"I believe whatever it is within my head is a parasite; a parasite that takes over the host. However, without a connection to the Force with which to take control, it instead found itself trapped - and then I became the parasite." He smiled softly, eyes falling to the floor before looking up as she spoke.
"Not yet. But the more you push, the colder I feel, so if you could not, that'd be fantastic."
A hand came up, and he turned to the right, where a screen lowered to eye level. His hands were wringing together behind his back, and then he finally spoke. "Angel," he says finally, the word coming out like a sigh.
There was a flicker from the circle of thin metal set into the center of the space. A hologram flickered to life, that same admiral now standing behind them at full size. "Yes, Brandon?" She asks, sounding annoyed.
"Play Feed, Dagobah Mission 000." He said it was 'triple zero,' and there was a flicker from the screen before it began to play.
---------
The feed is dark, tinged in static. Breathing is heavy, erratic; it comes through the speakers like the pant of a rabid dog. There's splashes, distant gunfire, the guttural drone of hordes of undead. Somewhere, wings flap, but there's something off about them - you can almost hear the air whistle through the holes in the stretched membranes. Suddenly, like a hole blasted in the side of a starship, voices rush in like the chill of the void as the camera-wearer got within range of the local comms.
Thick Dagobah trees with gnarled roots dominated the feed, and the waist-high water made for slow going, and the landscape made clear why communications were so poor.
The voices overlapped like shouted conversations in a small room, and mingled with the gunfire to create something chaotic and surreal, as though there was simply no way this could be real. Discipline seemed to be nonexistent, but as the voices died out they were replaced by shouted prayers, oaths, curses and screams. One by one, voices were silenced by the crunch of teeth into flesh or in the terror of one final release of the air in the lungs.
Exactly none of it sounded pretty, and it was clear the gunfire was entirely one-sided, as the figure continued his trek forward. Blaster fire was lighting the forest like distant fireworks in the night's sky, but it did little to penetrate the omnipresent darkness of Dagobah.
But as the light seeped in, it became clear something was wrong. The trees were blackened and rotted, as though diseased, and the murky water had become a frothy brine. There were a few roars from up ahead, and the flapping shifted, whatever flying beasts were around angling towards the feed.
"HK, get your men out of there." Sarge said, "I'll draw them off."
The voices changed, from fear to confusion, and slowly discipline was restored as the soldiers attempted to figure out why the enemy was retreating on the verge of overrunning them. A wall of blackness descended on the feed with a screech, and a beam of brilliant blue erupted from the end of an ancient, long barreled blaster, knocking it out of the sky and restoring vision. Taking a few steps back, the gun tracked with the consummate skill of a highly trained mercenary, each shot taking down what appeared to be oversized, necrotic mynocks.
Figures moved in the murk, of all species, and with the sky clear for the moment he turned and ran as the screen faded to static again.
-----
"That is the price." He says, letting the screen go black again. "The price for what I bear. Not everyone survived - HK's entire regiment was just about wiped out, and I spent several years taking the dog tags to the families of those killed that day. They died for his hubris, for you see he ran a blockade without support, landed, and got overrun.
Whatever controlled them, I believe a part of it is in my head now. But since they died out as the battle ended, I'm not sure just how many 'generals' they really had."
