Private Run (away) Through the Jungle

[Cale Gunderson]

It’d hardly been a surprise when it happened, but it’d left him angry and fuming when it did. Over Felucia of all places, Cale’s ship had to make an emergency exit from hyperspace. Whatever damage the TIE had gotten onto them before his shields had come online over Cadomai Prime had done a number on her. He and Tup Tup had tried to mend the wound in transit, even roped in the mercenary to help, but it’d been to no avail. The StarThrust Fast Courier had come tumbling out of hyperspace and hurtling towards the jungle planet, smoke trailing from her.

Cale had cursed wildly about a number of things, like what deity they’d have pissed off in order dropped out of hyperspace practically inside a planet’s atmosphere, and questioning why if some god wanted him dead it hadn’t just done it already. There was a bit somewhere for it to ‘stop teasing him, and pull the trigger’. It was quite the show he was sure.

He hoped they’d gotten their laughs in before the nameless vessel promptly plowed through nearly half a kilometer of flora and potentially fauna during its troubled descent. It was nothing short of a miracle that the ship held together, suffering no damage greater than a snapped landing strut and a few gouges into her plating, but when it finally came to a halt, nose in the mud, Cale finally let his hand go free from the stick, knuckles white as a ghost.

They needed to get out of this place. Cadomai had technically been a free planet, Felucia was anything but. Even without its occupation by the Sith, the planet was death. It’s climate was hot, and insufferably humid, its wildlife population consisting of the likes of Acklay, Rancors, and Sarlacc aplenty. There was a city, somewhere in the opposite hemisphere, but as fast Cale knew that was the only hub of civilization beyond farms and potentially military outposts on world.

They’d crashed far from any of those civilized places, and squarely in the midst of the territory of the ferocious jungle monsters. Cale had, after ensuring no one had died, called the whole of the ships ‘crew’ to the cargo hold to dole out responsibilities. If they didn’t want to help, then they could stay behind when the rest of them left, and he made that clear from the outset.

“In case any of you missed it, we’re in something of a situation. You’ll all be pitching in, not because I pay you, besides Tup Tup, but because if you don’t then I will pick up your slack and then leave you here when the rest of us take off.” He began, blunt as ever.

“Tup, take the boys, stabilize the drive, and see if you can’t get that nose up. They’re oh so eager to use the force, and you’ve got the mass. Shouldn’t be too much trouble for the group of you.” Cale regarded Tup Tup with a nod, and the pair of Aleksandr and Hector with a simple glance. The less he said to them the better he’d decided.

Strange how they’d become ‘the boys’ now, he wasn’t sure when that had happened. Somewhere between Aleksandr’s baseless declarations and his ship nearly coming apart.

“Ronan, get yourself a hardwire to the ship’s motion sensors and head up top, if something starts coming towards us from land or air, I wanna know about it. I’d prefer it killed too, where possible.” The mercenary seemed competent enough, even if he’d gotten the inquisitor because he’d gotten the drop on him, doing so required keeping cool enough as not to broadcast a mental early warning. But Cale knew as well as any that regardless of the kind of weapon he brought to bear, it wasn’t going to put down a rampant Rancor.

The thing tucked beneath the sash hanging from Cale’s side might though. It was the Inquisitor’s blade, inert and untouched that he kept on him. For all his raging against the masterless padawan and the order he claimed to serve, something in Cale pushed him to do the bare minimum and not carry around the saber of Hector’s former master as though it belonged to him. Why that desire bested the nightmares spawned by him simply having ignited the blade himself in the days prior was beyond him, but it was what it was.

The spacer didn’t plan on using it, he had another pistol holstered to his thigh now, one he’d be far quicker to draw than the alternative. Blasters were reliable anyway, all one had to do was keep them clean and loaded and they worked fine, sabers there was so much maintenance, half of it unnecessary, instead done as some kind of meditation. He’d enjoyed it once, but now it just seemed foolish, as did most things.

“I’ll be outside, gonna make sure nothing beyond the gear got nicked, do a sweep to make sure we didn’t just blow through some Imperial patrol on the way down and kick the hornet’s nest. Anyone interested in taking the Felucian residency option, or are we good to get started fixing this?”

Ronan Calore | Aleksandr Stirsea | Tup Tup Bimbam | Hector Vale ​

 

[Hector Vale]

A light grin adorned the young Padawan’s face, even despite the circumstances. Really, he was just glad to have the mood lightened by Cale going away. He hummed a tune he had often heard on Coruscant, smiling at Tup Tup Bimbam and Aleksandr Stirsea .

