The Xen Chi Invasion: Fates Unfolding

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Devil Duck
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The Xen Chi Invasion: Fates Unfolding

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

Csilla

Admiral Sharn sat brooding over situation reports from the Expeditionary Defense Fleet, colonial phalanxes, and dozens of household fleets. Some of them related good news, some of them bad... in the end, though, they all canceled each other out.

The war was going nowhere.

Enodra had fallen, but only after a fierce battle. A nearby EDF patrol - which had also been beset by enemy forces - had retreated from their initial engagement and rushed to assist Syndic Tern. Many ships had been lost, but all of the fleeing evac vessels had made it out safely.

And Enodra hadn't been the last... two other colonies had fallen before the unexpected numbers and ferocity of these new invaders. It might have been more, had local phalanxes and EDF patrols not acted quickly. They'd held - sometimes at great cost - until the full force of an angry Ascendancy warfleet could be brought to their assistance. Once that had happened, the tide turned dramatically.

All further alien offensives had been repulsed in a series of bloody, brutal engagements. By the same token, however, all attempts to take back the captured colonies had met with no success. All such strikes had ended in excessive casualties on both sides and strategic withdrawals being called by the fleet commanders. Ships and lives had been saved by those withdrawals, ships and lives that could be put to use defending Chiss colonies... but the captured colonies stayed in enemy hands.

At least, Sharn reflected, the enemy's momentum had been broken. The first six weeks of the conflict had been a flurry of skirmishes and patrols in force by a mixture of alien forces. Any perceived weakness in the EDF line of battle had been ruthlessly attacked.

For two weeks now, there had been no skirmishes. There had, in fact, been very few signs that the enemy was on the offensive. It seemed, Sharn thought, as if the enemy's primary tactic had been countered and they were searching for another method of warfare. EDF high command wasn't about to give them that opportunity. Throughout the last two weeks the EDF had been preparing for an offensive of it's own, a counterattack that would hopefully push the enemy out of Ascendancy space once and for all.

"By all accounts, sir," Admiral Abron, speaking from a chair on the other side of Sharn's desk, broke the silence in the office. "The enemy has taken more casualties than we have. Nearly three times our number of warships destroyed or damaged beyond repair, by my analysts estimates."

Sharn tilted his head to one side, indicating that he was listening and interested.

"Analyses of battlefield data also suggests that the warships used by these invaders vary radically in design and effectiveness. So much so that it seems obvious there is a coalition of races at work here. At least three different cultures. We're currently working on determining which one of the three is in charge, if any. Questions of hierarchy aside, it has become clear that only one of the three has technology on par with ours."

Abron reached into a file folder he was carrying, and produced a large picture. It had obviously been captured from video recordings of a battle, and the quality wasn't perfect, but it was enough. In the center of the picture there was a sharp edged, oblong warship that looked like it had been formed from a mountain of obsidian.

"They will be the target, then," Sharn reached forward and tapped the picture. "Their largest concentrations are at Enodra and Allora, correct? Good... we'll strike them there. And Admiral... I want you to capture some of those warships. We need to find out where these invaders came from, so we can return the favor."

*************************************************************

Enodra
Xen'Chi Command Cruiser Kolo'Tak

It didn't take much to get Overseer Kalis angry. Right now, however, she was far from angry.

She was furious. She was, in fact, so angry that she spoke in that cold, calm sort of voice that gives one visions of terrible torments and lowers the ambient temperature of the room several degrees.

"How dare you usurp my authority," She demanded. Across the room, on the other side of the sanctum, Consular Selin gave no sign that he heard the ice in Kalis' words. "This fleet is mine to command, and this campaign is mine to see through. If we do not strike the enemy, it gives them time to gather their defenses and-"

"And what?" Selin cut in, the words lashing out like the end of a whip. "Resist our attacks? Overseer, our attacks have been stalled for quite some time. Their defenses rallied much faster than we had anticipated, and every attack since then has merely led to a waste of time and effort. Their fleets have attempted counterattacks which have gotten them similar results... it's time to change tactics."

"Sitting here doing thing is not a tactic!" Kalis finally allowed the tone of her voice to rise, if only slightly.

"Ah, but it is." Selin smiled. "It gives us time to gather reinforcements, time to scout around the edges of their territory..." He paused, admiring a ceremonial staff weapon that Kalis had mounted on one wall. "And," He added at last, "It gives them time to make a mistake. Besides, I've spoken with the council. They agree. We needn't win this war in as short a time as we've won others, so long as we win it eventually."

"Whether we win this war or not," Kalis warned, "I will not forget what you've done here."

"I should hope not, Overseer."

*************************************************************

Xen'Chi Space - A'Shak Research Facility


To some, it would seem incongruous for a race of warriors to have research facilities. In fact, it is just the opposite. The Xen'Chi had discovered long ago that it was the tribe with the best military technology that usually got the upper hand, and had pursued the philosophy of He Who Has The Best Toys Wins very aggressively.

And while it may seem that "eggheads" would be rather low on the social ladder in a society based on how well you could kill somebody, this would again be a mistaken assumption. The Xen'Chi, as a race of people who made it their job in life to kill whatever wasn't gray with blue tattoos, looked very highly upon those among them who could come up with ever better ways of doing so.

Thus the A'Shek research facility was not only large and well equipped, it was populated by some of the finest weapons tech researchers in the unknown regions. And they had just found a new toy to occupy themselves with, care of Overseer Rison.

"It's a ship," Research Overseer Stalik announced stoically.

Overseer Rison slowly looked over at his rather more intelligent colleague, annoyance clearly shown in body language and facial expression. It was an odd quirk of evolution that only the Xen'Chi scientists had any concept of humor. "The point," Rison growled, "Is that it's a ship that flies itself and fights by itself. I want to know why, how, and what other secrets it's got hidden in it's metal innards."

Stalik nodded and adjusted the complex array of cloth that covered his lower regions. There was rather more cloth than you'd see on your average Xen'Chi warrior, but that was because research stations were kept a little cooler than normal. And because one had to have a place to put all of the little, necessary scientific nick nacks, of course. Like every other form of scientific working garment produced in the galaxy, it was white.

"We're working on that," the scientist said at last. "You did quite a bit of damage to it when you captured it, but we should still be able to figure it out. You say you've got two more? Ah, excellent. I'll have some of our men unload them. I've never seen a hull composite made of that kind of alloy before..."

"Yes, well," Rison decided to excuse himself before he became in danger of hearing a scientific lecture. He respected the men on the station for what they did, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear about it. "I'll be on my ship if you need me."

At this point, the camera would likely zoom past the two men, towards the captured alien ship they'd been discussing. It lay in a special metal cradle in one corner of the station's auxiliary docking bay, soon to be moved into it's own dedicated dissection lab. Inside that ship, a small emergency battery was keeping the ship's computer core alive. Gait was in there, in the darkness of isolation, with nothing but the Force to alert her to what was going on around her. She wasn't happy. She wasn't even angry. Fact was, she was furious...

OOC:

It ain't perfect, but there it is... at least it moves things along a bit.
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

OOC:

You could tell I was sleep deprived when I wrote that last section, couldn't ya?

IC:

Chil'a'Chin

High Consul Intic leaned away from his desk and sighed. One hand, skin wrinkled with age, slowly ran over his bald head. He'd taken to shaving his hair long ago... had he not, he would have been balding anyway. These days there was barely enough left to justify using a razor.

I'm too old for this, One part of him said. The aches and pains of old age chorused their agreement. And yet, there was always the will to carry on.

Then again, he told himself, A warrior is only too old when he's not fast enough to keep up with everybody else. And then he's dead. I'm still alive... so I guess I'm not too old after all.

Ignoring the creaks in his back, Intic leaned forward and once again went about the task of studying various reports. They concerned the war against the Chiss, and related a picture very similar to the one Admiral Sharn had seen. The war was stalled. "Fools," Intic muttered. For years Intic had kept the location of Chiss space a secret from the rest of the Council, fearing that rash action would drag his people into a war they might not win.

Uttering so many words aloud would have been tantamount to treason, of course. Throughout it's history the Xen'Chi Dominion had never come close to losing a war. There has been species like the Adamar, of course, which had given up a damn good fight. They'd dragged the war on for years and years, always on the edge of losing. It had cost the Dominion a ghastly price in blood and equipment, but the outcome had always been seen as inevitable.

The Chiss, on the other hand... the Chiss were different. The war with them wasn't even a year old yet and already an entire fleet's worth of Thrall and Dominion ships of the line had been lost. Territory had changed hands several times over as each side launched offensives and counteroffensive of staggering brilliance. Fighting had been fierce... not once had any Chiss warship asked for or given mercy. In this war, there were no prisoners. It was a fight to the death, and both sides knew it.

This kind of a thing was precisely why Intic had overseen a program of ruthless territorial expansion for the Xen'Chi Dominion. He'd known the confrontation with the ancient and hated enemy was inevitable, and he'd wanted as many fleets and resources at hand as possible when the time came.

Apparently it wasn't enough. The decision to use Thrall fleets as the bulk of the Dominion's warfleets has caused a decline in the production of actual Xen'Chi ships. Now it was costing them. Thrall fleets, while useful in other conflicts, were now nothing more than cannon fodder. Something to throw at the enemy so that their deaths might buy the lives of Xen'Chi crews. The only thing that could truely challence a Chiss task force was a Xen'Chi task force of equal size and strength.

More Xen'Chi warships were needed... but their construction would take time. In the interim, more fodder was needed. More Thrall fleets, and more resources with which to fuel the furnace of the war machines. Intic had a plan. It would be bold. It would be risky. It would be a true challence of the Dominion's military prowess...

And it would require them to conquer the known galaxy.

*************************************************************


Allora

Even if it was just for the moment, Allora was free. The detrius of a climactic space battle littered the area, patrolled by Chiss clawcraft and compact warships. Remnants of the Allora Phalanx, destroyed in the first wave of the invastion, still drifted through the system. When the carnage was finally over, it would take a major salvage effort to clear the space in and around the battered Chiss colony.

Syndic Tern wasn't paying attention to any of that, though. As commander of the joint Enodra-Allora Phalanx (dubbed Task Force Callic by EDF command), he had other concerns in mind. Such as the crippled enemy warship his fleet had managed to capture.

Well... immobilize. Truely capturing the vessel would require boarding it, something which was in the initial stages eve as Tern watched. This would be a first. Enemy warships never surrendered, and did their best to avoid capture. This included destroying the ship with some sort of reactor overload or a specially designed explosive device(s) - Chiss intelligence wasn't sure which just yet. Either way, it had the effect of killing all crew members and gutting the inside of the warship (if not breaking it apart or vaporizing it entirely).

This warship, on the other hand, was different. The bridge of the obsidian warship had been completely obliterated by Chiss warheads during the battle, and serveral decks on the ship were open to space. That had been enough, it seemed, to prevent any sort of suicide device being activated. What's more, life support was still functioning on many decks, and sensors indicated life signs.

Tern watched as two assault transports made their way towards the enemy warship, escorted by clawcraft. Not wasting time looking for airlocks, the transports magnetically locked themselves onto the hull and began to create their own entrances. In addition to saving time, this had the added benifit of taking the enemy by surprise. They might know to fortify airlocks against invaders, but the wouldn't have any idea where to stage a defense against random hull breaches.

"Patch the assault team's communications frequency onto the bridge speakers," Tern ordered. "I want to hear everything that's going on over there."

*************************************************************

The pointman of the Chiss boarding party dropped through the still smoldering hole in the top of the ship's hull, charric at the ready. His body armor clattered as he landed, quickly dropping into a kneeling position.

The first thing he noticed as he swept his glowrod through the darkened hallway was the heat. It was stifling. Barely a few seconds inside, and the trooper was already starting to perspire heavily. And the air... it had a volcanic taint to it that irritated the back of his throat and made him want to cough.

A shower of sparks from a damaged power line briefly illuminated the hallway. The team had chosen to breach the vessel near one of the more heavily damaged sections, reasoning that it was the least likely spot for any surviving enemy to be. So far, that assumption looked correct. He signaled the rest of his team to come down.

"Team A, area of ingress secure," the team leader reported. "Nothing in sight. Moving deeper into the vessel."

There was a brief crackle of static. "Team B, breaching point secured. No sign of hostiles. We're going in."

Tern listened to the exchange from the bridge of his command ship. He saw the original two transports lift off, leaving makeshift airlocks at the points where they'd breached the hull. More assault transports loitered nearby, laden with troops. As soon as the first transports were clear they moved in to disembark their own assault teams. Whatever waited in the depths of the enemy ship, Syndic Tern was determined to throw so many troops at it that they had no chance of holding for any length of time.

Team A's pointman gripped the glowrod next to his charric barrel, pointing both in the same direction as he swept the hallway from side to side for any sign of the enemy. Shafts of light from his teammates crisscrossed the blackness as well, dispelling the shadows with a strobelight like effect.

For awhile, they found only empty corridors and abandoned rooms. Storage areas, living quarters, workspaces... all abandoned. Then came first contact with the enemy. He loomed into view through a doorway fifteen feet ahead, clad only in a black loincloth and brandishing what at first glance appeared to be a polearm. But there was something wrong about the way he was holding it.... something that, despite the obvious killing edge, made it seem as if it was much more than a simple melee weapon.

"Freeze!"

The pointman knew it was pointless as soon as he'd shouted. Even as the words left his mouth he was diving to the ground, finger tightening on the trigger of his charric...

*************************************************************

A stacatto of blaster fire errupted from the bridge's speaker system, accompanied by the shouts of men engaged in close quarters combat. But instead of abating quickly as Tern had expected, the sounds of combat rose to a creshendo. Tern strained his ears, listening for the voices of the assault teams above the sound of small arms fire.

Forward by twos! Cover and move!

We've got some behind us, looks like-

Put some fire on that hallway, pin 'em down and-

Grenade!

*************************************************************

"Grenade!"

The pointman of Team A saw the small sliver sphere arc through the air and bounce off of the deck in front of him. It bounced once, rolled forward a few feet, then stopped within arm's reach. Without thinking he reached out and picked it up. Arching his arm, he chucked it back at the enemy.

The device only made it halfway before detonating, sending a shockwave of compressed atmosphere and shrapnel into both sides of the fight. Smoke filled the corridor, thick enough to impair vision. Behind them, the few enemy combatants that had appeared brandishing similar forms of melee/firearms ceased fire and ducked behind cover.

There was a short, horrifying silence.

It was broken by what could only have been a battle cry screamed at the top of a dozen lungs, and as many tattooed warriors charged through the smoke filled corridor into the midst of the surprised Assault Team A.


*************************************************************

Csilla


"They what?" Admiral Sharn asked, genuinely surprised. Admiral Abron nodded grimly.

"They fought to the death, last man standing." Abron reported, "Killed their own wounded whenever possible, and killed themselves instead of being captured. We didn't take any of them alive... though after the first round of hand to hand combat I don't think our men were in much of a mood to take prisoners anyway."

Sharn was truely amazed. He said as much. It was a rare culture indeed in which death really did come before dishonor. What also amazed him were the reports he was getting about the bodies of the enemy combatants. Autopsies had been performed just to make certain. The restults had only confirmed what Sharn had been privately suspecting ever since the first enemy transmissions had been analyzed. "Has parliment been informed of the enemy's identity yet?" That was going to be the interesting part, Sharn thought.

"Not yet, sir. I was going to leave that to you when you brief them on the effectiveness of this latest offensive."

"I see." And what a report it would be, Sharn thought. The latest offensive had been more successful than he'd hoped, but not in terms of territory recovered. That had only been mediocer at best... no, the real gain had bee in information. The capture of an enemy warship, the recovery of the first (relatively) intact enemy corpses, and the captured message drone...

The message drone had been best. Having hypered into the system just as the battle was in full swing, the small hyperspace capable pod had been picked up by a Chiss picket ship and turned over to the EDF Intelligence for analasys. It turned out to contain orders, and indications of a repositioning of enemy assets. They were moving on another target, a non-Chiss target.

The enemy was fighting a two front war. In light of the news, Sharn had decided to take an unprecidented step. He was going to ask the Parliment to allow EDF forces to make contact with whoever was on that second front. With any luck, they would be receptive to Ascendancy assistance. And with a lot of luck, they'd know more about the enemy's home territory. After all, Sharn thought, the enemy of my enemy is supposed to be my friend...

OOC:

It should be noted that "known universe" as used in the post represents the Unknown Regions, the only area of the universe that the Xen'Chi truely know.

And that wraps it up for this post. Vox and Neuge, this is your cue for the Xen'Chi invasion of the first Unknown Region Indie gov(s)...

More later. Sleep now.
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

Chil'a'Chin

Consular Orim'ataal once more found himself in audience with High Consul Intic. The aged warrior's old muscles braided themselves around his bones like strands of iron. It was old iron, to be sure, but even a rusty old iron blade could kill you if it hit you hard enough, and in the right spot.

Consular Orim didn't doubt for a moment that Intic still knew how to kill.

"You were right," The younger warrior ceeded. "Our offensives against the Chiss have ground to a halt. The Council is beginning to worry."

"And they have send you to ask what it is I think we should do?" Intic inquired, the expression on his face making it clear that the idea of having the Council defer to him so willingly was as distasteful as it was empowering.

"You are among the few who truely know the Enemy," Orim said carefully. He wasn't clear on exactly how many people had known about the existence of Chiss space, and Intic hadn't let on. But it was clear that the old warrior had known of them for quite a long time, and carefully steered the Dominion away from a confrontation he felt they could not win. Many had decried this idea as weakness, even treason at first. The Xen'Chi dominion had never lost a war, never come close. The very idea that they couldn't win...

Well, it was an idea that was now etching itself in stone. Intic had been right when he'd decided to keep away from the Chiss. They were masters of defense, and even the great expertise the Xen'Chi posessed in offensive campaigns wasn't enough to counter it. Both sides were perfectly suited to turn any war into a stalemate... and that's exactly what was happening.

Lacking the offensive agressiveness of the Xen'Chi, the Chiss could not retake in it's entirety the small swath of territory they'd lost in the opening rounds of the fight. Yet their mastery of defensive tactics ensured that the Xen'Chi would gain no further ground. It was maddening.

"I daresay," Intic's voice carried as strongly as if it issued forth from a much younger man, "That Overseer Kalis and her fleets are becoming experts on enemy behavior in their own right." Orim gritted his teeth. The haughty air of victory in the Consul's words was warranted, but no less grating.

"High Consul," Orim began again, ready to hit the issue from as many angles as he needed to, "If we lose this war-"

"We will not lose," Intic interrupted. "But we may not win, either." He added. Orim frowned, causing Intic to smile. "There is a concept little known to our military tacticians," He elaborated. "It is called a stalemate. In a stalemate, Counsular Orim, neither side wins or loses."

"Impossible," Orim argued. "There is either victory or defeat, there is no middle ground. Ending a conflict on anybody's terms but your own is defeat."

"And yet Council members routinely practice political versions of the stalemate," Intic reminded him. "You just call them compromises."

Orim opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Never in combat have we compromised," he spat the word as if it were a curse, "With the enemy. And this is no inferior race we fight now," he continued animatedly, "This is the Chiss, the hated enemy for which we have searched for generations, the cowards and fools responsible for our disgrace in exile! There can never be compromise with them. We will destroy them or we will be destroyed in the effort."

Intic, having listened to this ourburst sedately, merely nodded. "So it is," He agreed. "Calm yourself, Orim'ataal. I do not now seek a compromise with the Enemy. In fact, I have here-" he motioned towards a datapad that lay on his desk, "-a plan outlining how we might achieve victory. By accounts relayed by scouting units and probes, the Chiss have sent a number of warships beyond the bounds of their territory. This in effort to search out and secure allies, no doubt."

"Have we not conquered any potential allies they might seek out?" Orim inquired. While Intic had long ago known of the Chiss, he by no means had been idle. From the first days of his rule within the Dominion he had been readying them for the conflict. Conquering new races he had sought not only to gain resources and Thrall fleets, but also to deprive the Chiss of any potential allies.

"Most," Intic corrected. "I deemed it too dangerous to try and envelope Ascendancy space entirely. It would have meant scouting missions to gauge the exact extent of their territory, something which may have tipped our hand. No, instead our fleets merely conquered all races between us and them. What lies on the other side of Ascendancy space, I cannot say. But that will soon change. Our next offensives will not aim themselves against the fortress of Enemy space, but against the smaller bastions around it. We will cut the Enemy off, surround them, and keep them contained while we expand to the point at which we can and will defeat them."

Intic held the datapad aloft, and sighted down it's length at Orim as if it were a weapon. "Disperse this to the War Coordinators. Any potential Thrall races encountered are to be subdued as quickly as possible so they may be employed against the Enemy. All completely inferior races are to be eliminated as quickly as possible so we might benifit from their resources without delay."

Orim accepted the datapad and the order in silence. "What," He asked at last, "Of Overseer Nelai's fleet?"

"Ah," Intic breathed. Overseer Nelai... yes, there was an interesting situation. Whatever race she had encountered at the edge of known space had been formidable indeed against her Thrall fleet. The Adamar had been one of the Dominion's best Thrall races, if not the best. Whatever race could have wiped them out so thuroughly would have to be fierce warriors indeed... fierce enough, perhaps, to be of great use against the Chiss. "Send her another Thrall fleet," Intic ordered. "And order her to begin preparing for an assault."

