Dominion Cubed | GA Dominion of Janara III

[Cordé Sabo]

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D U L C E T
E M P R E S S T E T A | A T M O S P H E R E
O B J E C T I V E III | G I H E N N O M I I
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Cordé couldn’t blame Sion’s disgust. She’d only got wet up to her knees and elbows, and then whatever that had leaked out and they’d fallen into. At that thought, she clenched together her hands around the hem of her shirt and wrung out a steady stream of brown.

“Gross.”

She pretended to be busy with the straining fabric process to give Sion privacy while he dragged his numb self into the refresher. And she cracked a small smile at the sound of discomfort — not because she was satisfied at his suffering, because bit by bit the humanity she’d believed Jedi not to have, was ekking its way out.

“You okay in there?" She asked over her shoulder. "Still standing?"

His pile of clothes sat stinking under the bench, and she poked at them with her foot. Those would have to go in after him, and dry and..then they’d have to wait, and he was still numb, and the adrenaline that had been coursing through her after the phobic reaction was starting to subside.

Maybe they should use this time to rest, and not keep rushing.

With a huff, she sat down on the bench. Elbows on her thighs and hands falling into the space between her knees. Her shoulders sunk and soon too did her head into her hands. This entire mission felt so out of control that getting back to the original objective felt further away. And now Sion had been stung, and despite her selfish desire to finish this mission, he needed rest. She didn’t even need medical training for that to be obvious.

And he seemed very hung up on the idea of home. He’d mentioned it twice, at least, about that creature that had tried to eat him. It seemed strange that someone like him, a Jedi, was so in tune with the concept of returning someone back to their homestead.

She straightened, stretched, and unzipped her jacket to shake off more of the ickiness that had been following her out of the chute. Where had he said he was from again? The Outer Rim? And..

Wouldn’t you know it, her wandering gaze landed on the hilt he’d left behind on top of the bench, above his rancid pile of clothes.

It felt taboo to stare, but she did.

The sabre, when unlit, looked innocuous enough and consisted primarily of a short, thick handgrip with a couple of small switches set into it. Above the small post was a circular metal disk barely larger in diameter than her spread palm. A number of jewel-like components were built into both the handle and disk, including what looked like the smallest power cell Cordé had ever seen. The reverse side of the disk was polished to a mirror brightness, save for a few minor scratches on the handgrip.

Somehow, its design managed to be simple and complex at the same time. And, according to the power cell, the ratings from it demanded high energy. Kyber, surely. It had to be. It was the only thing that could match the numbers the cell demanded.

She bit her lip, and felt the overwhelming lure of her intrusive thoughts to turn it on! Her thumb ran along its side, over the scratches, the textured grip, and stopped at the rise of what she assumed to be the on switch. She hovered there, less than an inch from temptation. Sion was busy, surely he wouldn’t…

..but she’d been told countless times the Jedi’s weapon was like an extension of themselves. At that memory, her eyes widened, and she hurriedly set the pommel back down where she’d found it.

What did that mean, exactly? An extension of themselves?

Ew, Jedi were so so sos os ososososoo creepy.

Suppressing a shiver, she forced a question out and raised her voice so Sion could hear and, if he hadn’t gone unconscious yet, answer.

“How did you become a Jedi?” It wasn’t what she’d been thinking, but it was what blurted out. It was a pretty obnoxious question to be yelling, so she stood and paced closer to the refresher, leaning against the wall, not 'round the corner, but so her conversation could carry over the running water. “You told me you were a part of some network before The Alliance, but before that?”

Had he been like that worm? Taken without consent?

"Outer Rim, right?"

The water was still running. She crouched to unzip her boots and squelch out of her garbage-drenched socks.

Her mother had told her the Jedi were cradle robbers ——— Cordé might as well find out if that was the case from one who so readily assimilated as..

Master's friend, another Padawan

"I am just a Padawan,

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Sion Lorray | CLOSED
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[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

"Barely." Over his shoulder as he rinced.

Forced himself to.

The cold water was actually helpful. If it had been warm, he'd only drift deeper into the sleep, but the cold? It shook him out of whatever the toxin was trying to get him into. The Force was doing the rest. It would have been far quicker if only he hadn't exhausted himself earlier. Then he'd already be back to smirking and grinning and making jokes.

