Until The End of Your World
By Shane Koch-[email protected]
Rating: R
Setting: Pre TPM
Category: Action/Horror
Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan face an Armageddon.
"If you spend too much time walking with your devils," Gunnaar Roste began, "you may end up becoming one of them. I submit to you, Reverend Siritus, that the only true evil on the planet Niahmet is man himself."
"A pity," answered Siritus, "that you hold your fellow man in such low esteem Mr. Roste. Yes, men can be truly evil, but only without the presence of the Savior in their hearts. Only with His love and guidance can you move on to the next life."
The crowd in the holo-net studio murmured in assent, loyal to the Reverend. Siritus, the leader of His Open Heart Evangelical Society stuck out his chin and took a deep breath of satisfaction. He was comfortable in front of the cameras, clearly calm and in control. One would be hard pressed to turn on a holo-net projector on Niahmet without soon coming across his serious and concerned face. He was tall, his wide shoulders and barrel chest exuding power, but not in a threatening way. He just seemed capable, the kind of man who could do anything. His long white hair spilled down around his stiff collar and he frequently brushed strands away from his sharp blue eyes. His was a strong countenance, evoking trust and compassion, but also strength. He stood behind his podium, nodding out at the audience as they voiced their agreement.
"You see, these fine people believe," Siritus said, gesturing grandly to the audience, "why can't you find it in your heart to accept the truth?"
Gunnaar Roste shook his head and smiled. He was almost the opposite of the Reverend, in appearance as well as belief. He was young, his hair cut short in a military style, and his voice, though urgent, carried none of the bass-filled sway of Siritus. His attire was far more casual than the Reverend's simple and modest, dark blue suit. Gunnaar was a man of science and logic, clearly uncomfortable having to debate ancient prophecies and religion versus reason on live holo-net. Especially debating against such a beloved and famous man as Siritus.
"The people in the audience are your followers, Reverend," Gunnaar said, holding his own, "that's why they steadfastly agree with you. I bet if you said standing on your head three times a day was a surefire way to walk with the Savior for eternity, half of them would start right now."
"Well, the fact that the audience is full of believers," Siritus said, "would tend to lend credence to my position. You see, the truth draws followers from all walks of life. Where are your believers, Mr. Roste?"
"The need to convert and brag about followers is not necessary for me to be convinced I'm right." Gunnaar answered. "The truth may draw believers, but common sense doesn't have to. When people know they're right, they don't have to run around the entire planet telling everyone about it." He too gestured to the audience, sweeping his hand over them. "For every one of your audience members, there are a thousand reasonable holo-net viewers that believe as I do. And there are thousands of worlds in the Republic filled with beings who would laugh at the idea of the Savior or the Dark One."
"I myself need no convincing, Roste," Siritus said forcefully, "can't you see that I'm trying to save you? Can't you understand that I wouldn't want even one Niahmetian to suffer under the Dark One's power? I only want you to see the glory that is-"
An explosion sounded outside the building and the ground shook. Siritus and Gunnaar grasped their podiums to keep them from falling over. The studio lights flickered as more thunderous noises sounded outside. The audience began to stand, milling about, deciding whether or not to leave the studio.
"What was that?" Gunnaar said excitedly.
"Everyone remain calm!" Reverend Siritus said, "I'm sure everything is fine"
"Maybe a quake?" Asked Gunnaar.
The studio erupted then with screams and Siritus said, "By the Savior! What is that thing? Run! Run!" As the camera swung wildly, catching indistinct growling blurs and the audience rushing in a wave away from the unknown things. Then only static and white noise.
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Qui-Gon Jinn flipped off the holo-net projector and turned to the assembled Jedi. There were four Knights and his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. They were in a conference room on a Republic ship, speeding through hyperspace.
The Torset brothers, Kinn and Kelm, were present. The twin Jedi often worked as a team, bonded closely and working almost as one. They were Moori, their striking yellow eyes standing out against the contrast of their smooth and hairless black skin. The Moori were predominantly a peaceful people, a race of artists and musicians. The brothers were exceptions, due to their strength in the Force. They were young Knights, not much older than the twenty year old Obi-Wan, but they were highly respected due to their deep commitment and mastery of the Force. The brothers sat on the floor, silently contemplating the holo-recording they just watched.
Neel Arkre, a human, and the only Jedi who was forbidden to take on a Padawan learner, sat in the back of the room, levitating his lightsaber. He had a bushy and unkempt beard, and long scraggly hair that covered most the rest of his face. Arkre's obsession with finding new and unusual ways of manipulating the Force had put him at odds with the Jedi council more times than even his old friend Qui-Gon. His single-minded concentration on the intricacies of the Force and its application precluded all else for him. He could be counted on to complete every mission put to him, but only if you could find him and assign him one. He was known to disappear for months or years, ambling back to the Jedi temple on Coruscant only when it suited him to accept another mission. It was even said that he had almost come to blows with Mace Windu over Arkre's cavalier attitude towards his responsibilities. For that reason and others, the Jedi Council forbade Neel from teaching an apprentice his ways. On the other hand, his years of studies made him extremely adept in the use of the Force, making him a valued addition to a mission.
Saura Vell'hyr stood close to the projector, thoughtfully stroking her furry chin. A Bothan, Saura was well known for her intuitive nature and fighting prowess, as well as her stealth, which was a trait shared by many of her people. Her mane-like hair was pulled back in a tight tail, extending down her back, nearly reaching her calves. A thin layer of soft fur covered her body and her ears were pointed as sharp as her feline eyes, which swiveled to Qui-Gon.
