Xanos
20-01-2011 14:23:09
Alrighty then... here's my submission for the Sovereign Rescue event.
The stuff involving Venator I expect probably won't gel with Venator's own plans so may need to simply have been some random individual, and I'm unsure what Trev either submitted and/or specifically wants to have had happen, so those are some starting questions for the continuity of my take on events on Yridia IX...
Anywho, sorting out these sort of issues is what this thread is meant for, so that we don't step on each others toes in a few weeks. B)
Dramatis Personae
Christine Zara; captain, Sanguinus (female human)
Elric Kyes; Krath Knight, Tarentum (male human)
Eosara Goratis; mercenary leader, Obsidian Cohort (male human)
Mirado Pepoi L’eonheart; Obelisk Knight, Naga Sadow (male Miraluka)
Ronovi Tavisaen Tarentae; Obelisk Exarch, Tarentum (female Epicanthix)
Sith Bloodfyre-Tarentae; Sith Master, Tarentum (male Shaevalian)
Trevarus Caerick; Elder, Oracle of the Brotherhood (male human)
Tsainetomo Keibatsu Sadow; Obelisk Exarch, Naga Sadow (male Korun)
Xanos Zorrixor; Elder, Rogue (male Falleen)
---
Outside the Mystics Asylum
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
A chill wind shot through the rocky outcropping as the jet black corvette came into landing on the barren grey soil beside the Asylum of the Mystics of the Black Arts. Pebbles rolled past the small team assembled outside the foreboding main entrance, skittering down the path as the ship fired its heavy repulsors; the whine resembled laughter, though some would have claimed the noise to be the half-mad cries of the former inmates who still haunted this place.
Either way, ghosts or no ghosts, it was of no matter right now.
The plague was the concern.
The CR 90 Corellian Corvette Sanguinus settled on its mechanic landing legs and with last one final jolt came to a dead stop. Master Bloodfyre and Sergeant Vosh stood and waited for the man the Watcher had personally requested the aid of. Across the other side of the galaxy, at the far end of the Hydian Way, Bloodfyre had had the pleasure of ‘interrupting’ his old friend during a private dinner with the Dark Lord himself. The Shaevalian had known Trev long enough to know that the man appreciated good food; for the Oracle, to disturb him during his enjoyment of one of the few finer things in life showed the Sith Master was one of the few who retained the other’s genuine respect, unlike the playact Trevarus put on for most.
The corvette’s landing ramp hissed as its hydraulics turned before the ramp lowered gently to the ground. Two night black-armoured troopers descended first, gesturing to each other with a series of rapid arm movements. Then they stopped and looked back up the ramp, pausing for another second before nodding with the military precision Bloodfyre had become accustomed to from the Oracle’s private militia. For all Trev’s grandiose displays of arcane ritual and sorcery, it was a pleasant departure from most Elders of the Brotherhood to see a man who – like the Shaevalian – also understood that not everything was best served through the Force. Sometimes, it was best to do things with your bare knuckles.
A pity, Bloodfyre reflected, that the Oracle’s late apprentice had been so different.
It had been a welcome day five years ago when he’d heard of the Falleen’s death.
Trev can do so much better.
‘Clear,’ said Eosara’s voice over the internal comm.
From the top of the ramp, Trevarus nodded down at his majordomo. The Oracle was clearly taking no chances. It was somewhat unbecoming, in fact. Xanos knew that his Master was unafraid personally about the rakghoul infestation, having no doubt developed many an immunity from his years of profane alchemy and experiments. That left only one explanation.
‘You should not worry about my wellbeing, my Master,’ the Falleen said, his new voice still sounding strange to his own ears. He had only been in his new body for a few days; it would still take some time to readjust. ‘The rakghouls are no threat.’
Trevarus did not look around when he answered. ‘Your gait is still off,’ his Master said, no longer with the light-heartedness with which he had observed his apprentice’s limp back at the Grand Master’s dinner. ‘I cannot afford to find you yet another new body.’
Xanos blinked.
His Master’s concern was touching, not that Xanos fully agreed with the implication that his limited control over his muscle network posed any real risk to infection. He may have spent the past five years wandering the lonely roads of the netherworld, but that did not mean he had forgotten what it meant to be mortal. Nevertheless, his Master’s insights were rarely wrong, and in this case the Falleen silently agreed to defer to Trevarus’s greater wisdom.
Trevarus swung his head back. I see five years in hell has finally taught you when to acquiesce. The corners of his lips curled into a tight grin. It went without saying that when it came to his Master, ‘when’ was code for ‘always’. Trevarus laughed then turned back again and descended the ramp.
Before following, Xanos shut his eyes and reached out, the tattoo of a third eye on his forehead fluttering open as he searched the greeting party assembled in front of the ship. The Tapestry here was a knot of tangled threads, one snapped or fraying cord tied one around the other, in an assorted jumble of snarls and snags. In short, it was a mess. No wonder the voices of the long departed still whispered on the wind, their screams forever to haunt this place.
Though the dead were of no interest to Xanos at the present moment – he had spent more than enough time among the dead in recent days. No, the presence that interested him was that of the tall, powerfully built man at the forefront of the welcoming party—
The Mark sealed again and Xanos reopened his eyes.
Had the Falleen even the ashes of his dead heart left, he might have grinned.
The smell of death carried on the air when Trevarus set the first foot on the ashen soil of Yridia IX. A smile crossed the enigmatic man’s thin lips. It had far too long so long since he had last had the pleasure of visiting his friends within the Tarenti, and there was always something divine about the radiance that the worlds of Yridia evoked.
It was the silence of the Void.
‘Trev!’ Bloodfyre called, shattering the silence as the two men crossed the short distance underneath the nose of the corvette. The Shaevalian turned his gaze to the man to the Oracle’s right. ‘Eosara.’ Bloodfyre nodded at the giant of a human who stood a full head taller than most, his broad shoulders nearly rivalling the Sith Master himself.
‘Sith,’ replied Trevarus, shaking the others hand. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘Too long,’ the Shaevalian added. ‘You’ve been off on one of your jollies since before the Killik crisis over on Salas.’ He paused, though the Oracle had already guessed what was coming next by the other man’s grin. ‘Max and I tried to track you but...’
Trevarus grinned back. ‘But not even the Watchers can see into the halls of Kalekka?’
‘Something like that.’ The pair both laughed for a moment before silence fell across the plains outside the Asylum. Bloodfyre’s expression turned serious. ‘It’s good to have you back. This plague, it’s become worse than any of the mystics feared.’
The violet eye on Trevarus’s forehead opened as the other explained the situation. The rakghouls were old magic, from the first Sith Empire; not even Palpatine had dabbled in such alchemy, even though the Emperor had been more than proficient in Sith Alchemy.
‘Karness Muur may be gone, but his secrets live on with us,’ continued Bloodfyre, ‘this outbreak... there is no cure, no solution other than death.’ The Shaevalian said the words matter-of-factly, like a doctor might when considering how best to address a viral infection. It was to be expected: Tarentum were the masters of death; Trevarus would expect nothing less from his old friend. Finally, Bloodfyre reached the end of his summary of events on Yridia in the past several weeks, ‘The reports from Orian and Kr’Tal sealed it. Much as I hate to admit it, we can’t handle this alone. It’s good your here, Trev. I don’t trust Sadow or Taldryan.’
Trevarus raised an inquiring eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Bloodfyre knew the Oracle’s true loyalties lied beyond the Sons of Sadow, beyond even the Dark Council itself. ‘That reminds me,’ said Trevarus, ‘I have an old apprentice from Naga Sadow who is here to help. You remember him, I’m sure?’
The Oracle did not need to request Xanos to come join them; since the events back on Runculo, the pair’s minds were now intimately fused as one. Behind Trevarus, his apprentice appeared on the ramp, the former Son of Sadow’s black and white robe blowing in the harsh winds whose temperature matched the Falleen’s blood. Trevarus glanced back at Bloodfyre whose eyes did a barely perceptible double take though it was enough for the Oracle to catch.
The Shaevalian frowned. ‘Xanos,’ he said slowly, ‘back from the dead I see.’ The Falleen joined them underneath the bridge but did not reply. Sith looked back at Trevarus. ‘Your time with the Tarentae was not wasted then. You have mastered the art of death magic.’ Bloodfyre tilted his head and smirked. ‘You could be killed for that, you know?’
Trevarus chuckled. ‘But were it that easy to kill those who are already dead.’ The Oracle glanced back at Xanos. ‘Isn’t that right, my apprentice?’
‘There is no death, only will, my Master.’
The Oracle turned back to Bloodfyre, who as predicted was not surprised by to learn of the resurrection of his apprentice. The Shaevalian raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s finally learnt some respect,’ Bloodfyre quipped, clearly amused. ‘It only took, what is it? Nineteen years?’ He glanced back behind Trevarus; however, the Oracle’s apprentice again remained silent. ‘Quiet, isn’t he?’
‘His pneuma is still realigning with the current day,’ explained Trevarus. Bloodfyre nodded, one of the few with whom the Oracle could talk metaphysics without the other staring blankly whilst simply nodding their heads like another uneducated simpleton.
