Subject: [OTL]: (alt. Betsy/Star Wars) Fanged Butterfly 2: Knightcross 24/? (R) From: Phil Hartman Date: Mon, 31 Mar 2008 05:19:53 +0000 will1@earthling.net Fanged Butterfly Vol. 2: Knightcross Chapter 24 by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: Marvel's are Marvel's. LFL's are LFL's. Any original characters are mine. The rest belong to their owners/creators. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue. WARNING: Graphic imagery, violence and mature themes. ---------------------------------------------- 40 ABY: Vjun System, Outer Rim Territories, 17 days after the Battle of Corellia: ---------------------------------------------- The coralskipper came out of hyperspace smoothly, stirring Ben as he yawned on a bed of hau polyps and a shearing beast scuttled off of his head. He ran a hand over his now-shaved scalp, smiling that he matched Jacen's hairlessness. #My Master's,# part of the boy ... gushed. Ben blushed at the ... devotion he was feeling; he'd come along to gather information and help people, not bow down before his cousin. But if Jasa WAS back, if he wasn't lost, just ... taking things a little too far ... Ben owed him a chance to come back. ONE last chance. Ben tried not to think he was being naive. He'd been TORTURED, implanted with Vongtech ... ...but so had Jasa. They were a matched set. Who'd greeted Ben when the boy had first walked out of the shaping chamber, who'd hugged him and helped him get cleaned up? Who'd accepted Ben completely after the changes, who'd accepted Ben BACK after Ben had betrayed him? #Watch him. CLOSE,# Ben reminded himself, before entering the cockpit. Jacen wasn't using a cognition hood, the boy remembered. If anything, he was seemingly guiding the 'skip with the Force. That shouldn't be possible. And Ben ... was awed. /All things in time. Just like I told you, we're not the old Sith. No need for you to kill me someday ... unless I prove weak,/ Jacen thought, looking over at Ben when the boy sat beside him. The bald elder cousin smiled approvingly at Ben's equally shaved head and said, "You'll fit in just fine." Ben grinned; he was like his big brother, and it felt ... wonderful. "Hope you didn't kark with my digestive tract. I could eat a dianoga," Ben said, his stomach rumbling as Jacen chuckled. "That sense of humor. I missed it. Trust me, after the first day, you'll love it here," Jacen said, and the 'skip approached Vjun. Or what SHOULD'VE been Vjun ... because what Ben knew from his astrogation lessons was that Vjun was a gray, acid raining desolate rock with flesheating moss. The disk rapidly growing in the front viewscreen was green and blue. And inviting. Even the ripples of dark energy ... and that whisper of ... otherness Ben recognized as his growing Vongsense felt comforting. "Reach out. Take her in - she knows the way, just get used to the controls," Jacen offered, letting Ben reach out through the weird fuzzy feeling and meld his focus with the coralskipper. The boy GASPED at the rightness of it, at the warmth he was feeling ... how his implants hummed, along with Jasa's, and a host of welcoming minds through the Force. Someone was waiting for them. A LOT of someones. ALL with Force sensitivity, of different strengths. And one in particular ... oddly familiar. Young, curious and friendly ... and overjoyed to feel Jacen returning. /He's the one I need your help saving. The others ... it's the effect of their yammosk cell implants. But the subjects needed to have Vong implants already, or undergo new implants,/ Jacen explained. Ben closed his eyes ... and the skip descended. He could ignore the sensation of scorching from the reentry, and felt relief and a flood of dark ... warmth as the dovin basal shut down and the skip extended landing struts. He opened his eyes, eager to bow down - WHAT!? "Sorry. The yammosk effect tends to lower inhibitions, increase devotion," Jasa said, reinforcing Ben's shields. Ben was WAY past having a bad feeling about this. Jasa just rubbed Ben's bald scalp and said, "Don't be scared, please? I'll explain everything, really." Ben wanted to believe ... honestly, this time. And that scalp rub felt good. Like a father's gentle ruffling of hair ... not that Ben missed hair ... They slipped