A hushed gloom fell over the ship the last two days of their journey as if time itself held its breath in expectation of something unnamed and just out of reach.
Silence settled at the core of the vessel whose durasteel skin popped and crackled over a frame that creaked and groaned like a ghost too long from its crypt. Late at night, Ky roamed the corridors with old habits, old memories, old fears haunting her steps, cruelly poking at her doubts. The Nulastine Drift. Only idiots entered there.
She'd crossed the cusp of rationality so many times, of late, she no longer recognized the warning lines of demarcation. What little peace accorded to her was when she lay curled in the nest of Corso's arms, like a fledgling who'd learned how to fall while trying to fly.
Scourge remained in his room exiting only to eat the modicum he required for sustenance. She and Corso performed checks on the sublight drive, shield generators, maneuvering thrusters and the parts of the hyperdrive they could access while it was engaged. He fretted over the transpacitor casing, but they were a long way from any safe place to do repairs even if they had the parts. It would either fail or not. In space so much was reduced to the simplicity of yes or no, black or white, while the ambiguous comfort of maybe or gray was reserved for the landlocked.
They all converged in the cockpit in response to the fifteen-minute warning chime notifying them that they'd be exiting hyperspace. Corso sat in the pilot's seat, and she and Scourge swayed on their feet when the ship dropped out a couple hundred thousand kilometers from the edge of the Drift. The light of a distant sun reflected off the uncountable asteroids drifting, colliding, careening around some core of gravity that held them in a permanent ball formation engulfing nearly a quarter of an entire sector. Perhaps formed from some nebula gone wrong or a solar system devastated by its sun going supernova no one would ever know, the sheer mass of what lay before them was overwhelming.
Spacer's ships and entire fleets had become lost or been destroyed in the Nulastine. The promise of treasure or some secret society of mystics living on a world at the center and even the vague tale of a powerful weapon had lured many to their deaths. Travel to the Nulastine Drift had been discouraged or outright banned by most civilized worlds, and even the Jedi and Sith ceased expending their people and resources on a fool's errand.
"You see this?" asked Corso when the long distance proximity alert began to beep.
"I do," answered Ky. "That's not the one from back at Orinda, this is a Terminus Class. I wonder how long it's been here. I'd say it's either on patrol or someone has one hell of a head start. And it's heading our way."
"I know, get my sweet ass out of your seat," said Corso as he hoisted himself to his feet and Ky slid into the now vacant pilot's chair.
"Got it in one, babe. You guys might want to sit down and strap in," she barked as she buckled her harness, engaged the shields and sublight drive.
Whatever protests Scourge or Corso uttered were swallowed in background noise as her mind sped up, neurons firing rapidly and in unison until single thoughts merged into one incessant lightning strike behind her eyes. The universe slowed to a crawl, space and time became irrelevant as she honed in on the morass of spinning rock, and flew into the Drift.
Individual asteroids froze in place as her brain instantaneously resolved the n-body problem and made nearly impossible calculations of their velocity and trajectory. She unerringly alternated between sublight, maneuvering thrusters, and boosters to thread their course through the maze, often skimming perilously close to bodies large enough to cast their own gravitational forces into the mix.
Oblivious to all else, she didn't feel the harness tug and chafe with each jink, roll, and pitch or the thin line of blood trickling over her upper lip as she sighted further and further into the maw of jagged, stony teeth.
She was alone, a single point of energy merged with the ship, skipping forward, one stone at a time, feeling the radiation settle and each minute fragment of debris ricochet off the shield. Her fingers flew over the nav computer keyboard in a blur, the short jump computation already made before entering the data. Current position, light year distance reduced to kilometers, gravitational flux from the point of destination, and gyrating objects between here and there.
Corso and Scourge gasped and held their breath as her palm found the jump lever, fingers closing, white-knuckled around the metallic T. She hesitated for an imperceptible fraction of a second and slammed it forward. Streaks of light barely had time to illuminate across the windshield before they winked out and the ship emerged into the blackness, the asteroid field left behind.
The dim light assaulted her eyes, and each sound slammed into her ears like a cudgel as she was thrust cruelly back into the fragile body that crumpled under the abrupt intrusion.
Hold yourself together.
There was no time to pamper herself with the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness. No time to indulge in fluffy pillows and crisp sheets and whiskey burn. She fought against the hands holding her in place, shook her head to get away from the cloth blotting under her nose. Words formed at the edge of perception, drawing near, jockeying for position, begging for recognition.
"Ky, honey, don't struggle. It's okay." Corso's syllables were the first to gel into coherence.
"I'm alright," she breathed, then drew another deep breath to fuel her words and actions that needed doing. "I've never been under that long, it takes a toll." She looked into his worried eyes. "Get me something for the headache, something that won't knock me out. Hurry, babe. They won't be far behind."
