Breaking the Mind
Posted on Wed Feb 6th, 2013 @ 10:24pm by Thane & Bomoor Thort & Berry & Sev Rezer & Morgo Le'Shaad
2,985 words; about a 15 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter III: Relics
Location: Ancient Temple, Tython
Timeline: Day Eleven
OLD
But neither female registered any more than a blip on his radar, as he darted into the room and sighted Bomoor, the Ithorian poised in a combat stance, his viridian lightsaber ignited and his manner alarmed. As Thane entered, seeing Bomoor's stance and anticipation, he knew his worst fears had been realised, and that his friend meant for him to die.
He would not give him the chance.
But that was the last thing he thought before the Ithorian let out a Force-fuelled bellow, sending the Human hurtling backwards into a stone wall.
"You traitor!" Thane roared, recovering recovering from the blast as he locked his fury-filled eyes upon the Jedi Consular, a burning desire to destroy the Ithorian's very being consuming his entire visage. He brought his blade out to his side, and used every fibre of his passion-gorged being to call the Force unto him, building himself up magnificently with destructive potential.
And then he leapt at Bomoor.
NEW
Bomoor stood panting as the last of the dreadful visions disappeared into the air. Thane's pale and menacing face was the last to go. His furious, burning eyes still clung within the Ithorian's mind. Had Thane turned? Had he failed his friend by bringing him to this place of darkness?
As if in answer, a primal cry erupted ahead of him. There he was, his companion turned dark-sider with those eyes filled with that unquenchable rage he had seen before. Thane ran towards him with pounding steps and his lightsaber ignited and outstretched at his side, meaning to cut Bomoor down where he stood.
He was upon Bomoor after only a few short strides, giving the Ithorian only a fraction of a second to twist around on the spot and catch Thane's attack at his side. His fallen friend had put too much power into the charge and Bomoor used this temporarily-displaced momentum to throw Thane aside and then will him away with a Force Push.
Thane skidded briefly before drawing himself up once again to face the consular. The room was slowly filling with a fine mist once again, which wrapped itself around Thane's legs. Bomoor's head began to pound. A splitting pain arched through his body and he drew himself into the defensive Shien position as he anticipated another attack from the former-Jedi.
But for a moment, no attack came. Thane stood there raging. His body heaving with an intense but unstable power. Bomoor watched with horror as the smog slowly wrapped itself around Thane's body, glowing violet with the light of his blade. Like a formless creature, the gas enveloped the human, wrapping itself tight around him until even his face was obscured by the purple mass. With a flash, the mass became a crimson red, which peeled away from the body to reveal a frightening figure. It was still Thane, but his skin has been ravaged and scarred all down his right-hand side and one of those burning yellow eyes was no longer there. Instead, the hateful gaze came from a red cybernetic eye that glowed solemnly in the dim light.
The Ithorian fought back the pain, burying it deep inside his mind, "So this is who you are now, Thane?" he boomed, tears beginning to well beneath his eyes, "This is the realisation of your ambitions - to become some psychopathic dark lord?"
The ghastly visage stood staring at Bomoor for a few moments with his glowing red eye, seemingly willing his old friend's destruction through sheer willpower. Not answering, Thane broke from his brief pause and glare and shot forwards with unnatural speed, faster than the Jedi had ever seen the Human move before.
In the short seconds Bomoor had before Thane was on him, the dark figure seemed to shift between this grim and scarred figure and how he had been before, a blade caught between violet and red in the spectrum, but the Ithorian had barely enough time to register this as the enraged man spun and slashed with his lightsaber frantically - a disorganised but powerful take on the seventh form of lightsaber combat.
With his hilt gripped firmly in two hands, both of Thane's currently organic eyes gleamed golden with the presence of the dark side, smashing at Bomoor's hastily put together defence, almost formless as it attempted to keep pace with the speed and ferocity of the former Jedi-turned-dark sider's heavy and rapid blows. But, unlike Thane's usual approach, there was no concentration or grace to the man's form: he was entirely sporadic, caring only about cleaving Bomoor in two.
The man was not himself, and the man who had almost become a blur to the Ithorian was not Thane, but simply a being of pure intent, but he was nevertheless moving too quickly for Bomoor's energy to keep up.
As Thane let of a flurry of heavy blows, pushing Bomoor further to the stone wall just behind him, he let out a primal hiss through the respirator that once again adorned his face, and clearly sensing Bomoor was tiring, went even more on the offensive, trying to smash away whatever last vestiges of energy remained the Jedi Knight. As he knocked Bomoor's saber to the side, forcing it to point away from him, Thane spun quickly on the spot to deliver a kick into the Ithorian's bulk.
The kick was incredibly powerful but was unfocussed. Had it caught Bomoor squarely in the chest, he would have been winded and open to a killing blow from Thane but instead it knocked him on the shoulder, which was thrown firmly against the wall with a loud thud. But the Ithorian was still in control, while Thane's powerful kick had left him exposed briefly. It was enough time for Bomoor to send in another powerful blast of Force energy right into the warped spectre of his friend, sending him halfway across the room.
