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keldae · 6 years ago

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Drastic Measures (Chapter Twenty-One)

Night fell over Coronet City, covering the wounds left from the Cold War that hadn’t healed in the three years since the Imperial bombardment. Right now, some of those old wounds served a helpful purpose — Jonas Balkar crouched in such a scar, a crater created by any one of countless bombs, holding his breath until the Skytrooper patrol passed without seeing him. The Corellians, always a thorn in the side of the Empire, had been enough of a nuisance to Zakuul that Eternal Empire forces now roamed the streets, enforcing a harsh curfew until the Star Fortress was completed. The imposing monolith would then take over surveillance and security of the planet.

Once the coast was clear, Jonas crept across the street and through the plaza littered with old industrial structures, making his way to a rusty grate built into the wall. He tapped a code against the durasteel, and a minute later, the grate opened enough for him to slip inside. The Selonian who’d let him in gestured down the corridor with her paw. “You’re almost late. The meeting is starting.”

“Sorry, got stuck in traffic,” Jonas muttered as he slipped around the other rebel. “Thanks.” He hurried off down the old tunnel, stumbling more than once on old rubble and cursing under his breath.

He finally made it to the large underground chamber, somewhere below Axial Park. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologized to the rest of the resistance cell leaders as he all but flopped onto an overturned barrel. “Skytroopers are changing their patrol routes.”

“Yeah, we noticed.” Cole Cantarus frowned under the dim, flickering lights. “My CorSec forces are scrambling to figure out the new routes. Lost two guys yesterday.”

“Zakuul’s got the entire galaxy in a blasted chokehold,” grumbled a female voice. Risha Drayen brushed a lock of dark hair out of her eyes that had escaped the messy bun at the back of her head. “And there’s still no word about Master Taerich or Agent Shan.”

“Not quite true,” Cole corrected. “Got an update from the storm system. They’ve been found, and they’re on Dantooine. Master Shan brought them in today.”

“That’s a relief,” Jonas said with a sigh. “Because the last solid intel the SIS had placed them with either Darth Imperius or Cipher Nine on Dromund Kaas. Apparently Master Taerich’s related to Imperius -- who knew?”

“… To be fair,” spoke another voice, breaking the stunned silence that had followed Jonas’ report, “Xaja has never been one for sane, reasonable plans.” The Corellian Barsen’thor, Jakar Forseti, leaned forward. The lights cast the scars on his face into stark shadows and just glinted off the hilt of the saberstaff he carried under his jacket. “And she was friendly with Imperius during the Revanite crisis. If they are related, I suppose insanity must run in the family.”

“Theron’s never been fond of logical plans either,” Jonas muttered, thinking back on his friend who had always preferred climbing through windows to walking through perfectly fine doors. “He and Master Taerich are completely meant for each other.”

“How romantic,” Risha deadpanned. “Any comm chatter about where they are now?”

“None,” spoke up the last conspirator. Bey’wan Aygo crossed his arms over his chest and stroked the fur extending from his chin. “If the Republic got so much as a whisper as to where they are, you know Saresh would be going after them -- whispers they won’t be getting from us.” He glanced at Jonas, got an agreeing nod, and continued speaking. “Fortunately for them, most of the chatter has concerned the contract put out for Imperius and Cipher Nine.”

“As if we didn’t have enough with just Zakuul and the Republic involved.” Jonas sighed and looked up at the roof of the cavern. “Wonderful. Thunder hasn’t issued any new orders?”

“Stay on alert; keep pissing off the Zaks; and if Dantooine is compromised, we haul ass to get people out of there alive.” Cole shrugged. “The usual.”

“I thought Thunder was supposed to be keeping the Imps from getting involved in all this,” Bey’wan muttered. “Guess they ran out of influence when Imperius and Nine jumped in anyway. Of course, if Imperius is Master Xaja’s brother, I don’t blame him for getting involved.”

“It wouldn’t be the greatest surprise revelation I’ve heard during this entire war and rebellion,” Jakar muttered. “The Green Jedi have heard nothing regarding Xaja or Theron, or the hunt for Imperius and Nine.”

“That’s because the Green Jedi have their heads so far up their asses, it’s a miracle they can hear anything,” Risha retorted.

Jakar’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but before he could say anything, Bey’wan quickly interrupted. “Does anyone know what the status of the Republic’s manhunt for them is?”

“My contact in the SIS says Saresh is ready to tear planets apart, looking for them,” Jonas answered. “Especially after Supreme Commander Malcom resigned his post and walked out. Our reporting suggests he’s on Alderaan, possibly working with the storm system. And the rumor is that he’s Theron’s biological father.”

“… That does make things complicated,” Jakar said flatly. “Any news from the other cells?”

“Tatooine managed a decent hit against Zakuul,” Cole reported, “according to Captain Korin. He took down one of the Star Fortress towers, and is planning to infiltrate the Fortress skeleton itself to find a weakness. He might be getting Imperius to help, since he just arrived to the cell after escaping Dromund Kaas. Zakuul hasn’t retaliated yet, which is surprising.”

“Probably because Arcann’s hyper-focused on finding Master Taerich and Agent Shan,” Risha said. “One rebel strike probably isn’t more than a blip on his radar.”