"Can you replay it at a slower speed, Master Qui-Gon?" Saura asked. "I'd like to get a closer look at the end of that holo-tape."
"Of course." Replied Qui-Gon, as he tapped a few buttons on the holo-projector. The end of the tape played itself out again, this time at half speed. Obi-Wan, Saura, and the Torset brothers leaned forward to get a better view. Arkre paid attention only to his floating lightsaber.
"Neel, I should watch this if I were you." Qui-Gon said. He patiently waited for an answer from the unusual Jedi. He and Arkre attended the Jedi temple at the same time, so many years ago, and had been pleasant acquaintances ever since. Because he too walked his own path, Qui-Gon respected his old friend's ways, but still sometimes found it difficult to understand Arkre's motivations. Most of the time he really didn't even try to understand because it was relatively futile to do so.
Arkre still concentrated on his lightsaber. "If you were me, Qui-Gon, you'd be doing exactly what I'm doing right now." He said.
"As you will." Qui-Gon said, turning back to the slow motion holo-tape. The sound was off, so all they saw were slow mouths opening to scream, and slow black blurs with claws and red eyes. The tape ended and the Jedi all thought silently for a moment.
Qui-Gon broke the silence. "All right," he began, "now this holo-net program was broadcast only on Niahmet, but a Republic communications outpost picked it up and considered it important enough to include in the sectors data reports." He punched another button on the projector, bringing up an image of the planet Niahmet. "The recording we've just watched was the last known signal to come from the planet. They are now shrouded in a total communications blackout."
Kinn Torset got up off the floor and walked closer to the three dimensional image of their destination. "And this happened ten days ago, Master Qui-Gon?" He asked.
"Yes," the master Jedi answered, "a Republic aid ship was dispatched with medical supplies and technicians nine days ago, in case of planet-wide catastrophe."
"The Anniss Hope." Obi-Wan said.
"Right," replied Qui-Gon, "and then soon after they arrived on Niahmet, all contact was lost with them as well."
"Except for the last transmission," said Obi-Wan, "which was only continuous screams."
"Continuous screaming and then silence." Added Qui-Gon.
"How many people were on the Anniss?" Asked Saura.
"Ah," Qui-Gon began, thinking, "standard crew of twelve and around a hundred and fifty medics and technicians."
Kinn, who focused more on the present, turned to his twin Kelm, who always had part of his mind on the future. "Kelm? What of our mission, do you sense anything?"
Kelm looked at his brother for a moment, and then looked towards Qui-Gon. "The future reveals nothing," he said, "it is obscured."
"I agree," said Arkre, "I have been meditating on and off for hours and the future is dark." He stopped levitating his weapon and looked at Qui-Gon as well. Everyone else in the room turned to listen to him, for they all knew just how well versed he was in the ways of the Force. "The planes of the Force are soon to be even more disturbed than they are now. Can't you feel it?" He asked, as he met eyes with all the Jedi. "Something dark is moving with us at this very moment, disrupting the Force, and it will only increase as we move into the future."
"I can feel it," said Saura, "like a shroud over our path."
"This mission will be dangerous," Qui-Gon said, "that much is clear. So it is all the more important that we all focus ourselves on the task before us. Our investigation will begin tomorrow morning, when we arrive at Niahmet. Until then, I suggest you all familiarize yourselves with the map of New Panthic, the capital city where we will make our landing. And then get some rest." He bowed then, signaling the end of the briefing.
The Torset brothers and Saura Vell'hyr left the conference room, heading for their respective quarters on the small vessel. Neel Arkre stayed where he was, motioning for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to join him. The Jedi Master and his apprentice both took seats, facing the Knight.
"I didn't get a chance to catch up with you before we left Coruscant, old friend." Arkre said as he leaned back in his chair, becoming more comfortable. "Long time." He added.
Qui-Gon leaned back himself. "What? Ten years now? What have you been doing, other than annoying the council?" The last statement was said with a smile from the Master Jedi.
"The council? Those politicians?" Arkre said with a small laugh, "They have forgotten what it feels like to have to solve a problem yourself, and not merely order someone else to do it. Time spent in the field is time spent in the constant company of the Force. That's what I've been up to. Only in new experiences and ideas can the Force be completely explored. All they do is sit in their tower and pass judgement. What feathers better to ruffle than the feathers of the complacent?"
"Now, you know that's an exaggeration, Neel." Qui-Gon said, "I guarantee that master Yoda and master Windu have not grown complacent."
"Maybe, maybe not," Arkre said, "we'll just have to see, won't we? I have meditated on the future at great length, and the fate of the Jedi order is just as indistinct and unsure as the fate of the Republic."
"Just what do you mean by that?" Asked Obi-Wan. He was uneasy with the conversation. He had never heard a Jedi berate and question the council before. It was disturbing to the Padawan, because as long as he could remember, all he'd ever wanted was to be a Jedi. He didn't like anyone painting a harsh stroke on the order, especially another Jedi.
"What I mean, boy," Arkre leaned forward, "is that you must never blindly follow. You can only be sure of your own heart. The Jedi order will pass one day, sooner or later, into darkness. It is unbalanced, and in order for balance to be restored, the order will fall. Light cannot long exist without darkness, lest it burn itself away."