Hector had studied Felucia before, and he knew it could be deadly, with not only the likes of Jungle Rancors and Acklays, but the Sith in control of the planet as well. Hector had not come face to face with a Sith before, really. The closest he had come was the Inquisitor, but any man who knew anything of the galaxy knew that the skill of an Inquisitor was nearly inconsequential compared to that of a Sith Lord.

Hector let the more pessimistic thoughts slip to the back of his mind as he hummed. The planet had some upsides, after all. It was very beautiful, and a far cry from the severe cold of Cadomai Prime. He turned to Aleks. “Well, looks like you finally have your chance to learn some more about the Force.”

 

[Ronan Calore]

Ronan looked at Cale as he spoke and gave a nod to the aged man. It was the only logical choice to have Ronan be the lookout, his helmets rangefinder and HUD would help him see anything better than Cale or the boys would.

Taking a rifle from a nearby rack Ronan looked to the boys and briefly pondered for a few seconds. They’re young, but was I any older than them when I started shooting? Eighteen years old when I blasted my first person, maybe I’ll be able to teach them better at least.

“Hold up a sec boys.” Ronan pulled a blaster from his boot and passed it to Aleks, and handed the carbine he had across his back to Hector. “These aren’t toys, Felucia is a dangerous planet full of all sorts of things that want to eat you or kill you.” Ronan gave both boys a quick run-through their weapons, Alek had been given an old Naboolian made S-5, a blaster with enough punch to knock the breath out of a Wookiee. Hector had been given an E-11, a carbine from the days of the Galactic Empire. “Only use these if you have to, and I’ll want them back, don’t break them.”

With that done Ronan left for the cockpit, and once he’d arrived began jacking into the ships systems seeing the status of each pop up on his HUD. “Looks like we were better off than I thought, nothings busted beyond repair from what I can see. Maybe that old man isn’t just some drunk.” After a sort bit the young mercenary was locked in the motion sensors, and smiling to himself left for the top.

Despite being a death planet, Felucia was beautiful in its own way, Ronan would just have to remember to keep his helmet on. Keeping the rifle close to him Ronan scanned the perimeter of the ship, while also keeping an eye on the sensors, taking note of the relative stillness of the tree line.

 

[Aleksandr Stirsea]

Felucia. Aleksandr knew nothing about the tropical planet beyond what his companions had told him. By his own observation though, he found the hugely oversized vegetation to be an exotic backdrop to their misfortune. There were no animals in sight of the crash, but from what Ronan Calore and Cale Gunderson had said, that was probably for the best. Fresh smoke and the sound of the impact was sure to draw attention however- from local fauna... or worse.

Aleks grinned back at Hector Vale , excited for another chance to use his newfound powers. The Force was strong on Felucia, for one reason or another. The thief could feel the lifeforms around him, Hector's genuine excitement, Ronan's preparedness, Cale was unreadable, a cold stone wall of solitude.

Accepting the S-5 heavy blaster from Ronan, Aleksandr smiled wide, turning the weapon over in his hands. He recognized the Nabooian influences of the design, a common art and architecture form taught at the Academy back on Atrisia. Studying the components outfitted on the blaster, Aleks recognized the highly energized power pack, this gun would fire green bolts instead of red. Twin scopes preformed the tasks of sighting and rangefinding, and a dart launcher located under the main barrel allowed for anesthetic microdarts to be fired at a rapid rate. It was a nice blaster pistol, certainly more expensive than any other armament Aleks had fired.

"Let's get this ships nose out of the mud, shall we?" Aleksandr left the invitation open to Tup Tup Bimbam and the padawan. With the gungan's massive frame and strength, and both force sensitives using their abilities, Aleks decided the task wouldn't be too much of a hassle. Making his way to the front of the ship, the lost scion of Stirsea closed his eyes, trying to reach into the power that was the Force. Everything faded away, from the soft breaths of his two friends to the crisp breeze that ruffled his hair and clothes. There was nothing but Aleksandr and the Force. A hand reached out, like he had seen Cale do when he took Daven's lightsaber from Hector. With all his might, he imagined the starship rising.

