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Dragon Wars: The Force of Others
Episode 35: There is no force
He was there, he hadn't opened his eyes and he knew he hadn't woken up. Yet he had no memory of ever walking into this place. He looked at his hand and saw that it was only a shadow. Then he looked at the path ahead of him, a single glowing light in the distance. He took a step forward, but then fell. Flailing his body about, he was taken further from the light and deeper into the darkness. But as he fell he could see something awaiting him at the bottom, the fall wasn't endless.
"Interesting this one, the DNA is very unique, much different from ours. Highly adaptable, it will be of use in our experiments," he heard a voice echo in his mind.
"Human, very adaptable, seed them across worlds and then we'll have our slave race."
He realised that he was hearing an alien language, yet there was an echo in his ears, a translation of what they were saying.
"THE INFINITE GATES ARE FAILING! THEY'RE TAKING OVER!"
When the cry stopped, he saw what was at the bottom, a river of blue liquid. Slamming into it with a splash, he tasted the copper taste of blood, even though he had no mouth to taste with. No mouth to scream with either as he rose up out of the blood river. He climbed onto the surface of the blood, stumbling slightly when he realised he was walking on it. He raised his foot to take a step forward when a head rose out of the water. It was a person, the long head had two blinking eyes sticking out either side of it.
"We should never have taught them our ways, now they are destroying us."
"WE DESTROYED OURSELVES! Our Empire was never going to be Infinite!"
Bodies rose up from the river as he walked, that alien race rose up again and again. He continued walking across the river of blood, when he noticed a bulge move across the river. At first it moved casually around, before moving towards him. Dragon wings burst out of the blood as the bulge launched him into the air. The black dragon moved out of the blood, revealing its black scales and red eyes. It clamped its jaws down on his waist, and chomped down.
Pain, he felt pain in his belly, was that where the dragon had bitten him? Either way he had nothing else to do but move forward.
Karnax Shipping Yard
The Skylark exited Hyperspace, followed by the Imperial Harrower Class Dreadnought 'Dominance', and the three Oppressor Class battle cruisers 'Riot', 'Venomous' and 'Quell'. It was a terrifying sight for the numerous civilians in the Karnax Shipping Yards. But there were those whom had experience in combat, there were rebels. Gorrin Hellex was a Botham migrant whose people had been enslaved by the Empire. Part of his servitude had involved serving in the imperial militia, first as a 'mud trooper' and then as a fighter pilot when his talent for it was recognised. He had served for ten years and had gained considerable experience as well as a reputation.
"They're here, all of you move, get the parts into the shuttle, evacuate the non-combatants," he told his men.
He was the only Botham on the station, a great many were human, Twi'lek and even Sith. Some were pilots and others were frontline fighters. A few though never had experience in firing a blaster or even holding one. The Mandalorian Shiv Targa put on her Power tech helmet and gave out the blaster pistols that they had procured.
"What about the pilots?" one of the men asked.
Gorrin cursed, looking at the many men and women whom had been gathered. The transports could certainly carry them all. But without something to defend those ships, they would be useless. Gorrin thought of the H-60 Tempest bombers they had, the R-41 Starchasers. And the failed prototypes, the X, B, Y and A wings were considered the most successful prototypes and thus were approved for Mass production.
"I need volunteers," he said.
On the Skylark troopers moved to the transport shuttles, and pilots climbed into the Supremacy class fighters. Dorian walked with the troopers and looked up towards the hanger's observation room. Fausten stood there, overseeing the preparations before he received a holo call. The captain of the Dominance was a man within his fifties, and he had a look of pompous authority that Fausten recognised.
"Captain Threnhold, I am Captain Stark you have provided us with the intelligence to reach this rebel stronghold, I will be taking command," the captain said.
"We do not know how wide spread the rebel influence on the station is captain," Fausten said.
"We destroy the station, that will deal with the rebels," Captain Stark said.
"Negative Captain, you may captain the bigger vessel, but it seems that Captain Threnhold has the clearer view, what is your opinion on this Captain?" another hologram appeared, the captain of the Quell.
"I will not answer to a primitive," the captain of the Riot sent only a voiced message.