Wait.

That didn't sound like himself at all. He shook his head and rinced harder. When he was this tired it was more difficult to see himself and see others separate. Even the echoes started to blend into him.

"Hm?" She was asking him something. It took a bit before it processed and then Sion ah'ed. "The Outer Rim, yes. I was introduced to the Order when I was a baby." A shrug that Cordé couldn't see. "I have no idea who I was before then. But I presume somewhere in the Outer Rim. Otherwise I most likely wouldn't have been part of that particular Jedi Enclave."

It stood to reason anyway.

He blasted his face with a bit more freezing water and then turned it off.

Somehow the cold was even worse now. But he managed to yank a towel to himself. It wasn't... the cleanest, but it wasn't filthy in the way the muck water had been earlier.

So now Sion rubbed and dragged. Until his skin felt on fire.

"How about you? What did you do before you were healing up people and shooting down Imperials and Sith?"

 

[Cordé Sabo]

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D U L C E T
E M P R E S S T E T A | A T M O S P H E R E
O B J E C T I V E III | G I H E N N O M I I
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Barely was better than no answer at all.

And then there was only the sound of splashing water streaming out through groaning pipes. After a bit longer, he confirmed her suspicion about being an innocent babe and scooped up into the preying arms of the Jedi overlords. He didn't seem to know why he was a Jedi — or, rather, didn't know how to answer her about it. And! He hadn’t seemed to be bothered by anything to do with his lightsabre, so all around the Jedi theories were gaining more and more clarity.

"Huh. Never been to the Outer Rim." Cordé admitted purposelessly. She couldn't very well ask him what it was like now, could she?

Who do you think you’d be if you weren’t in the Enclave as a baby? Do you ever wonder? The questions looped from one to the other, linking and chaining but stopping at her teeth. They were heavy, though — too heavy for the mind of the tired and overstimulated. Do you like being a Jedi? What do you like about it? Is there anything you’d change? Her fascination, her desire to hear his answers concerned her.

In a moment of lucidity, Cordé physically tensed. She realised her curiosities strayed into the territory of Sion the person, less Sion the jedi. These were truly insubstantial wonderings that would do little to reaffirm the foundation of Force-user hatred she’d been educated with. Instead, they did the opposite. They humanised him. And that humanisation was disquietingly disarming.

Disarming enough that she’d somehow managed to react when he’d been truly threatened — when that worm had pulled him from her sight, she’d been wanting enough to go back into the closing walls that had made her nigh hysterical. It was the opposite of every intention she’d had for as long as she could remember. Any opportunity to quell, or end a Force User, one had to take.

She could have, should have, let the worm do its job. Whether or not her interference mattered in the long run was beside the point. She’d interfered. And that was betrayal enough.

She felt her hate slipping away. She wanted it back.

But it wouldn't come readily, not when he turned the question back at her. At least she still struggled to withhold a cutting comment about being cradle robbed for indoctrination into a zealot cult.

“Nothing exciting,” she replied with an equally invisible shrug. She was still looking out at the room, making sure it was as empty and secure as they were assuming it to be. If they were going to take time to rest here, surprises were extremely unwelcome.

“Born,” sort of “And raised on Humbarine, went to school, got into medicine mostly because my family’s always been interested in the sciences, graduated and didn’t want to spend my time just in a facility where people came to me, already all..” her voice trailed off and she shuddered at the memory. There’d been so many labs and wards full of ill and withering people.

“Well, anyway, out here, it’s more as-it-happens. Definitely more dynamic and interesting,” And less suffocating “Than being surrounded by four walls all day.”

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Sion Lorray | CLOSED
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[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

He managed to scrounge together some new clothes.

A jumpsuit that wasn't half-bad, stuff like that. His tunic was filthy and mucky. They didn't have time for it to clean up and then also become dry enough for him to wear. That much was clear. So Sabo would come face to face with Sion's face. Sion's face in a Maw jumpsuit. "Yes, yes, I know. It's not ideal, but I don't wanna wear... that right now." Pointing towards the pool of clothes.

"Just gonna take my utility belt and that should be fine."