‘Well, it’s good to have another pair of hands,’ Bloodfyre said, ‘the situation in Eden is not looking good. The Reckoners are managing what they can out of Mirage, but District V has been completely overrun, and it’s threatening to spread into District IV.’
Trevarus’s eyes drifted to the side, no longer looking at the Tarentae but rather at some indistinct location past the walls of the Asylum. ‘The situation is not good, no.’ The Oracle blinked and turned back to the Sith Master. ‘I see some teams from Tarentum and Naga Sadow have already deployed over there.’
Bloodfyre gestured up at the Sanguinus. ‘Shall we?’
Trevarus nodded and then the group began climbing back up the ramp into the ship.
‘There are teams, yes,’ the Shaevalian said, ‘but something just isn’t right, Trev. It was fine until Tsainetomo and Shaz’air showed up making accusations. This isn’t an isolated incident. Something is driving these rakghouls.’
The Oracle shut his eyes for a moment. ‘And you hoped I could help you track down the source.’
‘That,’ said Bloodfyre, ‘and like I said: I don’t trust Sadow or Taldryan. No offence.’
‘None taken,’ Trevarus smiled. ‘Nobody trusts me either.’
The Shaevalian could not help but laugh at that. ‘Even back in the Grand Master’s bosom, you still find the time to sow the seeds of discord, don’t you, Master Caerick?’
‘Of course, Master Bloodfyre. I wouldn’t be Oracle if I didn’t.’
District IV Medical Hospital, Eden City
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
Blood splattered up the wall as Elric separated the ward matron’s head from her shoulders. The rakghouls once surgically pristine white gown, already covered in other people’s dry blood, now turned a scarlet maroon as the decapitated corpse crashed to the floor, upturning a hospital table in the process as its blood spilled out into the central aisle.
Not that the Krath noticed any of this, he was too busy spinning to engage the next rakghoul that nearly sawed its teeth through the back of his neck. Fortunately, Mirado was already there, the Sadow’s lightsaber popping out of the centre of the rakghoul’s chest, and nearly stabbing Elric in the face in the process.
‘Hey!’ Elric said, neither sounding angry nor amused, merely frantic, ‘you may be blind, but watch it!’
Mirado Pepoi, or Venator as the Miraluka preferred to be known – these Sadows always seemed to have identity crises Elric had found, pulled a grin before hacking another of the horde of rakghouls apart. Elric joined him, doing the same.
It was a wonder they were both still alive. The team of soldiers from Yridian Surface Command who they had brought with them were already all dead. This hospital had been a haven from the infection, doing what its best to treat those who had been admitted with cuts and bites. Elric refrained from referring to them as the lucky few; if anything, the ‘survivors’ – if they could be called that – were the worst off. The entire nursing staff had now been turned. The smart ones had gone through the medical cabinets and injected themselves with a large overdose of morphine: it was the lesser of the two evils. The plague was bad enough for those who could feel the Force, let alone what the ancient demons now infesting Yridia must have been doing to the minds of ordinary citizens. They were the thing of nightmares.
‘Did... you...’ Venator began, alternating between speaking and either dissecting another rakghoul into quarters or blocking an incoming maw of needle sharp teeth, ‘manage... to... reach... head... quarters?’
Elric chopped through another rakghoul before replying, this one having been a young female nurse judging by the identification badge still pinned to her – its? – breast pocket. She had only been an intern, probably still in medical school. Blonde, barely twenty. Who she had been made no difference. It was just a monster now. The Krath sent its head rolling down the ward, underneath the row of beds.
‘Yeah,’ he finally breathed, exhaustion starting to make his muscles burn. ‘Rono—my Quaestor told me she... was sending reinforcements from... the Asylum.’ The Sadow was unlikely to have any idea what or where the Asylum even was. Right that minute, it was of little consequence. ‘One of my people will get us out of this... don’t you worry.’
Elric felt a flash of ire jolt through the Force at the words ‘my people’.
‘I thought... we... were your... back up?’
‘There’s more... going on... than either of our... Quaestors have told us.’ Elric was too preoccupied to worry right now about what was going on. The Pepoi standing beside him was angry, he could see that. The Krath didn’t blame him. He would probably be angry in the Sadow’s place. But it didn’t matter. They were both fighting for their lives.
Come on, Ronovi... don’t let me down.
Castle Tarentum
Yridia II, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
The three-dimensional hologram flickered, the figure’s silhouette distorting and reforming, the transmission clearly not stable. Tsainetomo had no way of knowing if that was simply due to Castle Tarentum being at the bottom of the ocean and tidal disturbance, or if Kyes’s comm was damaged, but the Sadow Quaestor assumed the latter. The message was pre-recorded on a loop, and his contemporary from House Tarentum was evidently on edge as Elric spoke, not that Ronovi gave any outward signs of unease, but little escaped Sai’s carefully honed eyes.
‘...equestin...urgen...ackup...Eden...ity...medica...ospital...ghouls...overrun...’
The transmission was broken up but the meaning was clear: Elric – and that meant Venator as well – was pinned down under heavy siege by the infestation. This outbreak had suddenly gotten far too close to home. Parts of the rebuilt Markosian City back on Tarthos had already been sealed off to control the pockets back home, but now the leader of the Regulators was in danger.
Tsainetomo stepped out of the shadows at the side of the room as Ronovi listened to the transmission again, waiting as the engineers next to her tried to pin down its exact origin.
‘May I?’ Sai said, hovering a hand over the control panel nearest him.
Ronovi turned to him and frowned. ‘My people can handle this, Lord Sadow,’ the woman said curtly, evidently not wanting her House to appear unable to handle the situation.
And had it just been one of their own, Saiwould have let it drop at that. But Venator was in danger. This was no time for House rivalries. The Son of Sadow gave a tight smile. ‘Of course, Lady Tarentae,’ he bowed his head slightly, ‘but I really must insist. My training with the ’saber,’ he patted the weapon slung on his belt, ‘is really only a hobby. My chief expertise is in communications management.’ His smile pulled into a wide toothy grin and he casually put a hand on the shoulder of the engineer nearest him. ‘If I may?’
Sai quickly got to work, his hands flowing across the holo-terminal’s control panel. Ronovi didn’t say anything but he caught the reflection of her scowl in the screen to his right. He did not blame her; he would be the same in her position. In fact, he was the same in her position: how many times had he or whoever else had held ‘the Chair’ been forced to sit back and watch as the Marked or Caerick played with the rest of his Clan? He understood why the Tarentum Quaestor was on edge: her House was suffering the same betrayal his long had.
‘Done,’ Sai said.
Ronovi brushed the engineer aside and stepped forward. ‘I suppose I should thank you.’ The Tarentae looked at the map now displayed on the screen on the terminal’s main desk. ‘District IV Medical,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s not far from the Asylum. Here,’ the Epicanthix said, calmly motioning Sai to the side so that she could get to the holo-terminal, ‘allow me.’
Sai smiled and did as the lady asked, adhering to the staged theatrics of politics that he was all too familiar with. If he had learnt one thing in his time in the Castle, it was that the earls and dukes of Tarentum took court formality seriously. It only took Ronovi a moment to open a channel to a familiar face from the Combat Center.
‘We’ve got a problem,’ Ronovi said to the image of Sith Bloodfyre, not wasting any more time with pleasantries, ‘Elric’s pinned down in District Four Medical.’
The Shaevalian showed no outward concern, but Sai had studied their House’s rolls enough to know that both Sith and Elric were both Sinners. The Keibatsu nodded to himself, understanding why Ronovi had chosen to call Bloodfyre to handle the extraction.
Bloodfyre nodded. ‘The Sanguinus just got here,’ he said, ‘I’ll head there right away with Trev.’
Sai’s ears pricked at the mention of the traitor. ‘Did you just say Trev?’
Ronovi told Bloodfyre that they better hurry then she glanced sideways at Sai. ‘Yes he did. What of it?’ The Epicanthix stared at him, clearly at a loss to the Sadow’s concern.
‘He isn’t here with my task force,’ said Sai slowly, not wanting to betray his Clan’s politics to an outsider. A few days earlier, the Keibatsu had listened to his cousin’s report about his trip out into Wild Space; however, Macron was prone to exaggeration, and Venator had recovered Sai’s fellow Son of Sadow from Runculo unconscious.
And jabbering about the rebirth of the Betrayer.
Sai rarely dismissed anything out of hand but in this instance he had already been on route to Yridia and had not had the time nor the strength left this soon after both Kano and Ashura’s deaths to even begin to consider what Macron was claiming. The mad alchemist had knocked himself out with his own toxic gas. Hallucinations were to be expected.
To cheat death was one thing. To anchor a spirit to the world another.
But to return from the netherworld was altogether impossible.
‘Did you say he arrived recently?’ said Sai finally, not wanting to hear the answer.
‘Yes,’ Bloodfyre replied. ‘You can speak to him yourself.’
