Alec crept stealthily towards 'The Dead Zone,' the war zone which
divided the territories of two of Coruscant's most dangerous fringe gangs.
Being The Venom's main scout and 'quartermaster,' he climbed up the stairs
of one of the key buildings that divided the two forces. When he reached a
floor that wasn't in need of a complete sandblasting in the way of
cleaning, he knew he was where he needed to be. He steeped out onto the
only walkway that led from that floor of the massive edifice. a walkway
which, when it was originally built, probably reached the other facility,
the headquarters of the Flaming Mynocks, the rival to his clanmates, the
Venom. However, after years of decay and an intoxicated pilot driving his
speeder straight into the walkway, it had given way half the way across,
with only a small section, about two feet long, still attached to the other
side. As the fallout of rain and lubricants filtered down from the upper
levels, beating out a constant symphony of thuds and smacks against the
decaying durasteel of Coruscant's lower levels, Alec jumped from one end of
the walkway to the opposite edge, crossing a chasm almost six feet wide
that would have sealed his fate if he hadn't grabbed the edge of the
walkway just in time. These were the lowest walkways in all Coruscant,
covered with grime and ancient layers of dust and oils fallen from the
higher levels. However, it was the only way to safely cross The Dead Zone
without being noticed by the Flamer scouts. and being summarily blasted. It
was an amazing task in itself to get up from the precarious position he was
in, the slime and constantly shifting dust making it difficult to get a
handhold to pull himself up, not to mention that the part he was holding
was not actually a normal part of the walkway, but an extruding metal bar
that had been revealed when the speeder crashed into the walkway so many
years before. He was finally able to stand after some minutes of grueling
labor and pulled out his DL-44. The weapon was his pride and joy, the fruit
of his first mission as a member of The Venom. He had been specially chosen
by his team to do something that had never been done before: to pocket a
blaster off of a stormtrooper from the upper levels. It was the one thing
he could be proud of in this dark world, the one thing he could cling to
when he wanted to justify his own existence.
If I could do this, who knows what else I can do?
He reached the opposite end, peering through the transpari-steel door to look for any Flamers, smiling at their gaps in security. They normally expected any ambushes to come from the wider walkway thirteen stories down, the 'Dead Zone,' and so they hadn't set up any security as high as he was. That was where he'd show them their weakness. Pulling out his team's only viable explosive, an ancient thermal detonator, he went through the clan ritual for using such weapon; he kissed the weapon, spoke a prayer to Fate, and then pulled out the detonator. Slowly, carefully, he walked into the facility itself, marveling that he would be the first Venom to ever enter the Flamer headquarters. He was the first, but he would not be the last. Finally, Venom would win, and he would have his respect. Holding the circular device against the wall, he fought against the feeling of nausea that came from being so high above the Dead Zone, the walkway which had been his ground for all thirteen years of his life. Holding his finger until the last second, he let go of the orb, letting it roll down the duracrete wall. Although his perspective was a little off, he waited until the device was about two stories above the Dead Zone and pressed the detonation trigger, blowing out most of the windows on the floor. and upgrading what one minute before had been a point of contention into a war zone. The final clash had begun.
The Venom were waiting behind the duracrete walls of Venom headquarters, rarely hazarding a glance through the transparisteel, knowing that doing so was a good way to get killed. After an invasion they had attempted just a week before had heightened the alertness of the Flamer's leader, the accursed Pietro. Then, right on time, a massive rumble sounded between the two headquarters, and Kit, the leader of Venom, followed the plan exactly:
Wait forty seconds for Alec to get into position, then let loose Operation Karonar. From Kit's left, he heard one of his fellow Venommates whisper,
"The kid did it. That punk actually did it."
Kit nodded, smiling the 'leader smile' meant to encourage the troops. However, he wasn't feeling very motivated inside. The legend the operation was named after was an ancient Ithorian myth of a final battle between good and evil. where both sides would utterly destroy each other. He didn't consider himself superstitious at nineteen, but it was a bad omen. A bad omen indeed.
The moment Alec was sure that the thermal had detonated at the proper spot, he ran to the nearest stairwell, not wanting to risk himself using the surely booby-trapped turbolifts, and ran downwards towards where Kit had tentatively identified the Flamer's Armoury. His DL-44 in hand, he went down stair after stair, smiling at the complete lack of defenses. Apparently, his thermal detonator ploy had worked, and all the Flamers were at the base level, waiting for the imminent invasion that such a dangerous challenge surely meant. Three floors up from the Dead Zone, he reached the spot he was looking for. although it wasn't what he was hoping for. Strapped to the wall were some old sporting blasters, some spare parts of stormtrooper armor, and that was when he saw them. Two thermals lying side by side. They were an even older model than the one he had used, but they would work just find. Putting on as much of the stormtrooper armor as he could, storing the blasters in a pouch on his side, and pocketing the thermals, he was ready. Or so he thought. Before he could leave the room, a Flamer came to the door, and that was where Alec realized his mistake. The Flamers would most certainly have come to the armoury for their best weapons in case of a full-out conflict between the two gangs, and that meant that the armoury was exactly the place he didn't want to be. Luckily for him, the Flamer was surprised at his appearance, a boy hobbled in stormtrooper armor, holding the weapon of a stormtrooper, and that was what killed him in the end. Alec fired off three shots in panic, one hitting wide, one detonating the power pack of a near-worthless blaster sitting next to the door, and the third hitting the Flamer in the chest, knocking him backwards. He knew, though, that firing a weapon as powerful, and loud, as the DL-44 was sure to attract some attention as low as he was, and that would surely be his death warrant.
