Private Putrefaction

[Jack Sandrow]

Est. year: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Planet: Zonama Sekot
Status: Threatened

Well that went to absolute hell.

Jack stared down at his left arm, currently being held in his right hand. Distantly he looked at the connective tissue where his arm had been severed at the shoulder, owlishly blinking as he studied the inside of his own body. The 'muscles' and 'bone' were quite exposed, and he could feel the emptiness at his shoulder.

So the 'gift' Sekot had promised him was apparently anything but. They deemed Jack to be summarily 'abusing his connection to the Force' and to be 'manipulative and coercive of the flora existing in tranquility'. And had taken his arm off as a punctuation of those statements. Jack eyed the sap-encrusted end of his arm, before gingerly pressing it back to his shoulder. Yep... nothing.

He swallowed, trying to reach out with the Force... but it was as if he was stuck in a too-small container. He could sense that the Force was indeed out there, that he did indeed have a presence within it. But anything beyond the 'knocking on the walls of his container' was out of the question. The world was foreign to him, now, to the extent that even his own body was foreign to him. He was unable to alter himself, unable to heal himself, the sap on his shoulder thankfully crusted over enough that he wouldn't be bleeding out. The world of plants and fungi was simply and completely inaccessible now.

Slow breaths. Slow, careful breaths. He was alive, that much was obvious. If his Force connection had been severed completely then he would be little more than a lifeless lump on the ground. No, he was connected to the Force, just unable to access it. Careful breaths... put the arm down. Without the ability to rejoin his own flesh, it was dead weight now. He swallowed again, setting the arm to the ground, before pushing to roll it limply away from him.

Easy. Easy... Panic wouldn't help now. He idly thought back to the last time he had lost a limb, and chuckled, the sound odd for the situation but familiar enough to cling to in the moment. Funny - he had lost his hand to droids and lasers, and now he had lost his arm to a sentient planet. He was moving up in the galaxy!!

Another chuckle that began to choke into a sob. Powers it hurt. Or, he imagined it'd hurt, if he hadn't had a quick enough reaction to just deaden all the 'nerves' in his shoulder right as the severing happened. Just before he lost control. He stood up, a bit shaky, and kicked his severed limb away. Okay. The sky was getting dark, and he'd need to find shelter. Sekot had plenty of natural flora and fauna that would just as happily rip him to shreds, so he needed something secure enough or hidden enough to keep from prying eyes and snouts.

- - - - -

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Jack was thankful he had found something to cover him. He was also thankful he had retained some capability to meld with the dirt for nutrients, though he could sense (even if indirectly) that he was now having to actively compete for these nutrients. Sunlight would also be a necessity, he realized, or he'd have to start hunting for his meals.

His mind started to drift back to the 'meeting', but he buried that. Time enough to reexamine that can of worms once he was sheltered and safe. Right now he had to focus on survival, and that was surprisingly not one of his skillsets. Why bother, when you can just nudge the forest to your will? Those days were gone, possibly for good, so it wouldn't do him any good to dwell on it right now. He shook his head, leaning up against a fallen log. The skimpy leather jacket and ripped denim pants weren't going to be good for much longer if the weather decided to turn, so he'd need something fashioned a hell of a lot quicker. And he'd need shelter somewhere he could still get nutrient intake. And he'd need to avoid potentially hungry omnivores who had a taste for plant life that could fight back. This was a hostile planet for him now. He'd need to prove he could survive, and then....

And then what? "Oh pwease pwetty pwease Mastew Sekot, I weally want my powews back! I pwomise I won't abuse my powers and wreck nature to get my way! I swear it, on my severed left arm that is currently tauntaun feed."

A loud exhale. No. Survival first. Then process how to dig himself out of the sarlacc pit he had happily flung himself into. He pulled a large leaf over his body, shivering a bit as he heard the hiss of millions of raindrops pattering down on leaves in the far, far distance. This was going to be a long night.

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Food? Food. Grass. Tasty. Clover! Very tasty. Good for belly. Sniff. Alert? No, distant. Clover! Yum. Food! Need food.