“Hopefully he gets distracted by the Empire’s involvement in all of this and doesn’t find them under their current rock,” Jonas muttered. “They’re not stupid -- they have to know they can’t stay in one place. With any luck, they’ll be long gone from the Enclave by the time the Zaks think to look there.” He knew the odds weren’t high, but for his friend, and for the Jedi that Jakar claimed as one of his own friends, he desperately wanted to hold onto that hope.

“That’s a long shot at best,” Jakar said quietly. He offered a taut smile, but his eyes were shaded with worry.

After spending the better part of a standard month running across the galaxy and hiding from unfriendly eyes, even if she had been with her family or Theron the entire time, Xaja finally started to feel like the galaxy was stabilizing under her feet as she immersed herself in the hidden Jedi Enclave. Never minding that this was a rough network of chambers hidden in abandoned kinrath tunnels, with none of the trappings of the Tython Temple, or the constant sense of readiness among the rebel Jedi hidden here — simply the atmosphere of being among other members of the Order was a soothing balm to Xaja’s stressed spirit, especially after the corrupting darkness of Dromund Kaas. As she walked through the tunnels with Kira, quietly catching up with each other, she almost felt at home.

If one discounted the lack of personal possessions, or the constant patrols and monitoring of comms relays, or the paranoid suspicion of most of the other Jedi.

“You found Doc on Rishi?” Kira asked as the two Jedi paced through an old chamber, their voices and bootsteps echoing softly off the walls. “We all got split up during the war, never found out what happened to him. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Or he was last time I checked,” Xaja nodded, sidestepping to avoid a collision with a dark-haired half-Miraluka woman she vaguely remembered from Tython. “The last I’ve heard, there was still a notice out for his capture, so I’m assuming he’s still fine.” She tilted her head to study Kira — at close range now, she could see the constant tension in her former Padawan’s face, even in the caves’ dim light, and the dark bags under her eyes. “He didn’t know what happened to any of you though. What happened?”

“A lot of it’s a blur,” Kira admitted. “For the first months, it was just fighting and trying to stay alive. I went back to Tython, wound up helping some of the Padawans there go into hiding before Zakuul found the Temple. After the Republic surrendered, I started hearing rumours of a resistance network building across the entire galaxy — Empire, Republic, Hutt Space, you name it. Myself and the rest of the Jedi who still wanted to fight came out here. It kinda started out as a halfway house for injured Jedi running from the Zaks, but then we started picking up more and more able-bodied Force users, even a couple of Sith. Thunder established contact with us early on, and Master Satele’s been checking in on us.”

“I’m glad you’re okay and survived all of that.” Xaja squeezed Kira’s arm and got a smile from the younger Jedi. “Have you heard anything about the others?”

“Nothing about Scourge. He just kinda dropped off the face of the galaxy not long after the invasion. And like I said, I lost track of Doc early on. But Rusk joined the resistance too, after the siege ended.”

Xaja blinked. “He did?”

“Yeah. We get updates fairly regularly.” Kira grinned. “Your brother comes by sometimes, and your dad’s dropped in once or twice, both times for supply or intel drops. Korin let Guss and Corso stay here -- Guss so he could train with the Force again, and Corso because, well… we needed a token non-Jedi or non-Forcie person to interact with the rest of the planet for us.”

Reanden hadn’t mentioned travelling to the other resistance cells or seeing Kira, although Xaja supposed that her father had had a few too many things on his mind to tell her about this. “When was Korin last here?”

“About two months ago, give or take?” Kira’s shoulders raised in a shrug. “He’s also resistance, running between all the cells and assorted drop points.” She paused. “He won’t admit it, but I strongly suspect he stole Tee-Seven off of Coruscant.”

“That asshole,” Xaja muttered. “He better not be corrupting my droid.” Kira snickered in agreement, and for a few minutes there was only the sounds of their footsteps.

Kira finally spoke again, her voice soft and subdued. “We watched that ship disintegrate. Korin did, too, while he was guarding us and following us back to Coruscant. How the hells did you survive it?”

“I don’t know.” Xaja shook her head, frowning. “I was unconscious when the Zaks somehow captured Marr and myself. I woke up en route to Zakuul.” She felt a tired smile tug at her lips. “Long story short, Marr and I got hauled up in front of Vitiate wearing a new meatsuit—”

“What?!” Kira’s face drained pale, even in the dim light. “But how the—? He— Revan— Ziost—!”

“I don’t know either. But Marr and I… we could tell it was him. Nobody else in the galaxy feels that evil.” Xaja scowled. “He killed Marr when he refused to kneel, then after I mouthed off at him and called him a microscopically-endowed gizka-blowing coward—” Kira laughed at that. “— then he told Arcann to kill me. Arcann freed me instead and attacked his father, and when I had the chance… I took it.”

“Good,” Kira growled. “That bastard can die a thousand times over for what he did to us, and the rest of the galaxy. Still doesn’t explain how you were dead for over two years though.”

