Private Old meets new

[Sargon Vynea]

He felt it pulling at him even as he sat slowly sipping his own homemade wine. Something across the galaxy, the same pull he'd felt many, many times before and simply ignored. He had a thousand excuses and even some good reasons, but for decades now he'd simply ignored it. Oh, he still loved to meditate and flow with the force, but his resistance to it's directions had been noted. Now the pulls were not tickles or even slight, but like gnat that wouldn't give.


He was retired, long retired. In fact if he was honest with himself the better part of his life he'd been 'retired'. He'd had no worry for money after his service and shares, so he simply floated. His fortune still sat mostly untouched, collecting a rather nice interest rate he was more then happy to pass onto his daughter. Yet even there he'd honestly cut himself off. Not on purpose, but out of habit. He felt he'd played his part once upon a time and it was over now.


The truth was far uglier of course, he'd played his part in something great it was true. However, when he'd been called to duty again he'd simply not shown. Afterwards he'd gotten plenty righteous staying on Bakura, but really he'd had an opportunity to change the way things were going. Instead when his brother called he simply wasn't there. When the navy had vanished into hyperspace he hadn't been aboard for the new adventure. No he'd simply stayed where he was and shook his head at fate, and even his fist at the stars.


He'd long ago realized the truth, but in that he'd never accepted the step to move onto something else. He'd allowed himself to be convinced by himself that his purpose was done, and the fire inside was dead. Only once or twice when his lieges called upon did he feel that fire again, and then only for the moment and it was gone. Then he'd return to the stars again to float and await truly joining the force. The universe's pain and sorrow had been too much at one point and he had even stopped watching the galaxy through the force. He just floated. He just wasted away.


He was no longer a young man, but even still he was hale. The Force strengthened him, and his daily exercises had never ceased. Still though he knew he didn't have the strength and speed of his youth. As to the wisdom of age, well he'd spent it floating in the stars, and what little he did have he didn't share any longer. It made him sad he'd realized long ago, but what could he do his time was done.


Still the force pulled at him, more so then ever. He'd once promised to listen, and now he sat like a stone simply waiting for time to pass and the end to come. A youthful version of himself would never have imagined he'd end here. In his mind however he wasn't, he was just awaiting the next great adventure, and he had no fear of it.


Oh he'd seen the underworld, but he knew that wasn't where he would be hindered. His spirit would join the Force, and eventually be reborn anew when the time was right. Yet deep inside he was unsatisfied with himself and he knew it. Oh he'd tried his hands at a dozen different things, but none of them seriously in truth. None of them with the dedication and loyalty he knew as a younger man. A part of him yearned to be part of something again, to matter, and once upon a time he truly had mattered.


A part of him knew he feared failure, and feared even to be attached to something great and fail it again. The last part of him that put that failure on others had died long ago. He knew the truth and he'd accepted it. Perhaps he was also punishing himself, and his failures to a people long since forgotten. Well not forgotten, but moved on from. The truth was in the end that he never had, because he had never known where to go from there.


He believed in the living Force, and the light side, and yet he'd lived and worked with Sith. There was a time he even believed he helped them find some peace themselves. No that was another lie. He had helped some wrapped up in the dark side of the Force find some light and peace. It had made him believe that those wrapped in darkness were not only savable, but that the entire way the Jedi Order fought them was wrong. So he wasn't a Jedi, or at least he didn't believe in the way they did things. Of course he found out he also wasn't the only one who believed that. To fight them from the inside though, that would have been a life worthy living. He hadn't done that though, not even an attempt.


His daughter had tried to find a home for him among her temples and students, and yet he had rejected that as well. He wasn't a man of true balance and he knew it. He believed in the light, and he believed the darkness had been polluted by ancient powers within the Nether.