Obi-Wan was annoyed. "Well, if it's so hopeless, why don't you just quit? I'm sure the council wouldn't mind."
"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon said, his tone of voice a warning to his apprentice.
"No," Arkre said to Qui-Gon, "it's all right." He turned back to the troubled Padawan. "It's not hopeless, young one. We all die someday, but we don't give up on life. The orders fate is like life, invariably changing and ending and beginning, like everything else. We don't surrender, because a short life in the service of light is worth more than an immortality in darkness."
"The order will not burn itself out." Obi-Wan said calmly. "It has survived this long, and I'll wager that it will survive you and your prophecies of doom." He stood up to leave. "I can see why the council forbade you to take on a learner. One of you is plenty."
"I think that will be quite enough, Padawan." Qui-Gon said evenly. "Go and study the maps and get some rest, I'll be along shortly."
"Yes master," Obi-Wan said, giving Arkre one last glare as he left the room.
Neel laughed and relaxed again. "Headstrong student you have there, Qui-Gon. Reminds me of his master."
"I apologize for his brash words, Neel. Obi-Wan has the highest commitment to the order and the council." The master Jedi said. "I think you rattled him with your talk."
"And what about you?" The knight asked, "Were you rattled as well?"
"No," Qui-Gon said, "you can say whatever you'd like. I may not agree, but I know it's pointless to argue with you. It has always been that way."
"I don't claim to be right in fact, but only in possibility," Arkre began, "and I'll tell you a secret. I never did mind not being able to teach an apprentice. I never would have anyway. Taking on a student would detract from my own continuing study of the Force. Frankly, I'm surprised to see you with another Padawan, considering what happened last time."
"Obi-Wan could never turn. Ever." Qui-Gon said. "I feel that he has a great destiny ahead of him."
"I hope so," said Arkre, "and I hope we all live through this mission to have destinies."
"You sense something more."
"I didn't want to say anything in front of the young ones," Neel said, "but I feel death in our path. Death entwined with our mission. I can't say if it is our death or the Niahmetians, but it's there, and it's getting darker."
"I too feel a great disturbance in the Force," Qui-Gon said, "but we do what we must, old friend. I'm glad you're with us on this mission."
"Wish I could say I'm happy to be here." Arkre answered.
They talked for a while longer of the past and the future before retiring to their quarters, their minds on the screams of the Niahmetians and the crew of the Anniss Hope.
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The Republic cruiser forced its way into Niahmet's atmosphere, ripping through swirling storm clouds. The ship was spattered with a light rain of blood, rivulets running across the windshield.
"What is that?" Asked the pilot, already fearing the answer.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood in the cockpit, straining to see out the bloody viewport. The master Jedi idly scratched his neck, not answering the pilot, preoccupied with the strange rain himself.
"It looks like blood!" Obi-Wan said, "Blood falling from the skies!"
"Calm." Qui-Gon said to his Padawan, and turned his attention to the co-pilot. "Use the sensor array and identify that rain."
"Yes sir." Answered the co-pilot, accessing the sensor panel. He tapped buttons on the panel for a few seconds and then stopped suddenly. And then he turned pale. "It...it is blood sir," the co-pilot said, looking weakly at Qui-Gon, "and the computer identifies it as Niahmetian."
Obi-Wan looked sharply at his master, but Qui-Gon still stared out the viewport, his brow creased in thought. Finally he looked at his Padawan, not even a hint of the worry on his face.
"Go and tell the others that we will be arriving at the New Panthic spaceport shortly." Qui-gon told his apprentice.
Obi-Wan nodded and left the cockpit, leaving his master still looking out the gore-streaked viewport.
The cruiser broke free of the storm and soon reached New Panthic. The sprawling capital was a chaotic wreck of smoke and fire. Thick black clouds rose up from the raging fires below, casting drifting shadows across the broken city. Several skyscrapers were collapsed, and others looked to have been picked up and jammed back down into their foundations, seemingly ready to topple as well.
As the ship passed by the ruins, Qui-Gon saw no people in the streets. Shadows pulsed, almost creeping through alleys and the hollowed out buildings, radiating a dread that resonated in Qui-Gon's soul.
The spaceport was as bad off as the rest of the city, but still looked stable enough to set down on. Qui-Gon pointed the pilot to an empty spot next to what he recognized as the Anniss Hope. The Republic aid ship was powered down and showed no signs of life, its ramp hanging open like a dead man's mouth. As the cruiser began its approach Qui-Gon turned to leave the cockpit, and stopped to regard the pilot. "When we're off, seal the ship. Do not open for anyone but the other Jedi or myself. Understood?"
"Yes sir," answered the pilot, "and may the Force be with you."
Qui-Gon left the cockpit and made his way to the loading ramp, where the other Jedi waited for him. He removed his robes, as had all the rest, and he tied his hair back away from his eyes.
"What is this business about a storm of blood, Qui-Gon?" Arkre said, "Your Padawan is having some fun with us?"
Qui-Gon met his friend's eyes and shook his head. "Niahmetian blood, falling as rain." He said.
The Torset brothers looked at each other and gripped their black-handled lightsabers tightly. "New Panthic?" Asked Kinn.
"In ruins and on fire." Qui-Gon replied, checking his own lightsaber.
"What could it all mean?" Asked Saura.