out of the skip, and Ben had to shield his eyes against the sunlight ... That alone told him that Vjun had changed. The acid clouds were gone; the once barren soil overflowed with senelok plants and Vong grasses, as yanskacs hunted each other and various Vong herbivores. As far as the Vong part of Ben felt, he WAS home. And then they came ... An honor guard of humans - all colors, mostly young adults or younger, both genders, altered as Ben and Jacen had been, formed a dual line along the walkway to Bast Castle. The castle, itself, was draped in giant sized thorn vines as if the whole structure was in an Embrace of Pain. Somehow, Ben didn't feel the least bit embarrassed that he was one among a crowd of naked people, all of whom were radiating ... devotion ... to Jacen. They were all warrior caste, even if not all were ready to fight. But the Force was with them all. Ben barely managed not to join his fellow Shaped Ones as they intoned, "Hail, Supreme Dark Lord." That the words were in Yuuzhan Vong felt ... good. "Supreme Dark Lord!" Ben heard, and he saw a young bald woman running toward them while the other ... Shaped Sith? Ben heard ... went about their duties. The boy wasn't embarrassed at the fact that either he or the woman were naked; she was one of the inner circle, a fellow Shaped One ... and cute ... #WHOA!?# Ben thought, shaking his head, and Jacen winked at the boy as Ben blushed. /Yammosk effect. I warned you,/ Jasa teased. "Warmaster. What readiness state are we at? Korriban won't BDZ itself," Jacen continued, his eyes going ... RAINBOW colored? The woman glanced at Ben, then smiled welcomingly, and a gush of affection washed over him before she bowed to Jacen. "The skip fields are harvesting well. We have more than 500 ships ready; the carriers are primed for jump at your command. 1,000 warriors are completely trained, their weapons fully grown," the Warmaster said, an amphistaff wrapped around one bare leg as she walked just a step behind Jacen. Ben also fell in step behind his Master... and gaped. The Warmaster had supposedly DIED at the Battle of Kuat almost a week ago. "You make a cute Darth of the Shaped Ones, Bennie," she grinned. "SYAL!?" Ben squeaked. "Lady Starflare, please. A Shaped One spy ship picked me up from my fighter's wreckage, and Jacen's followers saved me. The Force is so ASTRAL to fly a skip with," former Galactic Alliance pilot Syal Antilles said, her scalp glinting as they walked. She grinned wickedly and added, "I heard you call me cute ..." "He's 14, Syal. And aren't you the mature Antilles sister?" Jacen said, rolling his eyes ... which swirled with rainbows again. "You tell us use our passion to draw on the full spectrum of the Force ... Myri gets Ewoks. Plural. Aren't Sith supposed to be naughty?" Syal pouted, and Ben gulped ... She sighed, becoming sad, and continued, "Sorry. Ever since I lost ... my fiancee at Kuat, I've been ..." "The dark side can cloud people. I still trust you," Ben said, trying to reassure his family's old friend - and now, his fellow Shaped One. The latter felt more ... right, than the former, and Syal's gratitude and affection rang through the Force as she rubbed Ben's bald scalp, making him smile. "You are a REAL sweetheart. Too bad you're so young. Some young fem'll probably scoop you up," Syal said, glancing at Jacen as they stopped at the castle gates. "If our sources are correct, my uncle's infiltration team should reach Korriban soon. NOBODY is to attack until I give the order; the last thing we want is to risk the Jedi or tip our hand," Jacen told Syal, letting her head toward a field of distant coralskippers and frigate analogues. "You really don't want Dad hurt," Ben said, leaning on Jacen when he put an arm around the boy and the gates slid inward. "Never, Ben. And Anakin and Jaina are on that mission, too. Now ... you've met some of the adults. Come meet the next generation of Shaped Ones ... the natural-borns," Jacen said, leading Ben into a courtyard full of kids, altered like the adults. "Natural-borns ... we breed true?" Ben gasped, watching with a growing smile as he watched Shaped One children playing tag, kicking balls around or practicing combat moves. Some of them waved, and Ben waved back, returning shy