Of course then she had tried another route for him. A group dedicated to helping those in need from war to natural disasters. It was a beautiful dream and something in him loved it, and yet it pulled him from his solitude and his meditations, and his hiding. So he'd stopped. Using the excuse that in his first battle the Lady Ashin had caused him to abandon his position. She hadn't called him, he'd simply gone running like a hound to his master. However, that wasn't her life either anymore.


Rolling a pinch of dirt between two fingers he slowly moved his eyes to the far door. Beyond it lie the cockpit, and an empty pilot's seat. Not that he enjoyed piloting himself, he had a droid for that in the seat next to it. Still that droid hadn't deviated beyond wandering for so long now it was a wonder it had any working circuits left.


He'd had a dream the other day of a tree swaying in the wind. It was a tall tree, thick with age and yet it would not flower. Again and again buds would open but the fruit simply fell to the ground unripe and inedible. He could feel the wind, and yet he would not bend to it, even though the wind would pollinate him and bring life to his fruit and branches once more. Instead he could feel the stress in his limbs and trunk from refusing to bend even the tiniest bit. It had sent a great gust at him which shivered all of his branches and forced him to give way.


Since that dream he'd felt different inside and in the way he felt the Force. He felt agitated and itchy, dissatisfied at the many things he'd done for literal decades with great joy. Not even his garden brought him true peace anymore, for the buzzing never seemed to end.


So be it.


Standing he felt a small pain in his muscles release as an unrealized cramp was released from it's knot. With a deep sigh he took his first steps towards the door hearing the thousand reasons why not to like they were speaking in voices around him. He'd failed before, and not due to anyone else but himself. But, isn't life full of failures? Such was the making of wisdom and experience.


The pain though? The pain of a galaxy in constant strife was overwhelming! But, that pain had created empathy in what had once been a hard man.


He would never shake the galaxy but wouldn't the woman he claimed as his daughter like to see him occasionally? Besides, what of old friends he hadn't talked to since the days of his youthful pride. Sure he looked in on people occasionally through the Force, but that was hardly the same.


He hadn't even fully thought it all through when the first hiss of the door opening made him blink at the brighter white lights outside of his garden. With a sigh he continued on into the cockpit where a red blinking light announced a dozen unanswered messages for him. How old they were there was no telling, but it brought him a bit of shame to realize how far he'd isolated himself.


His droid, well he was pretty sure the droid was simply asleep at the wheel as it didn't even look towards him as he answered. Moving finally to the copilot seat he pulled his robes about his legs before sitting down. He heard the droids head move then, slowly and it felt rather sarcasticly.


"I thought you were dead."


Of course it hadn't, it would have known instantly when that happened, but this is what happened when you decided never to wipe a droids memory.


"Same."


His voice sounded odd in his own ears, and for the first time he realized he hadn't really used it in years. Who would he have talked to? Shaking it off he pointed to a place on the galactic map, another blank space.


"Here there is a world, and apparently I am to go there. I know you've enjoyed all the lazing about, but perhaps we can both do something for once?"


The Iridonanian couldn't help but laugh at the insulted sound that came from his droid at that. "I know, I know. Just be careful there is some kind of danger there. We'll need to exit hyperspace as close to the surface as we can to bypass it, and even then we may need a little luck."


Luck? When was the last time he'd believed in luck?


Didn't matter now he supposed as he watched the thing metal fingers plot out their route and the stars moved to lines. He wasn't sure what was going on, or where he was going. He was however quite sure now that they were moving that he liked it, and for a moment he felt regret bite at him like a great beast. It didn't sit on him for long though. He was older now, but still not dead, and he still had a chance to do something right with the golden years of his life.


Darien Cordel

 

[Darien Cordel]

The Garden of The Grand Ziggurat of Mercuitie
The Meriphoril Desert
Early morning

Darien recalled none of his father's friends. Not in any great detail anyway, he recalled some in grainy terms. A blond-haired lady who was not his mother, a great lady he seemed to think. She had come over one night at bath time but he hadn't seen her much as a child and when he was more grown she was gone. There were others too less grainy faces, even some names but they were dead or vanished. Then there were clear faces and clear names but they had not visited Father after the wheels began to come off the Cordel Gravy train. Sargon was not amongst the faces he really remembered but he did appear in the background of dreams. Amongst a sea of others, the Old Darien had known in the fringe. Darien had no way of knowing who the faces in his dreams were or why he knew them. To him, it was just a quirk of the force. A quirk father had impressed upon him not to meddle in.

