Blood of Heroes, Part X
Posted: 2004-09-19 06:58pm
The guard looked up as a stormtrooper entered holding a datapad. The guard continued entering the information in for his report, ignoring him. These new troopers always needed to learn their place when it came to the detention blocks, otherwise they tended to overstep their authority and risk security breaches.
"Sir," the trooper finally said.
"I am busy," the guard growled.
"Sir, I need to deliver this message," the stormtrooper said. "And I have a ticket for the gladiatorial games in less than an hour."
The guard looked up, suspicion on his face. "You're not being reassigned?"
"No sir. I have a message from Volgo Terraine for the prisoner, Sebastian Skywalker." The stormtrooper handed over the orders, causing the guard to bristle slightly. One of those damn ISB cover jobs, which required him to turn off the sensors in the cell for "privacy," which usually meant some heavy persuasion. That didn't seem likely under the circumstances, however, but there was nothing he could do about it. Every order was checked against the sensor logs, and if he violated it he'd wind up in one of their holding cells under going very heavy persuasion. He checked the cell one last time to verify the prisoner was still in there, then deactivated the sensors.
Twenty minutes later the chime rang for the cell. The guard switched the sensors back on and saw the trooper ready to exit, the prisoner lying on the bunk. The guard tapped his lips a moment, then gestured for two stormtroopers to join him as he walked down the cell block. He entered the code and opened the door, the trooper inside waiting with the patience of a stormtrooper. "Prisoner," the guard called, "stand up." The two flanking stormtroopers held their weapons at the ready.
Sebastian rolled over on the bunk. "What?" he asked as he got to his feet. The guard frowned as he pulled out a scanner, but they confirmed this wasn't some illusion. He put it away with a huff, then gestured for the trooper to exit.
Once the trooper was out the guard sealed the door. "Enjoy the race," he said as he led them back down the detention block.
"Thanks," the trooper replied. "But it's a gladiatorial match, not a race."
"Yes, of course," the guard replied shortly. He resumed his post, checking in on the prisoner, he seemed to be lying down again. The guard thought some more, then activated the comm. "Prisoner, stand up."
Sebastian rolled over. "I have a name, you know," he replied moodily, then got back to his feet. The guard ran another sensor sweep, but found nothing out of the ordinary.
"What did you two talk about?" the guard asked.
"I'm not at liberty to say," Sebastian said.
"The ISB give you a rough time?"
"I don't know what you mean. There is no ISB."
"Of course," the guard said. He hated this cloak and dagger poodoo; it made his life difficult.
The stormtrooper left the building and took a public transport to an apartment complex on the outskirts of the capital. His every step was exact, his choices made without hesitation or missteps. He flashed an ID to a protocol droid upon entry without missing a step as he headed for the turbolift. He exited and continued to the room without searching, as if he'd been there a thousand times and knew it by rote. He activated the chime; a Klingon answered.
"What do you want?" Gorren growled at him.
The stormtrooper removed his helmet. "I want my lightsaber back," Sebastian said.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Nom Anor finished connecting to the network relay, an overall unpleasant experience for him despite his time living amongst these technophiles. Still, this was the most effective way to carry out his plan, although he was loathe to think that his work would have to depend upon Imperial technology. He made the final connections, then without ceremony, hit the send button.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Gorren had a grin that threatened to drop the top of his head off his body. "I knew it," he said triumphantly. "I knew you would see the light, my friend. How many Imperial Toh-pahs did you have to kill to make your escape?"
"None," Sebastian said, getting out of the armor even while he accessed the computer terminal. "We're going to need passage..."
"Ah, the Jedi way," Gorren said with the same tone a man uses when trying to show he understands female hygiene issues.
