Chapter : 9 The girl in the well.
Here's chapter 9, we're creeping towards the end of the Nat Shaddaa arc. It's going to be an explosive finish when it gets there!
Let me know if I'm messing up something, revealing too much, too little. Too much tell instead of show. Too much show instead of tell. Too slow moving, too fast?
As always, call me crazy, critique, review, like don't like. Throw tomatoes, etc, etc.
32 BBY
Red light sector, Nar Shaddaa.
"So, just making sure before we do this… Are you done blubbering?" Izzaela teased her short companion as they walked down the street. Their blood stained predatory walk effectively clearing the bystanders, as sentients realise they had somewhere else to be.
Aliia puffed out her cheeks, "I sooo did not blubber!" She shot back, drawing her vibroblade, checking it over a final time. She had been using it vigorously and didn't want to miss any possible blemishes.
"If you say so…" Izzaela chuckled, pulling out two black spheres from the pouch on her hip. Rolling them in between her fingers casually.
"At most, I gently showed my appreciation for your continued wellbeing." Aliia's attempt at a more posh accent really didn't fit with her action of kicking in the door of the bar, sending splinters flying into the dark smoky room. All sounds of chatter dying immediately, music still blaring a techno beat.
A whole room filled with sentients all turned in their direction, only a quarter showing the sense to be already pointing weapons their way. Even on Nar Shaddaa there seemed to be an awful lot of sentients with no survival instincts at all.
Izzaela tossed the smoke grenades into the room casually, one for each side of the room, followed up by drawing her blaster and giving the proprietor a new breathing hole, his brains decorating the booze shelf behind him. "The lady act doesn't fit with the amount of snot and tears that stained my clothes, Aliia."
Smoke exploded out of the grenades, a cloud of dark smelly smog taking over the room, destroying any visibility, the women easily avoiding the few blaster shots the men got off beforehand. Izzaela blasting another man in the groin, the man falling over into a Evocii who accidentally shot and killed the wounded man in a fit of panic.
"That is slander." Aliia sniffed haughtily, grabbing a Gran firing blindly in her direction. Spinning him around, using him as a shield and to blast down several nearby criminals, before sliding her blade into his back. Letting him fall down, throwing her sword to the right so hard it pierced through the nearest alive criminal and into the heart of the man standing behind him. She took a running leap, grabbing back her sword with a squelch of body parts falling as she landed, rolling over the table they were at, and beheading the Weequay hiding and firing from behind it. "I always behave in a way befitting a lady of my noble stature."
Izzaela rolled her eyes, firing and getting another headshot on a Twi'lek who didn't duck quick enough, the brain matter splattering the other man hiding with him, making the man rear back in disgust. Which got him a hole in his head, as he moved out of cover for the second it took for Izzaela to fire.
The human she had grabbed, gurgling as she walked forward, holding him by the neck, his body shaking as he continued to take blaster fire for her. "I think a noble stature is only available for beings at least 5'6." She mused out loud with a teasing note to her voice. Stepping out from behind her expiring meat shield, firing two kill shots in quick succession while sliding under a table, her left hand now wielding her vibroknife, cutting through tendons, forcing two sentients to fall screaming. Quickly fixed as she stabbed them both on their way down, ending the noise.
"Was that a kriffing short joke Zaela?" Aliia roared in complaint, quickly jumping from table to table with force assisted leaps, her blade flashing in between, cutting throats and limbs. On two occasions men fired and hit each other as she jumped between them and away again. Quickly thrown daggers taking care to ensure the limbless quickly became lifeless too.
The smoke was starting to clear, so Izzaela picked up speed, firing non stop, while rolling across tables, sliding behind booths. And then flipping over the bar at one point to shoot the two men hiding behind it while she was upside down in the air, landing on a bar stool. Quickly stabbing the Trandoshan rushing her, in the arm reaching for her. As he hissed in pain, she pulled him in and got him in his left eye, quickly releasing him, making him smack his head on the bar counter splattering blood everywhere on his way down.
At this point there was a lot more crying and begging from the few remaining criminals then yells of threats.
"Technically I was making a tall joke, you're just too short to really appreciate it." She said, grabbing the glass of a blue sparkling drink with a little pink umbrella off the bar counter. Casually firing and killing the two men to her right who saw her through the smoke and started aiming her way. "Needs less blood," she critiqued, after taking a dainty sip. Quickly standing up and kicking the barstool so hard it completely knocked out the Rodian sneaking behind her. She put two shots in his head just for peace of mind. Hail the double tap, She thought amusedly.
