Formeri

Posted on Sat Dec 18th, 2021 @ 11:49pm by Thane & Bomoor Thort & Amare

3,981 words; about a 20 minute read

Chapter: Chapter VI: The Last Bastion
Location: Lucazec, Outer Rim Alliance
Timeline: Late Week Three (After "Facsimile")

OLD

Amare could have never imagined just a year ago that she would evolve into a skilled spy and assassin, but there she was, blood on her hands, destruction in her wake, all made possible by a cosmic galaxy-spanning energy field that molded her body with blessings of uncanny abilities and magnifications of her natural talents...

...and she loved every minute of it, and yet, under her fleeting joy on the surface, she couldn't hate herself and what she had become more. And for Serus, she both loved him, and despised him for what he was forging her into. The Coda within wanted to run to the other side of the universe and get as far away from Serus and the Red Raptor as possible. The stronger and dominant Amare, however, held the leash in her mind, and wanted to take her gradual transformation into a supreme being to its darkest extreme. She retired to her room with a smirk knowing that, in either victory or failure for the Sith, one way or another, she was going to have fun on that dark road towards destiny.

NEW

The buzzing of insects, their brightly-coloured wings flapping in the bright midday sun of the temperate day, rose to meet the gentle breeze sweeping across the green fields and sloping hills of the well-kept countryside. For miles all around, farmland and greenery met the eye, with only one small village dotting the nearby landscape, crowned with windmills and the infrastructure of simple agricultural living. Families of slowly-pacing livestock could be heard calling lightly from their herds, whilst the tweeting of birds perching in isolated and floral, bright trees provided an additional pleasant harmony to the beautiful setting.

It was another fine Lucazec day, where the call of children's play would be heard along the cobbled path of the village, if one were to drift a little closer, and only the occasional, rare woosh of jets or engines would be heard over the market vendors' busking for business. And this day, like most that had come before for many years, at least since the terrors of the Second Outer Rim Conflict, was idyllic and settled.

A pink-leaved tree that rested alone atop one of the many grassy hillocks rustled gently above the lone figure sat beneath it, with shadows and light from the sun peppered over her robed form. A makeshift swing dangled from one of the ancient branches, just a few feet from where she knelt, whilst no other hint of society, structure or conflict interfered with her peace and meditation.

So far from the Core and so far from the central worlds of the Outer Rim Alliance, Lucazec, and the agricultural lands dotted across its green and pleasant continents, was a sanctuary from the darkness, injustices and politics of the wider galaxy, far removed and secluded from the interferences of any Jedi or government. It was, to many, a peaceful paradise.

However, even the most idyllic places to live occasionally had a queer twist in the wind. An errant spindrift gnarled with a brief lick of frost entirely alien to current season brushed over the cheeks and antennae of the meditating old sage. A subtle squall lashed at the cherry pink leaves overhead, a few of their stems rotting with unnatural haste causing them to fall; one of which fell squarely upon the sage's shoulder, then a breeze pushed it gently down to her lap.

The leaf was merely the herald of the sounds of boots approaching--two pairs by the sage's learned reckoning. The footfalls grew more and more audible by the second, their patterns were sauntering and rather casual in their earthly impacts. Seconds passed, the pacing divided, one stepping to the sage's left, the other to her right, flanking, eyes upon her with dark intent. The chill in the air had faded, but the feeling in the air was putrid with the sensations of malice, anxiety, and the heavy undeniable weight of the Force itself. A silent maelstrom of power surged between three beneath the solemn tree. The moment of judgment was at hand.

Without deigning to open her leathery green eyelids, the voice of Ise-Kai Formeri, Rift Jedi Consular and self-appointed guardian of the Telos holocron, parted her pointed Rodian lips to speak against the soft winds of the hillside.

“So, someone has finally come to claim the artefact,” her Basic had a slight raspy quality, but was quite plain, “But it was not the Jedi that discovered the forgery. A testament to their blindness.”

She raised her voice a notch, but still knelt in meditation, “So, who believes they possess the clarity of mind to claim this relic of Sith history? Hm?”

With a sharp snap-hiss, a violet plume of plasma erupted from the electrum-plated lightsaber hilt grasped firmly in the gloved hands of the male assailant, who stood silently before the former Reborn Jedi Master. A Human, he had a mess of brown hair that was drawn back and thrown about by the breeze, with stern pale features hidden beneath. Piercing blue eyes, ensconced within a rim of unnatural, gleaming gold, examined the Rodian woman warily.

With the aura of the dark side growing increasingly palpable from the black-clad figure and his young Nautolan companion, it was clear that they were both gifted in the Force and their intent plain. As the man discreetly shifted into a well-practised Niman pose, his familiarity with the Jedi arts also became apparent, even if his affiliations were little more than strong suspicions from the ageing, and now vindicated, Formeri.