"Jedi had nothing to do with it," Sebastian said, still looking over the screen. "I had help."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian was sitting on the edge of the cot in his cell, tossing his ring up in the air and catching it while he thought. He didn't have a lightsaber to tap it against, so he made due. His thoughts were bent on how he could try to resolve these problems. There were so many, it was difficult sorting out where to start. Clearing his name was important, but not necessarily the most important. Nom Anor, the Sith, Garak, they were all serious threats in their own way, and it was difficult to decide which would be the most important, yet practical, first choice. Still, he had his contacts, he could probably get a better feel once he was off Chandrilla, which was what it always returned to.
The door opened, and a stormtrooper let himself in. Sebastian stayed put, flipping his ring through the air and catching it casually, as if the trooper weren't even there. "Excuse me," the stormtrooper said.
"I'm a bit busy right now," Sebastian said moodily.
"You're about to be," the stormtrooper said, removing his helmet to reveal Volgo Terraine's face. Sebastian was so surprised he missed the ring as it fell.
"Kriff!" the Jedi cried as he dropped to the floor to find it.
"Do you mind if we get down to business?" Terraine asked as he continued stripping off the plastoid armor.
"I have to find it first!"
"It's just a ring," Terraine said. "Focus on what's important, please."
"It's important to me!" Sebastian said. "It's precious. Ah!" he said as he closed his fingers around it, then slid it on his finger. "You were saying?" he added as he sat down on his bunk.
"We're getting you out of here," Terraine said.
"Good, how are we going to do it?"
"One thing at a time," Terraine said. "You should leave the galaxy as quickly as possible; it's the safest option at this point. Let the heat die down and you can start looking into how to proceed. I'll find a way to contact you if necessary. Put this on."
"Any advice?" Sebastian asked as he started pulling on the stormtrooper armor.
"It's all in the datapad inside the armor," Terraine said. "But one thing that might interest you are a couple of leads we have on the alien, Kalib."
"The one who was caught trying to save me?"
"Yes. From what little I know, he was a bit of an information broker. He could probably help."
"I hope he's inclined to cooperate with me," Sebastian said.
"Well, whatever the case, I doubt he has any love for the Vong." He looked Sebastian over. "That looks fine. The datapad has a map of the route to Gorren's apartment; you'll want to memorize it."
"No problem," Sebastian said as he looked it over.
"Get your Klingon friend and get off the planet as quickly as possible without attracting any attention. Oh, and if anyone asks, you're on your way to the gladiatorial games."
"Got it," Sebastian said. "But how exactly am I going to get out of here?"
"Simple," Terraine said. Sebastian took a step back as Terraine's face melted. No, not melted, transformed, until he was looking at a copy of himself. "This will fool the guards," he said in a perfect imitation of Sebastian's voice.
"How the kriff did you do that?" Sebastian asked. "Are you a changeling? Why are you working for the Empire?"
"Let's just say that Sisko and I are very old friends," Terraine said. "But this isn't the time for questions, Sebastian."
--------------------------------------------------------------
"So the ISB is run by one of the Founders?" Gorren said with dismay. "I didn't think any were left."
"Neither did I." For a moment he had considered that the changeling might actually be impersonating Terraine to lead him into a trap, but he knew the Emperor's true identity. The number of people who did numbered less than a dozen, many of whom were dead. "It explains a few things though, like his animosity towards Garak for one. But let's stay focused on our job."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Jorri was unaware of Sebastian's escape, and unfortunately would have to be. Agents of the Vong had been watching her since her arrival, and Terraine had suspicions that they had bugged her quarters. After a couple days on the capital with nothing to think about but her husband and her baby, she decided to check in with her squadron.
"Everything's quiet," Capt. Relam, her wingman, remarked. His image was grainy, but considering it was being transmitted through the wormhole, that was expected. Years ago this would have required a serious bit of pull, but now it was practically routine.
"The Hirogen aren't putting up a fight?"
"Not since our last run-in," he said. "I think we might have scared some sense into them."
"I'm not sure they could be scared or develop sense," Jorri said.
"Well, whatever it is, it's-" his words were drowned out by a sudden scream."
