momslilassassin: ([neu] lightsaber)
It had been three days since the frigate Redstar had dropped Luke, Jaina and the Fandom folks at the entrance to the Maw, and that meant it had been three days since Luke had first been handed the crumpled flimsi he now held in his hands. On the flimsi was the text of a short S-thread message from Corran Horn, which the Redstar’s communications officer had retrieved as soon as the frigate emerged from hyperspace outside the Maw.


The message was only three short lines, but it had done more to incapacitate Luke than any of the wounds he had suffered fighting Abeloth. He had trusted Vestara—had even been the one to persuade the other Masters she would be a valuable asset inside the Temple during the battle against the Sith. He could not have been more wrong. His mistake had cost Bazel Warv his life and—assuming he was correctly interpreting Corran’s conspicuous use of the word “target”—nearly gotten Allana killed.

Now, after three days of meditation, he continued to find himself mired in doubt, wondering what else he might be wrong about, and reluctant to trust his own judgment.

And he was running out of time. The Rude Awakening, a sleek little pinnace infiltrator manufactured for the space marines’ elite Void Jumper units, was already approaching the choke point where Sinkhole Station had once hung suspended in a binary black-hole system. Luke could see the accretion whorls of the two black holes with his naked eye, a pair of fire-rimmed disks centered in the forward viewport, and he could feel Ben ahead, on Abeloth’s hidden planet, reaching out to him in the Force, urging him to hurry.

And still Luke didn’t know what to do, whether he was following the will of the Force by following Ben—or defying it.

Ender and Luke have a chat about destiny. )

Luke learns about how Tara's magic works )

And people check in on Ender. )

[OOC: Preplayed with the fantabulous [ profile] life_inshadow, [ profile] endsthegame and [ profile] hoorayimrich.]
momslilassassin: ([neg] why me?)
Ben awoke. He felt the familiar softness of Ship's gel-cushion floor beneath his aching body, and his temples pounding with the aftereffects of anesthetic gas…the same gas that filled the passenger cabin every time he tried to free himself.

As was his practice (and an Enderlike voice in his head wondered dryly why he'd been knocked out enough to have a standard set of procedures for this), he lay motionless, waiting for the fog to clear, trying to take stock of his circumstances. His hands remained behind him, secured by the same pair of stun cuffs that he had been trying to open when the gas had last come hissing from circulation vents. Judging by the numb ache in his shoulders, his arms had been folded under his back without moving for quite some time, and his tongue felt swollen with thirst. Clearly, this time he had been unconscious longer than a normal sleep cycle—for at least twenty-four hours, maybe even forty-eight.

The muffled rumble of a battle was reverberating up through the floor beneath Ship, and occasionally the entire hull would shudder with the force of an explosion that was either very close or very powerful. If Ben listened carefully, he could even hear the distant screech of blasters—though the sound was so faint it might have been nothing more than wishful thinking.

Don’t make me use the gas again. The words came to Ben inside his mind, as dark and full of menace as always. You need to see what is about to happen.

A section of hull grew transparent, and Ben saw that Ship was sitting in the formal reception hall just off Pinnacle Platform. Designed to impress, the hall was an immense, cavernous chamber with alabaster walls and a white stone floor. With a sweeping view across Fellowship Plaza, it had once been used by the Jedi Council to receive the Temple’s most distinguished visitors. Today it was filled with blast rubble, gray fumes, and a small band of weary-looking Sith.

Abeloth was there, too, standing in the wreckage of the hall’s grand entry, facing out toward the landing deck between a pair of laser cannon emplacements. At the ends of her upraised arms, her tentacles writhed in the air as though she were using them to stir the smoke that was swirling over Fellowship Plaza. Even with her back to him, Ben could see that she was looking toward the distant cylinder of the Galactic Justice Center, shooting blastboats out of the sky in a way calculated to cause the most fear and pain to the marines inside the carriers before they died. Ben closed his eyes against the pain in the Force and prayed he wouldn't recognize any of the Force-signatures as they flashed out of existence.

Abeloth was feeding on the dark side energy of their fear. Ben had seen her do it on Pydyr, when the entire population of the moon believed they were dying from a fake plague, and now she was doing it on Coruscant--but with trillions of inhabitants on Coruscant, Abeloth’s harvest would be limitless. Ben could not help wondering if this had been her plan all along—to set Jedi and Sith against each other, then feast on the fallout.

You Jedi are such small thinkers, Ship said, interrupting his thoughts. Abeloth wants so much more, Ben…especially for you.

Wasn't that reassuring, Ben? )

[OOC: Taken from Troy Denning's Apocalypse. Warning for mild violence and creeptasticness.]
momslilassassin: ([neu] eye closeup)
“So," Ben said, looking down on Upekzar, "this is a lot nicer than Ziost. Ship's taste in locales is improving."

“Or Abeloth’s,” Vestara said. When Natua had described the ruins of a temple that had closely matched Ben’s description of where he had first found Ship, they had all felt hope that they might actually find that elusive and dangerous vessel, and with it, Abeloth. She wouldn't be challenged just by Luke, Ben, Vestara, or the Lost Tribe, who’d had their own agenda, and one that ended up not really being all that interested in the destruction of Abeloth. Now she would be opposed by nearly every Jedi in the galaxy. And in with those kinds of numbers, even an ancient and powerful a being like Abeloth could not stand.