“Oh, that? The Force-damned son of a bitch told the guards that I was an assassin sent to kill his father and had me thrown in carbonite,” Xaja answered, with a flippancy she didn’t feel. She felt sick to her stomach again, remembering the terror of the minutes between being thrown back by the wave of the Force tearing out of Vitiate’s latest body and being dragged into the carbonite chamber, screaming and fighting every step of the way, to no avail…

The bond warmed as Theron nudged her, sensing her fear. Xaja made herself take a breath to calm herself before pushing a small burst of reassurance at him. Okay. Memories. She immediately felt his worry and a cold anger under the surface, and nudged at him again. Okay now. You saved me. The worry shifted into relief and love as Theron finally relaxed, satisfied that she was all right for the moment.

“And Agent Superhero saved the day by somehow finding you in the Spire.” Kira shook her head. “Would love to know how he knew where you were. Everyone was convinced you were dead.” Xaja felt a burst of sadness from her Padawan in the Force. “Korin and I… after we got back to Coruscant, we went and told him what had happened, figured he deserved to know directly instead of through reports. He…” Kira sighed. “Theron didn’t take it well. You know that face people make when they want to scream or cry, but they just can’t, and everything just kinda shuts down? He just… crumpled.”

Oh, that hurt, she thought, to know how badly Theron had taken her loss. For a second, an image flashed in Xaja’s mind of Theron falling to his knees in his small Coruscant apartment, the spy facade on his face shattering to show anguish as he crumpled in on himself, unable to cope with the pain. Xaja closed her eyes against the burning sensation she could feel, and reached back along their bond with the strongest wave of love and comfort that she could muster. She could feel Theron losing his breath at the overwhelming sensation before he pushed back at her with a burst of love for her. That nearly did make the tears come — she had to blink away the moisture in her eyes.

“Huh, that was weird.” Kira had her head tilted at Xaja, quirking an eyebrow at her former mentor as she nudged at the Force around them. “I knew you two were a thing before… y’know… but did you have a bond like that before?”

“No, this is a recent development.” Xaja looked around the corridor, making sure they were alone, before lowering her voice. “I accidentally formed a bond with him on Rishi, right before we found out I was dying of complications from the carbonite poisoning.” She gestured for Kira to remain quiet when the taller woman’s eyes flashed wide in horror, then continued. “My other brother managed to get me medical treatment on Dromund Kaas, but it affected my Force connection. My dad took us to Voss, and the healers did a ritual on us that strengthened the bond, making it deeper and permanent.”

“For what, emotional connection?” Kira frowned in confusion.

“No, but it’s a side bonus.” Xaja raked her hands through her hair. “What I tell you does not leave this corridor.” At Kira’s nod, she continued. “The bond’s main purpose was twofold: Half of it was restoring my Force connection, and half of it…” She sighed, feeling sick again despite Theron’s reassuring presence in her mind. His wasn’t the only presence she could feel. “… I picked up a mind parasite on Zakuul… one you’re familiar with. The bond keeps him suppressed so he can’t possess me.”

She watched as Kira’s expressions and Force-signature shifted from confused to horrified to furious to steely determination, all within the space of a few seconds. “Good. Let me know if you need any more help with dealing with that brain fucker.” The younger Jedi reached up and squeezed the other’s arms. “You didn’t abandon me when you knew what was in my head, Master. I’m not ditching you now. We’ll deal with this bastard, one way or another.”

The Killik tunnels that connected Organa Castle to the hidden resistance base in the Juran Mountains still made Jace shudder every time he walked through them. No matter that he had been assured by their diplomat Joiner, a former Imperial named Vector Hyllus, that the Killiks were allies and meant no harm, it was still unnerving to walk through the insectoid lairs, stepping around the large, violet eggs, trying to not breathe in the scents. And that was before taking into account the unnatural black eyes and clicking noises of the human Joiners who had become part of the nest. Jace wasn’t too proud to say he was having disturbing dreams about the Joiners.

But the important thing was that if they creeped him out, they terrified the Zakuulans. There were four Zakuulan Joiners, wandering around in the rags of what used to be their uniforms. The rest of the Eternal Empire’s forces seemed to have given up, for fear of being brainwashed themselves.

Jace walked into a substantial cavern, deep under the mountains. Once, this had been an extension of the Killik hive — now it was part of the resistance network that spread through a significant chunk of the planet, extending as far as Rist territory. The warring houses of Alderaan could unify against a common enemy, it seemed. They weren’t the only ones — numerous clusters of mingled Imperials and Republic personnel filled the cave. Jace blinked when he saw a Hutt on one platform, emphatically gesturing to a monitor in front of him as he tried to explain something to a Republic scientist with a longsuffering expression on his face, then shook his head and kept walking. Apparently the Hutts had their own grudges against Zakuul.

He made his way to another platform, feeling the conversation fade to a hush at his presence. “You wanted to speak to me?” he rumbled, looking at the resistance personnel before him.

“We did.” Vector offered Jace a shallow bow, then turned back to the computer behind him. “We have received intelligence from the storm system, Commander. Agent Shan and Master Taerich have been located.”

Jace’s heart jumped into his throat. “Where?”