"Jon? Jon what's happening?" She leapt back from the hologram. Obviously it couldn't do anything to her, but the sight of Jon transforming before her eyes was horrifying. What could be happening to him?
--------------------------------------------------------------
Across the Milky Way, the signal propagated from relay to relay, each one broadcasting Nom Anor's signal. It was, in and of itself, harmless, yet there was devastation in its wake all the same.
Ten years ago it had started with a single organism Anor had designed for infiltration. It overpowered its targets, absorbed them, and then released an exact copy. Even the memories were the same; you never even knew what had happened to you. And yet, when the circumstances were right, instinct took over, and you yourself passed it on to the next. One became two, two became four, again and again, inserting themselves into positions throughout the Empire high and low. Now there were billions of them, sleeper agents of Nom Anor.
And the signal just woke them up.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Oracle emerged from her laboratory. "It's time," she said.
Ben Skywalker was in the midst of working with the Mistral agents who had been on the list. He'd been impressed so far; it seemed that their command of the Force was already manifesting in their reflexes and combat techniques. The Oracle had done a good job in selecting them, but that didn't mean he was going to indulge her. "This had better be important, witch," he growled.
She pointed towards the third Mistral, the one who hadn't been on the list. "It is," she said. They watched as the woman collapsed and then began to transform. "Kill it," she said. "Kill it or Nom Anor will know everything about us."
Ben didn't need to be told; he'd faced one of those before, and he didn't like them very much. The affront also fueled his anger, made him stronger. He blasted the quivering form with force lightning, sending it bouncing across the floor into a wall. A tentacle lashed out of the center of its mass, but he held up his hand and it deflected away before it could reach him; he sliced it off with a casual swing of his blade as he closed in. It struggled to get away, but he held it in place with a gesture of his left hand, even while his right shut down his lightsaber and hung it on his belt. He pulled off a similar looking device, hit a button on the hilt, and caused the end to split open into five parts, each about the size of a commlink. There was a deeper hum as he flicked it on, and each produced a thinner lightsaber, angling off slightly from the handle to look like some kind of dangerous bouquet. He plunged them into the squirming mass, getting an inhuman shriek for his troubles, followed by a stomach-wrenching stench. Ben poured his power into the weapon, strengthening the blade while the creature’s tentacles gyrated feebly. Finally they collapsed as the creature began to dissolve.
"What are these things," he demanded as he turned back to the Oracle. He switched the weapon off and returned it to his belt.
"Tools of Nom Anor," she answered. "And of us, in time. But that doesn't mean we can allow them to run amongst us."
Ben nodded, then noted the expression of awe in the Mistral's faces. He gave a slight lopsided smile at the sight. Good... let their desire for power show them the path to the dark side. He pulled his lightsaber back out again with a flourish. "Let's get back to work."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The airvent was small without any kind of removable access, but that was more than enough for Terraine. Once he had given Sebastian what he felt was enough time, he creeped up the wall and into the vent. He slid through it cautiously, recalling all the security devices there to catch miniature robots and the like, dropping back out in the hallway before sliding into the garbage chute. It was a less than graceful exit, but it did the job. By the time the guard discovered Sebastian was missing, the Jedi was off the planet.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Securing passage was uneventful. Finding an inconspicuous disguise for Sebastian was uneventful. Leaving Chandrilla was uneventful. Of course, that meant that the trip couldn’t be uneventful; Sebastian knew enough of how the universe works to be sure of that.
There was the sound of weapons fire coming from the hall outside their quarters, and Sebastian could sense desperation in the minds of the crew. He couldn’t ignore this. Sebastian grabbed his lightsaber and headed for the door, but Gorren’s hand dropped on his shoulder like a vise. “Low profile, remember?” the Klingon warned him, holding out a blaster.
“No time for subtlety,” Sebastian replied, pulling out of his grip and heading for the door.
“Remember why you are escaping, my friend.”