"Captain Stark has seniority, however I would remind him that the station procures and refines a great deal of minerals for the empire, losing it would be a blow to imperial procurement operations and trade within this region," Fausten explained.
"Of course, my recommendation is that we eliminate the transports and send in boarding parties," the Venomous's captain said.
"Many of the people on there may have further information that could potentially lead to the main facility Hego Damask is using for production of the rebel star fighters," Fausten said.
"Send whatever boarding parties you wish to Captain, I will not wait, my ship has the latest upgraded fighters and the newest Tie Bombers, they will be loaded with ordinance to assure the complete destruction of that base," Captain Stark explained.
"Very well captain," Fausten said.
He ended the transmission and then accessed the hanger's intercom.
"Twenty minutes, you have a twenty minute window to get in there and recover as many prisoners as you can," he said.
The trooper commander nodded his head before putting his helmet on. Dorian walked onto the troop transport, considering all he could do and all that he had to do. The rebellion needed resources and people, the more resources the empire destroyed and the more people it killed then paradoxically it assured both the end of the rebellion and the empire. Inwardly Dorian huffed, just like Tevinter the Sith was its own worst enemy. There was in fighting, arrogant officers and families holding on to old prejudices and traditions. And of course indoctrinated youths, those whom believed the empire had absolute righteousness, that it was invincible. Destroying the old elf empire had been a source of pride for Tevinter, but then they learnt the truth that it was the dread wolf who had imprisoned the old elf rulers. Many Tevinter youths then took to what the Sith empire offered them, technology, education and of course order. All Dorian saw was fear, and yes he knew fear was a necessity of rule, but the empire ruled with more than just fear. It was why Dorian knew that they would fail.
Thedas-Planascene factory
Ten years ago, Cauthrien would have laughed if anyone said that her lord or an Orlesian Chevalier would walk together. Especially if that Chevalier was Gaspard, yet that was what she saw. Two men considered the best of their nations, rival nations, walked together without armour and saw to their troops. Anyone with mechanical expertise saw to Gaspard's plans for the Tie Fighters. The Wookies that the Ferelden rebels recovered were the most invaluable engineers they had. They seemed like mages with what they were able to do with machines. Picking up the language though was the difficult part, but they understood basic enough to be able to write it.
"Say what you will about the Tie Fighters, flying coffins I might call them, but they can be very easily modified," one of Gaspard's men said.
"Considering the need for fighters in the upcoming operations, to guarantee easier manoeuvrability in the atmosphere we've created these Tie Strikers, using a longer cockpit canopy and the wings of a Tie Reaper, it'll double as a bomber and can be used for…"
"Quick strikes, hence the name," Loghain huffed as the Dwarven engineer moved on to the next fighter.
"The bombers were heavy and easy to shoot down, we modified the bombing port to instead hold troops, this 'Tie Boarding shuttle' will transport soldiers and it can double for hitting the enemy. We also added shields to protect it but that's cost a bit of fire power."
"I hope you've done more to these Tie's than just paint them black and red," Gaspard said, shaking his head at the view of the Wookies working on a seemingly normal Tie Fighter.
"The bulk of our Tie Fighter special force will be these fighters, upgraded to include a shield generator though not as strong as standard equipped ships, we've doubled on the speed at the expense of some armour but to compensate we've included an additional seat for a gunner position, the turret at the bottom of the cockpit canopy will fire blaster bursts and electromagnetic pulses for disabling shields whilst the standards armaments controlled by the pilot will include a rotary cannon and a plasburst cannon."
"Wait, why not rockets and torpedoes, why go for two standard weapons?" Loghain asked.
"Sacrifices, shields don't go well with a Tie Fighter trying to fire Photon torpedoes," the dwarf said.
"Basically it blows up," Gaspard's man (Loghain knew he'd have to learn his name) said.
"Then we have the second portion of our bulk, the Tie Whisper, stealth and speed, and fire power as you wished for Loghain. Some armour has been stripped away to guarantee more speed, but the bulk of the upgrades has gone into technology to conceal it from scanning devices, the downside is that IFF won't work on them."
"Hence the black and red paint, and the different armour shape, it's so allied pilots can identify it," Gaspard said.
