I Are All We

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

No response came and neither would she hear his feet ticking against the floor to announce his approach.

Because the Sith Lord had collapsed ten seconds after slamming his mind against the duo of beasts standing vigil by the altar.

First on his hands and knees, then his elbows gave out and he slumped against his left side. Eyes closed, teeth gritted as his jaw was set against the tide of pain washing over every single cell of his body. It was cold, resolute, it had no ending and no beginning, it was a tide rising up and dragging him back into the depths.

It was the ocean come again, riding the waves he had cast first by his act.

Carach could not talk, could not speak, could not do so much as lift a finger as a chiming laugh resonated at the back of his head. He forced his eyes open, but he could not see.

His eyes were sapphires unseeing.

 

[Aver Brand]

A Tuk’ata head flopped onto the altar. If Puppy was concerned about the strange markings, she didn’t show it. Bright red eyes scrutinized the black stone, spines rising and falling with deep breaths.

No point to her being there, then. Aver could do plenty and knew a lot, but ancient scribbles of folk tripping on Sith magic wasn’t one of them. She rubbed Shai’s withers and turned to address Carach.

“What the kark.”

He was staring up at her with wide blue eyes, clawing at the dirt. The Sith Lord felt all kinds of wrong – nothing unusual, except the presence was off by miles. Where he’d been flaunting his power to the room a breath before, [member="Carach"] was now barely there.

A tired sigh crawled out of her chest.

“I’d really appreciate it if you let him go?” The merc leaned back against the altar, staring at the man on the floor. There were a couple of things she could do. None of them would be particularly pleasant for anyone involved, and so – against everything he remembered of her – Aver asked.

She asked real fething nice.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

Her words caused the seizure-like movements of his body to suddenly cease.

Calm.

Serene almost... the Sith Lord's eyes shifted from unseeing to sudden, deep clarity in a single moment. The hues of sapphire and crystal intensified as the focus bore down on Aver, a smile pushing itself up familiar lips in unfamiliar fashion. Too coy, too soft and pleasant to pull memories of the smug smirks that Carach usually employed. Even the subtle tilt of the head had nothing to do with the usual grace and power radiating from Carach's every move.

This was not the movements of a predator barely contained.

It was a corruption of it.

"I know you." Carach's mouth moved but it was not his voice. "I have watched over you."

Shoulders shrugged lightly.

"This one is mine. He is my Chosen... you can't have him."

 

[Aver Brand]

“Relax, sugartits. I don’t want him,” the merc replied, voice weary. She was talking to a possessive child squeezing her favorite pet. Even if it killed the puppy – just so long as nobody else got their hands on him.

If this… thing had managed to possess Carach, of all people, Aver stood no chance kicking it out of his head. At least not in any conventional way. And being polite wasn’t paying off either.

So much for that.

“That fine ass belongs to Raj, ‘m afraid. And I’m pretty sure she’d like him back,” she spoke again, bracing against the altar with a sigh.

Nope. She couldn’t crawl into his mind and fight the spirit. Matsu, maybe. Rev, sometimes, when he wasn’t tripping on the Soulsaber. But Aver was shet at mentalism.

And that was a-okay. There were other tricks up her sleeve.

Most people assumed knockouts in a fight happened because the punch someone landed was just so karking strong. They were wrong. It was the speed that did the job – had to catch a bastard right, knock his brain around his skull so fast that they went ‘No thanks, see ya later’, and collapsed.

Lucky for [member="Carach"], he was already on the ground when Aver twisted from the hip, sudden and brief, driving the Force through the movement of her arm.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

A soft chiming came forth from Carach's lips.

It was a pleasant laugh that had nothing in common with the hearty heavy laugh that usually came from him when he found something amusing. It subsided just as soon as it began, implying that it hadn't been all that genuine in the first place or perhaps that the creature moved from one state of mind to the next in no time whatsoever.

"Mmhm, yes, the Shh-" She would not be able to finish her sentence before Aver burst through the room and her fist connected heavily with Carach's body. He was immediately knocked back and dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

KO.

The presence within him suddenly snapped and was nowhere to be found, but for a single shimmering line that went away from the temple. Disappearing amidst sand and atmosphere and the cold void of space, gone before anyone could track it further. The room seemed warmer now with her gone, more empty too, as if a thick presence had simply been swept away by a forceful breeze. It was even easier to breathe now that it was past them.

 

[Aver Brand]

If she were someone else she might’ve raced after the silver sliver; rushed after it through the black between the stars.

