Velok the Younger
When I Was A Young Warthog
RAVE MERRILL'S HOME
VARUNDA IX
UNKNOWN REGIONS
Not for the first time, Rave thought about anger. About the grip it held on her, and how hard it was to set up barriers between thought and action. Ideas led to dwelling on an issue, which led to speech, which led to letting anger get a grip on her Force connection. Which led to action of a most inappropriate kind. Best to head that onrushing chain of causality at the pass, as early as possible. That meant not thinking about the fact that Spencer Jacobs, a woman she'd known fairly well in her youth -- much longer ago for Rave than for Jacobs -- had been Vongformed. Subjected to the same tortures and experiments that had once been Rave's stock in trade.
A ship touched down in the nearby forest clearing. Jungle stretched out for miles in most directions, though they weren't too far from a major city. Within walking distance of a Marrow and Illskins, if she ended up needing to get word to @Dissero. An errand for Varanin, maybe, if she proved a distraction; Varanin and Dissero had a connection.
Rave eyed her cybernetic hand, plated with terentatek ivory. A quarter century back, she'd had a shaper hand there. It would have been of more use; shaper hands contained tools to which Yuuzhan Vong biots responded. She had dead tools, many of them nameless, designed to do similar things, but those could only go so far. Frustration was a path to anger. She refused to dwell on it. She would have to either fix Spencer Jacobs or hope that Varanin was still capable of transferring someone else's soul to a new body. Because that was emphatically not a skill that Rave intended to unlock in herself. It had defined her life, ruined it in some ways, though she'd never personally switched bodies -- a long and ugly story. Fear, too, was a path to anger.
As the ship settled, Rave walked out of her simple, cluttered home and leaned against the nearest Tree of Ankarres. The tree's contact calmed her as she watched the hatch opening, and Ashin Varanin pulling out her wife on a medical gurney. Varanin still wore phrik armor and a death's-head helmet, black with Yuuzhan Vong blood from head to toe. A cold, implacable, almost unhinged fury rolled off Varanin; Rave winced at the sensation. Yes, sending her to Dissero would be the best move. The Dark Side clouded everything, and Rave couldn't afford that at this stage.
She'd been a healer once, as a Darksider. She'd known every spell and trick of it. Not a skill she'd learned yet, now that she'd changed.
Suppose that's what you'd call ironic.
[member="Spencer Jacobs"]
VARUNDA IX
UNKNOWN REGIONS
Not for the first time, Rave thought about anger. About the grip it held on her, and how hard it was to set up barriers between thought and action. Ideas led to dwelling on an issue, which led to speech, which led to letting anger get a grip on her Force connection. Which led to action of a most inappropriate kind. Best to head that onrushing chain of causality at the pass, as early as possible. That meant not thinking about the fact that Spencer Jacobs, a woman she'd known fairly well in her youth -- much longer ago for Rave than for Jacobs -- had been Vongformed. Subjected to the same tortures and experiments that had once been Rave's stock in trade.
A ship touched down in the nearby forest clearing. Jungle stretched out for miles in most directions, though they weren't too far from a major city. Within walking distance of a Marrow and Illskins, if she ended up needing to get word to @Dissero. An errand for Varanin, maybe, if she proved a distraction; Varanin and Dissero had a connection.
Rave eyed her cybernetic hand, plated with terentatek ivory. A quarter century back, she'd had a shaper hand there. It would have been of more use; shaper hands contained tools to which Yuuzhan Vong biots responded. She had dead tools, many of them nameless, designed to do similar things, but those could only go so far. Frustration was a path to anger. She refused to dwell on it. She would have to either fix Spencer Jacobs or hope that Varanin was still capable of transferring someone else's soul to a new body. Because that was emphatically not a skill that Rave intended to unlock in herself. It had defined her life, ruined it in some ways, though she'd never personally switched bodies -- a long and ugly story. Fear, too, was a path to anger.
As the ship settled, Rave walked out of her simple, cluttered home and leaned against the nearest Tree of Ankarres. The tree's contact calmed her as she watched the hatch opening, and Ashin Varanin pulling out her wife on a medical gurney. Varanin still wore phrik armor and a death's-head helmet, black with Yuuzhan Vong blood from head to toe. A cold, implacable, almost unhinged fury rolled off Varanin; Rave winced at the sensation. Yes, sending her to Dissero would be the best move. The Dark Side clouded everything, and Rave couldn't afford that at this stage.
She'd been a healer once, as a Darksider. She'd known every spell and trick of it. Not a skill she'd learned yet, now that she'd changed.
Suppose that's what you'd call ironic.
[member="Spencer Jacobs"]