Annoyingly, reality had a way of ruining imagination. The ship's nose wouldn't budge, at least not with his weak control alone. Aleksandr needed practice, and in this case, help.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

Cale walked the length of the battered, but still stable ship, running his hand along her battered plating, examining the erosion of the paint the ship had come with, and wrenching bits of plant life from inbetween grooves and gaps. He'd never named her, in all these years the ship had been just that, the ship. Maybe it was time, maybe after he finished this he'd christen her something proper. Strange that a job he wasn't even paid for had him thinking like this.

His boots dug into damp mud, and he felt the heavy and humid air all around him, hot, sticky, miserable. If there was one thing he missed less than all the rest, it was showing up on worlds with such miserable climates, and being tasked with dealing with their miserable people. It was a crude, cruel thought, and it made his stomach twist. Cale knew he was meant to be indifferent now, unaffected, his mind his own. But the thought alone made him balk at the privileged outlook. He'd had a duty, one of honor, one to do good.

And then one to do the opposite.

He felt the saber on his side, and he wondered why he brought it at all. It wasn't his, he wondered if it had even initially belonged to the inquisitor, or if he'd received it from some predecessor. How did that work? Were they trained before being dispatched, or merely broken and reshaped then sent on their way? Did it matter?

Cale's eyes turned skyward, blue-green hues saw no Sith fighters scrambled overhead, no loaded gunships bound for them that he could see. But Cale did not feel satisfied with not seeing, and the temptation gnawed at his mind. The ever-present, all-surrounding living force seemed to beg to be let in, like a tame akk dog scratching at the door. Cale was tired, keeping it out drained him more than using it ever had.

Refusing one's natural state was exhausting, who'd have ever guessed?

Gunderson caved, as he aimlessly wandered into the jungle and let his awareness expand out and through the world around him. Life was everywhere, in every nook and cranny he could sense it. One great pulsating heartbeat, things large and small moved and breathed, hunted and gathered, were born and died. Something tugged at the corner of his lips, almost a smile, then there was something else.

Darkness.

Other Space Kaiden

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Many dark, chittering things lurk in the shadows of Felucia - evolution having taken a twisted turn on this isolated world, far from civilization. Rancors with jagged horns and black hides. Acklay with spider's legs and a mouth full of shark fangs.

But there were far more dangerous things than the natural happenings on this world...

Reptillian eyes glared out through the pitch black shadows, the sunlight peaking through the canopy casting them in a faint, yellow glow. Like the gaze of a hungry serpant they followed every turn of the neck and flick of the hands. Ooze dripped from bared fangs, a forked tongue slurping the air. It could taste the oceans of naboo...the copper tang of human blood...the sweet notes of The Force.

"Could your clan not handle a single vessel themselves" suddenly the yellow eyes found themselves overshadowed by a burning gaze - one that glowed in the darkness like orbs of flowing magma.

"Burned one" the set of reptillian eyes peeled away from its desired meal, The Graug they belonged to dropping to its knees in prayer and greeting.

"Enough of your pandering. My patience runs thin." Vulcanus hissed he hissed in Graugspeak, his shadow eclipsing completely the bowed form of his warlord - who was over seven feet in his own right. The Saint of Flames' detour to Felucia had been an increasingly irritable one. The planet was not his by right of Kaggath, but the Graug hordes abandoned here after The Sith Empire defeat were.

Yet at every turn they either disappointed him with stupidity or disgusted him with Zambrano loyalty.

"Forgive me, Black Flame" the Warlord pleaded, his dirty head lifting from the mud, "I bring you only as an offering. To prove my loyalty so that I may serve in the heat of your fire."

Rising to a kneel, the Warlord pointed through the thicket. A ship lay buried in the mud, its nose several meters into the surface. "Look upon them, my Burning Lord. Jedi. I can smell it on them. Tell me only what is to be done with them and I will do it for you."

The Dark Lord's brow raised and he crunched through the jungle brush to leer over the ship and crew. His firery gaze laid on a human far too frail to be a warrior ( Aleksandr Stirsea ) first. The child stuck his hand far out in front of him, the force swelled for a moment around him and then...nothing. Vulcanus scoffed and turned to the next.

A gungan and a handful of humans. All of them reeked of weakness. The Great Khaan was just about to let his hordes surge forth to kill them when a familiar scent wafted close by. The Lord's eyes narrowed...searched...found. Loose meat hung from jagged fangs as Vulcanus' frown turned to a wide grin.

Cale Gunderson . He knew the man not by name or even face, only by his scent. He had been One Sith during the time that Vulcanus had ruled as Seventh Day Emperor. The Burned God grew only more sure of this as Gunderson began wandering further and further from the ship - almost mindlessly.