Instead, Aver dropped to a crouch, rubbed her faceplate, and gave [member="Carach"] a light slap. (Second time today? Third? It was becoming a worrying pattern – tough, granted, this time he was out cold because of her. But still.)

“Mornin’, princess,” she gruffed, yanking him to his feet none too gently. Seemed like the possession was the last thing on the menu today – high time they got something done instead of getting their asses kicked left and right.

“Talk to me, Shai,” Aver spoke as she approached the altar again. Puppy was sitting on its hind legs, shrewd red eyes tracing the symbols with a certain familiarity. Not sure how she felt about that, yet.

Later.

The massive Tuk’ata reared its head, and the merc dipped down to her level. Cupping her spined muzzle, Aver closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to hers.

And then she listened.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

Carach groaned.

Eyes opening, closing again, opening, closing, open.

Amber liquid filling familiar ice blue rather than sapphire. There was anger there, fury, but the Sith Lord contained himself because everything hurt and especially his face. "Did you punch me in the face?" He rubbed his jaw, feeling the tight lock and ease of the bones. Nothing broken, but definitely pain. "Yeah, I'd recognize that punch from anywhere." He slowly pushed himself off the floor, trying to steady himself in the moment as up tried to become down, vice versa.

He managed to retain his footing.

Immediately his thoughts raced around itself - was he himself? Was he in control? A probe was send through his every mental faculty... devoid of the tide, the cold, dark place that devoured. It seemed to be that they were fine now.

It had been the mentalism.

Carach could see that now- the moment his mind swept out and broke the two beasts, something had dug itself in where space was awarded.

That complicated things.

 

[Aver Brand]

“I punched you in the face.”

Her knees creaked as the woman rose again, ruffling Puppy’s spines. You did good, she murmured through their lingering mind link, then turned to join [member="Carach"] at the entrance of the chamber.

“I mean. I ain’t feelin’ great – I’ve had it up to here with this magic crap, my ribs are busted and I’m outta ammo but you—” Aver snorted, “you look like shet, sugartits.”

Leaving no room for protest, the woman casually swept him off his feet, hoisted him over her shoulders, and headed upstairs.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

This seemed to be one of those days.

Carach didn't even protest- mostly because it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. Oh, the armor was digging into his stomach, but on the other hand he could just relax and take a breath (every two seconds or so, after the sharp angle stopped trying to penetrate his abdomen.

"I feel like shet, darling." The Sith Lord clarified in between breaths taken. "While I don't mind looking at your armored arse, maybe turn me around so I can see where we going?"

They had left a gorram waste behind them.

For some reason the Sith believed that if there were more threats? It would come from their front, instead of where they had already been.

 

[Aver Brand]

“Everyone’s a critic.”

Aver rolled her eyes and unceremoniously deposited the whiny Lord on the floor of the temple as they crested the top of the stairs. “Glad you enjoyed the view.”

Moments later, the hulking form of Shai joined them too, and the merc caught step with her beast. Place felt empty, save for the dust and the towering statues hunched in the alcoves. They loomed above the door where they’d come in – five grotesque sculptures of crumbling red stone, features eroded by time and wind.

And above them, those same fething symbols. Aver scratched the side of her helmet.

“Let’s get off this flaming rock.”

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

He caught himself on his hands just so, before pushing up and climbing back on his feet.

Everything hurt.

Ugh.

This was a complete wash, but not... a waste of time. After all, they had annihilated their presence here and in the meantime convinced Ygdris that the threat was actually real. How many times could you get your arse kicked, before reality set in that there was a bigger predator out there? For Carach it had been once.

Just once before he realized that the world wasn't how he thought it had been.

"Can say that again." The Sith Lord mumbled, before brushing past her and watching the sunset. He thought they had only been there for a couple of minutes, but in reality?

The entire night had been spend there.

"I'd say we should wipe this place off the map, but something tells me it doesn't matter anyway."

The ones they were fighting didn't care about sentiment, about holding onto this place or that place, they had wiped it clean and it would not be occupied again. There were other places of power, of strength, of Force gathering up and bubbling at the seams of reality. This was only the start, a flimsy one... but it would prepare them.

For future things to come.

 

[Aver Brand]

“No,” she agreed. “It doesn’t .”

Aver afforded one last glance to the ancient structure. Her cold gaze swept over the domed insides, the fine stonework, the carved columns. It lingered on the steps descending into the bowels of the earth; on the lingering image of the inscribed black altar, caked with blood and well-abused by ceremonial blades.

Her skin crawled.

“A couple of escape shuttles should’ve survived,” the merc said with the conviction of someone who didn’t have the engineering expertise to make a broken one work. Her hand settled on Shai’s withers, lips quirking up at a particular memoryhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/82651-the-lady-doth-protest-too-much-methinks/?p=1621967. To this day, those were some fine bragging rights for [member="Blackthorne"] – beating her to the bottom of that cliff.

Puppy turned her head, muzzle spreading to reveal rows of unreasonably sharp teeth. It was almost like they were grinning at each other.

If Carach thought nothing good could possibly come of that, he was absolutely karking right.

Before the man could offer a word of protest, warning, or anything else resembling sensible thought, Aver would vault on the back of the tuk’ata, dig her heels in, and gallop towards the edge. In a majestic marriage of muscle, Force, and pure, unadulterated predator, the pair arced through the air, a jagged silhouette against the setting sun.

And then they disappeared over the lip of the cliff, a roar and a yell of joy echoing through the canyon.


[member="Jairus Starvald"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

Carach didn't even try to protest.

Instead the Sith Lord blinked, sighed, rolled his eyes and then stepped closer to the edge of the mountain, looking over it to watch the progression made by the Tuk'ata and Aver herself. Well, they weren't dead or punched together like a pancake, so it could definitely have gone worse. But now the issue was how he would get out of this alive.

Ovmar would have done it differently.

Jump off.

Die.

Raise himself up in a new body somewhere else, but Carach liked this body. He sniffed to himself- wondering what he had done to deserve this particular fate.

Then he snapped his fingers and from a coiling mess of energy something appeared in his hands. A twisted rod, gnarled, the only side straight was the one that the Sith curled his hand around. Where skin touched obsidian wood veins shaped dark, like black liquid seeped in and didn't leave any space for regular blood.

Carach scowled as another voice entered his thoughts. "Hello. Would you like to destroy something today?" It echoed across his body, stretching his muscles out as he forced himself to stay put.

Then another voice added herself to the mix.

Old... ancient... sapphire cold. "What is this?"

The shape of the Sith Lord disappeared.

 

[Aver Brand]

Though certainly impressive, this puny rock had nothing on the massive drop Shai and Ygdris had once launched off in pursuit of a girl and her dragon. Well, skreev. Potato, potahto. The tiny menace had won then, but Aver beat Carach to the ground easy.

Something about a fancy gnarled stick, lazy operators, and interdimensional tariffs? She wasn’t paying attention, honestly. This was the first time she was enjoying herself today, and some bullshet artifact wasn’t going to ruin it.

Puppy’s paws pounded against the red stone one last time before the majestic beast launched off. Their Force intermingled, twining together in a practiced dance – and a breath later, the crack of tuk’ata and killer shook the desert. A long gouge remained in the golden sands in their wake, dust curling into the setting sun as the pair stood on wobbly legs.

Aver let out a long guffaw, bracing against her withers. The massive predator nuzzled her side, a pleased tongue sneaking out to lick her hand.

There was a brief flash of light, a grunt, and then a figure materialized at the foot of the mountain. Hunched over. Retching.

Well, crap.

The merc strode over, laughter dead in her throat. “What the hell did ya do?”

[member="Jairus Starvald"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

Gnarled staff of obsidian stood rigid next to him even as his hands supported him bending over his knees.

Its surface shimmering, almost as if it was breathing alongside with its owner. Each haul of air evoked was replicated by the exterior.

The moment that Aver's eyes caught sight of it... it stopped. Completely frozen, until the voice began in sing-song. "Do you want to destroy things with me? We will have so much fun. I promise. You just need to.... touch me, curl your fingers around me." She would feel her hand curling, reflex, trying to reach out before she caught herself in the movement. "Yeah, don't do that- and you... shut the hell up." Carach's fingers were already wrapped around the staff.

He closed his eyes, coughed once more and... it was gone.

"Don't ask. You don't want to know- let's go."

The momentary weakness seemed to have disappeared again. He stood tall once more, but Carach noticed the snarl on Puppy's teeth. The eyes reflected recognition. The Tuk'ata or rather the spirit inside of the vessel knew what that staff was.

 

[Aver Brand]

Since the dawn of time – or at least the dawn of her recollection – Aver had hated it something fierce when people, things, spirits, or other suchlike entities rummaged around her head without asking for permission.

She’d slammed her current companion against a wall for it (and some accompanying grievances). She’d cut, beaten, and otherwise maimed people over it. She’d yelled at a queen (who she later slept with anyway, but we digress).

