chroniclerofthedeep-blog

[chroniclerofthedeep-blog]

Chronicles of Aloria: It Walks Away - MassiveCraft Short Story

The heat was ever bearable as it began to hit Feroz’s face. Somewhere out there, he knew the cursed Songaskians worshipped it, turned towards its rising rays as one in prayer in temples from Korbamakora to any one of the western Pearl Cities. He had seen such rituals once, when he had been young in the Pearl City of Timbardena near the border of Hadravia. Such an alien place, of lightly armored but still menacing Rubah, scurrying and ragged Wolor but in the temples, some of the strangest of all. Holy men and women, dressed in thin robes to open themselves to the touch of the sun, decked in white tattoos along their faces and bodies openly cried out the lessons and power of the Sun to an enraptured audience.

But the Qadir no longer had such idealism, though many were forced to. All that was gone and now, they had the gears, the Soul and the rapid hands of the craftsmen. Feroz turned away from the rising sun and moved to step down the wall’s stone steps. Even at this early hour, the Hadritya had others awake. Two young apprentices moved toward the well and another carried a young, weakly clucking Common Farm Chicken back to the small earthwork enclosure that kept them next to the kitchen. Clearly it had managed to escape the pen somehow.

Feroz adjusted his latest creation, the masterfully designed trinary functioning wrist band he wore as self decoration above his right hand. Bronze and Copper on the surface mixed with lesser quantities of Brass, the inside of the band holding far greatly quantities along with a key to his room, a small set of clips and a “prier” though his assistant Aali compared it more to a small knife despite its generally blunt edges. He gave a sigh as he pondered the young man’s ultimate fate. His mind was turned toward weapons and always had been, the recent Bone Horror Crisis not helping this obsession. However, Feroz had to admit he had his doubts about his many scoldings. War was a constant in the world, especially within the last few decades. Perhaps Aali was right to turn his mind to such things.

First, the Slizzar and their Essan Empire in the south, then the Altalar in the west followed by...everywhere it seemed, when the Masaya engaged in war against Regalia. Never before had the Hadritya seen so much...activity. Business, deals, comings and goings, far more than even when the great sanctuary had been founded.

Now however, there had been a great quiet. Regalia had left Farah’deen to its own ends after shattering the Pearl Cities into luster dust and carved a knife inward before they left the young Massya to do the remainder of the fighting. But here in the north of the Masaya, none of that had touched them, isolated as always.

Feroz had chosen to settle here when he was a young man. He had never had the same desire to view the world as the other children but now, in his old age, he felt the little tick tick tick like a fingernail on glass, the tapping of his soul against some aged face.

However, he was too old to answer the tapping. 90 years of age, his birthday in a few days, he knew it would be impossible to fulfill. What caravan would convey such dead weight across the desert to one of the Pearl Cities, he knew his parents certainly wouldn’t have done it even if the possible passenger had been another Qadir.

“Lost in thought?” the female voice cut into his thoughts.

He turned his head to see Ghada walking next to him. Despite being of a different gender, their clothing was remarkably similar, simple brown and pale yellow patterned cloth arranged around their upper bodies. For him, his right shoulder and arm were uncovered while his left side was lightly protected by the fabric. He then wore simple dark brown pants below that and sandals. She herself wore her upper vestment in a similar way but with an added dress down to her ankles with her own sandals.

“Yes indeed Ghada...wondering what I should have the apprentices make me for my birthday meal.” It was a casual jest and she knew as much, but she also knew not to pry into his affairs. He was after all, older than her but only by about ten years. Still, age was respected here.

“Ah...will it be rice or rice? You know we don’t have much in the stores…”

“But I also know that Sardar’s caravan will be arriving sometime this week and I hold out hope it will be before my birthday.”

“Well, it is quite the longshot but to each fool his own fantasy.” she gave a faint smirk as she herself moved off to attend to her own duty that morning.

He turned back to his own path, his own duty. Communion with the Almuttaq. He walked past the first doorway and deeper inside, down a hallway and through another doorway. Standing at the end whired a Clocktik, holding the soul of a man now only known as Eru. He had been there even before Feroz had joined the Hadritya at twenty and and some said he had been here since the time of the Hadritya’s founding. Regardless of origin, he often took an evening watch guarding the Almuttaq and today was no exception as he stood before the mechanical door.

His form was old and inlaid with wood, a curious feature but one that spoke to his age. He did not say anything, there was no need to expend energy to confirm who Feroz was. He took a pivot to the right into one of the two alcoves that normally held the Human guards not yet awake. He was sufficient to protect the Almuttaq alone and so had no partner.

Feroz nodded to him and with a few flicks of switches on the wall, the square doorway opened and then closed behind him, a five second timer. Now within the sanctum, he turned to the right of the great display before him. Gilded in Brass, Bronze and small bits of other jewels and minerals was a beautiful panoramic of nature in a very Qadir style. If so wished, he could have made the display move like simple windup toys any decent clockwork engineer could produce. Beneath the panorama were tomes, the oldest and rarest in the Hadritya which were kept here for safety.

But Feroz had seen the sight nearly a hundred times already and was here for another purpose. He tweaked the Gargantuan Stoneback Phant’s tusk, then the Saruhannan Sand Ant’s pincer and finally the eye of the Givrais Thunder Bird, all now turned down toward the floor.

The metal surface opened up, the gear pattern turning slowly as it sunk downward with him standing still on top of it. It was not a long journey, a mere seven or eight feet downward before it reached the lowest level of the Hadritya. Feroz pressed forward down the hallway before him into the penultimate room, the inner sanctum.

It was stark and simple in its elegance. The carved walls vaulted up and narrow cuts in this high roof helped already present sunlight trickle in. Similar holes were cut into the walls, helping redirect light into the space no matter what time of day it was. Feroz then laid his gaze upon his prize, his reason for being here. The Almuttaq.