The hologram widened to include the three eyed sorcerer standing to the right of the former Combat Master. However that was not where Sai’s eyes had suddenly frozen. Behind the hologram of Caerick, the impossible stood motionless as a statue, like the blue and white image of a ghost from the long forgotten past, the youthful face who Sai had looked up to and respected for years during his trials and training, the face that had grown withered with hate and rebellion. The Betrayer. Darth Vexatus.
‘You,’ said Sai, fighting to maintain his composure, ‘cannot be.’
The Betrayer remained silent. Instead, Caerick said, ‘There will be time for answers later, young Sadow,’ the Oracle said, seemingly calm but Sai saw through the facade, even if the two Tarentae could not, ‘Master Zorrixor and I shall provide all the support we can to assist Master Bloodfyre in extracting Kyes and L’eonheart.’
Master... Zorrixor?
Before Sai could answer, Ronovi was there instead, ‘Thank you, Master Caerick. It’s good to know that Tarentum will always have a friend in you.’
Trevarus smiled and told the Tarentum Quaestor that she need not worry; the two stranded Knights were in good hands. ‘And if not... I’m sure Bloodfyre can always bring them back from the dead if need be,’ the Oracle said, smirking. He turned back to Sai again. ‘I’m sorry to hear about the fate of Ashura. Such a pity that affair with young Aleho.’
Sai could only maintain the illusion of calm for so long.
That was too long.
‘Aleho is innocent, Caerick,’ Sai snapped, not even doing the man the respect owed to him as a master, ‘I believe you will find the true culprit much closer to home.’ Nothing more needed to be said. The accusation was obvious, even for the two Tarentae, who had gone very quiet. Sai could feel the tension boiling in the Force, the silent attack that they all deal with their problems in their own time and focus on the situation at hand. But Sai knew better. The Tarentae could not know how close to home the true threat was. The source of all their ills.
‘A pity you feel that way, Master Sadow,’ Caerick replied finally, ‘unfortunately Lord Ashen shares my assessment about what happened. Aleho will pay for Ashura’s murder.’
‘You won’t get away with this.’
‘I have nothing to get away with.’ The sorcerer tilted his head for a moment and then turned back to Ronovi. ‘My apologies, Lady Tarentae. House politics. You know how it is.’ He smiled sadly at the female Epicanthix. ‘But worry not. We shall bring Elric home safe.’
The channel cut off and Sai was left standing there, staring at a blank screen.
‘What was that all about?’ Ronovi said dryly. ‘I do hope we’re not going to have a problem. Trevarus is a friend of Tarentum. Your problems back in Orian are your own.’
Sai said nothing. He couldn’t. Caerick’s net was spread too wide.
Everything was beginning to come undone again.
He only hoped it didn’t take Venator with it.
Outside the District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
Pillars of smoke rose up into the artificial atmosphere, blanketing Eden City beneath a haze of ash and papery wisps of debris from the burning buildings down below. Here and there, red and yellow tongues of fire lashed chaotically throughout the city, uncontrollable fires that had sprung up where the outbreak was at its worst. Blockades of personnel carriers had been erected around the roads in and out of each of the seven districts by the city’s assorted civil defence forces, which were fighting in vain to contain the plague to Districts IV and V.
It was a bold effort, but the death echoing through the streets beneath the Sanguinus sent a cold chill through the Force as the corvette shot towards it destination. On the bridge, Christine Zara, the ship’s captain, stared out the main viewport at the flashes of gunfire in the alleys down below. Disorder was rife. Looting, pillaging, theft and physical assault. It was the stuff of nightmares. But then, nightmares prowled the streets, first born of the madness of Karness Muur, and now handed to the death dealers of Tarentum to use as they so willed.
Christine brought the Sanguinus into a hard landing on the shuttle-pad just outside the hospital, hoping to crush a clutch of rakghouls that had amassed below, their greedy eyes angled straight up at the corvette as drool lustily pooled down their cheeks onto the concrete. They would thank her for crushing them beneath the landing gear. Trev would not be so kind.
‘You two ready?’ Bloodfyre called over the noise of the landing alarms.
In perfect unison, Xanos and his Master signalled their affirmative telepathically. The Shaevalian gave a noticeable shrug and snorted at what he probably regarded an unnecessary act; it was well known that the Sith Master questioned gratuitous use of the Force.
‘Deploying in three,’ the Tarentae said, counting down, ‘and now!’
Bloodfyre hit the boarding tunnel’s door control and the outer exit popped open.
The Tarentae was out in the same movement, Trevarus and Xanos close behind. The trio landed in an open courtyard covered with assorted clinical waste from upturned garbage bins and limbs that had been dragged across the landing pad, leaving paths of blood in their wake, here and there ending in either a severed arm or a head. Scratches lined the concrete and a few broken claws were lying on the ground just up ahead of the three men.
For any normal person, it would not have been a pretty sight. For three who had come face to face with death on countless occasions, it was perfectly normal.
To the left, a rakghoul that had been caught underneath one of the corvette’s landing feet scratched at the ground, trying to pull itself toward them however its rear end had been crushed underneath the Sanguinus’s weight. Bloodfyre shook his head and silenced the beast with the sole of his boot which he brought down on top of its skull, cracking it open.
The noise caught the attention of another rakghoul which was presently chewing on the arm of a dead patient still in a hospital gown fifty meters in front of the corvette. The creature raised its head, the arm still clamped between its vice-like jaws. Seemingly content with its meal, it continued chewing, albeit slowly, keeping its eyes fixed on what it probably hoped to be its dessert. That, of course, was not to be.
With a clap of displaced air, two black lightsabers appeared in Trevarus’s hands. With a twirl of his cloak, the Oracle vanished, reappearing almost instantly directly behind the mindless animal up ahead. One quick scissor movement of the two blades severed the ghoul’s head from its neck, the half eaten arm bouncing off with it. The lightsabers shut down with a snap-hiss and Trevarus reappeared alongside his apprentice again. Bloodfyre had already moved off toward the entrance door, hacking his way through another rakghoul with his own weapon. The Oracle’s composure did not last long, for he immediately brought his weapons to bear again, moving straight toward the Falleen. ‘Xanos, behind you!’
Xanos did not move as Trevarus darted toward the rakghoul behind him. The Falleen lacked a weapon of his own – his lightsaber having been destroyed years ago and he had not had the opportunity to construct a replacement– so his Master’s concern was understandable. It was, however, misplaced. With a flick of his hand, the monster behind Xanos froze in mid air before Trevarus reached it, causing the Oracle’s blades to miss the ghoul by a millimetre.
‘Your fear for my safety is touching, my Master,’ the Falleen said, turning to Trevarus and the suspended creature casually as if the threat of death did not bother him. With another motion of his wrist, the creature’s neck snapped and Xanos let it fall to the floor, lifeless.
Trevarus raised an eyebrow but simply smirked.
With the immediate danger in the shuttleport dealt with, the pair moved to join the Shaevalian who was waiting at the main entrance to the accident and emergency ward. ‘You two sound like father and son,’ Bloodfyre said, with an amused roll of his eyes, despite the blood and horror awaiting them within the hospital. ‘Still, you haven’t lost your fighting spirits.’ The man shook his head. ‘Let’s go.’
The doors slid open and the three headed inside.
Intensive Care Ward, District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
The rakghoul’s jaws were inches from the tip of Mirado’s nose. It had caught him off guard and now he was on the floor lying on his back, close enough that he could smell the thing’s breath as the pair struggled against each other, their hands locked together as if they were in a life and death game of arm wrestling. Fortunately, he had the Force on his side. But the rak had its weight. And Mirado’s arms were already exhausted from the fighting. Even the dark side would only sustain him so long...
A cybernetic hand closed around the rakghoul’s throat and the beast was pulled to its feet and impaled on the waiting tip of a red lightsaber blade. Mirado breathed a welcome sigh of relief. Elric reached down and helped Mirado back up.
‘I guess that makes us even,’ the Miraluka said.
‘Master Bloodfyre’s on his way with help,’ the other man said, dodging the remark. Mirado did not resent him for the lack of courtesy; it was obvious from the scars and tattoos that covered Elric’s skin practically head to toe that the man had had a hard life. The Disciple of Sadow considered it a good enough sign that the human had not taken his obvious hatred for... something in his past – Mirado had sensed that much – out on him.
The Miraluka looked around the hospital ward. The last set of doors that the two had braced with whatever they could find, chairs, surgical equipment, heart monitors, you name it, were thankfully still holding. The growls of the rakghouls could be heard on the other side, however; it was only a matter of when, not if they would break through. It would not be long.
‘Better hope they get here soon,’ Mirado said.
Elric glanced at one of the walls. ‘They’re not far. We just need to hold a bit longer.’
And with that, the door in front of them burst open, rakghouls springing through the mountain of equipment stacked high to the ceiling. This was it. Their final stand.
It was kill or be killed.
Inside the District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
None of the three Elders needed to tell the others that intensive care was just up ahead. They could all feel the urgency of the two stranded warriors who were fighting for their survival on the other side of the next wall. The floor was strewn with the heads of countless rakghouls that Elric and Venator had slain to stay alive. Doctors, surgeons, nurses, the plague had been indiscriminate in whose lives it had stolen, transforming them into brainless mutants.