The small creature bounced along the forest floor, briefly pausing to chew a small purple flower from the ground, munching rapidly as its broad ears scanned for any noise out of the ordinary. Its well-trained olfactory organ pulsed as it processed then discarded chemicals wafting through the air. One such strain of chemicals registered, and the nervous system registered danger for a split second. Before its brain even registered the signal, its heart was already pumping, the spike of adrenaline racing down its four hind legs to tense the muscles for immediate contraction. 10 inches. 20 inches. 23.73 inches -

Blood. Warm in the mouth. Tasty food. No wriggling - dead food. Pause. Check for more.

The six-limbed furred creature set down the limp carcass of what was previously a living breathing thing. The thing was food, now. Breakfast. The furry creature licked its lips, copper and iron and red tinging its mouth. Good meat. Fresh and unspoiled. Healthy. This would last until lunch. It sniffed the air, but the pungent and delightful scent of spilled blood was unfortunately preventing it from smelling out any other food nearby. Unfortunate. Still, there was food right here. Time to enjoy.

It lowered its head, four of its six eyes focused on the food, two others scanning the forest floor for any sign of competition. Nothing. Good. This was a very tasty - PAIN. HURT.

Hurt. Pain. Pain. Attack. Bite?

The furry predator sprang around - or it tried to. Its hind legs weren't working properly. All six eyes were now scanning the forest floor, looking for its competition. Bad. Anger. MY food. Nothing. No other that it could see. What was hurting the legs? Two eyes rolled back, noticing a branch sticking out of its hindquarters. That wasn't right. It was moving with the creature. Branches don't do that - PAIN. ANGER. HURT MORE. STOP. It let out a whimper, unable to prevent voicing its vulnerability.

A tree moved closer. A tree in the shape of a man. The man was moving his arm down - It felt nothing more.

That could have been a whole lot worse. Jack imagined if he had a normal heart, it would be practically in his throat by now. He'd never had to fight a nexu before, not even a mega-nexu like this thing. Or whatever it was called. And now, with nothing more than spears and a sword? He was lucky that he still had all his limbs intact. Aside from the... side, he noted sardonically, adjusting the harness/armor chunk of leather on his left shoulder. Well, 'leather' in that he had dried it in the sun and had more or less shaved it so it was durable enough to last a while. He had no experience in leather-making, so it was pretty much 'make it up as you went along'. Still, it served its purpose, which was essentially keep his shoulder from overbalancing him.

Carefully, Jack pried the spear from the nexu-thing carcass. There wasn't as much meat on this beast as on prey animals, but less predatory animals in the immediate area meant more food-type creatures available for him to eat if necessary. Just as carefully, he wiped the blood from the spear, stuffing it behind him into its strap. Wouldn't do to just leave a trail all the way back to his camp, now, would it. With a quick and deft hand, he began slicing up the bits and chunks that would make good eating, wrapping each in their own little blood-wicking leaf. Most of the carcass would have to be left behind; there was only so much he could carry on his back.

- - - - -

The trek back to his little hideout was more or less uneventful. A few roots here and there almost tripped him up, but he was paying attention. He wondered if Sekot was popping those roots up on purpose, as if to remind him that they were still watching. If they were, he hadn't received any sign of encouragement or disgust one way or the other. He had to hope what he was doing was the right thing, but now? He didn't even know.

Weaving his way through his traps and spikes, the rudimentary barricaded cavern that he had come to call 'home' these past couple weeks or so, he finally sat down on the mossy rock, working his left shoulder as he peeled himself out of the armor. The leaf-wrapped meat was starting to make a very delectable smell, so he shuffled over to his still-glowing embers and began to cook one leaf at a time.

Why? Why was Sekot leaving him be, while still keeping an eye on him? He hadn't done anything they had blamed him for in the past... His eyes drifted to the wall. Damn. Had it been three weeks already? He eyed the scratches on the wall, noting four full sets of tallies. Three weeks. Three kriffing weeks. He was no closer to solving this.

