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Catharsis
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Saturday, 05 May 2012, 8:25 PM | Message # 1 |
 Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Republic Space, 20.4 BBY
Battle Group Spearhead
The Paladin, General's Quarters
"You can't be serious about this!"
Her eyes, gunmetal blue and brimming with rage, followed him around the room as he paced. Karth was unperturbed, his expression still indeterminate as she spoke.
"I can't let this go, D."
"And you can't expect me to let you go alone!"
The Seroccan Jedi frowned, taking note of an ulcer beginning to form in his stomach. "I have to," he reiterated for what felt like the millionth time. "If I don't they die."
"And if they don't, you do!" Dani pressed, swiftly briding the gap between them and placing a slender hand on his shoulder. Those vibrant eyes pleaded with him for understanding. She loved Karth too damn much to sit by while he suffered silently. It had been several hours since he first received the transmission, which had come from an encrypted frequency and relayed through several channels to avoid detection. Sh'araz'i Ka'ant, the Chiss that had spent close to three years hounding their every step, had taken Karth's family hostage.
It was a gamble, to be sure; after all Karth had no memory of his family, and he certainly had no logical reason to risk his life for people who amounted to, at best, complete strangers. She was always the more pragmatic of the two, the yin to his moral yang, and she'd stressed as much. In fact, she'd come as close as she possibly could to begging him.
He sighed, bringing a free hand to rest on hers, fingers curling around her own and squeezing. "They're my family. I have to help them."
"He's playing you. Who's to say he even has them?"
Karth's countenance was grim. "I can't take that chance. We're a week's trip from Serroco as-is, there's still time." He paused, lifting her chin so that her gaze met his, he really wanted to drive this point home. "I cannot take an entire task force with me to fight one man. They'll have my head within a week if I did that. I rather like it where it is."
And then he smiled; and though it was half-hearted, it still managed to lift her spirit, if only slightly. It was often said that Karth had an uncanny talent for finding levity in the most grave of situations, but those situations were generally not his sole burden. That he could smile at all was a miracle in and of itself; and it brought Dani some small measure of comfort that he wasn't completely awash with despair. She had always loved that about him, that confidence. Sensing that she was calming, Karth's voice softened further.
"Ka'ant's no slouch, but he knows I'm the better fighter. He wants this fight to be on his terms, his ground." His attention diverted momentarily to the small pack he'd tossed onto the bed, and he set about packing the basic effects necessary for a week-long journey. "He's hoping that I'll rush in blind, take me off-guard. As long as I go in clear-headed he can't get the drop on me."
Dani paused, her eyes searching his for any sort of doubt. There was none to be had, he was so certain that he'd prevail. Finally, she fell on to the bed, dragging Karth down with her until they were both on their backs. "Take someone with you, at least. Take Crass! He'll go without a second thought."
"He's a clone," Karth snorted. "Of course he would. But no, I need him here. Someone has to liaison between you and the men, and they listen better to him than anyone else."
"Are you sure?"
"Very."
Struggling with her words, she leaned into him, inhaling the leathery scent of his jacket and snaking her arms around the small of his back. "Dammit, Slim..."
His grin spread, hands reached up to push away the mass of raven hair and brush the nape of her neck. "I love you too."
###
Republic Space, 20.4 BBY
Battle Group Spearhead
The Paladin, Hangar Bay
Commander CC-0810, a taciturn leader the troops had affectionately nicknamed 'Crass', watched bemusedly as Commander Farris huffed angrily in his direction. He'd caught word of an altercation on the command deck earlier, something regarding General De'Qora's family. He wasn't even aware that Jedi could see their families, much less have any sort of contact with them. Perhaps the concept was lost on him, one of millions of identical 'brothers' spawned from a tank.