Ever the obedient son and heir Darien had not looked beneath the surface. The dreams were to him dreams and nothing more.

The Darien Sargon would find was 27, his memories before age nine a construction forged by his father that called to mind a happy childhood, for the most part, marred only by the death of his mother. His body was 27 too and grown of Cordel DNA. The old Darien had been someone else's but the new Darien had Cordel blood in his veins. He was shier than his father but he liked to think no less sharp and capable and he hoped that was proved by his governance of the region. A region he looked out on now, A city grown from a heap of scrappy tents and ruins, A network grown of a city. Soon he would add a second city to his roster and already his people were uniting the surviving villages of this half of the desert under his banner.

It was early when it happened. Dawn had hardly broken but Darien had felt uneasy all night. Theryn was away from Zaathru. Home and safe on Aruum. Darien was due to join him soon but he had to ensure the grand expansion was going well before he vanished from all sight for a few days. He couldn't make Theryn stay though. The man needed his home. An escape from the fears that still gripped him on Zaathru. In any other city, there would have been few awake to see but Mercuitie did not sleep, its great markets ran without ceasing in a constant cycle of trade.

One moment there had been stillness, the next there had been a great cracking of air and a fog of lifted sand. A tsunami of sand rippled across the desert. The people of the Desert were well used to sandstorms but this would be one of abnormal magnitude. Darien knew the cause, he had watched from his high vantage point as a ship appeared almost upon the surface. It had made the jump at lightspeed and halted just in the realm of safety. Low enough to avoid the moon guns and high enough not to hit the surface and explode but such an abrupt stop created shockwaves and the shockwaves had stirred up the sandstorm. Darien was glad of it, hopefully, it would obscure the ship. He did not need the stress of excusing that to the Natives.

He still felt his heart fall into his stomach though and he gripped the smooth stone of the Ziggurats half wall. Sharp inhale of breath kept him from being sick and by the time his people had arrived he was composed. The tea he was able to resume drinking helped too and he turned calm at the torrent of native tongues asking after his welfare and expressing their shock and fear. He lifted his hands "Calm" he said into their minds and willing it to be so "I will investigate, gather my best men and be ready to venture out into the Desert, Fetch the high priest too, he ought to join us in case this is another of my brother or sister gods and have the council convene to arrange for the damage to be assessed"

There was a scarier possibility too. That this was someone come to do him harm. Had he finally been found? Only a master of the force could have made the jump the ship had without dying. No one could be so lucky surely. Only the force provided a way. A Master of the force was a bad sign for him. Still, he had an army to protect him and a pantheon. The only silver lining was an intact ship meant this visitor might be persuaded to leave.

The Meriphoril Desert
Early morning

The high priest was the only position in Mercuitie which was not duplicated. There was only one and for now, he was a Shaal. The idea was that upon his death the priests would appoint a new high priest who was expected to be Zaathri. The High Priest of Mercurius was not like the other high priests though. He seemed to know that Darien was not the god he claimed to be. He never called Darien Mercurius in private only ever Contra-Usul the title Darien had taken for himself when he formed this hybrid tribe of Shaal and Zaathri.

Yet despite this, the priest still arranged for worship in his name and he had never once sided against Darien. Whenever something Darien did was thought to be strange he always stepped forward with some precedent for such behaviour. He was steadfastly loyal to Darien and committed to maintaining his status as divine. Why shouldn't he do so though He and the entire tribe owed Darien after all. When he found them they were slaves in cramped cages. Now they lived in what might be the most opulent and prosperous city on Zaathru. The high priest once an obscure cleric in chains now dined on finery and dressed in rich clothing in a place of honour. Darien might not be a real god but he was as close as this tribe would ever find and even if the High priest did not believe he understood that much.