"I don't even know why I missed you if you're going to be like that!" Aliia grumbled, swatting aside the pathetic punch thrown her way, slicing the man's torso up, her leg flashing out in a kick right up into the chin on the man trying to flank her, sending teeth clattering everywhere. Blaster fire rang out, Aliia jumping up and over toothless, letting him take the fire, the man falling over dead as she flicked one of her last remaining daggers into the face of the man firing, silencing him.
Izzaela laughed, sitting behind the bar on a liberated bar stool, casually picking off criminals whenever they would stick their heads out. Not many were left. "Of course you didn't miss me at all… That's why you were blubbering so hard when you woke up and found me sitting there!" She called out, watching the last two on her side attempt to rush her. Izzaela doesn't even try and get cute, just executes them with clinical headshots. If they were nice enough to make it easy for her then she would take it. Well, easier, it wasn't like they were struggling.
"By Talzin's cunt! I was not kriffing blubbering!" Aliia yelled out, beheading a panicky human hiding behind a booth, rolling her eyes at the two burly criminals desperately begging in whatever garbled language their species had, not any species she recognized either way.
She ended it with two quick cuts, looking around, not seeing anyone else. She scoffed, idly cleaning her blade on the bodies she just made. "You'd think they'd be putting up a little more effort, this is the seventh place we've hit since you woke up two days ago."
Izzaela put her feet up on the bar counter, picking up a bottle of something neon green, squinting at the label suspiciously. "Swoop gangs aren't generally known as criminal masterminds." She called out, opening the bottle and taking a sniff, rearing back in impressed disgust. "I'm pretty sure this spirit is illegal in at least half the galaxy."
Aliia trudged over, taking care to not step in blood, she didn't need to get any messier after all. "Oh yeah? What makes it illegal?" She asked, rearing back when she got within five feet. "Ugh, except the smell!?" She covered her nose with her arm, grossed out.
"One of the ingredients is Nemodian." Izzaela said, placing the bottle back on the shelf, it was interesting but certainly not something she'd ever drink.
Aliia wrinkled her nose, lowering her arm as the smell dissipated somewhat. "How does that make it illegal? Do Nemodians have some sort of embargo on the ingredients?"
Izzaela smirked, "No, Aliia… The ingredient is Nemodian, as in parts of a Nemodian was used to make it."
"We are not taking that back with us!" Aliia warned seriously, hopping over the bar, rooting around among the shelves for any non people parts booze she could take with her.
"Don't worry I'm sure it tastes as bad as it smells." She answered dryly.
"How is it only illegal in half the galaxy?" Aliia asked, "I mean it seems like the kind of thing that would be illegal everywhere."
Izzaela snorted, "Not much is illegal in Hutt space, then you have several other separate sectors that aren't part of the Republic where almost anything is legal if you have the credits. Then of course there's the Cato Neimoidia system…"
Aliia scrunched up her face in thought, "Hang on… Isn't that wrong? It's legal for the Nemoidians? That's sick! Their own species!?" She looked slightly green as she continued to search through bottles.
"Just as filthy of a species as the Hutts but with none of the backbone." Izzaela said, lifting a bottle of Ale to her mouth, guzzling it down.
"Can't believe these kind of people work for Hale, they're kind of… You know… Lame." Aliia said, moving away from the disgusting discussion, sniffing a bottle of something orange, humming in appreciation, placing the bottle in a rucksack.
"Not all of Hale's network can be crime bosses, the gangs and low lifes are useful courier's, expendable cannon fodder and above all. Cheap." Izzaela explained, tapping her feet on the bar counter, watching Aliia rob the place.
"Killing these losers isn't going to stop Hale for long." Aliia took a sip of a bottle of Corellian whiskey, gagging immediately, spitting out the liquid. Peering suspiciously at the bottle she exclaimed. "Kriffers! It says Corellian whiskey but tastes like the backside of a Hutt! No honestly anymore." She turned around and kicked the dead proprietor, "You deserved this." She hissed at the corpse while Izzaela watched in amusement.