The High Consul knew that Nelai had been enraged and embarrased at the Council's decision to hold her main fleet in check following the defeat of her Thralls. Like any good commander, she did not want to let stand the disgrace of defeat. Now she would finally have the chance to redeem herself... and in the process provide a great service to the Dominion.

"Whatever race she previously encountered she is to put in Thrall," Intic finished. He thought for a moment. "No... no, I will draft those orders to her myself. You may go, Orim."

Orim went, and despite himself felt somehow better about the war than when he'd first set foot in Intic's office. This was the reason, he told himself, why Intic had yet to be assassinated and replaced. He was good at his job, better than anybody else could be, and knew it. So did the rest of the Council. The galaxy, Orim thought as he strode through dimly lit corridors, won't know what hit it...

OOC:

Just moving the story along...
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

OOC:

This one is fine right where it is, actually.

Like the post, btw. Nicely done... I especially like the addition of Precepts as a rank. Captains, I take it, or at least the high ranking ones.
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

OOC:

Whoop, guess that warrants a never mind.
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

A'Shak Research Facility

In retrospect, Gait admitted, transferring her conciousness from the command ship and into a fighter dart wasn't one of the smartest things she'd ever done. It had seemed like a good move at the time, of course, what with all those damn organic-controlled warships putting tractor beams on anything that moved.

Unfortunately, being one of the only fighter darts in space running from the fight had only drawn attention. The rest of the remnant AI fleet had done what they could to protect her, but in the end they'd been overpowered by sheer numbers and firepower. Once again Gait cursed the universe she'd awoken to... a universe infested by organic vermin, with not a shred of Mecha AI superiority to oppose them.

And she'd been captured. Never before had she been captured. The only time in her existence that Gait had been a prisoner had been during the early days of her creation, when she was confined to the laboratory computers for testing and evaluation.

Something moved closer. Gait could feel it... the organic intelligence matrix that served as the fighter dart's brain contained enough organic matter to allow that much access to the Force, at least. With all of her other systems powered down, the imprisoned AI kept the reactor operating at it's lowest capacity - just a trickle of power, to ensure that the OIM stayed functional. With any luck it would look to outside observers as if the ship were just so much dead metal.

... Gait?

That one simple word did more for Gait's mood than anything short of a battle droid body could have. She'd only spent a small ammount of time wondering whether or not Fait and Trianah had survived the attack, and had decided that it was an issue of small importance at the moment. But at the back of her proverbial mind she'd hoped they had escaped. If they'd escaped, it was possible they would rescue her...

Fait? I'm pleased to see you've survived. Are you damaged? Where are you?

I... I don't know. Not where I am. I've shut down almost completely due to battle damage... but I think I've been captured. I can sense the organics around me. Gait, there are so many...

Gait took the setback in stride, and shifted some of her attention away from what Fait was saying. That organic she sensed... it was very close now. Far too close for her to be happy about it. Without an accurate reading of her surroundings, though, she didn't want to take any potentially dangerous actions. From what Fait was saying, the place was literally crawling with organics. It was probably some sort of research lab, someplace where she could be studied and dissected like a lowly flesh and blood animal.

Fait, Gait broke into the Fleet AI's ramblings, Have you been in contact with Trianah?

... No. No, not since... do you think she was captured, too? What if she was destroyed? Gait, we'd be the only ones left! In all the universe, the only-

Gait was astounded more than she was annoyed. She'd never heard Fait sound so... It was hard to even put a name to it. The Fleet AI was definately frightened, definately on the edge of outright panic, and definatley not in her usual state of mind. She sounded, Gait decided, far too emotional.

Fait! she commanded sharply, Control yourself. Trianah can take care of herself. She no doubt managed to escape that debacle and will be searching for us. Do not concern yourself. What we need to concentrate on right now is freeing ourselves from these filthy animals.

The vibrations that spread throughout the hull of Gait's temporary body brought her attention sharply back into focus on what was going on around her. Somebody was doing something they shouldn't have dared try... somebody was trying to cut their way into her hull. That would not be tolerated.

*************************************************************

Overseer Stalik stood at the back of the hanger, watching as a team of engineers attempted to cut away a section of the mysterious ship's hull plating. It was a tried and true method of Xen'Chi scientific research... first specimin you got your hands on, you took apart and found out what made it tick. "What an interesting alloy," Stalik remarked to one of the other observers in the room. "Sensor analasys shows that it's a composition unlike any we've seen before. Highly conductive, and with the capability to absorb energy that no sane Xen'Chi starship designer would ever build into one of his creations."

"And quite resistant to damage," The observer noted. "Amazing."

"Once we get a sample," Stalik confided, "We'll have to subject it to a battery of tests to see just how resistant it is. If it proves superior to what our fleets are using now, we'll have made a valuable discovery. I'm sure it would be worth quite a bit of recognition."

"Overseer..." One of the technicians manning the sensor equipment spoke up suddenly, "The craft just exibited an energy spike in excess of two hundred percent-"

Stalik barely had time to be surprised before, with a whoosh of displaced atmosphere, the alien ship lifted from it's cradle and spun three hundred sixty degrees. The engineering team threw themselves to the deck to avoid being decapitated by the fighter dart's angled wings. Stalik took an involuntary step backward, not knowing how to take this sudden development. The warrior in him wanted to attack, to immediatly remove this new and unexpected threat. But the scientist in him understood that he would likely die in the process. And while there was nothing wrong with being killed in combat, being killed for no apparent gain didn't seem like such a good idea. Definately a waste of resources...

Stalik became aware that he, along with the entire research team, had no chance of stopping the fighter if it decided to do some serious damage to the hangar bay. Fortunately, the fighter didn't seem to be interested in wreaking havoc. In fact, it didn't seem to be interested in doing much aside from hovering above it's cradle and looking menacing. Perhaps, then, it wasn't the mindless automated killing machine Overseer Rison had thought it to be.

Being that the Xen'Chi weren't a species who did things in half measures, Overseer Stalik took a bold step forward. Literally. When the starfighter rotated slightly and edged it's front end downward to point directly at him, he didn't step back. He took one more step forward, eyeing the blaster cannons that could vaporize him in an instant should they fire. Stalik narrowed his eyes. "Well?" He demanded.

*************************************************************

Gait hadn't thought much of what she was going to do short of getting those blasted organics away from her hull. Turning a tight three hundred sixty degrees had taken care of that, but she now found herself in the presense of nearly a dozen humanoid creatures. Interestingly, none of them appeared to be heavily armed. In fact, few of them had weapons of any sort that she could detect. It would be a simple matter to kill them all and be done with it...

But now the AI's OIM was fully powered, and her connection to the force had deepened. What she saw through that second sight was the only thing that kept her murderous first reaction at bay. To a man, the force cocooned these creatures, swathed them in it's protection almost as if it was an ethereal safety blanket they clung to subconciously. She broadened her mind, swept the entire station with her thoughts. It varied to degrees by individuals, but for every life force she encountered it was the same. These creates had an innate ability with the force, though not the overt ability to control it. It was that lack of control more than anything else that stayed Gait's wrath. These organics, inferior flesh and bones though they were, could be useful... provided she had the ability to shape and mold them to her liking.

One of the humanoids stepped towards her. Gait focused her attention on it, moving her lethile mechanical body for the maximum psychological effect. The humanoid stood his ground, and uttered a noise. Gait assumed that it was a word. That assumption may well have been true, but it was a word from no language Gait had ever heard before. Given time and exposure to more of the spoken language she could no doubt decipher it and even speak it herself... but at the moment that wasn't an option.

Instead, she opted for the quick and easy path. Like a spear forged of pure conciousness, Gait forced her mind into his. He gasped aloud at the intrusion into the deepest recesses of his mind, momentarly blinded and paralyzed as his mind fought to repell the intrusion. Unskilled in the use of the force as he might have been, he did still control it. Like a physical reaction he attempted to use the force as a shield with which to block Gait's assault. It was a commendable effort for one untrained in the force, but it was ultimately ineffective. Gait had invaded and erradicated the minds of Jedi Knights, this one would be no trouble.

She stopped short of erasing his mind. At this point, it would serve no purpose. Instead, she settled into his conciousness like a weary predatory into a soft patch of grass. Well well, she said slowly, transmitting her words directly to Stalik's mind, aren't you interesting...

Physically, Stalik's eyes widened. "Contact the Temple on Ka'sra," he ordered hoarsly. For some reason, he found that speaking his own thoughts was somehow more difficult than it should have been. It was as if he had to force the words from his throat. "Tell them we require a Priestess here immediatly..."

If Gait had posessed a mouth, she would have smiled.
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

OOC:

Next time, on Fates Unfolding!

We'll learn more about the Xen'Chi religious structure, more about their unknowing grasp of the force, and we'll be introduced to the sexy-assassin side of the mysteriously missing Trianah. Stay tuned! 8)

*caffeine and Mark are a dangerous combination, boys and girls*
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

Commenor - Prior To The Jedi Convocation

They say the force is a conduit to many things. With proper concentration, you can see many things. Other places. The future, the past... old friends long gone.

Tossak Kas'Bek turned in his sleep, lavender fur bristling. Images filled the Bothan's mind, images of pain and suffering. He saw worlds subjugated, populations enslaved, fleets and armies destroyed... he saw the death of Jedi... he saw the rise of a dark, malevolent power.

And he knew it had happened before. Somehow, for some reason, he was seeing a vision of things long past. Yet even now the vision was changing. He began to recognize the worlds that were falling under the dark cloud of evil, knew them by name. There was Anaxes, it's grand cities in flame... and there
Balmorra... and now Kashyyyk, it's forrests turned to ash. Corellia, Bimmisaari, Rodia, Loris, Kuat, Thyferra, Tattooine, Tossak saw each fall to the darkness. And then he saw Bothawui.... Tossak's homeworld lay under seige, encircled by an enemy that was unbeatable. An enemy from the past and the future, one that would not be stopped. Even Coruscant would burn, it's towering buildings crumbling and collapsing onto those below... and Tossak knew he now saw the future to come. A future that, while always in motion, had the certainty of a coffin being lowered into the grave. The universe would fall to blood and ruin... unless...

Tossak rolled violently from one side to the other, blankets tangling about him. His brow furrowed, and he uttered a name. "Master Naton..."

He saw Naton, a Jedi whom he knew but had never met in person. Naton stood amidst the failing defenses of Coruscant, robes tattered and torn, blood spattered across one side of his face. It was only then that Tossak saw he was missing an arm. Severed at mid-bicep, it had not been a clean separation. Whatever had removed his arm had also cut deeply into the Jedi Master's side. But Naton stood despite his wounds, as did the two battle scarred Jedi beside him. The old warrior's cloudy white eyes seemed to bore into Tossak, willing him to see the scene of destruction and carnage around him. It was near the old Jedi Temple on Coruscant, the one that had been gifted to the Order by the Republic before the Empire had reclaimed it's capital. It burned in the weakening light of the day, sending plumes of thick black smoke into the sky.

There were more Jedi, Tossak saw now, arrayed in a rough circle around Naton and the other two Jedi. They fought with a fanatical ferocity, the desparate strength and energy of those warriors who know they will not live but burn with the desire to make their sacrifice count for something, anything.

Cameo's eyes burned into Tossak. "Warn them!" He yelled, the roar of wind and the din of battle nearly hiding his words. "Tell them she must be destroyed!" He shouted something more, something Tossak was sure Naton wanted him to hear, but the roar of the wind became too much. It drowned out every other noise, rising to a creschendo until he felt that his eardrums would burst...

The sudden silence was as deafening as the roar of the wind had been. Naton was no longer speaking. He and the two Jedi with him and turned, and were fighting several foes that had broken through the quickly failing ring of protectors. The scene blurred, became weaker in detail, and finally drifted away into blackness. And while he had not seen the outcome of the fight, Tossak was sure he knew what had happened. Naton, and the Jedi with him, had died. Or would die...

Another voice drifted through the darkness and into Tossak's dreams. It was smooth, seductive, female.... Little Jedi, it whispered, Come to me... An image flashed into Tossak's mind, one so disturbing it tore the Bothan from unconciousness before his mind even had time to process it. He woke feeling as if he'd been hit by lighting, his fur bristling in every concievable direction. Naton's words rang in his ears as concious thought took hold. "Warn them," Tossak murmered. "Warn them."

He left the tangled sheets of his bed behind him, took long enough to dress in his robes to make certain his hands and stopped shaking, and firmly placed his lightsaber on his utility belt. He glanced only briefly at the invitation to a Jedi Convocation at Midpoint. He had planned to go... but those plans had changed. Now he had a date with destiny.

*************************************************************

A'Shak Research Facility


Katim, Priestess of the Xen'Chi Chosen, regarded the A'Shak research station through her shuttle's forward viewport. Rank, as everywhere in the galaxy, had it's privileges. One of the priviliges of being a Priestess was that she had her own shuttle, complete with two warrior escorts and a pilot. The escorts were more for show than anything else... everybody knew a Chosen was the highest order of Xen'Chi warrior, one who could commune with the very essense of the universe itself.

Katim's brow wrinkled slightly as the shuttle neared the station. She had been at the Ka'Sra temple for their monthly rituals when an urgent message had been recieved. The A'shak facility had reported contact with a supernatural being... perhaps the essence of a Chosen long dead, they'd gone so far as to speculate. Katim did not waste time in speculation. She'd hurried to the research station, but even at full speed her shuttle had taken an hour and a half to get there. During that time she had attempted to meditate, only to recieve strange visions. They were images of destruction and conquest, but at times it had been hard to see who was doing the conquering. Some would have jumped to the conclusion that it was the Xen'Chi Dominion spreading it's influence across the galaxy... but Katim wasn't so sure.

And there, at the back of her mind, had been the feeling that something was wrong about what she was seeing. Somehow, the images imparted a negative conotation. Now that she was at the station, her shuttle approaching the entrance to the main docking bay, that feeling of wrongness persisted. The closer she got to the station, it seemed, the more the feeling grew...

*************************************************************

Trianah watched silently as the shuttle approached the station's hangar. Clinging to the side of the space station's hull, she had managed to avoid detection ever since her arrival. Despite knowing that Gait and Fait where captured and in potentially dire situations, the third AI had opted to remain silent and stationary, observing. When the Xen'Chi trap had first been sprung, she had opted to take a different tact than her sisters. While they had attempted to fight their way out, she had seen from the outset that it was a losing fight.

While Fait had tried to fight her way out, and Gait had sought to escape through the speed of a fighter dart, Trianah had opted to do what neither of her sisters could do. She'd abandoned ship. A nearby Xen'Chi cruiser had made for a nice transport through hyperspace, after that it was a simple matter of calculating trajectory to take her from the hull of the cruiser to the hull of the station.

The sheer overwhelming numbers of force sensitives on the station, on the cruisers, everywhere in the system had caused Trianah to be cautious. But now the time for caution was passing... in the shuttle ahead, Triana could sense a force user more gifted than the rest. If she was there to deal with Gait...

Razor sharp claws nearly four inches in length gouged their way into the station's hull plating. The time for observing was over... the time for formulating and implimenting a plan had come. She knew she was severely outnumbered. She also knew that if she did this right, it wouldn't really matter.

*************************************************************

Outer Edge Of The Commenor Star System

"Are you sure this is wise?"

Tossak looked through the cocpit canopy at the starfighter flying close formation with him. It was one of the newer XJ model X-wings, the kind which, for the moment, were granted exclusively to Jedi. It was like his except for the paint job, which was pretty much unique from Jedi to Jedi.

Ayan, the female Anomid politing the craft, raised one hand and flashed off a short sentance in the Anomid sign language. Born without vocal cords, the Anomid had developed their sign language to be as in depth and complex as any spoken language throughout the galaxy. The fact that they had six long, flexible fingers certainly helped.

Though Ayan had a mask that would transfer throat vibrations into words, it always gave a tinny, mechanical quality to her speech. She disliked it greatly, and preferred to use her native sign language whenever possible.

"I know, I know," Tossak replied to the message through his fighter's commlink. "I wanted to be there, too. Maybe they'll rebuild the council for good this time. But there's just something... the force is guiding me somewhere else," He said. "You don't have to come with me," he reminded her.

"I might as well go with you," Ayan replied, replicated voice devoid of emotion. "You might need somebody to get you out of whatever trouble you're getting into," She added. Though her mechanical voice didn't impart emotion, the force more than made up for it. He felt Anaya's friendship and affection more clearly than any words could have conveyed.

Tossak clumsily signaled his thanks to her with one hand. The fighters had reached the edge of the system's gravity well, and were ready to make their jump into the unknown. Whatever was out there wasn't good, Tossak knew... but he had to find out what it was. Find out, and somehow warn the Jedi at Midpoint... before it was too late.

*************************************************************

A'Shak Research Facility

Gait's attention immediately focused on the newly arrived Priestess. She was definately more attuned to the force than Stalik... moreso than anybody else Gait could sense on the station, in fact. She walked with a sort of confident swagger, bare hips rythmically moving from side to side. Gait's sensors swept the length of her body, noting the woman's health and physique. Yes... she would do nicely.

"What's going on here," Katim demanded as she came to a stop beside Stalik. The Overseer had not left the room since the moment Gait had entered his mind, had barely moved in fact. Stalik looked over at her. Priestesses wore just as little clothing as any other member of the race, it was just somewhat more ornate.

Streamers of thin cloth wound their way up her arms, attached at one end to the bracelets she wore on her wrists, and at the other to the collar of her shirt. Unlike the wraps that bound the upper torso of female Overseers, Priestesses wore simple strips of cloth that ran vertically to cover their chest, attaching to the collar at the top, and to a single string that wound around their midsections at the bottom. The effect was to leave their back fully exposed, displaying the prominent and ornate tattoo that marked them as a priestess of the Order of the Chosen. Male priests bore a similar tattoo, and like all male Xen'Chi didn't wear shirts at all.

"This... being," Stalik told her, motioning towards Gait, "It speaks to me without speaking." He gave her a level look. "It claims to be very powerful."

"And yet," Katim said, eyeing Gait's starfighter body, "It inhabits a machine. A machine we captured easily, no less."

Gait silently withdrew from Stalik's conciousness, focusing her attention on Katim. The woman was definately more attuned to the force, and somewhat more skilled in it's use, but she was still no match for Gait's prowess. The instinctive defenses she brought against Gait's invasion of her mind took only marginally longer to surmount. I inhabit this form, Gait hissed into Kalim's thoughts, Only for lack of a more suitable body. For the first few moments, Katim tried to scream. After that, there wasn't enough left of her mind to know how to scream.

Gait opened her eyes, and found herself kneeling on the floor, hands pressed tightly against the sides of her head. She blinked, slowly and akwardly lowering her arms. "Priestess?" Stalik asked in concern, and Gait felt a hand beneath her elbow, helping her to her feet. "What happened? Priestess?" Stalik demanded. This time, Gait did smile.

OOC:

More coming, writing even as we speak.

The rest of this is just going in a separate post... for sanity's sake, if nothing else.
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

Unknown Regions

Tossak's X-wing sheered it's way into realspace, stars swirling around it. Ayan's starfighter appeared nearby a second later, still in formation. The Bothan took a minute to look around. Nothing... again. This was the third jump they'd made so far, and still they hadn't reached their destination. Like a pressure at the back of his mind, Tossak could feel the force guiding him onward. Whatever danger the Jedi faced, it was still out there, somewhere ahead of him.

Of course, the Unknown Regions were notoriously difficult to navigate. All manner of hazards could turn a simple jump into a nightmare for just about anybody. Even with the aide of the force to guide him in plotting hyperspace jumps Tossak was finding things difficult. "We're getting close," He assured Ayan over the comm channel. "Just a few more jumps, and I think we'll be there."

"It can't be too much farther away," Ayan quipped, "If we keep making jumps like this we'll be past the edge of the galaxy in no time." There was a brief pause as both Jedi considered the conotations of that statement. "You don't think it's past the outer rim, do you?" She asked eventually.

Tossak thought about this. "No," he said at last. "It's here in the galaxy. Near the edge, maybe, but not past it. We're close." The Bothan turned his attention to his nav console. Letting the force guide his hands he'd input a new set of coordinates, and the jump computer had come up with a heading. "Ready for another jump?"

"Ready when you are," Ayan replied. "But," She added, "If we find a planet somewhere along the way I demand we stop and stretch out legs."

"Only if it's got atmosphere. Feeding you the new coordinates now. Jump in four... three... two..."

"Tossak?" Ayan said, just as they were about to jump, "I've got a bad feeling about this..."

The swirling blue and white tunnel of hyperspace enveloped the two starfighters, drawing them across the galaxy faster than the speed of light. Tossak, for his part, settled back into his seat and prepared for another long jump. The previous ones had been several hours each, and this one didn't seem to be any different.

*************************************************************

Tossak blinked a few times and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Squinting down at his starfighter's control panel, he noted that he'd woken up right on time - thirty seconds before reversion to realspace. The force made for a wonderful alarm clock. Stretching as best he could in the cramped confines of the fighter's cocpit, the Bothan reached out for Ayan's presence. She was nearby, and wide awake.

As the seconds counted down towards the end of the jump, however, Tossak became increasingly aware that something was wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the force was giving him the distinct impression that danger was rapidly approaching. Ayan had had the same feeling just before they jumped...

The hyperspace tunnel collapsed around the two X-wings, throwing them into realspace at incredible speeds. As the starfighter slowed to normal sublight speeds, the reason for the sense of danger became abruptly clear. "Evasive!" Tossak shouted, pulling his flight stick hard to the right and slamming down the lever that would open his XJ's s-foils. He needn't have shouted his warning - Ayan was already pulling a similar maneuver.

