For a Few Credits More

Von’dervan drug the bag into Kif’s office.  He set it into the middle of the room and glared at the twi’lek.

“Well, that couldn’t have gone much worse.”  Kif’et turned and went to the door and shut it, then set the lock.  “I swear, Von,” he said, slightly out of breath.  “Did you really need the fireworks?”

Von’dervan shrugged.  “I felt it necessary.  You lost track of time while you were watching that sith lady bathe herself.”  Kif turned and grunted.  “Besides, now no one is following us.  They are too busy putting out fires, and chasing down gormak invaders.”

Von was right.  The explosion he had triggered had thrown the imperial outpost into disarray and had allowed them to escape undetected.  It also had reminded Kif that he had other things he needed to do at that time.

The Zabrak set the bag in the middle of the office and Kif came over next to him.  He pulled the zipper seal apart and examined the remains of the sith lord inside.

Saltion’s saber had only needed the one blow to cut the head in half.  Kif’et was able to verify that what remained was indeed Veraan’s face.  It was one he could not forget.  Still, something didn’t feel right about it.

He began to examine the rest of the body, and did not take to long to determine why he felt so wrong.

“Von, big guy.”  The zabrak looked at him.  “This ain’t him.”

“Look, blue.”  The muscular Zabrak replied as he looked at the twi’lek.  “This is him.  Bioscan confirms it.”

Kif shook his head.  “This ain’t him.”  He paused, took a breath, and then ripped off the sith’s right sleeve.  “Unless sith can regrow a limb without any scar tissue.”

Both of them stared at the arm.  No marks, or trace of previous injury were there.

“I don’t know how, but this is a fake.”  He muttered a word of curse, then looked at Von with a serious look in his eyes.  “Clone.”

No More Shades

Veraan scraped away the last bit of earth from the container.  It was sealed, but he could still feel the malice seeping forth from it.   He directed two of his others to help him pull it from the ground.  This was their prize.

 

Something from the darkness around them was calling, begging to break the seal and open the box.  Veraan grinned.  Whatever was inside was powerful, and had called to him since he had set foot on Voss again.

 

He looked to his two others, and they nodded back at him.  Whatever power was within the sealed container, would soon learn that it had chosen poorly.

 

******************

 

Saltion roused from his slumber.  Slowly he untangled himself from his love’s arms and slid from their bedroll.  The sun had not yet risen, nor would it begin to breach the horizon for some time.

 

Part of him wanted to crawl back under the covers, and return to the dream he had been sharing with Shaylin.  However, something had awoken him, and was now calling to him.

 

He dressed himself in his normal tattered seeming robes.  He checked the contents of the hidden fold, then clasped Whisper to it’s place on his belt.  Slowly, he made his way outside of the shrine.

 

Whatever beckoned him, it did not give away it’s intent.  He carefully let the force guide him to the source.  He travelled southeast of the shrine.

 

As he approached the ruins that lay there, he gathered the force about him.  The gormak tended to watch the ruins, but they were not present as he came close.

 

The ruins were silent.  Saltion made his way to the center.  There he found the gormak he had been wary of.  Their bodies were rent apart, strewn across the ground.  He stopped, and held to the shadows, and the shroud of the force around him.

 

A lone figure stepped from behind a crumbling wall.  Saltion did not need to see his face, nor did he need to use the force to determine who it was.

 

The figure stepped into the clearing where the bodies lie.  He spread his arms and circled around.  “I know you are there, brother.”  Veraan’s voice was steady, flat, and emotionless as he spoke.

“I can smell you.  I know you are here,” he continued.  “Come out of your shadows.  We both know they won’t hide you from our bond.”

 

Saltion circled behind him, at a small distance, and let the shroud of the force dissipate from around him.  Veraan still looked away from him.

 

Saltion coughed politely, “Over here.”

 

Veraan turned to face him.  “Still resorting to your cheap tricks?”  Saltion shrugged at his pure-blood brother.  “Not very jedi like of you.”

 

“I thought you made an agreement with the others,” Saltion spoke.  “I’m assuming that you have decided to renege your end of the bargain.”

 

Veraan grinned “that depends.”

 

“On what?”

 

“Oh I don’t know…” Veraan cut his sentence short as he drew his saber and threw it at Saltion.

 

The jedi dropped to his left, rolled and faded into the shadows.  Veraan willed his blade back to his hand.

 

“Come now, if you keep doing that, killing you will take all morning.”  Veraan looked around.  The dimness in the early morning would not aid him.  He heard a sound to his right and swung his saber, hitting nothing but air.

