The Foundation of All Desire (Part 12)
The pack leader's hackles lifted like rows of serrated razors. Scourge stood his ground, silently appraising the force predators. Ropes of saliva hung from the beasts' mouths, lengthening and plopping to the ground in heavy dollops that sounded like eggs breaking. The beasts pawed at the ground and tossed their heads, snarling. The alpha was powerful, but young. Scourge suspected he'd won his rank by size and sheer physical prowess alone. The alpha female was the one to worry about. She had a canny gaze—intent and persistent as she searched the Sith lord for vulnerabilities. The runt of the pack, smacked a long blue-black tongue over where its muzzle flap should have been.
Scourge gritted his teeth. He could feel the heat and stink of their breath against his face. Even with his blunted connection to the force, he felt their hunger. Denied sustenance in a world that dripped with it only added to their fervor. Unable to restrain himself any longer, the alpha male lunged.
Scourge rolled forward and thrust the lightsaber into the alpha's belly. Blood and dark glistening entrails splashed over Scourge, soaking him. The beast wailed and fell over. Its legs twitched, and its tongue lolled out when it stopped moving. Scourge jumped to his feet and stood poised to strike. The metallic stench of blood permeated the air, driving the beasts into a frenzy. The alpha female's muzzle curled at the death of her mate.
The pack rushed Scourge, knocking him flat on his back. He swung the saber in an awkward arc, decapitating the smallest one. The beasts backed up at the growl of the lightsaber. Scourge flipped backwards and landed in a crouch, his cape suddenly heavy, as one of the beasts tore into it. His head jerked backwards and his torso twisted as he tried to compensate.
The beasts pounced, their jaws snapping just inches away from his face. He could hear the scrape of their teeth and nails against his armour. With the force, he could have dispatched them easily, but having only his own numbed senses would make victory a challenge. He felt the weight of their paws tamping him into the dirt as they tried to savage him. He brought his arms up to protect his head.
The alpha female locked on Scourge's wrist with enough torque to force the saber hilt from his grasp. It rolled beyond his reach with a clatter. Gnawing her way up Scourge's arm, she shredded the outer layer of leather. He cranked his body upwards, and bashed his head against another canid's skull. When the predator crumbled, he kicked the alpha female in the belly with his free leg.
She yelped and tumbled against the wall with a thud. Scourge scrambled for the lightsaber and grunted as his fingers curled around it. Raising his arm, he ignited it, just as another beast leapt towards him, jaws open to clamp on his throat. Scourge drove the blade up through the roof of its muzzle. The creature shuddered and dropped. The sheen in its eyes cracked and grew dull.
He retracted the blade and sprang to his feet. With a deft turn, he plunged the lightsaber into another beast's throat. The animal gurgled and choked, flailing at Scourge's feet as it died.
Scourge stepped over the corpses and regarded the remnants of the predator pack. Stupid with hunger and bloodlust, they showed no signs of retreat. The alpha female pushed herself up slowly and shook herself. Her hind leg quivered, as she struggled to stand. Craning her neck upwards, she emitted a long baleful howl.
Within moments, the thunder of many beasts approaching stirred the jungle and broke the foliage. Several packs teemed toward him, leaping and snarling. Scourge reached through the tenuous force connection in the jungle compound and fed off their ferocity. As their numbers increased, so too did Scourge's wrath.
Scourge sated himself on the dark canid energy until he thought he would burst. His vision flashed over, turning everything a monochromatic shade he remembered as the colour of blood. The hulking Sith felt a keen throbbing ache rip through him, as his hatred amplified. One by one the predators fell at his feet, including the sly alpha female.
Carving a path through blood and bone, he advanced on Creant's compound, leaving a bread crumb trail of twitching corpses. As they lay dying, he gorged on their fear and pain.
After the canids, there were men, scores of them—soldiers and Sith. Scourge seethed. The chemicals the Emperor had pumped into his body so long ago, sang with a mad fury. It was a sleeping power he'd almost forgotten since he'd fled his master. The liquid in his veins bubbled and gurgled, as the Emperor's gift took over. The world fell away, leaving only a void. There was no force and no eternity. There was only death and it wore her face and struck with his vengeance.
