momslilassassin: ([neg] disintegrating you with my brain)
It was all over, or at least as over as it was going to get for a while. Their Fandom friends and the Jeesh returned to their separate universes after Jaina's wedding. Allana's identity was no longer a secret, Wynn Dorvan was running the galaxy, the Jedi were leaving Coruscant permanently, and Luke, well. The meddroids said that Luke would never fully recover from his attack on Abeloth. Ben tried not to think about that.

Ben was trying not to think at all.

He was clearing out the last of the stuff in his room when a hollow ache started to build inside, and then his vision narrowed and went completely black. He thought for a minute that he might be passing out--he'd certainly done enough of that recently--but there was no dizziness or nausea to suggest that the vision change was the result of a concussion. He braced a hand on the nearest wall and stood waiting for his sight to return.

Instead, stars and nebulae began to appear in the darkness, rushing toward him at extreme velocity, but with no noticeable red-shift and without spreading apart as they drew closer. He began to feel apprehensive and disoriented, as though he were traveling through a galaxy far different from the one his parents had known.

He saw Coruscant mottled by patches of flickering red flame and black banks of drifting smoke, and beyond it there was a legion of dark silhouettes rising from a shadow-cloaked world, fanning out across the galaxy to meet a much smaller force of luminous shapes.

He saw a pair of tiny disembodied eyes floating through the darkness, collecting wisps of drifting gas and specks of loose dust, in its endless patience swaddling itself in the stuff of cold matter.

And Ben saw his cousin Allana, a young girl sitting cross-legged in front of a white throne, playing with her pet nexu while a small circle of Jedi fought a desperate battle at the foot of the dais, holding off an endless onslaught of beings. There were dark silhouettes and bejeweled women and horned aliens, and every so often a gray tentacle, which would appear on the steps to the dais and attempt to slip past unnoticed before a lightsaber descended to send it skittering back into the darkness.

Ben felt a sudden, overwhelming, flash of anger. All of the pain of the last few years--the last month--and nothing had changed. The Jedi would forever fight the darkness, Abeloth would go on feinting and parrying, the Sith would peek back out from whatever rock they'd gone to ground under...it was pointless.

He glanced at the faces around Allana, looking for familiar ones, and to his surprise didn't see his father. Luke fought the darkness as easily as he breathed, and a Jedi Order without Luke Skywalker was one that, while inevitable, still took Ben's breath away. Ender had pointed out many times that the Order needed to refocus, learn to work without a Skywalker, but a vision of that as reality was both painful and a bit of a relief.

His vision gradually returned to the here and now instead of the future, and he was still feeling off-balance and angry. Why did they fight so hard and lose so much when it never changed anything?

He glanced down at his lightsaber and a thought occurred to him. He could change himself...

Let's have a heart-to-heart with Ender! )

Four years of Ben's life have led up to this moment. )

[OOC: Borrowed, then modified, from Troy Denning's Apocalpyse. Preplayed with the fabulous [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame, and concluding our two week spam of your flist!]
momslilassassin: ([neg] owowowow)
As the Rude Awakening sped onward, the fire-rimmed orbs ahead rapidly began to swell and drift apart, leaving the area between them webbed with blazing whorls of accretion gas. Against this brilliant backdrop, Ship also began to swell, growing from a propulsion halo the size of a dust mote to a dark sphere as large as Jaina’s thumb.

A constant stream of fire streaked back and forth between the two vessels, cannon bolts from the Awakening and plasma bulbs from Ship. Both vessels were taking the attacks dead center in the forward shields, making no attempt to evade. With the grasping hand of a black hole reaching from both sides of an ever-narrowing safe corridor, there was no room to maneuver or flee. Flying skill and combat training did not matter: pilots had one choice and one choice only: punch it out head-on.

And in that kind of fight, it was usually the pilot who attacked quickest and hardest who survived. Jaina checked the range and, seeing that the two vessels were closing in even faster than she thought, armed the Rude Awakening’s first missile. Jaina had chosen the Rude Awakening for good reason: it was a Void Jumper assault pinnace. That meant it could get in fast, evade detection, take a beating, and deliver a devastating attack. It was one of the most fearsome tactical combat vessels in the galaxy, designed to go head-to-head with a Mandalorian Bes’uliik and be the craft that emerged from the fireball. Jaina could not imagine any better combat transport to fly head-on against Ship—especially not after she had fitted the entire missile magazine with baradium warheads.