"There will be no battle of wills, old master," the man finally said, now stationary, his blade still pointed downwards the moist, lush grass. "Discourse is largely pointless; the holocron will be claimed by its heirs, and your life must end."

As the Human delivered the words, his accent a well-spoken Coruscanti and clipped in its manner, and in spite of his confidence, the almost imperceptible shifts in both his body language and aura, both easily detected by the meditative Rodian sage, easily betrayed his own internal conflict to her. A silence fell after his comment, as a few light flecks of rain began to fall from a darkening sky, occasionally prompting a subtle hiss as they collided with the dark warrior's humming lightsaber.

Whilst her master was in the midst of his standoff with Formeri, his Nautolan apprentice had quietly sidestepped around with practiced grace towards the Jedi's rear flank. Though her shoto was drawn and held with her left hand close to and at chest level, it was not ignited. She had her free right hand held out forward, open palm, almost reminiscent of a defensive Soresu stance, but not quite the same given her aggressive lean towards her target. Her improvised new assassin's form was intended to let her Sith master do the talking and frontal dueling whilst she moved in for an opportunity to strike the Jedi down from behind. The Nautolan was trained well enough to know that even flanked, a true master of the Force was always aware of their surroundings and would likely be able to fight what was in front and behind, but not easily. The apprentice eyed her master, awaiting the moment to pounce.

An almost inaudible sight emanated from the elder Rodian, while her body remained still in its meditative pose, “You are so certain?” she asked, although not awaiting an answer, “The Sith I glimpsed at in this device were also certain of their presumed destiny and yet they are now dead and buried, no different to the plants and animals that lived and died to build the hill we now rest upon.”

Something shifted within the Rift Jedi and seemingly in the ground itself as her eyes shot open revealing dark gaping pupils, “Allow me to save a couple more fools the steps in between.”

She thrust her hand at the ground and a shockwave pulsed through the ground, churning up the earth forcing up great stones to create a barrier on all sides, cutting off both Thane and the flanking Amare. From behind her new wall, Formeri began casting rocks, both great and small outwards in a rain of confusion towards the Sith pair.

The man was quick to respond, spinning his violet blade through a number of the rocks that shot towards him as he cut his way towards the Rodian. Those that he did not strike with the blade that would have collided with him were deflected through feats of the Force. Despite an audible grunt of exertion, there was an ease to the Human's deft movements, as he navigated his way through the onslaught, his blade sliding gracefully through the projectiles. As he brought himself close to the rocky barrier Formeri had raised, the Sith's blade sliced cleanly through it, and the gesture was quickly followed by a Force-imbued palm strike, shattering the boulder into dozens of small pieces and exposing the combatants to each once more.

This time, the warrior made no further attempt at preamble; as the remnants of the boulder flew towards his foe, he threw himself at the Rift Jedi with his blade swinging, seeking to capitalise on the mayhem he had flung back at Formeri.

Fixing him with her gaze, the weathered Force user cast the remaining stones away, flinging them in a shower towards Amare off to her side, while igniting the sagely green lightsaber blade she had produced from beneath her cloak. She drew it across her body and caught Serus' own purple-hued edge. However, she threw herself back, seemingly not interested in close blade combat with the Human, instead whipping her hand around to summon a whirlwind of unnaturally strong wind that shot towards the Sith like a sonic blast, battering them once again with the loose rocks and other debris roundabout.

The wind continued on and struck the great tree behind them on the hillside, causing it to bow and creak with exertion as its strength was tested against the whirlwind's power.

Amare was worse for wear and already brought to her knees a ways back from her master and the Jedi Master. She hadn't been prepared for such a dangerous torrent of nature to come flying so swiftly at her face. Although she had mild precognitive inklings of what was coming, she had zero training for how to cope with it, and her first instinct was to evade as best she could. Her best, however, resulted in her new black form-fitting body suit to be ripped and torn in many spots. There were streaks of blood seeping from multiple lacerations, her black cloak was already torn to shreds, and her head was reeling from a baseball sized bit of earth bashing her skull as she tried to stand from an acrobatic rolling dodge that had saved her life from a sharp fragment that would have otherwise lodged itself in her abdomen.

The Sith apprentice felt a deep rage welling from the bottom of her hearts. Her anger at the powerful Rodian was merely the foundation from which she quickly constructed a tower of malice within the deepest recesses of her mind. Random bad memories quickly added pieces to add to her growing wrath--most especially the humiliation she suffered at the hands of Axion's lieutenant, Nala. Her reward for surrendering to her base emotions was that she became ensorcelled once more by the dark side of the Force. Through mildly blurred vision, she gazed at her hands and could feel them tensing up with roiling heat and could faintly see jagged streaks of energy surging through her nerves. Back on her feet, she summoned her shoto to her left hand, ignited its crisp green blade, and held out her other hand in the direction of the Rodian doing battle with Serus.

