Dark Days

[Revenchent]

"It needs something if we are going to continue present output levels. It needs motivation." Edicon, head of biological studies, rumbled. The Architects marched around the chambers that held their current harbinger on stilt legs. "It needs...hope."

The facility was a greenish white that hurt the eyes of most organics. The single circular chamber that Edicon stood in front of was the only outlier. Each corner of the small room was shrouded in complete darkness. In the center, a powerful light bore down upon the current Harbinger. Each time he stood up to escape the illumination, the light followed.

"It needs to be further sedated, unless you want to corrupt the genome." His assistant garbled in a voice not unlike that of the Selkath.

"I hold authority here. Sedation will kill the subject. Transport it to Mandalore. Inform its mate."



The message was a short one. There was no traceable address, nor were there any forms of formality. All that came with the message was an attached set of coordinates, leading to the middle of a forest some twelve miles outside Kurs'taylir.

"Hey, it's Cal. Come to the coordinates within the week -Mandalore time. I only have a little bit of time; hurry."

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

The message said it was from Cal. She had heard it so many times since receiving it. Dozens, hundreds. Who knew anymore. When she'd gotten it, she was on the edge of losing hope, of letting him go, calling herself a widow and mourning in her own way. It might have been kinder, after all this time. Rawnie already said her father had left and was probably with another woman by now. Her son had gotten himself into trouble trying to find him.

And Zandra was.... lonely. She'd withdrawn. From family, from friends, the crew, everyone. Cal wasn't just her husband. He was her reason for being where she was. Without him, she'd probably be dead. He and the kids, they were why she tried to keep moving, survive at all costs. Now that she had Rawnie and Corrin, suicide was out of the question. With or without Cal, she had to keep on.

She'd been laying on her bunk when she'd gotten the message. Out in the black of space, it wasn't easy to receive messages. But this one had come in. This one she heard. She clutched the jacket that Cal had given her so many years ago, patched and repaired from wear so many times. She heard it. Listened.
Cried.

Here she was now. Zax the Beautiful was not really beautiful. It never was, never would be. It made her job easier. Nobody messed with an ugly ship. She tore though the atmosphere of Mandalore, patched jacket hanging loose around her petite form.
Could be a trap. She'd considered it. For all she knew, she was flying right into her death. Didn't matter anymore. Lady luck was her Goddess. Life was a game. Every day was a gamble, a new hand. This was no more a gamble than getting out of bed. She was willing to call the bluff.
She had to. This was her last thread of hope. She would cling to it until it snapped and she plummeted into the dark depths below.

"I'm comin' Cal," she whispered, following the coordinates to the last decimal point, "I'm comin'. Always will."

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

Every day went by without thought. The world of the Architects was timeless, a void in the stream of temporal progress that the rest of the galaxy lived within. A world that few races could ever hope to understand, and Calico did not happen to be one of them.

Sleep was a rare commodity. Breaks from the constant tests: the taking of blood, the physical evaluations, the drugging, all even more exotic to the former Dreadguard. Rarely was he ever afforded a moment's reprieve, and he was never entirely lucid when he was given such gifts.

That was why this was different. he could breathe correctly, and his limbs were his own. The Architects had just...left him here in the middle of the forest with his old DC-17 and a tent. Supplies were within, and a faint perimeter had been erected to keep the wolves from being too much of a bother.

He pulled at the gray jacket they had given him, and ran a hand through his short black hair. The DC-17 trembled in his hands as the bitter cold chilled his bones. They had forced him to write a message to his wife. At first, he had refused. So far as he knew, she had moved on, and he had no desire to break her with false hopes. A hot wire to the spine had quickly changed that thought process.

He was supposed to wait for her. The Architects were offworld, leaving faint trackers in the snow to make sure he did not leave the site. Why they wanted him here, he did not know. It was likely another test, some karked up game the cyborgs were playing.

