Saturday, August 13, 2011

Dark Tidings - 1



Sorn V quietly orbited her mother as she had done for eons and millennia unaware she was the object of such a disturbance in the Force. The tiny band of lifeforms that huddled in her sheltering boles near their dying fire dozed blissfully under the growing menace high above them. Her emanations had now attracted a small cluster of unliving intruders circling her as an unwanted halo of mites ever seeking a fleeting taste of nectar for their parched wings.

Hanging in low orbit over the green blue globe was a collection of disc shaped objects, their torus silhouettes casting a menacing cloud over the serene coolness of the moon. These objects were then joined by other elongated shapes that completed a distinct formation. The Confederation forces maneuvered their blockade into a tight defensive position.

Aboard the command ship, the buzzing of mechanical servos, rasping of electronic static, and thrum of the power core drown out the imperceptible breath of the sole living passenger on board.

TS-429 approached the console where Tikkes sat at the holonet receiver. The blue projection of a cloaked figure hovered over the console and dwarfed the former Senator whose tentacles twitched nervously.

The projected image was lithe, feminine, and robed in black. A deep hood obscured its features but a gravelly female voice issued forth, "Count Dooku sends his regards, Tikkes. Events on Dac have escalated and now we seek your presence there for a conclave of Confederacy sympathizers."

"All is well then, Mistress?" the Quarren's tiny beak within his tentacles clicked.

"For the moment. We will need to proceed at Sorn V without the initial shipment. According to the Kaminoans, it will be some time before their research is complete and the initial specimens will be ready to work."

Tikkes leaned forward, "How will that possible without the specimens?"

The figure in the projection gestured casually, "You are to send a contingent of Quarren to Sorn V to begin mining operations at once."

"I will send a contingent of Quarren to Sorn V to begin mining operations at once," he echoed the acknowledgement.

"Good," the voice grated. "Once they have been dispatched you will meet Count Dooku on Dac."

"I will meet with Count Dooku on Dac."

The image abruptly vanished and the Quarren nodded to TS-429, "Prepare the ships to leave immediately!"

The tactical droid responded in a flat mechanical tone, "Do you wish for me to accompany you to your rendezvous at the homeworld?"

"No, I need for you to personally handle the enforcement of the mining operation on the Cathar world here. It is imperative that the initial mineral shipments arrive on schedule."

"As you wish"

The tactical droid clattered off to begin deploying his troops.

*****

Hra’tan collapsed awkwardly on his palette of soft furs and leathers within the makeshift tent he shared with Dan’oa. He attempted to stifle a grunt as his bruised ribs reminded him of the night’s parlay with Mrrowl.

“Is there anything I can do to comfort you, dearest mri’te?” she purred as she tried to help him

“No, I just need rest.” He rolled to his good side in an attempt to relieve any pressure on his injured ribs and dozed. His mind clouded over from the masul, a fitful sleep soon took him.

Eyes.

Eyes in the darkness.

White, milky orbs floating in a sea of black drifted toward him, their deathly cataract-clouded pupil slits stabbed into the darkest parts of his soul.

Hra’tan.

The voice, a rasping whisper, grated in his mind’s ears. He twitched and began to breathe heavily, unable to escape the oppressive presence. Dan’oa stirred next to him and nuzzled closer, undisturbed by the unseen presence.

Hra’tan!

The voice commanded attention now. Hra’tan wrinkled his nose at the perception of the foul stench of rot and decay accompanied by the voice.

Hra’tan, my cub. What do you know? What have you seen?

Hra’tan began to twitch more and more violently. A wave of nausea overwhelmed him, a trapping weight of paralysis overwhelmed his ability to flee. One great gnarled claw swathed in rotten weavings and stained leather strips reached toward his brow and slowly forced its way into his head.

Hra’tan’s eyes snapped open in an unseeing gaze as the intrusive presence searched his thoughts.

Shre’ka. With a mate. And cubs. Shadow clouds him. He is very near, I can taste his darkness. Soon the Sa’ruk Chel’vek will be upon him and he will be mine.

Hra’tan twitched lightly.

You have done well, my cub! Anger, hate and dissention are festering in their midst. It is fueled by the guilt from their past and their fear of the future. An army of unliving warriors searches for them even now and soon you will all be mine. Now rest.

Hra’tan twitched one final time as the unwelcome presence of the foul intruder withdrew. His sightless gaze remained fixed as his shallow breathing began to wane.

Dan’oa stirred again oblivious to her mate’s distress.

Ca’el’esh reclined with a sigh. Within the dank confines of his cavern beneath the boles of the Dark Tree, Sa’ruk wrapped his fetid form. He caressed the clean edge of his brother’s blade with satisfaction.

“Soon, Fey'qua'ri. I will be coming for you as well.”

*****

From this distance beyond the village it was now hard to see, especially in the fading moonlight before dawn. Living plants had been coerced by Fey'qua'ri to camouflage the hide-covered dwellings of The People and the strange cold skyboats of the offworlders that had returned them home. Hopefully the cover would obscure the Ra'van'ti huts from the prying eyes of others. It was the eyes of the Sa’ruk Chel’vek (fierce shadow spirits) now that concerned the venerable shaman.

In Fey'qua'ri’s mind he could still see the glow from the fire and the soflty swaying embers of The People as they dispersed from the gathering.

Shas'tan sat next to Fey'qua'ri and passed the pipe back to him. The aged Cathar took a long draught of the smoke and regarded recent events. Tendrils of the sweet aroma wafted across his gray muzzle lit from the glow of the bowl.

"Many things have come to pass these last few moon cycles," the Mo'at began.

Shas'tan nodded.

"I sense that there is still much for Shre'ka to do."

Shas'tan nodded again, "We have seen many things, you and I. We have fought many times together and now have traveled across the ocean of stars to other lands I never thought possible. Although the purpose for the journey was of evil intent, I have hope for Shre’ka that it will make her more confident in herself, in her ability.” Shas’tan drew on the pipe and handed it to Fey'qua'ri.

Fey'qua'ri took the pipe and nodded this time. “I sense a stirring in Sa'uuk. My brother, Ca’el’esh, is at work. His rotting claws have somehow forced their way into our midst again and now I see this evil is wrought by him."

"Surely he must be dead by now."

The old Mo'at regarded Shas'tan with a flat look. The clan leader knew better than to question Fey'qua'ri's intuition. “Don’t underestimate Sa’ruk.”


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