 

Saltion scrambled behind one of the crumbling walls.  He judged his options, and chose to leap to the top of a pillar and wait for an opening.  He watched as Veraan swung at the air below him as he landed above.

 

From his perch the jedi began to evaluate his surroundings once again.  Deciding how to strike at the sith.  Below, Veraan stood still lowered his head and closed his eyes.

 

Saltion decided on his course of action and prepared to jump when Veraan flung one arm out at the pillar that Saltion stood on.  A wave of force energy struck the pillar.

 

Saltion lept, barely in time.  He landed to his opponents unarmed side and drew his staff.  He extended a single blade form it, and let the shroud drop from him.

“No more stupid jedi tricks, brother.”  Slowly he turned to face his brother.  “Face to face, as the force intends it.”  He snarled and stepped towards Saltion.

 

The Saltion took a defensive posture and deflected the first few blows.  Veraan lowered a shoulder and slammed into Saltion.

 

The jedi staggered back, barely keeping his footing.  Veraan pressed his attack.  Saltion ignited the back end of his staff, and battered back the assault.

 

Both sides traded blows, neither gaining an upper hand.  Finally, Veraan stepped back.  and glared at Saltion.  They had battled each other enough to figure each other out.

 

He decided to try a new tactic.  The sith reached out toward his brother through the force, and sent a bolt of pain into his mind.  Saltion grunted and dropped his guard.  Veraan swung hard down on his brother.

 

Saltion instinctively reached into his bag of shadow’s tricks and collapsed the force around them, slowing time.  He managed to deflect part of the blow, his shield flickered and caught the rest of the lethal blow, but the force of the impact dropped him to a knee.  Instinctively, he swung up with his hand.  The sith took the blow and ignored it.

 

He could feel his shoulder loosen as a muscle tore.  It took effort to suppress the pain.  His brother readied for a second blow.  His mind raced, where did that come from?  His other arm swung and hit Veraan’s sword arm.  The sith again acted as if nothing hit him.

 

He rolled away and kept focusing on the flow of the force around his brother.  The beast had been slowed, but not as much as had had been in previous battles.  Veraan almost seemed to be shrugging off the effects of Saltion’s tricks.

 

He came again, with the same aggression.  His swings wild and strong.  Saltion tried his best to counter, but with his shoulder getting worse with each blow, his saber strikes were weakened and his more physical strike were apparently harmless .

 

Veraan feinted a swing of his saber and slammed the pommel on Saltion’s shoulder.  Then his fist met Saltion’s midsection.  The jedi fell to the ground, his staff rolled away from his hand.  Veraan swatted it with his saber, breaking it apart.

 

Veraan stood over his brother, and prepared to give the final blow.  He lifted his saber…

 

To his surprise his arm did not respond.  He looked down at his hand in confusion.  His right hand still held the saber, but it had gone numb.

 

“Interesting,” he murmured.  He looked to his brother, who now was struggling to gain his feet.  “I suppose this is another of your cowardly tricks?”

 

Saltion’s head hurt.  He could feel his strength draining from him.  “Numb?.  It’s about time it started working,”  he paused to catch a breath and steady himself as he rose to his feet.  “Not a shadow’s trick, mind you, but a very effective one it seems.”  The sith growled at him, but could not manage to attack.

 

“The first blow hit that arm, didn’t it.”  Saltion began to draw himself up to his full height, and examine his brother.

 

“What is this?  The hell did you do to me,” demanded the sith.  Saltion stepped up to his brother and pulled the saber from his hand.  Veraan spat at the jedi.

 

“Morichro,” Saltion said softly.  The sith stared at him dumbly.  “I don’t expect you to understand what it is.  But safe to say, no sith will ever be able to use it.”  He paused, and looked into his brother’s eyes.  “Your own body is shutting down.  Soon you will sleep, Veraan.  The voss will see you back to your kind safely.”

 

Veraan’s anger boiled over.  He tried to attack his brother, but his arms failed to respond.  As his brother spoke he felt sleep beginning to overtake him.  “I will find you,” he said angrily.  “I will kill you, your friends, your mongrel brother,” then Veraan put all he could into moving into his brother’s face “and then I’m going to get my hands on your little whore.”

 

He could feel the anger in him.  Veraan was baiting him.  Saltion stepped back.  One more blow would send his opponent into a coma.  But to use this technique required him to do it with no malice.

 

Saltion turned his back as Veraan slipped to a knee.  He searched his mind and his feelings.  No matter which way he looked at it, he came to the same answer.  “Do you know what a shadow is, sith?”