“Dantooine.” Doctor Kimble turned to Jace, looking visibly relieved for the first time since he had arrived on Darth Imperius’ ship, having fled Dromund Kaas in a hurry. “The Grand Master found them and brought them to the resistance cell there.”

Satele found them? Jace felt a knot in his back loosen with that good news. “That’s good to hear.” He suddenly paused. “Weren’t they with Cipher Nine before? Is he in the cell too?”

“No.” The only woman on the platform, a Corellian Jedi named Mairen Bel Iblis, barely glanced up from the computer she was working on. “I received a notification from my station chief on Nar Shaddaa. He’s picked up Cipher Nine, who says he doesn’t know where Master Shan took Master Taerich and Agent Shan.” Judging from how the redhaired Jedi-turned-spy pursed her lips, Jace guessed she didn’t fully buy Cipher Nine’s story — not that he could blame her. Imperial spies were devious and talented liars, and Cipher Nine, being one of the oldest agents in the field, was something of a legend for how damned good he was at his job. It was a pity that he couldn’t be persuaded to defect. “Apparently he left them on Voss and went to cause a distraction.”

“Voss?” Jace crossed his arms over his broad chest in thought. “Why would they go to Voss?”

He was answered with a chorus of silent shrugs. “It’s difficult to say,” Doctor Lokin said, stroking his beard. Looking much like a kind grandfather, he should have felt trustworthy — but Jace couldn’t forget that he was retired Imperial Intelligence, and one of Cipher Nine’s comrades. Assets who lived to be that old were dangerous. “Master Taerich was ill from the side effects of carbonite poisoning, one of which was all but losing her access to the Force. She may have gone to Voss for healing when our medical treatment didn’t restore her connection.”

“Or they may have wished to stay out of sight of the rest of the galaxy,” Vector suggested. “Voss is neutral territory still, and expansive enough that they could have tried to hide.”

“Two humans on Voss would stick out like Hutts in the Senate,” Doctor Kimble muttered. “I’m with Lokin on this one. Xa— Master Taerich probably went for healing. But what was Master Shan doing there?”

Jace shrugged. He’d known Satele the longest, and he couldn’t identify what would have led her to the alien planet. The Zakuulan Knight, Senya Tirall, had said Satele planned on going there, but she hadn’t known why. “Takes a Jedi to understand a Jedi,” he grunted, offering a rueful smile in apology when Mairen cut her eyes at him. “Senya Tirall knew Master Shan’s destination, but not the reason. Perhaps Master Shan was in contact with Cipher Nine?” That thought made him feel sick… but Cipher Nine wouldn’t have been the first Imperial Satele had worked with. Jace wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

Lokin and Vector looked at each other before shrugging. “It’s possible,” Lokin finally said. “Agent Taerich never shared all of his contacts with us, and always likes to have a card or three up his sleeve. I believe he’s worked with Jedi before as well — why, I didn’t see fit to ask. In this instance though, he probably would have put feelers out for a Jedi where his daughter was concerned.”

“Hmmm.” The idea of the infamous Cipher Nine as a caring father to a Jedi, worried about her continued safety, seemed incongruous to his reputation as a ruthless Imperial saboteur and assassin. Grimacing, Jace dismissed the possibility from his thoughts for the time being. “Perhaps Master Taerich or Master Shan can give us answers directly.” He turned to march off the platform with a purposeful stride. “Send word for my ship to be prepped. I’m heading to Dantooine to get some answers.” It wasn’t enough to hear through the storm system that Theron was alive and safe for the moment — he needed to see his son, dammit, and probably tear him a new one for scaring him with that blasted suicide note.

So consumed by concern for his own son, he didn’t notice Master Bel Iblis’ brow creasing in a frown as she watched him walk away. She sighed, then grimaced before turning back to her console and the data that awaited her.

It wasn’t a difficult task to find information on Xaja Taerich; Lord Kallig, also known as Darth Imperius; or Reanden Taerich, the mysterious agent previously known only as Cipher Nine after the Cold War. All three members of the family seemed to have made large ripples wherever they went, with Master Taerich having made the largest metaphorical splash. Kovach was impressed — he had seen the Jedi in action and knew she was damned good at her job, but hadn’t realized that she had been a certifiable badass since she was only a Jedi Padawan, taking down a powerful Dark Jedi on Tython, who had defeated even her Master.

Of course, trying to nail down the story of their origins was difficult.

So far, he had found Reanden Taerich’s academy records from his early recruitment into the Imperial Military, noting he had almost immediately been snatched up by Imperial Intelligence. Top marks, top aptitude scores, a reputation for ruthlessness and clever improvisation in the field, and a small flag for his apparent hatred of Force-users. Kovach supposed he couldn’t blame the older agent — he would hate Force-users too if he’d had the Wrath for a brother. But his records had been wiped clean shortly thereafter, with only the odd mention of a classified mission for a few years before it appeared he dropped off the map entirely for five years. He resurfaced on Hutta only a few years ago, under orders from Keeper to ensure Nem’ro allied with the Empire. There was no mention of a wife or lover, nor of any children, in the Imperial archives.

