Severance

Posted on Sun Jan 19th, 2014 @ 1:20pm by Morgo Le'Shaad & Berry

3,661 words; about a 18 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: Cabin Hall, Red Raptor
Timeline: A week after "A Captivated Audience"

Consciousness slapped Berry awake like harsh cold water.

She gasped and sat up, eyes wide. She couldn’t see. No, of course she couldn’t. It was dark. Night time.

But it was always dark in space, like in her cabin. Dark like the deep waters…and cold. Berry gripped her thin blanket and pulled it around her as she regained her senses.

Water…a few moments ago she was swimming like she usually did in her sleep, the water warm all around her. Then suddenly, a cold current. Thighs freezing, movements slowing…

Then…no water. The tides receding, drying up, leaving her on the sandy shore.

Alone.

Her blanket fluttered to the ground as she opened the cabin door, bursting out into the small hall. She looked up and down it, as if to check that she was indeed alone. In her mind she felt the life from those residing on the ship (or lack of for Morgo)…but in the far reaches of space, something was gone.

Her Force bond.

Berry’s heart thudded in her chest, a chest that lifted up and down faster than normal. Her dark eyes widened as she tried to feel for it. Still nothing. Was he dead? No, if he died she’d feel something wink out, like a cold gust that chilled her very soul.

Then…what happened? She needed answers, and so she ran to the person who probably knew everything.

A golden-green hand banged on the door, each “knock” causing her grass skirt to ripple. “Lady Le’Shade!” Berry called out.

Two doors down, in the utter darkness of Morgo’s room, pale eyes blinked open, seamlessly waking from a dreamless sleep. Long hair fanned about her pillow like a dark gold halo, Morgo considered ignoring the idiot girl, the banging on the doors beyond hers, considered the near panicked edge of her voice—and decided against it.

Sitting up slowly, Morgo’s hair hung loose down her back as her blankets pooled around her hips, and turning her face towards the door, Morgo’s voice was quiet. She would not waste any energy than she already had on the girl.

“I am here, Berry.”

Berry gasped. “Oh!” She scampered over to the correct room.

Door opening, the room was shadowed. The only visible thing was the figure on the bed, her body half-bathed in starlight from the window, casting her face in stark relief. Eyes at half-mast watched Berry from where they were, unreadable, yet expectant.

Berry paused, looking around. “Manta ray, it’s dark in here!” she exclaimed, dashing all silence and calm upon the seaweed-slicked rocks. She sighted a glint from the lamp and dove for it, turning it on. It was a plain grey lamp with nothing special about it—except for its ability to glow.

Closing her eyes for the barest second as light flooded the room, Morgo easily tamped down on her irritation. She supposed she should have expected disturbances when she invited disruption incarnate into her room. Allowing her eyes to adjust to the light, Morgo blinked slowly, her lashes fanning low.

“I suppose now would be the time to tell me why you decided to wake me at this ungodly hour?”

“Morgogo,” Berry continued, oblivious. “Something’s wrong. My Forcebond with Thane is gone—but he’s not dead.” She paused. “I don’t think.”

“Pity.” Morgo murmured.

“I know!” Berry said with wide eyes. “What do you think happened? I think they’re in trouble.”

At that, Morgo had to chuckle lightly at Berry misunderstanding her meaning. The poor girl was probably more sleep jumbled than she looked—and jumbled, she was with one braid sticking askew, undoubtedly undone in her sleep. Then again, Berry was never was very quick on the uptake.

Examining the facts, Morgo looked across the room as she calculated the likelihood of a fair number of scenarios that could have brought about this sudden development in Berry's Force Bond with Thane.

"Did either of you swear your undying hatred towards one another in your farewell before?" Morgo asked, apropos of nothing.

Berry’s brows furrowed as she tried hard to think. That was about a week ago, right? Her brain tried to sift through significant events last week to give a context to her last talk with Pale Guy…she had a really good stew last week, with lots of seaweedy stuff in it, kinda tangy and salty. And…talked with Thane after that. “Eeeeh,” Berry managed to say as she continued to think. “I think we were okay?” She nodded. “Yeah.”

Morgo nodded lightly, considering Berry for a few moments before pointing towards the silver lamp on the table—a plain and ugly thing by Morgo's standards. But then again, nothing on this ship really mattered.

"Then levitate that lamp there, would you, dear?" Morgo asked, intentions still unclear.

Berry nodded. “Yeah, okay.” She sighed and sat down on the floor by Morgo’s bed, a thoughtful frown on her face.