Sebastian was just reaching for the door release, but froze. He was still for a moment, then the blaster flew out of Gorren’s grip; Sebastian caught it without looking. “Come on,” he said, putting away the saber and stabbing at the door control. The weapons fire was now much further up the hall, and the two raced after it. They rounded the corner and both drew to a halt.
The distorted, rolling creature filled the hallway; on the other side was the sound of blaster fire, a scream, and something like breaking bones, only wetter. A twisted head turned back towards Sebastian and Gorren, one eye the size of a fist, the other normal. Its face seemed to be half skull, half molten flesh. A growl issued from its throat, and a tentacle flew down the hall towards them, the two stepping aside in opposite directions as it passed in between them into the wall. “I’ve changed my mind,” Sebastian shouted, tossing the blaster back in Gorren’s direction even as he fished his lightsaber back out. Gorren was already firing with one hand, but snatched the blaster out of the air and began firing with that one as well. A tentacle knocked him into the wall, but the Klingon barely missed a beat, screaming like a berserker as he continued firing the blasters at the thing.
Sebastian lit the lightsaber and lopped a tentacle off, then a second. The creature’s torso opened and another tentacle emerged from inside. He sidestepped it while he swung, but another caught him and knocked his saber hand aside. The first wrapped around his neck and with a yank, pulled Sebastian’s head and shoulders into the gap before it bit down on him. Gorren called his name as Sebastian’s legs kicked frantically; he dropped the blasters and trying to yank him free. He had to drop back as Sebastian’s blade swung wild, then the legs stopped kicking. For a second the Klingon feared the worst, but then he saw the movements: quick, precise, controlled. He stabbed the blade into the mass and swung, tearing a huge gash in the creature. He repeated the gesture, until finally he was tossed back out against the opposite wall. Gorren scooped up his fallen blasters and fired madly into the beast, and within seconds it had collapsed. Gorren didn’t let up until the hallway was filled the stench of burned flesh. He went over to Sebastian’s side; the Jedi was bleeding and looked absolutely awful. “Are you all right?” Gorren asked quickly.
“No, but give me some time.” Gorren helped Sebastian to his feet.
“You took the fight out of him, my friend,” Gorren said with approval.
“That’s what happens when your food disagrees with you.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
Nom Anor's ship came out of hyperspace into the chaos of the Kolyet system. Ships were everywhere, most coming in, but a few trying to escape. It didn't matter; they were only buying a little bit of time. Nom Anor set his course for the planet and took time during the approach to watch the fruits of his labor. It seemed to be going even better than he'd hoped.
The shield around Kolyet was down now, and would remain down for some time. The knowledge stored in the planet’s vast archives would be invaluable to anyone who wanted to take over the galaxiesand that's why Nom Anor had made certain to infiltrate a sizeable percent of those in power here. In fact over one percent of the planet's entire population were agents of Nom Anor now; eventually that figure would become one hundred.
Nom Anor had heard of the Borg upon his arrival, and it had made the bile rise in his throat. That so many lived in fear of a group that had sullied their organic form with machinery was mystifying, but not nearly so much as their effectiveness. Nom Anor had lost one of his associates to them when they spread through the Republic. He hated what they were, but even he had to admire the idea of it: the many sharing minds, experiences, knowledge, to create the perfect thinking machine. And anything these people could do with their machinery, Nom Anor knew could be done better with Vong technology, if given the chance. And here was the arrival of the proof: billions of beings from throughout the galaxy, coming here to share their knowledge of the enemy. They would then link together into a single being, equipped with their experiences and the contents of the greatest collection of knowledge in the galaxy. And like all their creations, it would exist only to serve the Vong... specifically, Nom Anor.
In the chaos created by this sudden uprising, no one was able to stop his plan. By the time the Empire had pieced it together Kolyet had fallen completely under his control. Those who hadn't escaped were absorbed into the creature, adding their knowledge to it. The planetary shield was up long before the Imperials figured out what was going on, and by then all effort was being directed towards restoring order. And Nom Anor watched it all from Kolyet, the only living being not part of their biomass. The effort to splinter the Empire had already begun... Nom Anor knew it would be finished here.