Talk about a rude awakening. Heh.

The targeting computer chimed once, announcing that the two crafts had closed to effective missile range. Jaina did not bother to try for a target-lock—Ship would defeat it anyway, and in this fight a quick attack was everything. She simply launched, then pulled the throttles back so the Awakening would not be inside the lethal radius when the baradium detonated. The blazing white disk of a thrust ring appeared in front of the cockpit then, as the missile streaked away, quickly shrank to a white dot. In the next instant a tiny gray dot appeared in front of the Awakening.

In an eyeblink, it expanded into the gray, oblong lump of one of Ship’s Force-hurled stones. Fighting the urge to dodge—a mistake that might well have carried them across a nearby event horizon—Jaina held the pinnace steady and thumbed the intercom pad on her control yoke.

“Brace for impact back there,” she said. “This one is going to take down our shields.”

This seems like an excellent time to go on a vision quest, doesn't it, Luke? )

Meanwhile, on Coruscant-- )

And on Abeloth's home planet, Ben gets a mouthful of tentacle. Seriously. It's nasty. )

Hooray, we won! What do we do with Vestara? )

[OOC: Troy Denning, THERE IS SO MUCH WRONG WITH YOU. Warnings for torture, violence, and death. Played out with amazing [livejournal.com profile] hoorayimrich, [livejournal.com profile] life_inshadow, and [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame. Done with the spamming for today!]
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.

SOLOS OUT SAFE WITH AMELIA.
JEDI WARV KILLED IN SITH AMBUSH LED BY VESTARA KHAI.
FALCON CRIPPLED, BUT TARGET HEALTHY FOR NOW.



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 [livejournal.com profile] life_inshadow, [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame and [livejournal.com 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] use the Force)
Ben stood watching an old Bothan limp back and forth across the grimy floor of the undercity industrial hangar. The Bothan was addressing three brigades of elite space marines--a few faces among them ones that Petra had been looking for, not that Ben coud pick them out among the thousands--explaining why he had asked them to volunteer for a mission to overthrow the Galactic Alliance’s current Chief of State, Roki Kem. Their shoulder patches represented units from a hundred different vessels stationed near Coruscant, and they all had at least two things in common: they had all served aboard a ship personally commanded by Admiral Nek Bwua’tu, and when he had commed to ask them to help him save the Galactic Alliance, they had all answered with an unwavering yes.

“… the enemy has retreated into the Jedi Temple with seventy-five percent of its forces.” The admiral’s words seemed to reverberate from every corner of the hangar as a small mike in his tunic collar relayed his voice to a network of speakers spaced throughout the formation. “This withdrawal is certainly a trap, designed to lure our Jedi friends into an ambush against a superior Sith force …”

Luke turned to another Bothan standing at his side, Admiral Bwua’tu’s dapper uncle, Eramuth. “To tell the truth, Counselor, I’m not sure why you waited for the Jedi to return,” he said quietly. “Club Bwua’tu seems to have the war well in hand without us.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out by now, Master Skywalker,” Eramuth replied, maintaining a straight face. “We needed the cannon fodder.”

“Cannon fodder?” Luke echoed, almost taking the old Bothan seriously. “You couldn’t have hired Mandalorians?”

The Bothan shook his gray-furred head. “Of course,” he said. “But they didn’t manage very well the last time they tried to storm the Temple.”

“I see,” Luke said. “It’s nice to know you have more faith in the Jedi Order.”

“There’s that.” A crooked smile snaked along Eramuth’s muzzle, then he added, “And you do work for free.”