Which is what he did and presumably the lightsaber was among them. Otherwise it would be an awkward conversation. He did seem a bit more... awake now. Lively. Maybe it was the Force connection slowly restoring itself.

Or maybe the freeze cold water shook him out of the funk.

"Humbarine, huh? Those folks are as anti-federalist as can be." Sion didn't know much about them. Besides that it was ruled by a dictator. Which was somewhat... 'hilarious', if you took into account that the Galactic Alliance was supposed to be a coalition of democratic nations. Luckily he didn't have to deal with politics.

Someone else could think about THAT mess.

"Surprising you found yourself with the Alliance then anyway. That must have been an awkward dinner table talk." He lightly elbowed her in a teasing matter as he was fixing his utility belt. Hm. Was that the intensity his saber had been on? Probably. Sion must have been more out of it than he had initially realized.

"Anyway- I think... we need to be smart, not blunt about it. If we can re-route the undead out of the kyber room... we might have an opportunity to neutralize them. I suspect if we do that... maybe the undead will rest again too?"

 

[Cordé Sabo]

“You have no idea.” Cordé murmured tightly, and flinched at his elbow. The table talk conversations, when they happened, had always been somewhat complicated. And covert. But Sion seemed content to simply state that observation and move on.

She did her best to not look suspicious when Sion Lorray seemed to take an extra look at his sabre’s hilt. That nagging notion of that weapon being an extension of its wielder still made her uncomfortable. Imagine if she’d given into those intrusive thoughts and turned it on.

Colour was starting to find its way back to his face, and his voice was becoming clearer and sounded less like he was dragging syllables through the air. Clear and coherent, it sounded like he was starting to put a plan together.

Had he taken a shot of adrenaline when she wasn’t looking?

“Wait, hold on, you almost passed out a few minutes ago — don’t you need some more time to recover? What about that sting on your leg? Is that still bothering you?” He’d concealed it so she couldn’t see beneath that atrocious jumpsuit, harsh, black, and looked like a thick sort of canvas or leathery fabric.

“I mean, don't get me wrong, I’m all for getting up and out of here and finishing this mission as soon as possible but I don’t want you passing out halfway down the hallway or something.”

She made a reach for him, but stopped before even halfway as he had earlier. Before she’d almost passed out from the panic of the compressor.

“Especially if we’re herding a bunch of zombies to a new resting place.”

Instead, she tapped her mouth in thought, trying to imagine the scenario and place it on the map she'd been referencing this whole time.

"We entered that space from above, remember? Through the hatch? And now we're..below?"

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

He was about to walk out the locker rooms when she pointed out the reality of the situation.

Sion frowned and looked himself over.

Felt fine, didn't he? Or was that a second wind? Adrenaline pushing through his veins and causing him back on his legs. "I... well, the leg is still sore..." Sion had to admit there. More than sore. Now that she pointed it out, he could feel it pulsing with every step he took. But how long would it take before Sion would feel better?

In that time the Alliance might pop in and finish the mission for them.

Then Cordé would fail her mission. They couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let that happen.

"Sounds about right, yeah." Her arm reaching out hadn't been missed. He craved the touch. Any touch. For a moment Sion wished his Master, Osarla Ridor , was here. He could always draw so much strength from just a little touch there.

But- Sion had to get used to being alone and only drawing strength from himself.

"Look, let's at least see if we can get that maintenance lift to work? I am not saying I am ready to drop myself head first into the zombie herd... but one thing at a time, yeah?"

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Cordé made a very pointedly knowing sound that charged a hm at Sion Lorray ’s admission to the pain.

Part of her was surprised he was willing, or even able to, brave through it. Sometimes he seemed so soft and sensitive, other times he just seemed to be relentless and persevere through whatever happened. This was hardly the first time she’d found herself foolishly underestimating him because of his composure. Heck, the last time she’d done so he’d pinned her to a wall.

“Okay,” she agreed, and bent to put her squelchy boots back on. “One thing at a time. If you start going numb, tell me.”

It didn’t take long to gather her things up again, and the pair to head to the blinking light Sion had identified earlier. After some feeling around, they realised it was less a matter of getting it to work, and more a matter of tolerating the groanings of the unused shaft.

