Fiction Gallery

Von Ricmore Clan Vizsla Kalevan Star Yacht, Batuu Space

Von Ricmore was a man of patience. While his comrades had spent the previous month hunting down the target of the fifth Great Hunt, Captain Mar’Vel, he had been content to wait. His visions had instructed him that Mar’Vel would not yet be found but the time to hunt was rapidly approaching.

The Sith knew he had to be the first to reach the target. It wasn’t a matter of glory or honor; it was simply efficient. Tensions had been running high after Mar’Vel’s ability to elude the Clan for so long. Von had no doubt that most of his compatriots would not hesitate to bring Mar’Vel in cold after all the trouble she caused. Such a death would be a waste in the eyes of the Anzat. Mar’Vel could serve as an excellent scout and source of information; her ability to elude capture would aid her greatly in that role. Clan Vizsla would have to dissuade the Epicanthix of her hatred, but such a thing was not impossible if enough time, resources and effort were applied.

Mar’Vel could furthermore aid in the Clan’s securing of Daemun. The ex special forces soldier could convince the Daemun Wayists to stand down, ending a potentially costly guerilla war before it even began.

But first Von had to capture the target alive, a difficult feat made easier by the power of the Force; for the Force was his ally, and a powerful ally it is.

The Sith had prepared a ritual to narrow the focus of his Farsight. The room selected for the ritual was deep inside the ship, devoid of any distractions. A circle had been drawn in the room using the blood of several Convor’s. The creatures were known to have a connection to the Force and would serve as a way to amplify and direct his vision. 2 different brands of incense filled the room. One was taken from Iktochi culture, a species known for seeing the future through dreams. The other was taken from Skakoan culture. The religious Skakoans worshiped a prophet said to be able to see the future. The incense would help Von activate his Farsight on command.

The Sith kneeled in the center of the circle and breathed deeply. The incense filled his nose and mouth as his eyes began to blur. Closing his eyes in a blink, he opened them to find himself on Batuu. He recognized the trading post of the Black Spire Outpost as his ship was currently moored there. His surroundings weren’t entirely solid; they wavered as if in a dream.

“It worked.” Von mumbled to himself pleased with the endeavor. “What do you have to show me?” He asked the Force.

His surroundings shifted as the Force whispered to him. No words were used by the mysterious energy source but a sharp feeling to head North filled the Anzat. The buildings of the Black Spire Outpost were replaced with small wood and mud houses of a similar style. The settlement was filled with a variety of vehicles, cobbled together from whatever scrap the settlers could find. One house in particular stood out to him, the Force showed him a building with a concealed symbol of the late Empire. He watched a small group of Storm Commando’s led by Mar’Vel in her modified Storm Commando armor enter the building.

Von woke with a gasp as his eyes opened wide. He knew what he had to do.

Renting transport to the northern town, Galma, was of no difficulty. It cost more than the Anzat would prefer to pay but time was of the essence. He arrived in the town an hour later, stepping off the transport and into the shadow of a nearby building. Wrapping himself in the Force, Von disappeared from view.

He made his way to the house and tried to open the front door; locked. The time for subtlety was over. Drawing his Sith Alchemy Sword in his right hand he uncloaked and gestured with his left hand. The shabby door was ripped off its hinges and flew inward, crashing into and crushing an unsuspecting Storm Commando. The inhabitants were all ex Empire special forces and had drawn their weapons as the Sith entered. E-22 blaster rifles fired a deluge of fire at the Sith, forcing him to backpedal as his sword intercepted bolts. Mar’Vel brandished a TL-50, letting loose a charge shot. Von intercepted the shot with his sword. The concussive force of the shot made him stumble backwards as the sword was torn from his grip.

Pooling the Force in his lungs Von let loose a primal scream. Mar’vel and those next to her stopped firing, several clutched their heads in pain. Von breathed ragged breaths as his lungs burned from the Amplified scream.

He reached out his left hand and pulled one of the Storm Commando’s towards him. He activated the Knuckle Plate Vibroblade on his right arm and impaled the throat of the soldier flying towards him. The soldier gurgled, choking on blood as Von held him in front of him, telekinetically using him as a body shield. The sith drew four of his throwing knives before sending the body flying into the group of Storm Commando’s. He let the knives fly in a fan, the blades finding purchase in areas not covered by armor.

Stars filled Von’s eyes as a fist slammed into his face. A fist that belonged to Mar’Vel who jetpacked forward and slugged him. Electricity ran along Mar’Vel’s gauntlets as the Epicanthix sent the voltage into Von. The sith spazemed before grasping the Force and cutting off his sense of pain.

“Did you think I’d give you the opportunity to scream again?” Mar’Vel asked, as she wrapped her hands around Von’s throat and began to choke the life from him. “Did you think you could attack me, kill my men and get away with it? I’m Captain Mar’Vel Wonder; you’re nothing but another number to be.”

