Man on a Mission

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan's deep soothing voice filled with hatred and rasp as he poured his anger and malice into the Force seeking to drive the hope and will to fight from the pair, the Sith Lord having been an accomplished mentalist specializing in dominating the minds of lesser beings. While these two were not necessarily lesser, only having two did balance the odds in his favor, at least to his thought process. "Then fall together, little minx." The caprine mystic tried to stun the Sith spirit through the Force, bounding back and out of range, the Force rippling at the spirit's anger.

Draco rose from the ground, mud clinging to him, rain falling, splattering in the mud and puddles, soaking his brow and his clothes, pulling on him with the added weight. He looked at the caprine trying to fight the Sith entity all on her own, and he saw the sword, the blood on its end. His blood on the tip of the blade where it had slashed at the back of his leg. Draco stumbled as he put weight onto the leg, but still he found purchase, rising. His mind swam with the fear and hopelessness of the situation. Briga wasn't a warrior, not really. Draco was wounded and had already expended a deal of Force energy at Vulkan, but was no closer to defeating the entity. From what he could sense, the Sith being's power and might were beyond his own, dark and brutal. With a limp, Draco made it to his feet, gripping his own blade white knuckle tight.

Vulkan roared at the mystic, snarling and holding the sword aloft, between he and her, pulling power from the Force, the trees and foliage around him wilting a bit as the spirit did so, being drained into the Sith entity. A torrent of red lightning leaped from the shadow, drawn from the being's core, arcing through his arms and bursting from his fingertips at the caprine, forking and arcing across a wide area, hungering for her life force, her spirit's vitality, and lusting for her body's stamina.

Draco saw the storm of red lightning draining the life from the grass and trees that it struck in its wide arc and pushed himself through the hopelessness, the worthlessness of his quest, and the futileness of his resistance against the Dark spirit. He couldn't see Briga through the lightning, all he knew was he had to act quickly before the Sith was able to drain her completely if she was in the middle of all that. Draco's legs surged forward, and the Mandalorian dipped his shoulder just before he hit the spirit, driving Vulkan back, the red lightning arcing in all directions through the little clearing as Vulkan's attention was split once again. Draco felt a heavy clubbing blow of significant strength drive into his back, stealing what little breath he had in him, the air driven from his lungs and his vision blurring.

Vulkan twisted as he was driven back, his feet sliding backwards through the mud and water, finally finding purchase. He gripped Draco with his off hand and pulled him across the stance, driving him backwards once the mandalorian's body was between him and a large boulder, smashing the unarmored Mandalorian into the stone, pieces and chips falling around the pair as Vulkan roared with frustration.

[member="Briga Tiin"]

 

[Ax'no]

Briga must have looked like an insignificant lamb, trying to fight a mammoth tiger. But though she was small in comparison, there was an elemental strength in her that could not be denied. She pulled from all of the surrounding elements – air, earth, fire and water to try and do something… anything to stop Darth Vulkan’s onslaught. Rain pounded down like blaster fire, and rivulets of water began to open up around their feet, making the ground slippery on which to walk, much less fight upon.

She could feel the wind from Vulkan’s power ripping trees out of their roots, debris flying past her, her drenched blue hair whipping around her face. Briga’s dress was soaked, ripped and barely clinging to her form, but she could not care less. All of her efforts were spent on attempting to repel Darth Vulkan’s onslaught.

And the red lightning began to pull at her, to systematically extract her life force… she could feel it as though pin pricks, and then a queasy sucking feeling until…

Suddenly the feeling was gone. She glanced over at Draco. The red lightning radiated from him as though he was a human shield. He’d absorbed most of the blow for her.