Luke activated the mike on his own collar and stepped to the admiral’s side. “First, I want to thank you all for volunteering for this mission. As Admiral Bwua’tu has explained, it’s not just the Jedi Temple we are liberating. The Lost Tribe of the Sith has infiltrated every level of the Galactic Alliance government, and our victory today will prevent them from achieving their goal of dominion over the entire galaxy. Your objective is to draw the Sith forces to the Temple’s outer shell. Once you have succeeded, I will be able to deactivate the Temple shields and open the blast doors from a central location. When that occurs, Admiral Bwua’tu expects the Sith to stand their ground and continue fighting. Assuming he’s correct, the Jedi will launch a series of attacks from the Temple interior, driving the enemy out onto the Temple exterior, where they will be exposed to fire from your assault carriers’ heavy weapons.”

Sensing a tide of uncertainty rising inside the minds of the veteran soldiers, Luke opened his palm and motioned for patience, acknowledging their questions before the first one could be asked. “If they don’t do as the admiral anticipates—”

Ben watched as a hand was raised among the crowd. Luke turned to him. “Yes?”

“How certain are you that you’ll be able to bring the shields down and open those blast doors?” a familiar voice that Ben couldn't quite place asked.

“Not as certain as I’d like to be,” Luke admitted. “But if the first attempt fails, we’ll keep trying.”

“Until?” The voice didn't sound especially pleased by this plan.

Luke grew somber. “Until we can’t anymore,” he said. “And if that happens, there’ll be a baradium strike.”

“After I call off the Temple assault, of course,” Bwua’tu clarified. “If I order a withdrawal, waste no time before obeying. We won’t be giving the enemy time to escape, so the missiles will be on the way as I speak.” The hangar reverberated with the crump of thousands of boot heels cracking together, and Bwua’tu nodded in satisfaction.

“Good.” The admiral turned to Luke, then said, “I think we’re ready to assign the liaisons.”

Luke began assigning Jedi Knights to the various batallions, skipping over Bazel Warv. Ben noticed immediately how Bazel's ears slumped in disappointment, and he moved closer to see what was going on, not realizing that Vestara was following him as well.

“Did I do something wrong, Master Skywalker?” Bazel asked in his gravelly voice. “I just want to—”

“You did nothing wrong.” Luke reached up and placed a hand on one of Bazel’s huge biceps. “But I’ve received a message from the Solos. They’re on their way here to see you. They need you to do something for Amelia."

“It must have something to do with the secret.”

Ben's heart rose into his throat. “Amelia’s secret?” he saw his father ask. “How did you find—”

“The other secret, Master Skywalker!” Bazel interrupted, shaking his big head from side to side. “Not her name!”

Luke looked as stunned as Ben felt. Bazel’s voice grew soft and he stared past Ben, straight at Vestara. “Master Skywalker, I can’t tell you right now.”

Ben watched the appraising look on Vestara's face and realized she'd heard everything. He was going to have to watch her very carefully. If she took the information of who Amelia--Allana--was back to the Sith who seemed downright obsessed with the idea of a prophesized Jedi Queen...

No. Ben'd had far too many relatives die young. If it came down to a choice between Allana and Vestara, there was no choice at all.

But first a call from Ender! )

It's a Troy Denning book. Cue the battle sequence! Warning for gross injuries of people you know. )
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: ([neg] disintegrating you with my brain)
Ben could think of about ten thousand planets--including Hoth, Tatooine, Ziost, and the stupid hole the Hidden One had lived in--before he'd have voluntarily set foot on before Dromund Kaas, a planet so seeped in the dark side that Luke had erased it from star charts and general Jedi records for the safety of the public.

But here he was anyway, stomping through the humid guck with his father, his cousin, and Vestara, searching for Abeloth and trying not to lose his lunch because of the physical and spiritual nausea he was feeling.

“I don’t like this,” Luke said without preamble an hour into their search. “More than half a dozen places searched and no one’s found anything. Nothing at all.”

“Well,” Ben offered, “the galaxy is a fairly large place.”

“Of course,” Luke said, “but we should still be finding something. If nothing else, I’m surprised Abeloth hasn’t taunted us in some way. She needs an audience. This absolute inability to find anything at all, about either her and Ship or the Lost Tribe—” He shook his head. “It’s not adding up. She’s not hiding from us because she’s afraid. She’s hiding because she’s planning something. Combine that with the same inexplicable disappearance of the Lost Tribe—I’m willing to bet that they’re working together. They’re planning something. And when Abeloth and the Lost Tribe drop out of sight to plan something—it’s going to be very big, and very bad.”