Fortunately for Von the Sith had no intention of attempting another Force Scream. He couldn’t feel the electricity or lack of oxygen, but he had seconds before his body would shut down. Shifting his foot, he ejected the blade kept in his boot. He grabbed Mar’Vel’s head before pulling her in for a headbut. Disoriented, the Epicanthix was pushed off the Anzat.

Von swung his leg around, kicking the blade into Mar’Vel’s throat. The Epicanthix grabbed at her throat as blood pooled in her hands.

“No no no Shit.” Von rasped as he grabbed the dying Mar’Vel. He had to act now, before Mar’Vel died. Once she passed he would have no power over her fate. His neck and lungs throbbed but his own pain would have to wait, he would need all his focus and ability to channel the Force for what came next.

Von drew the remaining life force from the dying Storm Commando’s, using it alongside his own energy to rapidly heal the cut on Mar’Vel. The wound would scar and still looked raw, but Mar’Vel was no longer in danger from bleeding to death.

Von collapsed into a sitting position against the wall of the house. He activated his communicator, using the frequency reserved for the Clan Vizsla Summit. “It’s Von.” he rasped “I could use some assistance, Galma town on Batuu.” His hand slipped off the commlink as his vision swam. He could hear the muted sounds of the Summit but could not make out any sound. The Anzat passed out from exhaustion, trusting the Summit would find him soon.

"What is this?" Bentre marveled out the viewport.

"It looks like a rainbow." Darkhawk marveled from his seat aboard the bridge of the Perdition. "Or the surface of a lake."

"That is no lake," the Consul breathed. "That is like an ocean."

The clacking of boots on the floor plates caused the Corellian Sith to look sideways. His fleet commander, Araic Simonetti was standing at attention, carefully watching the Sadowan Overlord. "Science teams are reporting an electrical disturbance within proximity of the anomaly, sir."

The Adept sighed, looking at the rippling surface. For the first time in years, he felt small. The galaxy was already a big place, but he had managed to eek out a position and authority over the Orian system. He had access to untold records as the Master of Holocrons and had studied a lot both in personal academic pursuits as well as his research for the Aurora Collegium and the Shadow Academy.

"Is there any way that we can send someone out there to get some more accurate measurements?"

"Ships are expensive, Overlord. I don't know how willing that a pilot would be to risk their lives in the face of this." Araic motioned at the large viewport. "Fighting for the system or the Clan is one thing, but this is more of a force of nature than-" He paused, his eyes searching the kaleidoscope of light that stretched before the Imperial-II Star Destroyer. "This is more of a force of nature. There is no fighting this."

"Are you preemptively refusing an order, Simonetti?" There was no mirth or curiosity in the Sith Consul's words. He locked eyes with the Admiral. The Loyalist did not look down, did not look away, nor turn his face in the slightest. The tension between the two was palpable. For a moment, it appeared the understanding between the unstable Sith and the naval officer. The words hung in the air to the point that Bentre Sadow could feel the eyes of the bridge officers on the both of them. He tilted his head, raising his eyebrows to silently request an answer once again. The two had bonded over stories of home long ago, but it appeared that the goodwill of the Orian system's dictator had its limits.

"I am merely making an observation, Overlord."

The tension did not ease. Bentre felt his lip curl in a combination of disgust and frustration. He lifted his hands for a moment, trembling slightly before he found his peace. Instead, he pointed emphatically at the starscape before them.

"There are shapes out there. Strange stars. There are doubtless planets. There could be life out there. The Headmistress will want to know what is out there. The Grand Master will want to know what we have found."

"So we must return to Arx." Simonetti stiffened slightly at this. He clearly anticipated an outburst. Instead, the Sadow crumpled slightly and shook his head.

"I can't just leave this here."

"I can't order my men into such uncertain death. I refuse to take the Perdition into unknown space without having some sort of reconnaissance. There are too many lives, and the ship is too expensive. Even if you had the credits to make up for the potential lost vessel, there is too much at stake."

Bentre Sadow looked out at the viewport, silent. Eventually, Darkhawk Sadow spoke up in a quiet tone. "What are you orders, sir?" This actually made Bentre smile slightly. If nothing else, Takagari had always proven himself to be loyal and dutiful. He considered the words before shrugging. He even dipped his consciousness into the Force.

The space beyond the veil was vacant in the Force. It was not as though there was nothing out there. A nearby star blazed vividly within a quick hyperspace jump. There was no sense in the Force, however. For the first time, he felt nothing there. It was as though the Force did not touch the world beyond the veil, despite binding the galaxy together.That sense was alien to the Adept. Whatever was beyond this barrier was the ultimate unknown. The Elder was shaken to his core.

"There is nothing for it, Takagari." He nodded at the Proconsul. "Have the crew prepare my shuttle. There is a lot of space out there. Someone has to explore it. There is a solar system nearby. Have the Perdition hold position here, and if I do not return within 48 hours, then I want you to return to the Orian System. The Clan will need a new Consul, and you have access to my archives and the museum." Bentre nodded at the viewport. "I am going to go out there. Someone has to bring word back, and if our men are unwilling to risk the unknown, then it is up to me. I will go along, into the breach."