One day, he knew he would join this cubic meter of space in the bowels of the Hadritya. But not today. He walked forward and already, he heard the whirling as the machine began to open at his presence. The voice that wafted out was not one, but many. A chorus of a dozen people or more, all the masters from the past retained and kept alive in this small way, came out. What they had to say brought a look of concern to the elder’s face.

“It walks away.”

“It walks away from the land of parched throats.”

“It walks through the past.”

“It will not stop.”

“At least...not until it reaches its goal.”

[chroniclerofthedeep-blog]

Diverted to Ziost - Star Wars OC Fan Fiction

There was something here and perhaps...someone...but he could not be sure.

The Third Brother stopped his meditation from orbit, his yellowed eyes slowly opening as he peeled his red eyelids back. His thin blue-tipped head tendrils floated, unaffected by the sealed atmosphere of his small ship. He made a few taps on the console, closed his visor and started a descent toward the grey world’s surface.

He had been abruptly redirected here from his previous mission, in a transmission that was vaguely concerning to him. With the new knowledge granted to him by his position in this new world, he knew what Ziost was and even if he had not, a set of coordinates were with the message. The world had once been a jewel of the Outer Rim, as far as the term “jewel” could be applied to any planet in the Outer Rim. It had also been a significant world in the Sith Empire over a thousand years ago, but then, it had been abandoned much like Morraband. Even the Jedi had avoided this world, and while they often did that, the world was also bereft of all settlements or renewed interest in the centuries since then.

The Third Brother dismissed these thoughts from his mind. He was not here to question the nature of Ziost, though deep within it gnawed at him as what liable due to his natural curiosity. Just then, he burst through the cloud cover, and he was almost taken back by what he could see. He thought the grey on the surface might hide...something, that it was misted or altered from orbit by the heavy cloud cover. However, instead what gazed at him was a cold, ashen landscape.

It was not barren, however. As his vessel got closer and closer to the surface, the Inquisitor could see spindly black trees growing up from the pale earth with only a few leaves, as well as snow covering squat plants. No animals flew through the sky to greet him with hostility, nor even with interest, and as he approached his landing site, nothing moved on the ground beneath him. As he curved his vessel around the mountain ridge that blocked his path, he turned his gaze to the ruin before him.

It was a great ruin of stone, built into the mountain as well as along an entire plateau and perhaps even beyond though he could not tell if those blocks he saw were tumbled from the plateau top or represented some other structure. They were now squat but he guessed that at one time, they had towered for as he got closer, he could see an intact column well over ten feet tall piercing the sky that showed the height they clearly once possessed.

He brought the TIE Advanced v1 down toward a relatively open area, which he assumed had once been a square. He leaped out quickly from his cockpit and activated his probe droid, the small creature snapping its claws a few times as it gave a chitter examining its surroundings. Using the device on his wrist, he ordered it to scout as he moved cautiously to the nearest street of the ruin. Snow blanketed the ground in small drifts, and the walls were stained with patches of ice as well as the wear and tear of open snowfall.

The Third Brother knew his mission was to “investigate a disturbance on the western continent,” but he was well aware he could be in the wrong place. What had drawn him in, however, was the Dark Side. It had beckoned him to orbit and then, to come to this place and as he stood there, his boots making only the quietest scuff sounds on the road, the gravity of this realization hit him.

However, before he could be dragged into questioning the nature of this planet, his probe droid pinged him, and he drew up the vision of his ID9 seeker droid. It had located a ship, and he immediately leaped forward. He rushed past a crumbled statue and jumped a short wall on his way to the objective. His steps soon brought him to a cautious stop, but when his robotic companion joined him, he stepped out confidently.

It was a YT-2400 light freighter, a vessel commonly used by civilian elements the Third Brother immediately noted. As he walked closer, his hand slipped down away from the hilt of the lightsaber on his person as his visor scanned the vessel and the droid chattering in his ear confirmed it: the ship was empty. He brought his mechanical hand up to the hull of the vessel as he slowly walked around to the front of it. There were the pocket marks and scars of age yes, but also much more recent damage. Impacts not caused by laser blasts but seemingly solid objects given a particular dent he located on the underside as he moved around beneath the extended cockpit. As he rounded this corner, he came to a stop.

The ship’s ramp as down. His internal guess that this had been a crash was further disproven by the fact that the landing struts were also down and intact themselves, thus showing that the vessel had landed properly. Without much information to go on from the exterior, the Third Brother ignited one half of his dual blade and headed up the ramp slowly, followed by his faithful droid.

He immediately saw that it was a cargo vessel, with crates and boxes placed in and around the space, and not just in the cargo bay. It seemed that they or the lone captain had been hauling extra this trip before the landing on this inhospitable world. He moved deeper into the ship and came to the cockpit, ordering the seeker droid to begin combing the files. He meanwhile, moved onward to search the rest of the ship. He checked the crew quarters and found that two of the spaces were full of cargo, even more, evidence that this haul had been abnormally large. He also found emergency supplies, unopened and useful, in their proper place which further confused him. There had been no distress signal either, at least none that he could detect. What made a ship captain not set up a distress beacon, leave their ship open to the elements and fully stocked with useful supplies to keep them alive.

At that point, his seeker droid pinged him to return to the cockpit, and as his boots banged along the metal flooring, the feed inside the helmet was equally disconcerting. They had a damaged navicomputer, no small repair, and seemed to have taken damage in an asteroid storm, though perhaps they had been forced into an asteroid field thanks to some hostile element. As he entered the space, his droid gave a beep and displayed the last log he could locate.

The hologram that was projected showed a young human decked in what was reasonably standard Outer Rim civilian wear, simple long shirt, long pants, a vest or harness of some type though he had a set of goggles set on top of his head.

