The Ryn picked his way through the rubble strewn field of rock and ash as quietly as he could, which was pretty easy for him. One of the few things the Krath considered himself good at was being a right sneaky little rat.
An itch was forming in the back of his mind, a sign of Bad Things to come, and he couldn’t help but be bothered by what he’d sensed before. Droids didn’t generally project anything in the Force, which meant he should consider having found it already to be a windfall.
But that didn’t explain why he had felt it; that shouldn’t have happened. Lacking other explanations, the Ryn rationalized it away as Sith magics having been used to tamper with it, some attempt by an alchemist to improve or modify the Juggernaut.
Seems like the sort of thing one of those twisted idiots would do. ‘Oh yes, let’s take this incredibly dangerous, heavily armed and armored war droid, and put some Sithy runes on it so that it’s even more dangerous. Nevermind that it might make the bloody thing go off its programming and wander off or decide to start killing whomever it wants.’
The Ryn’s internal grumble continued as he worked his way towards where he’d last seen the droid standing, trying to ignore the background sensations coming off the nearby Sith temple.
Perfect place for it, really. Wonder if this place looked any better before it got all blown to hell
A glance around the area suggested it probably hadn’t been any nicer as the Priest crept up behind an outcropping covered in Sith runes, an old pillar or obelisk, most likely. He knew he was invisible to the naked eye, but the Ryn had been creeping around where he didn’t belong long before he’d learned to control the Force. Besides, until he knew if the droid could see in another wavelengths, it was better to play it safe.
Just what I need, that thing to open up on me because it sees a bloody heat signature. Gods, but this place is droll. ‘Oh yes, perfect place to set up a temple to the Dark Side,’ he mocked within his own head, taking on a nasally, Courscanti tone. ‘We can put the courtyard here in black stone, and the garden over here filled with black roses and bushes. Lots of gibberish runes all over the walls, of course, to scare off the locals. And oh yes, a lovely fountain in the middle with mind-breaking imagery and blood rather than water, oh yes.
Distracting himself with the overbearing sense of darkness radiating off the temple, the Ryn peeked around the side of the old obelisk. The droid was no longer facing the temple as it had been, looking as if it had been studying the ancient structure. Rather, its glowing optical receptors seemed to be fixed on the rocks and general area that Kordath was lurking about in.
Oh, poodoo. Alright, alright, they want this thing back intact, calm yourself, Bleu.
With a hefty sigh, the Ryn dropped his cloak — the droid knew whereabouts he was already and hiding wouldn’t get the job done. Stepping out slowly from cover, hands empty and out to show he wasn’t intent on aggression, he watched the droid’s head twitch as it locked on to him.
“Well, that’s bloody unnerving,” muttered the Krath, slowly walking towards the droid. “Umm, ‘ello there mate,” he started, wondering if he’d thought this through enough. “Lookin’ a bit lost. Uhh, Command sent me to help ya get back to where you belong, alright?”
The droid’s optics tracked him as he moved up slowly, coming within a few feet of it. The Ryn looked up at the taller droid — the thing had a third of a meter on him, making the already small Krath feel even tinier.
“So, yeah, how’s about we call in a shuttle, and we get off this depressing, charred rock? No reason to be hanging about here, eh?”
After a few moments of apparent...what was perhaps hesitation or thought, the droid replied with a high pitched whistle of binary, causing Kordath to narrow his eyes at the machine.
“Don’t you start that nonsense, they put vocabulators in you lot so you can report on battle conditions and the like, don’t act like ya don’t know what I’m say—” The Ryn was cut off as a metal hand reached out to gather the front of his robes, lifting him off the ground.
Feet dangling a good foot or more off the ground, the Krath was stock still. Partially out of fear, but also morbid fascination as the droid brought him up to face level. The disc-like head of the Juggernaut slid forward on silent servos, cocking slightly to the side before an audible click was heard of a speaker switching on. Kordath waited in bated silence, hoping the droid would give him some kind of response he could reason with to convince it to come back with him.
“Beep. Boop.”
“Wait, wha—?” The Ryn’s question was again cut off, this time turning to a surprised scream as the droid cocked back its arm and threw him. Sputtering as he pushed himself out of the dirt and ash he’d landed face first in, the Priest rubbed his eyes clear, wishing that one of the sadistic women back on the Nighthawk who’d given him this mission had thought to leave his flasks in his robes.
“Really!? Now what’d I do to deserve that, eh?” the Ryn was shouting as he got to his feet, stalking back towards the droid in anger. Waving a finger at the droid in admonishment, part of the Priest’s brain was screaming caution. He was angry enough to ignore his more rational side, just this once he felt a desire to scrap a droid. “I was sent here to bring ya back to the fold, droid, never said you had to be workin’ at the end of it all!”
The droid’s discus head cocked sideways again, and the Ryn almost felt a sense of...amusement radiate from the machine. He almost missed a step when he realized he wasn’t certain that this had been conveyed through the droid’s body language, or the Force.
Losing my bloody mind, can’t read a droid through the Force. Why is is always me? I write one bloody...okay one MORE bloody bit of fiction for a bit of credits and the Shadow Lady has me chasing war droids.
“My apologies.”
Kordath stopped as he reached the droid, brows raised as he finally heard the machine speak. “Oh? So ya can talk, eh?”