This time, Bomoor did not waste a second and he relaxed his body and allowed the Force to restore his weary body through his Rejuvenation technique. He twitched slightly as thoughts of betrayal disrupted the calm he needed to achieve but he quickly began to feel the deep influence of the Force in his body. His eyes flicked quickly to Thane, who was once again drawn up to attack. The mists seemed to rise and fall around him. One moment he was the Thane he knew and he next he was a fierce and fiery figure. The aching in Bomoor's head was not relieved by his Rejuvenation. All he could focus on at the moment was the fact that Thane had sacrificed everyone in turning on them here. How could he protect anyone when he could not even protect himself?
Crashings and fizzings were all Berry could hear as she ran around the mist, having almost been blown over from the sudden blast of wind. Her heart was racing as well as her mind. The wind...maybe it wasn't just regular wind. Maybe it was...Sarkon. He liked to push everyone around with his weight and wind, so much so that sometimes things just got ripped apart. Berry blinked rapidly as sweat and condensation dripped into her eyes. He couldn't be here, too? Her stomach hurt just thinking about it. His metal hand wrenching in it...she fought back a shudder.
“Sarkon!” Berry thundered out into the mist, a scowl on her face. “Fort Marina is behind us. I won’t fight you if you leave now. You helped me once, so I owe—oof!” The part-Aquar suddenly caught her foot on something and flopped over on the ground, almost hitting the room’s wall. What was there? It felt soft.
Berry peered through the mist to see what was beside her. A body…her eyes widened as she rushed over to it. “Morgo!” she yelped.
Morgo lay on the ground, unconscious, her white jumpsuit slightly dirtied from dirt and dust. Dark blonde strands from Morgo's bangs had already began to matte with blood as the small wound on her forehead bled lightly, the injury sustained when the might of Bomoor's Force Bellow had slammed her into a wall. Her dark, long lashes fanned out across her cheeks, as they trembled ever so slightly, brow furrowed in distress. It made for an overall, disgustingly delicate image—one that Morgo would've frowned at.
Berry’s brows knit as she tried touching the lady’s wrist like Pacho had shown her. She tried not to whimper in frustration when she couldn’t feel anything. Well then…fine! How about this? Berry placed her ear on the woman’s chest, frowning worriedly. She could hear…NOTHING. The part-Aquar fell back in horror—then blinked and quickly listened to the other side of Morgo’s chest. Ah, there we go…
But now for an even worse problem. Someone was fighting, and Morgo was out as cold as an ice cube. They had to find the exit. Berry scooted her arms under Morgo and tried to pull her up, but to no avail. The part-Aquar frowned and tried to flop the woman on her shoulder. Berry's eyes widened in shock. "Waah!" and caught the body right before she hit the ground. Berry frowned determinedly. They were gonna get out, one way or another! So she grabbed a foot and pulled.
Morgo made a noise that sounded like distinct displeasure, but otherwise did not stir as she was dragged out of harm's way in a manner wholly undignified.
Thane did not relent, even though he, as well, seemed fatigued by the ferocity of his onslaught, as well as the sheer effort it was to sustain the attack through the numerous Force techniques the Ithorian was throwing his way. After a few seconds of panting, he took a few quick strides towards Bomoor, his face set with anger and frustration as he let out another primal roar and hurled his red-violet blade straight at the Jedi Consular, spinning wildly in the air, the noise almost unbearable at the speed it shot towards him.
However, in his ridiculous fit and overpowered attack, Thane's attack was devoid of intelligence or focus, and even though the blade spun in a vicious way of its own, Bomoor was able to use the Force to slow it just slightly and bat it away, but was only then successful in further angering his assailant. Once more the dark and mangled Sith figure, Thane brought his hands up as if ready to call on the Force.
Indeed, the mists seem to grow around him more, and - even if for just a second - the Human seemed to falter in his determination and vendetta, but nevertheless sparks still began to crackle between his fingertips. Although not slow in gathering the dark side to him, Thane's preparation was slow enough for Bomoor to prepare as the former Jedi howled with rage and unleashed a surprisingly large barrage of Force lightening upon him.
Bomoor had never seen such furious force lighting in his life. The raw power directed towards him was powerful to knock a person out in one moment. The Ithorian drew his lightsaber down to catch the lightning but the force was so great that blots of electricity seeped around and whipped at his leathery skin. It was a mild pain, one that Bomoor could hold out against. He just hoped that his enemy would tire from using the powerful ability.
In that moment, Sev Rezer appeared from another entrance and watched the two Jedi fighting. The Jedi are out of control. You must stop them , came a whisper in his mind. The Mandalorian blinked. That wasn't his own thought, but it wasn't a wrong thought either. Jedi had caused the deaths of his parents and his clan. Jedi were meddlers and wielded too much power. Sev's face became grim.