[End Act I]
"Sir," the trooper finally said.
"I am busy," the guard growled.
"Sir, I need to deliver this message," the stormtrooper said. "And I have a ticket for the gladiatorial games in less than an hour."
The guard looked up, suspicion on his face. "You're not being reassigned?"
"No sir. I have a message from Volgo Terraine for the prisoner, Sebastian Skywalker." The stormtrooper handed over the orders, causing the guard to bristle slightly. One of those damn ISB cover jobs, which required him to turn off the sensors in the cell for "privacy," which usually meant some heavy persuasion. That didn't seem likely under the circumstances, however, but there was nothing he could do about it. Every order was checked against the sensor logs, and if he violated it he'd wind up in one of their holding cells under going very heavy persuasion. He checked the cell one last time to verify the prisoner was still in there, then deactivated the sensors.
Twenty minutes later the chime rang for the cell. The guard switched the sensors back on and saw the trooper ready to exit, the prisoner lying on the bunk. The guard tapped his lips a moment, then gestured for two stormtroopers to join him as he walked down the cell block. He entered the code and opened the door, the trooper inside waiting with the patience of a stormtrooper. "Prisoner," the guard called, "stand up." The two flanking stormtroopers held their weapons at the ready.
Sebastian rolled over on the bunk. "What?" he asked as he got to his feet. The guard frowned as he pulled out a scanner, but they confirmed this wasn't some illusion. He put it away with a huff, then gestured for the trooper to exit.
Once the trooper was out the guard sealed the door. "Enjoy the race," he said as he led them back down the detention block.
"Thanks," the trooper replied. "But it's a gladiatorial match, not a race."
"Yes, of course," the guard replied shortly. He resumed his post, checking in on the prisoner, he seemed to be lying down again. The guard thought some more, then activated the comm. "Prisoner, stand up."
Sebastian rolled over. "I have a name, you know," he replied moodily, then got back to his feet. The guard ran another sensor sweep, but found nothing out of the ordinary.
"What did you two talk about?" the guard asked.
"I'm not at liberty to say," Sebastian said.
"The ISB give you a rough time?"
"I don't know what you mean. There is no ISB."
"Of course," the guard said. He hated this cloak and dagger poodoo; it made his life difficult.
The stormtrooper left the building and took a public transport to an apartment complex on the outskirts of the capital. His every step was exact, his choices made without hesitation or missteps. He flashed an ID to a protocol droid upon entry without missing a step as he headed for the turbolift. He exited and continued to the room without searching, as if he'd been there a thousand times and knew it by rote. He activated the chime; a Klingon answered.
"What do you want?" Gorren growled at him.
The stormtrooper removed his helmet. "I want my lightsaber back," Sebastian said.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Nom Anor finished connecting to the network relay, an overall unpleasant experience for him despite his time living amongst these technophiles. Still, this was the most effective way to carry out his plan, although he was loathe to think that his work would have to depend upon Imperial technology. He made the final connections, then without ceremony, hit the send button.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Gorren had a grin that threatened to drop the top of his head off his body. "I knew it," he said triumphantly. "I knew you would see the light, my friend. How many Imperial Toh-pahs did you have to kill to make your escape?"
"None," Sebastian said, getting out of the armor even while he accessed the computer terminal. "We're going to need passage..."
"Ah, the Jedi way," Gorren said with the same tone a man uses when trying to show he understands female hygiene issues.
"Jedi had nothing to do with it," Sebastian said, still looking over the screen. "I had help."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian was sitting on the edge of the cot in his cell, tossing his ring up in the air and catching it while he thought. He didn't have a lightsaber to tap it against, so he made due. His thoughts were bent on how he could try to resolve these problems. There were so many, it was difficult sorting out where to start. Clearing his name was important, but not necessarily the most important. Nom Anor, the Sith, Garak, they were all serious threats in their own way, and it was difficult to decide which would be the most important, yet practical, first choice. Still, he had his contacts, he could probably get a better feel once he was off Chandrilla, which was what it always returned to.