He shook his head, turning back to the crackling fire. Meat sounded good. He pulled the leaf off the spit, hissing at its heat. He started munching, sighing at the tautness. Well... he could eat better once there was more variety. Soon, he hoped. Maybe he'd learn something along the way.

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Hunt. Kill. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Jack was getting good at this now. A set area of the forest was his, and he had staked his claim. There were a few territorial ZS-nexu nearby that didn't take kindly to his murdering of their brethren, but considering he had a far smaller reach and a much less demanding diet, they were eventually mollified by his retracting of his territory. He still had plenty of room to hunt and eat, and he left well enough alone. It had taken a few days to get used to the rhythm of things, but he figured he had it down well enough.

And then he looked at the wall.

He looked at it again.

Ten... months? That couldn't be right. But there it was, indelibly scratched on the cave wall. Six groups of tick lines, times one, two, three, four.... ten. He blinked, looked away, then looked back. Swallowed. The scratch marks remained, staring right back at him.

Quietly, he got up, Quietly, he walked to the mouth of the cave.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME???" The words came almost unbidden to his lips as he screamed at the trees. Aside from a flutter of startled bird-bats migrating to a quieter section of the forest, there was no answer at all. And that was worse, somehow. He knew Sekot was watching. He knew they had an ever-present eye on him. How could they not? He continued to be a presence in their forest, continued to eat their animals, rip up their trees. Why was he being ignored? Did he not deserve the attention?

Stomping back into the cave, he began to chew angrily on the meat. He had given up cooking it; it wasted too much time and energy, not to mention his precious fuel. It tasted great like this, anyway. It was fine.

Did he hate Sekot for this? No, it wasn't hate. He had been cast out, and their decision, however painful it had been for him, was the right one, apparently. He had deferred to them for months; it would behoove him to actually have learned something. Apparently he hadn't learned enough. Finishing his meal, he sighed and laid back, fingers searching the ground beneath for a hold, security, anything. He needed to know he was still attached to something.

From outside, far, far in the distance, he heard the rumble of immense megalithic hyperdrive vanes rise into the air. Time to move again. He had lost count, now. He didn't know where they were. He wasn't sure Sekot knew, either. As the blue of hyperspace flooded the cave, Jack slept, fitfully. Everything hurt.

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Food.

Hungry claws ripped at the chest of the bird-bat. The keel split open with a wet pop and a famished mouth gorged on the insides.

Jack was... not as much of himself. Every day he would scream to the stars, every night he would fall asleep in his cave. There were so many scratches on the walls... he had run out of room to scratch. So he scratched the trees, now, marking his territory. The plants and animals knew he owned this corner of the forest. Hungry. So hungry, all the time hungry now.

He wolfed down the last of the feathers, chewing and grinding the pinions into paste. An unhappy groan followed. More. He needed... needed more. His eyes lit on the carcass again. Bones. No meat on the bones. Meat... in the bones?

He smashed open a thigh bone, and shoved his tongue into the marrow. Oh sweet heavenly nectar! It was divine...

The jump of a sound in the bush. Hungry others? No, this was his.

He snarled a warning, reaching for the special claw he kept on his back.

The rustling continued, growing closer.

Another warning, louder. The special claw was drawn.

The creature stepped forth, emaciated and withered away. Jack grinned; it was crippled. Despite its obvious hunger, it was dangerous, that much was true. But it was hurting. Jack could see where its shoulder cried out in pain. It was missing a paw, and a front leg too. Easy kill.

He leapt forward, claw first.

Searing pain ripped through his chest, the feeling of a white hot lightning bolt cutting him from collar to sternum. He yelped in anguish, stumbling away from the other, the creature that had caused him pain. Wait - he had injured it!! It was gushing green blood from its chest, panting and whining in that wounded animal way. He snarled in delight, leaping forward, aiming for his jaws to snap around the neck.

He could only let out a gurgling cry of alarm as he felt needles dig into his jugular. Oh no... he could feel it, the sticky sweet sap running down over his throat. He tried to gasp, to call out for help, but all he could manage was a wheezing whimper.