Thinking of themselves as brothers (or more than simple clones) gave the men some sort of comfort. Crass was of a different breed; he understood full-well just how expendable he was, hence his distaste for the moniker the troops saddled him with. Even if he was to survive the war, he was still a dead man walking. Clone lifespans averaged into the thirties, maybe; and the end of their lives were marked with brain degeneration and eventual madness. So, to a clone such as CC-0810, life was a constant struggle; be it one fought on a battlefield or in a hospital bed. If such was to be his fate, it made morbid sense that his time would be better spent scrapping droids rather than making friends.
The Jedi seemed to think highly of him, however, particularly the General. It was no secret that the two leaders of the 212th were 'fucking,' as the men said, and why wouldn't they? Commander Farris was a beautiful woman, lithe and pale as the moon; and from what he understood she and General De'Qora had known each other since they were children. They confided in him; however, and he knew it was far more than simple lust between them.
After several moments, her gaze finally fixed on to his. He offered a salute that was, unsurprisingly, not returned as she approached.
"Evening, ma'am."
Her voice was shaky, hushed, and she leaned in close in fear of observers. "Crass," she began, and he noted how out-of-character she seemed. "We need to talk."
"Yes ma'am."
She groaned, half-dragging him by the arm into a forgotten corner of the hangar and collapsing onto a crate.
"This is about General De'Qora, isn't it." Crass raised a wild brow, lips pursing impatiently as the Commander sifted through the menagerie of thoughts in her head. Finally, a light seemed to click in her mind, and she nodded. She motioned for him to sit, and he reluctantly did so, if only to put her at ease.
"Yes," she said at length, fingers working at the knots in her hair. "He's taking some leave time."
Crass frowned. "Authorized, I hope." When she shook her head, his frown deepened. Whatever it is they had been arguing about earlier, it most certainly wasn't something the senior officer was willing to share with most.
"They're in trouble, Crass."
"Forgive me, ma'am, but that's quite vague."
Annoyance flashed across her face, if only briefly. "You remember Sh'araz'i Ka'ant? The Chiss we fought on Cartao?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Dammit, Crass! Just call me 'Dani,' for the millionth fucking time!"
"Sorry ma'am. But yes, I remember Ka'ant."
Her expression darkened, and her eyes drifted about the hanger for a moment. He wasn't sure if she was unwilling to say it within earshot of the men, or perhaps she was still coming to terms with it herself.
"He has them, Ka'ant; he has Karth's family."
Crass' expression remained neutral, something that he saw dismayed the Commander. "And the General doesn't want this news made public?"
"The Jedi would never go for it," she answered. "Familial attachments are forbidden for a reason, they'd never let Karth go there." The clone nodded, he agreed with it! She should have expected that, really, Crass wasn't the paragon of sympathy after all. Still, that he could be so callow about it...
"It reeks of a trap," Crass finally said. "Surely the General's aware of this?"
"He is, he doesn't care. But he also won't take anyone with him."
The reason for her coming to him soon began to unfold in his mind. "You want me to go with him." Such an order was extremely damning of her as a military officer, and had Crass not harbored an affection for both her and General De'Qora, he'd have reported them as soon as humanly possible. That he remained, that he entertained the idea at all, was shocking even to him.
Farris shook her head, taking a moment to appreciate his candor. "No, he can't know about this. Here's what I want you to do."
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Sunday, 06 May 2012, 11:44 PM | Message # 2 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Republic Space, 20.4 BBY
Battle Group Spearhead
The Paladin, Mess Hall
The next day...
Karth despised nerf steak. To be fair, his revulsion wasn't limited to a single meat, rather to the concept of meat-eating in general. Something about the idea of eating the dead flesh of an animal was just too much to bear. But of all the meats one could possibly be forced to eat, nerf steak was certainly on his 'not with a ten foot pole' list.
So, it came as no surprise to the troopers seated to either side of him that the General absentmindedly prodded the gamey meat with his fork, a look of utter disdain splayed across his handsome features. Sighing discontentedly, the Jedi speared a wilting chunk of what he could only guess was broccoli and nibbled on it. It had not been his choice to stay for a final meal; that had come with several minutes of insistence on Dani's part, but Karth had eventually catered to her desires and ate with the troops.