"It's not supposed to stop him really." Izzaela admitted, "We're limiting his contacts on Nar Shaddaa specifically, the less people here he can count on, the less of a headache we'll have for a while."
"Guess we caught a lucky break that he doesn't really deal with the Hutt's except as a mediator between syndicates." Aliia sighed, jumping up on the bar counter, facing Izzaela, her legs dangling off the side.
"Vinci is bribing them to ignore our little crusade right now, but it can't go on forever, Hutts are damned expensive to bribe." Izzaela rubbed her temples, still suffering somewhat of a headache ever since waking up.
"So where to next?" Aliia replied with forced cheerfulness, "You've been working pretty hard… Maybe time for a break?" She wheedled carefully.
Izzaela was about to respond with a fervent denial of any rest, but her holo lit up showing an incoming call preventing her from it.
"Tell me good news, HK!" She ordered as soon as the droid came up on the holo.
"Careful statement: All targeted meatbags were eliminated, Master." HK reported, if photoreceptors could look shifty, she'd say she was looking at a pair right now…
Izzaela's eyes narrowed, "Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something…"
Aliia scoffed, "The tin can messed up, go figure." Smirking at the holo representation of the assassin droid.
Annoyed addition: "Although all targets were killed, Master… One escaped for a short period, and was taken care of in the end. I did not mess up, all targets were eliminated!"
"What aren't you telling me, HK?" Izzaela said sweetly, a dangerous tone to her voice.
Grudging admition: " The target tried to hide in an orphanage and there were some collateral damage." The droid admitted.
"Really? That's a surprise," Izzaela pondered out loud, "Nar Shaddaa has orphanages. Huh, learn something new everyday."
"Why would he hide in an orphanage? You're a droid, why would he think you'd care?" Aliia asked curiously. Not that they cared overmuch either, but they at least might have held back in the face of a bunch of kids. HK-47 wouldn't.
Amused statement: "I do not possess the limited intelligence to assume why a meatbag does what a meatbag does. I simply end them."
"You two can chat it up when we're back, if you're done HK, see if you can find the boys discreetly and let them know what's going on. Emphasis on discreet. We can't be tied to Czerka yet." Izzaela ordered, eyes flicking to Aliia who gave her a cheesy thumbs up. Obviously happy at the possibility to get back into contact with the Zabraks.
Izzaela cancelled the holo call, standing up, stretching languidly. "Let's go, we'll hit another place and call it quits for today."
"Drinks are on me after!" Aliia cheered, winking at her as she showed off her rucksack, filled with stolen booze.
Izzaela smirked, "Not happening, you are a terribly sappy drunk."
"Oh come on! One time!" Aliia complained as they walked out of the bar, leaving a graveyard behind. People of this part of Nar Shaddaa are slowly starting to learn to not mess with them.
If Izzaela didn't already have a plan Aliia would have worried. This kind of thing was unsustainable after all. Eventually the Hutts would throw their weight around.
They'd have to finish before that happened.
Red light sector, Nar Shaddaa.
4 hours later, lower level 17.
"I can't believe we didn't think of this before… I am sooooo mad at myself right now." Aliia grumbled, tapping her foot on the warehouse floor. Arms crossed as she watched over the line of two dozen sentients chained together.
HK-47 finished bolting the attachments to the chain in place. Ensuring there would be no escaping this. The droid moving to the far wall, blaster rifle switched to stun. He'd no doubt need it to pacify the prisoners soon enough.
"Why not just have HK-47 stun them now? They're going to panic, you know." Aliia said quietly to Izzaela.
Izzaela gave her a half smile, "The more their minds are in turmoil, the better. Will make him work for it more." She eyed the sentients quivering in front of her. A good mix. Human, Twi'lek and Rodian. She'd start with humans and those as close to humanoid as possible. Then if it wasn't progressing, she'd throw in a Trandoshan or Wookie or something even more exotic to see if difficulty would ease the route to progress.
She closed her eyes, and felt that thin dark wisp of a connection in the back of her mind, and she tugged on it. Opening her eyes when the prisoners screamed in fright. Stannis the shadow demon floating in the air in front of her, golden eyes watching her. A blaster shot rang out, the demon going intangible before it hit, one of the prisoners slumping down dead. She turned an irritated look on Aliia.
She was wholly unrepentant, "I had to give it a shot, I still won't forgive it…" She said, fingering her blaster.
