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Chapter 13: Unhinged

The remaining trek through the old ship was, in essence, a disturbing combination of stressful and boring; led by Arden and her keen sense of direction, the team of four moved ever more closely to the heart of the vessel where, if the builders of this place worked in any of the same ways modern sentient species did, they would find whatever made the whole place tic. As far as Harry was concerned, that was also bound to be the place where whatever was so closely mimicking the general feel of a horcrux had to be located. A few more droids accosted them along the way, though nothing they were unable to deal with, and it was only a few more minutes (as well as quite a few dead ends) later, when finally, the group stood before yet another door.

This one was a great bit different from any other they had seen up until that point, though; where before the doors had opened on their own, these ones stubbornly refused to do so. And if that particular oddity had not tipped them off this was what they were looking for, the intense aura of darkness emanating from behind the metal panels would certainly have done the trick all on its own. When even an unlocking charm proved to be unable to sway the stubborn piece of machinery, Harry and Arden eventually worked together to bring down the barrier with two powerful, well-placed blasting hexes.

What awaited them within the room, however, was far from what the young wizard had expected. To be fair, he was not exactly sure, what he had been expecting, yet it certainly was not this; it was a large, circular space, the corridor they had reached the door by continued in the form of a walkway, suspended a good five metres above the dark plating below. In the centre of the room, circled by the gallery the group was now standing on, floated an orb of energy, resplendent in its glorious light like a miniature sun, while emanating an almost palpable taint of what Obi-Wan would surely have called the Dark Side of the Force. In this case, Harry was not inclined to disagree. On second glance even more prominent, though, was what looked to be the holographic representation of a humanoid being.

That being, placed in front of what now obviously looked like the ship's power core, was of rather tall stature, definitely taller than a standard human, even though the eye level seemed to be around the same height; what really enhanced the height of it, though, was its unusually formed head: eyes protruding on both sides of their tall cranium, the smooth, grey skin stretching thinly over bone and cartilage, mouth drawn into what Harry instinctually understood to be a disdainful sneer, as far as this species was concerned. What was most captivating, though, was the look of pure, unadulterated madness in this ancient being's eyes, for no mere hologram was able to portray such insanity and loathing as could be seen in this baleful gaze. Unblinkingly, the being stared at the interlopers that it had seemingly brought aboard itself. And it was, when their gaze swept over his, that the young wizard noticed, what was happening.

Without forewarning, a mental attack like he had not felt since his encounters with Voldemort slammed into his mind, but where the self-declared dark lord had been terrible in his own right, this was so incredibly different. Where what he was used to felt like a knife doing its best to worm into his mind, precise and deadly, this attack was more like a swarm of angry wasps; not the same precision or outright deadliness, but there were so many little pinpricks, that he could soon feel his defences crumbling. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the intrusion ended.

"So, the slaves have returned to the Builders," the somehow both lifeless and very much alive figure observed with a certain amusement that somehow bordered on both smug and completely, round-the-bend, batshit crazy. "Yet so long… so long…"

A bout of demented laughter echoed across the room, as the group neared the miniature star and the crazed being standing before it.

"It was so long, the glory of the Builders so far in the past that, in your ignorance, you force me to use your primitive tongue," the hologram snarled, the former laughter but a mirage in the distance all of a sudden, as if a switch had been flicked. "Oh, but I will revive them, I will rule, yes I will… and you uppity apes will SERVE!"

By now, the general state of mind of whatever being was conserved in this abomination was indeed beginning to remind Harry of Voldemort in his crazier moments, with all the insanity the 'dark lord' had in in him ratcheted up more than just a few notches by the isolation this being must have endured over the years.

"This… whatever it is, it's completely unhinged," Arden declared over their helmet communicators, luckily having remembered to deactivate the external speakers; somehow, Harry had a feeling something so convinced of its own superiority might not have reacted well to her estimation, accurate though that estimation seemed to be. "I have no interest in listening any long…"

"Wait," Leia interrupted, taking a step forward so she stood in front of the others, closest to the weird, living construct that had obviously spent way too much time completely alone. "Let me see if I can't find out a bit more… just be ready to destroy this thing."

Her part being said, and without waiting for confirmation, the princess took another step forward and addressed the figure, still staring at them with that deranged grin. "We have come seeking the glory of the Builders," she said deferentially, a tone Harry knew she would, never ever in her life, adopt in sincerity. Luckily, whether it was hubris or a lack of contact with living beings, the preserved consciousness or AI or whatever it was seemed to just go with it easily; maybe it was simply used to people being deferential, bending over backwards to appease their 'masters'. "Please, I humbly ask, would you kindly share what happened to your glorious reign?"