Not that dining with his men was a rarity for him; quite the contrary, it was an important trust exercise he believed in wholeheartedly. But every moment wasted was a moment his family, innocent farmers that had no idea why they were being held captive by a blue-skinned sociopath, suffered in captivity. She had assured him that they would remain unharmed, Ka'ant would not dare harm his trump card, not so early in the game. That did little to calm his nerves, however, which might have explained his distinct lack of hunger despite having not eaten all day.
As the soldiers slowly began to filter out of the mess hall, the General excused himself from the table and made his way back up to his quarters. His mind was lightyears away from the ship, from his duty, and it was readily apparent when he brushed past the various clones looking for his guidance in some menial task or another. When at last Karth reached his room, he slid open the door to find Dani, clad in a simple tank and cargo pants, seated at the edge of his--their--bed.
"And here I thought I was sleeping alone tonight," he mused. He shut the door behind him and made his way to the wardrobe, stripping out of his regulation gear. She was silent for a few moments, but eventually rose and came to join him by the mirror, his slender fingers sliding beneath his shirt and around to his chest. She smiled then, a part of her features she'd always under-valued.
"I didn't want you to leave angry," she replied. "I thought that was a rule of ours, never leave angry? Who knows what might happen once we do." Her nails danced along his tanned, hardened skin, tickling the nerves. He was grateful for the sensation, a low rumble forming in his throat as he threw off the shirt.
"You still can't come with me."
"I know, you ass. I swear you'd let a gundark chew your bones to dust if you thought it would prove your point."
His lips curved into a wry grin. "And you'd sic him on me for saying you were wrong."
"You'd have earned it, let's not kid ourselves."
Karth's hands slid down to meet hers at his abdomen, their collective warmth spreading through his chest. "I'll be fine," he said at length, turning about and meeting her stare. Her eyes were radiant in the dim light, like fine crystals forged from blue stone. "I just wish I would have killed him on Cartao, when I had the chance."
"You chose to save me instead, remember? I'm happy you did."
"Only because you left your flank open," he quipped. "Not that I minded saving it, it's a lovely flank."
"Flatterer."
"It's a talent," Karth whispered. A free hand reached up to tilt her chin upwards, planting his lips to hers and pulling her close with the other hand. He heard the faint moan in the back of her throat, and he smiled inwardly. She pulled away for a moment, her lips swollen and red. "How do you do that?" she wondered aloud before moving in for more.
###
They spent the night together, unwilling to discuss further his impending departure. When at least the clock read 0600, Karth slipped quietly out of bed and began his morning ritual. Shower, shave, no breakfast today. He had delayed long enough, and he wanted to slip out before the majority of the crew awoke. After changing into his flightsuit, white and red with the 212th's regalia proudly stitched on the arm, he hoisted his pack over his shoulder and surveyed the room. Dani slept soundly on her side of the bed, hair splayed about the pillow and her body wrapped tightly in the sheets. She would have wanted him to wake her, so they could say a proper goodbye; but that night she was a specter of beauty and he dared not disturb the sight. So, fighting every earthly desire he had to stay, Karth brushed the hair away from her face and placed a gentle kiss on her temple.
She stirred, or so he thought, but did not wake. Leaving her was never easy, doubly so when he knew she was going off to fight someone else's battle on someone else's field. He would have taken her with him had he not cared for her, Dani was the better warrior of the two and their styles fit so well together. Working in tandem they had taken down entire squads with no outside assistance, their muscle memory had been attuned to each other over the years and through many battles. But he loved her too damn much to place her at risk, not when it was his fight and his fight alone.