Still, Zandra might appear...if he was lucky.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

Her ship touched down a decent distance away in a clearing. Not many clearings to speak of out here, so she had to make do. But she'd been sure to pack well, but pack light. No extra eight. She had her comm, her locator, a small sack with miscellaneous supplies, and her knives. No blaster. Too much noise. Might alert an enemy if this was a trap.

She left her ship behind her and headed into the forest, one hand buried deep in Cal's jacket pocket, the other on her locator. She followed the directions, heading to the exact coordinates. She'd find him, or she'd find someone to kill. That was the only way this could go down. She'd written him so many times. Never a single reply. If he was there, if he was alive, she wanted to make sure he read them. He had to know she'd been looking for him, missing him.
He had to know.

By the time she arrived at the location, the sun was getting low in the sky. Sundown in a few hours. She was low on time here. Her feet were light, cautious. She watched her step, her every movement. Not a sound. That was key. She pressed her back up against a tree when she finally reached the location indicated by the message. No sign of Cal. Just a tent. Just a tent and...

She moved her head around a little further. Her heart skipped.

"Cal." His name escaped her lips before the usually cautious Echani could stop it. Traps be damned. "Cal!"
She threw her bag down, rushing towards him with outstretched arms and blurry eyes.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

This was a terrible lie. It was the only explanation did what was happening. The Architects had moved him into another one of their hallucinatory chambers, or drugged him into his own little world. Any moment now, they would drag him out from the dream back into the cold reality of his cell. Stark white walls and a terribly blinding light were all that kept the Tal'verda Chieftain company in his prison.

That did not mean he would not indulge in the illusion. His steps were sluggish as he sloshed through the snow. His legs ached from disuse. Everything felt hazy, as if the unclean, wild air of Mandalore was enough to intoxicate the senses. Perhaps it was.

"Cyar'ika." He whispered more than he said. The raspy weakness in his own voice surprised him. "You-"

Whatever more he intended to say was lost as the petite woman crashed into him. Cal hesitated for a long moment, unsure whether to embrace the woman or ready for another disaster.

Tentatively, his arms slipped around her waist.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

Zandra was not a woman who could be brought to tears by much. Even the pain of childbirth did not bring even a glitter to her eye. Yet, here and now, in the arms of her lover, she found herself weak and weeping. Pathetic. She had to get a hold of herself. So much emotion, so much weakness. This was not like her. Not even close.
"Cal..."
And why couldn't she say anything else? Just his name, over and over. It was stupid! She buried her face in his chest, squeezed him tighter, afraid he was an illusion, that he might vanish. Again. She wanted to ask. So many questions. How could she ask? Where to even start? It had been so long. And then out of the blue...

"I looked for you," she whispered into his chest, "Every single day."

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

She acted too much like Zandra. The Echani was too real to be some kind of an illusion. The woman smelled like Zandra, her movements were too akin to that of his wife. Whatever the Architects were doing, it seemed that they were serious when they stated they wished to give him some form of recreation.

That recreation had him off of their ship, and opened up the possibility for escape. It would not be entirely difficult with Zandra's help. They only needed to disable the minimal security system that his jailers had put in place to keep him within the camp. The cyborgs underestimated the Tal'verdas.

"I tried to send messages, but they wouldn't let me." He grunted , trying to force out the raspy whisper in his voice. "The Architects. The droids that built the Dreadguard - they scooped me out of hell... Or whatever that place was."

Cal shrugged. His complexion was far paler than the usual, like that of a long forgotten corpse. Whether that was the elements or some kind of illness was hard to tell.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, curling her blond locks between his fingers. "Are the kids alright?"

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

"I'm... The kids are..."

Her tears had dried some, after finally being able to convince herself to calm down. Cal wasn't crying, and clearly he had been through to worst of it. What right did she have to get emotional here? She looked up at him through her pale eyelashes. He was... unwell. Or at least he looked unwell, sounded unwell too. His normally sunkissed skin was pale as a corpse, his voice was little more than a whisper in the wind. She reached up, placing a hand on his cheek.