Ben sighed. “Well, I don’t think we’re going to find them here.”

Sith are drama queens, news at 11. )

[OOC: Adapted from Christie Golden's Ascension. Warnings for NPC death and soooo much scenery chewing.]
momslilassassin: ([neu] focused)
The attack came later than Ben had anticipated--past midnight instead of at sunset--and with a lack of subtlety that spoke of a hurriedly thrown together plan.

But then, Ben reflected, lightsaber glowing as he stared down the cliffs into the forest as they prepared for a third salvo, how subtle could you be when you were attacking with rancors?

"It's unfolding like we thought," he commented to Ender, "no cohesion between the groups. I'm now accepting brilliant suggestions on how to fix that. We're down to half-strength."

Don't get eaten by rancors, boys )

[Follows this, NFB, NFI, loosely adapted from Aaron's Allston's Backlash and concluding our summer of preplay flist spam! Thank you sooooo much to [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame for putting up with my insanity on this!]
momslilassassin: ([neg] lost little boy)
Ben woke up in the predawn hours, though he hadn't slept much during the night either. He'd finished his work on the lightsaber around midnight, and that was about the only constructive thing he'd accomplished.

He sat up where he'd slept, a couple meters from the campfire, wrapped his blankets around him, and began a series of breathing exercises, hoping to be as detached and reflective as Jedi should be.

When Darth Caedus died, and Lumiya before him, and when Tahiri had shown no sign of wishing to follow the Sith traditions, Ben had hoped it meant the Sith were gone for good. Oh, of course there had been suggestions otherwise: the continued existence of Ship, the rumors of dying Sith communities out in the galaxy somewhere. But he could ignore them. They weren't in his face, waving lightsabers.

That had changed with the arrival of the Sith strike team in the Maw. Most of the Sith that Ben and Luke and Ender had fought had been at the level of training of an experienced Jedi Knight. Luke described Vestara's female companion as being the approximate level of a Jedi Master, and Ben didn't feel lucky enough to hope that the strike team had been the last representatives of this new Sith Order.

So there were Sith again, and part of him, the younger Ben who'd been tortured and nearly turned by Darth Caedus, was still a little afraid of them. Death didn't frighten him. Becoming like Jacen...that was another matter.

Where Ender and Ben talk about Sith and the amazing Skywalker-Solo parenting skills )

Where the score in verbal sparring becomes Vestara 2, Ben 0. )

[Taken and adapted from Backlash by Aaron Allston. NFB, NFI.]
momslilassassin: ([neu] feeling a little gangster)
Dathomir, Ben thought a little darkly, was picking up where the Maw had left off. First they'd been hassled by a low-level bureaucrat for even being on the planet, then they'd run into one of the Dathomiri witches who'd used Force lightning to short-circuit their lightsabers, comm equipment, and unfortunately, the speeders they'd been riding on.

So now they were tromping through the rain forest on foot, following the blood trail that Luke had put on the Sith girl and trying to avoid the increasingly devious traps the Dathomiri witch was placing in front of them. Ben was currently meditating while Luke and Ender stood watch, trying to get a better idea of where their little shadow was hiding.

He reached into the Force and found...Aunt Leia. He let out a sigh of relief and set her a Force-pulse of reassurance--the mental equivalent of a smile--and then looked around for the Dathomiri witch. He found her nearby: stringing cord to turn a patch of poorly balanced boulders on a hillside into a dangerous deadfall. She was unhappy about it, Ben could tell, upset that this trap was so much more dangerous than the other ones, but she wanted, needed them to go away.

He opened up his eyes again. "We still need to head northwest?" he asked his father, who nodded. "Then we need to watch out for rockfalls." He smiled at Ender. "I have our tactic all prepared: when the rocks fall, we get out of the way."