 

Veraan grunted, back at him.  Of course he knew what a shadow was.  “We are granted our leniency in what we do, for the sole purpose of fighting the dark with the dark.”  He turned and face his brother.  “What I have done to you here, drained almost all I have in me.  I tried to show you mercy.  Something in me wanted to believe that because you and I are from the same blood, you could see the light.”

 

The sith spat at his feet.  “Obviously I was in error.”  Saltion reached into the hidden fold of his robes and drew forth it’s contents.  Veraan struggled to lift his head and stare at what Saltion held.  He watched as two green-black blades extended from the blurred object.

 

“Veraan, brother, I have tried to hold back against you.  Even allowing my friends to become confused by my actions regarding you.” He sighed and readied himself.  “Know that for what you said, you are no longer my brother.”  His saber rose, “you are simply another sith, whose life is mine for the taking.”

 

“Unarmed,” Veraan struggled to say.

 

“I know, sith” Saltion responded.  He swung the saber down.

 

************

 

Pain shot through his head.  He screamed and dropped the holocron he held.  One of the others, scrambled to help steady him.

 

“He lives,” he groaned in agony.  “Saltion survived.”

 

More of the others came over and surrounded the man.  “He failed,” his voice croaked.  After a moment he offered the holocron to one of the others.  “Use this, learn from that one’s mistake.”  It nodded and took the glowing cube.

 

“Do not fail, lest our brother kill you as well.”

The one who spoke, the one who had held the cube put his hands to his head.  One was crimson and flesh, the other was dark and of a machine.

Drunk Dialing, a Kif’et short.

Kif’et was angry when he made it back to his office.  He went to his private office and opened his hidden stash of liquor.  A green tinted bottle of an old alderaanian vintage stared at him.  He shook his head and grabbed a half full bottle of a dark, amber, liquid.

He pulled out the stopper, put it to his lips and tilted his head back.  The bottle drained itself into his belly.  He dropped it to the floor and gasped for air.

“That’s about six thousand credits there,” he said as he stared at the bottle.  “Worth every last bit.”  He grabbed a bottle of the same booze and went to his chair.  He turned on his holoterminal and streamed through any data he could find to take his mind off of the anger.

After another bottle he felt his senses losing their grip on reality.  He grabbed his standy by bottle of whiskey he kept under his desk and began to sip it.

As drunk as he was, he could no longer remember why he had been angry.  He tried to think of why and only one thought came to him…loneliness.

He had gone to visit his brother, only to interrupt him and his now sort-of wife enjoying a walk through the temple grounds together.  It had stung a nerve in him.

He pulled out his datapad and pulled up an image.  His anger turned to sadness.

Kif dropped his datapad to the floor and flopped his head down onto his desk.  His holocom activated without him realizing it.  He groaned a name as he began to wallow in his misery.  The A.I. built into his computer began an attempt to contact this person.

“Zamarra,” he said “I know I’m trash.  I’m dirty, rotten, and a total pile of bantha skite.”  He shook his head and ground his face into his desk as he began to weep.

“I wanted to be a better man for you.  To be good enough for you.”  His head shot up and he leaned back in his chair.

His voice rose “Force, gods, or whatever is out there.  The hell am I supposed to do.”  He threw his arms out drunkenly and dramatically.  “Am I forced to truly love someone that wants nothing to do with me?”

He reached his arms towards the ceiling above him, as if pleading “What sin, what crime did I commit to deserve this?”  His hands came up to his face and he cried more.  “I give up.  I love her.”  He went on for a time, groaning about wanting to be hers, and her his.

“Why can’t she just…”  He looked up, through his fingers, and saw the terminal active.  He didn’t look to see who it contacted, only that it was sending a signal.

He swore, leaned forward and tried to turn it off.  “Whoever is listening, keep this to yourself.  Let me suffer on my own.”  The terminal clicked off.  He slumped forward and grumbled until sleep overtook him.

Storm on the Horizon

As he travelled back to his lair, Veraan reflected on his fortune.  He had travelled from his hole in the nightmare lands seeking his brother.  Something had felt wrong to him, as if Saltion was in two separate places at the same time.  He had chosen to follow the feeling in the force to Voss Ka.

When he arrived, he did his best to not draw attention to himself as he began to wander through the streets.  His last visit here had drawn a bit of unwanted publicity towards him, and the empire.  He did not want anyone to easily identify him.

Eventually his quest for the “presence” that was Saltion led him to a fair sized building in the republic district.  At first he felt a bit uneasy.  This was the weak republic’s quarter.  If anything, he would be alone.  However, the number of voss commandos and civilians around made him decide that whoever was inside, would be just as interested in avoiding hostilities…at least for now.

