A Standup Philosopher
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Crown of Slaves 021
🕑 Added 2025-03-17 18:00:13 +0000 UTCThe stench of ozone, roasted flesh, and scorched chitin clung thickly to me, filled the air around me, and I resisted the urge to gag only t
The stench of ozone, roasted flesh, and scorched chitin clung thickly to me, filled the air around me, and I resisted the urge to gag only through more experience than was remotely preferable with exactly those scents as I surveyed the destruction that had been wrought in my efforts to feed the Red Engine thus far. To my surprise, and no small amount of fear, I had to admit, I had found that this was something else accurate to the game, because the Engine had obliterated -thus far- two of the three walls at the chamber’s cardinal directions and unleashed the score or so of k’lor slugs that had been living in the spaces behind them. There weren’t many, compared to the numbers I had been forced to confront previously, but they were far more powerful. Whether twisted by Sorcery or Alchemy, or even simply ravenous with hunger, they had hurled themselves at me with abandon and taken an atrocious amount of effort and force to bring down. If it wasn’t for the lightsaber I now carried, I would likely have been forced to expend far to much energy -physical and spiritual alike- to make killing whatever it was that lay behind the final wall a simple (or perhaps even possible) task. God, I hoped it wasn’t as hard as the final k’lor slug from this quest in the game had been. I’d died so many times trying to solo that, back before it had been possible to have companions at level 1. Of course, that was because it was a Heroic Quest that, at the time, had required a party of at least three players, but that’s entirely beside the point and quite irrelevant to the number of times I had died.
The important thing was that I was going to -judging by the lightning pooling above the Red Engine- find out exactly what I had to deal with in short order. And while I was considerably more powerful than ‘I’ would have been at this stage in the game, and had an interested ancestor riding side-saddle to rely on, I somehow doubted my opponent was going to be weaker. God knows that just wasn’t how anything worked, after all. A moment later, the lightning lanced out to obliterate the final wall still standing, and there was a chorus of high-pitched shrieks as k’lor slugs poured out of the dust…followed by a deeper, rumbling shriek that heralded a k’lor slug large enough that it could probably match a starfighter in width and exceed it in length.
“Well fuck.” I sighed in the brief moment I had before all turned to chaos.
The massive k'lor slug's body undulated as it emerged, its many clawed feet clicking on the stones, its carapace gleaming wetly in the eerie light of the Red Engine. Unlike its smaller kin, this monstrosity bore pulsing red veins across its armored hide, and where the others had the standard concentric rings of teeth, this one had three sets of massive, serrated mandibles, each dripping with caustic saliva that hissed when it struck the stone floor. Not just venom to inject, then, but some sort of acidic glands. Which probably meant I had to worry about ranged attacks of some kind.
“Hmm. An impressive specimen, though not a natural one. A matriarch, but subjected to sorcery. My once-friend protects his secrets well. He was never fond of terentatek or most other guardian-beasts. Were you wise, you would consider killing the lesser beasts quickly so that you can focus on the greater unhindered.” Kallig mused in the back of my mind, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes or snap something in response, well aware that he would chastise me for it later if I did. Besides, stating the obvious or not, he was right. Better still, there weren’t more than four of the smaller beasts, which meant dealing with them would be a matter of moments rather than minutes.
I surged forward, drawing the Force around me like a cloak to quicken my feet as I charged, lightsaber humming in my hand. The smaller k'lor slugs, sensing my approach, scattered in different directions—a primitive but effective tactic meant to divide my attention. Most of their kind didn’t bother, and I idly wondered if it was due to the presence of the modified matriarch, not that the why was remotely important at the moment.
"Not today!" I muttered, pivoting sharply and sweeping my blade in a wide arc. Two of the smaller slugs immediately lost their forward segments, their bodies spasming as ichor sprayed across the ancient stones, the all-encompassing stench of battle becoming thicker still. The third attempted to flank me, its maw gaping wide, but I thrust out my left hand and seized it with the Force, crushing its carapace with a sickening, squelching crunch before hurling the twitching mass at the fourth.
The collision -or, perhaps more accurately, the fact that it knocked the beast to the ground for a few moments- bought me precious seconds, seconds I took full advantage of to pick up the corpses of the other two and hurl them right at the mouth of the matriarch. I hoped, prayed really, that it’s instincts were much the same as any of it’s smaller brethren. A hope that was quickly born out as, for all the modifications and manipulations it had clearly been subjected to, slightly-cooked meat being thrown practically down it’s throat was enough to have it tearing into its once-children with hungry abandon. A distraction that wouldn’t last anywhere near long enough for me to be able to do any real damage to the damn thing, but sufficient for me to kill the last of it’s companions with a concentrated torrent of lightning.