For most of the ride, Cordé stared at the doors and took deep, low breaths. Being in another small box, inside an even bigger box, was brightening the sparks of her nerves again.

When the lift finally jolted to a stop, and the doors shuddered open, she was the first one out. She feigned it as checking doors and corners, and even gestured the all-clear sign to convince both of them that she was completely in control.

“So drawing a zombie herd,” she started, “Needs some sort of lure.” She shuddered, piecing memories back together. Even though it had been minutes? Maybe an hour ago? It felt like a fever dream.

“Remember those corpses with crystals shoved into their faces? Maybe they’re all drawn to Kyber. It's connected to the Force somehow, isn't it?” she glanced to him and jumped ahead of any of his Jedi nobleness. “You can’t be bait with a bad leg, I could do it, but do you think your sabre’d be attention-drawing enough? Perhaps that's what roused them in the first place.” They had sort of lead with it, cutting through the walls and all...

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

"You know, I'd squeeze your shoulder, if I didn't think you'd break my nose with your elbow."

Sion murmured absently while trying to ignore the anxiety coming off of her in waves. Wave after wave of uncomfortable vibes. In return it was taking a lot of his energy not to get just as uncomfortable and anxiety-ridden. Only pure willpower let him keep a grip... barely. But she had been clear before she didn't appreciate the touchy-feely vibes.

So he resisted the urge.

"Hm, yeah, this isn't some biochemical thing." Otherwise they might have been infected from the get go and turned into moaning corpses like the rest of them. "I feel the darkness coming off of them."

Even from here.

Now that he knew what to look for it was easier to separate them from the general Darkside sensation of the station.

"My... saber?" His hand had automatically moved to cover it out of sight. Phantom limb indeed. Just the idea of using it as a lure made him feel sick. "I... well, maybe... but maybe we can do something else?" Sion grimaced there as he tried to let go of the saber. This was more difficult than expected. He didn't want to part with it.

Not even a moment.

"Maybe a flashbang or something? If you have one on you..."

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Cordé made a face at him with the shoulder and nose comment. Was her discomfort that obviously visible? She thought she'd done a fine job hiding it up until now.

"I'm not going to break your nose." She murmured, and reholstered her blaster. That was the only amount of permission she'd allow. Especially when she was swimming with conflict about how much his well-being was concerning her. And in the heat of the moment, she couldn't discern if it was because he was her partner for this mission or her care went beyond medical assessment. But she's already felt her curiosity slipping outside the scope she'd set for herself.

He seemed deeply uncomfortable with the concept of his sabre, and Cordé watched his micro movements with anticipation.

She shuddered briefly when he mentioned he could feel darkness coming from the corpses. What an awful discomfort.

"I do." She answered simply, and patted a bulged pocket around her thigh. "But it has no connection to The Force. We don't even know if these things can properly see.."

How fortuitous it was that she'd got the opportunity to handle his sabre while he was preoccupied, because he seemed pretty withdrawn and against the option now.

"We know they have some draw to kyber because of where they are, right? And we know they're connected to The Force in some unnatural way, resurrected and you can feel them dark. I'm pretty confident that we'll need to use some sort of Forcey answer to lay them to rest."

To prove she wasn't going to break his nose, she settled her hand on his wrist that clutched his sabre. Because she really needed him to be on her side for this.

"Your sabre would only be to draw them somewhere, but maybe there's something else we can do.

We could also test going in without any lure, see if they react. Again, not you because," she lifted her hand and gestured at his leg first then general physique as if to encompass his hurt leg and the fact he was probably like a beacon in The Force as opposed, presumably, to her.


Sion Lorray

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

He gave her a skeptical look, but then nodded in gratitude.

Didn't touch her anyway however.

There was only so much fortune baiting you ought to do in one day. Thinking back to those zombies Sion believed he'd need all the good fortune he could get soon enough. Her point about the flashbang was fair. It had been a shot in the dark anyway. Just a way to try to think of ANY other option than his lightsaber.

Sion sighed and let go of the sabre.

That was unhealthy, he knew it, and if they got out of this alive it would be necessary to inspect that instinctive reaction.