No more was her mind filled with machinations and snide observations. Both the Priestess and the Warrior were in a battle for their lives. Vulkan smashed Draco into a rock formation. One of the only other spells Briga knew well was Odojinya. She chanted in Ancient Sith quickly and feverishly, her voice hoarse from shouting and screaming. Dark filaments shot out of her hands, her entire body, even her mouth as she sang away the last few words. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and a giant web of darkside energy flew at Vulkan to trap him where he stood about to give the Mandalorian another spine-breaking blow.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Rbzld7NUaI​

Vulkan gripped Draco by the neck, the coal black eyes, pits of darkness that stared at the Mandalorian from the shadow shining with a hint of glee and excitement as the shadow prepared to rend Draco apart, ending their battle once and for all. Draco could sense the end. He could tell it was coming. He could see it, feel it, and his heart new it, deep down. It was of some comfort to know that it would be Vulkan who killed him. Vulkan had always been stronger, feeding of the hate and pain that Draco had suffered across a life time. A life time of suffering condensed into one being that lacked any symbolence of compassion or peace. He could take comfort that that being managed to finish him off.

The wind howled and rain pelted down on the trio, though the black smoke didn't seem to mind the rain or hail. Draco watched as the very physically strong entity seemed hardly effected by the hail and rain. Just as Draco waited for the spirit to impale him with the sword, a burst of Dark Side energy erupted from Briga, and a lattice of energy fell over the Sith shadow, trapping the being. Vulkan writhed and roared in pain, his considerable power waning slightly as the web of energy pulled at him, forcing the Sith to release Draco.

For a moment, Draco looked, just breathing in deeply, refilling his lungs, feeling the sharp pain each time he inhaled, the dull pain as he exhaled. His lung was likely punctured, and the short respite was needed. Briga was still alive, that much was good. He was still operational, even if only barely. Draco pulled on his reserves and extended his own hand to the Sith standing over him, unleashing his own bolt of red lightning, replenishing his waning power, assisting in dulling the pain from his injuries. Draco didn't manage to hold it for long, nor was it anything like the storm that Vulkan had managed, but it was enough to get him moving, and the pain it caused Vulkan didn't hurt.

Vulkan roared and writhed in pain, the web of dark side energy sapping his strength as the mystic held it against him. Draco struck the Sith, hard in the stomach, as much Force power as he could manage behind the blow, forcing the Sith to stumble. And a second blow to the shadow's ribs. Draco wished he could have heard ribs crack with as much power as he had put behind the strike, but he barely felt the soft flesh of the shadow's body. Nonetheless, the being stumbled again, the web still pressing down against Vulkan, pulling his power away from him into the lattice of energy.

All they had to do was keep it up, and victory would be theirs. "Good job Briga, keep it up as best as you can." Draco smiled, a little bit of blood coloring his teeth as he turned his toothy grin to Vulkan. Draco gathered his strength preparing to send it to Briga, to reinforce her power and assist her in maintaining the very powerful Sith Magic. Odojinya was never easy, but she was doing quite well with it. "ITS OVER!" Vulkan roared, the shadow's expression changing from one of agony and suffering to one of psychotic glee, and the sword severed the lattice, rising up from the Sith's side, driving the blade into Draco's chest, lifting the Mandalorian off the ground and spearing him against the boulder behind him.

Vulkan roared triumphantly tearing from the web of energy the sword had severed, slashing the bond between Draco and Briga. The shadow released the hilt of the sword, letting it hold Draco's body against the boulder, driven to the hilt into Draco's body just below the ribcage.

Draco's vision began clouding, the edges falling away to darkness and blackness, swirling around him as his toes barely touched the ground. He let out a low gurgling as he gasped for air, holding the sword with his armored hands, his head dipping low, and then his body going limp.

And then there were two.

[member="Briga Tiin"]

 

[Ax'no]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uABaTw73PFU​

*warning explicit content*​

As Vulkan strained against the dark tentacles which kept him bound, Briga increased her effort to keep the beast restrained. It was an almost painful effort at this point, but she funneled all of her Force powers into just maintaining the silken chains which held the behemoth Sith Lord. Later she could be proud, but right now any extra room in her brain was being diverted to holding the power as steady as she could.

But abruptly, she saw Vulkan break free and give Draco what appeared to be a fatal blow.

NO!!!! This wasn’t the vision! This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Even more distressingly in Briga’s vision prior to them landing on the Force Planet, she’d seen both of them dying at Vulkan’s hand, but not in this way and under these circumstances.

This was not the vision.

Hope filled the Caprine that the divination had been wrong.