The door opened, and a stormtrooper let himself in. Sebastian stayed put, flipping his ring through the air and catching it casually, as if the trooper weren't even there. "Excuse me," the stormtrooper said.
"I'm a bit busy right now," Sebastian said moodily.
"You're about to be," the stormtrooper said, removing his helmet to reveal Volgo Terraine's face. Sebastian was so surprised he missed the ring as it fell.
"Kriff!" the Jedi cried as he dropped to the floor to find it.
"Do you mind if we get down to business?" Terraine asked as he continued stripping off the plastoid armor.
"I have to find it first!"
"It's just a ring," Terraine said. "Focus on what's important, please."
"It's important to me!" Sebastian said. "It's precious. Ah!" he said as he closed his fingers around it, then slid it on his finger. "You were saying?" he added as he sat down on his bunk.
"We're getting you out of here," Terraine said.
"Good, how are we going to do it?"
"One thing at a time," Terraine said. "You should leave the galaxy as quickly as possible; it's the safest option at this point. Let the heat die down and you can start looking into how to proceed. I'll find a way to contact you if necessary. Put this on."
"Any advice?" Sebastian asked as he started pulling on the stormtrooper armor.
"It's all in the datapad inside the armor," Terraine said. "But one thing that might interest you are a couple of leads we have on the alien, Kalib."
"The one who was caught trying to save me?"
"Yes. From what little I know, he was a bit of an information broker. He could probably help."
"I hope he's inclined to cooperate with me," Sebastian said.
"Well, whatever the case, I doubt he has any love for the Vong." He looked Sebastian over. "That looks fine. The datapad has a map of the route to Gorren's apartment; you'll want to memorize it."
"No problem," Sebastian said as he looked it over.
"Get your Klingon friend and get off the planet as quickly as possible without attracting any attention. Oh, and if anyone asks, you're on your way to the gladiatorial games."
"Got it," Sebastian said. "But how exactly am I going to get out of here?"
"Simple," Terraine said. Sebastian took a step back as Terraine's face melted. No, not melted, transformed, until he was looking at a copy of himself. "This will fool the guards," he said in a perfect imitation of Sebastian's voice.
"How the kriff did you do that?" Sebastian asked. "Are you a changeling? Why are you working for the Empire?"
"Let's just say that Sisko and I are very old friends," Terraine said. "But this isn't the time for questions, Sebastian."
--------------------------------------------------------------
"So the ISB is run by one of the Founders?" Gorren said with dismay. "I didn't think any were left."
"Neither did I." For a moment he had considered that the changeling might actually be impersonating Terraine to lead him into a trap, but he knew the Emperor's true identity. The number of people who did numbered less than a dozen, many of whom were dead. "It explains a few things though, like his animosity towards Garak for one. But let's stay focused on our job."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Jorri was unaware of Sebastian's escape, and unfortunately would have to be. Agents of the Vong had been watching her since her arrival, and Terraine had suspicions that they had bugged her quarters. After a couple days on the capital with nothing to think about but her husband and her baby, she decided to check in with her squadron.
"Everything's quiet," Capt. Relam, her wingman, remarked. His image was grainy, but considering it was being transmitted through the wormhole, that was expected. Years ago this would have required a serious bit of pull, but now it was practically routine.
"The Hirogen aren't putting up a fight?"
"Not since our last run-in," he said. "I think we might have scared some sense into them."
"I'm not sure they could be scared or develop sense," Jorri said.
"Well, whatever it is, it's-" his words were drowned out by a sudden scream."
"Jon? Jon what's happening?" She leapt back from the hologram. Obviously it couldn't do anything to her, but the sight of Jon transforming before her eyes was horrifying. What could be happening to him?