"When ya disappeared, so did Rawnie and Corrin. I thought that perhaps you'd taken 'em out somewhere and forgot to tell me. Then I got to the village and... Half Mandalore was gone. I dunno what I thought then, but when I heard that half the damn Galaxy went missin'... "

She paused, biting her lip at the memory. She'd been a mess. Ticked off more than a few of Cals people, including the Mandalore himself at the time. Good riddance. Man was worthless in a crisis. Never trust a leader to do what needed to get done. They always wanted to sit and have a tea party, instead of rolling up their sleeves and gettin' to work.

"The kids came back, but you never did. I tried to keep it together, Cal, I did. But after a while, I couldn't keep sayin' you'd come back any day now. I couldn' keep sayin' you'd be found safe n' sound. Rawnie started sayin' you probably had another family out there. Corrin tried to run away to look for ya. An' I... I was startin' to think you'd passed on. Never considered this..."

She'd known Cal wouldn't abandon her and the kids. Not for anything if he could help it. It had left her to the conclusion that he was either dead, wandering the Galaxy without his memory, or in very serious trouble. Without a single clue to go off of, all she'd been able to do was look and pray. Every single day.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

Calico had surmised that his wife had suffered. He'd been abducted without explanation. Netherworld was hell, in the literal sense, and even then it was not as bad as the Architects. Never before was he subjected to such torments. The creators of the Dreadguard were cold, unfeeling creatures. They cared not for the well being of their subjects unless it hampered progress.

Apparntly, Calico's had.

"The Architects took me soon after I escaped from Mandalore. They tracked me somehow, though I don't know exactly how. I have no idea why they took me, but I have a few guesses." He managed, some of his strength returning to him. It was more out of a need to comfort Zandra, rather than his own recovery.

His voice steadied as he spoke. He leaned down to scoop the Echani up into his arms - something he'd always done to show his affections. His arms were weaker than before, but Cal still maintained some of his residual strength. So long as she didn't protest, he would hold her bridal style, and turn toward the tent.

"Are you okay, love?"

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

What he had gone through, Zandra could not know. Only vague guesses were all she had. For the time that he was away, she'd only had those cold guesses to lay with her late at night. She'd stare at the ceiling for hours, imagining every scenario, going through what she would tell the kids if she found a corpse instead.
's'aright,' she'd tell him, 'Ya still got me. When we burn his body, don't look away. Ain't respectful to look away.'
That was all she could ever think of to say. It was pathetic.

She allowed him to scoop her up. She hated it, always had, but she knew it made him feel strong and maybe that was what he needed to feel right now. She laced her arms around the back of his neck, holding him tight, nuzzling him. More affectionate than she'd ever been, really. She was shocked he didn't find her behavior suspicious.

He was weak. Something had drained him. She could feel it in every step he took towards the tent. They... did something to him. The horrors of his ordeal were unspoken, even now, but she would find a way to get him to come out about it. She wanted to help, wanted nothing more than to ease his pain, whatever that pain was.

"I'm a'right now," she answered slowly, "There's... so many questions. So many... For now, I'll settle with, how are you feeling?"

It was so hard not to jump right to the important questions. What happened to him? Where did they take him? How did he escape? Did he escape? Why was he out here with just a tent and a few supplies? Why were they not heading right to her ship?
She knew she would not like the answer to any of it, and it was important to ease into things. Calico had clearly been through a lot and she would be doing him no favors by bombarding him with questions.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

Calico was the antithesis to the force. It did not touch him, did not hold him or his destiny captive like it did the rest of the galaxy. Not even his children were free from its oppressive embrace. It was something that always nagged at him. Yet, at the moment, he felt something off in the air, a sensation he would only ever attribute to that of a Jedi's connection to the invisible energy field.

Zandra was being far more affectionate than her usual self. He'd always picked her up because she always whine when he did so. She never cried, he had never seen her do so, not once, yet she openly wept when they were reunited. He was always the emotional one in their relationship.