Perhaps sleep had its hold still on her, as she seemed to concentrate. The lamp slowly rose, tilting only slightly.

Or perhaps not.

“Wait!” Berry exclaimed, her thoughts coming to fruition. “I didn’t have stew last week, so that means Thane and I had a different conversation!” She gasped and stared at Morgo, the lamp levitation not even on her mind. Nevertheless, she maintained her water-magic hold on it, brain working. “Sooo…hmm, crackers with some kind of lettuce…”

She glanced up at Morgo. “Yeah I think we were okay…?” She winced.


The look the woman leveled Berry was far from impressed. Her levels of scatterbrain were reaching heights. Noxious heights.

Pretending that hadn’t heard Berry at all (which was for the best), Morgo brushed a few strands of her hair from her face.

“From what you’ve told me, one of two things could have happened. One: the Force bond you have with Thane has been broken. Or two: the bond has been blocked somehow.”

Shifting on the bed, Morgo motioned for Berry to set the lamp down as she continued, “As little information exists for blocking existing bonds I’m going to have to assume that to go about blocking one is similar to the way you might break one, which can be done in one of three ways.”

Morgo’s grey eyes cut to Berry, calculating gaze sharp despite the late hour.

“The grounds of kinship that struck up the bond between Thane and you in the first place have not been changed, as far as I can tell. Your general feelings for him have not changed and his probably have not either.”

Huffing a short, dark laugh, Morgo let her eyes wander her room, “Since Thane clearly isn’t decomposing in a ditch somewhere, according to your senses, that cannot be the cause of your bond’s absence either.”

Unfurling her hand to look at her palm, Morgo’s eyes glinted in the light, the lamp beside her softening the look of her skin while painting Berry even more golden than she was usually. As she spoke, her voice was low and empty.

“So it can only mean one of you has turned away from the Force. In one form or another. You can still touch the Force, as evidenced by the lifting of the lamp.” Morgo explained, motioning vaguely to the item just set down by Berry’s power, almost grateful that it hadn’t come smashing down with all the unrefined control that was Berry.

“So it must be Thane,” the Lady concluded levelly, “that has lost touch with the Force. Has turned away from it.”

Berry stared, eyes widening even more. “Wh-why would he do that?” If she was standing she would’ve taken a step back.

“I never said he turned willingly, now did I?” Morgo responded with cool patience, “No, Thane is like the vast majority of you Force-sensitives—prideful man that he is. Losing the Force would be tantamount to death. And as I’ve often seen when faced with a choice, you lot tend to grasp at the latter… rather than the former.”

Morgo had long ceased to be baffled by such behavior, but it didn’t stop her from the occasional amusement she found in it.

“There are ways to turn a man from the Force.”

At that Berry frowned. “Turn from the Force…like, the way you were forced to?” She shook her head as she studied Morgo. “ ‘Cause like, it took a lot of work to cut you off, right?”

“Yes.” Morgo replied simply, “Nearly killed me, as well.”

Except that wasn’t exactly true, either. The procedure had killed her, after all. But Berry didn’t have to know that.

And unless her father had managed to manufacture his prototype midi-chlorian serum before his rather timely death , which Morgo highly doubted, there was little chance that someone had managed to done something similar to Thane and Bomoor.

Such a crude procedure what have undoubtedly killed them, which Berry would have inevitably felt.

So the answer was much simpler than that, then.

“It is likely that they’ve lost touch with the Force via something temporary and correlated to proximity. As I know of no technology yet with that kind of Force-nulling power,” And at that Morgo smirked, for she would have surely ordered a hundred of such devices, “It must be from a naturally occurring source.”

Tsking with no small amount of derision at the thought of Bomoor and Thane losing their Force powers and folding like flimsy paper cards without them, vulnerable like naked babes without their precious Force, Morgo would have laughed if it hadn’t been so pathetic a scenario.

Waving aside her mental eye-rolling for another time, Morgo’s mind went back to her conversation with Daneel Dreyfus from before—back to the information that had started this whole mission in the first place. Running through the lines of their dialogue, picking each word apart, Morgo recalled Daneel had mentioned that the master of this old imperial penal colony had collected exotic animals, namely the vornskrs—vicious predators that used the Force to hunt.

And then the pieces fell into place.

Morgo smiled like an open wound.

“Ysalamiri.” She said to Berry, whose distress amused her, “That is your answer.”

