Revenchent
Dungeon Master
The wind whipping snow was strong enough to rend flesh from bone, and it was doing a number on the Belbulab. The silver slip of a ship fought violently with this world—uncharted, and unnamed—for dominance over the elements. It shook vigorously and more than a few times, threatened to dive straight for the snowy peaks below.
Calico felt sweat drip down his brow as he pulled the ship into a tight right turn to narrowly avoid one of the jagged peaks. He had come to this world on impulse. His son was gone; off to join the Sith. His brother was with the Confederacy and supposedly alive and well, yet he had never bothered to contact Calico. His lover was simply gone; lost in the final battle against the Sith. He had no idea if she had returned or not, as the men who went to retrieve her had never returned to the Concord.
He tilted his helmeted head toward the spider-like droid attached to the chassis of his shuttle on the outside. The Monitor certainly wasn’t bothered by the bitter cold. Calico sighed to himself, and played through the events that had brought him here as a bright green light began to shine through the white din of snow.
“It is not your fault that they are imperfect.” The spider droid stated in its disturbingly monotone voice. Calico pulled the dirty towel from his face and stared down at the droid. “What?”
“It is not your fault. You have succeeded and survived where others have failed.”
”What are you talking ab-“
“You wish to know of why you were brought here, yes? I will show you.”
The droid whirred around on its pointed feet and quickly exited the Chieftain’s quarters. With a groan, Calico lifted his helmet back unto his head and followed. What did the old thing mean as to what had brought him here? The Monitor proved to be far faster than anticipated, as Calico had to jog to keep up as it turned down the confusing twisting tunnels of the Lifeship. He found himself out of breath when they emerged in one of the many hangers, and the droid was already latched on to the outer plating of his Belbulab.
”What in Corellia’s Nine Hells do you think you’re doing?” He called out as he slowly closed the distance. The hatch to the Belbulab had already hissed open, and the droid popped its cyndrical head up to seemingly stare at Calico.
“Preparing. There is nothing for you here now, is there? The other Tal’verda can survive without you for a day or so. What could it hurt?”
The Belbulab slowly drifted down unto a single shockingly white landing pad, which was held up by a large metal frame bolted to the side of the mountain. Calico made sure everything checked out on his HUD, did his best to ignore the howling winds outside, and pushed down the depressing hole that he felt in his stomach. He had the Concord, but oh, the things he had done. It had been for everyone’s good, but it had only resulted in loss and failure. His failure. It even drew trouble toward the Concord, and people had, in private, expressed just how much resentment was directed toward him.
Ori’alor and Canal were all that remained, and he couldn’t sit by and just accept that the rest of his family was gone—dead, left him, hated him. Things had seemed like a new start in this time. A blessing from whatever divine being controlled the events within the galaxy. In truth, he was the same man he had been in the Clone Wars. He hadn't changed one bit; only gained more knowledge. People were savage animals, and it hadn't changed. He’d always done what was necessary for the greater good when others shirked away from such a terrible responsibility. Why could no one see that?!
The cockpit hissed open and let the freezing cold suck out the artificial, comforting warmth of the ship. Calico pushed himself out of the leather seat; his red kama swaying as his heavily armored boots crunched snow between metal. ”Where is this?” He mumbled into the private comm. It was necessary to hear over the howl of the storm.
“This is home.” The Monitor replied as it crossed through the snow with unsettling grace. Suddenly, the ground landing pad began to groan as if it were about to collapse. Calico yelped, and began to turn toward his fighter until the Monitor held up a sickle appendage up for calm. The snow that had built up against the mountain seemed to crack, shift, and then, pulled apart completely. A blinding yellow light shot out from the crack, which was large enough for a tank to drive through, and two figures similar in shape to the Monitor approached.
Similar, because they were identical.
“Ah, Monitor, I am pleased your chassis is still in one piece.” One remarked as they both began to circle their lost companion. “Yes, I take care of myself when needed. The subject has passed all examinations.” The Monitor replied. “I am…pleased.”
Calico narrowed his eyes and blinked twice for the electrical radar on his HUD to form. It took up a small portion of the visor. He stared at it for a moment, and let out a silent gasp. Nothing was on the screen. It also seemed that the droids had patched in effortlessly to his comms system, though perhaps the Monitor had simply let them in.
“Inside then. The cold is bad for my joints.” The third droid remarked, and took off for the apparent safety of the yellow light. Its companions followed after it and left Calico to simply stand, mouth slightly agape.
“Come on then!” The Monitor called out through the comms. Calico found himself out of his little daze, and took off at a brisk jog after the droids. He quickly entered the warm glow of light and found his boots contacting a tan tiled floor. The doors behind him shut with a loud thump, and the droids continued on down the hall without a word.
”Hold on.” He ordered, stopping in front of a massive room filled with technological contraptions the likes of which he had never seen before. ”What is this? Where is this, and why am I here?”
The three droids stopped in unison. The one on the left—clearly the Monitor by its slightly lower pitched voice—spoke up. “This is one of the Architects’ many facilities. We are members of the Architects…the location will remain a secret, as we would like to avoid invaders, and you are here for a number of reasons.”
The two droids next to it both departed toward machines in different corners of the room. The Monitor continued. “You wish to know why it is we preserved you and your brethren. You wish to know why we chose you over the other. You wish to know what we are, and you wish to fix all the wrongs you perceive you have made.” The spider droid rose on its appendages to stand a foot taller than Calico’s two meter height. “I will tell you, they were not wrongs, and others have only perceived them as such. I will tell you all, and you will have the answers for everything that’s haunted you.”