There once was a grand master that grew a beard Which lords and ladies feared So two Prophets and a Equite, Four GMs and a Knight, Also grew themselves a beard!

Manually added by Adept Atyiru Caesura Entar Arconae

Manually added by Adept Atyiru Caesura Entar Arconae

One day, a General Jar Jar became, Heroic acts bring him fortune and fame, Many children delighted, While others derided, and poor George took all of the blame.

Manually added by Ranger Creon

There was a old man on a throne Who looked just as old as stone. He had a granddaughter Who committed manslaughter
Then he was turned to unknown.

For Emily:

Together Complete Apart, unbroken silence The sea without waves

To my eternal love Springs longing and regret An angel sent from above

love to me is a cactus flower a beauty in whispering sands a sunset kaleidoscope

I see the broken parts of you sharp as thorns but they are still parts of you as I want to be a part of you

but that flower rests on thorned bed as I return to whispering sands alone

Atra why don't you show Me the truth of what we know I am the real Mav

Zig's heart grew up, Archian's paw hold her. Her blood heated up.

If my heart could speak It would shout your name, My love, I would risk my life's flame To climb that highest peak; To reach the furthest shore If only to rest my lips upon your cheek And speak to all who would listen Of your perfection.

I remember well that morning We met while I sat scorning This galaxy, its cruel nature And fate, a wild creature That hunted my soul like a wounded beast. Yet I looked up - and there, for all to see A feast of beauty, raw and pure Of perfection. It was then I fell Into your embrace My heart it raced And there, in the door of this abode Upon the shores of this distant world My heart spoke your name For the first time.

My heart, it could speak My heart, it did seek And now it has found It's single lost key You, my love, complete me. I love you.

This is a bit bizzare, Bentre thought to himself. What is a guy to do when he has two spirits in his head?

These are the times, Kairn'tel, when you have to seize control. The dark voice of his family's oppressor pushed at the back of his head.

"Defiler!" The gravelly voice of something unbidden escaped from Bentre's lips. "You have no power here!"

Do you really think that this is the first time that this one has had the presence of another in his head? His voices alone are enough to drive one mad. The old spirit groused. Well, crazier, if it were possible.

Bentre gripped the table, grinding his teeth together. "This is too much already! I have an Empire to rule. What do the two of you expect to get out of me.

Power. The old spirit groused. The sort that Tasha'Vel and her grandfather could never have imagined. I want to grant you the strength to make the Dark Council bow to your will. Imagine, the likes of Pravus, Mav, even the Keibatsu groveling at your feet, waiting for your commands.

"What sort of drivel is he asking of you, this pretender!?" The new spirit jeered. "I have access to powers, to spells, to rituals the likes that you would never experience with the influence of one so limited. The secrets of the Force itself are mine to command, and you would bow to this ghost of an oppressor?"

Bentre's mind reeled. His plans were falling apart around him.

I have the plans for superweapons.

"I have ages of medical secrets and arcane mysteries at my very fingertips.

I have already helped to carve out a place for you in your labs, Kairn'tel. Do you think that I would lead you wrong at this time?

"I have," the newer spirit, "access to things that even the Grand Masters do not know. The Children of Mortis, the location of the True Sith, the secret vaults below the surface of Tarthos and many secrets that went to the grave with Urias Orian!" The newer voice cackled with Bentre's voice. "Are you really willing to let all that slip through your fingers?"

What if you let your current work slip? The cool voice of the old spirit Ferras'ota cooed in the former Obelisk's ears. There are still secrets to be uncovered that current medical technology have only started to unlock. Look at the Collegium and it's work. Do you trust that this* thing will possess anything they could not uncover?

"But at what cost?" The new spirit hissed, stressing at Bentre's already raw throat. "What thing has he asked of you?"

The legacy. Ferras'ota grumbled. *All I want is to direct the path of the future and to complete my work. Our ways are similar, Kairn'tel. You know this."

"I...I don't know." Bentre hated to express the weakness in that moment. He shook his head, trying to will both voices to quiet.

"Weakness!" The new spirit shrieked. "Are you truly to heir to the legacy of Urias Orian or are you just a Corellian dog?"

See how it pressures you. We have a history though, Bentre. You know what we seek to complete.

"Time." Bentre gasped. "I need time. I don't have the means of extracting you both yet, and you both have some use to me. I will not force you both out. I will not force one of you out. I will not be commandeered!"

A shrill giggle escaped his lips. "Oh, what are you going to do to stop us?"

A knock came from the door of his office. Bentre cleared his throat, hoping his normal voice would reassert itself. "Come in."

"Sir." It was Takagari. "Is everything alright?"

Bentre waved a hand. "Fine. I am fine. Just having some doubts."

Liar. The newer voice seemed calmed, but the Adept's head pounded. This was going to take some getting used to.

Look not to her den the broodmother of life She desires its warmth and bathe in its strife

Speak not of birth for the children not her own The bringer of life creates form from what is sown

Listen not to the call that siren song she foments It invites the unwitting to her progeny's torments

• A brief canticle of Tunca Selenian origin