--------------------------------------------------------------
Across the Milky Way, the signal propagated from relay to relay, each one broadcasting Nom Anor's signal. It was, in and of itself, harmless, yet there was devastation in its wake all the same.
Ten years ago it had started with a single organism Anor had designed for infiltration. It overpowered its targets, absorbed them, and then released an exact copy. Even the memories were the same; you never even knew what had happened to you. And yet, when the circumstances were right, instinct took over, and you yourself passed it on to the next. One became two, two became four, again and again, inserting themselves into positions throughout the Empire high and low. Now there were billions of them, sleeper agents of Nom Anor.
And the signal just woke them up.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Oracle emerged from her laboratory. "It's time," she said.
Ben Skywalker was in the midst of working with the Mistral agents who had been on the list. He'd been impressed so far; it seemed that their command of the Force was already manifesting in their reflexes and combat techniques. The Oracle had done a good job in selecting them, but that didn't mean he was going to indulge her. "This had better be important, witch," he growled.
She pointed towards the third Mistral, the one who hadn't been on the list. "It is," she said. They watched as the woman collapsed and then began to transform. "Kill it," she said. "Kill it or Nom Anor will know everything about us."
Ben didn't need to be told; he'd faced one of those before, and he didn't like them very much. The affront also fueled his anger, made him stronger. He blasted the quivering form with force lightning, sending it bouncing across the floor into a wall. A tentacle lashed out of the center of its mass, but he held up his hand and it deflected away before it could reach him; he sliced it off with a casual swing of his blade as he closed in. It struggled to get away, but he held it in place with a gesture of his left hand, even while his right shut down his lightsaber and hung it on his belt. He pulled off a similar looking device, hit a button on the hilt, and caused the end to split open into five parts, each about the size of a commlink. There was a deeper hum as he flicked it on, and each produced a thinner lightsaber, angling off slightly from the handle to look like some kind of dangerous bouquet. He plunged them into the squirming mass, getting an inhuman shriek for his troubles, followed by a stomach-wrenching stench. Ben poured his power into the weapon, strengthening the blade while the creature’s tentacles gyrated feebly. Finally they collapsed as the creature began to dissolve.
"What are these things," he demanded as he turned back to the Oracle. He switched the weapon off and returned it to his belt.
"Tools of Nom Anor," she answered. "And of us, in time. But that doesn't mean we can allow them to run amongst us."
Ben nodded, then noted the expression of awe in the Mistral's faces. He gave a slight lopsided smile at the sight. Good... let their desire for power show them the path to the dark side. He pulled his lightsaber back out again with a flourish. "Let's get back to work."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The airvent was small without any kind of removable access, but that was more than enough for Terraine. Once he had given Sebastian what he felt was enough time, he creeped up the wall and into the vent. He slid through it cautiously, recalling all the security devices there to catch miniature robots and the like, dropping back out in the hallway before sliding into the garbage chute. It was a less than graceful exit, but it did the job. By the time the guard discovered Sebastian was missing, the Jedi was off the planet.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Securing passage was uneventful. Finding an inconspicuous disguise for Sebastian was uneventful. Leaving Chandrilla was uneventful. Of course, that meant that the trip couldn’t be uneventful; Sebastian knew enough of how the universe works to be sure of that.
There was the sound of weapons fire coming from the hall outside their quarters, and Sebastian could sense desperation in the minds of the crew. He couldn’t ignore this. Sebastian grabbed his lightsaber and headed for the door, but Gorren’s hand dropped on his shoulder like a vise. “Low profile, remember?” the Klingon warned him, holding out a blaster.
“No time for subtlety,” Sebastian replied, pulling out of his grip and heading for the door.
“Remember why you are escaping, my friend.”
Sebastian was just reaching for the door release, but froze. He was still for a moment, then the blaster flew out of Gorren’s grip; Sebastian caught it without looking. “Come on,” he said, putting away the saber and stabbing at the door control. The weapons fire was now much further up the hall, and the two raced after it. They rounded the corner and both drew to a halt.