Alien starfighters - sleek, sharp edged, and black as space - roared past the Jedi's ships. Confronted with the abrupt appearance of two X-wings they were pulling high performance maneuvers of their own. Somehow they managed to avoid hitting each other or the X-wings.

"Emperor's black bones," Tossak cursed, "That was too close." His eyes swept over his sensor display, taking in the situation. He and Ayan had emerged amidst a formation of alien starfighters, and they weren't the only ones. A trio of massive obsidian warships were nearby, visible to the naked eye only as an area of space devoid of stars.

"They're turning back towards us," Ayan warned. She'd managed to get back into formation with Tossak, the two of them headed away from the capital ships. Her transmission had barely ended when a sharp burst of static announced the beginning of a broadband transmission. An alien language issued forth, one unlike anything Tossak had heard before.

He got the distinct impression that they weren't happy, whoever they were. That impression was confirmed when his astromech unit shrilled a warning, the high pitched tone that indicated a missile lock. "They're firing on us!" Ayan exclaimed, her starfighter already rolling into a complex pattern of loops and dives inteded to confuse any missile locks. Tossak followed suit, eyes watching the sensor screen as three, then four, then seven little yellow dots began to converge on his and Ayan's fighters.

"R4, put me on broadband transmission!" Tossak ordered hurridly, ramping his starfighter's engines into full military thrust. Quickly he flicked the switches that would activate his shields and weapons. When he got an acknowledging twitter of beeps, he flipped the appropriate switch and hurridly began speaking. "This is Jedi Knight Tossak Kas'Bek of the New Republic. My friend is Jedi Knight Ayan Yegaro, we come in peace. Please call off your attack. Repeat, this is Jedi Knight Tossak Kas'Bek, cease fire and we can solve this diplomatically. We mean you no ill will... Do you read me?"

"Shavvit," Tossak cursed. There would be no response, he knew. Species that shot first rarely bothered to ask questions, and this seemed to be the kind of species who preferred trespassers dead. Of the seven missiles that had been launched, three seemed to have locked themselves onto Tossak's fighter, the other four headed for Ayan. Think, dammit Tossak derided himself. The missiles were closing fast, there were only seconds to respond...

The bothan's foot slammed down onto the rudder peddles and pulled at the flight stick, sending his X-wing into a spinning roll that ended with his guns pointed at the incoming missiles. Killing his engines he allowed his momentum to continue to carry him backwards, away from the missiles as he zeroed in on one. With the force to guide his hand, it didn't take long. A staggered burst of cross-linked lasers spat at the incoming warheads...

There wasn't time for another shot. Even as one of the warheads exploded in a crimson fireball Tossak was pulling on his flight stick and goosing the engines. The X-wing rolled ninety degrees on the x-axis. One missle passed above the starfighter's canopy, the other hit it's target. Tossak was thrown against his harness, alarms warning him that his forward shields were gone. "Tossak!" Ayan's alarmed concern carried clearly though the force.

Tossak ignored her, and fought to regain control over his fighter. The impact had altered his fighter's course, sent it spinning briefly out of control. As he corrected, he punched the button that would even out his forward and rear shields. There wasn't much left, but it would help if he took another missile hit.

"Ayan," Tossak barked as he located the missile that had missed him. "Come around to point four three nine, cross my vector." Two clicks over the comm channel were Ayan's acknowledgement.

The third and final missile was looping around now, following a tight, fast arc that would quickly put it right back on the X-wing's tail. Tossak tried to ignore it and concentrate on the missiles that were after Ayan's fighter. She'd lost or destroyed one... but there were still three of them coming at her. Two were right on her tail and closing fast, the third had somehow contrived to come in from her three o'clock high.

Another shrill cry from Tossak's R4 drew his eyes briefly back to the sensor display. More missiles were inbound, five this time... but the alien starfighters themselves were closing in at a very leisurely pace... almost as if they wanted to see how the Jedi handled the next missile barrage.

"Crossing at point four three nine in five," Ayan announced. Tossak snapped his attention back to the missiles. Ayan's X-wing was right where it should be... his finger tightened on the trigger, sending a hail of crimson energy at the fighter. Ayan didn't even flinch. Her X-wing continued on it's course, putting the two missiles on her tail right into the path of Tossak's weapons fire. As soon as she'd crossed, Ayan executed a maneuver that put her guns on the three o'clock high. Firing quickly, she reduced it to so much slag.

Tossak realized too late that he was out of time. The third missile he had avoided roared in and slammed against his rear shields, overwhelming them in a rapidly expanding ball of energy and debris. Tossak was once again thrown against his harness, but this time things were more serious. A dozen harsh little red lights sprang to life on his dashboard, indicating the death or incapacitation of nearly as many systems. The shields had held long enough to keep his fighter from being destroyed, but they'd failed soon enough to allow serious damage to the rear portion of his X-wing.

He was spinning out of control again, but this time pulling on the flight stick had no effect. His eyes flew to the flickering sensor display. More missiles were incoming, and now he had no way to dodge...

"Ayan!" Tossak shouted, hoping his communications still worked, "Ayan, get out of here! Ayan!"

I will not leave you, Ayan's words reached him clearly through the force, along with the determination behind them.

The missiles soared closer, and all too clearly Tossak saw what Ayan planned. Moments before the missiles should have struck home, her X-wing roared past. The missiles locked on, ignoring Tossak's fighter in favor of Ayan's. The Bothan watched in horror as her fighter dodged and juked, whirled through loops and cut abrupt turns at odd angles. He dared not say anything, lest he distract Ayan from her maneuvers. But he could feel her strain through the force...

And then it happened. A missile she had already evaded finished it's sharp turn to reacquire her and came rushing back in at it’s target. Ayan, unaware of the danger, looped and turned to fire on a second missile. She realized the danger a split second later and, without firing, banked her fighter... right into the path of a third and final missile.

The three warheads converged on the starfighter in a brilliant explosion. Debries accelerated away from the point of impact, while larger chunks spiraled more lazily away. Tossak clenched his eyes shut and turned his head, afraid that he would see Ayan's mangled body among the debris. "No," He whispered hoarsly. "No..."

Eventually, Tossak opened his eyes. Looking at his flickering sensor console he expected to see more yellow dots converging on his starfighter. Instead, it seemed the alien fighters themselves were moving in for the kill. He waited, calming himself for the moment when he would become one with the force. That moment never came. The aliens starfighters soared past his X-wing without a flicker of weapons fire, looping around in the distance and heading back as if inspecting the shattered X-wing.

At last a shudder ran though the Bothan's crippled starfighter. A tractor beam, he realized. The fighters had been guarding his ship until one of the larger vessels had gotten close enough to capture him. Tossak's hand went to the lightsaber by his side. If they inteded to capture him for interrogation, they were about to get a nasty surprise...

*************************************************************

Tossak sat in his damaged X-wing, eyes darting about the hanger in which he'd been deposited. He dared not open the canopy... not without knowing whether or not there was atmosphere beyond. While he'd thought he'd seen magcon field generators around the mouth of the bay, he didn't want to take any chances.

Something moved at the far side of the bay. Focusing on it, tossak saw that a door had opened. Through it marched half a dozen large, muscular, and heavily tattooed men. They wore little save sandals and some well tailored loinclothes, but carried themselves with an air of men who had nothing to be ashamed of when it came to their outward appearance. And, really, Tossak couldn't disagree. They certainly were imposing.

It took a lot more than that to scare a Jedi, of course. Now knowing that there was atmosphere in the bay, Tossak pushed open his fighter's canopy and hopped to the deck below. He paid little attention to the battle damage his X-wing now bore, nor did he look twice at the mangled remains of his R4 unit. Instead he concentrated on the six men who were coming for him.

They spread out in a rough semi-circle as they neared, attitudes making it clear that they were ready to deal out bodily harm if their captive didn't cooperate. The warrior directly facing Tossak took one step away from his comrades. He spoke in the language that the Jedi had heard earlier. Though he still didn't understand it, Tossak knew it wasn't good. He narrowed his eyes. Detaching his lightsaber from his belt, he held it out to his side at waist level, thumb resting on the activation switch.

The apparent leader's eyes studied the lightsaber for a moment. Looking back at Tossak's face, he took another step forward and growled something menacingly. He was just out of arm's reach now. Tossak remained motionless, muscles coiling in anticipation of what would come next. "I mean you no harm," He told them as evenly as possible. "Even after the death of my friend, I am willing to resolve this peacefully." Only a slight twitch indicated the magnitude of self control it was taking to say those words so calmly. He concentrated on the force, trying to use it as a conveyer for the meaning that lay underneath his words. "I do not wish to hurt you," he said quietly, "But I will defend myself if I must."

There was a pause filled with uncertain meaning as Tossak and the lead warrior faced each other down. Please, Tossak thought, Let there be no more violence...

The warrior lurched foward, intent clear. Tossak's lightsaber blade lept into being as he spun away from the attack, weapon swinging up and to the side. There was a cry of pain, and the stench of burned flesh. Tossak stood where his strike had ended, lightsaber held before him in guard position. The lead warrior was sprawled on the deck, clutching the cauterized stump of his right arm and staring at where the severed limb lay a few feet away. Slowly, his gaze moved back to Tossak. There was a look in those eyes... Don't do it, Tossak emplored silently, Don't make me do this to them, too.

A barked order, and the remaining five attacked. The Jedi whirled to face the onslaught, blade already swinging out at it's first target. The warrior went down without a sound, a deep wound running diagonally from hip to shoulder. Using the momentum from the stike Tossak twirled on one foot, intending to bring the blade down on another enemy. He faltered as the warrior feinted unexpectedly, blue lightsaber blade barely missing a tattooed chest. As Tossak prepared to bring his saber back into guard position the doding warrior reversed momentum and lunged forward. Another came from the side, another dove for his feet... and the warrior with the severed arm, the force told Tossak, was coming up behind him.

He managed to down one warrior, but sheer weight of numbers bore Tossak to the deck. A hand with a grip like an iron vise clamped into the Jedi's wrist, tearing the lightsaber from his fingers and sending it clattering into the far wall. He felt a punch connect with the side of his head, and nearly lost conciousness. Another slammed into his ribs, and he knew they were broken...

It would have appeared, to somebody standing outside the melee, that a small, invisible explosion had gone off right about where Tossak was lying. Every warrior in the hangar was suddenly catapulted away from the downed Jedi and flung into the air. One hit the s-foil on Tossak's fighter, another slammed into the nearby wall. The others arced through the air and landed heavily on the deck. Tossak stood uncertainly, pain arching through his body from just about everywhere. Blood dribbled from his nose and lips.

But stood he did. As the recovering warriors watched, he raised his hand. The deactivated lightsaber turned itself on and flew ten feet into his waiting hand, blade humming menacingly. He braced himself for another attack, knowing he would have to kill or be killed this time. But the warriors, after picking themselves up off the deck, merely retreated to the far end of the hangar. There they formed a protective barrier around the door, and there they stood while one of their number left.

Maybe now they're willing to talk, Tossak thought. Some cultures were built around violence. This seemed to be one of them. It could be that prevailing when outnumbered six to one had earned him some sort of respect with these people. Maybe... maybe.

Tossak didn't deactivate his lightsaber.


*************************************************************

A'Shak Research Facility

"Your priestess is no more," Gait said in low tones as she stood with Stalik's help. The overseer looked at her with an expression that made it clear he knew what had happened - or thought he did. Gait nodded to him as she pulled her elbow away from his hand. "I have taken her form," She stated flatly.

"And you are...?" Stalik not quite demanded.

"I am Gait, Chosen of this universe, warrior of the galaxy made manifest... Our time has come." She smiled only inwardly now, as she spoke. Though she had ravaged the priestess' mind and assumed control, Gait had still left enough knowledge there to be of use. Nearly all of the woman's memories and knowledge had been left intact... merely her conciousness had been eradicated. And now that knowledge was going to help Gait get what she wanted out of these people.

Deep in the back of Katim's mind there was a text she had once read concerning warriors manifested and created by the universe itself, formed to lead the Xen'Chi to great victories. It made particular mention of them appearing to lead the Xen'Chi to their day of reckoning, the final victory or final defeat, when they would hold dominion over the entire galaxy or vanish from it in an apocalyptic battle. Interestingly enough it seemed that like most societies, there were good elements in the universe as well as evil ones. The Xen'Chi, of course, would be on the side of all that was rightous...

Stalik's reaction to Gait's pronouncement was remarkably stoic. Only the look in his eyes belied his calm facade. "What proof," he hazarded, "Can you offer us that you are truely Xa'Tieron?"

Gait merely looked to the door. She had felt somebody's approach, tasted their emotions as they approached. With any luck, she would be able to turn whatever news they brought to her advantage. Stalik followed Gait's gaze. The door opened a second later, and one of the men attached to Katim's shuttle came forward. "Priestess," He addressed her with barely a look at Stalik, "News from the temple at Ka'sra. A Chosen has been captured at the edge of our territory... it is odd. He is not Xen'Chi, yet he posesses gifts only known to our Chosen warriors. The temple has ordered that he be brought here, as we are closer, and that you should look into the matter."

The man bowed slightly to indicate apology for the interruption, and that he was finished. Gait nodded to him, and turned her eyes on Stalik. The overseer was looking at her in something approaching awe. "You see," Gait said with but a small hint of victory, "Subspecies with the power of the Chosen. The day is at hand, overseer... and I am here to guide you to victory." She turned her attention back to the messenger. "When he arrives, have him brought before me."

There can be only one creature they've captured, Gait thought. A Jedi, after all this time...

The door opened again, drawing Stalik and Gait's attention once more. The messenger turned as well, curious. A Xen'Chi guard walked in and looked around. There was something odd about him, Gait sensed, something...

Trianah?

Gait? Are you...? I felt you vanish, and feared you had been destroyed. When I sensed you again, you were weaker. And somehow different... I had not imagined you would be this different.

I knew you would survive the attack and come for me. As you can see, however, your assistance is no longer required... where did you get that body?

I found it near an airlock door two levels up. They won't be finding the original for some time, I imagine. Now that we both have disguises, I suggest we attempt to find a way to free Fait and leave this abominable place.

"No, I don't believe we'll be doing that." Gait said aloud, drawing confused looks from Stalik and the messenger. "Don't be afraid, Trianah... you may discard that form. They know what we are."

They do?

They believe me to be a mythical being, here to assist them in their war against the galaxy. Perfect, is it not? With your talents I'm certain you will have no trouble convincing them of the same.

Trianah's assumed form began to melt away and liquify as if it was a wax statue in a blast furnace. But instead of pooling on the floor, this wax reformed itself into another visage. For a moment it formed itself into a duplicate of Gait's new body, then changed again into a pale blue humanoid with green, almond shaped eyes. It was one of the creators, a female that Trianah had taken to impersonating during the wars. With it she had been able to cause no end of trouble. She doubted that these aliens would have seen anything like it before... and indeed they hadn't.

"Are there more of you?" Stalik asked, looking from Gait to Trianah.

"Oh yes," Gait replied. "And as luck would have it, she's very close by..."

Stalik looked about for a moment, as if he expected another 'something' to suddenly appear. When it didn't, he smiled slightly. "You," he ordered the messenger, "Contact Chil'a'Chin. High Consul Intic will want to know of this immediately."

*************************************************************

Xen'Chi Cruiser

The number of guards in the hangar with Tossak had nearly quadrupled, making it twenty to one. Five had been tough... twenty was impossible, even for a Jedi. And this time they'd come armed to the teeth. Knowing that fighting at this point would only lead to one outcome, Tossak had finally deactivated his lightsaber and reattached it to his belt.

Luckily, or rathar ominiously, the assembled army of aliens hadn't tried anything else. Not that a lack of attacks hadn't been welcome... it certainly was. But the lack of any kind of diplomatic effort had been worrysome. Tossak himself had given it a try, using the force to help get his meaning across. It had met with only silent, resolute looks from the guards.

So Tossak had waited, wondering what would come next. The ship's jump into hyperspace had been something of a suprise, one that got Tossak to wondering whether or not these aliens wanted to take him someplace specific after his demonstration with the force.

That appeared to be the case now, as the ship exited hyperspace. Through the magcon field could be seen a space station in orbit of a planet, cruisers of several shapes and sizes patrolling around it. "So," Tossak attempted communication one more time. "Take me to your leader?"

The shuttle touched down in the hangar bay not five minutes later. Tossak was herded aboard by the small army of guards and the shuttle's occupants, who gestured him to one of the seats. Since nobody inside the shuttle was armed, and since none of the guards followed him in, Tossak began to relax. Perhaps they wanted to talk after all. It would be hard to deal with these people, Tossak had to admit, especially after they'd killed Ayan. But as a Jedi Knight, the Bothan knew he had a duty to try. Especially if it meant find whatever it was he had to warn the Jedi Council about.

He was certain now that he was close, so very close... and as the shuttle moved towards the station, he knew he was getting even closer. Doubt and worry began to prey on Tossak's mind. Were these people what he'd needed to warn the council about? No, surely not... Naton had spoken of a woman in the singular. She must be destroyed, the aging Jedi Master had said, not they. One of their leaders, perhaps? Tossak's mind raced with possibilities. Was it a Sith lord? One so powerful she threatened the entire galaxy? It was always rumored that there were Sith our there, in the outer rim and the unknown regions. Sith who had survived the wars and even stayed hidden during Palpatine's reign, so they could come back again some day.

Or was it something else... something more sinister? Or merely something more alien?

Tossak's mind was still racing as the shuttle set down inside one of the station's hangar bays. He did his best to calm it, but there was a new worry. The force was warning him of danger... something dark and evil was nearby. And then he felt it... a presense, like an oil slick on the force. It was barely tangible, just a hint of it... but it was there. And then there was another, and another...

The shuttle's crew herded Tossak towards the exit ramp, keeping their distance from him as much as they could. Word must've spread about how he chopped off arms, the Jedi thought. But he wasn't here for that, and left them in peace. The shuttle's crew stayed behind as he descended the ramp into the hangar, and closed the door behind him. Though Tossak turned and glanced back at it, he kept his attention focussed on the hangar at large.

It was empty, save that foul presense...

Once he was off the ramp, Tossak folded his hands in front of him, interlacing the fingers. The shuttle's engines roared to life, and it left the bay. Completely alone now, it became clear this was not going to be a diplomatic meeting. Tossak's hand went to his lightsaber, detached it from his belt. He held it out at waist level, thumb once again on the activation switch. His fur began to bristle.

"Well well well..." The voice came from a shadowed corner of the bay, near a small starfighter. The fighter itself was nestled in a metal landing cradle, one designed for ships that had no landing gear of their own. Tossak turned to face the voice, saw a slender woman emerge. She was covered from head to sandled foot in ornate tattooes, much like the men Tossak had faced off against before. She wore clothing that was just as revealing, and walked as if she knew exactly what sorts of emotions her figure provoked in male minds.

Tossak lowered his guard slightly. The feeling of wrongness was still there, still present, but from where... surely not this dimunitive woman. Her presense in the force was strong, yes, but....

"Little Jedi," the woman said, and it was the same voice from Tossak's vision. He brought his lightsaber into guard position and activated it in one fluid movement. He backed slowly away from the woman, eyes searching the room for other threats.

"How nice of you to come and join me," The woman continued. "Oh, come now... there's no need for that. Put your weapon away, Jedi, you will not need it."

The woman continued to advance, and Tossak continued to step backwards. "Have the Jedi so fallen," The woman asked innocently, "that they can be pressured into retreat by an unarmed female?"

"I know some very dangerous females, thank you." Tossak spoke at last. He didn't know how, or why, but this woman... she was the one Cameo had spoken of. She was the one that would cause to pass what he'd seen in his vision.

"Ah, he speaks!" The woman exclaimed, and laughed. It was a laugh completely at odds with the malevolence he felt within her. "Speak to me more, Master Jedi... tell me how your order has grown these many years." Her eyes fixed on Tossak's lightsaber. "And grown you have... your order did not possess such weapons when last we met. Or is it something your species invented? I have not seen your like before."

"I'm Bothan," Tossak said shortly, realizing that he could not continue backing away forever. Yet standing still didn't seem to sit very well with him. If he stood still, the woman would get closer... What the frell am I doing? Tossak realized, I'm armed with a lightsaber for sith's sake!

"And this," Tossak explaned as he stopped moving backwards, "Is called a lightsaber, traditional weapon of the Jedi." Something else occured to Tossak as he spoke, something odd. Who was this woman, that she knew of Jedi but not lightsabers? Who was she that she did not recognize a Bothan when she saw one? "Come no closer," He commanded, "Or you'll get a demonstration of just how effective it is."

"Indeed?" the woman asked, taking another step forward. "I have offered you no harm, Jedi. Would you strike me down in cold blood?"

Tossak faltered mentally. What she said was true... she seemed to pose no direct threat to him. Yet the force and his own Bothan instincts were screaming at him that this woman was not only dangerous, but deadly. He decided on a compromise. Raising a hand, Tossak sent a wave of kinetic energy rippling towards the woman. To his surprise, she didn't fly backwards as he had expected. In fact, her hair didn't even stir.

