Fires Of Liberty

Dying on the inside is great

Dargranias Mental Processes

Do you know how it feels to have everything you know and love lost to you and you realize that they never got a chance to find out what happened to you and that must have felt terrible and how much pain was felt especially those kriffing idiots who did the stealing away of the you while said everything you lost tore through their collective hides and you just wish the galaxy would just wither and die or be swallowed up by a supermassive black hole?
I now do.

I woke up in what passes for a field hospital on Tatooine, mildly surprised that I was able to move at all. Trying to recall the details of how I landed myself here among the wounded and unconscious, I realized with a start that all of my equipment was gone. And I nearly screamed bloody murder. Thankfully though, I was able to locate Kronk while he, Cavisek, and the crew where attempting to locate their equipment. Their efforts led us to an establishment run by a Toydarian named Steve, or something to that effect… Stressing a need for haste, Kronk dealt with him, securing us easy access to the stored equipment, enabling some of ours to lift some extra equipment along with our own in the process. Just one problem arose by this point; my equipment was nowhere to be seen. Furious, I confronted the Toydarian and demanded to know what happened to my possessions, only to be told that the little bastard never received my equipment in the first place.
Needless to say, this information angered me. Desperate to find my possessions, I stormed out of the establishment, determined to find whoever was foolish enough to steal from me, and subject them to horrors their worst nightmares wouldn’t be able to create. Then Kali entered my view, and I remembered the information I gleaned from her mind; she was the crew’s mechanic! I immediately asked if it were possible for her to track comm signals from my armor, and I provided the frequency I last left it on. She responded affirmatively, and set to work deploying small droids into the area, which apparently allowed her to start tracking the signal. After some time, her efforts yielded a location, a ruined settlement of sorts known locally as the Tusken Fortress. Inquiring with the locals about the place yielded many bewildered responses, with most insisting it was too dangerous to approach, even via air. Knowing from personal experience the vicious nature of Tusken warriors, I could understand their fear, but this would not dissuade me. I demanded that we head out to the fort, and crush it in an attempt to recover what was mine. My wishes where met with almost no resistance, surprisingly, and the crew began making plans to fly over the location and bombard the fort from above if it proved to be a dangerous location. I agreed to this course of action, as it was better that my personal items be destroyed along with the thieves, than have the memories they represent defiled by their touch. I anticipated slaughter, and I got it.
We approached the fort from high altitude, anticipating some sort of counterattack, but surprisingly encountered nothing. Seeing this as strange, the crew began scanning the area for signs of inhabitants, and found to our surprise, a sandcrawler and a group of Jawas occupying the fort. Several of the crew debated setting down and talking with them, but to my delight, Kronk sprang into action! Clearly anticipating a fight, based on our previous discussions, he targeted the sandcrawler with the ship’s missile systems, and fired! The shot was perfect. It tore completely through the behemoth, raining fire and molten metal everywhere! Jawas where flung in pieces every direction imaginable, and the searing heat ignited everything in the area, leading to the death of countless Jawa thieves. When we landed to inspect Kronk’s handiwork, I was amazed and delighted to find that my personal effects where present and miraculously unharmed! The Jawa who held my prizes was quite the sight to behold, kneeling on the ground, staring up into the sky with tears of cauterized blood fused to its face, clutching my lightsaber and cortosis armor in its cracked and scorched hands. Overjoyed I retrieved my effects and immediately replaced the ragged ensemble I had on me with my proper attire, aahhh… my perfectly crafted armor, freshly scented with the surrounding carnage, my crimson blade, humming and snapping delightfully as I tested it on the corpse that once held it. The vulnerability that I had been feeling all this while slips away, and I feel so delighted by what happened that I immediately seek out Kronk and honestly praise his excellent decision to eradicate the vermin and his displayed skill as a weapons expert. He will definitely be of use to me in the future…