If Imperius is his son, then he should have been flagged as Force-sensitive at birth and registered with the Korriban Academy, Kovach mused. Taerich must have gone back and erased the data to keep his children hidden. On a whim, he still ran a search for Sorand Taerich, and got nothing. Xaja Taerich’s only results were of an Imperial prisoner record, and a hit notice for her head after she assassinated the Emperor.

He frowned as he accessed Korriban’s records, looking for the recruit who would become Darth Imperius. But of course, the boy had been brought to the Academy as a fifteen-year-old slave, and had said almost nothing about his origins. Even the name he had used (when not being addressed as ‘slave’ by Harkun) had only been “Rand.” The Sith Lord who had plucked the human out of the slave pens hadn’t known where he had come from — she had just informed the traders holding him that he would be going with her, and killed the first one to object.

But the Sith said that the boy claimed the slavers had killed his father in front of him. It was why he had embraced the Dark Side to kill in revenge. Kovach frowned — was Cipher Nine actually Imperius’ father? Or had the teenager been mistaken?

He shook his head and opened up another screen, slicing into Republic archives. No mention of Reanden Taerich or Sorand Taerich here either, but Xaja Taerich had plenty of results. He sighed as he scrolled through HoloNet report after report about the legendary Jedi Knight who had killed Darth Angral, convinced Lord Scourge to defect; led the Jedi forces on Corellia; assassinated the Emperor; killed Grand Moff Kilran; fought and won against Revan himself… had personally put Kovach in an armlock and driven her knee into his back until he had confessed to Theron Shan who he was truly working for. He’d never forgiven her for that. His back still ached where she had knelt on him, driving all one hundred pounds of her body weight into his kidneys and growling angry threats into his ear.

He shook his head and skimmed past the public reports of the Jedi’s heroism. No birth certificate — perhaps she hadn’t been born as a Republic citizen. Her identicard had no homeworld listed, nor parents or living kin. He frowned, then sliced into the Jedi Archives, grateful that Saresh had made the Order keep their records open to the Republic. Here, he found the legal document of custody transferal, signed by her mother when she was handed over to the Jedi Order. Why didn’t her father sign the form as well? Did he not know about his daughter being handed over? But at least now there was a name for the mother — Airna Taerich, with no evidence of a maiden name, and a classified name for her husband.

An idea suddenly struck Kovach’s mind, and he grinned as he accessed the SIS’s archives again with his own credentials. Theron Shan’s files had been made accessible when he was identified as a person of interest in Master Taerich’s escape from Zakuul. He wasn’t too interested in looking for the rogue agent’s own backstory — he wanted what Theron had compiled on Taerich before recruiting her for the Korriban attack. Despite his half-baked execution plans, Theron had always been meticulous in his research for big operations like that.

He was briefly surprised to note that Captain Korin, the privateer who had joined the op as well, had no files under Theron’s stack of research. Perhaps Theron had wiped that data? But he left Master Taerich’s up — she was legally dead, after all, and there was no reason to hide her identity. He shrugged and turned his attention to the Jedi’s file, silently thanking Theron for doing his work for him.

Training records… service records… Oh, a Sacking survivor. Kovach almost felt pity for the Jedi at that. Trained by Yvaine Allende and Orgus Din, both deceased… Oh, that’s interesting. The Green Jedi of Corellia claimed that she was the child of one of their own and therefore Corellian, despite a reported birth world of Lavisar. Airna Taerich, were you a Corellian Jedi? Then why was your child given to Coruscant?

He accessed Corellian citizenship records and grinned. Jackpot. Airna Drallig had been a Corellian Jedi, and had been about the right age to be Xaja Taerich and Sorand Taerich’s mother. But she had reportedly left Corellia less than a year before her daughter’s birth, seduced by an Imperial spy, and had died in Imperial space a decade ago. At least now we have the mother identified — and she’s no longer a concern. He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his hand over his chin. Well, my little red haired Jedi, how were you and Imperius connected before Ziost?

He cross-referenced the data on Taerich and Imperius, and nodded when he saw they had wound up working together on Manaan, and then on Rakata Prime, and again on Rishi and Yavin IV. He raised an eyebrow when he saw they had been a part of the respective attacks on Korriban and Tython, and in the reclamation battles. And Cipher Nine was working with them… did you know they were your children, Agent?

Captain Korin had been a part of that entire gong show as well. As far as Kovach was concerned, the snarky, flirtatious smuggler was a person of interest. He ran a search through the SIS databases again, and raised an eyebrow. None of Theron’s research was there… but Korin’s name came up frequently in other records. He had earned both the respect and the hatred of several crime groups, it seemed, including the infamous Rogun the Butcher. On a whim, Kovach accessed the compiled data from Rogun’s slicers and felt his jaw drop. Rogun had managed to access the most information on Korin while hunting the spacer down… including a homeworld of Lavisar, a mention of a deceased mother and missing brother, and two listed surnames. The spacer frequently used Korin Drallig to get around, but there was a mention within the archives of Korin Taerich.

You can’t be… it’s too much of a coincidence. Kovach looked back into Lavisarian records, accessing files from before the small planet had been overtaken by the Empire. No official marriage certificates, but there was a census record of one Reanden Taerich and Airna Taerich, and three birth certificates — one for a daughter who was reported deceased months later in a speeder accident, and two for sons, reported missing after their mother’s death at the hands of raiders. Xaja Taerich, Korin Taerich, Sorand Taerich. This entire family is ridiculous.