As the construct went into a rather disjointed retelling of ungrateful slaves and some kind of 'Great Calamity', obviously distracted by the opportunity to communicate with, and maybe lord over another living being, the wizard used the opportunity to take in the whole room to a more detailed degree; the obvious power source, that being the small 'star' in the centre, would probably have to be treated with great care, as messing with something of that magnitude of power (he was assuming, obviously) sounded like a supremely bad idea. As for their adversary, for that was what this deranged being most certainly was with its talk of slaves and 'uppity apes', it was hovering, for lack of a better word, above a small crystal of deep black held in three delicate 'fingers' of silver metal. Nothing else touched it and no cables or anything the like seemed to protrude from it. And the cold that thing emanated… Harry shook a little, his body's involuntary reaction to the biting sensation he felt deep in his very soul.

"Blasting hex against that crystal on three," he told the others, for some reason whispering, even though, if the maddened Builder could listen into their helmet comms, that was a patently pointless exercise and if it could not, he might as well have screamed the words without the deranged being becoming any the wiser.

"1… 2… 3…"

Suddenly, many things happened simultaneously; while Leia jumped out of the way (smart woman with great survival instincts that she was), Harry and Arden both blasted the accursed magical/Force/whatever construct with the strongest blasting hexes they could muster. Even Jane, somewhat outmatched in just about any confrontation that required powers like the three others had, added to the general destruction by letting loose a hail of blaster bolts aimed at the group of droids that had, unbeknownst to at least the captain, entered the large reactor room.

And at first, things looked to be going well: the crystal shattered, or at least fractured and the droids seemed to be deactivating. Even the weird hologram-like representation of, Merlin, he would just think of it as a horcrux (making things considerably easier) seemed to flicker, and when it came back on, which was a bad sign all by itself, it seemed… wounded. Yet, the figure was also rapidly repairing itself, just as the steady draw of energy Harry had been feeling the moment, they came even remotely close to the derelict became a wide stream.

With a scream of rage, a bellow of 'TRAITORS!' the mental attack from earlier returned only this time, it was ten times worse, knocking each and every one of them to the ground in moaning heaps. The pain reminded the young wizard once again of Voldemort, how the twisted remains of a human had tried possessing him back in the Ministry so long ago… just like back then, he now began thinking of those he cared about, those he loved and who loved him, albeit in very different ways; Arden, Mercer, Jane and of course, Leia. Both their cries of pain and the image in his mind of all the smiles and laughter they had shared gave him the strength of will to push through the domineering influence this ancient evil held on his mind.

All of his being was centred around this simple action, as he began pulling himself up on his staff to face the crazed horcrux, who now seemed to look at him in some twisted form of respect. "Oh, the slaves learned some new tricks," it laughed manically. "When I break you, I will allow you to be my force hound; you will deliver new worlds to me for the glory of the Eternal Empire…"

"Oh, shut up," Harry interrupted the mad ramblings of this ancient, living machine. "Now, I really didn't want to do this, but here goes."

One last time, he pulled together all his determination, drew on the knowledge he had gained during his first year after leaving behind his old life when he had gotten curious and studied the misadventures of some more disreputable members of his ancestry.

"Flamma Finstar!" he bellowed, tightly reining in the amount of power he fed into the spell. Still, the appearance of the cursed flames that characterised fiendfyre was heralded by a menacing roar, and soon, a poisonous snake, akin in form to Harry's faithful companion from Dathomir burst from his staff and enveloped the quickly regenerating crystal that held the last vestiges of what must once have been a force of tremendous power; now, though, that force was reduced to the shrieking sliver of a living being that lived within the disintegrating crystal as it was crushed by the fiery snake's destructive embrace.

All around them, suddenly separated from the ancient consciousness' control, ship systems were beginning to fail: the first to go were the lights, quickly followed by the rumble coming from the engines cutting out, then the artificial gravity failing. As his boots lost contact with the ground, Harry only just managed to keep control of the dark fire, possessed as it was by a hunger great and terrible enough to completely consume the entire vessel, had the wizard not been keeping a tight lid on its power. With that careful restriction, however, despite how much effort it was costing the young man, the flames remained where they were, slowly beginning to simmer down as they ran out of fuel.

"That was some dark magic there, Boss!" Arden exclaimed into the emptiness, once the last remnants of the Fiendfyre had vanished, bathing the room in an inky black darkness that not even the night vision equipment on their helmets could pierce. Truly, he was not sure whether the Dathomirian was talking about the crazed lifeform or the spell that had finally gotten rid of it; the observation could easily apply to both.