Vulcanus could almost taste the moment the coward sensed him. The moment when the skittering lifeforms of the brush faded away...swallowed by the feeling of a black flame burning a dark hole in The Force. It would have been as if feeling the heat of an Inferno burning away the signs of life - leaving only the smoldering ashes of endless hunger and malice behind.

Then the beast stepped out from the shadows, shouldering past the trees until he was face to face with Gunderson. The Jedi wouldn't be able to see the smile beneath the helmet...but he could feel the sadistic glee.

Suddenly the blanket of jungle and darkness shifted before Cale's eyes...the pair of reptilian eyes returning and being joined by another. Then another. And another again until the black horizon had been replaced by an ocean of hungering gazes.

"Thrak Ul" Vulcanus commanded in his native tongue. Bring them.

And it was as if the jungle itself surged forward to do his will.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

By the time he knew what was coming, it was too late. Darkness grew and swelled, like a wound infected, bursting forth once open. He knew it, even before the hulking thing emerged from the trees, Cale knew what it was, who it was. Cale Gunderson had maintained a facade of indifference for nearly a decade, pretended to be unaffected, undeterred, and sometimes he even had been.

But now? Cale was afraid.

“Vulcanus.” Familiar on his tongue, though it left it scarce higher than a whisper, but the titan would hear it, Cale was sure of it. The way his voice faltered, rife with fear and disbelief. The Sith Lord would relish it, that much he was sure of.

There should’ve been more to say, once upon a time it would’ve been something dry, witty even. Once upon a time he’d had two arms, once upon a time he’d not been so broken. His hand never even moved towards the lightsaber as his gaze rested on the leader of the galaxy’s most ferocious pack.

The Gurag was a nightmare all on his own, but Cale sensed something worse than the Sith’s twisted joy, something far more terrifying. It recognized him. Vulcanus might not have known his name, nor his face now that it did not hide behind a soulless mask, but he knew exactly what Cale was, what he’d been.

Cale had never been Darth Venatorum, only the host for whatever it had been. A puppet on his string, but in that moment, in the depths of his fear, Cale felt the dark touch him. A hundred eyes peered out at him, and he knew all they meant to do. The boys, Tup Tup, Ronan, the ship, none of that occurred to him as the horde spilled forth.

All he could think was how he did not want to die this way, not to them. The force still flowed, but all at once the dark had cast a shadow over the light. With terror as his fuel, Cale’s arm shot upwards, and power with it.

A wave of telekinetic energy lurched from the outstretched palm, a desperate, thrashing thing. He didn’t know what to do, he was panicking, he only hoped it would throw back the horde long enough for him to turn. His heel dug deep into the mud, and Cale ran. He'd been a Jedi Knight once, and it'd made him proud. He wasn't supposed to have felt pride, but he did then, Cale had faced down odds the same or worse once, and he'd barely even been a man.

Maybe he'd just been too stupid to be afraid then.

“GET BACK IN THE SHIP, GET BACK IN THE SHIP!” There would be no negotiation with the likes of the Gurag, they’d tear them apart, tear him apart. They had to get away, nothing else mattered, only escape.

Hector Vale | Aleksandr Stirsea | Ronan Calore | Tup Tup Bimbam | Other Space Kaiden ​

 

[Ronan Calore]

Where Ronan had been relaxing before, comfortable in the quietness of the planet, his thoughts of what used to be home were shattered when the ships motion sensors went off, and the panicked voice of Cale rang in his helmet. “Maker above! Tup Tup, get the boys in the ship and get on the guns before they tear us apart!” In that moment Ronan had newfound respect for Cale, if he hadn’t told him to patch into the ships systems then he wouldn’t have seen that massive horde that encroached on their positions.

Taking out the long rifle he found in the ship, Ronan let off a few shots towards the beasts as the left the tree line, using his rangefinder to his advantage before realizing the futility of his shots. I really hope the boys kept those blasters on them.

“Cale I really hope you got the ship ready because if it’s not we’re done for.” Ronan climbed down from the top, drawing his pair of blaster pistols as he hit the solid earth. As he backed toward the ships hatch, firing his blasters while he did, he couldn’t bring himself to enter, at least not until he was sure everyone else was in before him.

 

[Hector Vale]

Hector felt opponents coming before he saw them, an powerful presence washing over his senses. Hector had met many beings strong in the force, but this one easily doubled that of the Inquisitor, Cale, Aleks or Daven. It was something he had not felt the likes of since his time at the temple. From the dense forest emerged many figures, not quite human from what Hector could tell. However, the Padawan had little time to think as the creatures rushed with reckless abandon.