Briga began to make her way over to Draco slowly. She kept slipping in the slick mud, and at one point fell flat on her face – comedic relief at any other time, but now a much better fate than being sizzled like a piece of Bantha steak by Vulkan’s red lighting. The weary mystic on her hands and knees vaguely resembled a farm animal with her horns, her face obscured in mud, and her dress in absolute tatters. She felt immense fear for if she approached Vulkan, according to her prophecy, she would die. But she hadn’t forseen either of their deaths in this way. Confused and alone now as Draco was nearly unconscious, Briga had to do what she’d been born and raised to do.

She stood now and chanted in Caprinean: “As the air I breathe is purified, I surround myself with an orb of protection. This golden haze comes from Ax’no and is purified and separated from any negativity. May my space be protected.” And with those words, Briga covered her body in a Force Protection Orb with a golden hue.

“You don’t kark with a Goddess, Vulkan!” she growled from the back of her throat, her words taking on a sinister edge.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan smiled at the caprine, a row of pointed fangs flashing through the darkness that rose from the beings form. The clawed hand of the shadow left the sword pinning Draco to the boulder, watching the life fade from the man, feeling the Force abandon him. It was over, time to deal with the gnats pestering at the spirit's skin.

The Shadow growled, turning its attention back on to Briga, eyes like voids glaring at her through the pelting rain, the hail falling from the sky, wind howling, whipping through the clearing as the storm raged around the dark tree. There was no calm, and the storm brewed, stronger, like an angry beast, realizing the end was near.

"No, not a goddess." The raspy bellow cut through the wind as Vulkan took his first steps towards the Caprine, watching her protect herself with the golden orb, the protection bubble. Vulkan knew the power well. It was strong, able to withstand great punishment for a short time. But, it trapped its user. Like a little goat trapped in the maw of the predator.

Coal black eyes looked her over as Vulkan approached her, building his presence around her preparing for his strike. "You could have been. But that future is lost to you now." The being's voice was calm, straightforward. Speaking as though it had seen all things to come. Behind him, Draco's body fell to the ground like a limp sack of potatoes, falling on his side, the sword still protruding from his chest and sticking through his back.

"You could have been, but you chose defeat over ascension today. You can reunite with your goddess in Chaos." Vulkan's mood was somber, calm, speaking matter of factly. The Force closed in around Briga beneath Vulkan's will, and the Sith put pressure on her presence, sealing it in behind the barrier of his will and squeezing against her own rigid determination, seeking to severely limit her ability to use the Force, possibly blocking her ability to affect it outside of her body. The feeling of being wrapped in frigid arctic cold, wet down to their core, and held as though in a straight jacket surrounded her, pressed in against her as Vulkan approached her, close enough to touch her protections.

[member="Briga Tiin"]

 

[Ax'no]

All Briga could do was laugh now. Her stamina was nearly gone, so she found the situation quite humorous actually. If she was going to die, she would do so in laughter and mirth like the Caprine she was.

The Priestess was so terrified by the spirit of Vulkan that she was nearly dead inside, having gone through all of her emotions now. She was at the point of no return. If he wanted to kill her, he would.

But she would go out swinging with everything she had.

Her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of Draco slumping. She felt so small and insignificant, alone with Vulkan.

And as though on cue, her body began to freeze up, her veins filled with an ice-like sensation. So Briga did what Ax'no would do.

She heated up. Not sure if it would do anything she focused the Force on her body temperature to raise it, elevate it… dangerously close to boiling her organs in her own viscous fluid.
Anything to release herself from the frozen grip of Vulkan.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan's toothy grin curled further, the pointed fangs that filled the shadows mouth dark and venomous, the black eyes burning with anticipation. The shadow stepped closer and closer to the Caprine, his will, what remnants there were of his reserves of Force energy focused on cutting the Caprine off from the Force. It would be over soon, and then Vulkan would leave this place.

Draco blinked his eyes. He could see Faith, with their children. She looked somber, and from the looks of the area, she was alone. He didn't come back. He had packed his bags, told her he was going on a journey with a mystic that was untrustworthy and attractive, and never returned. He couldn't do that to her. He at least needed to say goodbye, let her know that he didn't abandon her. With a slight groan, inaudible over the torrent of rain splattering his face as he lay in the mud, he pulled the sword from his chest and lay in the pool of water, letting his blood mix with the water and dirt, gasping as his lungs slowly filled with fluids.