"We'll find out." Said Qui-Gon. "We're landing directly beside the Anniss Hope. The Torset brothers and Obi-Wan will remain outside and watch the ships." He turned to Arkre. "You, Saura, and I will investigate the Hope."
Everyone nodded and waited for touchdown, focusing themselves through the Force. Darkness lightly drifted in their minds, like the fetid smoke of a pyre.
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The Jedi stepped out onto the permacrete tarmac, the cruiser's loading ramp closing and sealing behind them. Dozens of ships were scattered across the spaceport, burned out and battered hulks littering the area like a giant's toys. The main terminal was smashed and windowless, still smoking from a recent blaze. The spaceport was completely surrounded by downtown New Panthic, or what was left of it.
Arkre inhaled deeply. "That is the smell of decomposition and rot." He said to no one in particular, as the breeze carried the odor to the others. He knelt down to examine something.
"This damage," said Qui-Gon, "does not seem indicative of a conventional assault." He pointed to the fractured cityscape, "See? Bombs, blasters, or an orbital barrage can't do that to a structure." He gestured to one of the toppled skyscrapers. "That building was not blown up, it looks knocked over."
"I see what you mean." Saura said, "And there are no blast points or craters." She looked closer at some of the damage. "I only see evidence of small arms fire."
"I found an ear." Arkre said, matter-of-factly.
"You found a what?" Obi-Wan said.
"An ear," Arkre answered, as the other Jedi gathered around him, all looking down at an ear caked with dried blood, "see?"
Kelm stared purposefully towards the terminal. "I hadn't noticed before," he said, "that they're everywhere. Over there," he pointed, "a leg."
Now that they realized it, the Jedi saw hundreds of small body parts strewn about everywhere. The destruction had momentarily distracted them from the closer horror. Their eyes had passed over the limbs, torsos, and heads a minute before, mistaking them for mere debris. A closer inspection brought the gory truth into clear focus.
"All these people," Obi-Wan began, "the Niahmetians, can't all be dead can they?"
"I hope not." Answered Qui-Gon. "All right, Neel, Saura, let's check out the Anniss Hope." He looked at his Padawan. "You and the Torsets stay here and stay alert. I've never felt danger like this before."
Obi-Wan nodded and watched his master and the others slowly walk up the open ramp to enter the Anniss Hope. Qui-Gon ignited his emerald lightsaber as he entered the black maw, lighting his way into the ship. As the three Jedi moved into the Hope, the green sphere of illumination was swallowed by darkness.
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Qui-Gon moved slowly through the Anniss Hope, somehow not surprised to find every room and passage full of wet and rancid pieces of people mired in puddles of congealed blood. He frequently had to throw a hand against the splatter dotted wall-panels so he wouldn't slip on the meaty chunks underfoot.
Saura coughed behind him and wrapped her arm around her face, covering her nose with her sleeve. "I'm not sure I can take much more of this smell." She gagged. A Bothan olfactory sense was not something to bring into an ossuary, ripe in its thick stench.
"Use the Force," Arkre said, "and make your mind believe you're breathing fresh air. That's what I'm doing."
"I have never seen anything like this kind of slaughter." Qui-Gon exclaimed, "look at the bodies, or...the um, pieces. These people weren't blasted," he paused in the green glow of his saber, "they were ripped apart."
"Perhaps by the same things that appeared at the end of that holo-tape?" Arkre ventured.
"Yes, perhaps." The Jedi Master answered.
"It's working," said Saura, pulling her sleeve slowly away from her face, "the odor's not as bad."
"Look," Qui-Gon said, "we have reached the bridge. Maybe we can get a few answers from the Hope's memory banks." He handed his lightsaber to Saura and opened the manual access hatch beside the door. He turned the crank and popped the release for the bridge door seal. He got his fingers into the inch-wide crack, forcing the sliding door open. Qui-Gon retrieved his lightsaber and started into the dark room.
The trio stopped abruptly, eyes widening in surprise. There, standing in the green glow of the saber, was the pilot. He was apparently none the worse for wear. His head was cocked to one side and he was smiling.
"Uh...Are you all right?" Asked Saura.
No answer came from the pilot, and the Bothan began to move towards the silent man. Qui-Gon stopped her, grabbing her arm and pulling her back.
"Wait Saura," Qui-Gon said, "he's not right."
Arkre ignited his lightsaber, adding a blue light to the green, and Saura activated hers, blue as well. The three took a measured step back.
"What happened here?" Qui-Gon demanded.
The pilot's grin spread and he began to convulse. Veins stood out and burst on his face and neck, black liquid running from the wounds. He opened his smiling mouth and a stream of the viscous fluid vomited forth, puddling at his twitching feet. He gargled a laugh as he began inflate, pulsing flesh pumping and reforming, tearing through his clothes. Engorged muscles grew, violently shedding skin, doubling in size and then doubling again. Before their eyes, the pilot transformed into a giant creature of straining tendon and sinew. The skinless and hissing muscle-bound thing took a step towards the Jedi, growing claws and sharp teeth as it advanced.
"I happened here!" It screeched, high pitched like a child, "And now I'm going to happen to you!" And then it lumbered forward, dripping black ooze, its eyes glowing red.