The exploits of Ben Skywalker, master tactician, continue! )

[OOC: Taken and tweaked from Aaron Allston's Backlash in the Fate of the Jedi series. NFI, NFB, say hello to Vestara, everyone.]
momslilassassin: ([neg] oh noes!)
That awful smell, Ben realized, was probably him. It reminded him of sour nerf milk, with a hint of ash and mildew. His tongue lay in his mouth like a raw sausage, his left eye could barely open (thank you, Ender), and he generally felt sore and weak, with a throbbing, muddled head that made him feel like he'd died and just didn't realize it yet.

Which, Ben suddenly remembered, was a distinct possibility. He stared up into the red strobing of the control room's alarm lights, then glanced over at the IV drip bags he'd brought to hydrate himself. They'd been drained, which meant he'd been Mind Walking for much longer than just a day.

"Now I see why they'd rather die than return to their bodies," he gasped out after a couple of tries.

When no reply came, Ben looked over and found his father still lying motionless on his gurney, his gaze vacant and fixed on the ceiling.

"Dad?!"

Where there is introspection and then ass kicking. )

[OOC: And that's it for Abyss! Preplayed with the always amazing [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame. Warnings for lightsabering with extreme prejudice. NFB, NFI, OOC is always welcomed.]
momslilassassin: ([neu] meditating)
A few minutes—or a lifetime—of meditation with Rhondi and Ben felt himself slipping free of his body. He had a thousand questions about what was happening to him, about how long they had been gone and what would happen to his body. But when Rhondi appeared next to him, looking more refreshed and beautiful than she ever had, he had only one thing to ask her: “How do we find my father?”

She extended her hand. “Take my hand and walk with me into the light.”

At any other time, Ben would have had a comment about how walking into the light sounded a bit ominous, but right now Ben did as she instructed, and together they walked into the crackling purple radiance beyond the viewport. He was instantly filled with an eternal, boundless bliss beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He became one with the Force, melted into it and was filled with a calm joy as vast as the galaxy itself. How long he and Rhondi hung there together, Ben would never know. It was less than an eyeblink, long as eternity.

And suddenly Ben was looking out on a narrow black mountain lake with a surface as still as glass. From one shore rose a sheer granite face, sloping toward a domed summit lit with the light of a blue sun. Along the other shore lay a boulder-strewn meadow. Directly ahead was his father standing next to Ryontarr and the Givin, looking toward a half-hidden female form floating in the silver mists that concealed the far end of the lake.

Ben released Rhondi’s hand, no longer consumed by the same sense of urgency that had been troubling him on the station. True, his father had grown perilously weak over the last few weeks, and true his own life was also in peril since the Mind Walkers were still trying to kill them. But Ben had left such mundane worries behind with his body. He’d swum in the incomprehensible infinity of the universe, and now he understood: life and death were the same because moments did not vanish, could not be consumed like air or water or nutripaste. They existed once and forever, spread across the entire continuity of the universe. Just as atoms gathered together to make matter, moments gathered in packets of minutes and hours, which mortals perceived as time passing.

But those packets were no more the essence of time than sunlight was the essence of a star, heat the essence of fire. They were simply the perceptions through which the mind of finite beings experienced the infinite. When he had time to think about it, he wondered how this would change his perceptions of his vision of Jacen, or the view of the future he’d experienced with Ender.

Now—for the given value of now—he had to talk to his father. “That was some trip,” he said with a smile.

Where Ben and Luke go on an extremely trippy...something )

[OOC: Taken and modified from Abyss by Troy Denning. Contains gratuitous icons of Christian Bale and happens at the same time as this. NFB, NFI, OOC is love.]
momslilassassin: ([neg] brooding is a family thing)
The repairs were finished on the ship, and Luke still hadn't returned from beyond shadows. Ben was returning from his daily trip to check on him (his dad's suck-nozzle kept shifting out of his mouth and he was getting pretty dehydrated), and had poked around some of the other ships looking for anything food-like.