“This is Captain Kimler Antilles of the cargo freighter Endless Susprion. Me and my crew of three, plus our R4 astromech unit have been forced to land on this world. We were damaged in an asteroid storm in a nearby system…”

There was a break of static, and the Inquisitor looked down toward the droid in minor annoyance, but it warbled that the storage device was malfunctioning. The crackling stopped, and the male Mikkian looked back to the hologram.

“...but we should be able to fix those problems. However, the planet clearly has life.”

He cocked an unseen brow as the young man continued. “The signal we detected coming down to the planet is still fairly strong. I’d imagine it's from an archeology team or something, maybe not a very “official” one either but we’re prepared...all we want is to know what this place is really. It’s not even named on our chart, most of the worlds around here aren’t...a bit weird but in any case. We head for the signal at the mouth of the cave or whatever it is exactly against the mountain in ten minutes. Hopefully, they’ll be the friendly kind of unofficial archeology team.”

The Third Brother turned toward the droid and gesture with his hand, his own forceful accented voice stating directly “Droid, scan for any and all signals.” He allowed the irritation he felt to creep into that tone. It should have informed him a signal as they were landing.

It informed him vigorously, lowering its antennae that it still detected no signal of any sort, beyond the connection between itself and its master. The Inquisitor grew faintly cross. Clearly, this group was the cause of the disturbance...but there might be others, grave robbers or some low-level Sava digging on the planet. The Third Brother decided that surprise was the best option. He walked out of the ship and down the ramp before ordering the droid to attach to his back. After he felt it click in, he rolled his shoulders, grabbed his double-bladed lightsaber and lept into the air in a powerful jump.

From there, he lept on top of the ship and proceeded toward the nearby ruins which he too, used as a stepping stone to get higher into the frosty air. With one final grunt of exertion, he pushed off the top of a ruined column to ascend into the open air, the whole of the ruins spread out below him. Holding the blade above his head in his one real hand, he activated it and started up it's spinning. Like some crude vehicle of old, or older hover technology, he now hung in the air but slowly began to drift down toward the ground. He scanned the ground, seeking the mountain cave they had spoke of and soon found it. Hewn into the rock was a massive structure, pushed out from the smooth mountain face around it with a triangular doorway and several triangular openings which the Inquisitor assumed were windows.

He leaned and slowly dropped, headed for the largest of the windows, the cold air of the height biting at his blue-touched red tendrils waving back in the air behind his head. He soon reached this destination and rather than needlessly slice the stone, he deactivated the lightsaber and used the Force to yank himself into through the window. Instead of the plummet, he was expecting, his armor clacked against a stone railing of a walkway that sat along the wall. He vaguely cursed and waited for the expected “What was that” or any other sound but the only thing he could now hear was the wind outside, whistling.

He paused and turned to look down over the edge of the walkway, finding an open space below him with...sleeping bodies. They were taking a nap...a foolish mistake. The Inquisitor then hoisted himself over the railing, falling to the ground and even before he landed, he knew his assessment was wrong. Because he couldn’t sense them in the Force. Because they were dead.

He ignited his saber immediately, slowly approaching the corpses. The hall was mostly empty, with what seemed to be a holotable set back somewhat inside the central area. The walls were flanked by large imposing statues, and their faces were turned downward at 90-degree angles...Sith architecture. He stiffened and activated the second blade to his saber, giving it an idle twirl. The room was also dark, the weak light from the now setting sun outside giving as much as it could.

The bodies meanwhile, were strewn. One was mangled in a corner, the droid was torn open by the entryway, and a final one was leaned back against the table. Approaching it, the Mikkian saw that it was the captain and that there was a massive slash across his chest. There were supplies placed upon the table too, an open box of rations and a DL-18 blaster pistol on the table. Another such pistol lay on the floor by the hand of the dead captain.

The Third Brother was puzzled, but not flummoxed. Something had killed these people, and while the body count was not consistent with the crew of the ship, he had no doubt the predator had taken away those bodies it wished to eat. However, as his droid popped off his back at a signal, the reason for their presence here concerned him. There was still no signal...no message or transmitter on the ground nearby, only broken statues, what looked to be shattered pots and one badly rusted artwork. As for what lay deeper into the building...the Third Brother did not want to needlessly seek out conflict with dangerous wild animals in a dark enclosed space.

He turned to the console and with his droid, tried to get it working. The technology was...archaic. Well older than him, older than most things he had seen in service before. Finally, however, they got it working, and a message began to play immediately.

The figure was of a species the Mikkian did not recognize. Tall, with two small face tendrils and a bald head, it looked a fierce being. His clothing was dark colored, but the quality of the recording had degraded so severely that all he could make out was that it was layered and had what seemed to be a cape.

“This is Admin...Durnao...we are...ey have started something...we do not have a...no hope, ple...we serve t...admirably...this is one of the greatest worlds in t...ere is no...stoppi...send help…”

With that, the recording died, and seemingly for the last time as several sparks came off the console, and a dark thrum signaled what had to be the dying breath of a battery or power source. He turned to look to the captain as his seeker droid provided him the final piece of information needed.

“You came here responding to an ancient distress signal...so old that by the time you got here, it wasn’t even a distress signal, it was just a faint signature. You probably read it...maybe one of your men got too far away, and you offended something. It came here, killed you, smashed your droid...and ended the disturbance you had caused on this world...echoing back to my master..s.”

Just then, from within the dark, came a savage roaring howl. The Third Brother was not one to flee from a fight, but there was a balance on this planet. A delicate one likely. It was-

He swung his blade up, not even turning his head both his tendrils and his senses had aided him. He began a step to the left as his red blade flashed, his teeth gritted for a moment, but the danger was over. The tumbling rock was cut, harmlessly clattering onto the floor though one did clang hard onto the aged, now dead holoprojector. He stood there, moved away and came to the conclusion that there was nothing more to do.

The howl sounded again, but this time closer.