“Good water to you,” Berry blurted at the sound of Morgo’s sneeze. On Velusia, such a quick expulsion of water warranted a well-wishing of having that oxygenated water quickly replaced. She stared blankly at Morgo, waiting for her to talk more. And waited. “Wait…what?”

Morgo blinked once. Twice. Her expression suggesting that she was reconsidering exactly why she’d woken up for this . This marvelous specimen that truly made one reconsider changing the legality of simply ending someone before they could procreate. Goddess forbid.

“The y-sal-a-miri,” Morgo repeated, slower this time, as if she were talking to a being who was simply a cavernous expanse between two ears, “ Are a species of lizard native to Myrkr, otherwise unremarkable save for their natural ability to create Force-null bubbles that repel the Force up to 10 meters in radius. The more ysalamiri, the bigger the bubble.” Morgo explained smoothly, “They’re presence in Jericho was not expected…thought I suppose now that I think about it, the presence of vornskrs—the natural predators of the ysalamiri—at the facility implies that the ysalimiri could also be present. Most likely to keep the vornskrs in line.”

Or any troublesome Jedi, Morgo thought to herself with a secret smirk.

“I’m afraid your Thane and Bomoor have been compromised.” She sighed with artificial lament.

Berry frowned, lips parting as she stared. “Are you…are you sure?”

“Yes.” She said with quiet confidence, “Otherwise, rather than the emptiness you feel from your bond now, you’d be feeling immense pain.” Morgo said, smiling, “After all, the Mandalorian Exiles who have Bomoor and Thane do not take kindly to those who invade their space. And they deal even less kindly to those intending to steal from them.”

Morgo’s expression was inscrutable as she looked at Berry, save for her eyes, which seemed to say that such a fate for Thane went over quite well with her. Of Bomoor she had no opinion, other than the fact that perhaps a death now was merciful. To live to see what his friend would become was a death in itself, she supposed, for those that felt allowed themselves to feel so deeply for others.

“Now if you’d like to celebrate your new release from your bond, I prefer tea at this hour.” Morgo said with a casual imperiousness that she knew would go right over Berry’s head, watching Berry’s shocked expression change with every word she spoke.

“But if not,” she intoned, low voice like velvet, smiling lazily, “You’re welcome to leave. I need my sleep. And I do believe I’ll be sleeping much sounder than I had before.”

Berry shook her head, her single braid flipping a bit. “Morgo, we can’t sleep now.”

Her expression had settled now…the clouds above her brow dark from the impending squall, waves calm like before the storm—the storm of action.

Berry gazed steadily at the “sleepy” Morgo. “They’re in trouble. And without a connection to the water current, they’re as bad as sitting ducks.” She would’ve thought about the tasty woodfowl Thane had spoken of before, but now was not the time.

“On the contrary, Berry. Thane is gone, beaten, never to return. This is the perfect time to sleep.” Morgo countered coolly.

At that, Berry blinked and frowned even deeper. “It’s not!” she protested. “Aren’t you supposed to be a person that thinks a lot?” She gesticulated with her hands, sea-grass skirt swaying as she did. “They’re in trouble, and you’re not.”

“Yes, they are in trouble, while I remain safe.” Morgo agreed, face impassive,“So tell me... why should I risk my life to save a man who threatens me?”

She frowned at Morgo, not petulantly but rather in a kind of…disappointment. As if Morgo should’ve known better. “You were where they were yesterday, Morgo, gone from your world, beaten into darkness, running and never returning.” She wiggled a finger at the former duchess. "And you're gonna stay that way if they don't come back. Mr. Rezer isn't really that nice of a guy, and I'm a fish outta fresh water—I can't protect you that well, either." She continued to frown, lips pouting just a little.

“Rather limbo than a man to lord over me.”

Berry’s golden-green cheek puffed in exasperation as she fully pouted, hands resting on her slim hips. “A man who is still a person just like you!” She turned her head, gazing sternly at Morgo as if daring her to challenge that. And knowing the sassy Shady Lady, she probably would.

Morgo's brow lifted a fraction, seemingly communicating all the condescension she felt for the subject matter in that small movement, "Are you truly trying to appeal to my humanity, girl?" She asked, darkly amused, "Thane and Bomoor knew what they were getting into when they left for Jericho. That they managed to fail and get themselves most likely caught is simply a turn of events. He is a person that made his decision when he chose to rush head on into hostile territory without further preparation. It was his choice. Now let him die with it."

The part-Aquar’s eyes widened as she stared at the woman. Then she sighed. “He coulda left you behind and you would’ve been caught. Now you’re paying him back by not paying him back?” She shook her head, frowning out of confusion. “You think funny.” Then she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, turning down the hall…and walking past her room as she continued to the pilot’s cabin—Sev’s room.