"Exactly, it carries the standard laser cannon, and auxiliary armaments," the dwarf said.
"We just need pilots," Loghain said, turning with Gaspard away from the engineers.
"How many do you have?" Gaspard asked.
"People with the experience? Ten, people I would trust to fulfil the mission? Four at the most," Loghain said.
"That's more than I have, people who can ride horses is a lot different from pilots," Gaspard smirked.
"Meredith may have some men, volunteers from Kirkwall and the rest of the Free Marches, we'll need to ask around too," Loghain said, turning and looking at the Wookies.
They were good with machines and as he recalled, a Wookie had taken control of the rescue ship that brought the prisoners to the rebels in the first place.
"What about the Wookies?" he asked Gaspard.
The Orlesian hero followed Loghain's gaze, hiding a chuckle as he looked at the bear like creatures. He knew a frontline warrior race when he saw it. But sometimes even those you thought would be warriors could excel at something else far better. The tall could be artists, the muscular poets and the boisterous singers. These tall, fury and powerful creatures were incredible engineers, perhaps they would make good pilots too.
Deeproads
They had lost count of the days, though Leliana was sure that Sten was able to still keep an account of it. For a time, the 'Awakened' Darkspawn travelled with them. Then they left them to walk a set path.
"Keep going, you will find fork in path, take middle road, will go deeper and find lyrium fonts and secrets," the Herald told them.
She, Sten and Oghren carried on, deeper and deeper they went for what must have been days. They came eventually upon a Legion of the dead squadron. Their commander had fallen (dying again in their terms) to a methane explosion some time ago and it had fallen to their Lieutenant Renn to lead them. They were escorting a Shaperate named Valta.
"We came down here looking for lost secrets too, when the Imperials put Bhelen on the throne of Orzammar, it meant a lot of operations to recover lost ground. Bhelen saw only the territory he was getting back, not the resources that the empire was claiming. I recorded the memories of the stone, memories of the empire taking the dragon of beauty Urthemiel," she explained.
"How did they do it?" Leliana asked.
"Sith sorcery, unnatural techniques that only a few masters know. Bhelen wanted me to record that the Sith had preserved the old gods, I however recorded differently."
"You told the truth," Oghren said.
"Yeah, in hindsight for Bhelen it was foolish considering the truth also spread through word of mouth pretty quickly. He was still fairly new to rule at the time, people sympathetic to his rivals were still in his court. But I had still defied his wishes, he exiled me to search for relics in the Deep roads, but not with an imperial escort," Valta explained.
"It seems pretty useless considering the equipment that the imperials use," Leliana said.
"Within five years, the Imperials turned to the Venatori to help them and cut us off. Their progress was faster, but they weren't taking as much care as we would have, or rather we thought we would have," Renn explained.
"You see over the years, we've discovered that there are entities in the stone, Titans connected to the Lyrium, they predate the Blight," Valta said.
"I have heard it said that Lyrium has organic components, less like stone and more like plants, hence why it can be infected with the Blight," Leliana said.
"Leading to Red Lyrium," Sten chimed in.
"That's why the empire collects Darkspawn blood, so it can create troopers enhanced by Red lyrium, but they're difficult to control I've heard," Renn said.
"There were also rumours they were trying to create a type of weapon of pandemic through the darkspawn blood, 'biological warfare' I heard it had been called," Leliana explained.
"The imperials and the Venatori dig through the stone, through even the Lyrium fonts, the other day, they ripped out the heart of a Titan to use in their weapons," Valta said.
"The heart of a Titan, the power levels that would give off," Leliana muttered.
"We don't know what exactly they would use the Titan to power, it would be a waste if it was a single ship," Valta said.
"Enough speculating, what about the ancients? Have you discovered anything about them?" Leliana asked.
"A Venatori team went through the northern cavern, but they set off a Methane explosion and brought rubble down on it. We did manage to pick up the trail of an imperial survey team that was a little more careful, they're going through a cave where a lot of lyrium is flowing through it," Valta explained.
"The ancients built their sights on places where Lyrium formed, it's what allows them to maintain so much power for so long," Leliana said.
"That's Sha-Brytol territory," Renn said.
The Sha-Brytol were dwarves that cut themselves off from Dwarven society, going deep into the roads and making their homes near lyrium fonts. They infused their armour with lyrium and even drank it, over time the armour fused to their bodies and they became mad, willing to defend their territory and attacking strangers on sight.
"Then maybe it won't be as difficult to claim the vault as we first thought," Leliana smiled.
He tried again, taking a step, falling, traversing the river of blood. Then the black dragon struck again, this time swallowing him whole. A third time he was able to take a step without falling, he got lucky on two more steps before he fell again. That time he drowned in the river of blood. It all became a bit tedious on his fourth death when he landed at an odd angle. The fifth involved the dragon and fire. With each death he knew he was getting further and further away from the light, making his journey that much more difficult. But each death just made him that much more determined to find the light. He ran, invisible platforms guiding him to the doorway of light. His foot passed through nothing, but before he fell he threw his arm out, catching a platform. Launching off of it, he stumbled slightly on another platform and dived into the light. Bones began to form over his shadow, he regained some feeling in his body.
"Long life, is that not what we wanted, so that we may guide the galaxy as it needs to be guided?"
"Don't make me laugh….you only demanded long life so that you might build your eternal empire the…are coming, you fuel your vanity if you want, I will fight!"
"You know that I can't let you do that…it is unfortunate, you have been a good friend…"
"Damn you…"
The light stopped shining in his eyes just as the voices stopped. Instead of just a black void now, he could feel beneath his feet sand. It wasn't night time though, it was as if the surface of sand had been scribbled over a black canvas. More was drawn onto the canvas as he walked forward, huts began to form in his path. Then the silhouettes of people, they were positioned to look as if they were running. No, not running but playing, playing with a child.
"Come here Ace!"
"Papa, can I go with you on your next trip?"
"Kid, next time you can be my co-pilot."
Then the people shifted, the boy was standing in front of a woman, his head held low.
"I'm sorry…but news came in from…son, the planet was bombarded by… your father was in the upper city."
"Mama!"
"No one, no one survived son, I'm so sorry!"
He passed through the ghostly images and felt a surge of sorrow. Falling to his knees, he wanted to cry but couldn't. He tried to claw at his own eyes but there was nothing there. Instead he stood with great difficulty as the scenery shifted around him. It felt like he was balancing on a speeder. Sand flowed around him, causing him to suddenly sink. He fell through water, waves crashing into him and sending him onto a wet beach. Rising to his feet, he stood with great difficulty, feeling the aches and pains across his body. Nerves appeared over the bones on his shadow form. Walking forward, he made his way towards a cave in the distance. With each step he could hear something, a clicking sound maybe. It echoed in that cave, which was revealed to be a cavern that reminded him of…what did it remind him of?
His memories seemed further away now, who was he? Walking deeper into the cavern, he brought his hands to his head. He knew his name didn't he? He knew he missed people at least. There was an end to the cavern and when he reached it, he stepped onto a path made of water. Ahead of that path he could make out the silhouettes of multiple people, silhouettes that formed a line that seemed endless. They were clicking their fingers, the sound echoing down the line. The body language indicated some kind of confusion, but also a growing realisation with each snap of the fingers.
"It's always been there."
"Where there is light there is also darkness!"
"Don't be afraid."
"They're coming, the…are coming."
Then a sound, a powerful bass sound echoed in his ears. He yelled as the sound shook his very body. Standing in darkness, he brought his arms together to block some kind of tentacle. It was metallic though, and charged with red energy. Again he felt as if he had died and again he traversed the sand, descended through the cave and walked across the water. Then he faced it, the darkness, the tentacle. Jumping, it brushed against his feet, but then a second came around and struck his head. It was a third time when he finally dodged the attacks, all three of them. When the darkness passed he walked through a sleek corridor, there was still darkness but he could feel metal beneath his feet.
"I am not my father, and I am not…none of us are."
"How long has it been since we've seen a…a…how long since any of the …races? They're extinct, we're all that's left."
"Maybe it's good for you to think that there is only humanity left, but we've seen that there are other alien lives coming out of the stars, they deserve a place too."
"Turn over your rifle for inspection, then report to the division for reconditioning."
He turned a corner and saw people in types of armour he hadn't seen before. They looked like pictures in motion, running from a group in bulkier armour, projectiles flying from their rifles and even their hands.
"Go now, go!"
"No, you go on ahead…tell people what is happening here."
The images disappeared, replaced by a narrow pod, with one armoured individual in there. He had his head hung low, clearly crying.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
That wave of emotions he felt, it infected him with guilt. But the built was his own, it reminded him of what he had lost and how he had failed. He had failed them; they were all dead because of him. Now he had well and truly lost them, the voices that once taunted and guided him were gone. He was well and truly alone.
"Not alone!"
Darkness surrounded him and he looked ahead, he saw it clearly, a man in a black hood. He ignited a red lightsabre. Suddenly, he thrust his sword forward.
Dead, again, again and again. The light sabre cleaved through his body once, twice, after advancing so far he was sent back to the beginning again and again. It all built up until suddenly:
He screamed, roaring in pure frustration. The bones disappeared, the nerves faded and red eyes glowed on his shadows, red cracks spread across his body. He yelled in agony and anger and then, two red blades appeared in his hands. When he faced the Sith lord again, he was able to fight back. Their red blades clashed and they flashed through the darkness. The Sith lord was fast, unbelievably so. Within a few seconds he felt tired, his limbs felt weak from the man's strikes. Then the sabres were dragged through his chest. He rushed forward again, and again, three times he was struck down. There was no pattern of course, sometimes he lasted longer than others. His anger rose and he gained more ground the next few times, coming close to taking his opponent's head off twice. When he swung his swords the next time, the force of the swing was enough to blow the man's hood off.
Glowing red eyes widened and he looked upon the familiar face of Daylen Amell.
"This is what I am, what my choices led me to becoming," he said.
The one whom bore the red eyes recoiled, his swords of red light disappearing as he fell to his knees. Daylen simply smirked, deactivating his sabre as he recoiled his head and laughed.
"Blood magic, the dark side, I liked to think that it was a sacrifice, that I was throwing myself into darkness for the sake of others. The dark side is not the hard path to take, in fact it's the easiest path to power you can find. You can have so much power in anger; it can achieve so many things. After that it becomes so easy to commit atrocities for the greater good, to take revenge for yourself, to not care about the deaths of others, even those you claim to respect and love," Daylen knelt by the shadow and continued smiling.
"Alistair, the man you would have followed as king. Loghain, the hero of the river Dane whom you looked up to and wished to be. Leliana, the only Chantry priestess you actually like. Wynn, the self righteous circle apologist, who drives you crazy but makes you smile too. Bethany and Marian Hawke, your supposed family, but the truth little shadow, the truth is that we are no family to them. Not even by blood as you like to think," Daylen laughed again as he stood up, thrusting his hand at the shadow.
The hatred, the pain, it all flowed through him and blasted away any of the light he had left. But before death took him again he heard Daylen say one final thing:
"Oh and Irving, your teacher and the only father you've ever known…his death won't even make you blink!"
That final last gasp of light began to fade and the shadow died out.
Yet still, a spark remained.
"You can't die just yet mage," a voice whispered in the darkness. "Remember, I said true tests, never end!"
Irving opened his eyes, his meditation had been brief, his rest even more so. His bones ached from arthritis, his eye sight blurred at times and sometimes he thought he was back at the tower, guiding Daylen through a spell.
"Words are power, but so are thoughts my boy," he muttered.
"What's that?" Cullen asked.
"Nothing, forgive me, my mind was elsewhere, but now it is here, very much here," Irving said.
Cullen nodded, looking towards the city in the distance. Val Royeaux certainly had a grander architecture than Denerim, the spires and towers seemed shinier. But he still preferred home, maybe because he missed it so much. His brother was sailing with Isabela's crew, and his sister worked in…what did the imperials call it 'logistics' for the rebellion. Irving rose, and Cullen could hear the creak in the older man's back, the snap of his knee joints. The old man did not groan, in fact, after that initial discomfort he seemed to stand better than ever. They walked around the camp, it was small and cramped, templars and apostates, tensions were high yet still there was understanding between them. Each of them had witnessed some abuse of power that pushed the limit of their tolerance, people could take so much before they finally snapped. Cullen had seen it in Ferelden, at the tower of Lake Calenhad, though he had entertained the prospect of rebellion, there came a limit.
It was the same event that truly pushed Daylen to accept his rebellion that pushed Cullen too. Surana's murder at the hands of a Sith. Each night Cullen remembered and saw the death of the elf mage, the beauty, the talent snuffed out. He understood his feelings for her were ill fated, inappropriate considering his responsibility to her. Templars were supposed to protect mages, and Cullen had seen them fail time and time again. But not this time, this time they would fight for each other. Irving walked to the hill and raised his hand, looking down at the apostates in their rags, makeshift armour and custom robes. He looked too at the Templars, some in old armour, others with pieces of weaponry or machines attached.
"I remember when I was a boy, first arriving at the tower, fear in my eyes but anger in my heart, I hated the tower with a passion. There was a particular templar who was younger than I, maker he was annoyingly self righteous, so many years passed and he barely changed, we bickered all the time. Some of you know what it is like to grow up in a tower, some of you know how wrong it can go, how necessary it can be and you also know how unnecessary it can be. Many of you have gone through your lives outside of a tower and never encountered a demon before. That is the beauty of life, experiences are different, there's no truly right way to see the world," Irving explained.
"In the end all we can do is our best every day, our best to make whatever system we put into place right, to make it work, to make it fair for as many as we can. Nothing can ever be perfect, but it is the pursuit of this perfection, the cooperation that must be sought in everything that we do. The force was a concept introduced to me only recently, I was Tranquil not long ago, but it was the force that gave me that miracle and that miracle came from the force within another, within Daylen Amell!"
The mages and even the Templars perked up at the name. Cullen too was transfixed, even though he recognised somewhat that over the past few months Bethany, Leliana, Irving and in particular the dwarf Varric Tethras spread story after story, creating an image of Daylen that may not have been true. Cullen knew a humble and quiet individual, only speaking when he wished to, the dwarf created a speaker of incredible speeches. He knew a talented but reserved young man, Varric created a prodigy whom could master any skill. Cullen came to know an intelligent man whom recognised how the world was and how he wished it to be, Varric spoke of a hero who could make the world the way he wanted. The templar remembered a very nervous young man hiding desperation with hope, Varric spoke of a master tactician.
"He became one with the Fade and one with the Force in one movement, and he passed on that power to his fellow mages, he put everything that he was into fighting the Sith, into setting us free. Because our path, our way, is not for them to decide. The force he came to recognise was not some gene within us, was not some energy field that provides us with power," Irving slapped his chest as he spoke. "IT WAS IN HERE AND EACH EVERY ONE OF US! IN THE CHOICES THAT WE MAKE! IN THE WAVES THAT WE CREATE THROUGH OUR ACTIONS!"
Varric told the story of a hero. But Irving, he remembered a son.
"The world is changed by the force of others, so today, at this moment, LET US BECOME THAT FORCE! THE FORCE OF OTHERS!"
Irving's roar echoed, and the cheers of the mages and templars together flew high. It could be heard from Val Royeaux, and from the hilltop where Loghain and Gaspard's troops stood. He put on his helmet, clad in his full black and gold armour and the hero of river Dane raised his great sword high. Modified walkers and tanks followed behind him, armoured Mabari hounds, Avvar Warriors and their goats (and an Avvar chief who wanted to throw goats at the castle) and dwarf legionnairies and their Brontos all marched. On the other side of the city, Marian Hawk prepped her bow, dressed in her full Champion's gear whilst Bethany wore armoured gloves and chainmail (to hide the energy shield generators) with her regular dress. Fenris wore his armoured crown and upgraded armour, looking down the length of his blade at the blaster barrel imbedded in it, Gunblade was what Dagna had called it. Their forces, minus the werewolves and shapeshifting wild mages were all mounted, horses, dracolisks, the Dalish on their Harts and dwarves on Nuggalopes. Fenris sat on a Hart named the Pride of Arlathan, Marian was on a desert lightning Drasolisk, Bethany had taken to riding a Free Marches charger and Varric grudgingly decided on a Battle nug.
"Well, I guess we've got good company to die with," Varric shrugged.
"Thank you for setting the tone dwarf," Fenris dryly said.
"Loghain said there are keys to taking a castle, coordinated strikes, in particular overwhelming your enemy by getting them to focus defence on a single point," Marian explained.
"That's where the mages and Templars being led by Irving and Cullen come in," Bethany said.
"The second point of course, is to have help from the inside," Varric grinned.
Celene was not disgusted by the sewers, she had smelt and experienced worst things in her playing of the game. Though she was used to a far more subtle form of attack, Briala was particularly adept at it. Both wore battle ready versions of their respective blue and green dresses, skirts reduced to trousers and stockings, heels replaced with boots. They and the other handmaidens wore their masks and armed themselves with daggers and blasters, Briala and Celene both choosing fittingly the Defender Sporting Blaster pistol. Elves were with them, as were a few like minded Orlesian soldiers in makeshift trooper gear, back packs and blaster rifles. Then there were of course the two knights.
"I can protect you, I can't fight a war for you," Qui-Qon said.
"Val Royeaux is my city, I will not sit by whilst Gaspard claims it, he is an honourable man but he is still a player of the game," Celene said.
"Perhaps he has stopped believing in the game, it's worked out well for you so far," Obi said.
"Part of you is right, but we cannot simply turn away from our culture," Briala said.
"Is it your culture Briala?"
"I know more about Orlais than I do the Dales, when the Empire destroyed it I felt…not as much anger as I would feel if my true home was destroyed," Briala explained.
"And what is your true home Briala? Orlais, the street you grew up in, or the person you are beside?" Qui-Gon asked.
Celene smirked as Briala blushed, dismissing the knight's inquiry. They finally came to a ladder, Celene checked her Chrono and then began to climb. She tapped the pommel of her dagger against the lid, once, twice, and three more times, creating a tune of sorts. There was a groan of metal and then the lid was slid to the side, a man in Orlesian armour stood, holding up his hand.
"Panaka," Celene whispered.
"Welcome back governess," the dark skinned man said.
He offered Celene his hand and she took it, removing her mask and slipping it into her equipment pouch. Other security agents were with Panaka, robed men and women, elves and humans.
"These are the volunteers?" Celene asked.
"No, they're the ones who made the plan, the captain of the adjacent district is on our side, but not all of his men are pro-resistance, we have…"Panaka checked his chrono and looked at the sun in the sky, something many often did when they weren't used to time keepers. "Six minutes until the guard patrol changes to a group not pro-resistance, we'll pass through the district, then cut through, this alleyway," he brought up a holographic map as the others climbed out of the sewers.
"Are we expecting any kind of resistance?" Qui-Gon asked.
"We always expect resistance," Panaka said.
"But we still have an important part to play, to repeat what was done at Denerim, overwhelm the imperial forces, win the hearts of the people and show both that we are capable of opposing them. Gaspard and Loghain have their plans, as does that boy whom fancies himself king…"
Celene was shocked, as was everyone else when they heard something in the sky. A shadow was cast over the city and the alarm began to sound. The roar of the dragon echoed over Val Royeaux and even Celene, once so confident looked up at the sky.
"I believe that would be that 'boy whom fancies himself king,'" Obi-Wan said dryly.
In one of the spires of the city, Vivienne strapped on the gauntlets of her Knight-Enchanter robes. She put on her headdress, picked up her staff and the handle of her short sword and walked to the window, looking up at the sky. Behind her, her acolytes donned their Bequests and masks, lifting their own staves to join their mistress.
"It is time, the battle of Val Royeaux begins today," Vivienne said.
A green glow spread across her sword and she smirked, seeing the dragon roar in the sky.
Next Episode 36: There is only death
Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, the chapter with the shadow was inspired by numerous (frustrating :) deaths in Star Wars Fallen Order and (of course) Dark Souls :)
Next chapters after 36 will take on the format of Rebellion's 'Battle of Denerim' arc with the 'battle of Val Royeaux' and the 'battle of Korvis' arcs.