His skull reverberated with empty screams as he cut his way in. Blaster bolts faded under the growl of the lightsaber until there was nothing left. Pressing his palm to his forehead he squashed the flood of memories that shrieked through his mind—Revan, The Exile, the tubes that replaced his blood with immortality…the Emperor laughing. Her face.
He panted until he thought he'd be sick from breathing. His gaze shifted toward the grounds. The dead littered the ground as thickly as the lizards had beyond the walls.
Inside the fortress he paused in the main hall. Rows of transparent cases lined the walls. Each contained a trophy from Creant's conquests. His gaze fixed on a familiar item. Slamming his fist into through the glass, he reclaimed his own lightsaber. Igniting it, he held it aloft and sliced through the air, an extension of his terrible will.
The force damping effect of the reptiles ebbed as he neared the heart of the stronghold. Scourge's gaze fixed on the heavyset man seated at the far end of the meditation chamber. The figure turned slowly to face Scourge. Security monitors winked behind him, each a macabre picture of the carnage outside.
"All this, for a Jedi?" Creant croaked.
Scourge extended his lightsaber in challenge.
Creant sat up straighter. "We're pragmatic men. This needn't continue any further. I avenged my daughter. Surely all you have done here today is enough…"
"I could inflict horrors such as you have never imagined for a thousand eternities, and it would never be enough."
"You loved her."
"I am incapable of it."
Creant chuckled. "Yet you inspired in her such passion that she turned her back on the light and murdered for you. In all my years I've never been privy to such a darkly passionate heart as hers. She could have been the perfect Sith."
Scourge swished his lightsaber. "I trust The Hand will be making every effort to make Him corporeal once more."
"What sweet irony, that the one who destroyed His last vessel should be the one to replace it."
"You're a fool. Give me the samples." Scourge hissed. "You don't know what He plans."
Creant chuckled. His brow arched, and a smile lifted his thin lips.
"Face me like a Sith. Draw your saber."
"I suffer no delusions my Lord Wrath. I am no more capable of surviving a duel against you than Tatooine is capable of becoming a rainforest. When my apprentices failed to return, I made preparations for your visit. I know your secret. You long to experience mortal sensations once more. Let me live, and I will make it possible."
"I have no need. Spare me your futile attempts at bargaining."
"Ah yes, because the little Jedi is no more. Eternity is a long time my Lord Wrath. Think of it…taste, smell, colour, touch…all of it could be yours again. There was more than enough material to fashion another. Clones take only a few years to mature. A mere blink to someone like you. You could raise her yourself. Instill all that knowledge you carry. And with my gift…when she's mature, you could…"
"You insult me." Scourge growled and levelled the lightsaber against Creant's throat. The monitors behind him shorted out and grew black.
"If you were truly offended, you would have killed me by now."
Scourge's eyes narrowed.
"Admit it Scourge. The idea is intriguing. You could be everything to her. Think of all you could do. Only I have the cure to your hopeless longing, and sparing my life is such a small price to pay."
"The Emperor's gift cannot be undone."
"Not by any means known to most Sith or Jedi. After my good friend Thanaton was murdered, I managed to slice into his replacement's logs. There is a machine that can remake you. You would be mortal again."
"Explain."
"Rakatan technology on Belsavis, in the depths of the prison. It's called The Mother Machine. I can give you a map, co-ordinates, a copy of the logs. All you need to do, is release me."
"And the samples?"
"I kept one…but the location will remain my secret, until I'm certain, you won't seek me out. When the time is right, I will send you the location of the vault."
Scourge sensed the truth in the other Sith and glowered. He lowered his saber and retracted the blade.
"We have an accord. Do not betray me. You'll wish you had died here today."
Creant nodded and tapped his data pad. "You should have no trouble finding it. The path won't be easy. Beware the Esh-kha."
"Do not make me regret this." Scourge's voice was barely a whisper.