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The sun beat down on the tarmac, its heat overpowering the morning cool. The balmy breeze brought only more stifling putrefaction to the three young Jedi. Obi-Wan still marveled at the wholesale carnage around him. He had been in violent situations before, and had seen many people die, but not butchered like livestock and left in pieces. Part of him wanted to leave, and another part wanted to meet the thing that had perpetrated such atrocities and destroy it. He shook the thoughts away and concentrated on the moment, leaving fear and anger behind.
"Ugh," Kinn Torset snorted, "can you believe this smell?" He asked Obi-Wan.
"I know," Obi-Wan answered, "I'm trying to ignore it."
"Good luck."
"Your complaints are unseemly brother," Kelm said, "considering the apparent state of the citizenry of Niahmet. The decomposition of the populace is something best solemnly endured."
"Keep it to yourself professor." Kinn snapped.
Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile a little at Kinn and Kelm. He could feel the love that the twins had for one another, but in the short time he'd known them, the brothers had been constantly bickering. Kinn was plainspoken, with no compunction about giving his opinion. He had a good sense of humor and seemed a little cocky. Kelm, on the other hand, was a consummate Jedi Knight. He was serious and almost humorless, always coming to the defense of reason and propriety. Kinn loved to try and get a rise out of his stoic brother, cajoling him whenever possible. Kelm just kept smugly correcting his sibling, verbally lashing out with logic. Obi-Wan noticed that the debates never became heated, no matter what the brothers said to each other, and no grudges were ever seemingly held.
"You are setting a bad example for the Padawan, Kinn." Kelm said. "I'm sure Master Qui-Gon doesn't want his apprentice exposed to such frivolousness of thought."
Kinn turned to Obi-Wan, theatrically gesturing at his brother. "Well said brother! Kenobi, let me ask you something. Are you an easily led invertebrate who will become a Sith lord at his first exposure to individuality and nonconformity?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I don't think so." He said.
"Are you a weak-kneed fuss-box with too much brain and not enough heart?
Obi-Wan shook his head again.
"There," Kinn said, looking at his twin, "now that we've established that you're nothing like Kelm here, I think we'll get along stunningly."
"All you've established is that you're a moron." Kelm said calmly.
"Wait a minute you two," Obi-Wan said, "What's that noise?"
The Torsets stopped their repartee and listened intently. A strange and uneven screaming echoed through New Panthic, nearing the spaceport. A chorus of warbling moans drifted from the sky. As the sound moved closer, the Jedi ignited their lightsabers. Obi-Wan held his blue blade out in front of him, waiting for the source of the wails drifting towards them. Kinn and Kelm activated their weapons as well; matching white blades absent of color.
"There!" Pointed Kelm.
Down from the clouds came a flurry of screaming creatures. They were severed heads with flapping, leathery wings at their temples. Niahmetian men, women and children, their dead faces contorted in a rictus of pain, impossibly warped into winged horror. The flock dove straight at the three shocked Jedi.
"You have got to be kidding!" Yelled Kinn, over the screams of the flying heads.
The Jedi lashed out against the rushing swarm engulfing them. Obi-Wan backed up, slicing at the things, trying not to look into their pitiful, rheumy eyes. The disembodied heads buffeted him, ramming with their foreheads and tearing at him with snapping teeth. Again and again, his deadly saber tore through the howling heads, splitting them with a spray of rotten brain and skull.
Kinn fought loosely, weaving through the flying heads, kicking and punching them almost as much as slicing them with his saber. He spun his weapon lightning fast, creating a near-solid shield of spinning power, sawing easily through any nearby enemies. It looked as if he darted a propeller of light around his body, destroying head after head.
Kelm used his lightsaber with the precision of a surgeon, fighting with a fluidic grace allowing no wasted movements. He slashed and thrust, never extraneous, ever methodical. He was like a statue that had come to life for the purpose of fighting, only reverting to stone when the job was done.
Suddenly, what creatures were left gave up and flew away, as if called from battle as one. Their wings quickly carried them from view, leaving only the diminishing sounds of their screams. The Jedi watched them go, surrounded by decimated heads with still-twitching wings.
"That," Kinn said, "had to be one of the top ten strangest things I've ever seen."
"What in existence could mutate and then animate a severed head in that fashion?" Kelm asked himself as he deactivated his saber. He stooped and examined a slice of head, a brainpan resting on the tarmac like a soup bowl full of gray matter. He poked at it with his weapon. "When they appeared," he said, "my first thought was that they must be constructs of some sort. But this looks like humanoid tissue, rotten but natural."
"Or perhaps," Obi-Wan said, "supernatural."
The Torset brothers looked at each other and then at the Padawan, unable to disagree with him.
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Qui-Gon, Saura, and Arkre backed away from the thing that used to be the pilot. Glistening with wet sinew, the monster followed them into the corridor, stomping on the human remains as it advanced. Its clawed hands opened and closed in anticipation of rending flesh, and its black tongue flicked drool across sharp fangs that wanted blood.
Qui-Gon lashed out with his lightsaber, a green arc burning into the monster's wrist, cleaving off its grasping hand.
"Ooh." The monster sighed in its child's voice. The white eyes framed in dripping red tissue regarded the blackened stump with curiosity. It then nonchalantly pointed the wrist at the fallen appendage. Strands of muscle, like tentacles, whipped at the hand, grabbing and reattaching it with a slurping sound. The thing flexed its fingers at Qui-Gon and grinned.