"Don't interfere again today, if we can't get this moving along I'll have to go back to doing it myself…" She warned, irritated, but also somewhat amused at the protectiveness.
Aliia sighed, and put the blaster away, pouting slightly. "I know, I'll be good. I'll go back to trying to kill it tomorrow."
Izzaela walked up to one of the whimpering humans. A male in his forties, obvious addict. Probably weak minded. A good place as any to start.
She turned to her demon, "Use this man," She gestured to the now sobbing man. "Try and limit the information you dump into him. Just an hour's worth."
She stepped back as Stannis floated down, holding the man's face between his hands. It would not get done today, not even the two dozen people she had here would suffice to get the demon down to being able to share only an hour's worth. She was fairly confident in that, having suffered a week's worth of slow, extremely small incremental improvements.
"This is still super creepy to watch." Aliia stated bluntly.
Izzaela smirked, "Be glad I'm not using you to test this out." She teased, both of them knew there wasn't any chance of that.
When the man started to shake, letting loose short high pitched shrieks, blood running out of his ears and nose, the other prisoners all started screaming as well. Begging for their lives. Offering bribes and their bodies or anything they had.
Izzaela simply tsked, "Seriously, not even five minutes in and his brain is bleeding out. I had expected more…"
"Remind me again why you thought it was a good idea to have that thing in your head." Aliia replied testily, "You're obviously stronger mentally than a spice addict, but really…"
"Everything worked out okay, but this once… I'll agree that perhaps I should have waited and figured something out first." Izzaela admitted, wincing slightly at the flood of blood flowing out from the man, his corpse dropping down suddenly and smacking into the ground, as if a puppet who's string got cut. Stannis releasing him, turning to look at her. Looking as aggravated as a shade with no features other than eyes could.
"So you'll listen to me the next time I tell you not to put weird stuff in your brain?" Aliia said hopefully. Playing with her daggers as a Rodian female curled up into a ball, as much as she could with the chains, as Stannis approached her next.
"Of course not." Izzaela said without missing a beat. "If I let you decide things you'd lock me in a vault to protect me from some mosquitoes.
"They carry diseases, you know." Aliia answered petulantly, not able to argue against that. Very much not a fan of Izzaela getting almost killed, she would love to hide her away somewhere from all the dangerous stuff.
"Oh, for the love of-" Izzaela shot the Rodian, putting her out of her misery. "A fully healthy female and she didn't even last three minutes, are you even trying, Stannis?" She barked out.
Observation: "Master, at the current rate you will not have enough meatbags for the evening." HK-47 piped in. Eager offer: "I could procure you more, Master?"
"No, just no. We planned for this, we're not deviating and risking leading someone here." Izzaela said, disappointed with the showing so far.
Aliia shrugged, "We know for next time, and I think you massively understated how long it would take for that thing to improve."
Stannis had stopped moving after the latest failure, hanging despondently in the air, looking like a kicked puppy. If the puppy was a soul abomination. Izzaela waved him onto the next victim with a stern look, before answering Aliia. "I am starting to think so too. Which is unfortunate as he would be a great tool right now."
"You're not putting him in your head again." Aliia put her foot down, staring mulishly at her best friend. "I veto it. Veto!"
Izzaela smirked, "You don't have a veto, this isn't a debate." She rolled her shoulders, "Although yes, I agree, it's not worth it right now."
Screaming started again. Izzaela and Aliia both sighed in unison. This would get annoying fast, not to mention annoyingly labor intensive if they had to keep kidnapping homeless people and low level criminals for days on end.
The ability to have an invisible spy that could spy on anyone on the planet was too useful to not use.
Cue another body dropping to the floor.
If only the damn thing could be a little more efficient…
Czerka Labs
Industrial sector, Nar Shaddaa.
"So what are you doing to him?" Brutus asked quietly, with fake curiosity. Hiding his revulsion. Standing by the bed where a Klantoonian 'patient' is being injected with a brown sludge-like mixture. The man was covered in injuries, most still open and bleeding. None of the doctor's present made any move to do anything about them.
The head scientist, a Sullustan going by Dotho, answered absentmindedly as he fiddled with dials, speeding up the infusion, drawing a broken scream from the Klantoonian. "Oh we're trying different mixtures and chemical combinations with spice, trying to find useful applications."