Vulkan darted forward, grabbing for Briga's throat with his clawed hands of shadow, teeming with an unnatural strength. "Laugh if it helps you." His voice raspy and dark, the embers in his throat visible as he spoke, the light of the fires rising in his chest. The torrent of water still cascading down on the trio didn't seem to bother the Sith spirit's manifestation.

Far behind, Draco stirred, looking up at the duo. It didn't look good. It was looking like he wouldn't get back to Faith, to tell her how much he loved her, and spend his years raising their twins.

[member="Briga Tiin"]

 

[Ax'no]

By heating up her body temperature with the Force, Briga did nothing useful except give herself a fever. She had no edge on Darth Vulkan now as he stalked closer and closer, finally grasping her with his unnaturally long fingers, squeezing firmly until she felt her oxygen restricted. “I can’t… breathe, nyanandini bantha!” she cursed half in Basic and half in Caprinese.

The mystic gasped and frantically scratched at him, her long claws digging into him where she could find flesh. But like an apparition, her marks seemed to dissolve as soon as she’d made them. Briga’s hearing was not her strong point, so between the roaring thunder around them, Vulkan’s raspy breath in her ear and the sound of her own choking, she did not notice Draco was slowly pulling himself back up. She began to summon the Force, but it was difficult as she was close to losing consciousness. Like Draco, Briga began to run through all of her memories, good and bad, wondering if she’d see her beloved Iktotch, her handmaidens, and Caprine ruins again. Her eye lids fluttered, and using the Force she began to slow her heartbeat, putting herself in a state of Force Stasis, if only to extend her precious and dwindling supply of oxygen.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xaU0xQWvHrw​

​

Draco lay in the mud, gasping and blood leaking into his mouth from his lungs. A burning in his stomach filled his senses. Of course it would be his luck to die slowly and painfully. From the ground he could see Briga being strangled by the shadowy spirit, rain spattering the side of his face. He felt a twinge of guilt for having brought her here to die. He hadn't expected this fight, and had he known this would be what it was, he wouldn't have come with just her. He would have brought Ember, or someone else of significant power and experience.

His thoughts turned back to Faith, to the future of his children. They would be fatherless, and that hurt him deeper, made him feel a great guilt like he had never felt before. He felt a fire in his chest, burning, raging in his belly like nothing he had done before. The Sith spirit was in the process of murdering his ally, and his life, the future of his children hung in the balance. Most importantly, the memory he swore to return to Faith flashed through his mind.

The Mandalorian struggled to his hands and knees, his eyes seeing the blade in the mud beside him, its unearthly power dulled, and he couldn't feel it. Draco pulled on the Force, but his senses couldn't feel the intricate web. His blood covered his chest and he stomach's contents leaked from the wound. Shakily, the Mandalorian rose to his feet, stumbling at first, dragging the sword's blade through the mud.

Every muscle ached, sharp pain surged through his back and spine, fire burned in his stomach and chest as he walked forward, tears mixing with rain that fell on his face in the torrent of rain and lightning. Thunder rolled through the sky with the dark clouds.

The Sith spirit smiled, exposing his fangs to the Caprine. Draco stepped forward, his presence was broken and hidden as his bonds to the Force were severed. With the last of his strength Draco plunged the sword into the being's back, impaling the creature, burying the blade to the hilt in the shadow's back, the weapon protruding from its ribcage. With a jerk, he hauled the weapon upward, through the beings chest and into its throat, cutting the creature from the Force, carving its essence out. <You were born of my fear and suffering. You are nothing without me, mine to control. Mine to destroy.>

With a final howl the shadow collapsed in on itself, and dissipated, disappearing into a speck of energy, and then gone, its essence cut from the very thing that had brought it into existence. Without the Force, Vulkan could not exist, not here, not in the afterlife.

Without the Sith's body to hold him up, Draco fell forward, all of his weight cast forward from the blow.

[member="Briga Tiin"]

 

[Ax'no]

Vulkan began to grin, his impossibly long smile cutting into his sharp cheekbones. He displayed a row of fangs where normal human teeth should be. Instinctively Briga leaned back, trying to pull away, but she was caught in his firm grip and nearly unconscious by this point.