“Time to go.” the Inquisitor stated to his droid, the seeker droid giving a final chitter as it slipped back toward his back as he turned around. He gave himself a running start before he leaped up and away from building as soon as he cleared his entrance, headed back to his ship as the blade churned the air and helped him lightly aloft on his slow descend.

He was sure to be rewarded for this. While he had not killed them himself...no one need know that. That recording would also be of great interest to his masters, he was confident of it...the world of Ziost now had one in a thousand mysteries solved.

(Artwork of OC made by amazing artist Charles Tan - https://charlestan.tumblr.com/)

[chroniclerofthedeep-blog]

Noisy - A “Cradle” Story

“The fleets are too divided! We cannot bring them together in time to confront the Celestial Emperor!”

There was a tenseness in the room as the various delegates looked around at each other. Many were Elleg, tall and slender but were sharply contrasted by shorted species like the Ponn and N’vegra. All however, were hologram aside for one section, solely comprised of Ellegs and their commander.

“Minister Sharn, we know that! But we simply cannot risk bringing the fleet together so soon after Tanathis, we must preserve ourselves-”

“No, we must fight! Should the Emperor trigger this star, we will get another Spacial Void and this time, there will be no protecting ourselves from it.”

“That data is not-”

“Confirmed, yes Admiral, I know…” the Elleg replied bitterly as he gave an eug of disgust, turning down to look at the table. He then looked up, his face hard.

“But it IS true. This is not another lie, my information checks out, my information is sound and my information would save millions of lives!”

A softer female voice spoke from the left of the table. Tall and placid, the female Elleg spoke to the Ponnian across the table. “Admiral...please. It cannot be a trap, this I know for certain. My son is reckless as are his councillors. Tanathis saw them use the last of their Celestial Energy and they must recharge from this star. We must unite again and strike now.”

A silent filled the table though mutters from each collection of holographic delegates sounded in the busy bridge.

The Poonian male eventually turned back and said “...I have decided to bring my forces to meet with yours Sharn.”

There was a universal rumble around the table but seemingly even from the Admirals end which caused him to turn away and shout in his guttural native tongue to those who dissented against his decision.

“We will join as well!” came the high-pitched voices of the N’vegra.

Around the table, uncertain voices became solid pledges and Sharn felt the fans atop his head flutter with joy.

“You all know where I am. Be wary entering the Nebula but do not worry. There is plenty enough room for all of you.” the male nodded before he added. “May the stars bless your journey.”

[chroniclerofthedeep-blog]

Swift - A “Cradle” Story

Some context before the story: This work is part of my “Cradled” universe, but was actually created for Inktober 2017. Instead of drawing the words given, I decided to try and write them. I didn’t finish the challenge after this mainly because the storylines were never able to really stay focused but regardless, here it is.

He ran swiftly through the corn, he had to get away. The angry shouts followed after him and he glanced over his shoulder as he run. Suddenly, his booted foot caught on something in the mud and he was sent sprawling into a ditch. He started to stand up but instead pressed himself down against the wet earth as he squeezed his eyes shut, the noise getting louder.

“Where’d he go?”

“Earth’s sake, you lost him!”

“No I didn’t come on, he always heads to the same place!”

The voices continued on past and for once in a month, Daniel knew he wasn’t being beaten up after this Friday at school. He slowly raised his head up as he heard the voices fading and slowly rose as they vanished from his ringing ears.

He looked down at himself and gave an exasperated sigh, uselessly giving a few wipes at the mud on him and his clothing before he shook his head and went to pick up the bag. But next to that bag was a clean white strut. His eyes slowly traveled up the white strut to find it was connected to a clean white body and then, a black face with a simple blue circle.

“Hello young man.” the gentle male voice said, a smooth white arm going down to pick up the abandoned bag as Daniel jumped back.

There was an awkward silence as Daniel looked at the robot before and the robot looked back.

“Am I…scaring you?” it asked, reaching out with the bag-ladened hand.

Daniel quickly shook his head. “Naw…you ain’t. Just….never seen a bot before like you.” He slowly reached out a hand and took his bag back, moving to sling it over his shoulder.

“That would make sense, out here in Omana province. The furthest from New Heart and Artami province. Your people are farmers….I am not made for such work.”

It seemed so light-hearted but all Daniel could feel was a sense of awkwardness. It had no face, only a single, perfect blue circle set against a black screen.

“My lack of a face disturbs you.” it said. It quickly added after Daniel’s shocked face “I am programed to read faces and your eyes have been locked on my own face since we met.”

“Why didn’t they…you know. Give you two eyes.”

“I do not know why…but what I want to know is why those three boys were chasing you.”

“No reason.” Daniel gave a little huff and started to walk off.

“Wait, are you heading back into town.” the robot said as it shifted itself to face the retreating figure.

“No, I’m going home…” Daniel said as he started off.

“Oh, I see. Well, I wish you a good day then young man.”

With this intonement, the robot suddenly started walking off back where the group of boys had been coming from.

Daniel started moving off himself, pausing as he looked back before he gave a sigh and hurried after the robot.

“Hey, wait up!”

The robot paused and tilted itself back to watch him come running up along the path. “Have you decided to accompany me into town.”

Daniel shrugged as he started to push into the corn. “Hey, I couldn’t leave you alone out here to just go stumbling around…”

“I would not be stumbling, I have GPS and know exactly where town is…”

The two continued off into the corn.

“Hey, what are you even doin’ out here?” Daniel asked.

[chroniclerofthedeep-blog]

Discolored - A “Discolored” Story

Some context before the story: This world is one that I feel has a lot of impressive visuals to it, and I imagine the look of it more than the story which I freely admit is weak in its metaphors and the ideas presented, which are all clearly a product of the recent few years. As for the story, I created it around the parameters of a course I took my first term of university this year, that being a story shorter than 300 words that utilized setting as a major feature. That being said, here it is.

He moved along the sand-coated streets to the White home, seated at the end of the lane. The two suns of Chroma beat down on the back of his neck back despite the late hour, their rays peering at his black skin. He adjusted his collar and he muttered a prayer to the Purples.