Hector held his blaster tightly, taking a few pot shots and even hitting one square in the chest. Still, the creature stayed on its feet. Blasters, Hector thought, shaking his head. He had never understood why men relied on the most random of tools. Hector made his way to the ship, enhancing his speed ever so slightly with the use of the force.

Once on the ship, Hector wasted no time in finding his master’s saber. Igniting the blue blade and turning off the stun function, Hector ran back to the front of the ship, only to hear Cale’s order of retreat. He decided to made a stand at the ship’s entrance, guarding it until Cale entered.

For a moment, Hector’s eyes met those of the Gurag that Cale stood face to face with. Eyes imbued with hatred, reflecting the dark side of the force. This was a Sith Lord. Hector’s eyes widened as he was brought back to Coruscant.

Starfighters flew overhead as Hector, a mere boy at the time, gazed in equal wonder and fear, following Daven like a shadow. Hector’s grip around his green lightsaber was tight, but his master was more relaxed, in tune with the light side.

The Jedi Temple was a maze at times. Navigating through the corridors could be difficult even in calmer situations, but now it was a true nightmare. Turning corner after corner, seeing fallen Jedi after fallen Jedi, Hector closed his eyes for much of it, earning a few concerned looks from his master.

The pair would fly away from the planet, but the experience would never leave Hector. Watching the Temple, his true home, burn, he swore to bring justice to the Sith.

Now that Hector looked the enemy in the eyes, he rushed back inside, still wide-eyed and with his saber still emanating its blue energy.

 

[Aleksandr Stirsea]

There was no time to think anymore, there was only the chance at life and the chance at death. His self-preservation instincts screamed at him to run. To turn tail and do as the adults said. To save himself.

But there was a tug on his brain of another instinct. Another thought that desperately pulled at his mind in the hopes that he might realize it. Aleksandr Stirsea- after all this time- still wanted to be a hero. A hero like his father, who had been killed not in the line of action, but as the result of other men's greed. A hero like his mother, who had fought till the end as sickness racked her body and sapped her strength. A hero like Cale Gunderson , who had saved two orphan boys on a backwater frozen planet for no other reason than it was the right thing to do.

Aleksandr took a step forward. And decided to be a hero.

"Get away from him!" The noise that escaped him was a mix of a last-ditch plea and an unwavering command. Aleks screamed it out with everything he had. The heavy blaster in his grip heated up and spat hot plasma at the approaching reptilians, blasting one after the other in their eyes and chests. Aleksandr couldn't waste a shot. So he didn't. He threw his last five bolts in the direction of the Sith Lord, and when the overloaded muzzle of the S-5 whined its protest Aleks squeezed the trigger still. The heat of the battery pack burned at his hands, but he couldn't feel it, not with the adrenaline that rushed through his veins at such a rapid pace. With no shots left to speak of, Aleks holstered his Nabooian blaster pistol and reached into himself. He reached into the Force. It hadn't aided him before, but in such a do or die situation the greater powers at play found a way of making themselves seen. A blast of force shot forward, nothing Felucia hadn't seen before, but hopefully it was enough to buy Cale a second more of time.

His abilities exhausted, Aleksandr finally sprinted for the metallic ramp of the freighter, his heart racing faster with every stomp of his black boots. He fumbled replacing his battery pack, but when it was finally in place he fired a steady stream of green lasers as covering fire for his allies. This wasn't where they died, he hoped not at least.

"Who the hell is that?" He yelled to no one in particular, his eyes falling on the practically comatose Hector Vale .

"Do you know him?"

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

"You would deny me my next trophy?" Vulcanus mused sarcastically at Cale as he became a blur of speed in the opposite direction - the shadow of The Horde closing in upon him. The Sith Lord laughed as he watched and gave leisurely chase, the likes of Allyson Locke 's lightsaber and Jedi Knight Ryv 's cybernetic arm dangling from his trophy belt. Both had at least challenged him, stood face to face with demise.

This coward did nothing but run.

"Such fear." Vulcanus hissed at Cale's back as the ship and its crew grew closer, "It is worthy of a Zambrano dog!"

Whatever the truth was of the One Sith, to Vulcanus it had simply been another Carnifex plot. And all that served Zambrano, at least to Vulcanus, was a fear filled mongrel...and oh how these lesses smelled of fear. The Dark Lord took in the symphony of panic, fueling his own power with it.