"Useful in what way? They don't seem very useful?" Brutus' gaze swept across the medical hall and all the dying and screaming test subjects.
"Oh, many different ways!" Dotho answered more cheerfully. "We're trying with one strain to affect the muscles of sentients, breaking them down and rebuilding them to a soldier's level. Another strain is exploring altering the chemicals of the brain, removing the empathetic parts." The Sullustan kept going, luckily not paying attention to Brutus' small frown as the Klantoonian started screaming at the top of his lungs.
One of the doctor's rolled his eyes and instructed a nearby medical droid to put a muzzle on the subject. Dotho continuing undaunted. "Spice is actually fascinatingly able to adapt to multiple strains and takes such an immediate hold of the brain chemistry of sentients. It's a perfect vehicle, really."
"So you're trying to make better soldiers?" Brutus asked, not quite following everything but understanding the gist of it.
Dotho scoffed irritably, "Well, that is what the corporation wants, we could find out so much more though… Like the strain in this subject, a test to see if it would enhance regeneration of tissue."
Brutus doesn't see anything different with the Klantoonian from before, except his flailing and screaming.
Dotho noticed and looked annoyed, "Well, it's at the beginning trials, obviously not everytime is a good result."
Considering Brutus was part of the security that regularly brought the corpses down to the incinerator, he'd say that was an understatement. So far he was seeing three dozen corpses leave the room for every patient that seemed a success.
"Well, this one was useless, " Dotho decided, throwing his arms in the air. The Sullustan stalking off muttering under his breath, writing furiously on a piece of flimsi.
The doctors turned off the injection machine, unhooking the Klantoonian from the wires and tubes. The man let out a rattling breath of relief. The doctors moved along to the next subject as Brutus sighed, reaching down and unsheathing his blaster pistol.
The Klantoonian looked at him with such relief when he pulled the trigger. It's what freaked him out the most about this place. The way everyone here wanted more then anything to just die.
Brutus walked off, following the doctors to the next subject. Dotho was gone somewhere, probably rehashing his theories and calculations. Brutus wasn't on incinerator duty today, so he'd wait to do the same mercy kill again after the next subject failed to show any promising signs.
This continued for hours before he finally ended his day. It was just a short trip to get home to their little ratty apartment. And he wasted not a moment after walking in, tearing off and throwing his Czerka armor to the floor, continuing to their small kitchen to grab anything alcoholic.
"Fun day at work?" Laaran drawled sarcastically, slumped on the couch with several bottles of beer strewn around him.
Brutus grabbed his own, just holding the cool bottle against his forehead, eyes closed, trying to prevent the headache from thinking too much all day. "Where is Zavath?" He asked, once he felt cooled off enough.
Laaran sneered, "He offered to assist the dock team on transportation, figured there might be something interesting to learn there." The Zabrak looked unusually grumpy, even for him.
"What did you fuck up?" Brutus growled, opening the beer, taking a large gulp to soothe himself before whatever idiocy he was bound to hear about now.
Laaran looked away, grumbling something under his breath.
"Speak up, don't make me come over there…" Brutus threatened unenthusiastically. He really didn't want to move right now, he dealt with enough crap at work. Yet he knew Laaran needed to be watched, the younger Zabrak having a temper and delusions of freedom.
"I got asked out on a date, alright!" Laaran snarled, refusing to look at Brutus. Hands idly playing with an empty beer bottle.
Who the kriff would want to date you? Is what Brutus wanted to say, but he didn't have the energy to fight and beat the other man down today. "And?" He asked impatiently.
"Don't you get it? Man, I am getting a life here, I get paid, I get to kill some bastards and now a cute girl…" Laaran muttered, eyes meeting Brutus for a second, before shifting away.
"You date this girl, you're going to end up having to kill her." Brutus told him bluntly.
He slumped into the couch, "Zavath already told me the same."
"So why are you still whining about it?"
"I just want to be able to do whatever," He mumbled, violently tossing a beer bottle into the opposite wall suddenly, smashing it. "Do whatever I want!" He snarled.
"Not this again, what the kriff is your problem, you want to die, huh? Is that it?" Brutus roared, smashing his half full beer bottle on the table, soaking the whining Zabrak in the process. "We either follow or we die! What's so hard to get with that!"
Laaran scoffed, wiping beer off his face. "I ain't gotta like it." He replied angrily.