The Mind Drinkers had made themselves at home as visitors in the Shadow and were going through provisions faster than Ben had thought possible. At this point, the first thing they'd have to do when they left the Maw was get more supplies. At the beginning it had been worth it to get them to feel comfortable and learn about how they'd ended up here, but Ben was getting uncomfortable with how comfortable two of them in particular--Rolund and Rhondi Tremaine--had gotten with just stopping by to talk to Ender for hours. And eating everything in sight.

Ben wasn't jealous. At all. Really.

And also shut up.

"Ender?" he called as he stepped aboard the ship again. "You around?"

Where Ben goes a little crazy. Maybe. A tad. )
momslilassassin: ([neg] crying)
Ben wondered if he should have had a sanisteam and something hot to eat before attempting what he was about to do, but it was too late now. He trudged slowly to the spot where he, Luke, and Ender had spent so many days learning from Tadar'Ro. It all looked as it had before, the time-smoothed stones warm from the sun, the taller stones casting cool shadows. But didn't feel the same to Ben.

Here was where Tadar'Ro had taught Luke, and Ender, and Ben, and Jorj Car'das.

And here was where Tadar'Ro had taught Jacen Solo.

Hello again, Jacen. )

Where Ben has a long-delayed nervous breakdown )

[OOC: And we're done with Christie Golden's Omen. Many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame for the preplay on this one. NFB, NFI, OOC given donuts. Man, I want a donut.]
momslilassassin: ([neu] bw staring)
Ben had not been pleased to hear that that place where Aing-Tii artifacts was called the Embrace (a word that was going to be followed by "of Pain", at least for the next little...decade...) and had been even less pleased to learn that Taran'Do's "few kilometer" walk to it was a three day hike up mountains on a planet already too light on oxygen for humans. The rift between Ben and Luke about Ben's flow-walking training had become tense to the point of uncomfortable silence.

Finally they had gotten to the passageway, where their only instructions had been: "Inside, you will find all the artifacts we have painstakingly gathered over many thousands of years. Tread carefully, for this is sacred ground to us. Go to the relics. Be with them. Please...find answers for us that we cannot, so that we might heal this terrible rift that wounds us as a people so deeply."

They had descended into a cavern lit from within by glowing stones in every color along the spectrum and imbued strongly with the Force--not the dark energy Ben had felt on Ziost, but one that refreshed.

...or it had a week ago. Now, as they lifted and stared at relic after relic, no closer to an idea of what they were looking for than when he'd began, Ben wished that the words that reverberated in his head weren't his father commenting that he still had nine years and a few months of his exile to fill.

"They couldn't have narrowed it down to blue things, or something round?" he complained.

Will they be stuck in a cave FOREVER? )

[OOC: All power and glory to Christie Golden's Omen and preplayed with the amazing [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame. NFB, NFI, OOC welcome!]
momslilassassin: ([neu] gobsmacked)
The Kathol Rift was easily the most beautiful spatial phenomena Ben had ever seen in his life, which in no way made up for how horrible it was to fly through. The properties that made the Rift so beautiful also turned every ship that entered it into a lightning rod and made flying the mechanical equivalent of riding a spooked ronto for days at a time.

It was exhausting (no thanks to the kriffing hallucinated spiders), even with three pilots and Luke calling on the new training he'd learned from the Baran Do sages to stop the Jade Shadow from short-circuiting outright and leaving them all to drift powerless in space until the breathable atmosphere ran out.

So it was a relief to Ben that the Aing-Tii finally made contact (via their ship--which hadn't been anywhere near the Shadow just appearing on their scopes) and directed them with very specific coordinates (down to the second they should jump) to a planet that Luke identified as their homeworld.

Ben read off the planetary specifics as Luke landed. "It's a little light on oxygen for us, but we won't need breath masks," he said, "and thank the Force for that. Who are we looking for when we disembark?"

Luke smiled. "They didn't say."

"Oh, good," Ben muttered. "More cryptic Force users."

Ooh, new aliens to be terrified by! )

[OOC: Adapted from Christie Golden's Omen and preplayed with the spendiforous [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame. NFB, NFI, OOC welcome!]
momslilassassin: (Default)
Luke, Ben and Ender were sitting around the table in the galley when the holographic communications array chimed softly. Luke frowned. "I wasn't expecting to hear from Cilghal for four more hours," he said, reaching forward to tap the controls, "and you can set your chrono by her."