Xanos paid no sympathy to them. He had embraced death as the Culmination of the Via Finitas and claimed his Way along the Via Septa. The living did not understand the truth until they had it taken away from them. Death was a lesson all must learn to accept. Looking around at the horror etched forever on the bodies of the victims who had fallen before being turned, it was clear to the Falleen that none of them understood the divine blessing they were being offered. They should have welcomed plague but instead they fled from it.
A rakghoul sprang at him from a side corridor but before it reached him a hospital bed whipped up from the floor and struck the creature head on. Its arms trashed around the bed, trying to shove it out of the way; however, Xanos held the iron frame in place, watching the creature with idle disinterest as it tried to gnaw through the metal. They may have been the harbingers of death and for that to be respected, but that did not change the fact the rakghouls were mindless drones, shackled into the service of some higher power. The source of this outbreak was clearly just another blind imperialist, seeking to forge his own empire from the ruins of the three Houses’ kingdoms. For that, he – or she – deserved nothing but contempt.
Xanos shoved his palm forward and the rakghoul was hurled back up the corridor from which it had come, the bed crushing it against the wall at the far end. The creature’s bones snapped with an audible crunch. Turning back to the main corridor, the Falleen saw that the others had reached the far end, a trail of fresh bodies in their wake. Xanos followed after, not bothering the step around the corpses but simply walking straight over them.
CR 90 Corvette Sanguinus
Outside the District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
‘Chris,’ the ship’s chief communications officer sitting on her left said, ‘we’ve got a call coming in from Yridia Two. It’s from the Prince... or should that be Princess?’
Zara rolled her eyes. ‘Just patch it through,’ she said impatiently. You could hear the new mob of rakghouls now outside the ship scratching at the underbelly of the corvette. It was making her uneasy, and that took a lot to do. She was okay with navigating around black holes or between binary suns, but down on the dirt was E’s area, not hers. And she’d seen the sort of things Trev cooked up. She knew what something like these rakghouls could do.
The image of Ronovi Tarentae materialised on the vidscreen in front of Chris.
‘Lady Tarentae, how can I help you?’
‘Our scanners indicate the situation across your region of Eden City has changed.’ Chris narrowed her eyebrows but did not interrupt. ‘Our other teams have reported some of the rakghouls breaking off and they are now heading towards your location.’
‘Our location?’ Christine said, uneasy. ‘The hospital?’
Ronovi nodded. ‘Whoever is behind this must know we’re onto them. They probably want to silence Bloodfyre before he can return to Yridia Two to oversee the trial.’ Chris nodded, having a good idea what the Quaestor’s next words were likely going to be. ‘They’ve made a massive error in judgement though if they think we’re bothered about the hospital. The Revenge has moved into station to pacify the area once Bloodfyre and Elric are out.’
Bloodfyre and Elric. Chris smirked at the way the Quaestor phrased it. ‘Understood, Lady Tarentae. I’ll let Trev and the others know they ought to get a move on. Sanguinus out.’
Outside the Intensive Care Ward
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
Trevarus plunged his lightsaber into the final rakghoul at the same time as he listened to Chris relay the news from Ronovi. So Bloodfyre had been right that this outbreak was not just an accident. Interesting, the Oracle thought as Chris finished up, explaining how the rakghouls across District IV were now converging on the hospital. Trevarus was suddenly feeling a longing for his own experiments, back when he had once dabbled with nurturing his own homunculi. He had grown out of that after the Exodus, the time and expense involved not worth the effort, but these rakghouls were making him nostalgic for the old days...
Bloodfyre was already heaping the praise from Elric and Venator when Trevarus entered the intensive care ward, kicking a severed rakghoul head out of his way in the process. ‘Do either of you require healing?’ the Oracle said, keeping up appearances. It made no difference to him if they died, but that was not the point. Their respective leaders would care, and Trevarus was in the business of earning some extra favours when he could.
That, and it would be most enjoyable when the Sons of Sadow met to work out why the prodigal Trevarus Irad Caerick had condoned to the death of one but not another. A grin crossed the Oracle’s face as the two knights said they were both fine, or something, Trevarus was not really listened to either of them. Instead, his mind was on his apprentice and the thread that had sprung from Venator to the Falleen, the realisation not quite having struck the young Miraluka yet, though the marble was certainly rolling around in the boy’s mind.
The Oracle’s grin widened and he gestured toward his apprentice. ‘Mirado Pepoi L’eonheart,’ Trevarus said, ‘allow me to introduce my apprentice, Lord Xanos Zorrixor.’
The shock of realisation clearly hit Venator like a sledgehammer for in the Tapestry, Trevarus saw the thread linking Venator to Xanos constrict around his apprentice, tightening as the Miraluka’s unease flowed into the Weavery. Had the Miraluka eyes, they would surely have gone wide. The Great Betrayer, reborn and in the flesh. Trevarus tilted his head to one side, having impressed even himself at how deep his deception now went. It was probably for the best, though, that the Pepoi did not realise that it was Vexatus who had killed his cousin.
‘You killed Ashura,’ Venator said, accusing, unafraid. ‘Macron told me the truth.’
Xanos stared at the Miraluka but did not answer immediately. ‘Your Master only told you what he does not understand,’ the Falleen said finally. Bloodfyre and Elric had stopped to look at the four Sadowans. ‘My apprentice mourns too much over Ashura Sadow’s death. We,’ Xanos nodded in his Master’s direction, ‘do not. And nor does the Grand Master.’
‘I don’t know who you are...’ Venator added, ‘but you are not a Son of Sadow.’
‘No. He was weak.’ Xanos turned away from the Miraluka. ‘A pleasure to have met you, Mirado. You should let go of your anger at Fremoc over Kano’s death.’
Careful, my apprentice, Trevarus cautioned, not here.
Venator did not reply. He was clearly too shocked by how anyone who had not been there at the time could have known about Kano’s death at Fremoc’s hand. Taking advantage of the Miraluka’s momentary confusion, Trevarus nodded at Bloodfyre for them to get back to the task at hand. The Shaevalian nodded back. ‘Warm as this family reunion is,’ Sith said, clearly uninterested in whatever affairs the Oracle and his apprentice had been up to back in Sadow territory, ‘we need to get going. The rakghouls are on their way here, and if we’re not gone before they get here. Well, you can do the math.’
After a moment, Mirado pulled his eyeless sockets away from Xanos and nodded. Elric simply looked irritated by whatever the Sadowans were bickering about amongst themselves. The Tarenti’s homeworlds were under siege and all Naga Sadow had done was bring more outsider backstabbings and betrayals into the Domain of Tarentum. Trevarus could have laughed were it not for the fact he still valued the counsel of the Sith King.
‘Bloodfyre’s right,’ the Oracle said. ‘The shuttle-port is overrun so Christine said she’ll meet us on the roof. Let’s get moving.’ Trevarus glanced at his apprentice and the pair left through the entrance they had come through, the Oracle kicking the very same rakghoul skull out of the way again. Yes, now he remembered why he had given up on the homunculi, and it wasn’t just because the ingredients necessary for the ritual were difficult to source. His ternikh had always been as messy as these rakghoul, and that was not befitting for the halls of Kalekka Tower. And Eosara always did hate having to clean up after his experiments.
CR 90 Corvette Sanguinus
Roof of the District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Eosara closed the hatch the moment the five Dark Jedi were onboard. The commander of the Obsidian Cohort had seen enough of rakghouls to last a lifetime and a pile of dead bodies that half-resembled rancors, half-resembled human beings or other aliens, was now strewn around the sides the rooftop where Eosara and his men had knocked off any that had managed to make their way up the hospital’s walls onto the roof. Thankfully, that had been the minority; the rest barked and howled like a pack of rapid wolves from the shuttleport and parking lots.
‘Chris,’ Eosara said into the wall-mounted comlink, ‘get us out of this hellhole.’
‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that, E.’
The Sanguinus shuddered for a moment before Eosara felt the familiar sensation as the onboard gravity took over to compensate for the zero-g effect as the corvette accelerated into the planet’s artificial atmosphere, which was held there by an immense force field. Once Eosara was confident no rakghoul were clinging to the outside and going to try to bust inside, he made his way to the bridge, where he found the new arrivals divided along clear lines. Up front with Chris, Trev, Bloodfyre and the man from Tarentum were all looking out at the Star Destroyer which hung in orbit of Eden City; however, the Miraluka from Naga Sadow was standing on his own off to the side. And lizardboy seemed to be in a world all of his own, but that was nothing new to Eosara. The majordomo moved past the crew to join Trev. Outside, the viewports filled with green light as the Revenge began pounding the hospital down below.
‘No new pets, boss?’
Trev’s tendency to pick up a new apprentice on every trip was a running joke between the two men. Eosara prided himself on being practically the only person unable to touch the Force who could speak openly with his employer. Trev finished what he was saying to the two Tarenti and turned round to look at Eosara. ‘Pets? No, sadly,’ the Oracle said with a mock pout. ‘I did consider picking up a rakghoul or two, though, but I thought better of it.’
---
My apologies for the length. Be sure to rec yourself for a Dark Cross if you got this far though.