The distorted, rolling creature filled the hallway; on the other side was the sound of blaster fire, a scream, and something like breaking bones, only wetter. A twisted head turned back towards Sebastian and Gorren, one eye the size of a fist, the other normal. Its face seemed to be half skull, half molten flesh. A growl issued from its throat, and a tentacle flew down the hall towards them, the two stepping aside in opposite directions as it passed in between them into the wall. “I’ve changed my mind,” Sebastian shouted, tossing the blaster back in Gorren’s direction even as he fished his lightsaber back out. Gorren was already firing with one hand, but snatched the blaster out of the air and began firing with that one as well. A tentacle knocked him into the wall, but the Klingon barely missed a beat, screaming like a berserker as he continued firing the blasters at the thing.
Sebastian lit the lightsaber and lopped a tentacle off, then a second. The creature’s torso opened and another tentacle emerged from inside. He sidestepped it while he swung, but another caught him and knocked his saber hand aside. The first wrapped around his neck and with a yank, pulled Sebastian’s head and shoulders into the gap before it bit down on him. Gorren called his name as Sebastian’s legs kicked frantically; he dropped the blasters and trying to yank him free. He had to drop back as Sebastian’s blade swung wild, then the legs stopped kicking. For a second the Klingon feared the worst, but then he saw the movements: quick, precise, controlled. He stabbed the blade into the mass and swung, tearing a huge gash in the creature. He repeated the gesture, until finally he was tossed back out against the opposite wall. Gorren scooped up his fallen blasters and fired madly into the beast, and within seconds it had collapsed. Gorren didn’t let up until the hallway was filled the stench of burned flesh. He went over to Sebastian’s side; the Jedi was bleeding and looked absolutely awful. “Are you all right?” Gorren asked quickly.
“No, but give me some time.” Gorren helped Sebastian to his feet.
“You took the fight out of him, my friend,” Gorren said with approval.
“That’s what happens when your food disagrees with you.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
Nom Anor's ship came out of hyperspace into the chaos of the Kolyet system. Ships were everywhere, most coming in, but a few trying to escape. It didn't matter; they were only buying a little bit of time. Nom Anor set his course for the planet and took time during the approach to watch the fruits of his labor. It seemed to be going even better than he'd hoped.
The shield around Kolyet was down now, and would remain down for some time. The knowledge stored in the planet’s vast archives would be invaluable to anyone who wanted to take over the galaxiesand that's why Nom Anor had made certain to infiltrate a sizeable percent of those in power here. In fact over one percent of the planet's entire population were agents of Nom Anor now; eventually that figure would become one hundred.
Nom Anor had heard of the Borg upon his arrival, and it had made the bile rise in his throat. That so many lived in fear of a group that had sullied their organic form with machinery was mystifying, but not nearly so much as their effectiveness. Nom Anor had lost one of his associates to them when they spread through the Republic. He hated what they were, but even he had to admire the idea of it: the many sharing minds, experiences, knowledge, to create the perfect thinking machine. And anything these people could do with their machinery, Nom Anor knew could be done better with Vong technology, if given the chance. And here was the arrival of the proof: billions of beings from throughout the galaxy, coming here to share their knowledge of the enemy. They would then link together into a single being, equipped with their experiences and the contents of the greatest collection of knowledge in the galaxy. And like all their creations, it would exist only to serve the Vong... specifically, Nom Anor.
In the chaos created by this sudden uprising, no one was able to stop his plan. By the time the Empire had pieced it together Kolyet had fallen completely under his control. Those who hadn't escaped were absorbed into the creature, adding their knowledge to it. The planetary shield was up long before the Imperials figured out what was going on, and by then all effort was being directed towards restoring order. And Nom Anor watched it all from Kolyet, the only living being not part of their biomass. The effort to splinter the Empire had already begun... Nom Anor knew it would be finished here.
[End Act I]