Riders on the Storm

[Crim]

Heavy rain poured from the skies, each drop slamming into the crimson lightsaber with a sharp sizzle. Vapor surrounded the blade, rising into the stormy skies. Darkness covered the Bare Forest, the only source of light emanating from the activated saber. Its red hue colored its surroundings a crimson color. In each direction, scraping footsteps grew closer and closer. Dead leaves rustled and twigs snapped under each clumsily-placed foot as they marched to the source of the light. As a flash of lightning split the sky, it illuminated the Bare Forest for but a moment. In that brief second, the shroud of darkness was lifted and the advancing horde of the undead shuffled mindlessly towards the red saber. The saber's hilt was stuck firmly in the ground, mud caking on the humming weapon. A trail of footsteps led away from the saber, leading into the dark forest...

Several hours earlier...

Leviathan-Class Corvette Eques soared over the world of Zelos II. Its sun glimmered off its grey hull, blue engines brightly shining behind it. A squadron of X-57 starfighters flew around the ship, flying in a training exercise. Darek Zann, a Stormtrooper, watched from the windows of the ship's barracks. He braced the bulkhead with his right arm while he held his helmet in his left. The starfighters danced around in his vision, performing various maneuvers. Behind him, Jeim Canson pulled a black boot over his leg. "Man, why do they have us out here?" he complained. Darek gave him a passing glance before returning his attention to the viewport. "Training exercises, looks like. For now. I think we've got some higher-ups going planetside to pick up a package," he said.
"A package?" Canson asked.
"Yep. That's what I said."
"I didn't train at the academy to be a courier."
"No, you trained at the academy to follow orders. And that's what we do. Besides, have you seen our guests? Whatever they're picking up, they're taking it back to the Eques to haul back to Coruscant. Let's get moving. Shift change," Darek said as he turned and walked to the door. On the way, he scooped his helmet into his arm. Canson stood and flexed his fingers in his armored gloves. "Our guests?" he asked as he turned to grab his helmet.
Darek pressed a button next to the door and it shot open. He said, "We're expecting some higher-ups. We were briefed to expect General Petrov and a..."

As if to punctuate his statement, a woman in dark robes marched through the halls. A metal brace was fixed on her arm and what appeared to be a lightsaber dangled from her belt. Almost instantly, the room grew cold. Before Canson put his helmet on, he could clearly see his own breath. Darek risked a look at the woman, poking his head out of the door before turning to Canson. "That," Darek said. The two couldn't help but stare as the Grand Inquisitor entered a dark room at the end of the hallway and disappeared.

_______

Darth Trepidus entered the communications room and waited. She was already agitated, not having planned to return to Zelos for some time. The mission itself was in the Bare Forest, one of the few things that could send a chill down the spine of the Lord of Fear. She had faced the Bare Forest many times before, in a different life. It was, perhaps, what awakened her to the Dark Side of the Force in the first place. But that was a long time ago and Ebiara Prasinaima was dead. Darth Trepidus ran a gloved finger along the holocommunicator and activated it, displaying the planet below.

There were Jedi on the surface of the planet. Not just one Jedi hiding out, trying to live the rest of his sad life as a hermit. It was a group of Jedi, all of which were using the Bare Forest as a hideout. They were coordinated and, if they were in the Bare Forest, heavily fortified. Entering the most dangerous place in the galaxy was foolish in itself. Entering the Bare Forest to take out Jedi was perhaps one of the most foolish ideas in the entire galaxy. The Grand Inquisitor would need assistance. She stared at the Bare Forest on the holoscreen, waiting for General Alexei.

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

ngines hum and metal throbs as the Imperial transport flickers through black space, its silver shell sailing toward the Leviathan-Class Corvette “Eques.” Hiding in the shadow of the cockpit, Alexei slouches against his seat, eyes impassive and bleak. Armor clasped around his wiry frame, and helmet perched under his right arm, the General is every bit prepared for a battle. His pulse rifle to the left, still polished from the day before, and blastsword suspended from his waist— for whatever reason he had come to Zelos II, it no doubt had to do not with his skills as a tactician, but a soldier.

The ship slows. With a shudder, the transport slips into the hangar, and the limitless stars of space are replaced for the artificial light of the bay. Alexei pushes off his seat, and nodding to his pilot, the ironclad veteran slithers out from the hull. As he veers into the open, an assemblage of troopers salute him, their heads upright so as not to offer even a glance in his direction. Choosing not to salute in turn, but rather soak in his own esteem, Alexei makes his way to the turbolift.

Once he slips into its metal confines, an officer drops into view. “General Petrov, it’s an honor to have you aboard the Eques. Darth Trepidus awaits your arrival within the communications chamber.” The man falls silence, fingers resuming its constant tapping along his mobile interface.