He walked through the open entry gate to the White home and moved along the short path through the sand garden to the front door. His eyes roaming up the structure, built to withstand the storms of Chroma, a white knife driven up through the surrounding landscape. He turned away and looked back down the lane. From here, he gazed out at the whole White neighborhood, seated on the steady incline up the mountain. If he was like his son, he would joke that he could see his house from here. But the dark mass was three miles away and so dense that it would be impossible.

He walked past the two officers guarding the front door and removed his sunmask, his heart as cold as Chroma’s nights. White blood stained the high walls of the home, like the great pillars of white rock so common to the mountain. He moved deeper into the beige-walled space, seeing more such stains up the walls and along stained cool steel doors. He ultimately found himself standing in the circular family room, greeted by two White officials.

“Detective.” came the ever soft yet imposing voice of his superior, Chief Agamemnon. The man and woman next to him were elegant as all Whites were, each with platinum blonde hair.

“Chief…Other person.” the detective replied, nodding to each in turn.

“Crime Sub-Secretary Erato.” the woman offered as they all moved about the space, passing White art and furniture.

“There was a struggle and someone got a few good slashes in.” He said as he came to rest beneath the customary family portrait.

“Yes, and the bodies are being taken back to the station for examination.”

“Why am I here? Seems rather cut and dry.” the detective asked as he stepped away.

“The eldest daughter escaped.”

He froze and turned around, following their gazes out the open back door.

“She couldn’t have-”

“We first need you to go after her…but also, we need you to see this.”

He moved to follow them, down into a cool space clearly carved into the red rock of the mountain. The family shrine was nestled within, a purple ascension motif with white decoration in honor of the Purples lay against the wall. But it had been profaned. A handprint had pressed itself against the stone and the inky darkness had dribbled down the entire monument.

“Well?” came the probing reply from behind him, making him aware he was being keenly eyed by his two superiors.

“It’s…the sign of the Black Heart.”

“Yes.”

“…I’ll radio in once I find her.”

The suns hung high in the sky by the time he went into the sands.

[chroniclerofthedeep-blog]

No More Need of You - Star Wars OC Fan Fiction

“This infernal mob is just, disgusting, do they not know who they are threatening?!”

The Third Brother stood there, a dull look on his face as always as he listening to this idiotic man prattle on. Overseer Bergen Vaza, 46 years old and with a troubled record in the past but somehow, he was allowed up this far in the Imperial government on Crillmar. The force-adept considered how the other had gleaned this power. Blackmail? Treachery? All he knew for certain was that he had grown a bit podgy since the images the Brother had seen had been taken. Either that or he’d payed off a splicer to edit away his extra weight…

“You, Inquisitor, why haven’t you gone out there and put them in their place?!”

The Mikkian looked up to stare at the other in front of him who had turned his head to the right as he stood irate at his desk, face red. Several other Imperial officials stood or sat in the room while two stormtroopers stood by the exit door at the far end of the almost palatial quarters. The red skinned alien gave a subtle gesture of his head and his mask folded away as he took a few steps closer to the desk. He felt the uneasiness in the room heighten yet the Overseer still stood there, looking as whiny as ever.

“Because I am not here to deal with the miners Overseer, I am here to deal with their leader. This false Jedi or however he styles himself is locked deep in their stronghold, something you have failed to breach or even get close to for the past 12 rotations. I will not however, just barge in and kill the entire population of some 3000 miners who could be serving the Empire well. They are not though, because they are angry with how you have treated them. I will and am here to cut off the head of the serpent to help you then keep them in line. Is that understood.”

The icy silence that followed his crisp and curt retort to the older man with finally ended with a snort as the fat Imperial official took a seat in his chair, grunting with the exertion.

“Well…fine fine, get on with it. All my resources are at your disposal Inquisitor, but let me tell you, we’ve tried everything I could think of. Nothing has worked so far, so, I implore you to try to find a better way.” He waved a grubby, grasping hand to one of the officers in the room who quickly stood up and crisply gave a salute.

“Captain Dennels there will help you get to our Operations Center and help you out. He also does things with the stormtroopers and all that…”

“If you’ll follow me Inquisitor.” the man said to the Brother in a formal Core accent, leading him out of the room as the other officers followed them out of the room. The meeting was over and as they moved closer to the more public hallways, the Inquisitor closed his helm so again his eyes were met with the familiar red-tinged sight he had possessed these past 10 years or so.

When they arrived in the bustling room, they were greeted by the turning body of an auburn haired woman who gave them a tight smile before turning back away from them again. Her hair was held up in a bun while her outfit was like that of any other Imperial officer, and in this case had the minor differences of a captain on her badge.

“Who ar-”

The Third Brother cut in listlessly. “This is the captain who accompanied me on my journey, Besla Venow. She is merely here to ensure our ship is protected and the ships we have with us are used well in the upcoming operation. Can you please call a general meeting around the holotable of everyone that could be of use in this room.”

The raven haired man gave a quick nod and gestured at several people to approach, oddest of all a cadet with black markings and a black dot on his helmet.

“Why is this cadet here.” The Third Brother said, bristling a bit as his body turned to face the table, his head still trained on the child however.

“Well. Cadet Tamri here is actually a miner’s son. His father is one of the few who sees the benefit in Imperial work yet doesn’t have the clearance currently to enter our base. In any case, youths such as the cadet here seem to know places adults rarely do.”

The red-skinned alien nodded. “Mm, tis true, but in any case for now I need to be briefed more. I would hazard a guess that the foundry explosion and small attack I faced when I arrived was not the full brunt of the rebel miners or their forces.”

“Right you are sir.” A bushy-bearded face stepped closer to the table and changed its viewpoint from the main Imperial base to a region very close by, given how slowly the hologram panned over.