"Jedi!!!" Amare screamed with a voracious appetite for revenge as she angled her aim so that her master was not in her line of intended destruction. "Your turn to kneel!" The bolt of Sith lightning, though not quite the most intense or visually impressive display of the iconic dark power, lanced violently at Formeri with years of pain, anguish, and a growing thirst for bloodshed backing it up.

The apprentice Sith's deadly lightning shot towards the Rodian, who was still keeping her gaze fixed upon the master. It seemed as though she would allow the bolt to strike her until, at the last moment, her hand shot out to catch the energy and seemingly twist its trajectory in the air so that it now projected towards Serus. While she showed no signs of pain, the outer layer of her already-leathery skin singed slightly as the edge of the power seared past her palm on its journey.

The speed at which the electricity was redirected towards the nascent Dark Lord seemed to catch him off-guard and hold him in place, as its power and focus was increased by the Rift Jedi's Force mastery. Narrowly raising his lightsaber in time to catch the streaks of electricity, Serus' lightsaber was almost knocked from his grip, but he held the course and growled, with crackles of the dark power licking at his gloved hands, tearing away at the leather material, exposing the robotic digits of one hand, even as the power gradually dissipated.

As the last of Amare's onslaught was channelled, Formeri now spared the Nautolan a glance and, with a look of mild irritation, thrust the young woman backwards with another ferotious blast that locked her against the waving tendrils of the tree. With her other hand, the old sage willed the branches to bend and manipulate until they had wrapped themselves tightly around Amare's limbs like the writhing tentacles of a sarlacc.

To the side, Serus flicked away the few final arcs of Force lightning with his lightsaber, the thunderous sound that had accompanied it finally dissipating into the sound of the rainstorm that had now taken hold above the site of battle. Like Amare, his costume had suffered from Formeri's attack upon them; the flesh of his hands were now exposed and scarred by the redirected electricity originated from his apprentice, and his cape was in tatters, flicking uselessly in the wind. Glowing gold eyes stared at the Rodian through the rain with menace, and in spite of the restraint of Amare, he stalked carefully towards her, but his strides soon sped up into a rapid run, as he looked to close the distance and remove the defensive gap Formeri was insisting upon.

The Rodian set her feet apart, panting as she too recovered from her exertion but braced as she prepared for Serus’ assault. She cast a couple more shockwaves towards his feet, which he sidestepped with ease but allowed her enough time to draw her vibrant green blade and begin bearing it down on the Human before he had a chance to cast a blow.

Their blades clashed once again and their eyes were inches apart, separated by the bright plasma, still fizzing in the rain. They cast a wordless challenge to each other before their two weapons snapped apart again, with Serus launching into an unrelenting assault of sharp Makashi strikes, which nipped at the Formeri’s wide defence.

He was quick and precise at this range, giving the Rift Jedi no opening to turn her hand to the Force once again. She could only brace against the assault and continue waiting. She held firm, in the knowledge that she at least had only one opponent to hold off while his companion was ensnared. She could feel the rain battering down upon her as well and masking her vision, which could have been fatal without her second sight in the Force. It gave her another thought, which she hastened to put into action.

While still focussing intensely on each and every blow from the Sith, she also began to draw heat from the surrounding air and force the water molecules to change to solid form. Creating a sharp and powerful hailstorm, which she whipped towards the Human with great speed in that fraction of confusion that resulted from the sudden chill. While several sharp needles of ice managed to tear further into the man’s already tattered garments, he reacted quickly to sear away the miniscule assault, but not before Formeri had gained some more distance once again.

This time, she did not hold anything back and willed the hillside beneath Serus to break apart, leaving him unstable and vulnerable to more great mounds of stone that came hurtling towards him like devastating meteors.

With Formeri's attention so heavily focused on Serus' relentless offensive in spite of all her best efforts, she found herself vulnerable to a distraction the likes of which she had not expected, but was all too familiar to her. A cry for help growled out in Shyriiwook from all directions, echoing like heavy drumbeats through the fabric of the Force itself, the dying words of a young male Wookie. Formeri, in a sudden bite of torment clawing at her soul, knew the translation of the Wookiespeak plea that threatened to reopen an old wound, "Master...help...HELP ME! Don't leave me!"

Divining the late Wookie's howls as being a cruel dark side trick, the old Rodian stole a brief glance at where she had bound the malevolent Nautolan girl and found naught but the withered remains of the branches scattered on the ground, dried and cracked and in pieces, as if they had been put through months of arid desert-like conditions for months in just seconds.