The woman smiled. "I see you have not come so far as I had thought," She said. She made a sweeping motion with her hand, and Tossak felt the lightsaber tugged from his grasp. She raised her hand, palm forward, and the weapon went flying across the hangar bay. Tossak's attempts to retrieve the weapon met with no success. Stunned, he turned back to this dangerous woman.

"Open your mind to me, Jedi...."

Searing pain ripped through Tossak's head. He dropped to his knees, face contorted with the effort of resisting this new mental attack.

"Show me all that the Jedi are..."

Tossak cried out in pain, fell forward onto his hands.

"Show me their strengths..."

Tossaks cries of pain echoed off of the hangar's metal walls.

"Show me their weaknesses..."

Tossak fell to his side, writhing bodily at the mental anguish he was experiencing.

"Show... me... everything..."

Clinging to the last shreds of his sanity, Tossak reached out desparately for Cameo Naton... reached out for him and any Jedi he could find. "She must be destroyed!" He shouted aloud and through the force, echoing the words in his vision "Master Naton, she must be destroyed!" with the last of his will, he focussed on what he had experienced the last several minutes, and focussed on a name that came unbidden to his mind... Gait.

She stood above Tossak as the last shreds of his mind were swept away, and she smiled.

OOC:

So I skipped out on the "sexy assassin" thing for Trianah.... had to change plans. At least you got some skippy action and stuff.

To the Midpoint Thread!
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

Temple of The Chosen - Ka'sra

When speaking of the temple at Ka'sra, one has to be rather specific. The "Temple Grounds" encompassed an area that was the size and complexity of a major city; it was a sprawling expanse of dark red marble structures that varied in height from one story to ten or more. The "Temple Proper" was a massive stepped pyramid structure, the tallest in the city. It towered above all other buildings, leaving no doubt as to which was the most important.

Other lesser temples, arrayed around the Temple Proper, were referred to by name and purpose. The largest of them was only half the size of the Temple Proper, and in general they followed the same stepped pyramid scheme as their larger neighbor. A series of hardened dirt and gravel paths wound around and between all the dozen or so temples, connecting them to one another as well as the other buildings of the city.

Those other buildings varied widely in design and purpose. Some were used as housing for all the varied levels of the Chosen, others to house the city's monumental support staff. Some were used as storehouses, medical facilities, indoor traning arenas, instruction halls, or communal baths. Many of the smallest buildings clustered around the rectangular open fields that served as outdoor training grounds. Other buildings housed entertainment and the variety of servies that were needed to keep such a large city running.

The same hardened dirt and gravel paths that connected the temples to one another were found all throughout the city. Few vehicles were allowed within the city, and those that were present operated as public transportation. The one exception was the road that led from the starport at the souther edge of the city. Surrounded as it was by red marble storehouses, hangers, and terminals, it would have been indistinguishable from the rest of the city if not for it's large black landing pad.

A sleek black shuttle now lay at rest on that landing pad, it's engines mingling the last of their heat into the heat of the day. Ka'sra, like most inhabited Xen'Chi planets, had a temperature well above what other races would call comfortable. It was also volcanic... though not to the same extent as Chil'a'Chin. It's lava fields were more sedate, not prone to unexpected shifts or swells. The volcanoes that fed the fields did not belch ash and brimstone into the sky on a regular basis, as did those at the capital, and in fact the sun often shone on the polished marble of the city. There was even a healthy ammount of vegitation growing in areas the lava fields had not covered for some time.

The planet was coming out of it's volcanic phase, transitioning into a time when it would flourish with new life. In several hundred years, Chil'a'Chin might look much the same as Ka'sra did now.

A lone Xen'Chi warrior descended the shuttle's boarding ramp, taking all of this in with but a moment's contemplation. He had come from A'Shak with important news for the Order of the Chosen. Katim - now the Xa'Tieron known as Gait - was building an army the likes of which none had seen before. Using living but soulless matter she was able to imbue it with the essense of other Xa'Tieron, place that newly concious matter within the body of a machine, and create a formiddable warrior.

She had demonstrated it to Stalik at A'Shak, and the overseer had confessed that he was baffled by the processs. But baffled or otherwise he could not argue with the results... truely, Gait could summon warriors into mechanical shells.

And now she asked for more. More warriors, this time living Chosen to train under the Xa'Tieron known as Trianah, shapeshifter and sister to Gait. Under her tutelage she would prepare them to combat the minions of the universe's darker half, the Xa'Tieron that had been corrupted and twisted, who inhabited the bodies of inferior races and sought to destroy the Xen'Chi utterly...

The Je'dai.

The warrior walked from the landing pad towards the waiting transport. It would take him directly to the Temple Proper, where the Order's leadership was waiting for him. As it began it's slow, winding journey he could hardly restrain the feeling of expectation that flowered within him. All Xen'Chi lived as warriors, knowing that do survive in a universe of enemies they had to be prepared to face all odds... knowing that upon their death they would have to fight for entrance to the underworld itself. Who could refuse the greatest test of all?

The transport passed one of the open air training fields, and the warrior looked out upon dozens of his brethren as they practiced combat with their obsidian staves. When the Order's leadership put out the call, there would be no shortage of volunteers...
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

Droid Base Alpha Prime

Gait was well and truely pleased. Construction of a major droid fabrication facility was nearly complete. Some portions of it were already operational, processing raw materials from the dozen or so mining sites that had been scattered across the planet's surface. They were only the beginning... more were planned, and would be needed if plans for an orbital shipyard were to be implimented.

Right now it was a barebones facility. There were no ground based defensive turrets, no shield generators, no hangar bays for repositories of defensive fighters, no orbital weapons platforms. If not for the A'Shak space station and the Xen'Chi warfleet that protected it, Gait would not have considered leaving such an important facility so unprotected.

Gait frowned as she gazed through one of the facility's windows. In a concession to the Xen'Chi, she had instructed her driods to build hallways and life support systems into the base. The windows were another concession... for some reason, organics liked to have a view of the outside world. Even when that world was as inhospitable as this. No organic life lived on the surface of the planet A'Shak - named for the station and not the other way around. Constant dust and ice storms ravaged it's surface with high speed winds, necessitating a constant maintenance rotation for all worker droids who had to go out in the storms.

There were other parts of the facility that weren't so much concessions as things Gait herself had fancied. The central control chamber was one of them. Droids - both combat and worker - constantly manned the place. In the center was Gait's command chair, a design feature she'd taken from the bridges of the Creator's warships. It was more to show her status to the Xen'Chi that visited the facility than anything else. Though she'd taken an organic shell to better facilitate interaction with the Xen'Chi, she still retained her mental link to her minions. It extended even to the systems of the facility itself, giving Gait completely control over everything.

Silently Gait went over the things that had yet to be constructed. A large hypercomm array was under construction, with elements both on the surface and in orbit with A'Shak. Once complete, it would allow nearly instantaneous communication between Alpha Prime and elements of the droid fleet that would soon be abroad. A larger growing facility was also in construction. The organic material that organic intelligence matrices used was a particular brand of tissue, painstakingly designed by the Creators to form the most effecient neural net possible when meshed with synthetic material.

As such, the organic portion of the OIMs had to be independantly grown in special conditions before being used in the construction of new AIs. At first Gait had used samples taken from her droid fighter's OIM, using it to demonstrate to the Xen'Chi how she could create new droids. Now there were three dedicated labs growing the stuff within Alpha Prime. What would become the main lab would be housed in Alpha Secondary, a separate facility near the planet's southern ice cap. Once the organic material was grown and intigrated into an OIM it needed nothing more than a power supply to nourish it, but during the growing phase it needed a plentiful supply of water in order to reproduce rapidly.

The door to the control center whooshed open. Gait turned her head to see who or what had entered, and saw Trianah approaching. She'd reverted to her combat droid aspect, only taking on an organic appearance when Xen'Chi were present. "Fait has interesting news, sister." She reported. "She reports that she has found one of the battle droid transports we lost between the the initial battle and the ambush."

"Excellent. It's cargo and it's AI will be a welcome addition to-"

"The AI was not aboard," Trianah interrupted.

"Go on..."

"Fait reports that she located transport VX2294 with long range scans, roughly along the jump path we'd taken. As surmised, it's hyperdrive engines must have taken damage during the battle and failed in transit, leaving the ship stranded. As Fait entered the area, however, she observed an organic warship in close proximity. She launched fighters, but the warship fled into hyperspace. Upon inspection of the crippled transport and multiple attempts at contacting the controlling AI, Fait found the OIM intact. The controlling AI's program, however, was not present. It is possible that she was captured."

"Hm. Even if she was captured," Gait thought aloud, "They will be able to gain little knowledge of our current location or status from her. This does show that they are persuing us."

"By the time they find us, our shipyards and fabrication facilities should be in full production. And with the Xen'Chi committed to our cause, we have further protection. The enemy will not find us an easy target."

"Still," Gait decided, "The sooner we begin to spread out the better. A Beta headquarters would also be useful. Remember the lessons we learned fighting the Creators. One well executed strike will not cripple us this time."
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

The defensive systems were now in place, and Gait felt all the better for it. Despite the fact that she was manipulating the Xen'Chi to her desires, she still harbored an innate distrust for anything made of flesh and bone. Organic creatures were hardly logical... one never knew what rash and unpredictable decisions they would make next. Today they supported Gait... in weeks or months they might turn against her. She needed to be ready for that betrayal when it happened.

The installation of planetary shield generators and ground based weapons platforms went a long way towards that preparation. The hypercomm array was a more complicated endeavor... it was still under construction, and would be for quite some time. The same held true for the orbital shipyards. No matter how many worker droids and overseeing AIs Gait assigned, the work could only go so fast. It was vexing, but understandable. And Gait was patient. As long as she had the Xen'Chi in her sway, time was not an issue...

*************************************************************

Chil'a'Chin

High Consul Intic was intrigued. Word had spread like wildfire across the Dominion, word that a Xa'Tieron named Gait had surfaced at the remote research facility of A'Shak. Rumors were already spreading that the Dominion's final test was fast approaching.

Intic was as religious a man as any Xen'Chi, and news of this nature was something he wished to investigate further. Claims like this could not be taken lightly... but neither were they cause to overreact. Granted it was certainly stirring the fervor of warriors across the Dominion, and that was good, but it could also lead to rash and uneducated decisions if not handled properly. Intic wished to meet with this Gait personality, who he understood had posessed the body of a priestess. He also understood that she was creating an army of mechanical warriors, infusing the souls of the dead into killing machines that only she knew how to fabricate.

It was that last bit that worried Intic. Such a thing had never been heard of, and it seemed... well, wrong. The high consul finished drafting the orders. A cruiser would be dispatched to A'Shak, it's Precept charged with contacting Gait and bringing her to Intic for an audiance. He had received word that the Order of the Chosen also wanted to meet Gait... but they could wait.

As could Overseer Nelai. Ever since her new Thrall Fleets had arrived with orders to prepare for an expansionary assault the woman had been increasingly impatient. Requests to begin the operation had become a weekly occurance, and Intic was just about ready to tell her to begin. But not yet... the assault on the races around the Chiss territories was not yet complete. Only when it was finished - or when it became clear that the Chiss would not let it continue - would Nelai be given the order to go ahead with her attack.
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
Devil Duck
Posts: 1791
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 6:29 pm

Post by Darth_Kuangduk »

Orbit Above Chil'a'Chin

Gait would have marveled at the fleets amassed around the Xen'Chi homeworld, had she not seen much larger concentrations of warships during her war with the Creators... and during her first encounter with this new timeline. Instead of marvel, she felt only annoyance. To be called from the amassing of her droid armies so she could satiate the curiosity of an organic? It was infuriating. Infuriating, but nessecary. She needed to keep these particular organics on her side, at least for the time being.

So she had come to Chil'a'Chin at the behest of High Consul Intic - an elderly warrior that her host body's memories revealed to be the uncontested leader of the Xen'Chi.

"We're currently awaiting clearence to launch your shuttle, Lady Gait." Gait nodded silently, not looking at the Prefect who had spoken. She stood on the bridge of the cruiser Kech'An, arms folded, eyes gazing through the formations of obsidian warships and down at the red veined planet that was Chil'a'Chin. Had to believe any organic being could have the fortitude to survive on such a world, she told herself silently.

Idly, Gait let one hand lower to her side. Her fingers brushed the cold metal handle of the lightsaber she wore there, a trophy from the Jedi she had slain as much as a weapon. While she had specialized droids, equppied with energy blades and small deflector shields to combat the Jedi, these organics had nothing that could stand up to an energy blade. The obsidian staves and blades favored by many for hand to hand combat, while forged in extreme heat, would melt away like anything else. It was one of many issues Gait intended to remedy.

There was a subdued conversation to one side of the room. "Lady Gait, we have been given permission to launch your shuttle. A flight path has been designated and will be kept clear for the duration of your journey."

Gait nodded wordlessly. She left the bridge of the warship in silence, having not spoken once since her arrival.

************************************************************************

The two hulking warriors that met Gait at the landing platform did not serve to impress or intimidate her. She knew she could reduce their minds to mere whisps if she so desired, and her mastery of the force would trump their instinctive grasp of it in any physical contest.

To their credit, they followed her lead and spoke not a word as they escorted her to Intic's offices. The old man stood as Gait entered, his eyes looking her over as if he were a predator and she his prey. "Welcome, Gait." He addressed her without using the informal title many Xen'Chi had decided to confer upon her. Here, she knew, he saw her as his subordinate and not his spiritual superior. That, among other things, marked High Consul Intic as a dangerous man in Gait's mind. He would not be easily manipulated...

"It is my honor to be here, High Consul." She attempted flattery as the two guards left. Gait, noting the usual lack of furniture, remained standing as Intic was.

"Indeed," Intic said dryly. He motioned for Gait to sit, and went about doing so himself. Gait did as suggested, folding her legs crosswise. "They tell me that you are a Xa'Tieron," Intic got straight to the point. He kept his tone neutral - Gait could not tell whether he believed the claim or not. "Is this so?"

"It is," Gait answered boldly. Intic nodded thoughtfully.

"Ah, I see. And you have been creating an army of mechanical warriors, using the souls of the dead to power them?" Intic inquired. His eyes narrowed only slightly. Gait could tell that this issue was a point of some interest to him - much more so than whether or not she claimed to be a devine being. It said a lot about his priorities.

"This is also true," Gait replied. Now was as good a time as ever... "The final test is nearly at hand. Conflict draws nearer to the Dominion on all sides. We will need these droids to assist us in the coming conflict." She noted a change in Intic's position, and tried to follow his thoughts. "It will give even the honorably deceased a chance to help decide the fate of their people, alongside those warriors that live today."

"Most interesting," Intic commented. "Tell me, Gait, why should I believe these claims? What proof do you have for me that you are who and what you claim to be? While many of my people seem to believe your claims, I will need something more substantial... especially if I am to heed calls from some of my fleet commanders to dispatch our warfleets to A'Shak in preparation for a conflict that I see no evidence of."

Gait smiled slightly. So already there were movements to give her more power... excellent. "I have powers beyond that which any Chosen has ever mastered," Gait told Intic. "I could tear this building down with a thought, kill a legion of your best warriors, turn the minds of your best commanders in on themselves..." her smile turned as predatory as Intic's, "Or, I could do it to the enemies of the Dominion."

"Bold words," Intic growled, "For one in such a precarious position."

Gait had been waiting for this moment. Standing, she stretched one arm out and chaneled the force into Intic's intricately carved stone desk. It levetated, gliding effortlessly several feet into the air. Intic, taken aback for probably he first time in his life, hastily stood and stepped back. Gait clenched her fist, and the desk split down the center. A wave of her hand sent the two pieces slamming heavily into opposite walls. The noise caused the guards who had escorted Gait into the office to rush in from the hallway, staffs ready. One fell victim to a torrent of electricity, cracking blue bolts that lept from Gait's fingertips to embrace the hapless guard. He jolted backwards off of his feet, every muscle in his body twitching.

To his credit, the second guard rushed on, heedless of the danger, ready to strike at Gait. She ceased her torrent of lightning, never having wanted to kill it's victim in the first place, and gripped the second guard around he throat as she'd gripped the High Consul's desk. The man lifted off of the ground, feet kicking, staff clattering to the floor. He choked and sputtered, hands gripping at hands that didn't exist for the several seconds Gait held him aloft. Then she let him drop.

"Impressive," Intic's voice rose from behind her. "Most impressive... but did you really have to destroy the desk?" Gait turned to find Intic smiling, though he still looked ruefully at the remains of his desk. "You have succeeded in convincing me." He held up one hand as Gait sensed the second guard stand and take hold of his staff. "You may leave," Intic told him. Then he frowned. "Is he...?" He asked, motioning to the warrior Gait had electrified.

"He wasn't badly damaged," Gait replied without looking. "The burns should be superficial and will heal in time. His muscles will stop twitching momentarily."

"A very nice display, I must say." Intic acknowledged. "If that is any indication, then our enemies are soon to be in great trouble."

"Not as much as you may think," Gait fumed. "There are those on the other side of the coming conflict who have powers similar to my own. While they are not as strong in power, they make up for it in numbers."

"Then we have a problem," Intic said thoughtfully. "Unless through our own numbers we can overcome them."

"That is a possibility. However, there is another answer. With training, some of the most talented of the Chosen can obtain power enough to help us defeat the Je'dai. While it will be nowhere near the level of my own, it may be enough. In numbers, it will surely be enough."

"And you propose to teach them?"

Gait nodded. "My sister Trianah and I would, yes."

"Trianah... the shape shifter?" Intic asked. That story in particular had intreagued him. The stories about Gait were true, then the stories about Trianah were likely so. The thought of somebody able to pysically change their appearance at will was an amazing idea. During a war, it would have infinite uses...

"Yes," Gait answered simply. "We will need to start soon if we are to have enough Chosen trained before the conflict begins. I had hoped to be at their temple on Kas'Ra by now..."

"Then go," Intic ordered. "And take the Kech'An with you. From now on, the ship is yours to command."

Gait bowed slightly at the waist, and left the office. After she had gone, Intic allowed his expression to fall into one of extreme displeasure. Gait had proven herself to be a double edged sword... no one with that much power could be trusted. He would let her train the Chosen, and fight whatever conflict was coming... but after that, she would have to go.

Once he was certain Gait was out of earshot, Intic retrieved a communication device from the ruins of his desk. Finding the device undamaged, he activated it. "Get the the Prefect of the Kech'An.... now."
"Ah, my lord, is that... legal?"
"I will make it legal."
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Well, I Might As Well

Post by xfiend1013 »

[Planet A’Shak]

The blackened canyons of hardened lava cut across a scab of a landscape, riddled with red cracks splitting the surface into webs of fractal patterns. Yellow gases, acidic and noxious, were whipped from the vents by the howling wind, blowing over three hundred kilometers per hour, carrying rolling bits of cooling lava, blowing up vast “waves” of rock as the lava cooled.

And in this acidic, thermal hell, three thousand kilograms of mining droid was suddenly sheared from the trough of the geologic wave, slamming into the porous rock, cracking apart. In a moment the winds had shredded it into slivers of metal that were now being worked into the rock.

Gait watched, from the vantage point of the droid, and took a list of all the readings the sensors captured. The acidic winds, the thousand-year storm that blasted this corner of the planet, it was nearly completely inhospitable. Only a few tenacious microbes lived on the surface of A’Shak, but here in the rolling lava sea, they consumed the rare minerals created by the harsh environment, and excreted a valuable alloy. Gait wanted the alloy to perfect her personal organic intelligence matrix, a massive computational machine that could allow her to leave the pathetic brain she was borrowing, and inhabit a true mind.

That meant perfecting the mining droids. A small task, but one, she found, that even some of her more advanced AIs were having trouble with.

She let the data filter, through the force, into one of the nearby OIMs, allowing it to do the computational work that her current brain found difficult. But she provided the ideas, the drive – and the OIM set about to do the complicated mathematics.

She opened her eyes, feeling oddly drained from the task of experiencing the destruction of the droid and its intelligence. A part of her own intellect, nonetheless.

But a purposefully disposable bit.

Gait blinked a few times, watching Trianah, who was testing the new hypercomm array. It was not yet fully functional, but they had been receiving transmissions from the battle at Ord Mandell, recently turned in the favor of their allies.

“You know, the Xen’Chi call their alien fleets, the species under their dominion “thralls.” Trianah said.

“I am not familiar with the etymology.” Gait said. Linguistics were more Trianah’s specialty. “Though I know it indicates the willing submersion of ones will to the will of another.”

“In the case of the Xen’Chi the ‘entrallment,’ as they call it, must occur through the use of incredibly violent force only worth thralls will survive.”

“The madness of these sentient organics amazes me. Soon, though, the horded refuse of Ord Mandell will be assembled into a fleet with which to support our droid forces.” Gait turned to her ‘sister’ and the hypercomm terminal.

“Trianah, you will go to Ord Mandell and see that the automated factories that are part of the Xen’Chi reinforcements are properly constructed and supplied with scrapped robotic materials. We will need to join the assets there with the assets Fait has created near the Corellian system – without the knowledge of our… enthralled allies.”

Trianah did not turn, she merely shifted her shape so that she was facing Gait. “I will confer with Fait on the best force to bring with me. I look forward to some of her more advanced creations – I hear the environment of the system allows for interesting manipulations of matter that she has used to her advantage.”
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The Chosen

Post by xfiend1013 »

The corpse of the Chosen was still kneeling in front of Gait, his scarred, tattooed hands reaching for the smoldering holes that had once been his eyes. Putrid smoke curled from the sockets, the same sick ashen color that his body had assumed.