The stuff involving Venator I expect probably won't gel with Venator's own plans so may need to simply have been some random individual, and I'm unsure what Trev either submitted and/or specifically wants to have had happen, so those are some starting questions for the continuity of my take on events on Yridia IX...
Anywho, sorting out these sort of issues is what this thread is meant for, so that we don't step on each others toes in a few weeks. B)
Dramatis Personae
Christine Zara; captain, Sanguinus (female human)
Elric Kyes; Krath Knight, Tarentum (male human)
Eosara Goratis; mercenary leader, Obsidian Cohort (male human)
Mirado Pepoi L’eonheart; Obelisk Knight, Naga Sadow (male Miraluka)
Ronovi Tavisaen Tarentae; Obelisk Exarch, Tarentum (female Epicanthix)
Sith Bloodfyre-Tarentae; Sith Master, Tarentum (male Shaevalian)
Trevarus Caerick; Elder, Oracle of the Brotherhood (male human)
Tsainetomo Keibatsu Sadow; Obelisk Exarch, Naga Sadow (male Korun)
Xanos Zorrixor; Elder, Rogue (male Falleen)
---
Outside the Mystics Asylum
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
A chill wind shot through the rocky outcropping as the jet black corvette came into landing on the barren grey soil beside the Asylum of the Mystics of the Black Arts. Pebbles rolled past the small team assembled outside the foreboding main entrance, skittering down the path as the ship fired its heavy repulsors; the whine resembled laughter, though some would have claimed the noise to be the half-mad cries of the former inmates who still haunted this place.
Either way, ghosts or no ghosts, it was of no matter right now.
The plague was the concern.
The CR 90 Corellian Corvette Sanguinus settled on its mechanic landing legs and with last one final jolt came to a dead stop. Master Bloodfyre and Sergeant Vosh stood and waited for the man the Watcher had personally requested the aid of. Across the other side of the galaxy, at the far end of the Hydian Way, Bloodfyre had had the pleasure of ‘interrupting’ his old friend during a private dinner with the Dark Lord himself. The Shaevalian had known Trev long enough to know that the man appreciated good food; for the Oracle, to disturb him during his enjoyment of one of the few finer things in life showed the Sith Master was one of the few who retained the other’s genuine respect, unlike the playact Trevarus put on for most.
The corvette’s landing ramp hissed as its hydraulics turned before the ramp lowered gently to the ground. Two night black-armoured troopers descended first, gesturing to each other with a series of rapid arm movements. Then they stopped and looked back up the ramp, pausing for another second before nodding with the military precision Bloodfyre had become accustomed to from the Oracle’s private militia. For all Trev’s grandiose displays of arcane ritual and sorcery, it was a pleasant departure from most Elders of the Brotherhood to see a man who – like the Shaevalian – also understood that not everything was best served through the Force. Sometimes, it was best to do things with your bare knuckles.
A pity, Bloodfyre reflected, that the Oracle’s late apprentice had been so different.
It had been a welcome day five years ago when he’d heard of the Falleen’s death.
Trev can do so much better.
‘Clear,’ said Eosara’s voice over the internal comm.
From the top of the ramp, Trevarus nodded down at his majordomo. The Oracle was clearly taking no chances. It was somewhat unbecoming, in fact. Xanos knew that his Master was unafraid personally about the rakghoul infestation, having no doubt developed many an immunity from his years of profane alchemy and experiments. That left only one explanation.
‘You should not worry about my wellbeing, my Master,’ the Falleen said, his new voice still sounding strange to his own ears. He had only been in his new body for a few days; it would still take some time to readjust. ‘The rakghouls are no threat.’
Trevarus did not look around when he answered. ‘Your gait is still off,’ his Master said, no longer with the light-heartedness with which he had observed his apprentice’s limp back at the Grand Master’s dinner. ‘I cannot afford to find you yet another new body.’
Xanos blinked.
His Master’s concern was touching, not that Xanos fully agreed with the implication that his limited control over his muscle network posed any real risk to infection. He may have spent the past five years wandering the lonely roads of the netherworld, but that did not mean he had forgotten what it meant to be mortal. Nevertheless, his Master’s insights were rarely wrong, and in this case the Falleen silently agreed to defer to Trevarus’s greater wisdom.
Trevarus swung his head back. I see five years in hell has finally taught you when to acquiesce. The corners of his lips curled into a tight grin. It went without saying that when it came to his Master, ‘when’ was code for ‘always’. Trevarus laughed then turned back again and descended the ramp.
Before following, Xanos shut his eyes and reached out, the tattoo of a third eye on his forehead fluttering open as he searched the greeting party assembled in front of the ship. The Tapestry here was a knot of tangled threads, one snapped or fraying cord tied one around the other, in an assorted jumble of snarls and snags. In short, it was a mess. No wonder the voices of the long departed still whispered on the wind, their screams forever to haunt this place.
Though the dead were of no interest to Xanos at the present moment – he had spent more than enough time among the dead in recent days. No, the presence that interested him was that of the tall, powerfully built man at the forefront of the welcoming party—
The Mark sealed again and Xanos reopened his eyes.
Had the Falleen even the ashes of his dead heart left, he might have grinned.
The smell of death carried on the air when Trevarus set the first foot on the ashen soil of Yridia IX. A smile crossed the enigmatic man’s thin lips. It had far too long so long since he had last had the pleasure of visiting his friends within the Tarenti, and there was always something divine about the radiance that the worlds of Yridia evoked.
It was the silence of the Void.
‘Trev!’ Bloodfyre called, shattering the silence as the two men crossed the short distance underneath the nose of the corvette. The Shaevalian turned his gaze to the man to the Oracle’s right. ‘Eosara.’ Bloodfyre nodded at the giant of a human who stood a full head taller than most, his broad shoulders nearly rivalling the Sith Master himself.
‘Sith,’ replied Trevarus, shaking the others hand. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘Too long,’ the Shaevalian added. ‘You’ve been off on one of your jollies since before the Killik crisis over on Salas.’ He paused, though the Oracle had already guessed what was coming next by the other man’s grin. ‘Max and I tried to track you but...’
Trevarus grinned back. ‘But not even the Watchers can see into the halls of Kalekka?’
‘Something like that.’ The pair both laughed for a moment before silence fell across the plains outside the Asylum. Bloodfyre’s expression turned serious. ‘It’s good to have you back. This plague, it’s become worse than any of the mystics feared.’
The violet eye on Trevarus’s forehead opened as the other explained the situation. The rakghouls were old magic, from the first Sith Empire; not even Palpatine had dabbled in such alchemy, even though the Emperor had been more than proficient in Sith Alchemy.
‘Karness Muur may be gone, but his secrets live on with us,’ continued Bloodfyre, ‘this outbreak... there is no cure, no solution other than death.’ The Shaevalian said the words matter-of-factly, like a doctor might when considering how best to address a viral infection. It was to be expected: Tarentum were the masters of death; Trevarus would expect nothing less from his old friend. Finally, Bloodfyre reached the end of his summary of events on Yridia in the past several weeks, ‘The reports from Orian and Kr’Tal sealed it. Much as I hate to admit it, we can’t handle this alone. It’s good your here, Trev. I don’t trust Sadow or Taldryan.’
Trevarus raised an inquiring eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Bloodfyre knew the Oracle’s true loyalties lied beyond the Sons of Sadow, beyond even the Dark Council itself. ‘That reminds me,’ said Trevarus, ‘I have an old apprentice from Naga Sadow who is here to help. You remember him, I’m sure?’
The Oracle did not need to request Xanos to come join them; since the events back on Runculo, the pair’s minds were now intimately fused as one. Behind Trevarus, his apprentice appeared on the ramp, the former Son of Sadow’s black and white robe blowing in the harsh winds whose temperature matched the Falleen’s blood. Trevarus glanced back at Bloodfyre whose eyes did a barely perceptible double take though it was enough for the Oracle to catch.
The Shaevalian frowned. ‘Xanos,’ he said slowly, ‘back from the dead I see.’ The Falleen joined them underneath the bridge but did not reply. Sith looked back at Trevarus. ‘Your time with the Tarentae was not wasted then. You have mastered the art of death magic.’ Bloodfyre tilted his head and smirked. ‘You could be killed for that, you know?’
Trevarus chuckled. ‘But were it that easy to kill those who are already dead.’ The Oracle glanced back at Xanos. ‘Isn’t that right, my apprentice?’
‘There is no death, only will, my Master.’
The Oracle turned back to Bloodfyre, who as predicted was not surprised by to learn of the resurrection of his apprentice. The Shaevalian raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s finally learnt some respect,’ Bloodfyre quipped, clearly amused. ‘It only took, what is it? Nineteen years?’ He glanced back behind Trevarus; however, the Oracle’s apprentice again remained silent. ‘Quiet, isn’t he?’
‘His pneuma is still realigning with the current day,’ explained Trevarus. Bloodfyre nodded, one of the few with whom the Oracle could talk metaphysics without the other staring blankly whilst simply nodding their heads like another uneducated simpleton.