Then the air sizzled and cracked, a branch near Vulcanus' skull exploding into flame. The attack drew Vulcanus' attention to the ship itself where he found the assailant. A lesser-thing ( Ronan Calore ) stood in the hatch of the ship with pistols in hand - barrels flashing as he poured fire into the jungle. Bolts crashed here and there, catching fire to shrubbery and sending the unlucky Graug crashing into the mud lifelessly.

"Are these your protectors, weakling?" Vulcanus mused again to Cale, his paced march and casual tone as if there were no battle at all, "do you bring them to die in your stead?"

No sooner had the question been asked then did a blue blade ignite just outside the ship ramp. Eyes like smoldering coals set upon Hector Vale , drawn by the Jedi weapon in hand. All at once the boy would feel it.

Hunger. Insatiable hunger. The beast's eyes would not divert from Hector's own, even as blaster fire exploded around him. The beast's forked tongue slid over oozing lips, a clawed hand gripping The Inferno that sat sheathed at his side. Even the sword itself pulsed with dark energy as if lasted for blood.

Vulcanus did not fear the boy's saber...he yearned for him to use. But in that moment the boy turned and ran for the ship - and Vulcanus' thunderous laughter would chase him inside.

"Where are you going, boy?! You challenge me and run? Face me and die!" The beast's voice was like something called down from the sky, booming over the sounds of claws, boots and blaster fire...and it was dripping with sadistic amusement.

Another flurry of blaster fire, this time flashing across the front line of charging warriors. Howls of pain echoed down the line as blaster fire struck true, sending pained Graug to the mud to be trampled by their brethren. Vulcanus' gaze shifted once more now that he was closing into a mere twenty meters of the vessel.

Five bolts rang out and Vulcanus' hand shot upwards. The first was batted away like an annoying insect, striking the ground at his feet. The second struck his armor and exploded into a cloud of energy. The next two were slapped into the sky and the final hit true - shunting the beast back half a step...but then he laughed it off and continued forward.

"Pathetic" Vulcanus spat as he watched the Hordes close in on Cale when suddenly the same boy ( Aleksandr Stirsea ) who'd fired at him ran forward and threw his arms forward. Soil, grass and air surged toward Vulcanus and his horde. The beasts at the head of the charge fumbled and spilled over one another while Vulcanus simply dug his boots into the mud and watched.

Not more powerful than a mere learner...but so much more ferocity than the coward with the saber. Vulcanus smiled, eyes of boiling magma setting on Aleksander as he ran for the cover of the ship. Now it was this boys turn to feel the shadow of a Dark Lord.

A haunting hunger. A bloodthirst that choked the air. The echoing screams of a thousand generations put to sword and chain at his command.

"I see you, boy" Vulcanus called out as he focused on the heat pulsating from the energy pack in his weapon, "your master has failed you. Brought you to me."

He knew not how they were all related, but the power imbalance between Cale and the others led his assumptions,

"you are mine now." With a surge of energy, Vulcanus focused his pyromantic ability on the charge pack - creating heat within it. In seconds it would overcharge and explode - ideally enough to destroy the weapon and take the boys flesh with it.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

As on Cadomai, Cale cursed himself, and then the others. Aleksandr Stirsea in particular drew his ire, for in that moment he knew. He could not let the Gurag have him, nor Hector, nor any of the others. Cale had to fight, as he always did. He turned on his heel, mud kicking up in his wake. Maybe here would do? It was a dark world with a bloody history, but life was all around him, even shrouded in darkness by the shadow of a beast that may as well have been death itself. He wondered if she'd have thought well of him, if this was how he died.

Your master, the Sith was confused, Cale wasn't the boy's anything, just a fool who'd stepped in at the wrong, or perhaps right time. If Aleksandr ever left the planet, then maybe it'd be worth it. Hector Vale could teach him, show him the basics at least, get him to whatever temple or enclave might have him. Still, the words stirred something in him.

You are mine now

No. No he would not allow it. No one else, not again, never again.

This wasn't Cadomai, Cale wasn't drunk on anything but adrenaline and fear. A dangerous cocktail, but one that gave strength in the right circumstances. A Gurag missed by Aleksandr and Ronan Calore 's barrage lunged for him, hands outstretched to rip and tear the broken man. Instead a beam of crimson came to life with a snap-hiss, and split the creature in two. The inquisitor's saber was still strange to hold, so similar to the one's he'd once called his own, yet different beyond words.