"Well, yeah, that was the only thing I was sure would work against… whatever that exactly was," Harry bit out past his laboured breath, hunched over and supporting himself with his arms on his thighs. Only once before had he dared casting the Fiendfyre curse, on one of his longer treks back on Dathomir, a good kilometre into the desert. Nothing easily burnable had been around for dozens of paces and only the ground had suffered when he lost control for a mere second, with a nice little crater formed from glass the only lasting damage. Not that the Fiendfyre would not have liked to feast even on the sand but keeping it under a tight lid was still much easier, when there was no readily flammable wood around.

"Any idea how we're going to bring this entire thing back online?" Arden questioned everyone, though she seemed to be glancing mostly at the wizard, winded as he might be. "The ship seems to have lost all power, even that weird… mini-star went out. I'd assume that would cut power to life support as well… And we're floating."

The group had indeed lost their footing and were now weightlessly hanging over the metallic walkway. "Great…"

"Lighten up," Harry joked, finally having regained his breath after the exertion of not only casting but controlling the Fiendfyre. "Where I come from, experiencing this was so incredibly, exceedingly rare you had to be part of some government program to have a chance. It's not like we're going to run out of air anytime soon with only the four of us on such a huge ship."

Immediately after saying that, the captain winced, the subtle application of force enough to start moving him at a miniscule pace. Yet, despite his catastrophic bout of challenging his own sometimes incredibly fickle fate, there seemed to be no hull breach, no air escaping through some unshielded hangar or unsealed bulkhead. A slight 'clonk' echoed through his helmet as Arden, having floated over from her previous spot, gave his armour a slight tap on the back of the head. Obviously, under the strong layer of plastoid it did not make much of an impact beyond propelling both of them in opposite directions, but it was the thought that counted.

"Still doesn't answer my question," the witch, now silently drifting away, said into her comms. "How do we get this thing to fly, again? Seems dead in space, right now."

Unfortunately, that was a question none of the others really had an answer to.

OOOOOOOO

"Watch Officer, this is Midnight Three, do you copy?" The voice of one of the formerly idle TIE pilots that were now flying patrol and scouting missions when they were on duty reached the ears of a young lieutenant who had been charged with controlling airspace around the Sanctuary base.

"Base copies, Midnight Three; what is the matter?" came the quick reply, all vigilantly observed by a group of cadets and recruits that had expressed interest in learning the ins-and-outs of manning a control station. Their wish had suited Mercer just fine, given that most of those who had been willing to defect were of the lower ranks, making their staffing levels only just about acceptable. Even that was only true as long as their small asteroid outpost stayed as fairly quiet as it had been the past few weeks. With traffic already picking up, though still mostly light freighters owned by independent pilots, he did not think that would last.

"We have found something here that must have been overlooked during the initial survey, some sort of cave system…" Midnight Three announced, clearly struggling for words to describe his find. "We're not equipped to explore underground, but it looks interesting enough."

"Noted, Midnight Three," the watch officer replied. "Drop a beacon, then resume your patrol. We'll send someone out."

All of a sudden, a new contact, flagged as one of the sensor beacons that had been strapped to each of the TIEs now scouting the planet, appeared on the large hologlobe in the centre of the command area.

"Beacon dropped, Midnight Three and Four resuming patrol, over."

"Acknowledged, Midnight Three; Base out."

The officer's students, for lack of a better word, seemed glued to his every word, for some reason; though Mercer struggled to understand the fascination with simple comms procedure, it was probably a good thing for them to be thusly inclined if they actually wanted to man a traffic control station after the few short weeks, they probably only had to train them up.

"Sir, should I send out the survey team?" he was interrupted in his musings by the young officer manning the control station.

"Yes, please do that," the deserter replied calmly, before quickly adding, "This is our first foray underground on this world; send them an armed escort and a probe droid to go in before anyone else. Who knows what might be down there?"

After a small moment of thought, he tapped his comms bracelet and said, "Corsek, can you please join the team gathering by the juggernaut? We found a system of caves and don't really know what might be inside."

An acknowledgement of his order still in his ears, Mercer moved over to the only other station that was currently manned by an organic being and not a computer or droid, the one dedicated to all manner of communication; whereas the other one was 'merely' intended to direct and oversee ships in their immediate vicinity, that being anything as close as and closer than Sanctuary's orbit, this one was meant to gather any information on anyone and anything as far as their sensors could reach into space. Occasionally, they would even answer an overheard call, if it was prudent to do so. Only the day before last, they had intercepted a distress call from a small-time independent captain (at least that was what he had called himself, which everyone understood to be a smuggler), stranded in deep space after an 'accident' that somehow had managed to leave laser marks on his CEC freighter. For a very reasonable fee, the man had been towed to the asteroid base where he had then paid for repairs to be made on his ship, and the very reasonable towing fee, of course.

Obviously, most of the time, the job was neither interesting nor glamorous, which meant that anyone manning that station had been given the right to bring something to read, lest they fall asleep on the job. Better a slightly distracted operator, he had reasoned, than a sleeping one.

"Anything we should be concerned about?" Mercer questioned the young woman currently working the listening and comms station.

"There is a rather large Imperial convoy moving along the Perlemian, form the looks of it; nothing unusual, as far as I can tell from the few transmissions, I was able to pick up," the perky, always well-mannered yet energetic woman replied. The older deserter still wondered how she had ended up in the Navy.

"Simple 'No' would've sufficed," Mercer joked light-heartedly. "There's always an Imperial convoy moving along the Perlemian."

"You asked, I answered," the officer snarked back, though her voice was completely lacking any malice. "Just a few frigates and a light cruiser escorting a few bulk transports toward the Outer Rim. Seems to be the only direction these are flying, anymore."

Mercer chuckled darkly. "Not surprising; the Outer Rim was always like a wild rancor just barely restrained by a rusty chain," he replied, remembering his own brief service on the fringes of Imperial space. "Destroying the Death Star broke that chain. Not even the Empire has the firepower and numbers to keep millions of trillions of people on millions of planets cowed, especially if many of those planets are only just charted and no one really knows, who lives where. It's not like they noticed us out here, and we're comfortably lodged in the Mid Rim along one of the most important trade routes. Try and have it relayed to the Alliance, short burst transmission, only comms buoys, like we did with the last twenty."

With a shrug, the young woman nodded and returned to her book, while Mercer slowly ambled his way back toward the much more interesting local control station, which was now tracking a new contact clearly marked as one of their own ground vehicles that could only be the old Clone Wars juggernaut the survey team had been sent out in.

Yes, that definitely seemed much more interesting than watching yet another military convoy barrel past, heading rimwards.

OOOOOOOO

Despite the bumpy ride, Corsek Betsby was calmly, nay stoically staring out the small window in the juggernaut's cockpit. Well, one of the cockpits, as the older tank model actually had two of them due to its absolutely abysmal turning radius. Obviously, that raised the question which side of the large tank was the front, and which was the back; both could be argued, from a geometry standpoint and as it regarded to weapons.

Anyway, he was looking out of the window of the cockpit that was currently the one facing forward, meaning the direction in which they were driving.

Despite the vehicle's broad tires and its ten independently, as well as expertly, controlled wheels, the rocky terrain separating the base from the cave system made for rough passage, shaking all the occupants to their very cores. And despite being the commanding officer on this mission, Corsek felt his drive to not let his people see him succumb to the simple demands of his body slowly fail. When, eventually, his stubbornness had been reduced to rubble, as rigid things were wont to do when confronted with persistent forces, he simply sat down in the commander's chair placed directly behind the seats of the pilots.

"Melvin, what's our ETA?" he asked the main pilot, the only person actually doing anything really productive as of that moment, despite the entire row of seats making it clear that, at one point, this vehicle had required more than the one pilot for each cockpit that was now necessary.

"If nothing unforeseen happens… Three hours, twenty minutes," the former Army vehicle pilot answered. "We'll arrive just before dusk."

"Alright, thank you Melvin," Corsek replied, even as he was already getting back up again. From the cockpit he went through the short 'neck', for a lack of a better word (though it was nowhere close to as obvious a weak spot as on those AT-ATs), and into the crew compartment where the members of his 30-person strong team were passing their time. Some were exchanging stories, some seemed to be playing sabacc or some other card game, crowded around a table. The more scientifically minded members were still poring over the limited analysis data the scouting party had sent, while a mechanic was looking over the probe droids they had been ordered to send inside before any of them went down.

"Listen everyone," the Army deserter called for their attention; almost immediately, all eyes were on him, reminding him that everyone else was just as tired of waiting as he himself was. "ETA is 2000 hours, just before sunset; combat personnel will set up a perimeter, then non-combat personnel can come out. I want a sensor grid, 50 steps out; lights with motion sensors. Tevo and Grindal, Gur and Sestac, Morquen and Valduz, you're on watch for the night, two each shift. Make it out among yourselves who gets which shift. Tomorrow, we go exploring."

OOOOOOOO

AN: For anyone wondering, Flamma Finstar is Old High German and the words mean dark and flame; not surprising, is it? Small caveat: I simply looked up the words in a dictionary, so the grammar is not necessarily all that sound, though has that ever stopped a spell before?

Also, it's rightly been pointed out I might have been overdoing it with the cliffhangers. Well, at least this time, it means the solution of said cliffhanger is posted the next day. Or maybe it is the fact that I have already started writing the third instalment; who knows really?

Greetings,
alexandertheII