"You are right. The flashbang might not do anything except put more attention on us..." He grimaced there, but then Cordé pointed out they could try and go in without a lure at all. This sounded like a bad idea. He was about to say this, but then the lady came up with an even worse addition to that plan.

"Absolutely not. You aren't going in there alone. We barely survived with the two of us- you without a saber? You will get swarmed."

Wow, where was this decisiveness when Sion could barely look her in the eye?

He rubbed his brow. "Okay, we will use my saber, it-" And then the Jedi paused and thought about it. It was the Force like Cordé said, wasn't it? That's how Sion could feel them in the first place. What if... hm. Could he use it the same way he had used it with the underwater creature?

Far-fetched, but...

"Maybe... I can reach out to them through the Force. Guide them away from the room? Can you use the vents to get an overview of the kyber room and see if they leave?"

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Sion Lorray might have squeezed her hand, but she felt the warmth in her chest instead. Thankfully, it was less than brief and she found something to be annoyed about again.

"Swarmed? Maybe.” Cordé grumbled her defence for the plan and folded her arms to shrug. “Maybe not.” She wasn’t connected to the Force, for all they knew, Sion and his accessories were the sole problem! The SIA attaché could have pranced in there solo, plucked the crystals and trotted out untouched. But there was an intensity to his refusal that she’d yet to witness, and it made her doubt the recommendation.

While they were plan-making, and negotiating the usefulness of a lightsaber as bait, they’d managed to retrace their steps to the mouth of one of the passageways they’d ignored earlier. They’d taken a left instead, and entered that room with a quick drop into hell.

Guiding the zombies through a connection that was exclusive to The Sith and The Jedi made her uncomfortable. There was a particular eeriness to that mutual tether that could be manipulated on a whim made her skin crawl.

“What do you need to do that?” Cordé heard herself ask, encouraging the notion. “Are you..” earlier he’d said that it was tiring doing too many Force things at once — how did she ask if his tank was full again? Battery at one hundred percent?

“Prepared for how taxing that might be?”

Because if he wasn't, and things went wrong, she'd have to be prepared for how taxing that would be.

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

Sion thought about it.

The last thing they needed was him to lose control right as she was trying to grab the Kyber crystals. He stretched slowly, trying to gauge his fatigue, but he really did feel better? Maybe it was an illusion. Willful illusion at that. But it didn't feel that way. It could be he was drawing from Cordé's resolve in the moment.

After all, she wasn't panicking and hyperventilating about the tight cramped room anymore.

"Could use an energy bar..." Sion muttered and if Cordé didn't have one, he fetched one from his tool belt. In between chomping on the bar, he closed his eyes and gently reached out within the Force.

Just to get an idea of the corridors ahead of them.

"Yeah... I can feel them alright. They are just milling about right now. Hm." Then Sion nodded and reached out, to squeeze her hand. He paused in the middle of that and their eyes met. Only then did he finish the gesture. "Trust me. I got this. We will get this mission done and get you your assignment, I promised."

And Sion would keep his promises to Cordé.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Cordé wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the premise of a promise. The fact still stood that if Sion hadn’t intervened on Empress Teta, it was very likely that she would be dead now. And the idea of owing another mission’s success to Sion, to a Jedi, made her want to be agitated. But with his eyes steady on hers, the upset never bloomed. There was no room to feel disquieted when gratitude was slowly elbowing its way to the fore.

This time, she squeezed Sion Lorray 's hand back and nodded once.

“Okay. Then yes, I can enter through the vents.” If Sion was going to be doing something scary alone, she could do something scary alone. Even though the idea of crawling through a narrow, compressed, shadowy tunnel made her anxious, it was honestly the least she could do.

Belatedly she recognized her hand still in his, and she pulled it back and away to her personal space bubble by tapping her vambrace’s little modular map again.

She wasn’t about to undermine his readiness with concern, but looking at the schematics ended up putting quite a distance between them. Through the little blue projection, she looked across at him as if that would communicate enough how solo they were about to be. Her mind was already running with ways it could all go wrong, and how she could salvage the outcome.

A tiny square was what she pointed to, a space interconnected that they’d managed to miss earlier. Maybe a boiler room or something. Who knew — this was a giant mega deathstar ship station thing. It could have been anything. Sion’d find out soon enough.