With a flourish he took another's arm, then another's head, the red casting itself over him as he brought the saber to the ready. His stance looked strange no doubt, his footing was good as always, but the way he held the saber seemed wrong. In a way it was, Cale knew Form V by heart, but it practically required two hands, while he had but the one.

"Kid isn't anyone's. I dunno who you're calling a Zambrano dog, ain't this his dominion still, don't you got one of his kids to go answer to?" His voice came out dry, spiteful, betraying little of the fear both he and Other Space Kaiden knew was in his veins. He stood in spite of it., eyes flicking between the saber at the Gurag's side, the arm dangling next to it, and the horrid sword in his hands. Did no one bother with sabers anymore?

"Stop karking around on the ramp and get that thing in the air!" He called back to the boys, hoping that reason would best teenage bravado.

 

[Ronan Calore]

“Maker above will someone get the doshin’ ship in the air!?” The frustration in Ronan’s voice was clear, he was used to relying on himself, or at least people with the proper skill set for this type of work, not boys and old men. But still, the bounty hunter fired at the creatures, doing his best to keep the ramp clear as Cale used his lightsaber to dismember the beasts with strange skill and Aleksander wildly squeezed the trigger of the borrowed blaster.

Glancing behind him, Ronan would see Hector Vale standing still, holding his bright blue lightsaber as if in a trance. “Is that some kind of Jedi thing? No, even I can tell there’s something wrong with him.”

“Aleks, take Hector and get in the cockpit! Use-“ Ronan’s words were cut off by one of the creatures lunging at his left side and swiping one of his blasters away, a favor which the gunslinger returned with a few shots to the creatures menacing face. “Use the cannons if you have to!” Had Ronan ever been as inept as they, no not inept, raw, given the circumstances the boys had performed well, better than most untested youths, but right now they were hindrances more than anything else.

Still, even as he fired Ronan could feel a strange sense of dread that he’d not felt since his first deployment. It was unnatural, and made his heart sink into his stomach.

 

[Hector Vale]

Hector’s face was pale as his grip tightened around his lightsaber. He turned to Aleks slowly. “That is a Sith Lord. Run.” he tried to keep his voice steady. There is no emotion, there is peace, he reminded himself. “I might be able to... to do something. You get away from him.”

Hector heard the Sith Lord’s taunts, but did his best to clear his mind. He did his best to remember every bit of lightsaber training that his master taught him. Seconds felt like hours as he rushed out to help Cale.

Blue blade emanating pure energy, Hector took the stance he was most familiar with, that of Ataru. With all the agility he could muster, combined with the enhancements provided by the force, he flipped over the head of a Graug, quickly turning and slicing it in two. He turned to Cale. “Anything we could do with The Force?” he asked, before planting his saber into another adversary’s chest. “We won’t survive in a straight fight.”

 

[Aleksandr Stirsea]

Every word the hulking Sith Lord spoke seemed to resonate with a feeling of unending darkness. There was a certain malice in his voice, like he hated something far ahead of him, and he would do anything to remove those in his path. The inquisitor had wanted to break Aleksandr's will and turn him into a tool for the Sith to wield. This warrior though? He wasn't the kind that used tools. He was the kind that broke them.

There was a sudden heat that seared Aleksandr's hand, then suddenly, fire. His S-5's charger pack erupted in a mangle of green fire and slag, and the burning sensation caused him to scream out in agony.

"Argh!" Not a graceful sound, but it was his natural reaction to such a sudden pain. What the hell was he doing here? Aleksandr Stirsea wasn't some soldier. He wasn't a warrior at all, he definitely wasn't a hero. His blue eyes narrowed at the Sith that slowly made his approach from across the field. He was the one that had exploded his battery pack, it hadn't been some freak malfunction, he was sure of it.

Aleksandr would pay him back one day, but this was not that day.

Instead the thief sprung backwards, making his way down the halls of the freighter ship. He rummaged through cabinets with his left hand while clutching his right to his chest. When he found what he sought- the small tube of bacta among his other possessions- he plastered his burned hand with the substance, grimacing at the sting. Gauze was wrapped around his bacta covered hand, but Aleksandr hesitated before he moved again. With no weapons to speak of- and such novice control over the Force- it was likely he would be nothing more than an impediment on his companions.

He clenched his fists despite the pain.