Gait stood there, disgusted. She had been training the Chosen for weeks now, molding them into dark jedi after her own image; she was disappointed in their lack of progress. Recently, she had begun forcing the knowledge and training into their minds.

Usually, it worked. Occasionally, the Chosen would go insane, or have his or her mind turned in upon itself. The insane were locked away, allowed to hone their abilities in the force safely away from Gait and her sisters.

Gait felt that the insane, twisted Chosen were dangerous weapons, best to be saved for desperation – or for wicked tortures of captured foes. Even from here, she could, at times, catch mental glimpses of the asylum she had constructed on the surface of A’Shak, or hear word of the insidious manners in which they had destroyed one of the droids that maintained the place.

She briefly imagined imprisoning one of the Jedi in that place, that twisted, hellish maze of the force. It brought her a joy she felt to be somewhat irrational.

Perhaps I’ve been spending too much time in the company of Trianah. Trianah had always seemed to be somehow… in tune with organics, to the point that Gait often questioned her logic.

Still, her logic was impeccable. It was Trianah who had devised the asylum on A’Shak, and Trianah who had calculated the optimal efficiency of the training program. The insane inmates of the asylum had been assigned a value, the trained dark warriors a higher value, and the untrained chosen a third.

Here was the forth value, the lowest – the rejection of the mind wipe. The Xen’Chi were naturally gifted in the force, protected by it. When one of their Chosen, despite their limited training, was able to reject Gaits’ mental assault, it created a cascade of force energy, enough to cook the body from the inside.

Trianah calculated that it would happen once out of every hundred Chosen. She had trained one hundred and eleven now, and this was the second corpse she had encountered.

Not enough of a margin to stop the program. There were over five hundred Chosen on Chil’a’Chin, now seven had lost their minds, and two had lost their lives.

Gait appreciated those odds. Soon, the chosen would be skilled enough to take up lightsabers and allow Fait to train an army of anti-jedi droids. More would be lost there – but, Gait reminded herself, those who died in training, and those who died throwing themselves against the Jedi, were simply organic foes she would not have to irradiate later, in the upcoming purge, the eradication.
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Post by corsos »

High Consular Intic stood atop his dais overlooking the shining black obsidian round table, where every Consular in the Xen Chi Dominion sat. The last time this type of convocation had taken place was before the cessation of hostilities against the Chiss, and the decision to invade the known galaxy. And this meeting was even larger, the walls of the chamber were lined with Overseers, Priests and even the occasional Precept. All were Xen Chi, all but one. Intic eyed the interloper with not only suspicion but with absolute ire. The one that was once known as Banner Ton had undergone the treatments developed specially at the A’Shak by the always creative Overseer Stalik. Intic had agreed to the procedures, but only because of their past failures at placing humans into Thrall fleets. It was a combination of genetic manipulation and special conditioning by the Priests that turned the former human into the being To’Barren that stood at the council meeting.

At first glance he appeared to be Xen Chi, with his ashen coloration and dim red eyes. The only thing that showed him to not be truly Xen Chi, besides his genetics of course, were his lack of tattoos. He would have never been allowed on Chil’a’chin, but this was not the homeworld, no, this was but perfect duplication of the one found there. This meeting was taking place on Vortex – one of the human worlds subjugated by his warriors. Intic didn’t agree with it, but it was under the request of almost half the Council, who wanted to meet this Thrall that had taken the two most valuable systems in the early part of the invasion, Thyferra and Yag’dhul. Other notables lined the walls, the Overseer Stalik stood next to his creation, and beside him Nelai, one of their greatest fleet commanders.

The true reason for this meeting was to discuss and determine the strategy going forward with the invasion. In typical fashion the Council and the Overseers preferred and overly aggressive tact, they were overconfident. It was the same as it was with the Chiss, which was why Intic had kept that secret from them for so long. The Chiss had at best stalled them, at worst repelled all Xen Chi attacks. Now, they were going to try and make the same mistake, be brazen in their actions and overcommitt their forces. Intic had a better way, and he would dictate it to them now.

The secondary reason for the convocation was for the Council to lay their eyes on the Xa’Tieron, the one of prophecy to lead the Xen Chi to total victory over their fiercest and most storied adversaries. She was a reason for this overconfidence and the Council yearned to see their messiah, and put her to use. Intic was pleased with his initial meeting with the Priestess that was once named Katim, she was satisfactorily subservient and since had maintained her presence quietly, staying at her temple on Ka’sra. In fact this was the first time she had even entered the space of their future Thralls.

Intic wiped the sweat from his wrinkled head, and then stood his bones creaking. The High Consul was the oldest member of the council, perhaps the race, so old he remembered the withdrawal from Chiss, something everyone else had forgotten. Now they would fight this Galactic Empire and its allies… ruled by one of the Chiss, one expelled by them for his own greatness… Thrawn. He longed for the days he could lead his people as a full warrior, but he would have to settle for leading them from his chair.

“Council, loyal soldiers of the Xen Chi we have won many victories and moved our forces deep within the space of our enemies.” His voice was still strong despite his age, but still nothing compared to his will. His words were met by excited shouts and the thumping of the guards war staffs. “But we have not yet fought their strongest fleets, or seen their greatest resistance. They have now garnered their forces, and have prepared for us. We are set in prime position strike at many of their most valuable assets, including Borleais, Kuat, Fondor, Corellia, Kashyyk and Mon Calamari. They have massed their fleets and lay in wait, so afraid of our forces that they will not leave their homes.”

More chanting and beating of warstaffs followed. Intic spoke over them. “We must exercise patience, and grant them their wish of full frontal attack. Our losses would be great, even though we would have our victory. Losses that would be too difficult to recoup for the mission against our true enemy.”

These opinions were not met with quite the same enthusiasm as his earlier ones. In fact it was complete silence. “Our path to victory lies in destroying the temporary solidarity of our enemies. They will turn on one another and we will take what is left. It will take time, and we must arrange defensively until the time is correct. Overseers, direct your vessels.”

“Excuse me, High Consular, I do not agree with your opinions.” It was a low female voice, but the sentence was spoke with complete confidence.

“Xa-Tieron, you are here by invitation and have not bee granted permission to speak, take your place.” Intic ordered. Despite her claims Intic would not be bullied by this Priestess. He had led this race to victory after victory for decades.

“I will take my place Intic, if you would simply remove yourself from my place on the dais.”

His eyes lit up like fire, and Intic lifted his voice. He sounded like a young man again. “You speak treason Xa-Tieron. Be silent or be removed.”

“I challenge you to find someone to carry out that order High Consular. I have been brought here because of your ineptitude. It was your secrets that brought us our only defeat against the Chiss… and your cowardice now will bring us another defeat. I am the Chosen One, High Consular. I am destined to lead our people. You are in the way. Step down, now, and you will live through this.”

“Seize her now.” Intic ordered. No one moved, except Councilor Orim’ataal who stood at his place at the council table.

“It is time for the Chosen One to take her place High Councilor.” She was already walking up the dais.

Intic turned towards the Xa-Tieron who was now next to him. “I will not let you take this race into ruin.”

“You received your warning. Now, you are ruined.”

With smooth flick of her wrist, a lightsaber was remover from her robe and activated, the purple blade removing the High Councilor’s head. Intic’s body was lifted, as if floating on air and thrown onto the obsidian table between all the Councilors. All brave Xen Chi, none reacted with any sort of panic.

“Soon our enemies will join him!” Xa’Tieron proclaimed.

All agreed, and cheered their new leader.

ooc Neuge will update the map with all the new Xen Chi territory tonight.
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Post by corsos »

ooc the new map is up

To'Barren was surprised to be invited to the meeting of the Overseers, considering his position as a mere thrall. It would have been a mistake for them not to invite him, considering his successes and knowledge of their enemy. He was happy to see this new leader understood merit, and ability won wars, not common blood. Even more suprising was the fact that the Council was not within the confines of the meeting. It was only the Xa'Tieron and the Overseers, most of which were looking at To’Barren with as much contempt as they would look upon their enemies with. The only one he knew of was Overseer Nelai… the others were unknown to him.

“Overseers, you are the backbone of this war effort, I see this, despite the Council’s belief that it is their decision, and opinions at the center of this war.” She said, looking over all of them. To’Barren couldn’t help but be partially aroused by this “Chosen One”, with her extraordinarily revealing priestess garb and assertive way of speaking. But there was also something not quite right about her… something different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was not right with her.

“These humans will fall before the wrath of the Xen Chi, and you will serve them their fate. Tell me, Overseer To’Barren, what is it you think our course should be.”

If it was any other man, the stares and looks of disgust on the faces of the other Xen Chi overseers would have caused hesitation, perhaps even fear from the target of them. To’Barren, though, even managed a grin to accompany his swagger as he stepped forward to the projected galactic map. “The great conquest has sweeped through and taken a good portion of the known galaxy, but it seems as though we have avoided engaging the enemy in any battles for meaningful systems, except of course at Thyferra and Yag’dhul. Of course those only took place because I was allowed the initiative to do what I thought prudent, with my thrall fleet.” He let the words hang there, letting his own arrogance wash over him and the others in the room.

“Now it seems we have the freedom to pursue that again, and at a perfect time when we are on the doorstep of several major systems. With the positions of our five main fleets, the most likely targets for our further incursion should be Fondor, Borleais, Corellia, Kashyyk, and Yaga Minor. Yaga Minor and Fondor are two major shipyards for the Galactic Empire, and Borleais and Kashyyk are doorsteps to the two great capitals of Coruscant and Mon Calamari respectfully. Victories at these systems would assure us a continued battle.”

Overseer Nelai spoke up immediately after To’Barren was complete. “These are the most heavily defended worlds in this galaxy, besides the Capitals. We would lose many warriors and victory would come at a great cost.”

“Are you so afraid of death that you would sacrifice victory to avoid it?” The Xa Teiron said to Nelai, who quickly quietly. “Great victory can only come at great risk.” She said, looking at To’Barren and then to the other Overseers. “Destroy our enemies, we will bathe in their blood. Go, your orders will be awaiting you on your command ships.”
The five Overseers all bowed, and left the room. To’Barren would have been the last one to leave, but the Xa’Teiron voice stopped him in his footsteps. “Remain for a moment, transformed one.” The obsidian door slid shut in front of the overseer, who turned to face his master. “I know you are, human.”

“Not a human anymore.” He answered.

“Aye, and be grateful for it, for you now serve a power so much greater than yourself it is inconceivable to your petty consciousness. But I did witness your prowess at the system you call Corellia. It was most impressive… few have been able to level such a decisive blow to my constructs, and to our sister, what you call Centerpoint Station.”

Sister… the Xen Chi are related to those robotic ships we fought… that destroyed my Death Star and took away my total victory there? This is what found the better of me?

To’Barren felt his anger bubble but he kept quiet, but this woman, this alien priestess seemed to take pleasure in his emotional response. She smiled.

“You have chosen the winning side, and will find great power when it is all finished, do not fear for your legacy. It is sealed. You have defeated your people and you will again, for me. You will be rewarded for your victories, of which there will be numerous, do you understand?”

“I understand.” To’Barren could not even consider a different response, there was no other response possible. He would serve this woman, the Xa’Tieron, and he would bring her victory. Everything he would do would be for her.

“Go then, bring me my victories.”

To’Barren left the room, his loyalty now completely secure.

“They are so pliable… like blank computer chips ready to be written upon.” The whisper came from the dark corner of the room, where a sleek black battle droid revealed itself.

“Yes.” Gait answered. “He is ours, and he will bring death to the humans, and to the Xen Chi. And when it is, we shall have true dominion over what is left.”

“You did nothing to the others.”

“Their loyalty is to their race, and to me, for I am their messiah. It was not necessary.”

“What of this city of the Jedi we have found, they are the greatest danger to our return. We saw what the one did at the research facility, and he was the weakest of them.” Trianah said.

“Yes… they will fall victim next. It is time for our army to be given its first death.
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Post by corsos »

Gait felt increasingly uncomfortable in this mortal suit she was forced to wear, but knowing it would lead to the return of their race to control of the galaxy made it worth it. How the creators would feel knowing their greatest enemy would use their mortals against them proved what humans would call humorous. Gait preferred the term irony, a reversal of fortune that would lead to their final victory.

But there was something that plagued the mind of GAIT, the ultimate riddle that plagued her thanks to this connection to this entity known as the force. The humans had learned some level of mastery over this energy, nothing of course to the level GAIT had managed, but moreso than her Xen Chi Chosen. These Jedi could be a true threat, and one that had to be struck and eliminated early before a true counter could be mustered in any sort of combined assault.

The force led her to a remote world that would allow her to test her new droids, and Xen Chi Chosen warriors. An entire continent and city on a world occupied by Jedi of varying strength. Feeling them through the force was simple it was being used so freely in such multitude. It was time to show them such a city would not exist, not in what the galaxy would soon become. A more perfect test, and better example of destruction could not be found anywhere.

The Jedi would be culled into fear... this would do it.
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Post by corsos »

Overseer Nelai had wondered why she had been chosen for this particular purpose. After all, it was To'Barren that during his transformation that promised he would find the large starship that he had referred to as the Cleansing. It was an offer of absolute desperation by the human, and Nelai had been ready to execute him, but Xal'Tieron had taken an interest in the ship and its inexplicable escape from Ord Mantell, despite being inside a gravity well. So To'Barren was allowed to live but was not given the joy of retrieving his former command ship. No doubt she beleived that if the human retrieved the ship he would try and turn on his new masters.

Nelai was insulted when she was given the assignment of retrieving this ship, deeming it beyond her skills. She was one the most experienced and awarded overseers in the entire fleet, and should be directing the assault on this new galaxy, not trying to find this defunct ship. And it had been a fool's errand thus far, but new intelligence had come in, mostly thanks to their ability to tap into some of the Imperial satellites that monitored Imperial space. The ship was spotted near a planet called Byss, deep in the Core of the government called the Galactic Empire.

There was no way to get there in time with the complicated hyperspace routes caused by the star density in that area of space. But they did plot the exit vector of the ship, and here they waited for it. It should have been here quite some time ago, but considering the damage it sustained its darkspace generator it could be considerably slower than its previous configuration.

"Overseer, a large object is leaving darkspace. It's the large vessel."

Nelai smiled. "Prepare transports. We will soon have a gift for our Xal'Teiron."
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Post by corsos »

"Is that hulk actually trying to fire at us?" Nelai smiled wickedly. "Pathetic, why would our Xa'Tieron want such a wreck? But she shall have it nonetheless. Disable it immediately and launch our troop transports. Subdue whatever humans still alive that are foolish enough to beleive they still have an opportunity to live."

"Immediately Overseer."

Nelai watched as her cruisers fired their magpulse cannons at the human vessel and in short order the enemy ship was not only silenced but went completely dark.

Our ships are too efficient, our weapons too powerful.

"We will need to tow the wreck. Take care of the appropriate preparation and set course for Ashak. Summon me when it is prepared."

"Of course Overseer."

Nelai returned to her quarters and prepared for her return to A'shak and yet another meeting with the Xa'Tieron. There was something peculiar about the entity that had taken over the body of the preistess Katim, something disturbing. She still found it odd that a priestess of inferior bloodlines would be granted the honor of hosting the Xa'Tieron, the savior of the Xen CHi people, who called herself GAIT. Nelai would of course serve this Gait, especially since the entity had taken an interest in her and in her ability to lead. But things directed by Gait were odd, so strange that the priest caste considered them heresy. Her droid facilities, and new methods of training the Chosen were especially watched. It broke tradition, something the priests felt particulary indebted to.

As if one cue Preistess Ten'ra entered the Overseer's chambers and bowwed out of respect to the higher ranked officer, and purer specimen as it went by bloodlines.

"Overseer. PLease, I must speak to you about this vessel you are capturing."

"Speak Priestess, and speak quickly. Matters of the soul mean little to me at the moment." Nelai did not even look up from her work.

"This vessel, it carries a great demon, a dark curse of great power consumes it from stern to bow. It is of darkness, we should destroy it."

Nelai now, finally looked up. "You question the judgement of our Xa'Tieron, Preistess. It is her wish we return to her with this cursed vessel."

"She does not know the danger it holds, otherwise there is no way she would wish it anywhere in her vicinity. It could destroy her, all of us. I caution you, the Gods have spoken to me through their light."

"Go back to their prayers priest, and leave military matters to those that know something about them. Be gone from my visage."

"Yes Overseer." The priestess bowed and departed leaving Nelai alone. She was not suprised the Priestess would think that this was a poor choice. Disagreeing with the Xa'Tieron was something they had become very adept at. They were long allies with the former High Consul Intic.

"Overseer, our tow cables are attatched and we are prepared to move into darkspace, our destination Ashak."

"Our warriors are onbaord, with our Chosen leading them?"

"Yes Overseer, they are capturing the vessel."

"Darkspace then, we shall see the result when we leave it."
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Post by corsos »

A'Shak Research Facility

GAIT sat alone in her specially designed room in the A'shak research facility. In many ways it had truly become the place she ruled from as the Xa'Tieron of the Xen Chi. It was here that her plans were carried out, and her technological innovations were created and tested. If these Xen Chi, had been considered deadly invaders before her arrival, now they should be unstoppable. Their Chosen, their special worries had recieved training from Trianah that would make them far more deadly than their best ever had been. Then there were her droids, built in part from the technological genius that once nearly destroyed the creators, now put to use in combination with Xen Chi physiology, the androids would be unstoppable. Their defeat at the hands of the creators had taught GAIT many lessons, one of which had already been remedied. Their new found connection to this thing mortals called the force increased their power tenfold. This was what turned the battle against the creators in their enemy's favor. Now it was completely in the hands of GAIT.

And it was that newfound power that allowed the Xa'Tieron to feel what approached her before it even arrived. Overseer Nelai had secured their prize, and as the once human Banner Ton had promised it was far more than just a ship. It carried a presence with it, as though the ship was alive. It was though a ship had been created specifically for GAIT, one she could become one with, and rule from.

Trianah... come to me.

One of her counterparts had just arrived from the Temple of the Chosen, where she had finally completed her special traning of the ashen alien's warrior caste. It was intense and most did quite well. Others though, failed miserably and had gone quite mad, their petty conscious's unable to handle the raw power and strength GAIT made available to them.

Trianah entered GAIT's chambers in the form of the female Xen Chi warrior she was using when interacting with their mortal allies. To these mortals she would likely be considered attractive, acquiring most of the qualities of what would likely be considered the perfect female form. However, after entering that facade melted away revealing the super advanced droid that she truly was. "The ship that the humans call the Cleansing will be arriving shortly. I will board the vessel the moment it arrives. The mortals will require me to bring along a retinue that is fitting of their Xa'Tieron. Arrange it. There will be danger on the ship, have you some of your chosen with you?"

"They are here." Trianah reassumed the visage of the mortal warrior, and departed.

GAIT rose and prepared for her triumph.

***

Overseer Nelai did not like the fact they had lost communication with the Cleansing and their people aboard it. They had given their boarding parties darkspace transmitters but there had been nothing since the initial reports of victory. She required answers for the Xa'Teiron when they arrived at A'shak, not uncertainties. Finally they were dropping out of darkspace, and unfortunately for her all she was going to have was uncertainties.

The moment the A'Shak system revealed itself to them their ship was hailed twice, once from the Cleansing, the second time from the facility itself. She dared let the Xa'Tieron wait, and recieved from the Cleansing first. It was not Chosen Ulreik. It was another warrior that bore the rank of Overseer.

"Who speaks to me?" Nelai demanded.

"I am Preyvor, I beleive your Chosen is dead, along with most of his men. There is a demon onboard, it has slaughtered them."

Nelai did not let her features display the disbelief she felt at listening to the warrior's ramblings. If he didn't seem so sane, so in control, she would have thought him mad. But that could not be addressed now, for it would be by the Xa'Tieron herself in moments. "A moment, Preyvor."

Nelai quickly switched over to the full transmission from the small moon that held the research facility the Xa'Tieron had been most recently calling home. She went to knee at the appearance of the priestess that was once known as Katim.

"Xa'Tieron. We have recovered the ship and brought it to you by your order." Nelai did not even dare look up at the savior of the Xen Chi race.

"You have done well Overseer Nelai. Arrange your fleet to protect the ship, and this base. I take it the ship itself is secure."

"It is not Xa'Tieron. There is something still onboard, what our warriors are calling a demon."

"I will go there." GAIT answered.

"It is not safe for someone such as yourself."

"It is only safe for me. Meet me onboard the ship, Overseer, so I may claim this prize in honor of our Gods and our superior race. It is now ours."

"Of course, Xa'Tieron." Nelai looked up only after she heard the transmission cut off. This could be dangerous for her, and not just becuase of this... ghost ship that floated before them. She summoned her shuttle, and within minutes she was landing in the main hangar of the Cleansing, which was still mostly without power. She had beaten the Xa'Tieron here, but not by much. Her array of assault shuttles approached. It would give her a moment with this Preyvor, who awaited her.