Kovach immediately compiled the necessary data and made two copies of the files. One was sent to Darth Vowrawn, as per the Sith Lord’s directions — the other was encrypted and sent to Saresh. She would want to know this information.

The Eternal Fleet ship lurked just outside of Dantooine’s immediate orbit. Yes, this was where Satele Shan’s ship had gone — they had arrived just in time to see the Defender fly into the atmosphere. “Why would the former Grand Master of the Jedi Order go to a planet that her Order abandoned earlier in the war?” The Knight-Captain paced through the bridge, frowning in thought.

“After leaving the same planet where Cipher Nine is reputed to have taken the assassin and the terrorist.” The blue holo figure of one of the Overwatch overseers crossed his arms. “Interesting that a Jedi Master and an Imperial spy should be in league.”

“What updates are there from the other ship?”

“The Phantom was tracked to Nar Shaddaa, but I suspect your other ship lost it and became confused with another vessel. The ship that our people on the surface apprehended was the Duchess, a private civilian ship owned by a gambler, and not the Shadow. The ship was still searched, but it had come in from Corellia, and there were no signs of any passengers — merely the captain, her first mate, and a droid they seem to have modelled after our own, SCORPIO.” The overseer started pacing over the holotransmitter. “And when our agents investigated the Shrine of Healing on Voss, they found evidence that Shan and Taerich had been there, but had departed swiftly.”

“Could Cipher Nine have changed his ship’s identity?” The Knight-Captain frowned as she mulled over the options.

“Unlikely. Such a task would be nearly impossible, especially that quickly. And he was nowhere to be seen on the ship, even after performing a bioscan.” The overseer stopped pacing for a moment. “We will continue to look for the Shadow and Cipher Nine, but that is not your concern. If Master Shan is returning to a planet that the Jedi have historically had a claim to, perhaps the Order did not abandon their enclaves as initially reported.”

“You think the Order still has a presence on Dantooine?”

“I would place money on it. And if Master Shan is fleeing there, perhaps she is attempting to hide the assassin there, at least. Taerich was also a member of the Order and would try to hide among her own people.”

The Knight-Captain nodded, thoughts of glory for being the one to capture one of the terrible Outlanders flitting through her mind. “What are your orders?”

“Search the planet until you find whatever hole the Jedi are hiding in, look for Taerich and Shan, and then burn it to the ground. Take Master Shan alive — we will have answers from her.”

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anandasamsara · 8 years ago

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Finally did my OC. \õ/

Here is her backstory. She was the first I came up with, but there will be others in the future, Now I have five, including her. Each one have its own backstory as well. All except one, but that’s for later. Read on!

Many, many years ago, she was part of a family. But that family had too many children, and she was the youngest one. Her parents waited for her to die, as was a common occurence with small kids then. But she was strong, and survived. Until one day, when the family had sent the last boy to a bigger city to work, and was travelling to see their oldest son. They had almost nothing to eat, and they were already too old to care for her. She was still too small and young. As they reached a forest near the road, they told her to wait under the trees, until they got back with some food. And then she waited. Day became night, and she was too hungry. When the new day rose on the horizon, she was worried. Maybe her parentes died, far too old to fight if something happened. Her stomach growled, and she decided to walk around and try to get some food.

Days after, she was starving. She was too weak to even stand. Sitted under a tree, hearing the crows near her, she knew she was dying. The girl was just strong enough to see a man in front of her. Maybe she was dreaming.

- Ah, hello. Somehow, you look like my older brother. Are you my brother, sir? Oh, no, I know who you are. Mom said that the person you love the most is the last one you see. So, you’re death, right? You came to take me.

- You may be right. Tell me, little one, there is anything you want?

- I wanted to see my brother. But I already have. I want to sleep. Will you take me with you, sir?

- I can take you. Can you stand? If not, I can carry you.

- Thank you. I’m sorry, but I’m too weak.

The man took her in his arms and walked around the forest. He showed her many things, flowers, animals, until they got in a high place. He showed her the sunset. As she saw it, a sadness she never felt took over her heart. With her remaining strenght, she sighed.

- This is sad, sir. You showed me so many beatiful things. I’m sad that I will never be able to see all the things in the world. But thank you. Good night, sir...

The next thing she remebered was pain. So much pain. And then, she was starving again. And finally, all went pitch black.

Startled, she woke up. She was in a cabin. She could see everything, even if it was completely dark. She could hear everything, even the river, many miles away. Then she saw the man, near a table. He was holding something. At first, she was scared, but the smell hit her. Something so sweet, she needed to take whatever it was. The man approached her with a bowl filled with a liquid. She took the bowl and drank everything. When she finished, the man was back to the table, holding a bowl himself. She smiled and wiped her mouth, but the simle was gone as she looked down. Her hands were stained in blood. Realization hit her, the sweet smell and taste in her mouth was blood. She sensed more than saw the man tense in his chair. But she had not screamed. She breathed some times and got up. The men watched her walking to him. She handed him the bowl.