"You don't have to like it, you have to shut up about it, before me or Zavath kill you ourselves." Brutus threatened, fed up with this useless whining. "Man up, or don't. Stop kriffing whining about it."
He walked off into the bedroom, leaving a sullen Laaran behind. Brutus fuming at the stupidity of the younger Zabrak, not being able to see how their best opportunity was with their mistress. Not with Czerka, or by themselves.
Czerka having turned out to be even more monstrous than their mistress…
Czerka was supposed to be a legal galactic corporation. Brutus wondered who was kidding who on what part of the galaxy was worse. The criminal underworld or the corporate world.
He really hoped he wouldn't have to do this for much longer. Give him a fight anytime, this. This Czerka Bantha shit was just sick.
Drip….drip….
The drops of greenish water fell slowly to the rippling 'ground'. Arrested in the air as if time moved at a different spectrum. Cracked stone walls all around her, wicked sickly looking vines covering them, constantly digging into the stone. The sound of cracking shards falling down joining the sound of dripping water as she walked. All she could ever do was walk. Even when she couldn't she still walked. Even when she felt like every nerve was burning, yet she walked.
Her bare feet not feeling anything as she stumbled down the endless corridor, walking on cool rippling water, flashes of images, locations… memories. All flashing by incomprehensibly to the girl. She'd learned not to waste time trying to make sense of it. Her existence was madness without seeking more pain to layer on top of it. She no longer wasted time wondering. She knew what came next. Pain. It was always pain next.
Wherever she walked, the stone walls would crack, the water would screech as pieces fell down. The vines that fell off, burning up in green flames as they touched the surface of the water. Yet no matter how much destruction followed her, there was never an end to the corridor. Never an escape.
She didn't dare touch anything anymore, each time she did, pain would come. Her head would feel like it was splitting in two. Like fire was burning her inside out. So she kept to the middle of the never ending corridor. Walking as she didn't have anything better to do. Knowing if she stopped, pain would find her faster. Walking at least gave her a choice.
She wished she could remember anything. All she knew was this corridor and pain. All that existed was pain. And walking. There was lots of walking.
She continued, stumbling forward. Sudden exhaustion hitting her. The harder she thought, the harder things became. The path feeling heavy. The water rippled between memories so fast it was more like blinding flashes.
She winced as she saw one of the locked entrances ahead in the side of the corridor's walls. She hated it when they came around. A scream coming out of her abused and raw throat as she walked past it. The giant red steel door, barred by over a dozen locks and two giant monoliths placed against it to keep it locked. Yet it still pulsed angrily, red light shining out. She could feel hate and anger emanating. So strong it was escaping all that kept it in. Runes would flash periodically as whatever was inside battered at the defences.
The girl cried as she dragged herself slowly forward. The pain from the red light was excruciating. She didn't know what she was doing here, why she was here. Who she was. What she had done to deserve this endless walk. Yet every time she walked past a door the questions would reappear, who was she, why was she here.
She held her chest as the doorway was left behind. Her heart was beating so fast. She heard a crack. Whirling around she gaped as one of the monoliths developed a crack running through it. No, that can't be, in all her walking. In all the walks she had gone past the door of hatred. It had never developed a crack. Only the walls suffered that. New things couldn't possibly be good.
She stumbled back. Staring in shock as she suddenly was before the other door. What was this? They were never this close together. She just left a door. This was wrong. No, why? Wasn't she suffering enough?
The white steel door shined with green light. Locked as the other door, it also sported a crack spreading up one of the monoliths. She couldn't be here, no. Not this soon. Not right after the other door. She stared up at the door in fear, backing up slowly, silently begging. No, please no.
She screamed as love seeped into her pores. Care, happiness, empathy. It hurt. Why was she being punished like this? She didn't understand this, love was incomprehensible to the girl. Two doors in one day. She desperately tried to move forward down the corridor. Escape this aberration in her endless routine.
It felt like it took days, but she managed to drag herself away. The doors held too much emotion, too many feelings. She didn't know what she was, but she knew they hurt! The water rippled faster as she shambled away as fast as she could. The corridors walls cracking faster, more pieces disturbing the water.
"No." She spoke in terror. Then grasped her throat in shock. She had never been able to speak before, only scream. The door coming up in her vision made her ignore any thoughts about why that was. She was back before the red door. She let out a sob.