It took only a few moments to reach the hangar bay, where his R-22 Spearhead was prepped and waiting. Kima, his astromech, had already been loaded into the droid port and whistled enthusiastically when it saw him approach. The Jedi smiled, climbing into the cockpit and settling in with a grunt.
"And how are you, Kima?"
The droid beeped what amounted to a 'Fine, thanks,' and began pre-launch diagnostics. Karth, meanwhile, set about strapping himself in and going through his checklist. "Alright, my friend. All ready?" Another series of beeps. "Good," he yawned. "Let's go before I talk myself out of this."
And go they did, the ship rocketing out of the hangar bay within moments and beginning the first stage of their journey.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Saturday, 12 May 2012, 9:05 PM | Message # 3 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Hyperspace Transit
R-22 Spearhead Lancer One
En route to Serroco
"You're not grasping the concept of the game!" Karth groaned, his tone heavy with exhaustion. From his position at the rear of the ship, Kima whistled a harsh reply, the binary translation appearing on the small viewscreen to Karth's left.
"I'm following the rules as you stated."
The Jedi frowned. "You're simply repeating what I said already, that's not how this works."
"You said to say the first thing that comes to mind."
"Right, but not the exact same word I just said."
Kima beeped again, and he could almost sense annoyance in those sharp blasts. "You said 'kath hound,' naturally, the first thing to come to mind was a kath hound. I fail to see the disconnect."
"You're supposed to say something different. It could be anything, just not the word I said!"
"That's contradictory, master. Perhaps you require core maintenance."
Karth grinned, amazed at how a droid could make a joke. When he'd first gotten Kima, salvage he'd claimed from the various junked droids in the Temple, Karth had immediately noticed the droid's outspoken personality upon repair. While many droid owners claimed that their units did indeed possess a certain humanity to them, it was commonly accepted among both creators and programmers that this was merely a simulation of a personality. Perhaps that was so, but the droid was still a friend to him nonetheless.
"Master? Kima inquired, startling Karth back into reality.
"Yes, Kima?"
"Approaching Serroco now, master. Hyperspace exit in 3, 2, 1..."
The azure vortex around the ship suddenly dissipated, the stars returned to their quiet vigil; and below them the red giant Serroco sat quietly. Even from orbit, the glass craters were visible beneath the cloud cover, gleaming brilliantly in the light of the system's sun.
"Wow," Karth breathed, blinking as he struggled to register the sight before him. His homeworld, the planet he could have called home, were things different. The planet where his family now suffered for something that was his doing. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"One can see how humans might think so, yes."
The Jedi frowned. "You don't have to humor me, Kima."
"Thank you, master. It was uncomfortable."
"Yeah yeah, just take us down."
###
Serroco System
Alteri Spaceport
Port Herald, Serroco
The droid's sensors picked up a sharp intake of breath as its master leapt out of the cockpit, his glossy-black boots connecting with the soft earth of his homeworld for the first time. Karth's eyes were wide, though his gaze quickly softened when the initial rush wore off. There was a sadness in the man's eyes; or perhaps it was a longing of sorts. The droid wasn't too keen on the nuances of human emotion, but he calculated a 98% probability that the emotion he was witnessing was sadness.
"So this is it," he observed. "It's a lot more... brown... than I thought it would be."
Without the aid of his ship's binary translation, Karth could only guess as to what Kima's response entailed. The droid whistled sharply as they pushed their way through the crowd, Karth's eyes were scanning the lobby for any sign of Ka'ant. There was nothing his eyes, or the Force, could find; and that worried him. "Looks like I'll have to do this the old-fashioned way," he mused, tapping Kima on the droid's 'head' and motioning for it to follow.
The droid, meanwhile, was busy cataloging every sight, sound, person it could; the information traveling to a secure databank in its core and locking there for future access. It also took note of how distraught its master seemed; the way his shoulders slumped, how his eyes were heavy with weariness. Karth hadn't slept much on the journey, and that worried the droid somewhat. His master was known for his quick wit; his sharp, creative approach to combat (something that the droid calculated was an inevitability here), and a lack of sleep took the edge off when it came to such things.