- Sir, can I have more? Sorry, but I’m still hungry.

- Do you know what you just did? Are you sure you want more?

- Is that bad? You’re having the same, right?

- Yes... It’s not bad, no. Here.

- Thank you, sir.

She drank the blood and smiled to the man. He still looked like her brother, and she felt safe with him. She handed him the bowl again.

- Thank you very much, sir. For everything. You saved me.

- No, I didn’t. Sorry, little one, but I condemned you. And sorry, you can’t go out right now. It’s still day, the sun will hurt you.

- Oh. Okay. But sir, what I am now? I don’t feel like before.

-You’re a beast, little one, like me. I’m sorry for it. But... You said you wanted to see everything in the world. And you were dying, so... I should’ve asked you before, I’m really sorry. If you don’t want to be it, we can do something.

- Sir, that’s okay. Really. No matter what you did, or what I am. You saved my life. And I’m grateful. Will I live more? Can I see the world?

- Yes. You will live much more than anything you’ll see. This is not a good life, little one.

- I’ll live forever?

- Unless someone kill you, yes, you’ll live forever. Like me.

The girl smiled, her eyes shyning with joy. The man was astonished, no one would have this reaction. Maybe she was special. He decided, in that moment, that he would take her wherever he went, and wherever she wanted to go.

- This is amazing, sir! How old are you?

- Do you know that castle near the mountain?

- Yes!

- I saw people picking rocks to build it. I saw that people parents getting here to start their lifes. I’m older that this forest, and the lake, and the sea.

- Will I live so much time as you have?

- I hope you live much more than me, little one. Do you have a name?

- No. My parents said it wasn’t important, as I was going to die young as all the children that had no food. You can give me a name if you want, sir.

- I’ll think about a good one. You should sleep, little one. Tonight I’ll teach you to hunt your own food.

When she woke up some hours later, the man was entering the cabin with some herbs in his hands. She got up quickly and ran to him, hugging his leg.

- Good morning, sir!

- Good morning? Okay then, let it be it. I have good news, I got a name for you.

- What is it?

- Mairen.

...

Many centuries have gone since that day. Now, the girl is not just a girl anymore. She is Lady Mairen, the Princess who conquered her own territory, the one who killed her own master and succeded him in all aspects of the society. She is the responsible for the maintenence of Camarilla rules in the city she build for herself, and the head of her own Family. A Family not like the others, not bonded by blood. A Family wich every member is chosen out of trust and loyalty. A Family that help the ones who need more. A place where one who have nothing can call Home.

____________________________________________________

Thank you for reading! So, this is a story I’m working on. It was to be a Vampire: the Masquerade session, but just one of my friends gave me his character backstory, and none never did their character sheets. So, I just got my idea and started it myself. I have other OCs for this universe, and eventually I’ll introduce them. For now, just three of them have a backstory.

As it was not clear in the story, Mairen and her master were Gangrel. She did many things no other Gangrel did, or is interested in anyway. A candy if anyone can say what her master really was, and what she became when she killed him. Also, you can guess why she killed him.

If anyone have any question about it, ask away, I’m here to answer. If you have an idea, you can send it to me.

Thank you for reading :3

#my oc #my art #gangrel #vampire #vampire the masquerade #rpg #my ocs

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ozsaill · 5 years ago

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Challenging anchorages revisited

Miles and years slide by, but the feel of an anchorage sticks with you. Name a bay, and memories flood back: the quality of the holding. The way the swell could wrap around one end. The dogleg track to avoid a shoal. Returning to old haunts, the filter of experience casts a new light. Two recent stops illustrate how anchoring, one of the more stressful routine aspects of cruising, changes over time.

Isla Isabel’s roadstead

Rising from a hazy marine layer, from a distance this island resembled the craggy rock of our memory: a place that might be called barren if it weren’t for the tens of thousands of frigates and boobies (and iguanas and more) that call it home. “Barren” is how we’d hoped to see the anchorage there – well, except for the Island Spirit catamaran called Love & Luck with kid-loaded crew.

We’d anchored at Isabel three times previously, all in 2009. Our first came with the added stress of a sunset arrival and pods of whales. I know, pods of whales – it sounds cool, but it’s can be nerve-racking to navigate when multiple groups are swimming in indeterminate directions and are a lot bigger than your boat.

Arriving at Isla Isabel, January 2009

Mairen on the bow, 10+ years later at Isla Isabel again

Isabel’s more protected anchorage on the east side of the island is a tricky spot with only a narrow ledge for anchoring with relatively thin sand over rock: only a few boats can fit. It’s the kind of place where you show up not knowing if conditions will allow you stay: Totem’s log entry for Isla Isabel from January 2009 records anchoring in 40’, with “rock ledge, boulders / small sand patch, good weather only.”

This time, there was a crowd waiting. Only the catamaran’s freeboard was visible from a distance, but eight fishing boats came into view as the island loomed larger. Mostly open boats, 25-30’ long, the vessels appeared to be in exactly the area we recalled was the limited range for anchoring at a reasonable depth. Great. Active fishing in progress did not increase our options.