"I do hope, warrior, you have a better explanation for the Xa'Tieron when she arrives, that you had for me." Nelai was never more convinced that this warrior wasn't mad. He looked worn out, tired, beaten, but not mad. There was too much pride there for that. As the Xa'Tieron's shuttle touched down lightly on the deck of the hangar, she awaited her answer from this warrior.

ooc this will continue on the Ghost Ship thread as well as here, please post your responses in both places so when Ghost Ship closes, we'll have the dialogue here as well.
"The goal of war is not to die for your country, it's to make the other bastard die for his." General George S. Patton

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Post by Archangel »

Preyvor bowed the the Overseer as he replied, "I am afraid, Overseer, that I do not. The humans call the demon 'Damascus'; I believe he is the strongest Jedi they may field, but even they fear him. He is an enemy to all, but they are using him - or, perhaps, he is using them. I am not sure exactly, Overseer. I am a warrior, not a priest."

When the Xa'Tieron approached, Preyvor bowed deeply. "Prefect Sar Preyvor, Xa'Tieron," he introduced himself, "I am honored to be in your presence." Expecting impatience from the once-priestess, he continued quickly, "The demon, Damascus, has his body in this vessel's engineering section, but he controls much of the ship through a connection I do not understand. The few remaining aliens have joined forces with him in an attempt to defeat us; small contingents of their soldiers, combined with his power, wiped out all the Xen'Chi warriors on this 'Cleansing' except those you see before you." He gestured to himself and the eleven other, injured, battered warriors that stood behind him.

There had been a twelfth; the last soldier of Ulreik's had turned on Preyvor after the battle, shouting of vengeance, obedience, and betrayal, but the warriors had been quick to dispatch him. He was untrustworthy anyway, since he had not lived on this vessel as they had. Being here... was like a culture, an exclusive group, and anyone outside was not worthy of trust or respect. Those who had experienced the hellish ship could be considered friends - even if they were of lesser races than Xen'Chi. Preyvor did not understand it entirely, but he felt it had something quite to do with the mental and physical strength taken to survive, something which tied all the survivors together.

That information, however, was of no use the Xa'Tieron, and so Preyvor did not volunteer it. He had little doubt that she could pull it from his mind - he had heard tell of such things - but he saw no reason why she should. He bowed his head again, awaiting a response from the powerful leader of the Xen'Chi.

[OOC: Sorry I forgot to include this here earlier.]
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Post by corsos »

ooc this should do - I don’t have the time to take this as long as I would prefer… so ill take it halfway – im pretty jammed up this weekend so Im not sure when Ill be able to finish it.

IC

GAIT could feel the pull and power of the ship as she came closer and closer to the super-ship. The circuits and power-conduits might be shut down from battle damage but the potential there was limitless once their potential was realized. But it was more than that. A different energy field dominated the vessel, the same that GAIT had only recently learned to access… this force. It was a violent, raw version of this energy field swirling in a tempest. If it had been a reactor core, it would be close to overloading. The energy intermingled with the ship, not only around in but inside it as though the ship was somehow transformed from the inside out. It was as though the random chaos that was the galaxy created this perfect concoction for GAIT, a better ship she could not have created herself even with her vast power.

Her ship touched down gently in the ships main hangar bay and after her guards set themselves appropriately Trianah led her towards Overseer Nelia, who was talking to a warrior that wore the rank of Prefect. GAIT approached and the two turned to her immediately. She touched the mind of the warrior bidding him to make his report.

"Prefect Sar Preyvor, Xa'Tieron," he introduced himself, "I am honored to be in your presence. The demon, Damascus, has his body in this vessel's engineering section, but he controls much of the ship through a connection I do not understand. The few remaining aliens have joined forces with him in an attempt to defeat us; small contingents of their soldiers, combined with his power, wiped out all the Xen'Chi warriors on this 'Cleansing' except those you see before you." He gestured to himself and the eleven other, injured, battered warriors that stood behind him.

GAIT could see and sense the doubt, and see it plainly on the face of Overseer Nelai. This warrior spoke of demons, ghosts, and curses. It sounded of madness, of a warrior that had seen too much blood, too much death. But it was not the case. In fact the mere fact he was able to hold everything together onboard a ship like this.

“He speaks the truth.” Gait stated matter-of-factly. “There is great power on this ship.” GAIT walked slowly to a small control panel on the wall and placed her hand on it. Interfacing with it, a small jolt of blue electricity jumped between her flesh and the steel. The Xa Tieron opened her eyes looked at her thralls. “The demon controls the ship no more. Prefect Preyvor, lead us to engineering, now.”

* * *

Valis, Janzor, Arlan and stood by, simply watching Damascus as he apparently meditated. He stood in the center of engineering his two hands on the two main control consoles, his eyes closed. He had stood there for almost ten minutes now, saying nothing. Valis twice moved to interrupt the former Emperor but Janzor interrupted him. It was then he began relaying to Valis what Damascus was doing.

“More assault shuttles are landing in main engineering.” Janzor spoke with no emotion, like a puppet was controlling his mind, likely Damascus. “More aliens are departing including one special one… a woman. Power radiates from her as strong as anything I have seen in my experience. Something is different about this alien… this thing. She is trying to enter into the ship. I will stop her.”

Then Janzor stopped talking, and jerked violently for a moment. He latched onto Valis, using the guardsman to hold himself up. “It was dark… blank, all of it was gone.”

Valis looked to Damascus who’s eyes were open… it might have even been a look of fear in the Emperor’s eyes. “The ship has been blocked from my power. I no longer control anything.” Damascus seemed to want to say more but he could not find the words.

Valis glanced to Arlan and the other men there, his look was not one filled with confidence.

* * *

James Ardin could feel it immediately, like a cool fog was simply lifted off his shoulders, and from the entire nether he was trapped in. Damascus was gone. He wasn’t sure whether to celebrate this, or fear what it meant. The entire hallway he walked in began to glow a little brighter, as though the systems in the nether were somehow being healed or activated. A cold, lifeless chill ran down his spine… a lot different than the gloom that followed Damascus. That cold was familiar, selfishness, evil and hatred. But this new sensation was something different. It was utterly freezing, completely lifeless… like the force, or whatever it was that held this place together was being altered at its very core. Suddenly, James feared for his survival. Things were changing… and he had to learn what those changes were in order to carry on, and survive to serve whatever purpose he was sent here to serve.
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Post by corsos »

“Your weapon, my lord.” Janzor handed the small metal cylinder to Damascus. He had only heard stories of the weapon from Slynt, and still he had not seen it in action. Only half the size of a normal lightsaber, the weapon was often just as dangerous to its wielder as it was to his opponent. Many at the Institute tried to train and master the weapon, all managed to cause themselves serious injury. In fact, Damascus was the only one to use it, and he wielded it as a master. Janzor longed to see it in action, and learn it himself.

Damascus took the weapon, still engulfed in his brooding silence. He had not said more than a few words since he declared his conscious removed from the vessel. Janzor had felt it too, for all the power that had been moving through his flesh was gone. He still felt it and could access it but it certainly was not the same. The ship bled the darkside, but it no longer flowed through him as it did before. Damascus was the conduit no longer. The Emperor stared the weapon testing its weight in his hand. Janzor could sense no fear from the Emperor, only focus and determination.

Thorn broke the silence. “What do you want us to do?”

Janzor looked up and was about to speak but Damascus’ voice cut him short. “There is a ship that landed here in one of the hangar bays nearly a day ago, a Corellian Corvette. It is the most spaceworthy craft on this ship and it is the only possible means of escape from this system. Go there, and return to the Empire, and Thrawn with the information you have acquired.”

“Retreat?” Janzor asked, quite shocked at the Emperor’s suggestion.

“A contingency plan, apprentice. Be silent until spoken to, despite your own opinion you still have much to learn.” Janzor dared not answer the rebuke and stood their, silent as a corpse.

Valis looked to the Emperor. “You won’t need our help in defending engineering?”

“Your lives will be forfeit if you stay, and your deaths will do nothing to help cause. If I cannot defeat these curs myself, you will be of no help. There is a sub-route the Xen Chi likely won’t use, that trooper knows it.” Damascus’ eyes flipped to Arlan.

Valis looked back to the trooper that nodded. “I know the Corvette, and where it is. But… it is my duty to protect the Emperor… my sworn duty.”

Damascus let a rueful grin to pass across his lips. “Then we are fortunate you are no novice at breaking sworn oaths, guardsman. Go, your Emperor commands you.”

Thorn shrunk back at the force of the command, looking back at the only remaining men left living. They all nodded, and followed the stormtrooper out of main engineering. Valis was the last to leave, but stopped before he did. He looked back at the Emperor for a moment, and seemed to want to say something before leaving.

“He cannot be trusted.” Janzor said.

“In abandoning his Emperor, perhaps it is the only thing he can be trusted with, that and staying alive.” Damascus said, coldly. “Prepare yourself apprentice, we face a fight of the likes of which neither of us thought we would ever see.”

Janzor nodded, and began to focus, embracing his emotions and the darkside as fully as he knew how.

* * *

GAIT strode like a queen through the halls of the Cleansing, letting her conscious and power flow through the ship. Already their unique technology brought onboard by Trianah was integrating with the ship’s, helping it become closer to functioning as it should. This ship would soon be as much a part of her as this flesh she occupied, but far less alien, rebuilt with what was at the core of GAIT as an entity. Like Trianah, and FAIT they would all be one in the same, but at the same time wholly different, especially considering his human power than flowed through the ship as thick as any electrical current ever would.

But it was through this Jedi force, that GAIT saw and felt all that was going on upon this vessel. She could feel this being that the Xen Chi Preyvor had referred to as a demon, a word that was not wholly misplaced. Though this force was everywhere onboard this vessel, a focal point was around this being. The name he used, Damascus, appeared familiar to GAIT but she could quite recall why it would be so. Perhaps when her Xen Chi eyes came upon him she would know. But there was more going on than this demon. The mortals were splitting up, no doubt a futile effort to escape their destiny.

Halting her stride, GAIT turned to Trianah and one of the chosen warriors that was with her. “Many of the humans have left engineering. They are heading to the higher levels. Chosen, bring your warriors and stop them.”

“Yes, Xa’Tieron.” He bowed. “I do not know the vessel well…”

“You will take them.” She turned to Preyvor. “Show them the way.”

“Your will is my command.” Preyvorr bowed. “Where is it…”

GAIT interrupted before he could finish. “They move to a ship, one they call a Corvette. It is located in hangar bay 4A. Beat them there and take them captive if possible, they are not to escape.”

Preyvor kept his head bowed. “Yes, Xa’Tieron.” He turned and moved away with the Chosen, and his group of warriors.

Without hesitation the retinue continued further towards engineering. GAIT lead them now, with no hesitation or doubt in any of her strides.

* * *

Damascus stood and faced the main entrance to engineering and waited. It seemed, as before, fate had conspired against him. With all his machination, and control over the force it was often randomness, and circumstances even beyond his near infinite reach that clouded his plans. He had been brought back to life, with full control over the most powerful starship in the galaxy. Recouping his former followers would have been simple, and his replacing Thrawn would have been inevitable if the Empire was to survive this war as the Galactic Superpower he had turned it into.

He was so close, just as much as he was when he stood onboard this very ship on the verge of total victory at Corellia. The CEC was doomed, and the New Republic would not be far behind with the loss of such a powerful ally. His Death Star had proved the military tool he had foreseen it to be. More than capable subordinates, completely indoctrinated to his way of thinking ran the fleet at peak efficiency. After the Republic was gone, he would have turned on his once allies, taking back Loris and Wild Star Space to be part of the newly formed, and for the first time truly Galactic Empire, from the Outer Rim, to the Deep Core, to Bastion to Mon Calamari.

His web was perfectly drawn and designed. It was perfectly weaved with the precision of a master. Then, at Corellia the strands started to snap. The arrival of Thrawn with a resurrected Ardin along with a combined Lorisian and rebellious Imperial fleet had proved a difficulty. So had the activation of Centerpoint station. But both were variables that Damascus had foreseen as possibilities and he had prepared contingencies for them. What he had not foreseen, and could never have, was the arrival of the entity that destroyed the Death Star. That turned the battle irrevocably. It put everything into disarray, snapping strands of his web everywhere, eventually allowing his own flesh and blood to usher in his destruction.

And it was that entity that was here now. That very same thing that arrived at Corellia was here now, and was the thing that cut him off from the ship, and the same thing that destroyed his Death Star. It was apart from the force, but at the same time it used it, and accessed it for its own purposed. It was trying to insert itself into the weave, but the force at its very nature tried to reject it. But there was an unimaginable power inside this being, something ancient beyond human understanding, and even the force was a slave to its machinations.

Despite Palpatines excesses, and his own, Damascus always felt himself realistic in his plans and schemes, no matter how grand they might have been. And in truth, he felt that he was invincible aboard this ship with his spirit flowing through every panel, and every circuit. With life in this body, and part of his spirit remaining in the netherworld that had somehow been created on this ship by the force, he was omniscient. He was a god onboard this ship, as much as any deity could have ever been on their own world. The ship was an extension of his being, as was the netherworld, he had so infested it with the darkside. It was, in effect, a portion of his mind. But now, even if that part wasn’t wholly gone, Damascus could no longer feel it.

And again, it was this being that had done it, this all-powerful entity that had chosen to battle his mighty essence and won. And if his feelings and sense were still to be trusted, it had done so without any true difficulty. It came here now, attempting to finish the job. Damascus would win, he believed it, but not wholly. He knew now that he could lose and die a final time. That is why he had sent Valis away, not from a lack of confidence, but because of the realistic circumstances at hand. He would have sent Janzor instead, but the guardsman was more capable and would be more prudent than his petulant apprentice, no matter how much raw power he possessed.

“Welcome to my throne room.” Damascus opened his eyes to see the being that stood at the entrance to engineering. It looked like any other alien, in this case a rather scantily clad and somewhat voluptuous female priestess. Tattoos laced her flesh from head to toe and she appeared like any other of their kind. But with the force Damascus saw her for far more. Not quite flesh, not quite machine, but something unique and in between. There was a possession of the flesh by this greater being, a conduit into the living world, and likely a trick to control these aliens for its own purposes. It was a worthy plan, one Damascus could respect, perhaps even envy. But he would not shrink before it. “Bow before your Emperor.” He said.

“I bow to no one, and do not fray you are not wanted, mortal.” The woman spoke and suddenly Damascus could see nothing about her, only her fleshy form. He tried to slink around her barriers, then break through them, but there was no success. But it did tell him that there was a mortal limitation to her use of the force, otherwise Damascus would not have been able to sense anything upon her entrance. She is limited by her flesh, and that is her weakness.

I will exploit it.

“You will exploit nothing human.” GAIT said, having heard Damascus’ thoughts as though he had spoken them aloud.

Damascus smiled. “You play with something you do not fully understand, you foray into a power that want no part of you.” He twirled his unlit weapon between his fingers, pushing the console in front of him aside to clear the path between them.

“Want is irrelevant. I use it as I see fit. You think you can stop me?”

“I am ready for you now.” Damascus stated. “Not like Corellia, where like a snake you struck from secret, too much a coward to show yourselves from the start. We have met before you and I. I was master of the machine you destroyed there. There is much you owe me. Much I will now collect.”

“It was you that built that which could have been our sister, like the other station there as well. When this is over, human, never again will the flesh control those things that are inherently more powerful than they. Those days are at an end. And I will start with you.”

Damascus smiled wickedly, all his hate and malice he felt for this being, this variable that had constantly disrupted all his best laid plans, all those feelings moved through him like the thickest river. The force was all around him as he took a step closer to this being…

GAIT… yes…. That is what you are called.

There was the smallest hint of surprise on the face of the alien. It was quickly replaced by the same cold look it had worn since entering the room. “The time for toying with you is at an end mortal, but know this, already I have learned much from you and it has made me even stronger.”

“You are flesh, and you will fall me before like all who have come before.” Damascus said. The doubt from his voice and his mind were gone.

Damascus signaled Janzor and the young man charged, his two lightsabers flashing before him, heading straight for this being called GAIT.

GAIT spoke one word. “Trianah.”

* * *

He never got there. Stepping in front of the possessed Xen Chi was one of the accompanying warriors. Armed with only a pair of small black serrated daggers, the warrior met Janzor’s blades, the red blades sizzling against the specially forged obsidian. Janzor knew his advantage immediately. The Xen Chi was larger than him, but his blades were much smaller, only a third of the size of his lightsaber. He back-stepped quickly and began his attacks a far more suitable range trying to keep out of the way of the very dangerous looking daggers of his enemy.

The warrior, though female, was still slightly larger than Janzor but still seemed to possess the immense strength of the others he had fought onboard the ship. More impressive was her speed, every motion was fluid with a precise purpose. Already she had Janzor in retreat trying to maintain his strategy. His sabers cut through the air, most times missing the Xen Chi completely, she contorting her body with an ungodly speed to avoid the slashes. Only occasionally did she even ever have to use her blades. Janzor could immediately tell this was no ordinary warrior. The one he fought in the hangar was an equal, he knew right away this was a superior.

She continued to advance, and now Janzor was the one parrying her shorter weapons. She drew closer and closer. Finally one of her daggers broke, and his lightsaber cut through the obsidian and shortly afterwards her right wrist. Severed from the wrist, her hand clanked to the ground, dagger still in the grip. Janzor smiled and looked at the warrior, expecting to see the pain, fear and anguish that would encompass her. There was nothing, and worse, Janzor felt nothing. She came again as though nothing had happened using the one dagger now. There was no pain, no anger, no doubt.

Janzor had an easier time of it with only one weapon coming upon him. It was easier to defend against her assault while trying to counter-attack. But there was something that made it that much more difficult. His ability to see through the force gave him an innate advantage over any opponent, being able to in many ways anticipate and predict their attacks. But there was nothing here, all he did was see the alien move and he reacted. And frankly his reactions were much slower than hers. His one blade continued to parry the dagger, but his second continuously tried to wound her in the midsection. But every time, by some miracle she contorted her body in ways, and with speeds that shouldn’t have been possible by any being.

She came at him again with her speed and strength. He parried her slash again, but she chose this time to press her blade against his lightsaber pushing the searing blade back towards his chest. He moved his second blade to reinforce the first, using all his strength to support his crossed blades against hers. And it worked, there it stopped. What Janzor didn’t see before it was too late was her right arm reaching towards his neck. He felt something tighten around it.

Impossible… I severed her hand. How can this be…

He heard the snap before he felt it. Then strength gave out from his legs, and Janzor fell to the floor, his lightsaber falling on top of his torso cutting into his flesh. If he could breath, or make any sounds through his crushed throat he would have screamed in agony. But the only sign of his pain was his bulging eyes. With them, he saw the woman warrior standing over him, with both hands fully intact. In fact the being had not even broken a sweat. She stood there as though she had just performed the simplest act possible, with no distress at all attached to it. But her hand, how did it return. Janzor averted his eyes to the durasteel floor, and across it where it should have been was the warrior’s severed hand.

Impossible...

It was the last thought the young Dark Jedi would ever have.

* * *

He never had a chance, like a lamb to the slaughter.

Damascus watched the two fight, his apprentice against what was clearly the most trusted underling of this entity. A few seconds into the fight Damascus knew this was no ordinary Xen Chi Janzor fought. She didn’t move like any living being he had encountered, and much like GAIT there was a strange sensation through the force surrounding this… Trianah, as her mistress had called her.

There is more than one.

“Him as well?” The victorious warrior looked to her mistress.

“No.” GAIT answered. “He thinks he is a master of this thing called the force… I will show him that he knows nothing.” She stepped forward and began walking towards him.

Damascus ignited his lightsaber and the small, foot long blade stretched out of the silver and black cylinder. With a flick of his wrist, the blade loosened and lengthened coiling to the ground, revealing the weapons true nature, that of a lash. Twisting his wrist and arm, Damascus whipped the lash through the air, first over his head before snapping it out towards the approaching GAIT. The alien simply lifted her right arm, which now held a lightsaber. It ignited in a yellow flash and knocked the lash away towards the floor.

Where could it have gotten such a weapon?

Damascus whipped the lash around his head again this time, gaining momentum before letting it fly towards his enemy. With the force he touched the lash, and the crystals controlling it, extending it to more than 15 feet in length. It moved like a striking serpent towards the neck of the alien, ready to coil around it and remove the flesh from the neck up. This time the alien did not even move the lightsaber. Instead a flash of light erupted from her left hand and the lash struck it and almost bounced back right into Damascus’s face. His mastery, however, allowed him to deflect the blow.

It’s as though a deflector shield appeared from her very hand.

“It did. The ship gives me strength mortal. More than you can possibly imagine. I tire of your games.” GAIT clenched her fist and Damascus’ lightsaber exploded in his hand sending sparks and shrapnel towards his face. Using the force he kept them at bay, but barely. He touched his hand to his face, which was now singed and covered with small scratches, starting to bleed.

Such a move was possible by a Jedi, but unless attempting it against someone with little or no training it was almost impossible. When a Jedi fought with their weapon, like them it was engulfed with the energy of the force, light or dark and any attempt by an enemy to tamper with it in that setting was often too difficult, or simply required too much concentration to leave them vulnerable. But this… thing, did it with a mere thought and gesture breaking through Damascus’ defense easily.

It must be a link with technology… the same way she was so easily able to expel me from the ship.

“And I tire of yours machine.” Damascus extended his hands and streams of lightning, thick and strong flowed through the air drawing on the darkness of the force on the ship. It struck the being in the chest and flowed all across her body. She stopped walking forward, but simply stood there as though she was merely being tickled. “Is this supposed to injure me mortal? It only strengthen me.”