Inside he had found two things that surprised him.  One the new high warden was not as impressive as he had imagined.  This Curu’finwe was a far cry from the figure that Elek’s brother had reportedly been.  Perhaps because it was due to him being human, or hiding behind a mask.  Still, Veraan did hold a bit of respect for a man that would bring down a mountain to stop him.  It meant this one would take him seriously.  This would be mistake one that the wardens had made.

Secondly, Saltion was not inside.  Instead was a young chiss.  One who’s body gave off an aura that felt like his brother’s.  The implications were immediate to Veraan.  This was his brother’s lover.  That she was here would be mistake number two.

He had been dismayed that Saltion was not there.  Still, his brother’s accomplises would end up doing his bidding.  He told them to keep Saltion away from the nightmare lands.  That he would be there, and would not leave there to attack him.

He knew they would deliver the warning “stay out of the nightmare lands, or I will kill you.”  He also knew that Saltion would most certainly ty to challenge him.  This would be their third mistake.

As he reached his lair he smiled.  His final act there had been to rough up the twi’lek a bit.  He had already been outside when he acted, so the others would not be able to react in time.  It was a petty act, but one he was pleased with.

He stepped inside his lair, and saw a welcoming face.  “So, worth the trouble?”  It asked him.

Veraan nodded and looked around.  He counted three of his seven soldiers within the chamber, and reflected on his past fortunes.  His previous affiliations had been useful.  Elek had given him information on several core members of the wardens, his own brother’s closest friends.  Verevor had given him something else.

Verevor was many things, insane, greedy, ruthless, and dead.  But there was one thing that Verevor had done his best to keep hidden, and failed at least with Veraan at.  Verevor had been a cloner.
Three faces, identical to Veraan’s peered at him.  He couldn’t help but begin to laugh.  “The plan is set in motion.  You each know your part.”

For a Few Credits More

The blue man lay upon an examination table.  When he opened his eyes he beheld a blurred figure above him.  It’s hand was outstretched, and held a flashing light.  He closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

With much effort he tried to to focus on something other than what he had just experienced.  Something of great darkness had pushed into his mind, and while it had been forced back, he could still feel it’s effect.

He had been investigating ruins on Voss.  He and a few companions had made their way to a shrine of sorts within the heart of the Nightmare Lands.  It was there he had met the darkness.

It started as a feeling as he approached the shrine.  Like a cold weight slowly being pressed on his soul.  His faint connection to the force, the voice that always told him to watch out, tried to scream a warning to him once, then was silenced.

Had he been alone he would have ran at that instance, but he had his companions.  Kif had been trying to establish himself as a respectable person among the wardens.  He felt running from this feeling would keep him labeled as an undesirable.  Besides, only a handful had agreed to help him with this mission.  Perhaps if he succeeded, then the others would start to accept him.

Simdor had been there, he was a shadow like his brother.  It had been a small boon, Kif had worked with his brother at his side many times.  Though it wouldn’t be the same, he knew that he could at least trust his training.

Another twi’lek was there.  Leikani was her name, and she seemed to be a bit nervous around him, as were most of the female wardens, and kept her distance.  He knew that one day he would need to rectify that.  He had cleaned up his act after falling for one of them, but in the end, his history had caught up with him and left him as he usually was, alone.

An unexpected companion was Shaidyn.  If any of them could be depended upon it was the grumpy chiss.  The two got along well enough, and Kif considered him a friend.

A mirillian was there, Nyssadi.  He knew he a bit, enough to know that she would pull a gun on him if he tried to flirt with her again.  If anything, she was a good enough shot if they got into trouble, and he could try to fail with her again after.  Something that now, he wouldn’t get to do.

He and the others had approached the center of the shrine.  It was fallen to ruins, but mostly untouched, save by a few local beasts.  Most of the artifacts and monuments were intact.

The group spread out and began to investigate.  They shared their information and findings with each other while they poked around.  Kif however, felt the chill around him and kept silent.  Something was watching him.

He made his way through the open air shrine and made his way to the northwestern field.  Something was calling to him in his mind.  At first it tried to take the sound of ‘her’ voice.  Then he thought of his brother and father, he wondered what they would tell him to do.  At that point the voice grew in strength, and took his father’s sound.

It called to him, summoning him.  He obeyed.  The others noticed him, and came to him.  He saw something, unsure what it was he stepped towards it.  They others began to yell at him.

The thing, an amorphous blur, took shape, into that of his father.  Kif’et knew it was dangerous, but he continued towards it.  Three steps later he knew he had to do something.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t friendly.  He tried to fight it.  Something lashed out at him.