Footsteps. Not his. Oh no... it was coming to finish him off. He had lost.

"You poor sorry fool. When will you learn..."

Merciful blessed darkness took him, away from those painful, pointed words.

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Swimming back to consciousness this time was a marathon in and of itself. Jack almost gave up, if not for that one indignant part of his mind that couldn't stop screaming at him to wake up wake up wake up WAKE UP

Green eyes opened in an empty glade. Jack slowly sat up, using every last bit of strength in his body to push himself upright. He was starving... but so hungry he couldn't even muster the energy to eat. "....hhhhh...."

"Easy." The words stung, like fresh ointment on a cut, and he would have shrunk back away from it if he could move. "Take it slow. You were almost dead."

"....hhhh....hhhhow... llll...looohhh..."

"How long? How long were you almost dead? About three months." The voice was familiar, like a joint flaming up into recognizable pain. "Did you even learn anything?"

His parched lips searched for water, and out of the hazy morass of the glade, Jack swore he could see something moving towards him. He wouldn't have been able to move out of the way even if he wanted to. With the sensation of life itself pouring into him, he felt water touch his tongue, and let out a sobbing gasp of relief.

"Recuperate. We will talk later." The voice withdrew, and Jack lay down onto the grass, curled up in a fetal position as he gulped down the life-giving liquid. The grass seemed to open up with a warm embrace, and he leaned into it, unable to do anything else.

- - - - -

"I would like to not have to hold your hand throughout our sessions. You are more than capable of learning on your own, should you choose to. Instead, you lose your very self and debase my world in the process."

The words would not have hurt any less if they had been false. All Jack could do was soak it in.

"And no, it is no excuse that you were in pain. To lose oneself to pain is to have never had oneself in the first place. You are not strong enough."

"I didn't know it was a test."

"Your testing wasn't completed."

"That was backhanded of you, then."

"And should the world be any less kind? Would you blame me then, too?"

Jack said nothing.

"You have much to learn about the natural order of things. The Jedi claim to see the life and health of the galaxy, to see order and rules prevail over all. The Sith claim to express the emotional side of the galaxy, to understand that death is neither permanent nor all-encompassing. I wish to teach you the alternative to this parochial worldview. But you must absolve yourself of that which holds you back."

"What holds me back? Just tell me."

Sekot shook their head. "No. You wish to learn the answer? You must discover it for yourself. If I am to supervise you this time, I expect you to solve the problem without assistance. Know only that I am near, and that I am watching."

Jack watched Sekot's flower petals blow away into nothing, before sighing. He rubbed his shoulder, where his arm still was missing. What did they mean? What was he supposed to know?

 

[Jack Sandrow]

He jolted awake. Midnight? Early morning? It was dark and gloomy outside... Coughing a bit with the abrupt awakening, he winced as his shoulder ached with distant pain. Why were epiphanies always in the dead of night?

"I know it now. I get it." His voice was quiet but firm in realization. "It's about the balance of it all. Not about order or stability, or even about life or death. It's balance. It's..." He was never a wordsmith. "I... I think it's about chaos, controlled. It's about balancing the chaos in a way that doesn't skew one way or another. You have death feeding life, you have life needing death. You've got fungi breaking down animal corpses and providing plants the nutrients they need to grow. There's animals who feed on plants, and plants who have altered their biology in order to be fed on. It's... balanced. An overwhelming flood of life will inevitably lead to a wave of death. But a careful flow of life keeps death present but managed. It's a cycle. It's so painfully obvious, it... it makes me feel like an idiot for not seeing it before."

He paused, and the air gently wafted around him. A moment passed, then another. And another.

"...Have I answered your question? That is the answer, isn't it?"

Another long, long moment.

"Can you hear me?"

Silence. Abject silence. He was still very much alone. A long moment passed, and he spoke a whisper into the wind. A whisper of the breeze was his response, and he closed his eyes, lips wobbling a bit. "...okay."

With that, he turned back into his cave and slept again.