“This seems like a good spot for you. Here, give me your comm.” When he acquiesced, she finagled with the settings a bit, doing something to his and seeing it light up on hers and visa versa. Within seconds, she seemed satisfied. Having this meant he was hopefully less likely to be a little voice in her head again. “This should be okay for short-range, but..” she handed it back to him and feigned a crispness to her posture that she didn’t quite feel.

Why did this feel so different from the simulations?

“Please be careful.”

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

She looked at the hologram and then to him.

Yeah.

That was a lot of distance between them. The silent message being relayed was clear. If something happened, there would be no time to get to one another to help. It was risky. But what else was there to do? Sure, they could just sit tight and wait for the Alliance to come to the rescue. Something told him that Cordé wouldn't get her coveted assignment if that happened however.

He'd be fine.

Yeah, Osarla Ridor wouldn't be happy with him. But he was used to disappointing people.

"Mhm, looks okay. Straightforward path for the zeds to follow." If he managed to somehow take control of them. Sion wasn't sure of it, but that was why he didn't tell Cordé to just jump into the kyber room.

"If uh... nothing happens, just comm me and we will try to figure it out from there, okay?"

Sion nodded. "Yeah... you.... too." It would be awkward to grab her hand again. Even though he wanted to. To draw strength and to offer support in return. But this was what Osarla had told him. He had to find strength from within. Not rely so much on those around him. It was difficult, but he could start here.

"May the Force be with you." He drawled softly to her and then closed his eyes.

This time around he really reached out in the Force. Towards that amalgamation of evil semi-sentience waiting in the kyber room.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

How long had it been since they'd split and she'd been moving through the blackness of the vents alone? How long had anxiety been hissing and spinning like a firework in her chest?

She remembered returning Sion’s jedi good luck wishes halfheartedly and then… just shadows and being boxed in. The vents swelled around her like a bruise. Black and hurtful.

Just enough time for the opening they'd made before to glow an eerie rose-gray ahead.

She crawled to the opening and peered through the perimeter. Almost directly beneath her, the reddish crystals thrummed. And.. so did their inadvertent guardians.

<I'm in position.> Cordé whispered across the digital connection, staring down at what she’d expected to be lifeless bodies. Sion had to be able to do this, because if he couldn't, and they looked up and saw her, she wasn't sure what would happen. And didn't really want to find out.

To her joy and surprise, they seemed to be more than milling about.

She didn’t conceal her relief when she whispered affirmation: <Sion, I think you’re doing it. They’re moving.>

Sion Lorray

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

She did not receive a response the first time.

She didn't receive one the second time either.

Yet, Cordé would know the comms were working properly, because she heard him breathing. Heavily. It was taking all his focus to keep the empathy solely directional from one side. Sion suspected that if he allowed a flood of their 'feelings', if you could call them that, inside of him it would be a bad time.

He could practically look through their eyes.

It.

Was disorientating.

Guiding them was difficult. They weren't a solitary mass. No, they were a tide combined of smaller pieces, but every once in a while one of them tried to escape the tide.

It didn't take long before Sion realized why it was so difficult. They. They wanted to come to him. And he was pushing them away from two directions at once. Away from the kybers and away from himself. One of those had to give. Sion knew that instinctively. If he didn't make a choice, he'd lose control and the tide would split apart into two nightmares.

They'd both be doomed.

Sion grimaced and then-

<< Hope to see you on the other side. >> And then with a hard yank he made the roaring crowd pull towards him. He could already hear the stamping of their feet and the cries of triumph.

The Jedi turned around and began to make as much distance between himself and them as he could. All the while drawing them with him... and away from the room with Cordé in it.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

At first, hearing the steady rhythm of his inhale-exhales had been unsettling. But when it was all she had in lieu of anything else, it became less a concern and more a confidence. So long as his breaths remained steady, he was fine.

For the first few breaths, she’d swung herself down from the vent to land in a crouch in the now empty room. As a precaution, she still checked the doors and corners before paying attention to the kyber crystals.

They were of varying sizes, each different opacities of prismatic ruby — no, blood — red. The largest one was the size of her torso, while the smallest was the size of her hand. She started with the handheld ones, careful not to disturb their settings too much because their mission briefing had mentioned at least three times how combustive they could be.

