Force Fall Episode II: Sacrilege/narrative

Part 1
Wave after wave of agile Blood Conglomerate spacecraft, Hex Fighters, raced towards Graves and his ST-1 Star Guard. Four ST-1 Star Guard's emerged from Duty's hangar to provide support, but it wasn't much use, Graves and his comrades were vastly outnumbered. “On your six, Graves,” a voice crackled through the comms. Graves maneuvered his Star Guard upward in an effort to keep the Hex Fighter from turning him to dust. One of the other Star Guards followed, trying to shoot the Fighter on Grave's six. The pilot missed with every shot, but the Hex was busy dodging and therefore not able to fire upon Graves. Graves took the opportunity to veer off towards Duty in the hopes that its lasers would shoot down his pursuer. Duty was in view, but only for a few seconds. A ball of fire replaced Duty, multiple Hexes flew right through the flames toward Graves, firing. ''I've failed. If only I was more skilled, I was so sure...'' The first volley of shots took out the Star Guard that was providing Graves back-up, the second and third hit Graves' Star Guard, a ball of fire and debris replaced what had once been a proud pilot and his ship.

Gordo Sansax and Samuel Zechu stood outside the flight simulation room, both of them stared in at Graves through the view-port. “The guy's been here for three months and he already has the second highest score in the simulator, I can't believe it.” “I'm not too surprised, Gordo. He always comes here after his tasks are finished and practices for hours, he's dedicated.” “Almost too dedicated.” “How you mean?” “What's his angle, Samuel? The guy has amnesia, he doesn't remember squat and he's busting his hump in an effort to accomplish what? There is something off about him, I think he's a bloody spy.” “It is odd, but at the same time its not. He has no accomplishments that he knows of and he lacks any knowledge about his life, I think that Graves has no sense of self worth. He wants to be able to be proud of himself, he wants to be able to value himself. He came with us, because he wants to build a life.” “That could be true, but even so... I am not taking my eyes off him, there is something wrong about him, I can feel it in my gut.”

Light and only light was visible, a bright light. A couple of grunts escaped Hemlin Bright's throat as he righted himself. Bright heard a gasp as his eyes attempted to adjust, the gasp was followed by its owners voice, a female one. “Hemlin! Thank the Force! You've been comatose for the last three months, I was so worried that you were never going to wake up.” Hemlin let out a sigh of relief, “Sila Holomander”. He felt arms wrap around him and a chin rest on his shoulder, “You remember, I was so worried that you were going to die, like Jax”. ''Die. Die like Jax.'' Hemlin's eyes finally adjusted allowing him to take in the sight of Sila's brown hair. “Of course, I remember.” Sila ended the hug and pulled away from Hemlin, the two observed each others gaze. “Are you able to remember everything?” “Everything. Where is Cheots?”

Hemlin began to rise, as he did so, Sila attempted to push him back down onto the bed, but his strength had fully recovered. He exerted enough force to overcome her's and ended up standing. “Rest, please. At the very least sit back down, you just woke up!” “I cannot. Where is Lucim?” “Please, sit down. I will bring him to you. You are in no condition to be walking, you still have to go through therapy.” Hemlin staggered on his first step, but adjusted his weight so that he wouldn't fall. He looked down at his feet to be sure that he was able to maintain his balance with each step, that's when he noticed that his right arm was completely mechanical. The duel replayed through Hemlin's mind and he felt the right side of his face, his right eye was cybernetic too. Hemlin grabbed Sila by the shoulders and pulled her close to him.

Sila's heart began to beat faster. After all this time he had finally noticed her, happiness coursed through her. He quickly reached underneath Sila's cloak and retrieved her lightsaber. With a push, Bright created distance between them, he pointed Sila's lightsaber at her and activated it. Blue light illuminated the Medical Bay, Sila's feelings of happiness were replaced by confusion. Bright opened his mouth to speak, the words and their tone were noticeably dark “I'll only ask you once more. Where is Cheots?” Sila's confusion was replaced by feelings of dread.

A cross shaped space station, Aila, came into view. A half dozen Instigator-class Star Specter's stood by on guard should anyone unruly attempt to approach the Blood Conglomerate's most infamous prison space station. Krant Eisman lowered his gaze from the viewport back down to his datapad, double-checking the pass-phrase, one wrong word and he and his ship would be reduced to space dust.

The Captain steeled himself and thumbed the communications switch. “This is Captain Eisman of the Instigator-class Star Specter, Wraith. Wraith is currently acting in a Prisoner Transport role under Master Blood's orders. I am requesting permission to dock and unload the prisoners, so that Wraith's role as a Prisoner Transport may come to an end.” A moment of silence passed before a response came. “Aila control to Wraith, it is crucial that your response is correct. What is the pass-phrase? You've sixty seconds to respond or a worst case scenario shall be assumed.”