The matriarch finished its grisly meal only moments after the smoking corpse finally stopped moving, it’s mandibles working methodically as it consumed the meal I had so generously provided it with. Its many eyes -another difference that set it apart from the others, k’lor slugs usually lacking anything resembling eyes- swiveled to lock onto me, and I could feel a malevolent intelligence there that far exceeded its lesser kin. As powerful, even controlling, as it’s baser instincts were, this one wasn’t a dumb, instinct-ruled beast.
"It hungers still, blood of my blood." Kallig observed unnecessarily, though his words grew steadily more useful as he continued. "And it sees you as the next course. But it knows you are no easy prey. It’s hunger wars with it’s wisdom…or what passes for wisdom, at any rate."
The massive creature reared back, its segmented body rising nearly to the chamber's ceiling, and I didn’t need to have precognition to have a damn good guess about what it was going to do. Which is why I flash-stepped a dozen yards to the side just in time to avoid the stream of yellowish fluid that splattered across the stones where I'd been standing a heartbeat earlier. The floor hissed and bubbled, the topmost layer of stone slurring into steaming, reeking slag, a thick and doubtlessly caustic cloud of steam rising into the air above it.
"Called it. That’s just fucking fantastic." I muttered unhappily, rolling to my feet and circling the beast, eyeing how it moved in the space that it had available. Space that suddenly felt far too small for this confrontation, though at least it wasn’t as small as it would have been if there were more people present. "Any weaknesses you'd care to share, oh wise ancestor?"
"The underside of it’s rear half will have the weakest chitin, the top of it’s whole length and the underside of it’s front half the strongest. The inside of it’s mouth, perhaps, will be the most prominent weakness, as it tends to be for most creatures.” he responded thoughtfully, and I could feel him ‘watching’ my enemy through my eyes. “Of course, that assumes that it hasn’t been modified even more than it so clearly has.”
“No matter how much it’s been modified, it’s still a k’lor slug. Even if it’s weak points are stronger than a regular slug’s strong points, they’re still weak points.” I returned, dodging another spray of acid with a bit more grace than the first time. “Of course, that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to actually penetrate those weak points, but at least I know where my best chance can be found. God, I hope this modified chitin doesn’t act like cortosis.”
“Cortosis? I have not heard of this. What is it?” Kallig’s tone was one of interest, though I almost laughed at how casual it was given the current circumstances. Even if he wasn’t the one whose life was on the line, a little bit of tension on my behalf wasn’t uncalled for. Even if he had faith that I would win handily, which I could only hope was the cause for his current equanimity.
“We can talk more about it later. Long story short, a special ore that is highly resistant to energy and is capable of causing lightsabers to short out entirely.” I responded briskly, smiling despite myself at the pulse of fascination and interest that flowed from his mind to mine. It must have been discovered at some point in the intervening two or three millennia between Kallig’s lifetime and Revan’s, and I idly wondered how that discovery had played out, and what the immediate results had been. Maybe I would look it up sometime, provided I lived long enough. I still had the matriarch to deal with, after all, and I doubted I could dodge forever. Of course, getting up close and personnel might not be the best choice either. I might be fast, but it had a whole lot of legs to try and hit me with too.
"Well, if I can’t beat it with brawn, let’s try brains." I muttered, watching the beast's movements carefully. The matriarch was fast for its size, but there was a pattern to its attacks—a moment of stillness before it spewed acid, a slight twitch of its forward segments before it lunged. Better still, in a room this restricted, it couldn’t turn or change course as quickly as it might have otherwise been capable of. That was good, but I needed more. I needed a definitive advantage that I could use again it. A thought occurred: if the matriarch and her brood had been placed here to guard and/or fuel the Red Engine, then perhaps…
I circled wider, putting the glowing Red Engine between us. The ancient device cast long, distorted shadows across the chamber, and I could feel its power humming through the stone beneath my feet. It’s presence in the Force was tangible, a roiling flame that, though hidden behind a veil, could still be seen and felt and feared. The matriarch seemed to sense it too, its movements becoming more agitated as it scuttled around the perimeter, unwilling to cross directly through the Engine's pulsing red light. That, or…
"Interesting." Kallig murmured in the back of my mind. "It fears the Engine. Or perhaps it was conditioned to protect it without touching it. A clever ploy, child, but now that you know, how will you make use of this knowledge?"
That was a fantastic question, and one that I unfortunately didn’t have an answer to yet.