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

"Ahhhhh, you should have prayed that was true" Vulcanus answered as Cale Gunderson spoke of Zambrano, "maybe then he would talk and pamper you, use you and your learners as more cushions in his harem of freaks."

Leaves and blades of grass shriveled to black husks as the water within suddenly evaporated - some of the greenery catching fire as the beast's power heated the air around him. Cale called for his friends to get their ship in the air, Vulcanus simply laughed - blade of his sword dragging through the dirt and mud.

"I have no such drive. I will make you watch as I peel the flesh from their knuckles and the teeth from their gums. Take their eyes and starve them one by one until they wither away or join me as a broken husk of a slave...and when I can take nothing more from them..then you may die."

Another burst of blaster fire from Ronan Calore slammed into the beast, this time hitting true on his helm. Smoke, ash and energy exploded into a brief cloud that sent The Sith Lord's helm tumbling through the underbrush. There was no scream of pain, but as his eyes turned back to his foes, they would all see the burning scales where his eye had once been...

...then they would see the impossible. The secret of Tulak Horde that The Worm Emperor had granted to him. Tendrils of wet skin snapped back into place, muscles pulling and buldging like a living thing as his body drew on his own rage to heal. The smoke would continue to rise from the burning flesh as it was slowly canibalized by his own body - and the Great Khaan would only watch as Hector Vale threw himself bravely back into The Horde.

"Ah, the coward returns, spurred by the sacrifice of his master." Vulcanus taunted as the wound continued to heal, listening closely as the learner spoke to the master. Then, wordlessly, the beast raised an open palm into the air.

As if by divine power, The Horde stopped in its tracks - the chaotic jungle going silent with all but the sounds of local fauna in retreat. All at once the fighting stopped, The Graug backing away from their adversaries with little more than low growls of hunger.

"The Force" Vulcanus' voice was like that of a Mountain, so much louder now that the he had stopped the ferocious attack of his Horde, "You do not command The Force, it commands you. That is why you are weak. You are nothing but a pawn in a game played on a realm so far beyond your imagining that you cannot even begin to understand it."

With a quiet, unsettling calmness that contrasted so harshly with the storm of rage that was his presence, Vulcanus dug his Sith Sword into the ground beside him. "But The Eternal are far beyond that. Unbound by its will. We do not command or grovel. We create at will."

The beast's razor sharp digits stretched out as wells of power began focusing in the palms of his hands. "He has issued his challenge and you yours. So let us teach your learners a lesson, One Sith."

Without warning Vulcanus lunged for Hector, claws splayed to cut through flesh and bone with his right - while a fireball grew in his left.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

It should've been the promise of endless agony that struck fear into him, or the way flesh and sinew seemed to consume itself as the Gurag's flesh seemed to practically eat its own wounds, but neither did. The Gurag had unfathomable cruelty down to an art form, it was their cultural specialty, such horrid assurances were to be expected. As for the mending of the wounds, it was beyond healing he'd seen, a dark perversion of the healing techniques he remembered being taught on the fields of Tython, mending the wounds of farm animals. But Cale knew what the Dark Side was capable of.

Velok, Carnifex, scores of others. They'd come back from the clutches of death itself, their wretched souls given life once more. What it cost them he'd never truly know, but he knew it had been high, but likely not in any manner that mattered to them. Vulcanus' mending was just another twisted gift of the Dark Side.

But the way he spoke of the force sent a chill down his spine. Maybe the Sith was lying, maybe he didn't think that he was, but in the end was mistaken. The Force was infinite, all powerful, but the way power seemed to radiate out from the Dark Lord, the smallest part of Cale wondered if Vulcanus was not only speaking honestly, but that the words were true.

What did it mean for the galaxy, for the universe, if some madmen had surpassed the all powerful force and made it their own? To create, destroy, and change at their will? How could such a thing be?

It was that thought which made him truly afraid.

Then the hulking monstrosity moved, bound for a boy who thought himself a Jedi, but was little more than a boy clutching desperately to a saber he could hardly wield. His form looked strong, at least. "Hector get back in the ship!" He screamed.

Cale surged towards Vulcanus, but the force did not carry him, only his own to legs as fast as he could, slashing out at the Sith Lord with the crimson blade, the beam of energy arcing outwards at the Gurag's hand in some desperate attempt to disarm him.

"One lesson at a time, huh big guy?" The weary exile proposed through a drawl, uncertainty plaguing his every move down to the swing of his saber.

Other Space Kaiden Hector Vale ​