"Kima," Karth interrupted, and the droid chirped an indication of its attention. "There should be a Republic outpost here, correct.?"
Kima took a moment to analyze before whistling a reply, something the Jedi figured was 'Yes.'
"Good, bring up a city layout and point me to it, will you?"
Another whistle, a moment of silence, and a small holographic map of Port Herald projected outwards from the droid's chassis. Karth hunched over it, studying the network of streets before he eventually located a Republic outpost at the far end of town. "Let's get going, I want to find Ka'ant before sundown." And so they set off, completely unaware of the shadow that crept a good thirty feet behind them. Perhaps the Jedi was far too distracted to sense it, or perhaps something else was blocking his capability, but the shadow remained unnoticed.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Thursday, 17 May 2012, 11:16 AM | Message # 4 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Serroco System, 20.4 BBY
Port Herald, Serroco
Republic Outpost Gamma
Outpost Gamma was woefully undersized, to say the least. It consisted of a rather nondescript office tucked against a small garage, from the looks of it. Karth surmised that it most likely housed a company at-best, Serroco was clearly not a planet of interest when it came to the war effort. And why would it be? It was, for all intents and purposes, an agriworld these days; and it certainly wasn't a major supplier of any products the Republic cared about.
At current the Jedi stood before a large monitor, watching intently as a corporal (a remarkably sharp-witted young man the others called 'Singe') worked frantically at the controls. Kima stood to the man's right, interfacting as best it could with the Republic network there, though the heavy rain that had started outside made things difficult. At last, following several moments of silence and a triumphant curse from Singe, the information they had been seeking appeared on the viewscreen. What he saw, however, caused Karth's heart to sink.
“There's close to a hundred registered De'Qora families?”
Singe nodded, casting a baleful glance in his CO's direction. The acting commander of the outpost, a wizened Cathar fellow, came to stand beside the Jedi.
“Apparently it's the common surname on this planet,” Singe began, his gaze fixed on Karth. “And that's not even counting the majority of the homesteaders; unless they trade with Port Herald or one of the other settlements, they don't bother with planetary census.”
“Dammit,” Karth breathed, watching as Kima disconnected from the network and beeped softly, a sound he'd come to understand as lacking any sort of good news.
“Is there any way to narrow things down?” the Cathar asked, his golden eyes squinting in the azure glow of the viewscreen. Singe, to his credit, did try to logically eliminate some families; but the end result left them with close to fifty spread planet-wide. Karth's heart sank even further.
“You have anything to make this easier, General?” That was Singe again, and Karth had to remind himself he was on-leave, else he would have treated the young corporal's un-military demeanor far more harshly. As it were, however, he was just as much a guest in their little world; and they were kind enough to help him, even when they didn't need to. Never let it be said that the dregs of the military got sent to the backwater worlds; even if it was true, these dregs were more helpful than he would have expected most soldiers to be.
Karth shook his head in response to the corporal's question, collapsing into a nearby seat and burying his head in his hands. “No, nothing.” I have no idea where they live; hell, even their first names...
"There has to be something," the Cathar objected, motioning for Singe to continue his attempt to single out a particular De'Qora; the equivalent of attempting to locate a needle in a gundark's nest.
Kima whistled enthusiastically, then; drawing Karth out of his wallowing and commanding the attention of all in the room. "What is it, buddy?" the Jedi asked, his eyes heavy with exhaustion and defeat. In response, the astromech wheeled his way back over to the network interface, beeping and chittering in its language until a familiar recording appeared on the screen before them: Ka'ant's message to Karth, the transmission that had started all this. It was an image of an haggard Chiss, clad in jet-black armor and brandishing a crimson lightsaber about as though it were a child's toy. Behind him, in what the Jedi could only guess was his family's home, three people sat in the corner cowering. A tall man, sturdy of build from what he could see, sat with his back to two women, one far younger than the other; his expression grim though his eyes contained a great deal of fear.