More Wookie screams shot forth, Formeri could hear the moment when her padawan was torn asunder, and it was at that moment when her sharp master's awareness had faltered and dulled just enough for Amare to put hands ensorcelled with scarlet flames under the pits of the Rodian's arms, then up and reaching to back of the head in an attempt to establish full Nelson hold whilst at the same time having a shin kicked hard in order to try to force Formeri down to one knee. Instantly, the energies of the Force from which the Rift Jedi Master had gathered within her prior to the battle had began transferring to a new owner...a Sith apprentice.

"You abandoned your student," Amare said harshly as she struggled to maintain the hold that she herself had been on the receiving end of back on Lorrd, "didn't you? I know what that feels like, and I will see him avenged."

Formeri could feel her energy being sapped and felt the fear she held back at all times once again lapping at the shores of her consciousness. But she was too weary to feel sorry for herself now and far too old to have some young tendrilled girl tell her what she should be feeling. She allowed herself to be pushed down to her knees but, with that same momentum pulled Amare close so that she could whisper to the youth with her puckered insectoid lips.

“Of course you know what it feels like and you will feel it again and again until you’re carved out to a husk,” she chuckled, feeling the dark energy siphon faltering slightly as she spoke, “I can already feel the cracks beginning to form and I think I might just add one more.”

As she spoke, she felt back along their temporary connection for a fracture in Amare’s mind to shatter. Just as she had hoped, her words had invoked that brewing fear of abandonment and she pressed on that point in the Force to cause Amare’s pain to magnify and the pair of them wrenched away so violently that they were both thrown through the air in opposing directions. This time, it was Formeri’s turn to be thrust against the old tree, which was now askew, barely holding itself in the earth with its remaining roots.

She coughed, feeling the pain in her chest as she did so and tasting the distinctive metallic signature of blood in her mouth. Rolling herself over, she propped herself back and looked up to see a similarly bruised and battered Serus bearing down on her.

His posture was more hunched than before, but it gave the fallen warrior a more menacing and imposing stance as he stalked closer to her, his violet blade held out to the side. His own red blood seeped across his body from dozens of cuts, mixing with the falling rain to saturate his black garments. Just like Amare, Formeri was physically and mentally beaten, the rapid but massively intensive conflict between them all having taken its toll upon the gifted, aged seer.

Serus halted just a few feet from Formeri, who looked up at the Human defiantly, power and determination still glowing brightly in her large eyes. He raised his blade, preparing it for the final strike. Yet, despite all the pain and injuries inflicted upon her, in that moment, Formeri, attempting to rise, once again began to summon the power of the Force, its might welling within her with renewed vigour as her opponent prepared to end her life.

But Serus, unflinching, made no move to attack or escape. Instead, with his eldritch-glowing eyes still staring down at the Rodian Jedi Master, Formeri suddenly jolted forwards, as if struck hard from behind, whilst she barely remained planted on her knees. Her brilliant and life-filled eyes quivered as they broke sight with Serus and looked down to her abdomen. There, one of the roots from the tree behind her jutted out from her midriff, slick with her emerald blood, having impaled her unnaturally through her back.

Blood bubbled at her mouth as the realisation of what her foe had done dawned on her feebling mind, and all of the power she had gathered for a final assault upon Serus ebbed away, along with the last remnants of her life.

Serus disengaged his lightsaber as he watched Rift Master Formeri coming to terms with her impending death, his expression largely unreadable, eyes examining her carefully. "The holocron will be claimed by its heirs," he reiterated to her, his voice little more than a whisper.

Formeri jolted slightly as her diaphragm attempted to cough, managing only a raspy wheeze. Her eyes drifted downwards, catching the faint silhouette of the man's Nautolan apprentice limping up to his side and gazing down upon her dying form. The old Rodian's thoughts drifted away from the dark hillside and she sensed the presence of the young student she had been unable to save so long ago. She felt his embrace, neither forgiving nor vengeful, but just a guiding hand out of this world and into that ethereal realm of the Force.

She drooped, allowing the strength of the old root to hold her full body weight and, as the sensation of the cold rain began to fade, allowed death to take her.

Amare's head was ringing with pain, her vision disoriented, but gradually regaining its stability as she wordlessly looked down at Formeri's corpse as twin streams of blood flowed from her nostrils. Once more, the Force had given her a glimpse of someone's greatest regret or fear, and as before, Amare had used it to her advantage, but this time, it gave her tremendous pause.

A master who failed her apprentice..., Amare pondered as she glanced up at Serus with intent to try to read Serus' final assessment of the battle's outcome. She wondered if he was going to fail her someday, or if she was doomed to fail her own apprentice if it was her destiny to triumph over Serus. Perhaps it didn't matter either way, for tomorrow had not yet been born, and today was a long-overdue day of victory for the Sith Order.

RSS Feed