“Inquisitor, this is Commander Branson, he’s been here since year one of this planet’s Imperial presence.” Dennels said quietly as the cadet came to stand slightly behind him.

“Never seen an Inquisitor until now…you heh, make quite the impression.” he chuckled a bit before he refocused on the task at hand, the light laughter he’d been expecting not emerging. The image he showed was one of the many mesas that dotted the surrounding region.

“The miners are holed up here, at the Keep.” Suddenly the huge rock formation was sliced open to show an intrigue and vast cave, a village-citadel combined around a central pillar while also being built into the walls.

The Brother leaned back and quirked his head. “That is…certainly formidable.” Several other people came around the table to glance at the new image, Belsa leaning forward the most to peer through squinted eyes at the various smaller features.

“Hm, seems to be an Old-Republic Era construction with rounded corridors, hallways and a central column structure that doubles as the headquarters for the overseers and other officials…yet here we sit in this…base. Why was the Imperial command area of this planet moved here?” the peering woman said, her eyes popping up for a moment at the others while she spoke.

There was a small ripple from the group there. Branson providing a gruff answer.

“About 3 years into our occupation here, Overseer Vaza decided it was best to pull out of the Keep to allow even more room for miners…but the miners instead turned it into a sort of public square area and from then on, they started to get…rowdy.” he sighed out at the end and cleared his throat a bit. “But, back to the matter at hand, the Keep was indeed designed in the Old Republic Era and has formidable defenses. The wild monsters that lurk in the deserts on this world needed to be kept out so a heavy front gate was constructed as well as a reinforced interior. Turrets were set up to fire on any attacking foe and these line most of the formation, all being controlled from the control center near the top of the column. In addition, the air shafts were all left open to the elements but have since been heavily protected by the miners. We barely even managed to close off one of the five.”

At each point, the hologram flashed the area he was pointing at red, first the front door, then the command center and after a final pan, the exterior turrets. Finally, five lines running down from the rock formation’s surface into the hollow space.

The Mikkian’s tendrils wafted in the air behind him the whole time as he stood there, a flat expression on his face as his eyes flicked across the hologram. The helmet interior provided additional information for him which he turned off as he looked up at everyone save Besla, still leaning down and peering.

“Why haven’t you used bombers or charges to blow a hole big enough in the structure to perform a mass assault.” he asked as he slowly walked away from the table, heading for the commanding viewpoint the center’s glass window gave him.

The young cadet piped up “The Keep is supposed to be preserved at all costs sir, it’s a very well designed facility and it’s loss here would set the mining projects back almost a decade!…the Overseer doesn’t want that. Also, he says it’s all about that J-” A gloved hand appeared on his shoulder, pushing him back a bit as Captain Dennels stepped forward after this silencing maneuver.

“We’ve been trying to keep damage to the base a minimum. We are certain that if the leaders were captured and executed, the others would fall into line, like Tamri’s father.” Dennels calmly said as he advanced towards the armored superior slightly, stopping just before the stairs up to the platform where the Inquisitor stood.

The Third Brother turned around and rapidly spoke as he stepped down the stairs and moved to the exit door. “Cadet, with me, we are going to infiltrate the Keep now. The rest of you ready your forces to attack the front gate and Captain Venow, get our bombers ready to attack.”

There was a small stir in the room as people watched him start to leave and looked at each other. He stopped in the doorway and turned his head to the left, stating again “Cadet, with me.” before he exited the room.

“So, what are you?”

The Third Brother stopped his crawling, pausing for a moment which caused the boy behind him to also stop.

“Race I mean, what um. Kind of alien are you.”

The Inquisitor gave a small nod at the better phrasing and replied in his dull toned voice “I am a Mikkian. My people don’t travel into the outside world much so it’s likely you won’t see too many of us throughout your hopefully long service to the Empire.”

The two resumed their crawl in quiet. They had been very stealthy in their approach, travelling in a wide arc away from the small wasteland that had formed between the Imperial Complex and the Keep before approaching their destination through a secret maintenance tunnel. The Inquisitor had encountered it when scanning the records of the base which he had done as he had been standing there looking at the table in the meeting, searching for his way in. The few reports he found under the fresh Imperial data was from roughly 10 years before the Clone Wars, where a series of notices first asked people to stop using the old access chute for smoking on break, then a demand which finally turned into a note of closure. So now, the two smaller figures crawled through the narrow chute, the Inquisitor’s red blade heaving easily cut past the welded plates that kept others from gaining access. Cobwebs and dust lightly drifted in the dank tunnel of metal but eventually, they found their way out into the Keep.

Crawling into a room carved into the rock, they both moved to stand up and scan the space. Several crates lay nearby, all empty of their original contents. With a few taps onto the device in his artificial limb, the Inquisitor’s probe droid came racing into the space from the outside and with a few chitters, got down to scouting for them. The cadet slowly move on ahead with the droid at his side, an antenna extended as it scanned the storerooms they found themselves in. The cadet himself meanwhile, kept ducking and pressing himself up against the walls as he held his E-11. Their leader stayed closer to the rear, tapping at his wrist device to communicate with his probe and also call up all information relevant to his interior visor. He eventually turned the feed off as they continued to sneak around. There was just, nobody around, no guards yet or even maintenance droids.

They made their way out of the storage rooms and quickly pressed themselves against the wall, staring up in awe and observation at the Keep around them. They had emerged out on what was about the third floor of a some thirty floor structure, the floor of the base stretching out beneath them until it met with the central column that rose up from the middle of the huge space and met the ceiling. Along the walls were doorways, windows, lifts and hanging laundry that all led up until the roof became too steep and was cut off. They clung to the shadows, the space illuminated by lighting attached to the walkways. The small group remained to the side, keeping out of sight of the rough and tumble miners who patrolled the area.

The Brother turned to look at the young man and said “Take my droid, head up to an electrical box and cause some…mayhem. Hide afterward and wait for a signal.”