Suddenly her body jolted with the force of the blow from behind. Under heavy-lidded eyes, she saw the tip of the sword come through the Sith Spirit’s chest, approaching dangerously close to her own body. And quite abruptly she could breathe again as Draco lifted Vulkan off of the ground, holding his skewered torso aloft.

Now on the ground in a semi-fetal position, the Caprine mystic held her ears as the unearthly howl from the vanquished spirit rang out through the cavernous, underground dreamworld. She blinked once and then twice, astonished to see the Force cut off from a being – even one as spectral and wraith-like as Vulkan. It made her feel almost sick to her stomach to consider losing her powers… her goddess-like ability to change her future, to transform particles, to kill swiftly and without mercy… to not have that was unfathomable.

But no pity was afforded to Vulkan by the Priestess. She crawled over to Draco now, both of them covered in mud. Briga was no expert in Darkside healing, and though she’d witnessed it by then hands of her Master once, she’d no more stamina to perform any miracles. “Wake up,” she said softly. "I think it's over."

The air around them was still and quiet. Hopefully not the calm before another storm, the Priestess thought. If he opened his eyes now he’d see Briga's tired but curious, yellow irises looking down at him, a thick, reddish-purple bruise across her throat where Vulkan had choked her.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Draco lay in the mud, the rain stopping around the pair following Vulkan's death and his form's dissipation. Draco searched his mind and he found no traces of Vulkan, no gaps in his memory, no tears or rips in his mind. It seemed like every trace was gone and destroyed, not even the remnants of Vulkan's presence hung in the air following the being's death. It was odd for Draco, the feeling of control. He had never truly felt in control of anything about his situation before, and even this was only barely.

The warrior's eyes opened, and instead of the amber gold eyes, dark hair, and tanned skin of Faith, it was the equine features of Briga. It wasn't what he wanted to open his eyes to, but, better than the black eyes of Vulkan. His hands moved to clutch his stomach, still bleeding, sepsis was probably going to set in if he didn't get help soon, and then it would be a long, painful trip in a bacta tank on their ship. "I'm pretty sure its over, Briga," his voice was grating and wet, blood being coughed up from his lungs.

His hands moved to his small pack, pulling the medical supplies out of it with shaky hands. "I'm not gonna make it far without some help. Can you heal? Like, at all?" Draco hoped she could, otherwise this trip would likely be for not. The Mandalorian was tough, but he wasn't that tough. He knew his limits, and as far as he could tell, he had been pushed just past them and was in the process of dying on the Force Planet.

Bacta salve, bacta patches, stitches, even a staple gun was in the medical pouch, but, as he wasn't much of a doctor, there wasn't much he could do for internal injuries beyond put bacta on the wound. Once wrapped with gauze and bandaged up a little bit he took a painkiller. It was a pretty powerful narcotic, but would help once it kicked in. Now all they needed to do was leave the planet and make it back to someone that could help him heal his injuries.

[member="Briga Tiin"]

 

[Ax'no]

Briga also felt no more trace of Vulkan, only the weakest Force signature from Draco. But isn’t that what the celestial beings had required of them? To uncover the Mandalorian’s strength?

And Draco had said: “My strength is my drive to protect others, and my stubborn unwillingness to die quietly.” And here he was on the ground, limp and wheezing, but with a vigor inside him that assured Briga he would survive. Even if he thought he wouldn’t.

“I will try for you,” she said. While her own quest would go unsolved – the mystery of the Force Planet and its connection to the goddess Ax’no – Draco saved her life. She owed him a good try at dark healing, even if it would hurt her. Crucitorn wasn’t even an option to make her feel less pain. Briga needed all of her concentration to summon the ancient Sith energy spell. She rose up on her knees, placing her hands on his chest as though she were about to give him CPR. Closing her amber eyes, she summoned the Force and began to funnel it into his body, slowly knitting flesh, replicating blood cells so he wouldn’t require a transfusion and cleansing the wounds of bacteria. And all the while she did this, an intense pain seeped into her body as though her organs were being ripped apart. Her face was a mask of agony, but she didn’t stop until finally, the Caprine was pushed to her limit with pain, and gasping, she stopped before he was fully healed, slumping over on him.