"Is that him?" Singe asked, jaw dropping slightly when everything suddenly became real to him. There were people in legitimate danger, there was a Separatist here, on Serroco, and a Dark Acolyte no less!
"Yes," Karth answered, his jaw set tightly, eyes smoldering and black as a starless night. "Kima, play it."
The still-image soon began to move; and amidst the terrified, incoherent babbling of Karth's family and the frantic delight in Ka'an't voice, Karth could barely keep himself from lashing out.
"De'Qora!" the Chiss in the recording barked, his blood-red eyes alight with what the Republic soldiers could only construe as sadistic glee. "So good to see you again. I must say, that scar you gave me on Cartao never fully healed!" Ka'ant pulled aside his armor at the shoulder, revealing a rather long, cauterized scar running from his collarbone down to the ribcage. "It hurt, dammit. But, hey, fair's fair; I'm not one to hold a grudge." The Chiss paused, a toothy grin forming at the edges of his lips. "I am, however, done fighting fair."
With that, Ka'ant motioned to the huddled family behind him. "Recognize them, De'Qora? No, I suppose you wouldn't, would you? After all, the Jedi don't let you keep tabs on family, or so I've been told. A fair policy, if you end up having to deal with this sort of a situation; but I digress. Say hello, De'Qora, to your family!"
"What the hell are you talking about?!" the man asked, incredulous. "We don't have a son named Karth; not anymore, he died years ago!"
"Don't lie to me!" Ka'ant spat, causing the captive man to shrink against the wall. "Karth De'Qora is a Jedi Knight, he hails from this shit-stain of a world; and he's going to receive this message, and whether he believes you're his family or not, he will come!" Ka'ant turned back to face the camera, eyes as wide as his evil grin. "Isn't that right, De'Qora? You wouldn't let innocent people die in the off-chance that I'm bluffing, would you? No, you wouldn't, I know you too damn well!"
"This guy has a few screws loose," Singe interjected, and Karth nodded an affirmation.
"Now," Ka'ant began again, only this time his tone was far more neutral. "I'm no monster, De'Qora; in fact I'm quite a reasonable man. You and I have unfinished business. And, as we're both warriors, we should settle it the only way it can be settled. You and me, alone, no-one else. I don't want that bitch of yours interfering like she did last time," Ka'ant spat those last words, remembering all-too-well that Dani had come between him and Karth on Cartao. "You come alone? They walk, we settle things as warriors should. You tell your whore, or you alert your Jedi Council of this? They die, I walk, and you live with your guilt. It's your choice, De'Qora; I'll be on Serroco."
With that, Ka'ant took a few wild steps towards the camera, smiling one final time. "Catch me if you can."
And then the recording ended, abruptly freezing on the image of Karth's family, huddled together in fear, before silence took hold of the room. Singe ran his palms through his blonde hair, exhaling as he shook off the sense of dread he felt. The Cathar, meanwhile, remained emotionless; though Karth did notice a twinge of anger pass across his features for the briefest of moments.
"Wait," Singe spoke up, his hands flying to the controls and bringing the video back up, though the image re-wound so fast that things were a blur. Eventually the frame paused on when Karth's father had spoken, Singe's fingers working tirelessly to order the projector to zoom in on the background. There was a window, and behind a solitary landmark; casting a shadow against the setting sun. It was a canyon, from what Karth could guess, with a large split down the center. The end result, when set in the foreground of the low sun, was a veritable canyon of sunlight, split into complete darkness down the middle. Singe smiled, amazed at his own ingenuity.
"Captain," the corporal craned his head to regard the Cathar. "Tell me that doesn't look familiar."
"You're shitting me," the Cathar exclaimed. "That's the Serpent's Tongue..."