Laun Blood and Saun Blood, son and daughter of Darro Blood, ascended the bridge and stood next to Krant Eisman much to Eisman's dismay. The Captain gulped and read off the pass-phrase “Today is not the end, rather it is a new beginning.” Unwelcome silence followed. Wraith was close enough to Aila that Eisman could see that the space station had turrets, the turrets slowly rotated in Wraith's direction.

“Aila control to Wraith, it is with regret that I must inform you that the pass-phrase is a day out-of-date. Prepare for termination.” Shit. “All hands, man your battlestations. We aren't going down without a-” Laun Blood verbally cut off Eisman, “That isn't necessary, Captain.” Laun stood gazing out the viewport at Aila, Eisman came to the realization that the communication's channel was still open when he heard screaming and crying from the other end. “There's so much blood! Make it stop!” cried an unrecognizable voice on the other end. Laun Blood leaned in close to the communication's system and spoke, “This is Laun Blood and that is our pass-phrase.” The crying and screaming continued on the other end, the unrecognizable voice was barely able to force out a response, “P-Pass-phrase accepted.”

Part 2
Thirty-seven prisoners of war emerged from Wraith's airlock, rotary turrets attached to the walls of Aila's halls followed their every move, but the turrets were not the biggest threat for Saun and Laun Blood followed. The thirty-nine were greeted by Blood Guards upon entering one of Aila's many atriums, the thirty-seven prisoners were led off to individual cells with both guards and turrets following them. The few guards that remained in the atrium bowed before Saun and Laun Blood, some out of duty and some out of fear. Saun looked up and around taking note of Aila's inner-workings, she soon noticed the control center seated at the top of the atrium, its glass was stained with blood. Nice. Saun looked to her brother and smiled.

An outflux of Void Hounds emanated from the Devotees of Ashla's hangar on Pelgrin, the hangar lie empty with the exception of Cheots Lucim and Florence Jader. Jader cursed and removed his helmet, “It's no good, I've got a fuel line breach in one of the blasted engines.” Cheots scratched his black beard and put his hands in the pockets of his white robes. “Take mine.” This caught Jader by surprise. “A-are you sure?” “Yeah, go ahead. I hate flying anyway, it makes my stomach twist up. Just by sure to bring it back in one piece, I need to get off this rock every once in a while.” Jader snorted at Cheots' joke as he descended his Void Hound. “Please, feel free to take my place. I'm sure that Kraga would be enriched by your presence.” “Ha ha. Get out of here and give that factory hell.” Jader gave a slight wave as the cockpit slid shut, Lucim returned it as he watched Jader take off.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught Lucim's attention, he turned around and saw a fast approaching figure, it was Hemlin Bright. Cheots began to approach Hemlin, but he stopped himself when he saw an unlit lightsaber hilt in his hand. ''That can't be right. I took it from him.'' He reached underneath his robe and felt along his belt, sure enough Hemlin Bright's lightsaber was clipped on it right next to his. “Your recovery is nothing short of remarkable, I am glad, but you need to continue to rest.” Bright picked up the pace. “Don't you dare lecture me about rest, that's exactly what you were doing, while Jax and I were dying! You coward!” The words stunned Lucim, for they were true, in a way. ''I understand now, despite my best efforts I couldn't prevent this. It was inevitable.''

Bright lit the stolen lightsaber, its blue light streaked into the air. Lucim reluctantly replied in kind, a single tear escaped him as his Cyan colored blade emerged from its hilt. Teacher and Student charged at each other, coming to meet blades. Time and again the two combatants would strike at each other, attempting nothing less than fatal blows. At times the blades would lock, blue and cyan would intertwine, the two would press forward attempting to drive the other one into the ground and to cause them to lose their grip. As the two skirted back and forth Bright saw an opening, or so he thought. Cheots batted away the blow which caused Bright to stagger backwards, taking advantage Cheots projected an invisible fist with the Force, it connected with Hemlin Bright and sent him flying into and across the hangar.

Bright smacked into a Void Hound, the one that Jader had left behind, smashing Sila's lightsaber hilt against it and causing it to short out, while also causing one of the Void Hound's engines to leak fuel all over him and the surrounding area. Hemlin Bright refused to acknowledge defeat and attempted to ignite Sila's shorted lightsaber. Sparks shot out of the hilt of Sila's lightsaber and set the gas he was covered in ablaze, the fire spread and reached the leaking engine causing the Void Hound to explode. Lucim began to shout at Bright, “I was afraid, but not of dying! I was afraid that I'd fall and lose myself to the dark side! I've suffered visions, visions of a masked madman! I thought it was me from a potential future! A potential future that would have occurred if I confronted Darro, but now I see that it's you! If I let you live, you'll damn near kill all of us! You've committed sacrilege!”