He ran out of the room as fast as his young and short legs would take him, taking to the stairs with a passion, running up them as fast as he could go. He could hear faint voices coming up from the lower levels, so he threw one of the thermals, setting it to detonate on impact. He desperately hoped that would delay his opponents longer, but it didn't. He reached the floor he was aiming for weary and tired, feeling the true darkness of lower Coruscant crawling in on him for the first time in years. He almost reached the walkway when the turbolift doors opened, spilling out two Flamers with weapons aimed. The faint pulses of blaster fire below couldn't compare with the sound of the beam of energy that struck him in the shoulder. He was knocked backwards, up against the very edge of the walkway, clutching his wounded shoulder with his hand. The Flamers came up to him slowly, their weapons aimed. Alec had heard some of his clanmates talk about a feeling of victory that comes from a near death experience, or having their life flash before their eyes. He felt nothing of the sort. As the pain started to cause his arm to spasm, he closed his eyes. and laughed. For a moment, the battle below stopped as his chuckle started to grow into a full blown cheer of exultation, the sound echoing louder than the blasterfire against the walls of Lower Coruscant. The air was deathly still except for his laughter, and both sides stopped to listen to the strange sound coming from above their heads. War itself stopped simply to hear the laughter of a single little boy.
Alec's eyes were feral as he started to drag himself closer to the edge of what little walkway there was, his hand clutched to the barely- bleeding wound on his shoulder. If the searing pain of the instant cauterization of his flesh had effected him, he didn't show it. His high, brittle voice simply echoed erratic laughter, him being free from the world. That was when the Flamers noticed what Alec was holding over the edge of the walkway. Alec stopped laughing just long enough for him to look at them, smiling.
"I know my. purpose now. Don't you. see? I.was.chosen.to.end. this wa."
As the life drifted out of him, the thermal detonator rolled out of his hands. and over the edge of the walkway. Time seemed to slow as the ball fell down towards where the two sides were battling, and both sides noticed the detonator just a little too late to save all their ranks. The explosion was earthshaking. and after the dust settled, there was nothing left.
That day, twenty two boys out of sixty died, either from blaster wounds or the explosion. Both sides were devastated by the blast, the ones killed being the brave and experience ones who were too far out on the 'Dead Zone' walkway to save themselves. The two sides agreed to a truce over the blood of the dead, a sacred bond between the two clans. Some say it was political, since the two sides could no longer battle with their only battle site destroyed, but Pietro and Ender, Kit's replacement, would say otherwise. The strange thing is, after the truce was established, neither side remembered why they fought.
Up above, the battle never existed. Two engineering teams were sent to investigate the strange tremor in facility FFMX13, but the collapsed walkways and the wrecked headquarters of the Flaming Mynocks were attributed to age and poor construction, and a makeshift repair job was completed. The incident became nothing but more paperwork. Life continued as normal. and no one knew about the battle going down below. However, they knew, and they would never forget. No more would die, and all because of the actions of one boy. Alec Farlander. Venom's first hero, and the underworld's greatest known legend.
If I could do this, who knows what else I can do?
He reached the opposite end, peering through the transpari-steel door to look for any Flamers, smiling at their gaps in security. They normally expected any ambushes to come from the wider walkway thirteen stories down, the 'Dead Zone,' and so they hadn't set up any security as high as he was. That was where he'd show them their weakness. Pulling out his team's only viable explosive, an ancient thermal detonator, he went through the clan ritual for using such weapon; he kissed the weapon, spoke a prayer to Fate, and then pulled out the detonator. Slowly, carefully, he walked into the facility itself, marveling that he would be the first Venom to ever enter the Flamer headquarters. He was the first, but he would not be the last. Finally, Venom would win, and he would have his respect. Holding the circular device against the wall, he fought against the feeling of nausea that came from being so high above the Dead Zone, the walkway which had been his ground for all thirteen years of his life. Holding his finger until the last second, he let go of the orb, letting it roll down the duracrete wall. Although his perspective was a little off, he waited until the device was about two stories above the Dead Zone and pressed the detonation trigger, blowing out most of the windows on the floor. and upgrading what one minute before had been a point of contention into a war zone. The final clash had begun.
The Venom were waiting behind the duracrete walls of Venom headquarters, rarely hazarding a glance through the transparisteel, knowing that doing so was a good way to get killed. After an invasion they had attempted just a week before had heightened the alertness of the Flamer's leader, the accursed Pietro. Then, right on time, a massive rumble sounded between the two headquarters, and Kit, the leader of Venom, followed the plan exactly:
Wait forty seconds for Alec to get into position, then let loose Operation Karonar. From Kit's left, he heard one of his fellow Venommates whisper,
"The kid did it. That punk actually did it."