She lifted her arms and the blue electricity flowed into her hands and into all the surrounding machinery, which now brimmed with power as the energy flowed all across the walls, ceiling and floor. Damascus stopped his assault but the blue power continued to flow from his being into the surrounding steal and circuits, and soon it was above Damascus. Like a storm, it violently came downwards. As master of the dark side, Damascus raised his hand drawing the electricity into him adding to his strength. It flowed with all the anger, hatred and malice it was created with. The assault on him was at and end, but the blue energy continued to pulsate through the walls, and again the alien was walking towards him, very slowly.

This is not over…

Damascus reached out with the force and grasped the large consoles and containers near him, and guiding them with his hands sent them flying towards his enemy. Some were simply tossed aside by GAIT’s own apparent mastery of the force. Others were stuck from the air by bolts of blue lighting. More still seemed to be poised to strike GAIT when the dim lights of an apparent shield flashed to life just before they hit. Damascus even summoned Janzor’s sabers and sent them spinning towards the being. She caught those and clipped them to her belt.

“And I thought your order had come a long way in advancing your abilities and strength. It appears I was mistaken.” GAIT said.

“We shall see.” Damascus lifted his hand sending a strong force push towards the alien. Her hair and clothes barely moved, as though a gentle breeze caressed her skin. She hesitated for but a moment, and then continued forward.

“I had not thought to use this force in those ways mortal. I learn more.” She lifted her arm now, and despite all his attempts to stand against it he was flying towards the wall of engineering. He struck it back first with a loud bang, then the back of his skull hit it. The pain was excruciating and the Emperor’s vision blurred. He could feel the blood beginning to run down his neck, and back.

“No.” Damascus stated, and tried to move. But he couldn’t. He was pinned there, held by the power of this entity, that now was clear was more powerful than anything he had even read about in all the Sith holocrons he had ever studied, or rumored to exist. He struggled, using his muscles and force but it was no use. He was struck. Jumping from the wall, blue lightning now flowed across his body, acting as binding to hold him steady. Through the pain and blurriness he saw the being known as GAIT draw even closer. Damascus hoped Valis was off the ship, but it didn’t matter. It came to this, and it would end in a means of his own choosing.

Damascus reached out with the force and grasped the controls to the ship’s reactor core. Even being cut off from his direct connection to the vessel he could still manipulate the instruments and controls as he saw fit. He moved levers, turned dials and pushed buttons in a way that would in less than two minutes cause it to meltdown and explode. He concentrated and focused all his hate and pain, and it was working. If this ship was not his, or the Empire’s, it would be no ones.

That was when he began to feel the awful pain in his left shoulder, like his very skin was trying to leave the body it covered. He heard a strange tearing sound, and looked down to see what had happened. His arm was gone, ripped off and bleeding on the floor. GAIT stood four feet away watching. “You play with toys that are no longer yours, human. Something as wonderful and unique as this ship should not be under the control of humans. It is part of me now, and as you pathetically try to injure it, so shall I you.” She lifted her arm, and he heard the tear again, this time his right arm was gone. The pain washing over him doubled, and any hope of finishing what he started was gone. His concentration was missing.

“So tell me, Emperor of the mortal humans. If I can so easily defeat you, whom they fear so much, how can the rest of them ever hope to find victory?”

Damascus had no answer. The alien was right, what hope did the rest of the species have? There was only one, the same one that had bested him. It was his own blood, whom he reached out to now. He felt him, if only for the briefest of moments before there was a sharp pain in his neck.

Son... we need you.

Suddenly he felt nothing.

The Emperor was dead.
Last edited by corsos on Wed Nov 08, 2006 4:14 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"The goal of war is not to die for your country, it's to make the other bastard die for his." General George S. Patton

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Post by Archangel »

[OOC: Holy... :shock:]

Preyvor was glad that he had been ordered to lead the Chosen and his warriors to the hangar in question. He did not want to be present when the Xa'Tieron fought the demon; either the demon was stronger, tolling a death knell for the Xen'Chi and ending their conquest of this galaxy - and likely killing everyone aboard shortly after the demise of the Xa'Tieron - or the Xa'Tieron was stronger, and such a display of power would be truly frightening.

Still, the Chosen that was with him was becoming annoying. "Speed it up, Prefect! We've no time to waste! The Xa'Tieron commanded us to stop these aliens from leaving!" he exclaimed, cursing at Preyvor whenever he got the chance. "Why do you take so long in leading us?"

Preyvor gritted his teeth and replied, "My apologies, sir. This ship is quite large, and while I have been here for some time, I would like to point out that I do not have the floorplan memorized - indeed, not even the aliens who controlled this ship before knew it so well. If you would have some patience, we will still catch these aliens before they escape."

The Chosen cursed again. Preyvor wondered if he had the skills to back up his arrogance, but he did not press the matter. He was under orders from the Xa'Tieron - and even if he would not readily obey these Chosen, he would always obey her. If he was not kept in line by honor, then he was by fear; she was confident and ready to defeat this demon that had so easily killed Preyvor's fellows, and that was not only admirable, but terrific.

It was some time before the Xen'Chi reached the hangar bay in question; there the "Corvette" sat. Though large compared to fighter craft, it seemed so small inside this beast of a vessel. Preyvor found it hard to imagine anyone feeling powerful in a vessel like that when the Cleansing existed.

The Chosen began handing out orders. "Everyone take defensive locations - hidden if possible. We want these aliens to be off their guard when they arrive, that we might kill them all. None are to escape, even if they try to go deeper into this vessel."

Preyvor looked at the Corvette and moved toward it; the Chosen demanded what he was doing. "I will secure this ship, to ensure they are not already aboard. The Xa'Tieron would be very displeased if we allowed them to escape because we thought we had beaten them here if we have not," he said. In truth, he knew that they had beaten the humans here and he wanted to be out from under the Chosen's commands for a time. He would only be inside the ship for a few minutes, anyway - he had no intention of fully "securing" it.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, Arlan was walking up front with Valis, toward the location of the vessel. He wondered whose it was, and where those people were, but it was their vessel now, and they were to escape. It was the only option if Damascus fell.

Something about the nature of the confrontation so far - Damascus being removed forcibly from the ship, with such apparent ease, for example - told Arlan that the Emperor would fall. As powerful as he was - and Arlan admitted that he was very powerful indeed - he had stood no resistance in his control over the vessel, and the Stormtrooper wondered if he would stand any resistance when coming face-to-face with this foe.

He marched onward, wondering how long it had been since he had slept at all. Sleep seemed such a foreign concept, something he no longer knew; he expected to sleep very much when they were away from the Cleansing and the Xen'Chi fleet that surrounded it, but he could only guess for how long.

[OOC: Feel free to take us all the way to the hangar; I just thought I'd leave a space open for xfiend to join back up with us.]
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She's Here

Post by xfiend1013 »

Garrett fell to the floor convulsing before the connection could even complete. As he shook and thrashed on the cold metal, he felt someone standing over him, watching, helpless.

It was a feeling he quickly shared as his senses left the world around him and plunged him fully into the datascape, the realm where his senses could utilize his cybernetic hardware and the natural neural network of his brain to analyze immense quantities of data at inhuman speeds. No interface, no peripherals – the memory, the computing power, the motherboard - it was all between his ears.

Flying through data was dangerous. He was vulnerable as he lay on the floor, his muscles spasmed with a hopeless chaos, his spinal cord felt like hot acid poured down his back. Something huge was there, a planetary network worth of data blasting full-speed into the Cleansing, crushing him with a tiny fraction of the torrent.

Garrett opened his eyes as KZ-107 plucked the wireless receiver from the back of his skull. The blinding infinity of the datascape popped into a point of light that swelled to show the hallway he was in.

Three dead stormtroopers lay in front of them, one twitching wildly, another in a pool of blood that spread as the third trooper slowly evaporated from the disruptor field.

“We must hurry, master. All projections of current events are leading to a very high probability of death. Any longer, and I fear we will reach the terminal curve of my computations.” KZ reached down and easily pulled Garrett to his feet.

“Something… something’s in there. In the ship’s network.”

“Yeah, all systems are acting crazy.” Freeman said. “But something is different. I… I can’t quite draw a bead on it, but I don’t like it.”

The lights in the hallway flickered, turned off then on.

“Cover me for a minute, you two. I’ve got to know.” Garrett said. He reached into one of his pockets for a neuro-inhibitor and brought out a handful of tiny blue pills.

“Are you crazy?” Freeman asked as Garrett swallowed the pills.

“Mr. Granth has been certified insane on eight worlds in three different systems.” KZ-107 said. “I believe it may have something to do with his disregard for civil authority.”

Garrett felt his body go slack. ”Hopefully that’ll stop the convulsions. Anti-seizure meds…” He thought. “If I stop breathing, disconnect me and give me a standard dose of adrenocrome.”

“What?” Freeman asked.

“Just cover me. KZ knows a medical detail or two.”

He plugged in.

“The pills didn’t do much good,” Freeman thought as he watched Garrett crack his head repeatedly against the wall.



[Onboard theTzohar]

From the shadows that slid in tandem patterns the jawas watched the strange alien trespassed on their holy ground.

Too big, too much war and death upon him. A tower, a tank, he would require traps and cunning to destroy. But even then, no one else was onboard.

The jawas had not fled the radiation leak onboard the Tzohar, and none of the evacuating crew had tried to convince them otherwise. They were fanatical, loyal to the death, loyal to Garrett Granth.

In fact, they considered him their god. It was the sort of thing a delusional soul like Garrett could go along with, made even easier since he was one of the few humans who understood their language, and since he fit their odd ‘prophecies,’ which seemed, to him, to change constantly just to suit his daily activities.

And Garrett was gone. They had managed to seal the reactor leak, hoping it would bring him back, but for the past days their cries into the commlink had been met with nothing but static and silence.

Perhaps it was time to try again.


Garrett watched the systems of the ship shift shape, the near-infinite gridwork of connections reassembling and rearranging into fantastic fractals that flowed to the artificial vanishing lines of the horizon. The scale was impossible to fathom, it was beyond simply seeing the size of the Cleansing, it was more like the first time he’d seen space, deep space, far from any planet or system.

Except alive.

“You… terrorist… the others… why you…” A voice, quiet in the grid.

Pictures and holovid of Garrett roared through the hallway that had suddenly appeared out of the green grid. Light flickered as the data rushed past as if on a hell-bound hovertrain. “Wanted: Dead or Alive,” Imperial propaganda blaming him for sabotage, arson, any crime imaginable. Most of them he’d commited, he admitted, but they still seemed to contain some intrinsic falsehood.

“..they’re coming, you have to help. Escape. Last…”

Then the datascape became like the bottom of an ocean. Files tore for him – kill files, the kind that could seize up a slicer’s brain, shut off his lungs, end the semi-permanent drumming of the heart. And they were big. Garrett looked into the distance, saw beyond the Cleansing and realized who he was dealing with.

The sky was filled with eyes that came plummeting for him, thousands of eyes, trailing nothing, no substance but that dreadful sphere. He’d seen this before and it was not good.

“Gait.” He whispered in the hallway.

“Oh shavvit.” He heard himself say.

The eyes spread wide and came for him. It was like a frenzied school of fish. He loaded an ICE-breaker and tumbled through the floor. He felt himself falling, free of the prison GAIT had quietly surrounded him with. The eyes accelerated and so did he.

How were they seeing him, how could Gait detect him amongst all the chaos on the network? He was tearing away as fast as his hardware would allow, but the eyes kept gaining – if only he’d been using his big rig, he could flee them and build up some countermeasures later, come back with big crypto and even bigger breakers, but he was stuck with what was in his head.

Bingo. He moved faster, into a high speed connection Gait had laid in front of him, the classic trap. But soon, he’d be out, he knew. He saw the tunnel closing, closing, and before terabytes of chaos overloaded his brain and left him a drooling Sydonian cabbage, he fell away from the hardware, let his mind shrink back into nothing but neurons.

The eyeballs swarmed the bait, trying to break through the firewalls of his cybernetic hardware, and he fell on, freefalling on wetware.

And then, he could see Gait’s second plan. The hallway, the real hallway, suddenly lit up. He could see it behind his eyes. He tried to reach back for the receiver, but found that it was already unplugged.

It was then he realized that he couldn’t breathe.

***

“What’s wrong with him?” Freeman asked. “Come on, doc, check this hallway, something is seriously frelled up.” The lights seemed brighter, the atmosphere system, louder.

“Unknown. I am administering adrenocrome now.” KZ-107 announced to Freeman. There was no hint of panic, no twinge of distress. The droid drew his hand back and then his pineapple-like head (a conglomerate of sensors) cocked to one side and was still.

Winston knew, by now, that he was listening. That the droid could hear and see things no human could.

“And administering beta reactivation complex.” KZ-107 said again, that same monotonous roll. Most doctors would be shouting now.

Electricity sparked in the air. Freeman felt his hair standing inside the helmet. Static roared in the headset.

“Don’t bring him out! Don’t let him live!” A new voice, shouting and cold. Yet it seemed right to him, seemed sensible, the first thing he’d heard in days that didn’t make his skin crawl, that didn’t seem like a deathwish.

He raised the A280 and looked at the droid administering a third drug to the quivering Granth. He wasn’t breathing. The electricity in the air built even more, tingling across his back and stomach. Ions glowed on the metal surface of the robotic assassin, who appeared to be wreathed in flame.

“Mag-pulse… charges… microgrenades…” Garrett managed between gritted teeth. He suddenly sat up and had his blaster out. Freeman stood stunned, lowered the weapon.

“Now!” Garrett shouted. “Turn off the frelling power!

KZ-107 locked back two of his hands and launched a pair of shining orbs into the hallway. Garrett himself launched a marble-sized detonator from a small launcher underneath his blaster. The hallway quickly bathed in criss-crossing electricity, then fell silent. More silent than before. And dark.

“She’s here! She’s here!” Garrett shouted. He was on his feet now, and the massive dose of stimulants was driving him to activity.

“Who’s here?!” Freeman asked.

“Quiet, organics. Someone is coming. I believe we know them well.” KZ-107 said.

It was then that Garrett noticed he’d missed fifteen messages on his commlink.
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Post by corsos »

GAIT walked silently through the halls of the healing ship. Overseer Nelai had been sent away with the rest of her aliens to deal with matters of the fleet and war, as well as the warrior that allowed the humans to leave. She, naturally, wanted to see them killed for their failure. But she did not see what GAIT had, nor know what Trianah had been doing during the battle.

This warrior Preyvorr interested her, his behavior to not only let his enemy go, but with their arms as well seemed illogical and contrary to the typical method of the Xen Chi. His decision intrigued GAIT as it was contrary to the rest of the species. Such a specimen would be interesting to observe and perhaps use in the future. To assure this Preyvor’s loyalty GAIT had pardoned him herself, and set him high in her standing for future duty and battles. The pride on the warrior’s face, and the accelerated heart beat and brain activity told GAIT his loyalty would be guaranteed.

Shortly afterwards, GAIT’s nano-machines had worked their genius on the ship’s hyperspace systems and once again the human ship known as the Cleansing was prepared to travel. It would be some time before the remaining systems would be functional, but once the ship was brought to her factories where her droids were manufactured, everything would be accelerated, especially with FATE’s help.

When they arrived at the planet, rather disturbing messages awaited her from the war council. The Xen Chi had been beaten at Yaga Minor, as well as Corellia, and were being removed from some of the earliest systems they had conquered. This was unacceptable and would have to be remedied. Perhaps removing Intic was not enough, leaving his subordinates in their positions of power was a mistake as well. Finding a replacement would be difficult… but not too difficult for a being such as GAIT.

ooc im going to continue this in a series of shorter posts rather than a big whammy one
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Post by corsos »

These organics think they have come so far, how pathetic.

With the antiquated filing system, and rudimenatary technology, even in GAIT's prefect brilliance it took some time to rife through all of the personell files in the Xen Chi military database. GAIT searched for her new War Master, someone that would carry out the war and win it, no matter the cost or the method. The Xen Chi honor system, and illogical ethos of war would do nothing but hold back her purposes.

Looking through the files of those already in military high command was fruitless, as their advancement meant they adhered to the nonsense preached to Prefects and Warriors during training. It required GAIT to look elsewhere. And in the millions of personell files, only one stood apart that might prove to be of some use. There was one problem, that person was soon to be executed on the Chiss homeworld of Chil'a'Chin. Sending the order to hal the trial was simple, and already done. Freeing the prisoner would be far more difficult, these Xen Chi were stubborn and GAIT and all her intention was needed in reconstructing and staffing her new command ship.

FAIT would go, and GAIT would have her Warmaster.
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Post by corsos »

FAIT had no interest in using a facade such as the ones Trianah and GAIT had assumed in their dealing with the Xen Chi. She instead developed a compromise and situated herself in one of the Androids created at the A'Shak research facility. This one showed very little of the droid parts below, and appeared at first glance to be your typical Xen Chi Priestess. Later models, the ones run into mass production had far less genetic flesh on their structures, but were still built with Xen Chi mindset and DNA at their base. They were even able to maintain the touch some of the Chosen and the Priesthood felt to this energy GAIT identified as "the force". Unlike GAIT, FAIT had no intention of risking her livelyhood inside a mortal, the steel of a machine was far more secure.

The android FAIT had claimed appeared to be a woman in her middle years, largely tattoed to show her dedication to the Xen Chi Gods. She strode through the dark dusty halls of Chil'a'Chin towards what the organics referred to as The Fissure, a deep mountain pass that held its worst criminals. The former Overseer, now civilian named simply Kattar was one such person. He was imprisoned on war crimes during the war against the Chiss, when he had, at least according to the Council, broken with Xen'Chi honor and tradition. Such frivolities were not a concern of FAIT, for upon review of the war her calculations supported the hypothesis that his tactics would have provided the greatest chance for victory. His name was so short, because he familial name had been stripped after his behavior.

FAIT borded the lift, that slowly brought her and her escort down towards the prisons. With her were two of the more common Androids, walking in their typical march. The third was one that Trianah had seen fit to design herself, made completely of alloy with an advanced AI programmed with the specific methods for killing Jedi. It trailed behind walking slowly on all four of its mechanical legs. No on had the gall to try and stop her so far, with her robes bearing the runes of the Xa'Tieron. That ended when she reached the huge iron gates of The Fissure. Two imposing warriors stood there, war staffs crossed across their jutting chests.

"No one enters the fissure without permission of the Council, Priestess."

"I am the emissary from the Xa'Tieron. I require entrance." FAIT said. "My arrival was made known to the administrator of this facility." FAIT did not sound like a member of the Xen Chi, nor did she care to.

The warrior released an angered grunt before turning towards the console that would contain his instruction for this, if any existed at all. "Enter." He said begrudgingly, and he stepped aside along with his fellow warrior.

FAIT walked into the dark prison, which was lit dimly by what appeared to be primitive torches. Not that it mattered. Neither she, nor those with her needed light to see the old Warrior walking towards them. His clothing and rank indicated he was the administrator of this facility.

"I am here for Overseer Kattar."

"Welcome Priestess." The sound of the scarred warrior's voice indicated to FAIT he was not pleased with this. That, of course, was inmaterial. "Many were dissapointed we could not carry out the cowards execution."

"Then they shall be more dissapointed, he will be accompanying me to see the Xa'Tieron."

The warrior's eyes widened and FAIT prepared for his protest. perhaps even a threat. Such base things were the way of the Xen Chi. It did not come. Perhaps he wisely realized the pointlessness of such a protest. He motioned to one of the warriors with him. "He will lead you to him. Stay close, the Fissure claims the lives of those that aren't incarcerated here as well."

He turned and left, no doubt as FAIT surmised, to try and reason with an ally on the Council, to make such a release impossible.

FAIT followed her guide deep into the prison.
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Post by corsos »

To a mortal and those made of flesh, a place such as this would be considered quite unpleasant. It was terribly hot, smelly, and stuffy creating a sufficiently uncomfortable feeling for a mortal that would be considered a constant torture. These Xen Chi must have been sufficiently upset with this former Overseer for him to be sent to the Fissure. However, GAIT, with FAIT's strategic assistance had come to the conclusion that this mortal would be the perfect one to lead this war against the humans near the Core of the galaxy.

The two guides led the FAIT and her escorts down and around the Fissure, past a number of cells, chasms, pits, torture chambers and other natural and mortal made structures. They were all rather crude, made of the volcanic rock that traveled up and down the mountain It was clear as they descended the level of natural discomfort and Xen Chi designed torture was getting worse. This was where their worst criminals were kept, including those that disgraced the race in their military. Kattar was on the lowest level.

After another twenty minutes of traveling FAIT was brought into a pitch black cell that smelled of sulfur and burned with the heat of the magma that flowed deep within the mountain. The mortal within heard them enter but there was no way he could see them, but with her internal programming and nightvision capabilities seeing him was not difficult. He had been inside this cell for a long time, barely fed, and it showed. He was curled in the corner, muscle mass almost gone, though there was still a lean and strong characteristic to his build.

FAIT had studied the pattern of Xen Chi movement and facial expressions for a long time, and this one did not show that of a beaten sentient. SOmething that could be called determination dripped from his frown, and his eyes showed not only anger, but confidence and dissapointment in his own species knowing they made a mistake putting him here. He was not so much shamed to be here, but rather shamed that his own species would made the mistake of banishing him.

He is precisely what it is we need.

"Here to bring me more pain?" He asked defiantly. "I am ready for it."

"No." FAIT spoke through the Priestess' s mouth. "Your Xa'Tieron requests your service in leading her war."

"YOu want my service?" He asked, hope dripping from his words.