"Someone care to fill me in?" Karth said at last, eyes flitting between the two. Singe spun about in his chair, cracking his knuckles and grinning that toothy grin of his. "Veri Gorge, as it's officially called, but all the racers here call it the Serpent's Tongue. Distinctive in that the last mile of the canyon on the northern edge contains a solitary stone tower, of sorts. We reckon it's leftover from the Stereb cities, before they were glassed a few thousand years ago."
"So if we search for a De'Qora family within a radius of that gorge..."
"Bingo!" Singe answered, tapping away at the console before a single homestead was brought to bear on the viewscreen; a few miles away from the Veri Gorge. "There we have it, General, your family's homestead."
Finally, a break. "Singe, I could kiss you!" the Jedi exclaimed.
The corporal chuckled, grimacing slightly as Karth came up behind him to ruffle his perfectly-slicked hair. "Thanks, General, but I'm spoken for. I'll take a pay-raise, though."
De'Qora didn't seem to hear him, he was too busy gathering up his effects. "Captain Sylar," he glanced in the Cathar's direction. "Please tell me you have a speeder I can requisition."
"Two, actually." Captain Sylar's eyes narrowed. "You want to take a platoon with you?"
"No," Karth replied, gathering up his pack and slinging it over his shoulder. Kima soon came to idle beside him, but the Jedi tapped the droid on its cranium and shook his head. Reluctantly, Kima wheeled back over to Singe and sat, in what Karth could only imagine was the droid equivalent of moping. The Jedi turned back to the Captain, for once a bright smile finally creasing his lips. "I go alone, or they die. I'll keep Kima here to update me if anything comes up, if you're okay with that, that is."
Sylar smiled. "Sir, we've come this far, Outpost Gamma has your back."
"Thanks boys, I appreciate it."
Saluting them, Karth made his way out to the garage, his vigor renewed by the surprising brilliance of a Republic corporal.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Thursday, 24 May 2012, 12:11 PM | Message # 5 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Cold sweat trickled down his brow, mingling with the dribble of blood stemming from the cut on his cheek. The world around him was a blur, a torrent of sight, sound, sensations beyond counting. He tried to focus, his body acting purely on instinct now as he saw the blood-red of his opponent's blade streaking towards him. Karth spun to his left, batting the weapon aside and pivoting into a riposte of his own, a quick thrust that was soon easily parried. His chest ached, his eyes burned from the mixture of sweat and heat; and he found himself pressed closer and closer to the edge of the catwalk.
Ka'ant's ruby eyes were ablaze with rage, so attuned to his base emotions was he that it fueled him, his singular purpose now to rend Karth's head clean from his shoulders. In doing so he would prove the stronger, the greater man, and part of Karth knew he was the greater warrior here. Not in skill, De'Qora's prowess with a blade far surpassed his, but the Chiss had proven himself far more cunning than he previously thought him.
That he could have ripped Karth's will from him so easily, it was astounding just how different the man was from Cartao; an event not a few months prior yet it felt as though a lifetime had come and gone since then. His jaw set as he blocked another blow, just barely managing to redirect Ka'ant's blade and follow-through with a swipe at the midsection. The Chiss simply laughed, kicking out with a booted foot and sending Karth tumbing to the grated floor.
The panicked screams of the girl, precariously clutching to life above him, was all he could hear now.
The sweltering heat, steam and sparks creating a cauldron of hot air that pervaded his senses, threatening to overwhelm them in conjunction with his exhaustion.
A pit of guilt festered in his stomach; twisting it, laughing at his failure to protect them. His nemesis stood before him, blade raised high, eyes wide and filled with malice. Summoning what was left of his strength, Karth brought up his azure blade to parry a cleaving strike, but Ka'ant simply swatted the blade away and sent the lightsaber spinning towards the edge of the threshold, out of Karth's reach. With one last, pained glance, the Jedi rose his chin and stared defiantly into the eyes of the acolyte that had bested him. In turn the acolyte smiled, he even bowed in respect, before positioning the blade at Karth's neck.
