First Reply Shadow that Lurks Among Kinrah

[Daghishat]

The Planet of Kinrah had been left to its own devices ever since it was abandoned by a Rebel Cell during the Galactic Civil War. Settlements among the dense forests and swamps were sparce on this forgotten corner of the galactic community mostly made up of crazed exiles and criminals looking to avoid law enforcement operating within the area. Although they would be caught entirely unaware of the treacherous monster that lurked among them, silently waiting for a chance to lash out in order to fulfil its ever growing hunger. This monster was none other than a Drengir...., a plant like species from the Wild Space Planet of Mulita. Long thought mostly extinct from the galaxy with a few isolated pockets remaining on long forgotten worlds.

In the heart of the murky terrain, where the shadows dance and the air hangs heavy with an eerie stillness sits a long forgotten temple used as the base for the Rebel Cell although now covered in moss and trees. Inside lurks a grotesque creature, born from a distinct past and fueled by the dark side of the force, is a sight that would send shivers down the spines of the bravest souls. With mottled green roots, covered in slimy moss and oozing with foul smelling scent, this Drengir embodies the very essence of repugnance. Its hulking form towers above the reeds and cattails, leaving a single path of destruction in its eternal search for food. Weaving in and out of the trees with its long tangled arms dripping with poisons of the most potent source.

Moving through the murk water towards its next victim, whose only sense of recourse is to send a distress signal before entirely disappearing into the maw of the ravenous beast.

THERE IS ONLY HUNGER IN HE WHO LEACHES​

 

[Spek Zhio]

The Zeltron woke up drenched in cold sweat. It took him a few seconds to return to reality, from that weird dream of lush forests and gargantuan vine tendrils piercing a dark ominous sky. Why could he not remember what the dream was about, mere seconds after waking up?

Rubbing his eyes, he stood up, naked, and walked towards the nearest life support console. "Humph... Temperature readings are normal," he raised his head towards the ceiling, addressing the ship. "I thought your temp controls were on the fritz again, Alcy."

Usually, the ship would answer with a blinking of lights in a certain rhythmic pattern. Only this time, it was with the klaxon of a nearby distress signal and the jolt from the automated jump out from hyperspace.

Spek Zhio, the sole occupant of his retrofit YT-1930, rushed to the cockpit. "What is it LC?" He questioned the heuristic processor taking the place of a ship's computer, that was incapable of verbally answering back. "Kinrah? Where the hell is that? Where are we?

"Nevermind," he urged, as he sat back against the pilot's seat, "Kinrah it is... but, the name... sounds familiar somehow?"

The ship's durasteel and titanium-chromium alloy hull, safeguarded it from the atmospheric drag of reentry, while the deflector shields did similar for the aerodynamic heating. It eventually landed, more nimbly that a ship of her class had any right to, through a clearing on the canopy of that dreary jungle. Made more dismal to Spek from the lingering remnants of the dream he just had, as he was examining it through the cockpit's viewport.

"Alcy, upload the location of the distress signal to my datapad, along with terrain and atmospheric readings. The usual." He could not shake that feeling. Whatever it was. "I'm gonna suit up."

Was it... memory?

Daghishat

 

[Daghishat]

The poisoned soaked, lanky tendrils of the Drengir looped around branches, twisting them aside in order to make room for the grotesque creature known as He Who Leaches. The mass of roots and moss moved slowly through the murky and diseased ridden waters of the dense forests and swamps that made up Kinrah in a never ending search for other sentient life which could be persuaded to join the collective consciousness of the their species. Those that refused or resisted the generous gift would be consumed completely into his ravenous maw.

The faint glow of a starship entering into the atmosphere would draw the monster's attention for just a brief moment. It would seem that a keen intelligence lay behind the Drengir as it deduced that this was simply another victim to feed upon when they least suspected it.

Join us...Join us...be free....from worry...​

Those words echoed through the swamp, bouncing off trees and other objects scattered across the terrain in an attempt to draw the person towards him in a calculated ambush as the monster slipped underneath the murky waves of a nearby river.

Spek Zhio

 

[Spek Zhio]

Fully dressed save for his red jacket, Zhio reached towards the coat hangar, but suddenly stopped. His hand frozen in the air.

Preliminary readings had shown the planet's atmosphere to be breathable. The gravity seemed adequate as well. But the new data coming in, as he was reading it through a wall display, had several other parameters near an uncomfortable extreme. Even if, still well within something that his natural physiology - not even accounting for the assistance of the Force - could endure.

"Better not take the jacket this time," he said to himself, pacing towards the locker where his gear was stored. "The air is damp and I'm sure the heat will be suffocating."

The captain of a one-man crew, buckled his utility belt around the waist, already packed with the usual miscellanea that he tended to carry in it. Among which, were a grappling spike launcher and aquata breather that would surely come in handy.

Spek would wager, from stories told after a couple of drinks, that more often than not, distress beacons are nothing more than stranded ships. A leak, no fuel, a malfunctioning doodad. Nothing that would require blasters or lightsabers.

He then grabbed both his Mercury-Class blasters, both his lightsabers as well, and The Kingfisher to complete the full set.

After all, his own experiences with distress signals, heavily skewed the probability towards trouble.

His relationship with the Force was one of give and take. He pulled from the Force in order to navigate the hyperlanes, in the absence of a working navicomputer. But, sometimes, the Force would be the one pulling him to where he ought to be.

"And I'm always expected to be surrounded by bantha excrement." He said, getting ready to turn around. Then, a last minute thought invaded his mind. Praised be the great stinky bantha!

"I'm sure I must have some of those fragrances left in here..." He began scouring the cabinets of his quarters for one last item, until finally retrieving the small green vial. "Found it!" Spek loaded the Echo scent onto his pheromone bracelet.

Memory. Somehow he felt that memory was going to be key here.

His face got promptly smacked with the sweltering fetid miasma of the swamp, upon activating the switch that controlled the hatch sheltering him from the outside. He winced, and glanced at the datapad with the info that Alcyone had uploaded, in search for the coordinates of the distress signal.

However, despite the technological aid and before even stepping out, he already knew where it would take him.

A cry, from not far away, calling to him. For him. To become whole. Not an audible one, but almost as if tactile to his Force sense.

Then, the audible made itself known...

"As if I'm gonna fall for that cheap trick, so easily!" Zhio laughed out loud, carefully trudging through the shallow liquid murk around his ankles. "Join us?... Give me a break!..." The waters seemed to deepen and widen some distance ahead, following the current path he was taking, on what he estimated could constitute a river.

Daghishat