‘Well, it’s good to have another pair of hands,’ Bloodfyre said, ‘the situation in Eden is not looking good. The Reckoners are managing what they can out of Mirage, but District V has been completely overrun, and it’s threatening to spread into District IV.’
Trevarus’s eyes drifted to the side, no longer looking at the Tarentae but rather at some indistinct location past the walls of the Asylum. ‘The situation is not good, no.’ The Oracle blinked and turned back to the Sith Master. ‘I see some teams from Tarentum and Naga Sadow have already deployed over there.’
Bloodfyre gestured up at the Sanguinus. ‘Shall we?’
Trevarus nodded and then the group began climbing back up the ramp into the ship.
‘There are teams, yes,’ the Shaevalian said, ‘but something just isn’t right, Trev. It was fine until Tsainetomo and Shaz’air showed up making accusations. This isn’t an isolated incident. Something is driving these rakghouls.’
The Oracle shut his eyes for a moment. ‘And you hoped I could help you track down the source.’
‘That,’ said Bloodfyre, ‘and like I said: I don’t trust Sadow or Taldryan. No offence.’
‘None taken,’ Trevarus smiled. ‘Nobody trusts me either.’
The Shaevalian could not help but laugh at that. ‘Even back in the Grand Master’s bosom, you still find the time to sow the seeds of discord, don’t you, Master Caerick?’
‘Of course, Master Bloodfyre. I wouldn’t be Oracle if I didn’t.’
District IV Medical Hospital, Eden City
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
Blood splattered up the wall as Elric separated the ward matron’s head from her shoulders. The rakghouls once surgically pristine white gown, already covered in other people’s dry blood, now turned a scarlet maroon as the decapitated corpse crashed to the floor, upturning a hospital table in the process as its blood spilled out into the central aisle.
Not that the Krath noticed any of this, he was too busy spinning to engage the next rakghoul that nearly sawed its teeth through the back of his neck. Fortunately, Mirado was already there, the Sadow’s lightsaber popping out of the centre of the rakghoul’s chest, and nearly stabbing Elric in the face in the process.
‘Hey!’ Elric said, neither sounding angry nor amused, merely frantic, ‘you may be blind, but watch it!’
Mirado Pepoi, or Venator as the Miraluka preferred to be known – these Sadows always seemed to have identity crises Elric had found, pulled a grin before hacking another of the horde of rakghouls apart. Elric joined him, doing the same.
It was a wonder they were both still alive. The team of soldiers from Yridian Surface Command who they had brought with them were already all dead. This hospital had been a haven from the infection, doing what its best to treat those who had been admitted with cuts and bites. Elric refrained from referring to them as the lucky few; if anything, the ‘survivors’ – if they could be called that – were the worst off. The entire nursing staff had now been turned. The smart ones had gone through the medical cabinets and injected themselves with a large overdose of morphine: it was the lesser of the two evils. The plague was bad enough for those who could feel the Force, let alone what the ancient demons now infesting Yridia must have been doing to the minds of ordinary citizens. They were the thing of nightmares.
‘Did... you...’ Venator began, alternating between speaking and either dissecting another rakghoul into quarters or blocking an incoming maw of needle sharp teeth, ‘manage... to... reach... head... quarters?’
Elric chopped through another rakghoul before replying, this one having been a young female nurse judging by the identification badge still pinned to her – its? – breast pocket. She had only been an intern, probably still in medical school. Blonde, barely twenty. Who she had been made no difference. It was just a monster now. The Krath sent its head rolling down the ward, underneath the row of beds.
‘Yeah,’ he finally breathed, exhaustion starting to make his muscles burn. ‘Rono—my Quaestor told me she... was sending reinforcements from... the Asylum.’ The Sadow was unlikely to have any idea what or where the Asylum even was. Right that minute, it was of little consequence. ‘One of my people will get us out of this... don’t you worry.’
Elric felt a flash of ire jolt through the Force at the words ‘my people’.
‘I thought... we... were your... back up?’
‘There’s more... going on... than either of our... Quaestors have told us.’ Elric was too preoccupied to worry right now about what was going on. The Pepoi standing beside him was angry, he could see that. The Krath didn’t blame him. He would probably be angry in the Sadow’s place. But it didn’t matter. They were both fighting for their lives.
Come on, Ronovi... don’t let me down.
Castle Tarentum
Yridia II, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
The three-dimensional hologram flickered, the figure’s silhouette distorting and reforming, the transmission clearly not stable. Tsainetomo had no way of knowing if that was simply due to Castle Tarentum being at the bottom of the ocean and tidal disturbance, or if Kyes’s comm was damaged, but the Sadow Quaestor assumed the latter. The message was pre-recorded on a loop, and his contemporary from House Tarentum was evidently on edge as Elric spoke, not that Ronovi gave any outward signs of unease, but little escaped Sai’s carefully honed eyes.
‘...equestin...urgen...ackup...Eden...ity...medica...ospital...ghouls...overrun...’
The transmission was broken up but the meaning was clear: Elric – and that meant Venator as well – was pinned down under heavy siege by the infestation. This outbreak had suddenly gotten far too close to home. Parts of the rebuilt Markosian City back on Tarthos had already been sealed off to control the pockets back home, but now the leader of the Regulators was in danger.
Tsainetomo stepped out of the shadows at the side of the room as Ronovi listened to the transmission again, waiting as the engineers next to her tried to pin down its exact origin.
‘May I?’ Sai said, hovering a hand over the control panel nearest him.
Ronovi turned to him and frowned. ‘My people can handle this, Lord Sadow,’ the woman said curtly, evidently not wanting her House to appear unable to handle the situation.
And had it just been one of their own, Saiwould have let it drop at that. But Venator was in danger. This was no time for House rivalries. The Son of Sadow gave a tight smile. ‘Of course, Lady Tarentae,’ he bowed his head slightly, ‘but I really must insist. My training with the ’saber,’ he patted the weapon slung on his belt, ‘is really only a hobby. My chief expertise is in communications management.’ His smile pulled into a wide toothy grin and he casually put a hand on the shoulder of the engineer nearest him. ‘If I may?’
Sai quickly got to work, his hands flowing across the holo-terminal’s control panel. Ronovi didn’t say anything but he caught the reflection of her scowl in the screen to his right. He did not blame her; he would be the same in her position. In fact, he was the same in her position: how many times had he or whoever else had held ‘the Chair’ been forced to sit back and watch as the Marked or Caerick played with the rest of his Clan? He understood why the Tarentum Quaestor was on edge: her House was suffering the same betrayal his long had.
‘Done,’ Sai said.
Ronovi brushed the engineer aside and stepped forward. ‘I suppose I should thank you.’ The Tarentae looked at the map now displayed on the screen on the terminal’s main desk. ‘District IV Medical,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s not far from the Asylum. Here,’ the Epicanthix said, calmly motioning Sai to the side so that she could get to the holo-terminal, ‘allow me.’
Sai smiled and did as the lady asked, adhering to the staged theatrics of politics that he was all too familiar with. If he had learnt one thing in his time in the Castle, it was that the earls and dukes of Tarentum took court formality seriously. It only took Ronovi a moment to open a channel to a familiar face from the Combat Center.
‘We’ve got a problem,’ Ronovi said to the image of Sith Bloodfyre, not wasting any more time with pleasantries, ‘Elric’s pinned down in District Four Medical.’
The Shaevalian showed no outward concern, but Sai had studied their House’s rolls enough to know that both Sith and Elric were both Sinners. The Keibatsu nodded to himself, understanding why Ronovi had chosen to call Bloodfyre to handle the extraction.
Bloodfyre nodded. ‘The Sanguinus just got here,’ he said, ‘I’ll head there right away with Trev.’
Sai’s ears pricked at the mention of the traitor. ‘Did you just say Trev?’
Ronovi told Bloodfyre that they better hurry then she glanced sideways at Sai. ‘Yes he did. What of it?’ The Epicanthix stared at him, clearly at a loss to the Sadow’s concern.
‘He isn’t here with my task force,’ said Sai slowly, not wanting to betray his Clan’s politics to an outsider. A few days earlier, the Keibatsu had listened to his cousin’s report about his trip out into Wild Space; however, Macron was prone to exaggeration, and Venator had recovered Sai’s fellow Son of Sadow from Runculo unconscious.
And jabbering about the rebirth of the Betrayer.
Sai rarely dismissed anything out of hand but in this instance he had already been on route to Yridia and had not had the time nor the strength left this soon after both Kano and Ashura’s deaths to even begin to consider what Macron was claiming. The mad alchemist had knocked himself out with his own toxic gas. Hallucinations were to be expected.
To cheat death was one thing. To anchor a spirit to the world another.
But to return from the netherworld was altogether impossible.
‘Did you say he arrived recently?’ said Sai finally, not wanting to hear the answer.
‘Yes,’ Bloodfyre replied. ‘You can speak to him yourself.’
The hologram widened to include the three eyed sorcerer standing to the right of the former Combat Master. However that was not where Sai’s eyes had suddenly frozen. Behind the hologram of Caerick, the impossible stood motionless as a statue, like the blue and white image of a ghost from the long forgotten past, the youthful face who Sai had looked up to and respected for years during his trials and training, the face that had grown withered with hate and rebellion. The Betrayer. Darth Vexatus.