Alexei only nods. In moments, just as an awkward silence begins to fester, the doors to the turbolift groan open. Streaks of holographic light pour through. Passing crew members glance away from their screens before retreating back into their duties. Not far from him stood the Grand Inquisitor, her empty gaze staring into the panorama of a strange forest. He approaches her, curious. “I didn’t take you for a lover of nature, Darth Trepidus,” he says, beside a hint of convivial sarcasm. “Well, we all have our little secrets now, don’t we?”

 

[Crim]

The Grand Inquisitor stared at the holofeed, the blue light dancing off her emerald eyes. The general's joke was met with a pair of raised eyebrows and an impatient look in his general direction. "General Alexei, have you heard of the Bare Forest? It is one of Zelos' secrets. It isn't kept from the Galaxy because it is dangerous or embarrassing. This forest is rarely spoken of because it is a place so terrible and so dreadful that the population is afraid to mention it, for fear of summoning its horrors. It is a legend told in hushed, superstitious whispers. You see, the Bare Forest is home to the walking dead."

Turning to entirely face the general, the Grand Inquisitor smirked and jabbed at the hologram with two fingers. "Listening equipment has discovered a number of Force users hiding in the Bare Forest. I have sent three Inquisitors to investigate. None have returned. I have reason to believe these Force-users are behind the disappearances and are very dangerous. This, coupled with the already-present danger of the living dead, creates an extreme risk for any brave enough to enter. I believe a talented team of both the Imperial Legion and Inquisitors will be necessary to combat this threat.

This will be a true test of your career, general. Few men could survive such an encounter. It would take a remarkable man indeed to lead men against such odds. Do you believe yourself up to the challenge?"

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

he Bare Forest. Rumors of this place have passed his mind several times before: how it is was the eerie haven of the undead, and a niche for only the foolish who dare wander into its ethereal confines. But, what is a rumor but a rumor? The Zelosians are a superstitious people, terrified of the night and irrational by only its passing shadow. To Alexei, the stories of the forest are nothing more than fiction: legends to scare children before the night rolls in. And while he couldn’t deny the sobriety Darth Trepidus carried with her by its very mention— it didn’t mean he would believe in her mythical fantasies.

Not like he’d tell her that face-to-face, though. The General wasn't looking to get on a Sith Lord's bad side. Not yet, at least.

“Of course, of course,” he says, playing down the situation at hand, but stopping himself short of laughing, or from addressing her apparent delusions of the supernatural. “I’ve seen my fair share of battles— from the dead, with blood seeping from missing limbs I once thought impossible to lose— to the dying, with punctured chests and cries that still haunt my sleep. So, Grand Inquisitor— I think I can manage a few measly Jedi.”

He cocks his pulse rifle as a show of strength, and offers a subtle smirk. “Do you think you’re up for the task, though, Darth Trepidus?”

 

[Crim]

A haughty tone crept into her voice, the Grand Inquisitor almost scoffing. The number of corpses one has witnessed in one's life cannot prepare one to face Jedi and the undead. Against a mindless enemy that will not tire, will not yield, and will spread out of control if left unchecked. Not to mention the undead. "A Sith is always up to whatever task is set in front of her. I will await you and whatever troops you wish to bring with you in the provided shuttle," Darth Trepidus said as she turned and walked to the turbolift. She rode the elevator on a very short ride to the underbelly of the ship, where a transport was neatly nestled along its bottom. The crew boarded the transport through its dorsal airlock, dropping down into the transport rather than stepping in as usual.

Later...

With the mission ready to begin, Darth Trepidus walked through the narrow corridors of legs in the cramped transport. Two Inquisitors, hand-picked for the mission, sat on the inner corners of the transport. A red light colored the interior of the shuttle, bathing the troops in an almost ominous hue. She banged on the door to the cockpit, letting the pilot know it was time to take off. Almost immediately, a loud grinding noise and rattle shook the transport as it detached from the Eques. The shuttle turned to face its destination and launched forward. The engines roared as the ship barreled towards the Bare Forest. With the ship in motion, Darth Trepidus strapped herself into a seat.

As the ship entered the upper atmosphere, the Grand Inquisitor pulled out a miniature holoprojector. She threw it onto the floor with a carefree flick of her hand and it displayed a topographical map of the forest, lighting the interior of the ship with a blue hue. "The Jedi have been isolated to this area, with at least one structure being used as a hideout," she said, pointing to a clearing in the forest. A rectangular area began to glow red, indicating the structure.