The matriarch's hesitation around the Red Engine was a weakness—possibly the only one I could exploit that wouldn't involve getting close enough to be torn apart by those acid-dripping mandibles, but taking advantage of it was one hell of a question mark. It wasn’t like I could encourage the Red Engine to attack it, somehow, so as useful as being able to use the damn thing as a shield was -and it was very, very useful-, I wasn’t sure what else I could do with what I had learned. Still, maybe…
I side-strafed further, testing my theory, watching as the massive creature tracked me but maintained its distance from the pulsing heart of the chamber, trying to circle around it rather than come directly towards me, chattering in what I could easily sense was -in more human terms- impotent fury and frustration. Further confirmation, that was good, but it was passive confirmation. I needed something more, and there was really only one way to do that.
With a calculated, perhaps even foolhardy, risk, I feinted toward the beast, lashing out with lightning from close range before retreating back towards the Engine itself. The matriarch lunged after me, clawed forelimbs cratering the stone as it tried to strike and pursue at once…and then it abruptly halted, its segmented body contorting unnaturally as it fought against some invisible boundary. The floor beneath its countless legs cracked as it strained forward, mandibles clacking in frustrated rage, before it retreated several paces.
"So there is a threshold it won't cross, can’t cross. Even if it’s been injured by something inside of the perimeter, it won’t pursue past it or breach it in any other way. It’s not even trying to hit me with the acid." I observed, with something that probably smacked a little too much of abject relief for my ancestor to be entirely pleased, before I smiled. “That being the case, then, all I have to do is stay here and throw lightning at it until it goes down. Not the most courageous or heroic of plans, but it will work, and I rather like living.”
“Hmph. It will also be time-consuming, child, so I would suggest getting started as soon as possible if you’re set on this plan.” my ancestor grumbled, clearly hoping for something a bit more dramatic and impressive on my part, but unwilling to chastise me for finally displaying some caution and tactical wisdom after having demanded I do exactly that more-or-less since we had met. Besides, he probably recognized that I was not remotely capable, yet, of taking a creature like this on one-on-one just yet. Discretion is the better part of valor, and all that. Pooling my power into my hands, I unleashed a long stream of lightning at the matriarch’s mouth and mandibles, and while most splashed fairly harmlessly across it’s armor, enough struck it’s soft and wet innards to cause sufficient pain to have in shrieking and snarling in futile, pained fury. After a long moment of this, he continued. “If we are going to sit here doing this for the foreseeable, future, I expect you to explain this ‘cortosis’ to me. Such a thing hadn’t been discovered yet in my lifetime, and I would hear more about it. Is it related in someway to the beskar of the Qo Hyal Asha?”
It would have taken me a moment to translate the Ancient Sith if it wasn’t for his reference to beskar, and before I answered I took a moment to wonder why he had used the proper Mando’a name for the metal, but not referred to the people themselves as Mando’ade. Then again ‘Those Who Crave the Path of Victory’ was a very poetic, and honestly quite flattering, way to refer to the Mandalorians. Using the Ancient Sith term must have been an indication of respect on his part, and I made a mental note to ask him what experiences he had with the sons and daughters of Mandalore when I finished explaining cortosis to him.
“No, it’s not beskar, modified or otherwise, but it’s own naturally occurring ore. Very hard to mine, because of the energy currents it generates when still in ore form. If it’s not mined properly, it’s capable of killing a full-grown Hutt in seconds.” I responded, shaking my head and fingers alike, cutting off the lightning for a moment and observing the progress -such as it was- in killing the damn thing. Sighing and recognizing I still had a long way to go, I started again. “While beskar’gam is lightsaber and blaster resistant, it’s not immune, and it’s not detrimental to either of them. Cortosis will short out a lightsaber, for a few minutes at the very least, and will reduce the efficacy of blasters used against it by a significant amount, though if you hammered it hard enough with either it would be breached eventually. I think the reduction was something like seventy percent or more, though that depends on the thickness of the armor, the purity and amount of cortosis used, and of course the size and power of the blaster being used. Almost impossible to get, though, even on the black markets. Even the Dark Council would struggle to get their hands on more than could be used to make a single sword or a lightly-laced suit of armor.”
"Fascinating, and possessing so many possibilities." Kallig murmured, and I could feel his mind racing with those same possibilities and implications, and no small amount of envy. "Such a material would have been invaluable in my time. The Sith Lords would have slaughtered each other for even rumors of its existence."
I continued my assault on the matriarch, maintaining a steady stream of lightning while circling within my safe zone, trying to improve my angle of attack to work things more quickly, grateful that it’s desire to kill me was greater than it’s desire to protect itself and move it’s vulnerable areas out of my line of fire. The beast's movements were becoming more erratic, its mandibles snapping at empty air as it tried to find some way past its invisible barrier. The acrid smell of burning chitin joined the already nauseating cocktail of scents filling the chamber.