A bolt of searing pain flashed through his mind.  He fell to his knees and screamed in pain.  Whatever it was, the grasp on him faltered for a moment.  It had made a mistake.  He cried out for help.  The others rushed in and attacked it.  The blur shimmered as it’s spell over him broke, and it revealed itself to him as the hideous beast it was.

The thing fought the others, and in time it was subdued.  When the beast fell, he could feel it’s malevolence flee the shell.  Flying east into the heart of the cursed land.  The others breathed sighs of relief, but Kif was noticeably shaken to them.  They could tell it had touched him somehow.  He agreed to seek a medical droid.

Here he lay now.  Being checked, as he had agreed.  Whatever it was, had touched him, then fled.  He could tell it was no longer there, but it left a strong impression.  He murmured to the droid.  It leaned towards him.

“Send word to the temple of healing.  Tell them Saltion is needed here.”

*********************

(Somewhere, in the dark heart of the Nightmare Lands…)

The spirit fled to it’s hole.  Someone had found it, or had it found someone.  It’s mind was unshielded, and poorly trained, yet not weak.  It was a choice target.

The spirit sank itself into it briefly, forcing it to it’s current flesh suit.  The beast had an eager appetite, and would eat almost anything.  But the spirit alway made sure to scrape what it could off the victims soul before the beast devoured it.

This one, this blue skinned alien, however was different.  It resisted for a moment.  In that moment the spirit saw three faces.  One of another blue skin like itself, the others were a haired face of a human and the red face of a pureblood.

The spirit faltered for a moment, and the alien called for had called for help.  It’s friends attacked the flesh beast.  The spirit dredged through the mind of the alien, and took what it could.  It fled the suit as it fell and ran home.  Before it left, it left an idea in the alien’s mind…

To be continued…

For a Few Credits More

Kif’et sat there on the stone under the tree.  Neither the stone or the tree would seem of any relative import to anyone who passed by, but to him they mattered.  This was their stone, and their tree.  This was where they always would meet.

Zamarra would meet him here, and sit with him.  They would talk idly, and watch the world pass by.  But today he sat there alone, waiting.

Life Day had come and gone, and with that his absence from his business, and his duties.  He would have to return to Carrick and begin his routine anew.  True he did enjoy having a contract with the SIS, and how it allowed him to bypass security at any republic controlled port, but it cut into his personal time.

He sighed, and stood up from the rock.  As he stretched he wondered if he would ever see her again.  With a shake of his head his lekku flowed in the wind.  Kif picked up his pack and hopped from the rock.

He put her out of his mind and began to think about what his friends at the wardens had offered to him.  They needed someone who was dependable and trustworthy.  And when they couldn’t find someone who fit that description, Saltion had volunteered Kif as the man for the job.

If things didn’t pan out with SIS, a well paid position with the wardens was available.  Though well paid was simply “any spoils found on mission,” and no actual amount.  He actually smiled when he thought of how much it could lead to coupled with his privateer’s license with the republic navy.

Money, with as much as he had put away now, it was nothing more than a way of keeping score.  He hopped on his speeder and pondered what he would do when he did retire.

For a Few Credits More

Kif’s record of awesomeness;

So Life Day is approaching.  I am going to be pulling into port on Voss for most of the season, but plan on attending the party that Rohkea is throwing.  I tried to get ahold of Zamarra to see if she’d go with me, but as usual she is not responding.

On a positive note it seems little brother is going to be here on Voss for awhile.  We were all worried that he’d do something really “Saltion-ish” and go off after Veraan again.  Somehow, though, his little chiss has convinced him to stay put.

He and I have spent a little bit of time together since he arrived planetside.  He’s holed up over at the temple.  Apparently he and her are going to do some weird force, jedi, finger waggling ritual thing to help him about Veraan or something.  I kind of wasn’t paying attention.  I don’t really like hearing him talk about her when things are so stagnant in my life.

While he is down here on a sabbatical I’m going to fill in for him as best I can…which likely will be way more awesome than he could do.  I am giving myself the title of “Lord Fleet Admiral Grand Leader Captain Awesomely Hot Guy”…

Well, Captain Awesome will probably be better to sign.

So I got Salty a rare white adegan crystal for Life Day.  Hope he enjoys it.  I got Zamarra a pretty pink hued one.  I got Curu and Rohkea a couples retreat to a really nice resort.  I also got a few random things for the rest of the wardens, including a supply of very rare vintages for the party.

Hopefully things go well.  I look forward to schmoozing with my buddies and having a grand evening.

Kif out!