Having finished with the Jawa’s, we returned to town, and our captain and crew began to investigate the explosion that had rendered us unconscious to begin with. My usefulness unfortunately was reduced, as we soon discovered a corpse within the debris, close to the epicenter of the explosion, that seemed to “push the force away”. This severely hampered my efforts to help, as attempting to enter the vicinity was enough to render me powerless and effectively blind. Unable to perform an autopsy on the cadaver, while our captain made arrangements to travel in search of a doctor from his earlier years, I took it upon myself to familiarize myself with the recent galactic events, and accessed his ship’s holofeeds. And immediately something struck me as strange. The events and dates mentioned in the news feeds I could access did not match with any ongoing events or conflicts I could remember. Headlines about power struggles with the New Republic and First Order dominated the feeds, and conflicts with other factions that had not been in play during the height of my power where everywhere throughout the galaxy. I brought my questions about this to other members of the crew, and they became equally confused, claiming to know nothing about several conflicts I made mention of, and seemingly thinking the dates I gave to them where part of a separate “Miralukan calendar”. I even mentioned the name of the Republic’s Supreme Chancellor (the Twi’lek, Leontyne Saresh), and only received blank looks, with everyone claiming to have never heard of her. Unfortunately, my access to the holonet was quite restricted on this vessel, and I determined that the best course of action would be to check a terminal at our next port… and so we left for Kessel…
The travel was largely uneventful, and we landed unhindered, a good start to our journey. There where some minor distractions here and there, mostly traders attempting to stop us and sell some of their product. It was here that I was given information about a fascinating new drug called Frangawl, and informed by my crew that it supposedly was made of people, and that force users seemed to be involved either in the manufacture or as an ingredient. Facinated, I convinced Cavisek to obtain some samples for me to test, netting me five vials of one dose apiece. Afterwords, seeing that I would not be needed in searching for the doctor in question, I made my way to an access terminal…
And so, here I stand, finally with access to a terminal that feeds into the galactic Holonet. And what I have found, disturbs me. I now know the truth of my fate; through the machinations of unknown enemies, I was locked away from the galaxy, and have emerged in my weakened state several millennia beyond my last memories. My senses twist and roil around me, I can no longer see anything clearly. Visions begin to flash in my mind, revealing conflicting events, old memories of battle, suffering and death blend with visions of my allies and closest friends searching, fighting, bleeding, suffering, wailing, torturing, raging, burning, killing, failing, falling, and crying out in despair. My strongest vision grasps me and I double over in agony, old wounds burning angrily as they remember the pain I have suffered, I see my two. My lovely two. The only two that matter. My Ghost and my Spymaster. He searches the void of space, endlessly seeking, endlessly questioning, never finding. He never weeps, he presses forward always, he cannot break, he confides in her… She investigates, uproots the conspiracy, questions the involved, only to be denied as they fall on their own blades in defiance. She silently despairs, but stands tall and performs her duty, she directs his shadow, both in unison, both broken, never to be whole…
My wounds, the pain bleeds into my stomach. Bile rises in my throat, heat travels up my chest, chills down my spine. I swallow, the vision loses power, I can’t discern my fears from actual visions, I imagine ghosts that should not exist surrounding me. Looking on in worry, fear, disgust, rage. My two stand before me. The pain rages, tearing, biting, cutting, burning, searing, my heart feels it shall burst. They reach out for me. I reach back… the vision ends. I am standing alone. Barely a second has passed. My lightsaber is in hand. The terminal blinks, drawing my attention again. The pain flows forth like a wave, my saber carries it in wild arcs. I scream, my rage building as I tear into the terminal, flecks of molten metal scatters in all directions, sparks erupt from cut conduits, bouncing harmlessly off me. A molten pile of slag and wire greets me as my senses return. My anger begins to cool, but my attention turns to something I find myself holding. One of the vials. The Frangawl. It seems almost to invite me, and I sense that I would enjoy imbibing it. My hand shakes, I raise the vial…
“Don’t.” She says. I stop my hand. “Chemical analysis.” He says. I gaze at the vial curiously. Yes… it would be the height of foolishness to try an unknown substance on myself without knowing its contents an purpose… “You will have to wait for another time.” I say to the little vial as I tuck it away. “We need to be rational.” I can imagine her saying. This is true, I have to keep my wits about me, in this strange new existence. “We have to prioritize survival; first thing is to obtain resources and identify potential allies.” I can almost hear him say. Already on it, provided my judgment of Cavisek and his crew was right. Ah, well… I suppose I already have a proper ally if I count Kronk… even if I only have known him for a few days… “Really…” I can imagine both of them shaking their heads exasperated, clearly displeased that that I am letting my emotion rule my thoughts. I chuckle softly at them… but they are not there to hear it. I choke back a sob…
Do you know how it feels…

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