smiles. A few knots of older teens, of both genders, were sparring with amphistaffs ... or lightsabers, and Ben nodded at them with a growing smile as they greeted him. He looked at Jacen as he said, "None of the natural-borns are older than 10, since I didn't establish this shelter until 30 ABY. "But there are a few hundred of them, and a few hundred kids your age who were exposed to Vong poisons near the end of the War, who were shaped in the past few years after we rescued them. We're not sterile ... " Ben blushed, both grateful and a little embarrassed ... and marveled that everyone ELSE'S skin had the chameleon effect. And they were all OK with who they were - happy. Except for one quiet little boy sitting on a bench, watching the other bald children and occasionally coughing. That child's skin was paler than the others, and his claws and talons looked dull. But when the boy saw Jacen and Ben, he lit up like a nova, laughing and pouring joy into the Force - a natural-born Force user, like them - and Jacen swept the boy up, like ... "You're HOME! You're OK! I missed you! I was scared when I saw the holos from the Senate - you keep tellin' ME I can't shoot lightning," the boy said, pouting a little. "OK, I've been naughty. You been behaving?" Jacen said, glancing ... worriedly at Ben, as the little boy smiled shyly. And Ben gasped - he was seeing ... "I'm sorry. You were too young to keep a secret, no offense. The Hapans would've killed him. His Shaped One status was obvious at birth ... except for the talons, fortunately. Tenel Ka had no hope of protecting him," Jacen said, gratitude and relief filling the Force as he set the boy down, and Ben knelt down to let the boy look at him more closely. "So ... I mindrubbed her; only medical droids and nanny droids knew of ... his existence, and they could be wiped. Allana doesn't seem to have a Force bond with him," Jacen said, a little sad, as he looked down with pride and protectiveness. "Ben Skywalker, meet your cousin ... Tace'n Djo Solo, Prince of Alderaan, exiled Prince of Hapes ... "My son. And he needs your help ... because he's dying." Ben gaped, briefly horrified - of COURSE he'd help - and Jacen's gratitude and relief at Ben's understanding washed away the teen's lingering fears. "You're like us," Tace - the nickname came easily - said, running a small hand over Ben's bald scalp, then over his own hairless head. "I AM one of you. And if you want, I'll be your big brother," Ben offered - if he could see Allana as a sibling, why not Tace? "Really!? ASTRAL!" Tace gushed, hugging Ben, and Jacen beamed. Ben laughed as he returned his little brother's hug. He was home. ------------------------------------------------------------ Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban, Outer Rim: ------------------------------------------------------------ The swoop bike raced to a halt before the shabby looking, blue-tiled fortress near the valley's mouth; evidently, it had seen better days. But that was Korriban for you, Luke thought, dismounting as he and the rest of the "swoop gang" raced to a halt. A few days' worth of beard, and some exotic hair dyes loaned to him by Myri Antilles, had turned the Jedi Grand Master into a rakish pirate prince named Hethak Rodan, looking to hire out to clients with less than discerning tastes. He dismounted with seven of the eight others who'd accompanied him, nodding when Tahiri - in black leather - dragged their ninth compatriot with them, a chain around his throat. Anakin Solo was wearing pants and boots, but that was it; Luke didn't like the plan involving his nephew in chains (at least THIS nephew), but Anakin had suggested it. "I did kill Lumiya. If the Sith did work with her, they've got to be at least a little karked off at me," the younger man had said on the inbound flight aboard the Shawnkyr. The gates swung open, and Luke and the others tensed - when a man in a dark cloak, white eyes barely visible beneath the hood, strode out of the Sith monastery ... his Force presence somehow blinding Luke's perceptions and clouding the area. "Trouble," Corran Horn warned, his beard dyed white. "Neg the comm chatter," Jag - a patch over one eye, and their tactical officer - snapped, in his role as "Hethak's" second. "Well. Anakin Solo, in chains. Didn't you try this stunt on Tatooine a few years back?" White Eyes mocked - and Luke's jaw dropped. He KNEW that voice. Like his own. The Sith Lord tossed his hood back, revealing hideous electrical burn scars around ruined eyes and sandy gray hair. "Your woman should have made sure I was dead, `brother,'" Luuke Skywalker - cloned from the hand Luke had lost at Bespin, believed more than 30 years dead by Mara's hand - taunted, igniting a red lightsaber as Sith poured out of the monastery. "My Force echo allows me to shield this place from you; my near death triggered cellular memory, gave me a mind. "And ONE Luke Skywalker is NOT leaving Korriban alive ..." ------------------------------------------------------------ Krayt was almost disappointed; such an obvious ploy to enter his domain was beneath the son of Vader. He donned his helmet, leaving Darth Tantiss - the clone of Skywalker - to counter the Jedi Grand Master, and sought out more worthy prey - Katarn. Bearded, arrogant, slaying Sith acolytes almost with just a glance. And that ridiculous blaster. A thorn in the dark side for TOO long. Krayt leapt, parrying Katarn's blows and savoring a real workout, as their lightsaber collisions caused shockwaves, clearing the area around them. His Sith Master, Xoxaan, whispered warnings, but the Dragon grinned. War had come to Korriban after too long. And it was GLORIOUS. ------------------------------------------------------------ Saba Sebatyne spun, enjoying the battle a bit too much; but it was the wild side of the Force, not the dark. This was not murder - it was a hunt. And worthy prey. Until she saw HER. That red and black scaled Barabel who had attacked in the Senate, and Saba hissed displeasure at her fellow reptoid. Their lightsabers clashed, and Darth Shenbit hissed, "Fool. You are weak, and I will devour you." "This one thinks not, embarrassment," Saba spat - and then she felt horror and recognition. "KRASOV? DAUGHTER!?" Saba sissed, aghast. "The Vong did not kill me at Myrkr, Mother. They freed me to hunt better game - and Lord Krayt gave me a hunting ground," Krasov sissed merrily. Darkly. "Come to me ..." ------------------------------------------------------------ Tatooine: Darklighter Farm, formerly Lars Residence: ------------------------------------------------------------ Betsy and the Horn children pulled up to the moisture farm in a rented landspeeder; the day was already terribly hot, and the sooner this was done with, the happier Betsy would be. At least the Horns got along well, when they were working - The Force rippled, and Betsy nodded at the younger Jedi. /Trouble,/ they all agreed, getting out ... Betsy cast around for any sense of the Darklighter family; fortunately, there were no signs of recent death ... just a lingering roil of long-ago burning ... She shivered, sending up a prayer for Owen and Beru Lars, then glanced around as she parked the `speeder and Valin and Jysella hopped out. Then Betsy heard it - Anya Darklighter, yelling - and the younger woman was pulled out from behind the main farm building, by ... "Oh, you have GOT to be bloody KIDDING me," Betsy groaned, as the Horns ignited their lightsabers, shocked. "He jumped me - Master Braddock, RUN! He's working for -" Anya yelled, shrieking a little when Tarfang sank a claw into her leg and waved that Merr-Sonn blaster at the hostelkeeper's head. "LET HER GO NOW," Betsy tried to mindtrick; Tarfang shook his evil furry little head and shoved Anya toward them - - then snarled, as Betsy lit her lightsaber and Valin pulled Anya to safety. Then the laughter started ... and Betsy and the Horns looked on as a skiff floated out from behind the farm. Tarfang ceased his attack, grinning, as a corpulent Hutt wearing rings and ... lipstick ... chortled, fanned by a Rodian female while Nikto guards operated the skiff. But it was who was chained up, struggling with the Hutt, who shocked Betsy as Tarfang snarled gleefully. "Betsy, I know we have to STOP meeting like this ... but yeah, it's me," the younger, bearded man blurted, wearing a tunic and breeches, a scar diagonally across his face. And Betsy gasped: "GANNER !?!??!" ------------------------------------------------- tbc ...