Qui-Gon cut off its head. More tentacles snaked from the oozing neck hole, probing. As the body stumbled about, the Master Jedi slashed it to pieces, until no more muscle strands slithered. The head glared coldly at its intended victim.
"Well," said Arkre, "that was easy enough."
"Look, the head's still alive." Saura said uneasily.
"What are you?" Qui-Gon demanded of the head, "What happened on this planet?"
The head seemed to think for a moment. "You are more capable than the other strangers." It said, "You require special treatment. Prepare yourselves for oblivion." It then began to giggle at the Jedi, taunting them.
Arkre silenced the head with a thrust of his lightsaber. "What do you make of that?" He asked, turning to Qui-Gon.
"I don't know," he answered, "but I'm going to find out."
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"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said as he emerged from the Anniss Hope with the other Jedi, "What happened out here?"
"Heads Master," the Padawan answered, "with wings." He gestured at the halved heads lying about.
"They attacked from above and fled from our resistance." Kelm added.
"This mission is becoming steadily more insane by the minute." Saura said.
Qui-Gon scratched at his beard, surveying the scene. "We found the pilot of the Hope." He said, "He transformed into a monster right before our eyes. I could possibly explain that away with mutagenics or biological tampering of some sort, but flying heads?"
"Your Padawan expressed leanings toward the supernatural," Kelm said, "and I may be inclined to agree with that assessment upon further investigation."
"Perhaps we should reconnoiter the surrounding city area," Arkre suggested, "see if we can find any answers, and if not, check out other locations around Niahmet."
"Agreed," Qui-Gon said, "we'll take some time to scout out New Panthic, and if necessary, investigate other major cities before reporting back. But I think it would be a good idea to stay together."
"If we're dealing with supernatural elements," Arkre said, "that's definitely a good idea."
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The Jedi made their way from the ruins of the spaceport and slowly into the debris-ridden streets of New Panthic. Day turned to night, the sun falling away from view. The only light came from the numerous fires spread about the capital city.
"This is impossible!" Qui-Gon said, exasperated.
Arkre looked upward at the two moons that had just appeared. "It's still morning." He said.
"Listen," Kelm said, "do you hear that?"
From the shadows came a rustling sound, a slithering and clicking from the hollowed out buildings. The darkness was moving, ebony masses with glowing red eyes began to stir, their forms hidden by the night.
Ahead of the Jedi, a girl backed out of the mouth of an alley, her eyes fixed on the opening. She was dressed in rags and covered with cuts and bruises, her long black hair was matted and dirty. She lifted a blaster and fired at something deep in the alley. Tears ran down her face as she fired again and again. Suddenly, she seemed to deflate and she put the barrel of the blaster in her mouth.
"NO!" Qui-Gon screamed as he reached out with the Force, jerking the blaster away from the girl. The weapon flew into Qui-Gon's hand. He dropped it and beckoned to the girl. "We're here to help." He said.
The girl noticed the Jedi then, looking at Qui-Gon, her face a mask of pain. Just then, a black blur erupted from the alley mouth, slamming into the girl. In a whirl of claws and teeth, the furry black ball ripped her to pieces instantly, splattering her. Its red eyes turned to the Jedi and it screeched. It looked like a killing machine made simply to rend flesh and bone. Just a wad of dark fur with eyes, stubby appendages with long talons, and a large mouth full of gnashing fangs. It screeched again and was joined from the shadows by a hundred more creatures just like it.
The Jedi all ignited their lightsabers, slowly backing away from the monsters.
"The things from the holo-net studio." Qui-Gon said, "This city is infested with them."
"That girl," Saura said, "it tore her to pieces in less than a second!"
"They're going to attack!" Kinn said, "Ready yourselves!"
Arkre deactivated his weapon and dropped to one knee. The other Jedi could feel the Force stirring around him.
"What's he doing?" Asked Obi-Wan.
"I don't know," Qui-Gon said sharply, "concentrate on the creatures."
Just then, some of the black monsters began to spontaneously combust into balls of intense flame. At random, they were blossoming in fire and smoke, their violent ignitions strobing the dark street.
Arkre stood and stretched out his hand, exploding more of the black things. "I've found that I can channel the Force into pyrokinetics." He said. "I know it's not defensive, but it can come in handy."
As more creatures combusted, the living remainder converged on the Jedi, a roiling mass of destruction moving in for the kill.
"Here they come!" Shouted Saura.
Their numbers were depleted, but the monsters still posed a deadly threat for the Jedi. They drew strength from the Force and stood their ground with precision and skill. Creature after creature fell before them.
Siritus, now warped into an impossible angel with flaming wings and sword, suddenly swooped from the sky and before anyone could act, the transformed Reverend cleaved Arkre's head from his body with his fiery blade. The Jedi's body stumbled and fell; Arkre's dead face locked in an expression of surprise.
"Arkre!" Qui-Gon screamed as he advanced on Siritus.
Siritus' flaming wings set him on the ground. His long white hair blew in the wind and he was dressed only in a loincloth. He waved his blazing sword out in front of him. "You must all die," he said, "for the glory of the Savior!"
"Siritus!" Qui-Gon said, "we're here to help you! What's happened to you?"
The Reverend lunged forward, his blade just missing the dodging Qui-Gon. "I have been touched by the almighty love of the Savior! The only way you can help me is to offer yourself for holy sacrifice!" He swung again, at the place the Jedi master occupied an instant before.