Repaying Thane, Morgo thought to herself quietly as she watched Berry disappear through her doorway with a her petulant stomp, is exactly what I am doing.

Blinking slowly, Morgo turned out the light and lowered herself back down onto the bed. Staring at the black ceiling, unseeing, she thought back to the recent (and troubling) HoloNet broadcast she’d had the misfortune of watching.

Dromache’s Grandsire, Egon Jotunnson II had gone before all the galaxy and soundly aired all of her private matters in the open public. Frowning into the dark of her cabin, Morgo tsked with irritation. The king had no doubt planned this declaration well, effectively cutting out 80% of those who would help her in the galaxy. Unless she wanted to go around handing millions to each of those who happened to recognize her, paying people off was now out of the question. Morgo may have been rich beyond belief, but she wasn’t about to go about redistributing such glittering wealth to the scum of the galaxy.

The Grandsire had even addressed Thane directly, urging him to do the right thing and turn Morgo in. Executed to perfection, Egon’s little speech had been so utterly honest, so magnetic, so arresting, that throughout it Morgo had to continuously tamp down on her urge to vomit.

Even more troubling, however, was this talk of a Dromachean bounty hunter, specially picked for the job of hunting Morgo down and apprehending her. Had it been any other bounty hunter, Morgo would have paid it no mind. But the Grandsire had known Morgo would be watching his declaration. She knew him, just as he knew her. And his special emphasis and confidence that this bounty hunter, this particular bounty, would bring a swift end to her continued resistance, was telling.

When she had realized just who it was that Egon had sent, she had felt a chill settle at the bottom of her stomach. And it lay there still. Could it be that the Grandsire had sent him? Of all hunters?

Morgo cut that line of thought before it could continue any further, the weight in her stomach growing too akin to dread for her tastes. And fear had never been one of her favorite emotions.

Yet that hadn’t been the most unsettling of things in the Grandsire’s HoloNet broadcast.

Egon had predicted her treachery, her inevitable betrayal of Thane. Because at its essence, as she lay in her bed, surrounded in darkness, that was exactly what she was doing--betraying both Thane and Bomoor with her inaction, her refusal to aid them. Some scientific interests were worth dying for. Some weren’t, and as if he had known that she would come to this conclusion, the Grandsire had pinpointed her exact actions and broadcasted them to the entire galaxy.

And if there was anything she hated more than being used, in the way Thane intended to do, it was doing exactly what a Jotunnson expected of her.

Morgo sat up once again as she looked down at her hands, her hair slipping from behind shoulder to curtain the side of her face as she stared into the palms of her hands. Having never worked a day in her life, her hands were soft and unmarred by anything other than old calluses from fighting with her staff.

Yes, she hated that the wretched Grandsire had expected so little of her, and expected her to fall in line with his narrow vision of her. But was it worth dying over?

Logic and experience suggested, no. Thane had attempted to coerce her, and letting him die in his own foolishness was something that she would not have hesitated in doing a year ago, on Dromache, Bomoor being the necessary collateral damage. Yet she was not on Dromache.

And she owed that fact to Thane, no matter his motives. One slight from the rogue Jedi did not warrant death, as it might have on her homeworld. Not when allies were so few and far between in space. And it would do her good to ensure such allies survived, rather than expired, when she could still help it…would it not? Morgo never claimed to be wise. But wisdom did come to her, when she bothered to heed it.

Flicking on her lamp, Morgo swung her bare legs over the side of the bed and stood, her night robe falling down to her thighs as she made her way to the crate at the foot of her bed with haste, her decision made. From it she collected a hypo-spray and six empty refills. Emptying a small med-pack onto the mattress, Morgo selected the essential supplies that would be able to be hidden within the confines of a tight hairstyle—a precaution in the case she was searched and bodily stripped.

The door to her cabin barely opened fast enough to let Morgo through as she swept out and down the hall, her loose hair swaying with every step, not much caring if anyone saw her in the indecent state of dress she was in. Into the medical bay she went, barefoot, not stopping until she reached the refrigeration unit with the ingredients she needed.

Opening the unit, the blast of cold air chilled her bare skin as she snatched bottles from their trays, yet Morgo barely registered anything other than the calculations filtering through her mind, her grey gaze intense as she began to plan.

If she was going to risk her life in mission where the odds screamed suicidal, Morgo was going to make sure she was prepared.

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