"You two, stop this fighting now, by the moon of Mandalore, I'll kill you both!" Sev cried, bringing his rifle up and pointing it straight at them. "You Jedi are always cause trouble and hurting people."
Automatically and immediately responding to this new danger, Thane's murderous eyes looked over from the crackles of blue lightning that were stretching out from his fingertips straight at Sev, the mad glint growing more insane with the sight of the Mandalorian.
"No!" He shouted manically at the newcomer, taking one hand away from his barrage of lightning to aim it at the bounty hunter, dragging the rifle away from his hands and immediately twisting his hand around in the air. Almost instantly, Sev Rezer's windpipe began to constrict, the former Jedi who had entirely lost touch with reality flitting between his two targets in almost confused rage - his attention unfocused and divided.
Sev started to feel the oxygen reduce drasticly as his throat started to be crushed. He had thirty seconds, maybe a minute to react before he died like many people had with that cowardly Jedi trick. With effort he raised his left arm and fired several darts. Those darts broke in several jagged debris, each charged with eletricity. All of the sudden it appeared the jagged pieces formed a web of metal and energy was now flying towards Thane. The Jedi now had to set the Mandalorian free before stopping the darts turned into an eletrified web of sharp metal.
Thane growled at the sight, his eyes growing wide for a second as realisation dawned. Clenching harder with the Force for a second on Sev's throat, he then use telekinesis to fling the bounty hunter off to the side as he brought his lightning to bear on the web hurtling towards him, nevertheless leaving himself exposed as the darts sparked into nothingness.
Now released from Thane's onslaught, Bomoor was ready to take advantage of this diversion. He drew on the Force once again and charged with great speed towards Thane. He brought a hand out to one side and, when he was only a metre or so from Thane, he shot it forward, delivering a powerful, focussed blow of invisible energy to Thane's head. The man was shot back, sending his head to smack against the stone wall.
Bomoor stood firm, once again in a defensive stance over the former Jedi, who had fallen to the ground upon impact. A final shuddering image of a Dark Lord flashed before him before his mind was released from the gripping pain. Now, the familiar form of his friend Thane lay on the ground at his feet. He seemed to be knocked out cold from the impact but Bomoor was not taking any chances.
He glanced over his shoulder briefly and saw the Bounty Hunter walking up behind him, "What in the name of the Force happened to him, Sev?" he questioned, hoping that Mandalorian was still on his side, "He's completely overtaken by the Dark Side."
The bounty hunter took his helmet off, showing his sweated face. "I have no idea, Boomor. But it something inside this temple... I'm not a force sensitive but I keep having dark thoughts, like I should shoot you before you betray me. " His face closde. "You're not going to betray me, are you, Jedi?", he asked picking up the rifle on the ground.
"I felt the same way," Bomoor spoke more calmly as he caught his breath, "But, no, I am not against you. Something is twisting our minds in this place. I can only hope that Thane's outburst was just a product of that..."
In the back of Bomoor's mind, he couldn't escape that fact that Thane had discovered his secret mission from the council. How could things carry on with him knowing that?
He slowly retracted his lightsaber and placed it back on his belt, "What should we do with him now? Is there anywhere safe from this dark influence?"
And things had been so good! So silently loud and delicious, but they were starting to chatter again, spoiling this most savoury of meals with their endless and mindfully un-nonsensical gibberish reasonings.
There they sat, so kindly disrupting his beloved silent conversations with that infernally beautiful and friendly box, so full of hate and salvation, thinking themselves better for stooping below beloved insanity, the one true thing that made any sense in this world of logic!
The contemptibly, atrociously wonderful and annoying interlopers had dangled their wonderfully ridiculous and appetising foods, only to then start laughing at poor K'Errekh chewing upon the massive morsels of nothingness, which had now devolved into inedible and noisy titbits of world-shatteringly concise thought.
And now the box was whispering sweet condescensions to him, shouting over the void of clattering ideas to pummel his poor, insatiable hunger, with Valtris simply clasping greedily onto the box with his bone-white and vice-like grip.
In his beautiful silence he mocked darling, hungry K'Errekh, so tightly gripping the whispering box as though his death depended on it.
K'Errekh had had barely a sweet three-and-a-quarter second silent break from the box's mutterings when they suddenly galloped back, promising terribly tasty and mortifying fruits if he would simply be cowardly enough to pluck them from the wilting flowers beyond.
He had to! He knew he had to!
If he didn't, he would never hear the start of it from Lord Valtris, who never deigned leave the unmoving and often-hilarious box. But, after all, K'Errekh knew, it was his duty - and he did do it oh-so-well.
K'Errekh did hate Valtris with all of his heart, and he would prove that by shouting at the box so loudly before marching with his army of insatiable hunger.
But even with the two-and-three-thirds seconds of space he had, he knew there was too much time, and so slowly hurried away towards the exit, the box howling all the way in silence.
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