‘You,’ said Sai, fighting to maintain his composure, ‘cannot be.’
The Betrayer remained silent. Instead, Caerick said, ‘There will be time for answers later, young Sadow,’ the Oracle said, seemingly calm but Sai saw through the facade, even if the two Tarentae could not, ‘Master Zorrixor and I shall provide all the support we can to assist Master Bloodfyre in extracting Kyes and L’eonheart.’
Master... Zorrixor?
Before Sai could answer, Ronovi was there instead, ‘Thank you, Master Caerick. It’s good to know that Tarentum will always have a friend in you.’
Trevarus smiled and told the Tarentum Quaestor that she need not worry; the two stranded Knights were in good hands. ‘And if not... I’m sure Bloodfyre can always bring them back from the dead if need be,’ the Oracle said, smirking. He turned back to Sai again. ‘I’m sorry to hear about the fate of Ashura. Such a pity that affair with young Aleho.’
Sai could only maintain the illusion of calm for so long.
That was too long.
‘Aleho is innocent, Caerick,’ Sai snapped, not even doing the man the respect owed to him as a master, ‘I believe you will find the true culprit much closer to home.’ Nothing more needed to be said. The accusation was obvious, even for the two Tarentae, who had gone very quiet. Sai could feel the tension boiling in the Force, the silent attack that they all deal with their problems in their own time and focus on the situation at hand. But Sai knew better. The Tarentae could not know how close to home the true threat was. The source of all their ills.
‘A pity you feel that way, Master Sadow,’ Caerick replied finally, ‘unfortunately Lord Ashen shares my assessment about what happened. Aleho will pay for Ashura’s murder.’
‘You won’t get away with this.’
‘I have nothing to get away with.’ The sorcerer tilted his head for a moment and then turned back to Ronovi. ‘My apologies, Lady Tarentae. House politics. You know how it is.’ He smiled sadly at the female Epicanthix. ‘But worry not. We shall bring Elric home safe.’
The channel cut off and Sai was left standing there, staring at a blank screen.
‘What was that all about?’ Ronovi said dryly. ‘I do hope we’re not going to have a problem. Trevarus is a friend of Tarentum. Your problems back in Orian are your own.’
Sai said nothing. He couldn’t. Caerick’s net was spread too wide.
Everything was beginning to come undone again.
He only hoped it didn’t take Venator with it.
Outside the District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
Pillars of smoke rose up into the artificial atmosphere, blanketing Eden City beneath a haze of ash and papery wisps of debris from the burning buildings down below. Here and there, red and yellow tongues of fire lashed chaotically throughout the city, uncontrollable fires that had sprung up where the outbreak was at its worst. Blockades of personnel carriers had been erected around the roads in and out of each of the seven districts by the city’s assorted civil defence forces, which were fighting in vain to contain the plague to Districts IV and V.
It was a bold effort, but the death echoing through the streets beneath the Sanguinus sent a cold chill through the Force as the corvette shot towards it destination. On the bridge, Christine Zara, the ship’s captain, stared out the main viewport at the flashes of gunfire in the alleys down below. Disorder was rife. Looting, pillaging, theft and physical assault. It was the stuff of nightmares. But then, nightmares prowled the streets, first born of the madness of Karness Muur, and now handed to the death dealers of Tarentum to use as they so willed.
Christine brought the Sanguinus into a hard landing on the shuttle-pad just outside the hospital, hoping to crush a clutch of rakghouls that had amassed below, their greedy eyes angled straight up at the corvette as drool lustily pooled down their cheeks onto the concrete. They would thank her for crushing them beneath the landing gear. Trev would not be so kind.
‘You two ready?’ Bloodfyre called over the noise of the landing alarms.
In perfect unison, Xanos and his Master signalled their affirmative telepathically. The Shaevalian gave a noticeable shrug and snorted at what he probably regarded an unnecessary act; it was well known that the Sith Master questioned gratuitous use of the Force.
‘Deploying in three,’ the Tarentae said, counting down, ‘and now!’
Bloodfyre hit the boarding tunnel’s door control and the outer exit popped open.
The Tarentae was out in the same movement, Trevarus and Xanos close behind. The trio landed in an open courtyard covered with assorted clinical waste from upturned garbage bins and limbs that had been dragged across the landing pad, leaving paths of blood in their wake, here and there ending in either a severed arm or a head. Scratches lined the concrete and a few broken claws were lying on the ground just up ahead of the three men.
For any normal person, it would not have been a pretty sight. For three who had come face to face with death on countless occasions, it was perfectly normal.
To the left, a rakghoul that had been caught underneath one of the corvette’s landing feet scratched at the ground, trying to pull itself toward them however its rear end had been crushed underneath the Sanguinus’s weight. Bloodfyre shook his head and silenced the beast with the sole of his boot which he brought down on top of its skull, cracking it open.
The noise caught the attention of another rakghoul which was presently chewing on the arm of a dead patient still in a hospital gown fifty meters in front of the corvette. The creature raised its head, the arm still clamped between its vice-like jaws. Seemingly content with its meal, it continued chewing, albeit slowly, keeping its eyes fixed on what it probably hoped to be its dessert. That, of course, was not to be.
With a clap of displaced air, two black lightsabers appeared in Trevarus’s hands. With a twirl of his cloak, the Oracle vanished, reappearing almost instantly directly behind the mindless animal up ahead. One quick scissor movement of the two blades severed the ghoul’s head from its neck, the half eaten arm bouncing off with it. The lightsabers shut down with a snap-hiss and Trevarus reappeared alongside his apprentice again. Bloodfyre had already moved off toward the entrance door, hacking his way through another rakghoul with his own weapon. The Oracle’s composure did not last long, for he immediately brought his weapons to bear again, moving straight toward the Falleen. ‘Xanos, behind you!’
Xanos did not move as Trevarus darted toward the rakghoul behind him. The Falleen lacked a weapon of his own – his lightsaber having been destroyed years ago and he had not had the opportunity to construct a replacement– so his Master’s concern was understandable. It was, however, misplaced. With a flick of his hand, the monster behind Xanos froze in mid air before Trevarus reached it, causing the Oracle’s blades to miss the ghoul by a millimetre.
‘Your fear for my safety is touching, my Master,’ the Falleen said, turning to Trevarus and the suspended creature casually as if the threat of death did not bother him. With another motion of his wrist, the creature’s neck snapped and Xanos let it fall to the floor, lifeless.
Trevarus raised an eyebrow but simply smirked.
With the immediate danger in the shuttleport dealt with, the pair moved to join the Shaevalian who was waiting at the main entrance to the accident and emergency ward. ‘You two sound like father and son,’ Bloodfyre said, with an amused roll of his eyes, despite the blood and horror awaiting them within the hospital. ‘Still, you haven’t lost your fighting spirits.’ The man shook his head. ‘Let’s go.’
The doors slid open and the three headed inside.
Intensive Care Ward, District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
The rakghoul’s jaws were inches from the tip of Mirado’s nose. It had caught him off guard and now he was on the floor lying on his back, close enough that he could smell the thing’s breath as the pair struggled against each other, their hands locked together as if they were in a life and death game of arm wrestling. Fortunately, he had the Force on his side. But the rak had its weight. And Mirado’s arms were already exhausted from the fighting. Even the dark side would only sustain him so long...
A cybernetic hand closed around the rakghoul’s throat and the beast was pulled to its feet and impaled on the waiting tip of a red lightsaber blade. Mirado breathed a welcome sigh of relief. Elric reached down and helped Mirado back up.
‘I guess that makes us even,’ the Miraluka said.
‘Master Bloodfyre’s on his way with help,’ the other man said, dodging the remark. Mirado did not resent him for the lack of courtesy; it was obvious from the scars and tattoos that covered Elric’s skin practically head to toe that the man had had a hard life. The Disciple of Sadow considered it a good enough sign that the human had not taken his obvious hatred for... something in his past – Mirado had sensed that much – out on him.
The Miraluka looked around the hospital ward. The last set of doors that the two had braced with whatever they could find, chairs, surgical equipment, heart monitors, you name it, were thankfully still holding. The growls of the rakghouls could be heard on the other side, however; it was only a matter of when, not if they would break through. It would not be long.
‘Better hope they get here soon,’ Mirado said.
Elric glanced at one of the walls. ‘They’re not far. We just need to hold a bit longer.’
And with that, the door in front of them burst open, rakghouls springing through the mountain of equipment stacked high to the ceiling. This was it. Their final stand.
It was kill or be killed.
Inside the District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
None of the three Elders needed to tell the others that intensive care was just up ahead. They could all feel the urgency of the two stranded warriors who were fighting for their survival on the other side of the next wall. The floor was strewn with the heads of countless rakghouls that Elric and Venator had slain to stay alive. Doctors, surgeons, nurses, the plague had been indiscriminate in whose lives it had stolen, transforming them into brainless mutants.