Hemlin Bright rolled along the ground attempting to put the fire out. His skin began to boil and sizzle, the pain was immense, it was much worse than that which he had felt when losing his arm and eye. His mouth gave way to a couple of screams, which became replaced by coughs due to smoke inhalation. The hangar's emergency sprinklers kicked on and doused the flames, while of some comfort, the discomfort still very much existed, for an extinguishing fire begets steam. Hemlin reached and pulled himself up with the aid of an unknown object by using his free left hand. Hemlin regained his focus and saw that a bright blue blade sped towards him, it was his blade, Lucim had thrown Bright's own lightsaber at him. A warmth exuded from Bright's right hand, causing him to realize that he still held Sila's lightsaber hilt, he chucked it at Lucim who blasted it to the ground with the aid of the Force, that was all Bright needed, for the distraction had caused Lucim to stop controlling Bright's lightsaber with the Force. Bright reached up and caught his Lightsaber out of the air. He soon discovered that the object he was grabbing and had used to hoist himself up was part of the cockpit railing of the Star Phantom he had stolen three months prior, he climbed in, took off and cleared the hangar before Cheots Lucim could reach him.

The charred man observed his reflection in the cockpit's glass and let out a grunt of anger. All of his hair had burnt off and most of his face was burnt beyond recognition, he didn't even want to know how the rest of his body looked. The words exchanged during his last encounter with Lucim replayed through his mind. “Sacrilege. It'll do.” he muttered to himself as he plotted a random hyperspace course and passed out due to a combination of pain and weariness as the Star Phantom lurched into hyperspace towards its unknown destination.

Part 3
A spear-shaped Salvage hauler casually locked the Star Phantom in its tractor beam, whilst the newly christen Sacrilege lie unconscious, pulling it to it as one of its crew members opened the bay doors to bring it aboard. A burly Aqualish and a scrawny Rodian, both male, cautiously approached their new-found salvage. The Rodian peered into the cockpit and spotted the unconscious pilot. “Go get some Fibercord, while I force open the cockpit” ordered the Rodian. The Rodian had managed to open the cockpit by the time the Aqualish had returned with the Fibercord, much to the Aqualish's surprise. The Aqualish quickly bound Sacrilege's hands together and slung him over his shoulder. “What should we do with ugly, Veehmert?” “Drop him. First we search him, then we vent him out the airlock.” The pair of opportunists felt their captive up and down, Veehmert felt something cold and metalic underneath Sacrilege's charred cloak, he pulled it out, a lightsaber. The Rodian held it up for his accomplice to see. “Darmain! Do you know what this is?” “No, what is it?” “This is a lightsaber. The weapon that those cultists use, it can cut through nearly anything. It ought to fetch a fine price, I'll live like a king!”

Darmain frowned, “Don't you mean, we'll?” Now Veehmert frowned too, he stealthily fingered the trigger of his blaster underneath his coat. “No, Darmain.” A bolt of energy struck the Aqualish in the chest. The Aqualish's eyes gazed into the Rodian's as he fell to his knees and then went slack and hit the ground. Veehmert looked back at his unmoving captive. “Ah, damn. I should have kept quiet about my little prize and had the oaf haul him to the airlock.” Veehmert put the lightsaber in the breast pocket of his coat. He then grabbed Sacrilege by the legs and began dragging him towards the airlock. Sacrilege's eye snapped open. A quick survey clued him in on his predicament. He shut his eye and entranced himself in the Force, allowing himself to become a part of it. He felt only himself and the Rodian, no others were wherever they were located.

He felt a bit more, a ship, a moving ship was his location. He could feel the ignition switch of his lightsaber with his mind, he used the Force as an extension of himself and thumbed the switch with it. The blue blade shot straight out of the hilt through the Rodian's chin and out the other side of his head. Both the dead Rodian and the lightsaber hit the ground; Sacrilege crawled to his lightsaber and outstretched his bound hands to where the blade cut through the Fibercord that bound them. Although somewhat difficult because of his injuries; he managed to move the corpses to the airlock and jettison them.

Sacrilege searched the Salvage hauler for a med-bay in the hopes of finding something to alleviate his pain, to his displeasure he discovered that the ship lacked a med-bay or medical facilities of any sort. He ascended to the cockpit and checked the navigation charts, searching with his finger. “I'm in the... Teilcam system, this does not sound promising. Nesmos, Delupa, Seingoranos. Ah. Kabaira, home of Delgas Medical. They'll have what I need. They'd better or I'm not going to last much longer” Sacrilege reasoned to himself aloud as he keyed the coordinates into Hopeful Prospect's astrogation computer.