Ygdris Val did not appreciate foreign voices in her skull. She failed to appreciate them with such vehemence that Carach could feel the anger rolling off her in waves. On a normal day she’d be more restrained, but this day was about as normal as a Hutt dressed in the costume of one of his slaves, high on his own drugs, while putting on a show for his pet rancor with the ending censured for your own mental health.

The load of metaphysical bullshet and space magic thrown at her today, promptly shot and/or skewered for it, and left to decompose on the floor of an ancient temple was unacceptably high.

Aver didn’t even spare him a glance. She’d already erased the staff from her memory, and if Puppy was making strange faces, well, kark that. The merc and beast could talk all about it once they were back on some spacefaring vessel, heading into the comfortable embrace of a shower and a bed.

She turned on the spot and started for their smoking wreckage of a ship.


[member="Jairus Starvald"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

He tilted his head, easing the tension in his neck from one side to the other, before following.

The rest of the journey was made in silence.

Not awkward silence, but neither was it comfortable. Somewhere in the middle of it- a certain tension that would take time to ease and dispel the knots themselves. Maybe if the mission had gone differently they would be different now. Instead they had gotten their arse kicked from one side of the temple to the next, before they removed the last traces of resistance.

Instead of victory... they got this half-measure.

Carach grunted to himself- could have been worse. Not by a lot, but it could definitely have been worse. Already the deep hole left by their crash was coming up on the horizon.

 

[Aver Brand]

Several paces ahead of Carach walked the beast and her companion, a sleek tuk’ata. There was a predatorial sway to their step, but also a seeping fatigue – they had both given a pound of flesh today, and at their age, recovery didn’t come as swiftly as it used to.

Aver wasn’t lost in thought. That would require having any thoughts at all, which was what she was actively avoiding at the moment. Too much had transpired today. Too much and too weird and she didn’t have the patience to deal with it.

They crested the final dune as the sun first kissed the horizon, red rays spilling over the sea of gold. The woman paused to enjoy the view – even the jagged silhouette of the crashed ship added some charm to the scene.

If you were the sort to enjoy a post-apocalyptic aesthetic, of course. Aver had grown to appreciate it after ruining a number of worlds beyond recognition. It had lost its luster back then, but now? Twenty years later, she could say there was a certain beauty to it all.

The ultimate triumph of nature over man.

Or, in this case, just a bunch of overpowered space magicians kicking their ass.

The merc sighed and began the descent towards the ruins, running calculations on which bit of the ship was most likely to hold functioning vessels.


[member="Jairus Starvald"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Aver Brand"]

In contrast to Aver he didn't bother to pause at the scene.

The Sith Lord looked once, just to make sure Aver wasn't seeing something potentially dangerous or otherwise hostile, before moving on and trusting she'd follow once she was done. Maybe at a different age he would have taken the time, maybe if every bone in his body didn't hurt he would have stopped with her, maybe if his mind hadn't been taken over by an Ancient Deity... he'd be in a better mood.

Sadly none of that was the case: they had won the day, yes. But it had only reminded them about their limitations, how they were barely at the curve of power apparently.

It was sobering.

Carach looked over the edge of the large crater, squinting slightly, before sighing and dropping down, using the slight angle to modulate his speed and make sure he didn't drop on his face.

Too many times of that as well.

It took them a while, but eventually they got to one of the vessel, after some jury-rigging got it to work and with some difficult got into air.

"Just like old times, eh?" Carach mumbled as his hands moved along the controls, angling the ship to break through the atmosphere. "Something tells me this is just the beginning."

 

[Aver Brand]

Engine hum. The shifting of sand— the roar of sublight drives. The vessel shook, and they were off.

Aver listened with eyes closed, head resting on the warm back of her tuk’ata companion. Carach was cracking half-assed quips in the background, but she wasn’t really listening. A grunt was all affirmation he was going to get out of the merc.

The moment they’d kicked the craft into shape, Aver jabbed herself with bacta shot and promptly went into what she liked to call ‘hyperspace hibernation’. If there was one thing under the myriad suns she loathed, it was space, and frak help her if she didn’t do her best to avoid being conscious for any flight.

Sometimes, she’d read things. Others, she’d hone her communication skills by practicing curses in foreign languages.

And then there were times like these. Times where every bone in her body ached and her muscles were screaming for relief. Who was she to deny herself?

It was likely the only proper rest she was going to get in a while, if what they’d seen down there was only an aperitif.

Heh.

Food jokes.

She really needed to sleep.

“Just get us out of here, princess.”

The galaxy could wait a couple hours more.

[member="Jairus Starvald"]​