Calico opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. Instead, he reached up and removed his helmet. The smell of sterilized air and a rush of warmth greeted him as he stared at the droid’s photoreceptors. ”Better get to explaining then.”
Calico felt sweat drip down his brow as he pulled the ship into a tight right turn to narrowly avoid one of the jagged peaks. He had come to this world on impulse. His son was gone; off to join the Sith. His brother was with the Confederacy and supposedly alive and well, yet he had never bothered to contact Calico. His lover was simply gone; lost in the final battle against the Sith. He had no idea if she had returned or not, as the men who went to retrieve her had never returned to the Concord.
He tilted his helmeted head toward the spider-like droid attached to the chassis of his shuttle on the outside. The Monitor certainly wasn’t bothered by the bitter cold. Calico sighed to himself, and played through the events that had brought him here as a bright green light began to shine through the white din of snow.
“It is not your fault that they are imperfect.” The spider droid stated in its disturbingly monotone voice. Calico pulled the dirty towel from his face and stared down at the droid. “What?”
“It is not your fault. You have succeeded and survived where others have failed.”
”What are you talking ab-“
“You wish to know of why you were brought here, yes? I will show you.”
The droid whirred around on its pointed feet and quickly exited the Chieftain’s quarters. With a groan, Calico lifted his helmet back unto his head and followed. What did the old thing mean as to what had brought him here? The Monitor proved to be far faster than anticipated, as Calico had to jog to keep up as it turned down the confusing twisting tunnels of the Lifeship. He found himself out of breath when they emerged in one of the many hangers, and the droid was already latched on to the outer plating of his Belbulab.
”What in Corellia’s Nine Hells do you think you’re doing?” He called out as he slowly closed the distance. The hatch to the Belbulab had already hissed open, and the droid popped its cyndrical head up to seemingly stare at Calico.
“Preparing. There is nothing for you here now, is there? The other Tal’verda can survive without you for a day or so. What could it hurt?”
The Belbulab slowly drifted down unto a single shockingly white landing pad, which was held up by a large metal frame bolted to the side of the mountain. Calico made sure everything checked out on his HUD, did his best to ignore the howling winds outside, and pushed down the depressing hole that he felt in his stomach. He had the Concord, but oh, the things he had done. It had been for everyone’s good, but it had only resulted in loss and failure. His failure. It even drew trouble toward the Concord, and people had, in private, expressed just how much resentment was directed toward him.
Ori’alor and Canal were all that remained, and he couldn’t sit by and just accept that the rest of his family was gone—dead, left him, hated him. Things had seemed like a new start in this time. A blessing from whatever divine being controlled the events within the galaxy. In truth, he was the same man he had been in the Clone Wars. He hadn't changed one bit; only gained more knowledge. People were savage animals, and it hadn't changed. He’d always done what was necessary for the greater good when others shirked away from such a terrible responsibility. Why could no one see that?!
The cockpit hissed open and let the freezing cold suck out the artificial, comforting warmth of the ship. Calico pushed himself out of the leather seat; his red kama swaying as his heavily armored boots crunched snow between metal. ”Where is this?” He mumbled into the private comm. It was necessary to hear over the howl of the storm.
“This is home.” The Monitor replied as it crossed through the snow with unsettling grace. Suddenly, the ground landing pad began to groan as if it were about to collapse. Calico yelped, and began to turn toward his fighter until the Monitor held up a sickle appendage up for calm. The snow that had built up against the mountain seemed to crack, shift, and then, pulled apart completely. A blinding yellow light shot out from the crack, which was large enough for a tank to drive through, and two figures similar in shape to the Monitor approached.
Similar, because they were identical.
“Ah, Monitor, I am pleased your chassis is still in one piece.” One remarked as they both began to circle their lost companion. “Yes, I take care of myself when needed. The subject has passed all examinations.” The Monitor replied. “I am…pleased.”
Calico narrowed his eyes and blinked twice for the electrical radar on his HUD to form. It took up a small portion of the visor. He stared at it for a moment, and let out a silent gasp. Nothing was on the screen. It also seemed that the droids had patched in effortlessly to his comms system, though perhaps the Monitor had simply let them in.
“Inside then. The cold is bad for my joints.” The third droid remarked, and took off for the apparent safety of the yellow light. Its companions followed after it and left Calico to simply stand, mouth slightly agape.
“Come on then!” The Monitor called out through the comms. Calico found himself out of his little daze, and took off at a brisk jog after the droids. He quickly entered the warm glow of light and found his boots contacting a tan tiled floor. The doors behind him shut with a loud thump, and the droids continued on down the hall without a word.
”Hold on.” He ordered, stopping in front of a massive room filled with technological contraptions the likes of which he had never seen before. ”What is this? Where is this, and why am I here?”
The three droids stopped in unison. The one on the left—clearly the Monitor by its slightly lower pitched voice—spoke up. “This is one of the Architects’ many facilities. We are members of the Architects…the location will remain a secret, as we would like to avoid invaders, and you are here for a number of reasons.”
The two droids next to it both departed toward machines in different corners of the room. The Monitor continued. “You wish to know why it is we preserved you and your brethren. You wish to know why we chose you over the other. You wish to know what we are, and you wish to fix all the wrongs you perceive you have made.” The spider droid rose on its appendages to stand a foot taller than Calico’s two meter height. “I will tell you, they were not wrongs, and others have only perceived them as such. I will tell you all, and you will have the answers for everything that’s haunted you.”
Calico opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. Instead, he reached up and removed his helmet. The smell of sterilized air and a rush of warmth greeted him as he stared at the droid’s photoreceptors. ”Better get to explaining then.”