Wretched Abyss

[Gorba the Hutt]

Shelf upon shelf surrounded him, a morass of bound pages, scrolls and digital databanks. He could lose himself in that swamp if he moved without care. The hover chair hummed as Bal'gul descended from the highest bookcase down to the lowest. One tentacle held the scroll he'd sought.

Stalk eyes swiveled to and fro, paranoia rampant as ever. The Iyra made a noise like a fish underwater as he retreated into a closeted alcove, away from prying eyes.

"Blub, blub, blub."

Obroa-skaii was renowned for its repositories of knowledge, but its positioning in the ever-shifting galaxy was now more tremulous than ever. At any moment a Mandalorian could burst through the doors in full beskar, blasters blazing, or a haughty Jedi come to 'investigate' under some conjured pretense to give cassus vellum.

Perhaps that made what he was about to do next very foolish, but what did he care? He'd already been to hell and back.

Slowly, Bal'gul closed his eyes one by one and began counting backwards from seven.

"Six, five."

The mortal coil loosened.

"Four."

Lesser still. By the time he reached one Bal'gul opened his eyes to a different realm.

"At last," he burbled, "Beyond Shadows."

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

 

[Arage Bao]

‘Hmmmhmm, mmhmmmm. Hummmhuuuuumhuuuuuuuuum.’ ​

‘What the feth are you doing?’​

‘Humming, obviously.’​

‘Do I dare to ask?’​

‘The Duranti of the Benkan Cluster believed that making music while thinking promoted the thought processes.’​

‘The Duranti of the Benkan Cluster were lost in a cataclysmic event, because their top scientists were too busy humming, instead of trying to figure out a way to escape their so-called destiny.’​

‘Good point, so… who is this?’​

‘A newcomer.’​

‘I can sense that, but… who is he?’​

‘Why don’t you ask him?’​

A loud sigh was audible.​

‘Fine.’​

------------------------​

Whispers would reach [member="Bal’gul"]‘s ear, rustle of the wind, and yet there was no wind to speak of. ​

‘Welcome.’​

The wind that was no wind said. ​

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

AH, another spirit, thought the cephalopod. Eight hundred years of interaction with Sith wraiths led to a certain familiarity, though most began by tearing his mind apart rather than issuing a transcendental greeting.

"Saaluutaationsssss," lisped Bal'gul, words echoey and drawn out, like the slow drip of a leaky faucet. He floated through the primordial mists of Beyond Shadows, tentacles wriggling sluggishly.

"Whaaat doo youuuu caaall yourseelffff, spiirit?"


[member="Jared Ovmar"]