Xanos paid no sympathy to them. He had embraced death as the Culmination of the Via Finitas and claimed his Way along the Via Septa. The living did not understand the truth until they had it taken away from them. Death was a lesson all must learn to accept. Looking around at the horror etched forever on the bodies of the victims who had fallen before being turned, it was clear to the Falleen that none of them understood the divine blessing they were being offered. They should have welcomed plague but instead they fled from it.
A rakghoul sprang at him from a side corridor but before it reached him a hospital bed whipped up from the floor and struck the creature head on. Its arms trashed around the bed, trying to shove it out of the way; however, Xanos held the iron frame in place, watching the creature with idle disinterest as it tried to gnaw through the metal. They may have been the harbingers of death and for that to be respected, but that did not change the fact the rakghouls were mindless drones, shackled into the service of some higher power. The source of this outbreak was clearly just another blind imperialist, seeking to forge his own empire from the ruins of the three Houses’ kingdoms. For that, he – or she – deserved nothing but contempt.
Xanos shoved his palm forward and the rakghoul was hurled back up the corridor from which it had come, the bed crushing it against the wall at the far end. The creature’s bones snapped with an audible crunch. Turning back to the main corridor, the Falleen saw that the others had reached the far end, a trail of fresh bodies in their wake. Xanos followed after, not bothering the step around the corpses but simply walking straight over them.
CR 90 Corvette Sanguinus
Outside the District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
‘Chris,’ the ship’s chief communications officer sitting on her left said, ‘we’ve got a call coming in from Yridia Two. It’s from the Prince... or should that be Princess?’
Zara rolled her eyes. ‘Just patch it through,’ she said impatiently. You could hear the new mob of rakghouls now outside the ship scratching at the underbelly of the corvette. It was making her uneasy, and that took a lot to do. She was okay with navigating around black holes or between binary suns, but down on the dirt was E’s area, not hers. And she’d seen the sort of things Trev cooked up. She knew what something like these rakghouls could do.
The image of Ronovi Tarentae materialised on the vidscreen in front of Chris.
‘Lady Tarentae, how can I help you?’
‘Our scanners indicate the situation across your region of Eden City has changed.’ Chris narrowed her eyebrows but did not interrupt. ‘Our other teams have reported some of the rakghouls breaking off and they are now heading towards your location.’
‘Our location?’ Christine said, uneasy. ‘The hospital?’
Ronovi nodded. ‘Whoever is behind this must know we’re onto them. They probably want to silence Bloodfyre before he can return to Yridia Two to oversee the trial.’ Chris nodded, having a good idea what the Quaestor’s next words were likely going to be. ‘They’ve made a massive error in judgement though if they think we’re bothered about the hospital. The Revenge has moved into station to pacify the area once Bloodfyre and Elric are out.’
Bloodfyre and Elric. Chris smirked at the way the Quaestor phrased it. ‘Understood, Lady Tarentae. I’ll let Trev and the others know they ought to get a move on. Sanguinus out.’
Outside the Intensive Care Ward
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Domain of Tarentum
Trevarus plunged his lightsaber into the final rakghoul at the same time as he listened to Chris relay the news from Ronovi. So Bloodfyre had been right that this outbreak was not just an accident. Interesting, the Oracle thought as Chris finished up, explaining how the rakghouls across District IV were now converging on the hospital. Trevarus was suddenly feeling a longing for his own experiments, back when he had once dabbled with nurturing his own homunculi. He had grown out of that after the Exodus, the time and expense involved not worth the effort, but these rakghouls were making him nostalgic for the old days...
Bloodfyre was already heaping the praise from Elric and Venator when Trevarus entered the intensive care ward, kicking a severed rakghoul head out of his way in the process. ‘Do either of you require healing?’ the Oracle said, keeping up appearances. It made no difference to him if they died, but that was not the point. Their respective leaders would care, and Trevarus was in the business of earning some extra favours when he could.
That, and it would be most enjoyable when the Sons of Sadow met to work out why the prodigal Trevarus Irad Caerick had condoned to the death of one but not another. A grin crossed the Oracle’s face as the two knights said they were both fine, or something, Trevarus was not really listened to either of them. Instead, his mind was on his apprentice and the thread that had sprung from Venator to the Falleen, the realisation not quite having struck the young Miraluka yet, though the marble was certainly rolling around in the boy’s mind.
The Oracle’s grin widened and he gestured toward his apprentice. ‘Mirado Pepoi L’eonheart,’ Trevarus said, ‘allow me to introduce my apprentice, Lord Xanos Zorrixor.’
The shock of realisation clearly hit Venator like a sledgehammer for in the Tapestry, Trevarus saw the thread linking Venator to Xanos constrict around his apprentice, tightening as the Miraluka’s unease flowed into the Weavery. Had the Miraluka eyes, they would surely have gone wide. The Great Betrayer, reborn and in the flesh. Trevarus tilted his head to one side, having impressed even himself at how deep his deception now went. It was probably for the best, though, that the Pepoi did not realise that it was Vexatus who had killed his cousin.
‘You killed Ashura,’ Venator said, accusing, unafraid. ‘Macron told me the truth.’
Xanos stared at the Miraluka but did not answer immediately. ‘Your Master only told you what he does not understand,’ the Falleen said finally. Bloodfyre and Elric had stopped to look at the four Sadowans. ‘My apprentice mourns too much over Ashura Sadow’s death. We,’ Xanos nodded in his Master’s direction, ‘do not. And nor does the Grand Master.’
‘I don’t know who you are...’ Venator added, ‘but you are not a Son of Sadow.’
‘No. He was weak.’ Xanos turned away from the Miraluka. ‘A pleasure to have met you, Mirado. You should let go of your anger at Fremoc over Kano’s death.’
Careful, my apprentice, Trevarus cautioned, not here.
Venator did not reply. He was clearly too shocked by how anyone who had not been there at the time could have known about Kano’s death at Fremoc’s hand. Taking advantage of the Miraluka’s momentary confusion, Trevarus nodded at Bloodfyre for them to get back to the task at hand. The Shaevalian nodded back. ‘Warm as this family reunion is,’ Sith said, clearly uninterested in whatever affairs the Oracle and his apprentice had been up to back in Sadow territory, ‘we need to get going. The rakghouls are on their way here, and if we’re not gone before they get here. Well, you can do the math.’
After a moment, Mirado pulled his eyeless sockets away from Xanos and nodded. Elric simply looked irritated by whatever the Sadowans were bickering about amongst themselves. The Tarenti’s homeworlds were under siege and all Naga Sadow had done was bring more outsider backstabbings and betrayals into the Domain of Tarentum. Trevarus could have laughed were it not for the fact he still valued the counsel of the Sith King.
‘Bloodfyre’s right,’ the Oracle said. ‘The shuttle-port is overrun so Christine said she’ll meet us on the roof. Let’s get moving.’ Trevarus glanced at his apprentice and the pair left through the entrance they had come through, the Oracle kicking the very same rakghoul skull out of the way again. Yes, now he remembered why he had given up on the homunculi, and it wasn’t just because the ingredients necessary for the ritual were difficult to source. His ternikh had always been as messy as these rakghoul, and that was not befitting for the halls of Kalekka Tower. And Eosara always did hate having to clean up after his experiments.
CR 90 Corvette Sanguinus
Roof of the District Hospital
Yridia IX, Yridia System
Eosara closed the hatch the moment the five Dark Jedi were onboard. The commander of the Obsidian Cohort had seen enough of rakghouls to last a lifetime and a pile of dead bodies that half-resembled rancors, half-resembled human beings or other aliens, was now strewn around the sides the rooftop where Eosara and his men had knocked off any that had managed to make their way up the hospital’s walls onto the roof. Thankfully, that had been the minority; the rest barked and howled like a pack of rapid wolves from the shuttleport and parking lots.
‘Chris,’ Eosara said into the wall-mounted comlink, ‘get us out of this hellhole.’
‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that, E.’
The Sanguinus shuddered for a moment before Eosara felt the familiar sensation as the onboard gravity took over to compensate for the zero-g effect as the corvette accelerated into the planet’s artificial atmosphere, which was held there by an immense force field. Once Eosara was confident no rakghoul were clinging to the outside and going to try to bust inside, he made his way to the bridge, where he found the new arrivals divided along clear lines. Up front with Chris, Trev, Bloodfyre and the man from Tarentum were all looking out at the Star Destroyer which hung in orbit of Eden City; however, the Miraluka from Naga Sadow was standing on his own off to the side. And lizardboy seemed to be in a world all of his own, but that was nothing new to Eosara. The majordomo moved past the crew to join Trev. Outside, the viewports filled with green light as the Revenge began pounding the hospital down below.
‘No new pets, boss?’
Trev’s tendency to pick up a new apprentice on every trip was a running joke between the two men. Eosara prided himself on being practically the only person unable to touch the Force who could speak openly with his employer. Trev finished what he was saying to the two Tarenti and turned round to look at Eosara. ‘Pets? No, sadly,’ the Oracle said with a mock pout. ‘I did consider picking up a rakghoul or two, though, but I thought better of it.’
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My apologies for the length. Be sure to rec yourself for a Dark Cross if you got this far though.