As they bounded along through the storm the priest called out over the sandy air "Do you think it another god Contra-Usul?" The words came out in guttural Shaalite but were heard in Darien's mind in the crisp high galactic of his thoughts.

Darien turned grimly "I hope not" he said into the priest's mind They did not need more gods right at that moment.

 

[Sargon Vynea]

He looked over his armor as they neared there destination, and thought to himself he most have done something wrong because it was heavier then it should have been. Then he considered how long it was since he wore this armor and laughed. Ah well, time betrays us all in the end he supposed. He donned an emerald green robe over it before moving over to his weapons. The shield made him almost wish he had one of those droid arms. Once upon a time he could have fought all day with that thing, now he knew an hour would see him panting like a fool. The former sith blade at least still seemed to weigh far less then it should have. Perhaps he'd need to replace the shield soon too with some kind of alchemized metal to take some of the weight off.

Looking in the mirror for a brief moment as he checked himself over he almost looked like his younger self. He was glad he wasn't though, a kind man still, but a young fool none the less. Still at times he had to admit he felt no less the fool even now. Finally as the moment drew nearer he moved into the cockpit.

The pilot swiveled it's head a full one eight to look at his patron, and besides him his now ancient body guard droid. Both had never had their memories wipes, and both were undeniably people. "Well now, it's been a long time since we've gone anywhere, I suppose we should arrive both in style, and live through it."

Placing his hand on the lever that would pull them out of hyperspace to a full stop he glanced at the pair and swore they would be sweating right now if they could. Once upon a time they would have completely trusted him, but he hadn't pulled a stunt like this in quite some time. The Iridonian wasn't worried though, after all the Force would be the one to pull that lever, not him.

Closing his eyes he breathed in slowly and deeply finding peace as he felt his pathway to the moment as clear as day. In his mind he didn't feel like he could have missed it if he tried. Then just as he heard the winds start to sing he pulled it down and the pilot moved for an all start. The entire ship shook like it was breaking up, but Sargon knew otherwise. Whatever the danger was it had past, and whatever he was here for was already coming his way.

"Please take us down."

With a small shudder the ship settled down onto the desert floor as Sargon and his bodyguard moved to exit the ship.

"I'd wait if you don't want a mouthful of sand, but that's just me."

Where had the damned pilot picked up so much sarcasm? Still it had a point as Sargon stifled a laugh and nodded. The droid had a bit of a thing for a clean ship anyway, well at least the parts that weren't an enormous garden.

"Very well, whatever comes already approaches, we have a few minutes. I suppose it would be best anyway to survey the area before I met the locals."

Closing his eyes he open his minds to the winds as he let his mind simply float on it. The first sensation was sudden and powerful. There was something dark on this world, so dark that it could be only one thing. He marked it's location in his head and moved on beyond it blocking it from his mind. A dark side nexus was always dangerous to any sentient, but for users of the Force it could corrupt them deceptively quick. That might not be what he was here for, but it was now a problem on his list. He'd met many Sith he called friends and loved, but a dark side nexus had no good in it, it was the purest form of evil this side of the veil. The other side had far deeper threats though, luckily they were imprisoned where they were for now.

Finally he located a presence he knew, but did not. It was so alike he felt like he was looking at a piece of Lucien his old friend, but it wasn't him, or at least not only him. Still he knew at least now what he was here for. Letting him and what seemed like a small army approach closer he finally pushed a button sending a ramp down to the surface below.

When they approached he awaited them silently at the top of the ramp surveying the thoughts and feelings of the crowd even as his eyes studied who could only be Darien Cordel the son of one of his greatest friends. Yet something was wrong for the man was still young, still felt younger then he should.