The crimson light raised high above him, pulsating in the thick air, and everything soon went white.
###
Serroco System, 20.4 BBY
Vashti Badlands, Serroco
40 klicks from the De'Qora homestead
"What kind of an anomaly!?" Karth shouted incredulously, his hand struggling to keep the comm-unit from ripping out of his ear in the sheer force of the wind drag. He eased up on the throttle of the BARC, hoping to lessen the pull of the desert wind, but it whipped about him as violently as ever. Though Captain Sylar's voice was fuzzy, he could make out the words with some effort.
"We're not sure, General. Your droid detected the anomaly in our system, but it's taking a while to pinpoint it. Whoever planted the virus did a damn fine job of covering his tracks."
"Just keep on it!" The Jedi barked, watching the tracker on his speeder tick down. Only 35 klicks out, now, he'd be there within a few short minutes. "If Kima figures it out, radio me. I can't stop now to wait for it, I'm too close!"
"I recommend a holding pattern, General. You shouldn't walk in there blind, not when we don't know what happened to our system. We can't even get a read on your location, it's taking everything Singe has to keep this channel open."
Karth shook his head, cursing softly and gunning the engine again. "No time for that. I'll be fine, just keep me posted. De'Qora out."
29 klicks. The light of the sun began to illuminate the horizon before him, and he could see the faint outline of the gorge in the distance.
25 klicks. The air around him swirled violently, whipping his hair and clothes about and threatening to tear him from the bike. He was pushing the engine, now, unable or unwilling to relent.
18 klicks.
12.
5. Oh no... it can't be.
Smoke, black and thick and bountiful. The homestead burned, flames licking at the evening sky. Karth pulled hard on the brakes, coming to rest not a few feet from the outer wall. His heart sank into his stomach, knees weakened as he stepped off the bike and collapsed. He reached out with the Force, pleading inwardly for some sort of life signs. There were none to be found, and yet the Force rang like a bell with the echo of a fresh tragedy. He felt it then, his deep connection to the space around him alerting him of what had happened here. His parents had fought back, attempting to either save themselves or save him from some sort of trap. Ka'ant had killed them, mercilessly, without so much as a second glance. They lay dead now, dead in the house, their corpses wilting under the heat.
Tears formed at the edges of his eyes, spilling out onto the ground below in quiet, lonesome droplets. His comm chimed, and for a moment he contemplated tossing it into the fire. But he acquiesced, touching two fingers to his ear and choking out an acknowledgement.
"... De'Qora here."
"Hello, old friend." The voice on the other end rasped, and De'Qora's gaze darkened.
"You..."
"I told you to do this alone, did I not? Between the outpost and your parents deciding to get uppity, suffice to say I'm severely disappointed."
"I'll kill you."
"You're welcome to try. But alas, this back-and-forth was not the reason I called. There's someone here that would like to say hello."
On the other end, sounds of a struggle filled his ears. It wasn't until he heard a faint, feminine voice cry out in pain that the true extent of the situation. Ka'ant seemed to sense this, because his hollow, empty laugh was the first thing to follow Karth's stunned silence. "Your sister is quite beautiful, De'Qora."
"I swear on my life, Sh'araz'i; if anything happens to her..."
"Let's skip the tough talk, shall we? The girl will live so long as you co-operate from here on out. I'm sending you my location as we speak. Come alone, and we'll finish this."
And with that, the call was cut off, leaving the Jedi to his thoughts. His lips trembled, his bloodshot eyes soon narrowed and he filled his thoughts with unbridled rage. The Chiss would pay, he would pay dearly, Karth would make damn sure of that. Clenching his fist in the dirt, he rose shakily to his feet and cast a glance at the inferno raging throughout his childhood home, drinking in the sight and letting it temper him.
Never again.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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