Saura fell screaming to an onslaught of the black beasts, overrun by sheer numbers and ripped to pieces. She had no chance to scream.
Suddenly, a mechanized behemoth burst forth from the ground, a shower of permacrete raining down on the battlefield at its explosive appearance. It was a walking weapon, bristling with scores of gleaming blasters. Its silver armored form was huge, lumbering forward menacingly. Embedded in the chest of the thing was a human. Obi-Wan and the Torset brothers looked upon the grinning face of Gunnaar Roste, cybernetically fused and one with the weapon-laden monster.
"It's the other one!" Kinn said, "I'll handle him!" The young knight then leapt towards Roste, his lightsaber spinning.
"Kinn, wait!" Kelm said.
But it was too late. Kinn was assaulted by a thick fusillade of blaster fire, impossible for him to dodge while airborne. He was blown to smoking bits instantly.
"Kinn! NO!" Kelm screamed, as he ran at the metal monster. He methodically dodged every blaster bolt, coming up close to his brother's killer. He then systematically dismantled Roste's weaponry with his lightsaber, disarming the scientific terror with violent speed and accuracy. Then, with tears in his eyes, Kelm plunged his lightsaber into Roste's chest.
Roste laughed, spitting blood through gritted teeth. "You think me defeated? Join me now in the underworld," he said, "in the service of the Dark One!" With that Roste exploded, a suicide that vaporized him as well as Kelm Torset.
Obi-Wan saw the Jedi die, but he was too busy fighting off the black monsters to do anything about it. His master was embroiled in his battle with Siritus, so the Padawan was on his own. There were very few of the creatures left, so he felt he could hold his own. He hoped he could. He was wrong. He was overpowered by the ferocious things and ripped to shreds, just like Saura.
Qui-Gon felt his Padawan die and his heart broke and burst into rage at the same time. The Jedi master tore into Siritus mercilessly, driving the strange angel back.
Siritus swung his flaming sword and Qui-Gon sliced off the reverend's arm.
Siritus spun, lashing out with his blazing wings. Qui-Gon cut them away.
Siritus screamed in anger and frustration. Qui-Gon removed that howling face in a bloody slash, turning away from the reverend and wading into the mass of screeching black monsters.
Qui-Gon did not stop until every one of them was dead. He stopped for nothing, not even the slashing claws and snapping teeth of his enemy. He fell to his knees, torn and bleeding, one eye gone and his intestines straining against his ripped abdomen. He held his still-activated lightsaber loosely, the emerald blade slowly melting into the street.
Night turned back to day, the burning sun pounding down on New Panthic.
Qui-Gon felt his connection to the Force weakening. He was dying. He looked at what was left of his Padawan and wished he could have sacrificed himself to save Obi-Wan. If only he could know that his apprentice would go on. Pain racked his irregular-beating heart and he cried then at his loss and failure.
A thundering boom came from far away, a steady tremor that shook New Panthic. Qui-Gon looked up with his one good eye and saw a giant coming from afar. The man was miles tall and miles away, impossibly staring directly at Qui-Gon from that great distance. He wore a red robe and had flowing brown hair a thousand feet long. The giant's expression was placid, almost comforting. He strode directly toward the Jedi master, his footsteps shaking the ground. As he pushed his way past crumbling skyscrapers, the man began to shrink. When he finally reached Qui-Gon, he was regular human height. He stood quietly, smiling.
"You are quite the mess, my friend." The man said. "I really feel that an apology is in order. You bring about the end of the world and it all gets away from you. I did not mean for strangers to become involved, but Armageddon is as Armageddon does. By the time I noticed you, you were almost all dead already."
"Who...who-" Qui-Gon pitched forward, coughing blood.
"Oh, here." The man said as he walked over to Qui-Gon. He waved his hand and the Jedi was healed. There was no trace of the horrific injuries, even the eye was healed.
Qui-Gon slowly got to his feet and deactivated his lightsaber. He looked down at his clothes, which were reformed as well. He looked at the strange man in wonder. "Who are you?" He asked.
"I am known by many names." The man said, "Xemu, Crom, Savior, Dark One, every planet I have created has a name for me. I guess you can just call me God."
"I'll not call you God, especially if you're to blame for all this carnage." Qui-Gon said forcefully.
"All right then, call me Tim."
"Fine, Tim. Are you responsible for this?"
"In a way."
Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber. "Explain yourself quickly, because you just killed my friends and my apprentice."
"I wouldn't threaten me if I were you." Then in a softer tone, "I'm not here to fight with you. Look." He swept his hand across the field of battle, resurrecting the fallen Jedi in one motion. Torn bodies reformed and blood ran again through veins and restarted hearts. The spark of life leapt once more into the healed bodies. Obi-Wan, Arkre, Saura and the Torsets, all alive again. They all stood, confused and surprised.
"I...died," Obi-Wan said, "I remember dying." He shook cobwebs from his head and looked to Qui-Gon. "Master?"
The Jedi master looked at his Padawan. There was joy in his heart, but it was balanced by his duty to find out the truth. "Yes, you were all killed," he said, "and brought back to life by him." He pointed at Tim. "This is Tim. He is to blame for the destruction of Niahmet."
"That man is responsible?" Arkre asked, "But how."
"He believes himself some kind of god." Qui-Gon said.
"Not my god!" Kinn said as he strode towards Tim, activating his saber. He was stopped by his brother's iron grip on his shoulder.