"Welcome, Darien, and thank you for your invitation to met you here. I am deeply pleased to see you, and that the living Force has guided me to you. Would you please come in for a cup of wine and conversation? I've a rather special bottle of strawberry wine I have been holding onto for far too long it seems."

He spread his hands open while he talked and echoed them in the minds of those around him as they seemed to almost expect it. They felt odd though, beyond simple respect to nigh on worshipful. Their eyes moved to Darien as though seeking guidance and something about the entire thing struck him as wrong. Still he had no fear of the answers, he was here for a reason after all.

 

[Darien Cordel]

The high priest nodded his head. He was astute enough to see that Relations in The Pantheon were frayed and split. Darien and Theryn seemed to occupy one corner, Forrest and his new lady friend another, Rhiannon making up the third point in the troubling triangle and Arcturus pulled between the three and failing to really please any of them. There was some hope in the rapprochement between Darien and Forrest but it could not be avoided that presently the Pantheon was not a strong and united entity. If the priest were so minded it would be a good time to overthrow these gods and return to the old way but the old way had not served him and he had no desire to see it restored.

Another god would only complicate matters. Only risk all that had been built.

As they continued to journey through the storm Darien did his best to prepare himself for what was to come. Whatever was waiting in that ship it would not ease his burdens. Either the occupant was friendly and a force user leaving Darien to convince them to leave and think up some explanation for the Natives who followed him out to it or saw it from their settlements or they were a hostile entity. Darien would need to kill them then. Darien and his men, in many ways that might be better, provided he survived, If he was attacked he could simply denounce the being as a false god and worry no further. Survival was a big if though. Anyone who could pull off such a landing had to be strong with the force. Stronger than Darien was.

It was an hour of slow progress through the swirling sand, bundled in scarves and coverings which kept off the airborne shards which would otherwise sting and irritate but it was also hot work. The mounts they rode would be out of commission for a week at least. This was not something that could be left. It would not go away simply because he ignored it. Eventually, they were halted before the gleaming hull of Sargon's ship and Darien met it with mixed emotion. Relief and nerves.

The doors opened and he took in a deep breath. steeling himself for what was to come. The hissing of the ramps hydraulics seemed to sound forever and some of his attendants shied back wondering what the shining thing could be and fearing that hiss as the warning of some great beast about to attack. They had seen ships before of course but never intact, The desert was riddled with hulks of fallen scrap but they were nothing like what sat before them. As Darien held through and no attack came they settled still lingering behind them.

As Sargon appeared with his droid guard the crowd regarded him with some apprehension. They did not look upon him long. He was like nothing they had seen. Horned like a Shaal which intrigued that species and cowed their Zaathri companions, old prejudices died hard. Yet he was not a Shaal, there was much about him that appeared like the gods, yet he was not exactly like them either. It made it unclear how they ought to react to him so it quickly became the consensus that it was best for them to simply stay low, but now bowed, and avoid looking at the arrival even as he spoke into their heads. They were chattering though in hushed whispers and whistles. interconnected languages wondering who this being might be. Waiting for some sign. Only the high priest and Darien kept their heads up.

Darien's hand hovered at his weapon as Sargon appeared at the head of the ship's ramp. He had appeared with sword and shield and armour peaked from behind the folds of his robe. Clearly, he had anticipated at the very least the possibility of hostility. Yet he seemed to speak of Darien with familiarity. Was this simply a cold murderer playing nice? The longer Darien looked the more he saw and he identified Sargon as one of the hazy figures from his dreams.

"I didn't invite you ... " he said slowly over the murmuring Natives "I came here to be away from people from the galaxy, the people here know nothing of life beyond and I wish to keep it that way"

His hand moved further from his blade but did not completely drift away as he climbed free from the mount that had carried him through the still swirling sand into the eye of the storm.

"I know your face" he stated in confusion "You know my name but I do not know yours" he looked between the man and the crowd "I shall not go anywhere until you tell me why you are here"

Sargon Vynea