What else had the briefing cautioned?

Now in the privacy of her solitude, she had time to reflect.

Combustible, alive, corrupted — ancient treasures of the Jedi, and connected to all life. As all Jedi-related things seemed to be. She touched the first one, and it shimmered brighter than before. The three surrounding it matched its luminescence, and Cordé had to squint to see the lines that distinguished one from the other through the red, glaring light.

She tried to ignore how eerie it felt to hold them. She’d expected the kyber to feel cold and hard, like any other gemstone, but instead they were warm because of course they were. She couldn't help but roll her eyes while she continued reassembling and securing the cargo in a more transit-ready state.

<I’ve only got a few left.> Cordé gave an update, even though he gave her none. Just more hauntingly intimate breathing noises.

<< Hope to see you on the other side. >>

For the first time in a while, she heard his voice. And worse, his breathing changed. It became faster. And worse still, she swore she could hear indistinguishable and inhumane sounds.

Where was he running to? Did he have the map memorised? And if he did, would it do him any good? So far it’d only been seventy-percent accurate. Not enough to bet a life on. Not enough to outmatch a horde.

She sucked in a breath, and for the first time, the crystals felt cold. Trepidation’s tunnel burrowed into her chest cavity with dissolved, apoplectic speed. Those few words said so much.

Most of the crystals were loaded now. All she had to do was leave with them, board a shuttle, or escape pod — she knew where the main hangar was now — and deliver them to Coruscant. Or have someone collect them and deliver them for her. That was it. That was all she needed to do. They’d started this mission as a SIA attaché to scope-out any dangerous technologies, and a Jedi scout to handle any corrupted Kybers.

Jedi had to handle corrupted kybers, like these, because they were ancient Jedi treasures. She closed her eyes, and tried again to recount the words shared during the briefing. These were beacons of energy and connection, sometimes bordering on sentient. They stored and amplified energy. The ones they would find on this ship would be damaged. Sick. They could be healed but it was a purification process that would take place once they were delivered back to the agency or temple.

Not something a field medic could accomplish.

But amplifying energy..did that relate to the undead? There had been a few with crystals wedged into their faces. Maybe these things were all connected somehow… something natural had turned the opposite, but still held on.

In her ears, Sion’s breaths were fast and short. He was still running. And the sounds in the background didn’t sound any further away.

Their energy was amplified so long as these things were connected to them. It was a hunch but…

What if she could test her theory before…doing it.

They were energy amplifiers, and alive with it. She removed one about the length of her forearm from its settlement within her secured carry-away. She isolated it, a few feet from the others, and while kneeling, braced the top of it and aimed her blaster at its centre. She didn’t look away until after she fired, and bright sparks of crimson erupted from the side of the gem. Lines of vitality skittered outward from it, spider webbing in search of something which it could not find. Its glow emphasised, but darkened around the hole Cordé had made.

<Sion I need a report on the horde. Any down? Just a yes or no.>

A trickle of black dread seeped through her body. This had to work.

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

He tried to tell her to not waste any time or crystals for that matter.

But she was already at it.

The moment Cordé destroyed a kyber crystal? A handful of undead stopped in their tracks and then crumbled to the floor. This momentarily shocked Sion, because part of his mind was still occupied with pulling them along. Suddenly not having that presence? It was a halting vibration. Luckily Sion managed to recover quickly before he'd trip himself up.

And then get eaten.

<< Works. >> He grunted through the comms. It was difficult enough to run, trust on the Force to lead him correctly through the corridors and keep the zombies lashed to him.

Talking? Out of the question.

What Sion didn't realize however was that the destruction of the kybers had another consequence. They were amplifiers, providers of energy, which allowed the reanimation of the undead. But... a score of them had corrupted veins of Kyber running through their very body. And each time Cordé was destroying one?

Those veins glowed brighter and brighter.

He noticed it when a far away explosion caused almost all the regular undead to fall on its tracks.

Sion was about to stop, before the red glow on the walls and the stamping of feet tipped him off. < Oh, kark. >> Practically growled as he added more spring to his step.