The youth nodded before he darted a few looks around and plunged back into the hallways, closely followed by the probe. The droid’s feed entered a small circle in the corner of his helmet as he slowly headed into the space. He felt eyes snap to him as he also saw that the other two had reached a box.

“Stop there!” one of the men gruffly shouted out, staring down from a catwalk.

The Third Brother instead called his lightsaber to his hand from his back, activating it. There were gasps and the male Mikkian felt awe and shock enter through the room.

“Another Jedi?” he detected someone mutter to their fighting companion.

He gave a snarl and muttered “Certainly not.” as the lights suddenly went haywire and he got to work.

He headed up the final few steps to the peak of the column at the center of the base, cutting down the final guard in his way as he finally stepped into the control chamber. The man he’d just killed hadn’t even fully hit the ground behind him as he entered, the door closing with a hiss behind him. There stood his quarry, a half-trembling male Theelin who was aghast by him.

“S-such darkness…” he muttered out as he stumbled back, his hand on a metal cane. Yet his other hand was free and he brought out a unadorned lightsaber as the armored other approached. He ignited its green blade and held it out before him in a weak attempt at defense. The Third Brother brushed past him, using a push and hold to keep him against a nearby wall. His eyes kept forward as he scanned the control consoles. Still using his hand, he placed his now deactivated lightsaber on the bank of controls and started tapping away at the terminals.

“What happened to you -” the male started to ask but the Third Brother whipped around, yanking him closer with the Force as his hissed “Don’t say it.” before he pushed them back, sending the male sprawling back along the floor. He came to a stop shortly before the door and lay there, coughing.

The Mikkian turned back to his task to deactivating the defenses and opening the front door. He was about to succeed when he felt a ripple in the Force and just barely dove away as the green lightsaber flashed across the space he has occupied. The Theelin was not as injured as he seemed, a ruse obviously as the Third Brother then called his lightsaber to his hand, leaping out of another swipe. Then began a more traditional battle, the Theelin and the Mikkian dancing around the room, landing the occasional kick or force move on the other but never failing to recover. With each parried swing however, the Inquisitor grew more and more aggressive. This battle impeded him, it stopped his duty here, it was aggravating!

He finally had enough and with a series of pushes and backflips, he tapped the final few buttons he needed to and signaled the Imperial forces through his helmet as he turned to now look at the Jedi, panting with sweat coming down off his brow.

“Why!” the male shouted angrily at him.

The Third Brother darkly smiled as the other was giving in to the Dark Side. “Because this world is needed for the future of the Empire.” he said before he slowly pivoted around. “And this world has no more need of you.”

With a double handed push, he sent the other force wielder crashing into the door and then, as the door too was pushed off of its tracks, flying over the railing and out of sight.

He turned back to the console and activated the projector, Besla Venow’s crisp figure appearing to him.

“Mm, excellent work Inquisitor, the outside forces are crumbling and our troop transports are heading inside now.”

He nodded, hearing the sounds of blaster fire echoing in the space before he deactivated the hologram. He paused and went back to searching the computers. There, within all of this data, he now had what he had suspected. He then headed back to the now broke down door and igniting his blade. Starting it up, he leapt off of the tall structure and slowly drifted downwards to the battle below to help end the conflict once and for all.

“Ah, excellent work Inquisitor…” the Overseer began to speak before the Mikkian simply lopped off his head. The entire party of a very dirty Cadet Tamri, several minor officers, Captain Dennels and Commander Branson all stiffened. They stood there outside the Keep as vehicles slipped past and troopers were beginning to march the miners away. Fear hung in the air like a Falleen pheromone, oozing from the miners as well as the assembled party of officers.

“He allowed this entire event to occur, he left weaponry for the miners to take, he dismissed talks of their mobilization and activities, all to gain glory for himself in the end by defeating them. What he didn’t count on was their devotion to freedom and their ability to modify the weapons he let them steal. He was an ineffective Overseer here and I hope his replacement is far better than he ever was.”

With that, the Inquisitor turned around and moved to walk away, followed by his probe.

“W-wait, wh-” Captain Dennels started soon after him.

“You. I have already given my recommendation to Governor Rais but I suspect my choice will be respected in this matter.”

“Th-” Dennels tried to thank him only to be silenced by a wave of the Mikkian’s hand.

“Serve the Empire, maintain the order so needed in this galaxy Captain, and you will get very far.” the Inquisitor said before he headed off. The sun was low in the sky and a final boom echoed from the Keep.

It was over.

(Artwork of OC made by amazing artist Charles Tan - https://charlestan.tumblr.com/)

[chroniclerofthedeep-blog]

Clear Your Mind - Star Wars OC Fan Fiction

There was only the breath. In and out, it went through the lungs of the male Mikkian, who knelt upon the short pedestal. His room was dark, his window covered in a projection of the stars to help him meditate. Endless, drifting space. Space had rules, order, laws that were followed. Everyone had to follow those rules. But some bent those rules, they sought to toy with space and be clever. Clever and tricky, and false to themselves. Like the rebels against the Empire. The anger slowly filled him. He let the time and place fall away, back into the past.

“Give in to your hatred…” Those words echoed in his mind, those ringing words that had filled his ears as he had sat there on that floor. Dust had been all around him as he slumped against the workstation, holding an injector in his good, still present, hand, his lightsaber on the floor next to him. He remembered his naivete as he had replied, weak and defeated with a cough or two.

“I wouldn’t…get even halfway…across the room…you’d kill me.” The other had stepped closer.

“You are so certain…but not if you let your fear of death and your hatred of me power your actions…”

There was a chime and beneath his helm, the Third Brother opened his eyes, the right one with some difficulty due to the scar. His pedestal smoothly turned around and he sighed internally as he saw the Imperial Officer standing there nervously in the beam of light cutting into his darkness. His drone of a voice, slightly synthesized due to the device that interacted with his throat, drove through the air accusingly.