"Think for a moment brother," Kelm said, "if nothing else, this man has power over life and death. I saw you die and now you live. That alone merits our respect and patience. Can you not feel the energy emanating from this being?"
"Your brother is right Kinn." Arkre said, "I'll wager that he could destroy us all without much effort."
"But we have to do something," Kinn said, "we can't just let these people die for nothing, at the whim of this man. Not just because he's powerful."
"Let Tim talk," Qui-Gon said, "then we'll decide."
"Fine." Kinn said, deactivating his lightsaber and stepping back.
Qui-Gon powered down his weapon as well and crossed his arms, looking at Tim. "Go ahead." He said calmly.
"All right," Tim began, "I'll explain." He stroked his chin, as if searching for the right words. "I am not of this continuum. I exist in a separate place, like others of my kind. We have lived for what you would consider forever. We exist in all time and space, endless planes of reality, dream and nothingness. Some of us dabble with the creation of life, of worlds. Experimentation of a sort, among other reasons."
"You created Niahmet?" Arkre asked incredulously.
"Quite." Tim answered.
"But how?" Asked Saura.
"You do not posses an adequate enough life span for me to explain that to you" Tim said, "Suffice to say that I do these things and it not within your realm of understanding."
"Well," Kelm began, "perhaps you could attempt to put your reasons for destroying Niahmet into our realm of understanding."
"When one creates a world, it's like a free will clockwork." Tim said, "You wind it up and let it go. It runs for a time and eventually it winds down. Niahmet has wound down. I did not actively destroy this world. The people did it to themselves. I just played my part." He pulled a book from his robes. "This is a Niahmetian holy book. Their prophets described the destruction of their world thousands of years ago. But I never involved myself with their religion. I heard no prayers, sired no god-men half-breeds, and communicated with none of their scribes. I wind up a world and let go, coming back from time to time to check on my experiment." He tossed the book on the ground.
"But you created the monstrosities that killed the populace." Qui-Gon said, "You could have just left well enough alone. These people shouldn't have had to die because of the scribblings in an ancient book."
"Yes they should." Tim said, "Free will, fictions, time and space, dreams, it's all the same. I can't expect you to understand this, but the second that the prophecies of doom were propagated and believed, accepted as truth, they became truth. I am required by my kind to follow certain rules. Whatever future the Niahmetians envisioned, dystopian, utopian, ending or never, became their destiny. I never had a choice but to help Niahmet into its own personal fate. When I created this world, so long ago, I knew this day would come. Nearly every society I've seen has condemned itself to a dark destiny. If they could have predicted a bright and everlasting future paradise, it would have come to pass. But that, as is so often the case, was not to be."
"Are you saying that every planet is tied into that irrevocable sequence?" Kelm asked.
"Oh no," Tim said, "as far as I know, Niahmet is the only planet in this continuum that has been created by one of my kind. I believe all other life in this universe has occurred naturally. You needn't worry about your worlds."
"But why spare us?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Well, first of all, you are uninvolved in all this," Tim began, "and not deserving of Niahmets harsh destiny. I am fair. I was on the other hemisphere when your ships arrived. I'm not omnipotent in the certain ways of knowing every little thing. When I realized, I came to set things right. You intrigue me. You use your universes energy field in a most interesting way, manipulating it in a fashion I've never encountered before. I don't want to be responsible for the deaths of individuals such as yourselves."
"The Force doesn't exist in other universes?" Qui-Gon asked.
"That is not your concern."
The ground began to tremble, quakes tearing through the planet Niahmet. The Jedi struggled to keep their footing and the buildings began to break apart.
"Oh!" Tim Said, "You better get to your ships, this world is over. Farewell."
"You said ships!" Qui-Gon said, " The Anniss Hope?"
"Yes, yes," Tim said, "I brought them back explained it to them at the same time I was talking to you. Now leave me while you still can. I have to wipe this planet clean and start a whole new primordial soup. You have no idea how trying that can be."
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By the time the Jedi reached the New Panthic spaceport, the Anniss Hope was lifting off. Qui-Gon radioed the pilot of the Republic cruiser and ordered him to lift off as soon as they were aboard. The Jedi climbed the ramp and Qui-Gon looked back at the crumbling world, still wishing that he could do something for the Niahmetians. He saw Tim, giant again, walking away through the clouds. The Jedi master shook his head and entered the cruiser. The ramp closed and the ship lifted off into the sky.
The Jedi stood at the rear viewport, watching Niahmet from orbit. Two impossibly large and disembodied glowing hands grasped the planet, molding it like a sculptor, kneading away all vestiges of civilization.
"Now that," said Arkre, "is something I will never forget."
"It's incredible," said Saura, "but tragic, a whole people lost to their own mythology."
"I guess some things are just too big," Qui-Gon said, "even for us."
"This reminds me of an ancient proverb I read." Kelm began, "It says that-"
"Yeah, yeah," Kinn said, "why don't you go write it down and we'll all read it later windbag."
As Kelm scowled at his brother, Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile.
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Gunnaar Roste and Reverend Siritus wandered a beautiful valley, followed by thousands of Niahmetians. The air was sweet and warm and the faint sound of music could be heard floating on the breeze. A man met them.
"My friends," Tim said, "welcome to the Promised Land!"
(If you dig this story, read my Darth Vader action story, Tamarisk.)