Creant shuddered.
Within the hour, Scourge set a course for Belsavis and set it to auto pilot.
The ship rose into the sky, the jungle foliage below waving in the ship's wake as it blasted off.
Scourge closed his eyes and drew a long deep breath.
Balkar whistled low. "Holy hell. Looks like someone saved you the trouble."
Liatrix knelt and ran her hand over one of the dead canid predators. "They've been dead no longer than a couple of hours." The blood matted fur stuck to her palm.
The agent jogged ahead. "I can't believe what I'm seeing. Who or what could do this kind of damage?" His brows furrowed as he examined the humanoids. "It's got to be Sith—an army of them, judging by these saber burns and the sheer numbers. Looks like someone had it out for Creant as much as you do. Can't say I'm surprised. Someone like Creant must've had his share of enemies."
"It couldn't have been easy. Not with the interference I'm getting. It's like the Force has been cut off here."
"Those reptiles we saw on the way in. They look a lot like some I read about during my academy days." Said Balkar. "They have the ability to hide in the force, use it like camouflage—a defense against predators, which is what I'm guessing those were." He nodded at the dead canids.
Liatrix's gaze fixed on the compound. "Let's see if we can find Creant. I want to make sure the bastard is dead."
"Be careful. Whoever did this, might still be here." Balkar cocked his pistol, and tapped Liatrix's elbow. "Stay close."
He moved just ahead of Liatrix, careful to keep her just behind him.
Balkar paused to examine a broken trophy case. "Something was taken…a lightsaber, I'm guessing." He glanced over at the neighboring boxes. "Probably the owner…"
Liatrix nodded and followed Balkar. He shirked back and gave her an underhanded wave. She ducked into an alcove and waited.
Balkar backed up, his hands up.
"Put down your weapon." Creant hissed.
"A'right. A'right. You got me." Balkar knelt carefully and set his blaster on the floor. He rose slowly, keeping his hands up.
Creant kicked the pistol out of reach. "I don't often get visitors, now twice in one day. What are the odds? What do you want? SIS I'm guessing, by the look of you?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Creant's eyes narrowed. His fingers twitched, and a weak burst of lightning forked into Balkar's chest. "You will tell me, or you will die."
Balkar shuddered and doubled over, gasping. "Is...this…how…you…treat…your…guests?
"Stop it right now." Liatrix stepped from the alcove, lightsaber extended.
The lightning faded and Creant paled. "You're alive. How is that possible?"
"That'll stay my little secret. On your knees. Hands behind your head."
The Sith lord obeyed, his gaze shifting between them.
Balkar scrambled to his feet, and snatched up his pistol. He panted and aimed at the Sith. "Who was here before us?"
Creant sneered. "You're going to have to kill me. Just like you did my daughter."
"Done." Liatrix growled and swung the lightsaber.
Balkar turned his head and averted his gaze. Creant's headless body slumped forward, his head rolling a short distance away.
"Jonas, are you all right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. You didn't have to do that."
"He wasn't going to answer. Besides there's more than one way to get information." She tipped her head toward the computer console.
"I'll see what I can get off the security cams…pull up his files." Balkar leaned over the console, keying in a variety of sequences. He pulled a spike from his inside breast pocket. "Quite a bit of it is encoded. I'll need some time to sort this out. Most of the cameras were damaged by the force of nature that blasted through here. I'd rather not have to do this here, just in case it comes back."
Liatrix nodded. "Agreed. The sooner we get out of here the better."
She walked over to Creant's head and looked into his dull yellow eyes. "His daughter really did have his eyes." She murmured.
Jonas glanced over at her before resuming his downloads.
"I have to wonder…whoever came for him, meant to kill him. Why didn't they?" Said Liatrix.
"That's the million credit question isn't it?" Said Balkar. "Okay, got it. Let's get the hell outta here."
High above the moon's atmosphere, a small unmarked vessel hovered, before dropping lower, to hide behind a planetoid.
((To be continued))
((Have a very Happy New Year everyone!)) :D