Breathing heavily, Briga said, “I think that will help enough to get you back on your feet.” She grasped onto the medpack with feeble, aching hands and began to unravel a thick roll of bandage. Tearing open the bacta patch with her teeth, she placed the patch onto his gravest wound and then began to carefully wrap the bandage around him. Inside her body, a steady pain throbbed, remnants of the darkside healing which robbed from its practitioner to save its intended target.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Draco winced as the Caprine put her hands on his chest, searing pain jolting through his body as her hands became covered in his blood and stomach fluids. Draco was a realist. He had survived bad injuries before, like having his spine broken by Vrag, Hand of the Dark Lord. Or having his arm shattered by Death's Hand. Those things he had been able to overcome. Through determination, through the Force, through sheer toughness. But this was different. This injury was why he feared that blade, and rightfully so. Not only was he injured, but his connection to the Force was lost, his bonds broken and severed.

He watched as Briga transferred her own vitality into him, prolonging his life, perhaps saving it. He couldn't be certain right now. He could be certain of nothing right now. So long he had used the Force, and now it was gone from him. Draco had been raised without using the Force or having any knowledge of his sensitivity to it, but four years focusing on training and mastering the power had left him more dependent on it that he realized. Every time he entered a room his first instinct was to scan the minds and establish connection with their thoughts, to expand his zone of influence to fill the room, and those adjacent to it.

Draco couldn't do much beyond lay there and hope she helped him, rather than kill him. Granted, if she did, she might have trouble getting off the planet. Its possible she could pilot the ship out, but the droids wouldn't be helping her. He smirked, reflecting on his position. Draco had arrived on this planet with someone he wouldn't have minded killing when this was over, someone he would have happily kicked out of an air lock two days ago. Now, he was looking up at her as she funneled her life force, causing herself great pain, after having put herself at great risk, to help him. And he had seen to her safety as well during their battle with Vulkan's spirit.

As the caprine collapsed on top of him, Draco instinctively pushed her back off of him. He was protective of Faith's territory, but he did realize she was simply exhausted, working to help him bandage up so that perhaps he could survive the trip back to the tunnel they could escape from. And then the walk back to the ship. He groaned, gasping in pain as he stood up, helping his companion to her feet. "Here," Draco whispered, his voice still wet and raspy, as he handed her a packet. "Its a pain killer, take it, for your throat."

The man began limping, holding his stomach, trying his best to keep his intestines inside his body and hoping that the worse effects of sepsis wouldn't show up until he got to a Bacta tank inside the ship. The first leg of the trip was all underground, hoping from one plateau to the next, something he would have to rely on his grav-boots to do.

The jumping and landing was hard on him, each landing he felt a sharp, jolting pain run up through his spine. Perhaps the blade nicked his spine when he was pinned to the rock. Draco looked at the blade, on his side, covered in his own blood, no trace of another on it. Vulkan had been his fear.

You aren't brave. Men are brave.​

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

Briga gratefully accepted the painkiller, swallowing it down without water. She knew that she needed to get Draco back out where his ship was so he could get sterile and more clinical medical attention, but the Priestess was still wistful that she never uncovered the secrets she came to extract.

Pulling out a small vial that miraculously survived the brutality of Vulkan, and her dress in tatters from the wind and rain, the Caprine mystic dug her hands into the soil and deposited a sample, scraping it from underneath her claw.

“I want to study this later to see if I can extract some of the Living Force essence,” she said. But then realizing Draco had lifted himself up and was struggling to walk, she eased a shoulder under him. "Steady... let me help you." The Caprine was not tall, but she was fairly sturdy with bovidae genetics giving her muscles a stamina boost. She thought of the Mandalorian's companion at home and how worried she would be when she found out the truth of what happened.

“If it hurts too much, have a rest. But we can’t wait too long. We have to get you back to the ship and quite soon.”

While malevolent thoughts took up a lot of mental space in the horned seer’s mind, but right now, she was placid and focused on getting them both off of the Force Planet. Then in the calm and quiet of her temple she could meditate further with the soil, seeking more answers in the safe environs of Iktotch.

[member="Draco Vereen"]