Unnoticed in her terror and pain. The water beneath her had slowed enough, actual memories played through, visible for the first time. The girls screams echoing around the corridor as memories played.
A young girl sneaking through a jungle, her older sister shushing her with a motion, pointing to the small beast they were hunting who had lifted its head, looking around warily.
A ripple spreading…Drip….Drip….
Two young girls tousling on the floor of a small hut, tickling each other. Laughing, both ignoring the drabness of their home, the lack of food, their hunger. Just playing. Fighting back the spread of darkness with laughter.
Ripples spread…Drip….Drip….Drip….
Small kisses shared, hugs of comfort. Two girls holding hands, gripping them so hard their blood mixed. Fear being beaten back by a shared bond. Darkness always around them, swirling, whispering. Love slowly holding it at bay.
Violent ripples spread. The girl screamed as the doors violently rattled. The locks strained…Drip…Drip…Drip…!
A girl standing alone. Eyes desperate. Heart breaking. Reaching into the darkness. Using it, making it hers. Seeping it into her mind. Using it to protect. The darkness rebelling, not agreeing to be used for that purpose. Green light shining out of the girl's eyes as she fights with everything she has. Finally ripping apart a part of herself, giving it to the darkness. Tribute. Protect! She ordered. Begged.
Drip….Drip...Drip... Drip….
The girl kneeled, feeling like she was being ripped apart. She could do nothing as the pain intensified. The doors were still holding, emotions, memories, part of a soul. All straining to get out.
Drip……….Drip……….
Izzaela paused as she walked down the road, touching a finger to her temple. She'd felt something odd. Like she was screaming, but inside her head. For a second it had echoed through her mind. Pain spreading out before being silenced.
The next moment it was gone and she put it out of her mind and continued on her way. Her mind was well protected, it was nothing to worry about. Just tiredness from the last battle.
Landing pad,
Corellian sector, Nar Shaddaa
He grimaced as he set foot on the criminal moon of Nar Shaddaa, he could taste the depravity in the air. The whole place felt like a cesspool in the force. The constant feelings of despair and pain overshadowing everything else.
"Master, the force cries out in this place." The Padawan said softly, wincing at the strong feelings she was receiving. She calmed herself, letting them flow through her, and then releasing them back into the force. She could still feel it in the background, but it was more muted, more manageable. The teenager let out a relieved breath.
"Ideally we wouldn't step foot on this moon, the anonymous tip about two Nightsisters needs to be investigated and we were close enough. Can you tell me why, Padawan?" The Jedi Knight said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Sending calming thoughts through their bond.
"They're supposed to be quarantined on Dathomir, right?" The Padawan said after a moment of thought. She closed her eyes searching her memories, "The witches of Dathomir?"
"Mostly correct." The Jedi Knight said with a small smile, walking forward, his Padawan coming up alongside him. "The reason we are here is to find out how exactly they escaped their confinement, and to bring them in. We need to find out if this was part of a plan from the witches of Dathomir or an isolated incident." He explained patiently.
"And we were the closest." The Padawan said with a quick nod of her head.
"That and it's become sort of my specialty to investigate the criminal underworld." Quinlan Vos, Jedi Knight of the Jedi order said with a wry grin.
"Don't you mean our specialty, Master?" Aayla Secura, Twi'lek Padawan of the Jedi order, responded cheekily.
"I suppose you haven't turned out half bad at it." The Kiffar Jedi teased back. His senses stretched out, it shouldn't be too hard to find their quarry, darksiders were usually very unsubtle. Murder, torture, limbs all over the place, shouldn't be too difficult.
They'd solve this little mystery, and plug whatever security breach allowed them to escape Dathomir, if the tip was even true. The whole thing seemed a bit fanciful. Hopefully they could do it all without running into anything Hutt related.
Quinlan Vos had a good feeling about this mission.
Aiee, things are coming to a head on Nar Shaddaa. Just a few more chapters at the most to wrap this arc up.
And if anyone is wondering, although clone wars are years away. I have absolutely no problem with taking canon and absolutely ripping it to pieces.
Palpatine is safe in his position so to speak as that's a hard no on being able to really change that. Anything else is on the table, much could change in the future.
Anyone have any ideas of what kind of Canon destruction practices you'd find fun to see, throw it out there.
Be excellent to each other.