Corso placed the kerchief in her hand and left as she'd requested while Scourge helped her sit upright so she could get a better look at what awaited them. She glanced, unconcerned, at the red blotches drying into the white fabric and focused on what lay ahead.
"Looks like a fortress carved out of an asteroid," she observed then broadened her view. Her eyes widened as she realized the meaning of the area framing the rocky formation floating in the distance. A vast area of absence; emitting, reflecting nothing, hanging empty and black against the darkness of space. "And you didn't tell me that it's suspended just outside the event horizon of a fucking black hole."
"It was rumored, but I didn't know for sure," he admitted. "And there is something I need to tell you while we make our way there. You won't like it, and it may delve into your past. Be prepared."
Corso returned and placed a Perigen patch on her shoulder. "Should be better soon," he said. "You want me to take 'er in?"
She patted his hand before engaging the boosters. "Thanks, babe, but, I got this," she said. "Best get on with it, Scourge. We have a few minutes, and the suspense is killing me."
The Sith leaned against the console, arms crossed, splitting his attention between her face and the destination. "Roughly twenty years ago, Vitiate initiated an experiment he called Planas Evitayottoi. In basic, that means Project Creation. In essence, he used alchemical bonding agents to combine atoms of Rakatan and Gree technology, originally designed to create super soldiers and a mentally enhanced network of spies. But, the ultimate goal was to turn the Force-blind into Force-sensitives, controlled by the emperor alone."
"Interesting, but what does that have to do with me?" asked Ky.
"How old were you when you were taken from your home?"
Her mouth tightened into a flat line. "My parents were murdered when the Empire invaded my world, and I was seven. So what?"
"Any history of Force-sensitives in your family?" he asked.
Her mind went immediately to her sister. "Not that I know of," she lied.
"I see." Scourge sensed the lie but tossed it aside. "And how old were you when you were sold to the Hutts? Do the math Ky."
"I was eight and a half, maybe nine. I don't remember much about that time, just flashes of pain and fear. I try not to think about it. You suspect I was one of these kids?"
"I do." He turned his attention from the windshield back to her face. "The resultant subatomic particles were infused in a delivery serum and injected directly into the Corpus Callosum the area between the two hemispheres of the brain or the pineal gland of several subjects, all of them children under the age of ten. Many went insane, several devolved into a vegetative state while others showed no measurable signs of change at all. He disposed of the insane and infirm, but the remaining failures were wiped of their short-term memory and sold to the Hutts to recoup some of the cost, and then he shut the project down."
Scourge paused for a moment to let all that he'd said sink in. "I observed closely while you performed beyond mere human capability, scanning for the faintest whisper of the Force. Whatever this thing is you can do is not the Force, however, it all but confirms the probability that you were one such test subject."
"If this is true, how did they not discover that I wasn't quite the failure they assumed I was? They had me for almost two years."
Scourge shrugged. "Perhaps they performed the wrong tests or asked the wrong questions. Maybe it didn't manifest until you were older. I have no answers."
"Huh," she snorted. "The idea of being that abomination's lab rat turns my stomach. Makes me wonder what else he did to me, to us." A sudden wash of anger and wretchedness shivered through her body. "The bastard stole my life!"
For the first time since Scourge began his speech, Ky noticed Corso's hand on her shoulder. His fingers gripped tighter as he asked, "Can it be removed?"
"No." The finality of the word felled hope with a single blow. "It becomes a permanent fixture in the brain, literally embedding tendrils into the synapse themselves. Any attempt at removal or nullification would be a death sentence."
Scourge leaned forward and swiped his finger under her nose catching a dot of blood on the tip. "The physical manifestations of the headaches, fatigue, and nosebleed must be taken as a warning against the prolonged use of your—gift. The stress could prove fatal."
"Well, I still have to get us out of here, don't I?" Ky emitted a harsh laugh. "Seems I'm a walking paradox of being enabled and disabled at the same time."
"The irony is not lost," said Scourge. "Alive but not living, we both carry his mark, and it is scored deep." He idly twirled one of his tendril rings, his tone turning strangely contemplative. "I'd often wondered why I felt such an affinity toward you since first we met, a kinship if you will. It would appear that we are siblings, in a sense, sired by the Emperor's neverending drive to—"
"Fuck with the natural order of things?" Ky interjected bitterly.
"Aptly stated," he agreed.
The asteroid hovered near, filling much of the windshield, it's pitted, and lumpy landscape held static as blue bursts from stabilizing boosters flared at intervals around the perimeter. A landing bay, dark and cavernous, yawned at them.
"Doesn't seem to be any defense systems that I can see," observed Ky before turning her gaze toward Scourge. "So what now?...Brother."