“Indeed. My apologies, I made a mistake.”
“Oh, I’d say ya did, you metal bast…what are you doing? Stop that,” growled the Ryn as the droid lifted him up again.
“My mistake was not throwing you far enough.”
With a nervous lick of lips, the Ryn gave the droid a trembling smile. “Might we talk about this, mate?”
“Of course, we are both beings of reason. Question: does your tail aid in flight?”
“I...have no idea mate, I suppose it could be helpful in bal—”
The droid reared back, using both arms to propel the Ryn into the sky, tracking the Priest as he arced through the air. Studying the telemetry showed that the tail, in fact, did aid in flight, as it provided a counter balance, causing the Ryn to spiral tightly through the air.
Kordath felt his scream ripped from him as he sped through the sky, spinning at a speed that allowed him to get flashes of ground, sky, ground, sky, rock, sky, rock before coming to a stop as he slammed into another fallen obelisk. For a bare moment it seemed as if the Ryn would stay upon the mostly vertical surface, before he slowly slid to the ground in a crumpled heap.
-x-
The holo image panned smoothly to document the arc of Kordath’s flight, and the watchers couldn’t help but suffer from a collective wince as his body smacked into the rock.
“Well, that was quick,” spoke Valtiere, just a touch of smugness to be heard in his bland tone.
“Mmmhmm, sensors show he’s alive still, Nikola,” replied the Quaestor of Galeres from her seat. “Unconscious, but alive.”
The Rollmaster grunted indifferently, munching on the fried foodstuffs that had been brought up for the viewers of the so-called mission.
“Your Apprentice, he thinks he’s on a mission, yes?” This from the Consul who had her head tilted a bit sideways, not able to rely on the screen showing transmissions from the spy drone which was observing the skirmish. She instead was keeping track of things with the Force, and had very nearly felt the impact that the Priest down on the planet had suffered from because of it.
“Yes, My Lady, he believes he’s recovering an item, a scroll that I...left...there when you requested this demonstration of his ability. I thought you intended to reactivate the traps and defenses of the temple, not send another agent in,” Nikola paused for a moment, glancing at the screen. “Not that the Bleu-runt could stop Kaiburr, but I have to ask...why him?”
“Because he ticked her off again,” said Arcia, before the Consul could reply.
Atyiru sent as withering of a glare as was possible with a blindfold towards her subordinate before addressing Valtiere, “Anyone else sent down on that world from Arcona told to ‘stop the rogue droid’ would have simply tried to cut it in half. That is not Kordath’s way. Besides, if there was ever to be a test of counter intelligence or, for that matter, theft, what better gauge to put your student against than the Ryn?”
“He is a slippery one,” admitted the Rollmaster, grudgingly.
“In more ways than you know,” murmured the Consul.
Arcia glanced over at the Shadow Lady, Lord of all Arconans and the Dajorra system. “So it’s not because he ticked you off? I heard he was writing again.”
The Consul sighed, rubbing at her temples. “Yes, we’ve tried to encourage Kordath to stop that nonsense, but without an outright order I fear he won’t stop.”
Valtiere looked from one woman to the other in confusion before the Quaestor smirked at him.
“He likes to write these...little novels starring a female Miraluka, not unlike our dear Shadow Lady here. And they tend to sell pretty well around Estle City, though I’m debating making ownership of them a lashing offense in Galeres. So...a new draft cross your desk, my Lady?”
Atyiru trembled with uncharacteristic anger for a moment, before calming down. “He was overheard in the cantina the other night dropping hints about the most recent...plot,” she nearly spat the last word out in contempt, suddenly desiring a drink of her own. “Our heroine was having to recover a stolen artifact while fending off a drunken and over-amorous Neti. I understand it gets quite...graphic. Tendrils...and...the like.”
Silence filled the room for a moment. “So, that’s why she sent the Ryn, huh?”
“Be a dear, Nikola, and find Arcia and myself some beverages. Of the alcoholic variety. And do make sure they have the camera system online within the temple. We would hate to miss any of this.”
“Y...yes my Lady.”
-x-
Blinking his eyes a few times, the Ryn came to with several worrying things presenting themselves. One, his mouth had a horrible taste in it, and a smell permeated the area suggesting he’d lost what was left of his dinner. Most of it had been alcohol, but he suspected there were a few nuts and pretzels within it as well. Secondly, the sky was the ground and the ground was the sky, until he tried to move his legs and fell over.
“Ow…ow…” muttered the Ryn, wondering how long he’d been sitting on his own head and rolling to get his hands underneath his body. Pushing up, he noted the smell growing worse, and sighed, scooping up ash and dirt to try and soak up some of the vomitus puddle his robes had managed to pick up.
Stretching and working his head back and forth to get the stiffness out of his neck, the Priest glanced at the rock he’d hit as he landed, feeling pain throughout his body. ’Nothing seems broken,’ he decided as he tried to judge the angle he’d hit the obelisk at. Backtracking, he climbed atop the first large rock he could find, sighting in on the Sith Temple while looking for that bloody droid.
“Looks like it went...inside? Probably, looked like it was tryin’ to find a way in.” The Krath looked back at the rock he’d hit, almost certain he saw a slight Ryn-shaped imprint on it. “This, this of course…means war,” he growled to the open air.