An image of the Mon Calamari Jedi, about a third of a meter tall, appeared in the center of the table. She nodded her head. "Much has happened in the last few hours, Grand Master. There's been another incident with a Jedi Knight. Jysella Horn. I witnessed it." Cilghal then went on to explain how Jysella had been fine on moment and fighting for her life the next--against the Jedi Master--and fled the Temple.

"She escaped the Temple? How? There's Jedi all over the place!" Ben blurted.

Speak to us, Exposition Fairy, and tell us where to go next! )

[OOC: It's a new book! Taken from Christie Golden's Omen, preplayed with the always fantastic [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame, and NFB for distance, but totally open for emails and phone calls!]
momslilassassin: ([neu] looking up)
After scaling the walls of the temple, the Jedi and Ender stood before the platform where Charsae Saal had said his goodbyes and tried to figure out the trick to the Baran Do sage's disappearance. "If we assume this is the means by which he vanished, there's probably a mechanism somewhere," Luke said thoughtfully. "If he triggered it himself, it was with the Force."

"We would have felt that," Ben pointed out, narrowing his eyes and moving his fingers along the edge of the platform. "Someone else must have helped."

Luke snapped his fingers and a portion of the top platform swung down, leaving a gap easily large enough for a good-sized human or a Kel Dor to fit through. "Shall we?"

"Masters first," Ben replied immediately.

They used the hook and line that Luke had kept on his belt for as long as Ben could remember, repelling 10 meters down a dark hole and found themselves in a storage chamber of some kind, standing on a hydraulic platform that, retracted as it was now, was almost at floor level, but when raised would go to the ceiling and the hidden entrance above.

"Pretty simple," Ben whispered before he and Ender followed Luke through a permacrete-lined corridor towards the living beings Ben could sense through the Force.

"Might as well barge in," Luke said, shrugging.

"They're Baran Do Sages," Ben agreed. "They're not going to try to kill people for prowling through their basement, I hope."

Skywalkers were amazing planners.

Breaking and Entering for Great Justice! )

[OOC: Taken from Aaron Allston's Outcast, then folded into origami cranes with the help of [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame. NFB, NFI, and the guys are kind of incommunicado for the...um, foreseeable future?]
momslilassassin: ([neu] i have a sweater)
Fresh from the Jade Shadow's sanisteam and dressed in clean robes, Ben joined Ender and his father in the main cabin for their nightly meal of reheated prepackaged meals.

"You know that thing where the sages decide that it's time to die and they just will themselves to do it?" he began between bites of nerf loaf and tuber mash. "One of the Baran Do masters--the senior combat instructor, Charsae Saal--has decided to do it tomorrow. He was working with Ender and me today and invited us all to attend the ceremony."

"Did you talk to him about his choice?" Luke asked.

Ben nodded. "We didn't just blurt out Why have you decided to die? or anything, but Ender asked some questions about the ceremony and I told him that from a human perspective, it was sad when a good person died because they took their knowledge with them. He said he was leaving his knowledge behind."

"Huh," Luke replied.

"What did you learn today?"

"I learned to make a ball float at a constant altitude but not make it be still."

Ben decided that the combat training sounded way more interesting. "You also had a busy day," he said a little dryly instead. "Talking to other Baran Do sages, I was getting a strange sense about Charsae Saal's decision. The students were sad. So were the Baran Do Masters, but it was different."

"Of course it was," Luke said. "Masters tend to have a greater depth of philosophy and understanding about such things--"

"Dad, they were even sadder."

That brought Luke up short. "What's that again?"

"I got the impression that the Masters had even deeper regret."

"Interesting," Luke said finally. "Now I'm certain we need to attend."

Alien funerals for the win? )

[OOC: Taken and adapted from Aaron Allston's Outcast, preplayed with [livejournal.com profile] endsthegame, NFI, NFB, void in Delaware.]

Profile

momslilassassin: (Default)
Ben Skywalker

September 2017

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24 252627282930

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 26th, 2017 10:57 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios