Disclaimer: Violence contained in here...you
don't like it, don't read it...etc..
The large
boisterous drunkard stumbled from the tavern and into the
alleyway parallel to the establishment, a large bottle of
not-so-fine ale clutched in one large meaty paw. A swig of
ale caused droplets of the liquid to run through the
buffoon's shaggy beard as he stumbled his way down the
alley, quite obviously in a stupor.
A lone
figure watched this overbearing imbecile make his way
down the ale, covered by the darkness that blanketed
the sky. Below him a grunt escaped the fellow that
made his way through the venue of transportation as he
tripped over something that he hadn't seen in his rather
'distracted' state.
Lightly, he slowly slid down from
the roof he occupied, plummeting down the ten feet
separating him and his target. A mild sigh escaped clenched
lips as he stalked between the few feet separating him
and his target, stepping over the silent obstruction
the drunkard had hit, he closed the distance
silently.
A hand darted around the side of the
unfortunate man's head and planted itself over the mouth,
clenching the nose shut between thumb and index finger.
Shutting off the reflexive cry for help, the lone sentinel
drug the man backwards, opening his mouth and exposing
a fair of deadly fangs that plunged themselves into
the exposed neck.
Bloods was steadily removed
from the victim's body as he felt the man he held in
his grasp slowly and slowly go limp. With a slurp he
drew his mouth back, lapping the excess blood from his
chin he slammed the man into the wall and darted his
hand into the man's neck, digging fingernails into
flesh until it broke and he successfully ripped the
man's upper esophagus, larynx, and jugular vein into
the air, neatly casting them to the floor of the
alleyway.
The man was now certainly not going to be
doing anything, and as blood shot from the gaping wound
in the throat he gently lapped at it, he aimed a
heavy booted kick into the man's ribcage, again and
again he heard the rewarding bone sickening crunch as
ribs were destroyed. After several minutes of a good
beating he dug his hand into the battered chest and
ripped off the flesh coverings.
Bare hands
gently removed the intestines from their resting place
among blood and gore, and guided the long organ around
the dead man's neck, using his own teeth he bit off
the intestine cord when he had enough, and with a
smile drug the man to the entrance to the
alley.
Finding an extrusion in the building that would support
the fop's weight, he looped the intestine around the
thing he had chosen and pulled it taut, tying it tight
he retreated back into the darkness, leaving the man
hung around the neck with his own vital organs.
Upon daybreak, a report was filed at the local
law enforcement agency of a strange and mysterious
murder of a local bum in the outskirts of the capital
city of Hapes. An investigation team was quick to
arrive to the murder scene that had already been
cordened off from the rest of the City, as to preserve the
crime scene evidence -- and to keep the public at
bay.
The Investigators were quite peturbed and curious
about how the crime scene had a two-block radius of
no-habitation, residents in the area were asked to leave until
further notice, but were not told of the nature of the
incident.
Upon viewing of the victim, the senior investigator on
scene had remembered to forward odd incidents -- such
as this -- to the local TSB/TF agent.
"Vicky,
get a hold of Director Raymond Drylight, I have
something I believe he should see for himself. Tell him to
come to this location."
"Right, and sir? What
should I tell the Director?"
"That it's urgent."
It was early. Too early. The sun was just
rising.
Ray looked out the viewport of his hired AirTaxi. As
it swooped through traffic, toward a slummier part
of the City, Ray reviewed the message.
It was
sent to him by a Vicky Mayanor from the local police
force. They were investing a strange murder of a bum
near the City outskirts. The investigators had never
seen anything like it before, and had called upon
himself, as they were to do. They sectioned off the area,
and told some people to leave.
Then the Taxi
landed.
Ray exited the craft looking ahead, towards the
scene. He wasn't exactly dressed appropriatley, but they
had woken him up with what they called urgent. He did
have his shades on though.
When he saw the dead
man, with the two disctinct bite marks on the mans'
neck, and the manner in which he had been handled, he
removed his sunglasses, and looked up at the Captain in
charge; a distinguished Tunroth.
"Sir, are aware
of what kind of creature does this?" Ray
asked.
The Cpt. looked down, bunched up his face, and looked
back up. "No, Mr. Director, I have no
idea."
Ray looked at him sharply, and with a tone of
assurance, said, "Exactly what I want to hear."
He
then turned to face the rest of the Investigation
team. "I am assuming supreme jurisdiction in this case.
Nothing happens unless it passes by me. No exceptions. I
am going to contact my superiors, and have them
check this out. Quarrantine the area, and have anyone
who isn't /vital/ to this investigation
relieved."
With that, Ray opened a comm to Marc's personal
unit.
"Hey, pal, you might want to meet me at this crime
scene. I don't think you Amonites are alone anymore."Marc had initially ignored his comm unit,
thinking that it was just another minor problem, such as
one of the fighter pilots were having fun in a
"borrowed" Miy'til fighter from the surface...
"Hey,
Pal" he had heard Ray's voice, despite it was his
longtime friend and partner, he still decided to ignore
it.
"Why is he up so slaggin' early," Marc thought to
himself, "Shouldn't he be recovering from a hangover?" He
then atttempted to get back to seat.
Then it
caught him, "You might want to meet me at this crime
scene. I don't think you Amonites are alone
anymore."
Immediately, Marc sprung up out of his bed to get the comm,
but he heard the click of a hang-up. "Right, I'll be
down."
He then got dressed in his normal attire, "Shirly,
get me Director Drylight's location, forward it to a
shuttle and get it fired up."
"Aye aye,
sir."
Marc then walked across the hallway, and overrode the
security on the door with his clearances, stepped in and
waited for the door to seal behind him. "Luke, wake
up... we've got a situation on Hapes. We're not the
only Ones here."
Crimson eyes glowing within the darkness greeted
Marc's words. Silence escaped backas the soft scraping
of metal under fine linen escaped only to the senses
like theirs. The silver glint of a mechanical hand
disappearing from the darkness as words finally whispered
forth softly.
"I know."
Nothing more
escaped his lips as he walked past his friend, eyes
burning crimson. Only then, when Luke had passed Marc did
the other look down upon the floor to see faint
droplets of scarlet coating the floor. With a single cant
of a black eyebrow, Marc turned and followed after
Luke. Whatever it was that was going on, he wasn't
about to ask.
They both got to the prepped and
ready shuttle, silent. Within twenties minutes, both
Directors were on the ground, reaching the 'scene'. Ray was
already there, looking things over. He had seen the body,
but Luke and Marc had not. The blood had stopped
drpping when both Luke and Marc had shown up.
The
smell of dried blood, ripped and flayed flesh, the
scent of Death...it was all in the air, and when both
came across the body, eyes looking it over. Marc was
silent for the moment...Luke however...
Luke just
laughed.
Marc looked around for a moment, "Interesting."
he muttered softly as he looked at the body, hung up
by his own intestines. "Interesting indeed." He
turned away to let Luke do as he wished and went over to
talk with Ray about the entire situation. Things were
getting weirder and weirder on this planet.
Luke
stared at the body for a moment, his laughter fading as
he moved closer, kneeling down and letting his
finger come dangerously close to the dried blood. "He's
close..." he whispered deadly soft once again as his eyes
shifted off to the sides and a faint smell over took his
senses. Words echoed in his mind over and
over...
Kill it...
DESTROY IT...
Thank
him...
Interesting artwork...
Four of the many Luke caught as
he narrowed his eyes. "Come out childe, you can't
hide all day, if you make me find you...I will hurt
you." the words whispered past his lips in the strange
Sith-Eroican language they all spoke. "Come out and play with
us..."
The words were hissed softly, as was the faint little
drop of blood falling down to the ground, splashing
forth upon the dried blood of the dead drunkard. A
little rippling effect. One sole drop...then
another...
Drip...drip...drip...drip...
Time
passed...
Then Luke's senses flared and he
moved off, follwing the young one. He wasn't about to
come out and play...so Luke would force him out...
He stalked silently through the street, his
somewhat feral instincts guiding him in a slow looping
path through the slums he preyed upon back to the
place he had gutted that insolent lowlife a night ago.
He knew he was being chased, and he knew that they
would find him, what would happen then, he didn’t
know.
But he did know one thing
People would
die
As much as he was slightly fearful of these new
arrivals hunting him, he was yet intrigued at the same
time. Whoever they were, his instincts were telling him
to go back to where he had sloppily gutted that
fellow and face these…dangers.
The sun was
annoying at least, the reason he was sticking to the
shadows. He paused a moment, as a pair of Hapans passed by
him, in security uniforms and he realized he had
unwittingly walked right back to were he had slaughtered the
fool.
He snarled and leapt up a drain pipe to the roof of
a building, scowling at the sun as he felt it’s
rays slowly ebbing away at his strength, and his hand
curled around the butt of his Flechette Pistol as he
slowly made his way across it, pausing at it’s edge and
peering over the side.
Hapans everywhere,
obviously investigating his ‘crime’, as they called it. And
of course, the nagging persistence at the back of
his mind…
…Yes, this presence was indeed
close.
He stood there on the complete opposite side of
the building, watching carefully as the other peered
over the edge. This was indeed interesting. Crimson
eyes stared silently as movement was made but
silently. This one was so young...so...seemingly innocent.
So perfect to be molded for his needs.
For
the moment, the cloak protected Luke from the harmful
sun. Indeed it was to early in the morning, but for
one that hardly ever slept? Time was pointless. Words
silently echoed from his mind, telling his companion,
Marc, to look up, to the building slowly. All the while
Luke himself moved forward, silently.
Then, he
stopped at two feet from behind the other. Still silent
as he looked down. Perhaps a second had passed since
the other had looked over the edge
now.
Clap...clap...clap.
The sound of laughter and appluase
escaped into the
air as Luke tilted his head to the right ever so
gently, eyeing the weaponry that he had used while
laughing and clapping. Then words proecceded to escape
past fine red lips, away from the pallid white
flesh.
"A fine display."
The words were soft-spoken,
gentle in the morning breeze that swept up Luke's black
cloak, moving it softly.
"A fine display
indeed..."
Wedge slowly leaned his head back as
he stood, his hand involuntarily detaching itself
from the flechette pistol in his hands...yes, this was
the presence. Interesting...they were one in the
same, apparently the same beings drawn across the
cosmos...perhaps...perhaps this was the reason he was at Hapes?"
Knuckles cracked as
the two stood facing each other, black cloaks moving
ominously in the shy wind that coated this fine
morning.
"A Fine meal too..."
Words escaped from lips
that were painted black, parting ever so slightly to
make their way into the air. Eyes narrowed clenching
orbs between pale flesh, he strangely no longer felt
fear, almost as if he was....home?
Before their eyes was a white flash...a flash of
everything.
A flash of nothing.
Slowly, within a blur of
movement. Pale fingers slowly curled together around black
and soft fabric. Slowly and surely, blonde hair,
shortened with a few streaks of, barely noticed within his
hair.
Memories had floated up as Wedge had turned and looked at
him. The barest curves of an old smile came across his
lips. With an ever-so-slight cant of his head, while
soft and pale blue eyes scanned up and
down.
"You've changed since I last saw you Wedge."
The
voice came across soft and smoothly as he took another
step forward, slowly however, just in case this man
wasn't exactly like the friend he once knew. Wedge just
smirked slightly back at Luke.
"Luke...indeed it
has been a long time." Wedge's voice was almost as
soft, a bit less refined and controlled as Luke, that
was a given. "You went and disappeared a few months
before I did, din't you?"
"Yes, I did." he
muttered softly, holding out his true hand. "Can tell, I'm
not much of a Jedi Knight...or even close to a Master
of that regard."
Wedge smiled somewhat at
that and took Luke's hand and shook it gently, "Way to
long." That Corellian grin rose to his lips, "...like my
artwork, I see."
"Yes, very...interesting." Luke
responded and laughed again.
The past was catching
up with him now. It had been a long time since he
had seen Wedge...way to long. And now, to see his
friend like this? Things were indeed looking rather
interesting...
The Past was Imperitive...
The past was indeed different than this new
future they lived. They had both found...sanctity?
Perhaps sanity? He doubted both of those as answers.
Wedge's black painted lips pursed themselves.
Luke
had been so...boyish, perhaps was the word the last
time he had seen his friend. On Endor...
Yes, he
had been different back then.
They had all
changed, everyone of them. Time itself had massacred their
forms.
Lips unpursed themselves and words
finally escaped the confines of fleshed and tossed
themselves into the morning air.
"Of course it was
interesting..have you ever seen that before?" he chuckled and then
he paused as these words sprung, and paused,
thinking before he spoke next.
Words echoed
themselves inside his mind. Luke, Wedge. They had both been
so eager once, so naive. Pilots eager to make their
mark, perhaps? No...they had each their own purpouses
for doing what they had done.
Perhaps that
was the reason they had ended up like this...no...No.
It was different, and the answer he Didn't
Know.
"When did we change...?"
"When did we change?"
The words echoed
into his mind softly, slowly...
When? When,
yes, when? All to long ago. Heroes were everywhere,
the villians were gone.
"When did we
change?"
Into the bleaness of the mind so old did these words
roam with a stinging bite. A pain so
severe...
Did we? Yes, all to easily. Like pawns falling to the
wrath of a Queen. Left, right and center, the heroes
died off, fading from the light and into the darkness.
Not many existed in this day and age. A Hero? That
was a fallacy...there are no Heroes no
more.
"When did we change...?"
The words repeated off
of his own lips as stream-lined eyes slowly lifted
from darkness to the pallid flesh of the nearest
proximity.
Change? Yes, that dreadful and chilling word.
Changed...we changed to long ago. We changed from being the
Heroes...protecting those dear. All that to this, to scum. To
parasites. To what they now called existance and what they
enjoyed to an extent.
Soft liquid blue eyes looked
up silently. Eyes of rememberance as the words
passed upon his lips once again, this time, however,
they uttered not a sound. The words were lost within
his mind. Their mind. Our mind.
Then crimson
filtered forth as he looked away and towards his dear
friend. Silent and staring...
Marc had landed from his light jump, his eyes
locking for but a moment with Luke's. He was about five
meters behind Wedge, his landing went unheard except to
the highly adept ears of other Amonites. "What should
be asked, General Wedge Antilles... is why you're
not with Rogue Squadron, and why you're here, AWOL,
on the planet Hapes."
The youngest of the
three, he walked foward, to the left and inbetween both
Luke and Wedge, "But as for your question. 'When did
we change?'"
He paused, looking towards the
rising sun, despising the brightness of it so, then
looking back to Wedge, "We were changed the second we
were Turned... The second whichever Amonite sunk their
thirsty, yet infidelic canines into our flesh, sucked our
body's dry of blood, and Turned us. This is the moment
we ceased to be who we previously
were."
"Say... I used to be the head of the Intelligence group
that brought down the galaxy's largest Empire," He
suddenly looked at Wedge, a feral look on his face, "But
now look at me. I'm the Director of the present Trade
Federation, tied for the most powerful being in the Galaxy,
and constantly thirsting for blood." The grin
suddenly faded from his expression, it growing sober
instantly.
"But just because we are what we are, this does not
mean that we can't pretend to be who we once were."
Well, at about this time Ray was wrapping up his
explanation of how and why the two Directors had leaped onto
a building-top. "...and it's because of the current
orbital pattern of the planet that these Paleomagnetic
waves reoccured, and in that slight moment gravity
could be manipulated. The Directors knew of this and,
um, fell in pursuit of a suspect."
A few of
the investigative team had blank stares on their
face, but, for the most part, they soaked it all up as
truth.
Ray thought to himself, 'Ray, you magnificent
bastard!' He then had the team conclude its investigation,
proclaiming that his people would finish up.
As the
Hapan team walked off, they were stopped by a man in a
suit, bearing TSB/SD markings, with black sunglases on.
He raised a small metal cylinder, pushed a small
button after correcting the settings, and a red flash
occured. He gave the team a new memory of the
investigation, and both parties parted the scene.
Raymond Drylight himself entered the
empty building Marc and Luke had ascended. He was
curious as to who it was they were talking to.
Wedge looked at Marc and gently cocked his head
to one side, pursing his lips and blowing out a
breath.
"Why...I am here, is..of no consequence..."
Words
sprung from their interior prison and off black painted
lips and into the air as he paused, looking at Luke
for a moment and then slowly back to Marc, then to
space, fixating his eyes on that
spot.
"Perhaps...our change was not important? Perhaps we never...did
change? Maybe the fact of the matter is that...the galaxy
changed?"
Yes..perhaps that was it. It was a new galaxy out there, out
in the void.
There were no heroes anymore,
it was a world filled with evil and corruption.
No...perhaps they never did change, but the world changed
around them.
But...perhaps...they both changed.
Change...such a horrid and complex word. He didn't know, when
he came to think of it, what the galaxy, or he
himself had become.
He was a nomad now, a nomad of
the time streams. Or...not? A sigh escaped tightly
clasped lips and eyelids closed for a split second. He
turned to look at Luke and Marc again, and then,
nothing. Just the sky.
Words whispered into his mind. Those whispers
probed the voices interest. Piqued them into a quiet
frenzy as they caused his body to twitch ever-so-softly.
He stared for a moment as his body twitched once
again. Marc's eyes instantly shot to Luke. Narrowing
slightly, he did not move however.
The words in his
head, driving him slowly insane.
Slowly, Luke
sat down upon the roof, pushing the hood of his
cloak. As the sun smashed against his flesh, ebbing away
at his reserve of power, words leaked out of his
lips.
"Change comes with death...death comes with change." The
words hissed out in the Amonite language that only Marc
and Wedge would understand, but...then words leaked
from him that were in Basic.
"We're going back
today. Leaving the Hapan system. We're going...if you
two wish to remain, that is up to you."
Luke's
face slowly contourted as he twitched again, his eyes
crimson...but...so very dark...so very dark.
They were never
this dark before, as Luke stared down at the panels
that covered the roof. And then, darkness faded into
his vision. All anyone else saw was air after a
single and soft sucking noise was heard.
No one
heard the tears that came across Luke's eyes, dripping
blood down across the floor of his quarters in the
'Vette. No one knew the wiser about how Luke was slowly
losing control of himself. Only Marc.
Only then,
after he was alone did the blade come out slowly as the
marks were etched upon flesh. The sign of Death,
something he was going to inflict upon the Galaxy. Within
the tears of blood came laughter. Inaned laughter
that echoed in the sound-proof room. Until there was
nothing.
The only sound was the faint drip of blood...echoing
even louder with every single drop.
Wedge lowered his head at Luke's dissapearance.
It was almost saddening to see his friend like this,
however he hadn't felt anything like remorse or pity
since...change. Yes, change was a curse. A sigh escaped lips as
his face turned to Marc, his green eyes starting at
the other Amonite like a blaster
bolt.
"He's...different.."
Words echoed into the air, carefully
avoiding the word change as they chose their
existence.
He let his hands fall to his sides, another sigh
echoing across his lips.
"Give me something to do,
Director..."
A smirk etched it's way across is face. For lack of
a better word, he was drafting himself. He smirked
a bit, his fangs bearing themselves before he
brought them bac into his mouth and blew a breath out.
He looked up at the sky briefly, briefly glimpsing
Luke in his mind's eye. Not as he was now, as the
farmboy he had first seen in Yavin Base's briefing room.
Yes, they had changed too, but so had the galaxy.
Ray was ending his jog up the stairway. It was
longer than he thought. He reached the door and kicked
it open, and stopping his jog when he saw Luke and
Marc conferring with another dark, shady
figure.
Then, Ray noticed the fangs. The other figure let his
fangs show out as he sighed.
Ray started walking
towards the trio. "So, what's up?" He had a half grin,
half curious look to him.
He stopped about 3
feet away from them and thought, 'Well, what wonders
will a third one bring?'
He looked from one to
the other with his arms folded, calculating possible
answers.
Marc gave a sidelong glance at Ray, "Another
Amonite will bring us quite the brigade..." He then
looked directly at Wedge, "Well, there's an open space
on the shuttle... we need to get going pretty soon
anyways."
With a slight pause, he grinned, his face becomming
almost maniacal, giving glances to both of the men, "How
do you like your Jedi? Flame boiled and shattered
into minced-meat I hope..."
He then paused to
judge the reaction of both of them.
"Well,
either way, I feel like killing a certain person that
was responsible for us getting to Hapes all too
late." With that, he spun around, and walked towards the
flights of steps, since they were travelling with one
human.
"Oh, and Wedge?" He paused, turning to expose only one
half of his face. "Don't eat Director Drylight... he
doesn't tend to like it much. Just ask the aliens that
are the cause for his cybernetic arm..." His voice
trailed off as he meandered down the stairs.
He looked at Marc, adressing the
Jedi question about his apetities as he followed the
other Amonite down the steps, though it would have been
easier to jump, he pulled the hood of his cloak back
over his face, plunging features back into blessed
darkness.
"I enjoy the fileted, eviscerated, gutted, Drawn and
Quartered" he replied, the smirk evident on his face at that
very jolly thought. He also snickered a bit as Marc
made the second statement, turning a bit to look at
Ray.
"Don't worry...he looks dreadfully sour
anyway, and durasteel probably tastes horrible.." he
sneered, face contorting to make the sound as it escaped
from his lips he paused one last time to look up,
whispering softly.
"Luke...good luck..."
His
head tilted back downwards to the ground as he paced
off after Marc.