Kabaira was fairly unique in that the planet did not have a single topographical feature, it contained many. It was filled with volcanic islands, oceans, snow-topped mountains and cities; a dense damp fog always blanketed the planet, always. Hopful Prospect gently touched down on an unoccupied, snow covered landing pad at the Eponte Spaceport and lowered its ramp. Sacrilege slowly descended the ramp as he glanced around. Near the spaceport sat a cantina, beside that stood Delgas Medical, a grin formed across Sacrilege's burnt visage. How lucky he was. Multiple beings gawked as the burnt man strode passed them, ignoring them and focusing on his goal. The thought of alleviating the pain and fixing his appearance were the only things on his mind. Sacrilege reached forward and opened the lobby door, he stepped inside with great effort and was met by faces with varying expressions on them. He began to walk up to the desk and opened his mouth to speak as he did so, instead of speaking he collapsed on the ground, his consciousness fleeing him.

Part 4
Bog Snakes, Churla Worms and various other forms of wildlife slithered past Rabo Blood as he walked through Pembric II's boggy wetlands. Rabo paid no attention to the rain as it battered against him, while he traversed the wetlands. He arrived at his destination thirty-five minutes after having departed Erwithat, he quickly glanced back toward the slum ridden capital city before reaching into the hollowed out tree and twisting the hidden handle, the city wasn't in view, nor was anybody. A dry part of the ground slowly opened up revealing a previously hidden passageway, Rabo climbed down it, only pausing to pull a lever next to the ladder. The roof above shut by the time Rabo had reached the bottom.

Giving exception to how Rabo had entered there was one exit to the room he was in. He walked through the passageway, which became more lit the farther along he progressed. The passageway ended at a room that contained a round table with four beings seated at it, there was no other discernible exit. Rabo cleared his throat and began to speak as he seated himself, “Thank you, Mesar Prill of the Exchange. Thank you, Krem Bombaasa of the Bombaasa Cartel. Thank you, Folt Noor of The Flail. And last but not least, Thank you, Trevyn Zann of the Zann Consortium. Thank you all for taking time out of your very busy schedules to come here. Black Sun has decided to skip out on our little meeting, so I-” Krem Bombaasa interrupted “-Get to the point, Blood. I didn't allow you the use of one of my hideaways so that you could go off on a tangent.”

Anger flared up inside of Rabo Blood, it had been humiliating enough for Rabo to thank them for their time, interruptions and insults were something that Rabo could not stand. Rabo throttled his anger and forced it back down, now was not the time, he had to make this work. “Of course, Bombaasa. I have a plan that will strengthen the Blood Conglomerate's grip on the galaxy, but I need all of your groups to participate in order to pull it off. Once the Blood Conglomerate is in control of the galaxy, we shall turn a blind eye to your activities and in addition to that we shall reward you with star systems, credits, and other riches. I'm willing to go into more details about that if the first job is successful. I have just one rule: this meeting is just between us, the individuals in this room. Anyone here interested?”

Supreme Chancellor Ellep Horn looked away from his monitor and glanced at the chronometer on his wrist, late. Frowning, the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Federation stood and began to pace back and forth by the exit to his office. ''Is his tardiness good or bad? Could they have made a break through on the...''

A sharp knock on the door interrupted Horn's thoughts. The door opened without his approval and Vice-Chair Unk Durr strolled in with a smile sprawled across his face. The Zabrak's eyes met the Gran's eyes, giving a questioning look. “We've done it, Horn!” “You mean that Subject X5K...” “Yes, the cells from X5K's body are Force resistant.” “What about integration?” “We've already done that, the Force resistance wasn't able to be directly transferred over to the armor, so we had to fuse the skin and the armor to achieve the desired effect. As long as the armor is covered in the skin, it is Force resistant.” “So, Subject X5K really is a...” “Yuuzhan Vong, yes.” The room was silent for a moment, Horn collected himself and began to speak with renewed vigor, “To think that the galaxy had the opportunity to be rid of the Force thousands of years ago and squandered it, Durr! Have you discovered what causes their Force resistance?” “Not yet, it'll take more testing. We were lucky to happen across this one, only twenty-three show up in the official galactic travel records for the past one-thousand years.”

Horn slumped against the wall and face-palmed himself. “So then, mass producing the armor will be impossible?” “Oh, no. We cloned the Vong.” Horn let a smile flash across his face.