"The Republic and Empire both regulate it heavily, really heavily." I explained, pausing briefly to catch my breath. "The Jedi pushed for legislation making private ownership illegal outside of specific scientific applications, and the Republic caved pretty quickly from what I understand. Even the Empire restricts it, though not quite that strongly. Can't have assassins running around with cortosis weapons that could disable a Lord’s primary weapon and leave them helpless to members of the lesser castes, after all.”
“Hmm. I wonder if it could be alchemically enhanced further, or perhaps manipulated through sorcery. The applications, and the benefits therein, could be... substantial." he mused thoughtfully, curiously, eagerly. “Daughter of my daughters, you must acquire some of this metal. I wish to experiment with it, and I wish for you to hold such an advantage as you rebuild our house.”
"Let's focus on surviving this encounter before planning future research projects," I suggested dryly. "Besides, if cortosis were easy to manipulate, the Empire would have armored everything with it by now, wouldn’t it?"
“Hmph. Not necessarily.” he said with an audible and genuinely contemptuous sniff of disdain. “This Empire of yours is a pale shadow of the one Tulak Hord and I forged, or even the ancients that came before us. It is entirely lacking in wisdom and good sense, so I should hardly be surprised if they are so enamored with brute force and direct applications that the more subtle and clever arts have escaped their consideration entirely. You, my child, will doubtlessly prove wiser.”
“If only because I have you riding herd on me, right?” I asked sardonically, tone more than a little wry, and he pulsed a wave of comfortable, pleased confirmation at me, a nonverbal reply that was nonetheless impossible to misunderstand, and I rolled my eyes with a mutter. “Of course, how could it be any other way?”
The matriarch's thrashing grew more desperate as my lightning continued to cook it from the inside out, it’s shrieks fainter and more ragged than they had been before. Its mandibles clacked together in what I could only interpret as frustration and pain, acid dripping uselessly to the floor beyond the invisible boundary it couldn't cross. The stench was becoming almost unbearable now—burnt chitin had a particularly noxious odor that clung to everything, including the inside of my nostrils. I could sense the light, the spark, of it’s life guttering and flickering, struggling to stay alight. It was nearly dead, now, one final effort was all that remained to finish it -and this whole unpleasant affair- off.
Gathering what remained of my strength, I focused all my power into one final, concentrated blast. The lightning that erupted from my fingertips was no longer just a stream but a torrent, a crackling storm of energy that illuminated the entire chamber with its violent blue-white light. The matriarch's body convulsed, its segments twisting and contorting as electricity coursed through its massive form. Its many legs scrabbled frantically against the stone floor, carving deep furrows as it writhed in its death throes, and I resisted the urge to cover my ears at the cacophony of sound that was pounding away at them...and at the sensations pouring into the Force.
With a final, ear-splitting shriek that echoed throughout the chamber, the beast's head exploded in a shower of chitin, ichor, and partially cooked innards. The rest of its body continued to twitch and spasm for several seconds before finally going still, smoke rising from dozens of charred holes in its carapace. A moment later, even before I could properly finish lowering my hands or shaking the tingling sensation from my fingers, there was a pulse in the Force and a rumble in the stone of the chamber. The Red Engine, or more accurately the plinth that stood in the center of the antechamber, began to rotate counter clockwise and rise, stone shifting and spinning as it became a pillar that stretched from floor to ceiling. When everything finally stopped moving, heralded by a series of deep, resounding, heavy thuds that sounded very much like something locking into place, I found myself standing in front of a large, exquisitely carved door made out of…some sort of metal that I didn’t recognize. Metal that seemed to be, at least to my eyes, some sort of precious substance. Not gold or silver, but something of similar value, perhaps.
Something that seemed to resonate in the Force, and it wasn’t only my ancestor that was curious and interested -or imagining the possibilities- this time.
“Once I am a famous and powerful Dark Councilor, remind me to come back and take this door for myself. I’m thinking it would come in handy, and I certainly want to get my hands on more of it if I can.” I muttered to the both of us, reaching out and placing my hand on the center of the door and pressing on it. Nothing happened and I frowned for a moment, before a thought occurred. Lightning flowed down my arm to sink into the metal, and I grinned as it quite visibly reacted. Just like the pyramid that had been holding the first holocron I had recovered for Zash. The door split down the middle seam and the two halves withdrew sideways into the walls of the pillar, leaving me to cross the threshold and step into…well, it wasn’t a large space, so it wasn’t much of anything, but what little space there was looked distinctly shrine-like. And there, on a plinth, in the center, sat a pair of books. Their pages were not of stone or paper, and they weren’t even a sheaf of data-pads. No, their pages were forged from the same psycho-reactive metal that the door had been made from, with Ancient Sith cuneiform etched into the surface of each sheet so finely that I struggled to believe a human -or any other sentient species- could have ‘written’ them with their own two hands.
Ajak Shasot Asha, read the title of one. Ajak Qyasik Saarai, said the other. The Doctrine of Passionate Victory and…hmm, The Doctrine of The True Force? The True Doctrine of the Force, maybe? The second one was a bit harder to translate, it wasn’t quite as literal as the first, but if I had to take a guess the first was a Codex on combat and battle, and the second was a Codex on sorcery. Both written by one of the most powerful Sith to ever exist, and one of the most talented in each of those fields as well.
“…well, I’m certainly not handing these over to that lunatic. These are mine now.” I declared matter-of-factly, picking them up and regarding them with something close to reverence, running my fingers over the etched lettering with a small half-smile on my face. It was a good thing I had brought a satchel to carry all -or most, at the very least- of the equipment that the ‘unknown commando’, because I had not been counting on needing to get some extra loot back to the Academy.
Though, as far as causes for unexpected changes to one’s plans went, there were certainly much, much worse than finding two ancient, priceless texts that no one else knew existed.
"A wise choice, child." Kallig's voice was solemn, but I could feel the excitement bubbling beneath his calm demeanor. "These are treasures beyond measure, greater than all the wealth combined from every tomb on Korriban. To think Tulak Hord recorded his teachings so... comprehensively. I had not thought him capable of such foresight, given his foolishness in betraying me and his subsequent death.”
I carefully placed the metal-forged tomes into my satchel, feeling their weight settle against my hip. Not just physical weight—there was a presence to them, a gravity in the Force that seemed to pull at my awareness like an ebbing tide. An unfortunate things, one that made me wonder -somewhat anxiously, at that- if it was possible for others to sense them as well. If so, keeping them secret and to myself would be a more complicated proposition. Still, it was more than worth the risk, especially since no one besides Ephran knew that I was trying to collect them to begin with. And I was seriously considering making sure his mouth was shut permanently. Not very heroic of my, perhaps, but under the circumstances I was willing to be more…flexible than I might otherwise prefer. Which was probably something I needed to think about when I had the time, the privacy, and the peace to do so. For now, I had other responsibilities and objectives to pursue.
"We should leave this place before our 'friend' Ephran sends someone to check on our progress." I said, adjusting the strap of my satchel to better distribute the weight of my new possessions. "I'd rather not explain why I'm not bringing him back what he sent me for. In fact, if I can find a way to avoid him entirely, I would prefer that."
"Indeed. Though it would be amusing to see his face when you tell him you found nothing." Kallig chuckled darkly, sounding rather more ‘Sithly’ than he usually did. "He would never believe you, of course, but proving otherwise would require him to venture here himself, and he lacks the courage to make the attempt. Otherwise, he would have done so previously. And I do have to wonder if his madness would be sufficient to drive him into attacking you if he found out you do have the results of your efforts."
I snorted, shaking my head as I left the small chamber and headed for the entrance, intent on making my way to the hidden equipment and the final tablet for my trial, being extra careful to skirt around the massive corpse of the matriarch. Its body was still twitching occasionally, nervous system firing randomly in death, and judgign from the way it was leaking acid from it’s ruptured glands, not much would remain of the intricately carved floorstones within the next few hours. A pity, I supposed, but then again they were just nicely designed floorstones, not valuable murals or something of the sort. Hmm, I wondered if I could get in trouble for the damage? Probably not, it certainly wouldn’t be fair or reasonable, but Sith weren’t exactly famous for either of those traits to begin with, now were they?
At least the rest of the trial would be a bit easier, even if I was pretty tired from the fight I had just gone through. There weren’t many obstacles between me and the final tablet, after all, and I had a goddamn lightsaber to make use of now. I had more than enough strength, physical and mental alike, to deal with the oft-traveled tombs before me, and with their leader dead I rather imagined that the slave rebellion wouldn’t be lasting much longer either. All the better, says I. Maybe the rebels would be too busy trying to survive or find an escape route from the hole that they had trapped themselves in to cause me any trouble.
Hope springs eternal. I sighed as I stepped back into the sunlight once again.
Comments
Benjamin Bravo
I wonder how things will progress now that Vestara has those studies. Also with the commando, I wonder if Vestara can break down the changes made to her mind.