“What is it, Captain Marens. I was meditating.”

The young brown-haired, green-eyed man gulped audibly yet said in a calm tone

“There are reports a…Jedi and rebels are attacking Hanger 12…Commander Rimes sent me to get you Inquisitor.” He considered the event for a moment. That was why he was here, wasn’t it? A supposed Jedi on Mannan. Jedi were so often tied to disorder and stood against the Empire and yet, there was limited actions that could be taken here. The Imperial holdings here kolto mines, facilities for synthesizing new drugs and base healing supplies, along with the Imperial slavery operations of the native Selkath people. The second seemed a better target yet it was the hangar bay they attacked, where the kolto was shipped. He slowly rose to his feet.

“I will be down there shortly, pull yourselves back and allow me to face this Jedi alone.” The officer noded, saluted with a curt “Inquisitor.” And then was gone, closing the door and plunging the room back into darkness once more.

He returned his thoughts to anger after he raised the lights to retrieve his lightsaber before he began to march down the halls. Cadets and others moved out of his way as he strode past them, his black booted feet making quicktime towards the lift. It was also probably how he appeared to them, as while he was short, he was still a sight to behold. His helmet sat on his head, it’s faceplate covering his damaged visage, hiding his yellowed eyes behind a visor that analyzed the world around him, granting him vision through its scopes. His black and grey body armor contained small marks and accents yet stood out from the sea of white stormtroopers and unarmoured officers. His robotic right hand hung loosely at his side, he barely felt the added weight anymore but it was a bit bulky and a minor annoyance. His other hand was seamlessly fitted to his armored glove. Then there was of course his armored legs and those boots that marched down the hallway with great speed.

He remembered suddenly the speed at which he had lunged up and at that dark being in the old Republic base. The hate for the other and what he was to him then, a murderer, a stalker, a traitor. How he had so easily been disarmed due to his weak limb and hand, losing his blue lightsaber to a Force pull before being sent rolling back across the metal floor. The dust had hung like a light haze in the air due to this disturbance, leaving its old resting place on the metal floor. A metal floor like this one, in this facility, built above the waves of this watery world.

“You gave in…how does it feel? I sense your fear, you fear your death…” The other’s red lightsaber had dragged across floor, hissing and cutting into the metal. It had lifted and he had felt its heat close to his tired, nearly limp head tendrils.

“But...you don’t have to die…”

The lift pinged and the humanoid stepped out, turning his head at the sound of blaster fire, shouts and stormtrooper helmet communicators crackling beneath the armour, frantically talking back and forth as they fought the rebels. He sensed the pain, the ferocity of battle, like in the Clone Wars. So many people only remembered the droid armies, in their vast tens of thousands that rolled out of factories into battle. He had fought against living armies several times, but this one was miniscule compared to those, and far easier. As he rounded the corner he saw, at the end of the short hallway, the Imperials pinned down. The durasteel door was half closed, but over top of this barricade, he sensed the desperation.

Several troopers were behind the door barricade along with a captain and an officer, desperately firing back at the rebels who seemed to have the better ground. A grenade had been tossed and the remains of its flash fire caused a plume of smoke to rise up. As he approached, the stormtrooper captain rushed over to him.

“Sir, the rebels and the...Jedi are attempting to steal a shipment of kolto in our transport, there is one already in the cockpit and several at positions of advantage in the room. The Jedi has taken up a position to the right, behind those large containers, beyond the smoke.” The red skinned alien proceeded forward, reaching to his back and unhooking his lightsaber. This one was unlike his crude old one. This one possessed two blades, and it could spin if needed. It was far more versatile than anything the foolish Jedi had available to them in their time.

He vaulted over the door barricade, and mildly deflected the few shots people fired his way. However, that is when he sensed it. The fear. It filled these rebels, some were human, but the majority were Selkath or other alien races. Did they not see the chaos they caused? The disorder? The Imperial troops stopped firing as well and there was a silence as the Jedi slowly stepped out into view. The armoured Inquisitor instantly knew it wasn’t a Jedi. This Selkath had none of the same emotional calm of a Jedi, he didn’t wear the robes of the Jedi, and while watching him as he approached, the other alien’s handling of the blue blade in his hands was sloppy. The Inquisitor’s head tendrils, waving in the air, and the pants of the men and women from all sides, filled the space suddenly in the silence. He drank it in. Their fear. The Selkath shakily stood there, holding the blade up before him as the other alien came closer.

He remembered how he himself had shaken as the red blade had left his head and he heard it deactivate. Then, a hand came down. He had looked up at the tall, terrifying figure above him.

“You, you are so weak now…but do you see me?” He had only trembled in response.

“I stand before you, strong and capable of restoring the one thing you really covet…order. Alignment, perfection, synchronicity…order.” The hand lay there. He had turned to look up at the other. Younger at the time, the Grand Inquisitor had radiated power, strength and most importantly to him, truth. He had been speaking truth, or so he felt.

He had grabbed the hand that day and the other, taller being had smiled, saying “You shall be a Brother to so many…” So now the Third Brother, as he took a step forward, into the smoke of that long gone grenade, tightened his grip on the blade before he let his mind be cleared and started swinging.

(Artwork of OC made by amazing artist Charles Tan - https://charlestan.tumblr.com/)

[chroniclerofthedeep-blog]

Introduction

This is a writing blog that I am going to post my creative writing on. It will happen infrequently and in small bursts of posts, but I do intend on keeping it going. I’ll be writing about:

- Star Wars

- My own Sci-fi worlds

- My own Fantasy worlds

- MassiveCraft (A Minecraft medieval fantasy RP server I play on)

- Destiny (very rarely)

Some of these are going to be stories but others, specifically with Star Wars, may be reviews of films or books or other things. I hope people enjoy to read what I create, and I hope someday to be good enough to be a full-time writer. Without further a-do, I proclaim this writing blog officially open!