Ten years ago, that might have given us enough pause to keep sailing: no room, oh well, carry on! Cruising guides say you have to anchor in closer so it must be true. But with hundreds of anchorages chalked up to experience, our definition of reasonable depth had changed while our confidence in setting the anchor has grown. Instead of being near shore in 40’, we found a spot in 70’ and safely spaced from the other boats. Ten years ago, I’m not sure we’d have tried this, and it was actually a much better spot! Bonus: besides having plenty of room, the bottom there was flat sand and offered excellent holding and no rocks to snag on! We put out about 320’, a scope of around 4.3 to 1, and enjoyed four nights anchored off this mini-Galapagos.

Isla Isabel’s animal kingdom of ground-nesting boobies and arboreal frigatebirds are fearless, as are the green iguanas that roam both; it’s a special opportunity to visit such a natural wonderland. Watching ostrich-like fuzzy frigate chicks, seeing the reunion of booby pairs when a mate returns to the nest, their turquoise feet providing almost comical relief to the reverent dance.

Bring a zoom lens to get pictures from a distance without unnerving birds

The color of their blue-footed boobies really does defy belief

Are you my mother? Frigate chicks peer out from shoulder-height nests

La Paz’s Mogote

Totem swings on the hook off La Paz in southern Baja. This anchorage is known as the El Mogote, named for the antler-shaped spit that’s on the other side of the bay. It’s also famous for the La Paz waltz.

Anchoring here the first time in December 2008, we learned all about the intricacies of this waltz quickly enough. Current rips down the channel from the Sea of Cortez to this historic town and capital for the state of Baja California Sur. The flow of water often opposes wind direction; the result is that the location of a boat relative to the location of its anchor is highly variable, and may create uncomfortably close neighbors. Swirls mean it’s not uncommon to see boats pointing in literally every cardinal direction, and not because they’re bobbing on a windless afternoon but from opposing forces levering against varying hull profiles.

Complicating matters: things happen relatively quickly. In our first two hours at anchor, we traveled nearly two miles in 180 foot wide arc.

Anchoring can have the unfortunate side effect of making people judgmental, and the Mogote brings that out: it’s extraordinarily difficult to pick a spot here. Often a crowded anchorage, it’s particularly difficult to set the hook when you can’t look at a boat and intuit where the anchor lies. Any given boat’s scope is unpredictable, even if you know where they’re sitting relative to their anchor. The snubber and chain may offer a suggestion, but ground tackle could literally be behind the boat. A poorly marked (well, not really marked) shoal runs most of the length of the anchorage: avoiding it, then picking a side and keeping a swing circle clear is not straightforward. The occasional long-term denizen’s claim to needing swing room rings of turf protection and doesn’t always come off well.

When we anchored here in early days, the lack of certainty sometimes meant staying on board at times we’d like to have gone ashore. Even now we play that choice cautiously; despite feeling good about our set, there’s unpredictability in how boats will move, neighbors and Totem alike. One of the newer cruisers here, still building experience anchoring, nudged on the sandbar early in his stay. Decision: pick up a slip in the marina. There’s no shame in that at all, just some coin. Building experience in easier anchorages will make this one less intimidating.

2009: water pits in the Mogote (kid crews from Totem, Bay Wolf, Eyoni, and Third Day)

2019: water colors in the cockpit.

La Paz is a convenient stop off, with great food choices, and one we keep brief to wind our way to prettier islands and more solitary anchorages. For one reason or another, we’ve re-anchored Totem three—no, four times in about as many days, but each time was low-stress. Neighbor getting too close? Not confident in proximity to possible mooring/fishing float? Swinging a little close to the channel? My favorite, being asked to move by two painfully polite Navy crew, trying hard not to bang their tender into Totem while 3 knots of current flooded by, asking us to clear the way for their ship — it needed more room for departure. No problem. Making the call is easier now. Executing once the decision is made is, too.

Less convenient: the morning we planned to depart, a swarm of bees in need of a hive had taken up temporary residence at the base of Totem’s mast, tucked into a halyard coil. Disconcerting at first, their tightly clustered activity became more fascinating. The entirely docile bees weren’t a problem at all, other than a possible complication of departure plans, and choosing Totem a kind of blessing.

Bees swarm by the base of the mast

I tried to find a beekeeper to migrate them to a new hive. Jamie had some other ideas. “Utopia,” of course, isn’t just an alternate state for the bees but the name of our friends’ Beneteau anchored at right.

They left without further urging while we were on shore, not taking the cue (friend Aileen pointed out they may not have been spelling bees); a near-complete disappearance that was almost disappointing. Hopefully they’re ensconced in a better place now! I never did connect with a beekeeper in town, but learned of options if it happens again.

On our way north to the islands shortly; follow along via our PredictWind tracking page. It was the challenges posed by these two anchorages stuck with us over time, but it’s the beauty of those ahead we anticipate. Here’s a little more from Isla Isabel, meanwhile.

Siobhan and Ava tickle a curious iguana under the chin

Frigates look for fish scraps while false killer whales circled first the anchorage, and then the island one morning

Boat teens rule!

from Sailing Totem http://bit.ly/2HY6A7o via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Sailing Totem

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