Kit nodded, smiling the 'leader smile' meant to encourage the troops. However, he wasn't feeling very motivated inside. The legend the operation was named after was an ancient Ithorian myth of a final battle between good and evil. where both sides would utterly destroy each other. He didn't consider himself superstitious at nineteen, but it was a bad omen. A bad omen indeed.
The moment Alec was sure that the thermal had detonated at the proper spot, he ran to the nearest stairwell, not wanting to risk himself using the surely booby-trapped turbolifts, and ran downwards towards where Kit had tentatively identified the Flamer's Armoury. His DL-44 in hand, he went down stair after stair, smiling at the complete lack of defenses. Apparently, his thermal detonator ploy had worked, and all the Flamers were at the base level, waiting for the imminent invasion that such a dangerous challenge surely meant. Three floors up from the Dead Zone, he reached the spot he was looking for. although it wasn't what he was hoping for. Strapped to the wall were some old sporting blasters, some spare parts of stormtrooper armor, and that was when he saw them. Two thermals lying side by side. They were an even older model than the one he had used, but they would work just find. Putting on as much of the stormtrooper armor as he could, storing the blasters in a pouch on his side, and pocketing the thermals, he was ready. Or so he thought. Before he could leave the room, a Flamer came to the door, and that was where Alec realized his mistake. The Flamers would most certainly have come to the armoury for their best weapons in case of a full-out conflict between the two gangs, and that meant that the armoury was exactly the place he didn't want to be. Luckily for him, the Flamer was surprised at his appearance, a boy hobbled in stormtrooper armor, holding the weapon of a stormtrooper, and that was what killed him in the end. Alec fired off three shots in panic, one hitting wide, one detonating the power pack of a near-worthless blaster sitting next to the door, and the third hitting the Flamer in the chest, knocking him backwards. He knew, though, that firing a weapon as powerful, and loud, as the DL-44 was sure to attract some attention as low as he was, and that would surely be his death warrant.
He ran out of the room as fast as his young and short legs would take him, taking to the stairs with a passion, running up them as fast as he could go. He could hear faint voices coming up from the lower levels, so he threw one of the thermals, setting it to detonate on impact. He desperately hoped that would delay his opponents longer, but it didn't. He reached the floor he was aiming for weary and tired, feeling the true darkness of lower Coruscant crawling in on him for the first time in years. He almost reached the walkway when the turbolift doors opened, spilling out two Flamers with weapons aimed. The faint pulses of blaster fire below couldn't compare with the sound of the beam of energy that struck him in the shoulder. He was knocked backwards, up against the very edge of the walkway, clutching his wounded shoulder with his hand. The Flamers came up to him slowly, their weapons aimed. Alec had heard some of his clanmates talk about a feeling of victory that comes from a near death experience, or having their life flash before their eyes. He felt nothing of the sort. As the pain started to cause his arm to spasm, he closed his eyes. and laughed. For a moment, the battle below stopped as his chuckle started to grow into a full blown cheer of exultation, the sound echoing louder than the blasterfire against the walls of Lower Coruscant. The air was deathly still except for his laughter, and both sides stopped to listen to the strange sound coming from above their heads. War itself stopped simply to hear the laughter of a single little boy.
Alec's eyes were feral as he started to drag himself closer to the edge of what little walkway there was, his hand clutched to the barely- bleeding wound on his shoulder. If the searing pain of the instant cauterization of his flesh had effected him, he didn't show it. His high, brittle voice simply echoed erratic laughter, him being free from the world. That was when the Flamers noticed what Alec was holding over the edge of the walkway. Alec stopped laughing just long enough for him to look at them, smiling.
"I know my. purpose now. Don't you. see? I.was.chosen.to.end. this wa."
As the life drifted out of him, the thermal detonator rolled out of his hands. and over the edge of the walkway. Time seemed to slow as the ball fell down towards where the two sides were battling, and both sides noticed the detonator just a little too late to save all their ranks. The explosion was earthshaking. and after the dust settled, there was nothing left.
That day, twenty two boys out of sixty died, either from blaster wounds or the explosion. Both sides were devastated by the blast, the ones killed being the brave and experience ones who were too far out on the 'Dead Zone' walkway to save themselves. The two sides agreed to a truce over the blood of the dead, a sacred bond between the two clans. Some say it was political, since the two sides could no longer battle with their only battle site destroyed, but Pietro and Ender, Kit's replacement, would say otherwise. The strange thing is, after the truce was established, neither side remembered why they fought.
Up above, the battle never existed. Two engineering teams were sent to investigate the strange tremor in facility FFMX13, but the collapsed walkways and the wrecked headquarters of the Flaming Mynocks were attributed to age and poor construction, and a makeshift repair job was completed. The incident became nothing but more paperwork. Life continued as normal. and no one knew about the battle going down below. However, they knew, and they would never forget. No more would die, and all because of the actions of one boy. Alec Farlander. Venom's first hero, and the underworld's greatest known legend.