As he settled the Echani down on one of the two seats within the tent, the second filled by himself, he realized just how much his disappearance had effected his wife. A stab of guilt shot through his chest, like a knife being driven right through his heart. He should have been more perceptive. He never should have been captured to begin with.

"Better now that you're here." He said in a teasing lite, trying to retain his good humor that had so long since been unused. He reached over to take her hand, the callouses and scars on his fingers all too familiar to the touch. "I am...okay. The group that abducted me, the Architects, created the Dreadguard back in the old days. They worked with the CIS to dominate the galaxy. Because of Verd, their plans failed."

He shrugged. "I've no idea why they've taken me, but they have sensors around the camp...the best time to try and beat them would be night fall." He offered a small slip of a smile, and locked eyes with Zandra. "Don't cry cyar'ika-" He reached over to trace a thumb across her cheek. "You know nothing can kill me."

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

When he set her down, her eyes never left him. She was so reluctant to let him go, even for a moment now. She'd watch his every movement, just in case he wanted to disappear on her again. She was finished weeping, but her eyes still glittered. Her tears were not for anything more than anger now though. So much lost time. So much harder she'd been forced to work. And the kids, they'd missed him so much. Rawnie was angry, Corrin was worried.

All this, and for what? What was so important that her husband would be dragged away from him life? What did they do to him? She clenched her fist on her lap while he took her other hand in his. He'd missed so much. Nothing could make up for the lost time. The pain she could handle. She was a tough woman, used to it. But time? That, she was never getting back.

He touched her face and she felt herself calm almost immediately.

"I ain't cryin'," she lied, "It was the wind. Got somethin' in my eye."

Of course he wouldn't buy it. That was a terrible excuse. She squeezed his hand, searching his deep brown eyes for any sign that he'd be leaving her again.

"The suns settin' soon," she reminded him, "We wait until then? You got a plan?"

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

How to take care of the Architects? Their technology was vastly superior to anything that could be found on Mandalore. Their chassis block lightsabers and direct explosive without a scratch to be seen. These creatures were monstrous in combat - so they would just have to avoid it.

Cal offered a warm smile as she squeezed his hand. Zandra was his other half. No other person in the galaxy could understand what he wanted and needed like the Echani. He would trade anything in the world for more time with her - save for their children, whom he adored just as much.

"Definitely the wind. In the tent. Tent wind." He winked, and leaned forward. His voice dropped to the softest of whispers, and his lips trailed across her cheek in what would look like an act of intimacy to anyone watching. "How far is your ship cyar'ika?"

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

The Echani knew this game. They were being watched then, weren't they? She closed her eyes with a weak smile as he whispered in her ear, as if she were experiencing something very intimate. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek while her other hand tapped his hand three times. Three. Three miles. He would either get it, or she'd have to find a way to get the message across some other way.

"Can you handle it, darling?" she purred in a low tone, trying her best to sound seductive to an outside listener, but concerned enough that Cal would understand the question she was really asking. Was he well enough to make that hike? "It's been so long..."

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

The Architects were getting sloppy . At least, that was how it seemed to the former Dreadguard. In the past, their security drones would have been waiting just beyond the edge of the camp, monitoring everything that went on around the makeshift settlement. Now there was nothing but himself, Zandra, and a handful of holocams that could easily be fooled.

Perhaps something had happened to the Monitor?

It was an uncomfortable thought, but if that provided Calico with an advantage here, he would be grateful. Anything to get out of this hell.

"I believe so love." He mumbled, taking the hint. Three. Three kilometers, maybe. That was how he chose to take it.

"Shall we?" He asked in a breathy whisper, shifting his gaze pointedly to a makeshift shiv he'd carved from a fallen branch.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

She followed his gaze, blinked back up to him, nodding with her eyes rather than her head.

"Mmm, someone's frisky tonight," she teased, reaching down her own leg to a knife strapped to her thigh. She leaned in, closing the short distance between them to press her lips briefly against his. A good luck kiss. Zandra trusted Lady luck, but a little extra couldn't hurt. If they failed, if this was a trap, it might be the last time.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]