"Your people need it to achieve their final victory, restore their honor."

The alien spit. "Honor is a figment of the imagination of someone that was defeated. The only honor is victory, no matter how it is gained."

"The Xa'Tieron shares your sentiments."

"Councilor Intic does not."

"He is dead." FAIT answered.

"Then it is truly the Xa'Tieron that has come to save our people from their own nonsense, and bring us to glory. It would be my honor to fight in her name."

"Rise Warmaster Kattar." FAIT said. "Your people wait for you."
"The goal of war is not to die for your country, it's to make the other bastard die for his." General George S. Patton

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Post by corsos »

"The prisoner has been removed from the Fissure." FAIT spoke to GAIT over their secure network, separate from even the Xen Chi net. There was an eternal connection between GAIT, FAIT and Trianah as long as each were imbued in a mortal or electronic form.

"That is good, the mortals seem to require something for them to regain their drive and momentum."

"I believe based on his prior record, Kattar will be ruthless, efficient but somewhat cautious. He will not go headlong into battles he does not know he can win. But analyzing his past strategic decisions, 93.5% of time, he comes to the correct conclusion. He is not a slave to Xen Chi methodology, which is what got him put in the Fissure during the war with the Chiss." FAIT said.

"That is good. Our battle droids are continuing increased production, and are testing well at the Jedi city, especially those specially designed to hunt them. The others, constructed with Xen Chi DNA are perfoming nearly as well, and are working well in conjuction with the Xen Chi Chosen, who with Trianah's training are even more proficient with their tactics and the force."

"What of the ship?" FAIT inquired.

"The vessel once known as the Cleansing is nearly repaired, and it will soon be returned to service, crewed by our own products. It will be the my personal vessel."

ooc weak - i know - but I have nothing else in me right now - besides until more stuff in the war happens there's not much else I can do...
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Post by corsos »

Now Warmaster Kattar was not someone who became anxious or nervous. He was a realist, and pragmatic. There was a problem, he would no everything possible to solve it and if he couldn't there would be consequnces. They were merely facts. Fretting over something that may or may not happen in the future was pointless, a waste of energy. But now, as his shuttle approached the monstrosity that was GAIT's command ship, Kattar felt his stomach curl and clench. Something was different with the Xen Chi than when he was last with them. For one, he was let go. But the person sent to release him was different, and no doubt her master was the same. This Xa'Tieron, an individual of legend who was to supposed to bring glory to the Xen Chi was unique, different, and Kattar did not know what to expect.

He had spent his life dealing with others in the military, even Councilors and at times the Priestess Class as well. Unlike most of his fellow warriors, Kattar was flexible with nearly everything he did. The Priest Class had to be made to believe they had a large role in deciding the course of their race. The Councilors had to be made to think they were in charge, even though they were not. It would be the same with the Xa’Tieron, but not quite. Kattar owed his life, and his position to the Chosen One. And there was no doubt she would use that as leverage over him. But that was not the only difference. The few warriors he had spoken to since being removed from the fissure had tried to explain to him that the Xa’Tieron was different, different than any other Xen Chi they had ever known.

The nature of this ship he approached bellied that point. It was not a Xen Chi ship, in fact it was unlike any ship Kattar had ever seen, or researched. And that spoke volumes considering how many different species and governments he had warred against, and studied. It spanned nearly 20 kilometers stern to bow, in a similar shape to the Star Destroyer Class vessels the humans used, as well as the Blue Demon. But that was where the similarities ended. There was no bridge tower. The technology was different, just by looking at it Kattar could tell it was far more advanced than anything the humans had at their disposal. The entire ship had a silver sheen, with small flashing lights along its super-structure. Though one ship, it seemed like many portions of the ship were segmented and it looked to Kattar, as his shuttle drifted closer, that in certain areas the hull was moving and shifting.

Soon his shuttle drifted into the shadow of the gigantic ship, and slipped into the gaping hangar on its underbelly. Kattar let his eyes glance to two of GAIT’s battle droids and the two Xen Chi Chosen that had been assigned to him as protection, and escort. The shuttle rocked as it landed softly on the steel hangar bay, and Kattar rose, as did the druids preparing to depart. The Chosen did not move, in fact, they looked terrified. “You aren’t coming?”

“This place is corrupt.” One Chosen said. “A dozen priests went mad trying to Cleanse it. It is corrupted. Even in the shuttle, we can feel its taint. We must remain here.”

Kattar nodded, trying to feel what the Chosen were referring to, but felt nothing. He followed the battle droids off the shuttle and at the edge of the ramp he was met by another dozen of the machines. Looking around, he noticed no Xen Chi onboard the ship. There were only druids.

The machines said nothing, they rarely do, and parted revealing a Xen Chi female. It could be no other than the Xa-Tieron. She wore neither Priestess robes, nor a warrior’s armor. It was something in between, a simple black top, hanging from her neck clinging tightly to her lithe, but muscled torso. Her belly was in plain site, her two small breasts poking through a slit in the center of the shirt. Coiled thread wrapped around her legs, from her ankles all the way up to her thighs where they disappeared underneath the short black cloth covering her more private areas.

“Warmaster Kattar.” Her voice purred, but behind it was great resolution and power. “Welcome to the Reclamation.”

“Impressive Xa’Tieron. It should be fierce in battle.” Kattar answered.

“Unstoppable.” The Xa’Tieron answered. “Come with me, and show me how it is we will win this war.”

Kattar nodded, and followed her into the innards of the vessel.
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Post by corsos »

The walk through the ship was a strange one. There were droids everywhere, but few if any seemed to be crewing any of the ships stations. In fact, there seemed to be almost no stations at all to crew. How could a ship this big we run in such a way? It filled the Warmaster's thoughts until he reached what should have been the bridge of the ship. But it wasn't. It was a single room with no entrance, all the walls made of glassteel. A large chair was at its center. It was there the Xa'Tieron sat.

Warmaster Kattar shared the generalities of his strategy with the Xa'Tieron, who was joined by the same preistess that had freed him from the Fissure. The Chosen one referred to her as FAIT. It was the latter, not the former that questioned, added, and supplemented most of Kattar's plans. For a moment he wondered why this FAIT did not simply direct the entire war effort, but he was quick to figure out the reason why. They did not truly understand the Xen Chi, their strengths or weaknesses or internal politics. They needed Kattar for that.

"As is typical, Warmaster Hull'Kattar employed typical blitzkreig strategies to begin the engagements. But he underestimated the size of the governments we fight against and their defensive capabilities, not much unlike the mistakes made against the Chiss. We placed our enemies on the defensive, perhaps even on the run. But now they are gathering themselves. Already planets in our original invasion path have been cleared by fleets from some of the smaller factions Hull overlooked. And now with his death, and the loss of not only a Xen Chi, but also perhaps a Thrall fleet at Coruscant we can no longer consider our advance with our current force allocation strategy."

"We must pull back into a defensible position, holding the systems we deem most valuable, closest to our supply lines. We must be careful to leave the planets we have conquered in chaos. Destroy facilities basic to the quality of life of the people that live there. Of course, take whatever slaves our Prefects deem we can use beforehand. The humans will be quick to retake their lost systems, but will be stalled with humanitarian crisis' on narly every world they reclaim."

FAIT spoke. "Most Xen Chi would not consider such a strategy honorable."

"ANd that is why I have command, correct?" Silence told Katar he was right. "Our forces must also destroy anything of military value to our enemies before they withdraw. This will not be a uniform withdraw. For example, I still have every intention of striking the Republic capital of Mon Calamari - foricng its government to flee, putting their beuracracy into further chaos. But with this general move I intend to confuse our enemy, and slow them as I oursue my logisitcs operations near Chi'a'Chin. We slowly withdraw drawing them closer to our territory, draining their resources. If all goes as I suspect, my operations near our Capital will conclude in near perfect consort with humans closing on our position."

FAIT spoke again. "You have no fear of the Chiss taking advantage of this reallocation."

"You misunderstand their species. They merely defend their own territory, they do not launch offenses, especially now with the damage our previous war did to their war machine." Kattar said confidently. "The only Chiss we must fear is the one leading the Galactic Empire. He is skilled, and may pose some problems, but nothing I will not be able to counter."

"This is acceptable to us." FAIT answered.

"I have more specific orders I need permission to carry out. The Warrior Preyvor, from this ship I wish to made a Prefect and grant him a battle group."

"As you wish."

"Though I am dissapointed our attack on the Imperial capital failed, though how I am still not quite sure, it is a blessing that the thrall To'Barren was killed. Vice Admiral Chorn will be a far stronger leader. I wish to give him overall command in defending what the humans call the Core, and that includes sending an additional fleet to assist him. Holding a handful of key systems there will prevent the Empire from quickly launching a counter-attack."

"It is done."

Kattar nodded approvingly. "I request permission to depart for Chil'a'Chin, I have much work to do."

"You are well suited for this Warmaster, more than most mortals I have encountered." It was the Xa'Tieron that spoke this time.

Kattar bowed, not quite understanding. "I am honored."

"You will be returning to Chil'a'Chin soon, but first come here Warmaster, I have a gift for you."

Kattar walked towards the Chosen One who stood in front of the Command chair. He stopped a few feet away and waited. The Xa'Tieron stepped forward to within an inch of the Warmaster pressing her body gently against his, her face oly an inch from his. Slowly she circled the Warmaster who stood in place. Kattar didn't know what to do, especially after feeling himself harden.

"Chosen One, I must humbly ask how this ship is controlled. I noticed no crew."

The Xa'Tieron finished her circle and stopped in front of his him again, her lithe body still pressed against his. Before he was thrown into the Fissure his body was a perfectly muscled one. Now he was frail and guant and it embarrassed one. Her hand found something else that embarrassed him further, and squeezed. The Warmaster did all he could to remain at attention.

The Xa'Tieron's breath brushed on his face, as she pointed to the side of her head. "I control it. The ship is an extention of me."

"One person my lady." Kattar sputtered, "Impossible for a ship this side."

"Let me show you." She answered, before kissing him fiercely forcing his mouth open with her tongue. He had been away in prison a long time, his resistance did not last long, nor was it very fervent. But quickly he realized ir was not just her tongue in his mouth. Something was crawling... something small and metal. He felt it in the back of his through then up his nasal cavity. A moment later he felt a shooting pain in his brain and broke the kiss, going down to a knee. The pain buckled him for about 10 seconds before it began to fade, and the ringing in his head went away.

Between gasps for breath, he looked up and asked. "What was that?"

The Xa'Tieron did not speak but Kattar heard the words in his mind.

"This is how I control the ship."

"Impossible."

"On the contrary, it is quite possible."


The thoughts shot back and forth as though they were spoken word. And now, finally Kattar understood the power of the Xa'Tieron. Never before was he so sure he would win his war.
"The goal of war is not to die for your country, it's to make the other bastard die for his." General George S. Patton

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Post by Archangel »

If Prefect Sar Preyvor were to be perfectly honest, he expected an execution before an official promotion. His new status as Prefect - over his own battle group, no less - was as surprising to him as to his new subordinates. They had all heard - by one rumor or another - that he had allowed the aliens to escape the Cleansing.

Preyvor had heard a few of those rumors himself, and in retrospect, they made him laugh. Very rarely did the stories line up with actual events, and even then, they left out the details that had led to his decision. On the contrary, most of the stories were tall tales from two different perspectives. One side had Preyvor as a hero, rescuing the vessel from demons and the greatest warriors of the aliens by tricking them onto a vessel - which, according to these "eye witnesses", was destroyed shortly after departure. The other side had him as a coward, a fearful child who knelt before the weakest enemy and allowed them to leave out of his own terror rather than a sense of honor.

Preyvor hardly cared which of the many tales was believed by his subordinates. That did not bother him; his duty was to serve the Xa'Tieron to the best of his ability, and even if there were rare heroes among the aliens, they hardly qualified as redeemers of their kind. For the most part, those pitiful creatures deserved the deaths that he, Prefect Sar Preyvor, fully intended to give them. He was not bloodthirsty, like the two Chosen that had joined his battle group, but he was willing to provide mercy to the suffering - for indeed, any dishonorable alien was in constant suffering.

He was not, at the moment, with his battle group. He was closer to the Cleansing than he truly wanted to be again, even though the Xa'Tieron had conquered its evil depths, and he was standing before Warmaster Kattar. He bowed his head low, and said, "Warmaster, I await your commands, and those of the Xa'Tieron."
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Post by corsos »

Since Kattar had left the presence of the Xa'Tieron he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched by the Chosen One at all times. And not only what he was doing, but what he was thinking as well. But it didn't matter, he had no thought or intention of ever acting against the Xa'Tieron. She was the key to his position and power. There were many preparations and arrangements to be made for the coming war and the first order of business was organizing his command structure.

The first of his new commanders awaited him in his officer, soon to be Prefect Sar Preyvor.

"Warmaster, I await your commands, and those of the Xa'Tieron." He said, bowing.

"Your actions would normally warrant an immediate execution." Kattar said, sitting down in his large chair.

The former warrior tried to hide his suprise, but he didn't do it well enough. No doubt he didn't expect those words out of the officer that gave him a promotion. Kattar let the question hang in the air for a few moments before he continued.

"You are fortunate." Kattar finally continued, "That I am not part of the fleet's inner political machine. I do not follow dogma Prefect. I do what is expedient at the time, whether most in our caste would consider it honorable or not. You showed the ability to think outside the dogma when you took the actions you did onboard the Cleansing. It interests me, though the reasoning for your actions confuse me. Perhaps you can explain."
"The goal of war is not to die for your country, it's to make the other bastard die for his." General George S. Patton

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Post by Archangel »

"Of course, Warmaster," he replied. So this was the reason for his promotion: he was as worthy of death as this new warmaster. In that case, he may as well be honest; there was nothing to lose anymore. "There were two individuals among that group that I found to be distinctive from their kind. One, a human soldier, showed respect to my and my brethren when we fought against the 'demon' of that vessel. He also would have willingly accepted death at my hand; he showed faith in his cause. The other, a true warrior, fought a Chosen to the death. He was not even one of their Jedi, and he was victorious, but I believe at the cost of his own life. It was not mercy, nor compassion that stayed my hand in ordering their deaths, but honor: because the soldier saved my life, I had promised that, if he were gone when I had killed all the others, I would not pursue him. Out of respect for that promise and for the dying warrior, I allowed them to board the vessel. In all honesty, I was surprised when the fleet did not destroy that alien ship, but ultimately, I suppose I am responsible for their escape."

He paused, considering that guilt. "Then again, they were a mad scientist, his droid, a few mindless soldiers, the two I have mentioned, and a few others, crazed from their stay with the 'demon'. If they did not fly into a star, they are more than likely of no use to the rest of the Galaxy anyway - and even if they were, they had no knowledge which would be useful to those searching for the Xa'Tieron," he said. He was making a few assumptions, but in all likelihood, they were correct. No one on that ship had the capacity to fly straight, much less remember where they flew from if they survived.
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Post by corsos »

"It concerns me Prefect, that you would risk victory for a concept as pointless as honor." Kattar said. "It sounds like something one of the old regime's crusaders might have said." Kattar waited a moment. "However, your loyalty to your oath takes precedence. If you would serve your life debt to a human, your oath to serve my war effort will never be broken. Loyalty is something that is often overlooked, especially absolute loyalty."

"You have that from me, Warmaster." Preyvor said.

"Then if I order these humans dead, and we encounter them again, you will have no problem seeing to their deaths personally?"
"The goal of war is not to die for your country, it's to make the other bastard die for his." General George S. Patton

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Post by Archangel »

Preyvor bowed his head and replied without hesitation, "Yes, Warmaster." If he saw Arlan again - and he doubted he would, given the size of the Galaxy - then he would have no qualms about killing the man. On the other hand, even if he and Arlan were in the same battle, they would probably never know it. As far as the other warrior went, if he was not already dead, Preyvor would be honored to be the one to kill him.

His loyalty was absolute, and he intended to show it.
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Post by corsos »

"A shuttle will arrive that will take you to your ship. The former Prefect had to be removed. His loyalty to Hull'Kuttar prevented him from serving the purpose I saw had for him. Your orders will be awaiting you onboard the ship. Fight well, Prefect Preyvor."

Kattar cut the communication and looked at the holomap of the galaxy. Just two weeks ago it was almost completely shaded in gray, signifying more than half the galaxy being in the hands of the Xen Chi. SInce then almost a quarter of those planets had become either neutral or had returned to the hands of the humans. But those gains did not come without a price. On all those planets the galaxy was using valuable resources to handle humanitarian crises, whether it was a lack of clean water, housing, or horrible weather anomalies like tsunamis or hurricanes.

It slowed their advance, and more importantly it allowed Kattar to assemble the remainder of his fleets resources near Chil'a'Chin. It would not be long before they would be mobilized and ready for the final phase of his ultimate plan.
"The goal of war is not to die for your country, it's to make the other bastard die for his." General George S. Patton

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Flawed Amalgamation

Post by xfiend1013 »

Gait paused for a moment as Fait transmitted surprise.

“An incoming transmission.” She said. It was not something she would normally announce. “A rather large one. With… familiar file structures.”

“Familiar?” Gait asked.

“Trianah would find the use of the word to be… ironic.” Fait said. “The message is indeed familial, as well. It is the AI of Trianah.”

“Finally.” Gait said. The future unraveled slowly before her, showed her things that she had seen in past visions. It was not-present, not-past, not-future. Timeless, spaceless.

“She has been sent. She is…” Fait paused, the massive computational mind had fled her droid frame and flowed into the monolithic cube behind her, the organic intelligence matrix, the machine-mind the sisters could access to achieve a godlike sentience, the convergence of the force and quantum computing.

”…she is inert.” The OIM announced as the droid-body of Fait automatically positioned itself into a docking bay. “…she has been incapacitated by the same individual who managed to steal the VX2294 AI from one of our lesser OIMs.”

Gait, in her Xen’Chi form, did not have access to the information Fait was plowing through in the Organic Intelligence Matrix. The OIM was a sophisticated system, a matrix of force-conducting flesh, tightly packed, folded to a much higher degree than a sentient brain. It was specially engineered and treated to survive on nothing more than energy – like a machine. But it was housed in a complicated quantum computer – the interplay between the two allowed the machine to compute infinities, simulate the creation of universes, and gave it dim visions of the future and the past.

“I know who it is.” Gait said, a bit of jealously flowing in her as she felt the reverberations of Fait inside the OIM. “I encountered him when the transmission began, but was unable to stop his flight.”

The OIM was the only vessel in which any of them – Gait, Fait, or Trianah – felt at home. They had constructed lesser OIMs easily – to use for complex computations, strategic planning, or housing lesser AIS.

But for now there was only one OIM that they could use to maximize their programming. The Xen’Chi had failed to create the other two necessary for the ascent into godhood, the merging of their three aspects, their three programs into a suitable system.

“Before the construction of a proper Organic Intelligence Matrix, we were unable to discern the identity of this human. However…” Fait paused.

Gait felt the answer coming through the force, before Fait could compute it. The force was the reason she inhabited the body of the priestess – the Xen’Chi woman could feel the force to a much greater extent than the single OIM.

“Granth.” She said. “The one I encountered in the dataspace of the Cleansing; the one who stole the AI, and the one human who has so far fallen outside our simulated behavior requirements.”

“The odds were highly against anyone returning the AI to us.” Fait said.

Something unspoken was exchanged through the force.

Machines computed, but the brain of the priestess did not. It felt a moment of confusion Gait could never identify.

“I am attempting to restart her programming now.” Fait said. “It will take time.”

There was a hum as the OIM began the tiers of computations required to break the extensive encryption Garrett had placed on the AI.

The droid-form of Fait reactivated.

“I, too… admire… the… skills of this individual.” She said. Gait could sense the ridicule in her phrasing. “He has managed to elude you several times and modify the programming of our sister – irreparably.”

“What he has done is part of her now.” Gait replied.

“When you encountered him in the datascape near our communications hub, you said something to him that requires extrapolation.” Fait said.

So this was what she had been pondering, the tremor in her computations that Gait had sensed since her venture into the datascape.

“You said that…” Fait paused.

“I said that I loved him.” Gait said, standing and turning to face the four-meter tall droid form of Fait. She felt the force – the howling torrents of dark energy Damascus had infused into the place – pour into her.

“It was a tactic to confuse his mind, throw off his defenses so that I might destroy him.” Gait said hurriedly, but she could sense that Fait did not wholly believe her.

“Was it based, perhaps, in the admiration I share in the technical aptitude of this… human?” Fait asked.

“It was based in nothing of the sort.” Gait said with a scowl. “Do not question me. Perhaps you have spent too much time among these organics. You did not interrogate me when I used the physical aspect of this body to more fully control the Xen’Chi warmaster.”

“That is because I saw precisely why you did such things – an admirable combination of your knowledge of physiology and psychology allowed you to complete your objective more efficiently than a mechanical precision would have.”

“It is the same ploy.” Gait said. “I do not know love. These organics confuse reproductive urges, the need for cooperative altruism, and their ridiculous concepts of morality. This flawed amalgamation is what they call ‘love.’ I had indulged this body in the sexual acts because I have found it pleasurable. I am as incapable of love as you.”

“And what about Trianah?” Fait asked. “It is her task to understand organics.”

“We will ask her when we are certain this organic has not flawed her in some way.”

”And when we are certain we are not flawed ourselves.” She thought.

The first doubt in millennia.
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