...Ben hoped. If it didn't work, a lot of people they would need later would die pointlessly now instead.

Natua’s long hours spent in the Temple library studying Sith worlds and their histories had made her the resident expert, and Luke had insisted that she be the one to brief her fellow Jedi. Vestara might know more about the Sith mind-set, but Natua had turned her fierce determination toward learning everything she could about their ancient habitations. Ben listened with half an ear as Natua filled in the rest of the fleet on the Dream Singers, the lava caves, and the subterranean hangar that had once contained Sith training vessel: he'd heard all of this before in the library.

Well *this* planet sucks. )

[OOC: Warnings for NPC death, Ben being kicked around like a puppy, and massive stupidity. Adapted, mangled and folded into origami cranes from Christie Golden's Ascension.]
momslilassassin: (Default)
Luke had disappeared up toward the Council Chambers immediately on landing the Jade Shadow at the Temple, leaving Ben, Jaina and Vestara to make their way toward the library on their own. Jaina had wanted to see Natua first thing to thank her for her hard work. After a few moments of watching Vestara take in the sights--mostly corridors and turbolifts, by design--Ben broke the silence. “So what do you think?”

She turned to him. “It’s … quite large.”

“Jedi have been on Coruscant for a very long time,” Ben reminded her.

“Sith have been on Kesh for a very long time as well, and yet our Temple is much smaller.”

Ben filed that away for further inquiry later. “Well, once we’re done in the library, we can go anywhere you’d like. I suggest the cafeteria.”

She gave him a little glare. "Very scenic, I'm sure."

The few beings who were here seemed engrossed in their research and didn't pause to stare as the three of them entered. Even, it seemed, Natua Wan, whom they finally found as Jaina peered behind several stacks of datapads. “I commed you about seventeen times,” Jaina greeted her.

Greetings, exposition fairy! Tell us our next wild nexu hunt location! )

[OOC: Adapted from Christie Golden's Ascension.]
momslilassassin: (Ben: thinky)
Ben sat in the tiny room that had been set aside for him on Endor, packing up the few belonging he’d left there. The next time he returned to this galaxy, the Jedi would be somewhere else: too many people knew about this place.

The days that had passed since Centerpoint he’d spent productively: asking questions, trying to get a sense of who was on what side these days. Finding out how his father was really doing. And figuring out where Tahiri was. That answer had not made him happy at all, for a number of reasons he wasn’t about to share with anyone in this galaxy.

Or, he reflected as he folded up a robe, any other galaxy.

Most of his questions had been concerned with exactly what had happened with Alema, and why his father thought she’d killed Mara. And as many times as he went over the pieces in his head, they still didn’t fit together for him into a coherent whole.

Ben's smarter than he thinks. )

[OOC: Dialogue taken and tweaked from Karen Traviss's Revelation. NFB, NFI, OOC is love.]
momslilassassin: (Ben: looking down)
The ship's presence grew stronger the closer Ben flew to the Hapes Cluster, even though Ben couldn't figure out what Lumiya could possibly want in that part of space. He couldn't feel Jacen--hardly unusual--but he could feel a trace of his mother.

Don't tell me we're both following Lumiya... )

[OOC: NFI or B due to distance. Dialogue snurched with love from Karen Traviss' Sacrifice. And we have gotten to the "sacrifice" part of the book now. Ye be warned for character death and general woe. Comments are love.
momslilassassin: (Ben: stompy boots)
Okay, so Ben hadn't exactly followed his mother's instructions.

As soon as she'd dropped him off at the shuttle, he'd doubled back around and headed to the apartment of one of his GAG mentors.

He'd go back to Fandom tomorrow, he promised himself as he fell asleep on Shevu's couch. He just didn't want to spend another day in a shuttle.

A voice in his head he could hear--no, feel--began asking where he was.

It took him a moment to figure out that he was awake, and then to recognize where he knew the voice from: it was the Sith ship.

Sith sphere, color orange, no index number, last known registered owner: Lumiya. Ben decided to treat the ship like a stolen speeder. He owed Jacen this much, he thought as he hauled himself off the sofa and into his black jumpsuit. Jacen would never have done those things without Lumiya twisting his mind. Ben would go bring her in and this whole thing would be over.

He signed out a shuttle--the nice thing about working for the GAG was no one asked a lot of questions--and headed out into the black.

[NFB because of distance, 'stablishy...]
momslilassassin: (Ben: *emos*)
Ship had been remarkably effective at pinpointing Jacen's--what had it called it?--wake, even with him being completely shut down in the Force, and it wasn't very long at all before Ben found himself ten thousand klicks in front of the Jacen's Star Destroyer, the Anakin Solo.

Riding in an ancient, sentient, Sith meditation sphere. This was going to take some explaining. "Anakin Solo, this is Ben Skywalker of the Galactic Alliance Guard. Hold your fire...please," he transmitted.

And here thar be backstory! )


momslilassassin: (Default)
Ben Skywalker

September 2017

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