<< The infused ones. >> The explanation short and to the point. They didn't need the crystals. In fact, it seemed their destruction caused the energy to be redirected towards their crystals. They were quicker now. More focused. And in their wake? Some of the fallen began to climb back up to their feet once more.

His heart was beating hard in his chest. Practically felt it between his ears too. There wasn't a lot of energy left for him to continue.

If this didn't get resolved... his body would just give out, Sion felt it.

The Force was guiding him however. Right into a room... with no exits besides the one he came from.

The comms between him and Cordé was suddenly severed with a sharp screech.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

As soon as Sion confirmed her prototype had some effect, the effect she was looking for, on the horde, Cordé got to work. All the crystals were heaped together in the most intimate nest. All built around the Flash Bang she’d identified earlier. She’d set the countdown, and scurried away to put space between herself and the concussive blast.

Even with her arm over her eyes, and turned away, it was a brilliant scene.

Bright red luminescent and angry flashed against the darkness of her eyelids. The sheer force of the explosion amplified and even though she’d been crouched, flattened her right out. All that connected energy poured through the room, she felt it wash over her. She was aware of her body, the skin, the sinew, the curl of her gut, the nerves firing in her brain.

Out in the open like this, the kyber’s energetic patterns were countless, complex and varied. The demarcation of one thing and another failed, until slowly, so slowly, the shards became little more than a red mist. The blast temporarily knocked her senses, or consumed them.

The first thing Cordé was aware of was her forehead. It felt cold and wet, the touch of the fingertips still on her skin. Smells began to fill her nostrils next: acrid, smokey, and metallic. Taste came with smell –– the taste of blood on her tongue. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, to localize where the blood was coming from; but she couldn’t. Instead, the attempt only brought recognition of new pains -– in her head, in her neck, and down her back. As if part of her body was on fire, the cells themselves heating and exploding in concert with each movement she tried.

After several moments, Cordé groaned to her knees. Sion was still panting in her ear. Then he swore.

<< The infused ones. >>

And then screeching nothing.

Her courage left her in a rush, a purge of bravery and the deepest, darkest desires she had.

It hadn’t worked. She’d destroyed that which was supposed to be cleansed to save him, but it hadn’t worked. Her tongue withered in her mouth, and helplessly, dumbfoundedly, she wilted and stared at the shards and shards of red that filled the room that had once been aglow with power.

Then she yelled, anguished and angry. The ship absorbed it into its metal walls, and paid no heed. Again, stupid Jedi heroics and their intimately connected world were robbing her blind of any success today. Even with the sacrifice she'd made.

Crystals, like glass, crunched beneath her as she rose to stand, some stuck, happily burrowed into her skin. A trill of pain raced through the motion and she set her jaw to harden herself through it.

No more breathing. No more swearing. Just a vacuum of white nothing.
Impossibility’s horror dawned on her, and she scooped up some of the crystals, closing them in her fist. What could they do? Something? Anything? Nothing? Her commlink was as empty as her attempt to help. As failed as her ingenuity.

Exasperated and furious, she roared again and pushed herself fully up. At first, she limped, then started into a jog, then a run. Cordé found her map to be as useless as it had been earlier with live updates. Sion’s little red dot was nowhere, but, as she moved, she could at least coordinate it to his last known location.

Just a few more feet away…

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

She'd hear it, the closer she got.

The growling, stamping of feet and pounding of fists. It was violent, it was a menace and as Cordé turned the corner? She'd realize it was farther away than expected. Because there he was. Sion. Doubled over and panting heavily, but seemingly okay. In front of him? A heavy bulk-door. That's where the pounding was coming from.

"Wh-" Sion, hearing her approach, looked over.

Momentarily panic before it faded away in relief. "Oh, Cordé. Thank the stars, I was afraid I had missed a few."

He stroked his hair away and sighed.

"I managed to lure them in and lock the door. But one of 'em swiped at me." Pointing towards his left side. The one already ugly and deformed. Now it had another fresh cut. It also explained the comm-link separation.

The attack had damaged the earpiece.

"Should have enough kybers in there to finish your mission, yeah? I didn't want you to lose out on your opportunity." There Sion grinned.

Clearly satisfied with himself.