"There is a fast-moving river running from southwest to northeast, which will provide an obstacle for the Jedi. Landing at the top of this hill opposite the rapids will trap them between us and the rushing water. Even if we are seen, there will not be much room to evacuate. Landing there may attract the walking dead, however, and we may need to hold out after the mission while the shuttle relocates to our position. I would prefer these Jedi to be kept alive if at all possible. I have... plans for each of them," she said. The Grand Inquisitor was known for performing cruel experiments on her captured victims. These experiments ranged from the inhumane-yet-beneficial to the sadistically pointless. She had developed toxins and tested their potency on Jedi just as she had observed Miraluka brains in situ in order to understand how the occipital lobe compensated for the lack of visual organs.

"Are there any questions before we-" Darth Trepidus began to say until she was interrupted by a violent lurch. A shrill siren began to blare in the transport, the sounds of metal tearing outside creating an almost surreal atmosphere of dread. "The shuttle's going down! Controls aren't responding!" the pilot shouted from the cockpit. As Darth Trepidus closed her eyes and attempted to ease the ship's descent, she prepared for any new advice to be given from the General or the pilot, should it prove necessary to abandon the transport mid-flight.

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

lexei nods along as the Sith Lord lays out the plan of operations— the Jedi, trapped between their forces and a tempestuous river. Especially alongside his team of elite black ops and Trepidus’ personal Inquisitors, it would be a massacre. Or at least, to the Darth, a quick round-up. The General had heard rumors of all the prisoners she could get her hands on: experiments, dissections, horrific tests. The woman was the epitome of Sith malevolence, fostered by whatever pain or sin from her past— a secret Alexei would prefer not to unearth.

However, as soon as she had finished sprawling out her scheme, the transport suddenly banks to the right. Metal aches, sirens scream, the pilot scramble. Whatever had happened, the ship was going down, and it was going down fast. Alexei instantly slides on his helmet, preparing for the worst, before he looks over to the cockpit. He exchanges a worrying glance with the pilot, and recognizes only one thing— fear.

The General turns to face his regiment of soldiers, hand clutching the wall. “Brace for impact!”

Following a single, passing second, and the vessel slams a set of trees. Wood splinters against the cockpit, just until it smacks into the ground and snaps right off, only to leave a giant hole from where the pilot once sat. Shrapnel flies throughout the cabin, now rolling. Alexei’s grip falters, and he feels his mind rattle inside his skull as soldiers around him either sail from their seats, or get skewered by splintered steel. Eyes now tied to a shut, he tries to drown out the cries of his men.

Finally, the hell comes to a halt. The ravaged ship stops just short of a steep hill, held back by several trees. Alexei groans and unstraps himself out of his seat. He looks around, still bewildered, and calls out to the unnerving silence now permeating the shuttle remains. “Darth Trepidus? Are you alright?”

 

[Crim]

The Grand Inquisitor had slowed the transport such that all the occupants didn't die on impact, but it was still a rough landing. The shuttle was violently shaken as it tumbled into the forest, a mighty roar echoing through the inside, along with the cacophony of twisting metal, screaming men, and crumbling earth. In the chaos, the lights of the transport flickered as wood splinters flew into the shuttle. The cockpit was torn off by the sheer impact, rolling under the transport as the bottom hull began to peel with it. This acted as a brake for the shuttle, the unrecognizable cockpit burying deep into the ground and stopping the shuttle. As the transport slowed, a tree it had struck fell on top of the metal exterior, bending the ceiling inwards.

A deafening silence fell over the shuttle wreck. Moonlight poured into the gaping hole where the cockpit had once been. The straps holding Darth Trepidus in had dug deep into her skin. She could feel two bruises slowly forming along her clavicle. A sticky trickle of green blood dripped from a wound on her chin created by a passing wooden shard, with tiny splinters sticking in her clothes. She shook off the momentary shock, centering herself in the present. “Darth Trepidus? Are you alright?” she heard from inside the dark shuttle.

"I live," she said, not caring to add the usual arrogant quip of a Sith. This was not the time nor the place to brag. She unclasped her seat and slowly stood. As her wits returned, the copper smell of blood mixed with the fresh scent of pine filled her nose. In the dark, Zelosians were blind. Yet, as an attuned Force user and a Lord of the Sith, she could perhaps see more clearly with the Force than she could with her eyes. The Inquisitor next to her was dead, his Force signature having already faded. His neck was turned at an unsightly angle, with a steady stream of blood pouring from his ear. The other Inquisitor was very much alive, but something was... off. As Darth Trepidus stood, the man began to struggle with his harness.

"Lord Trepidus. I... I can't feel my legs. Forgive me; I am unfit for this mission," he said.
"This is by no error of your own. The Force has willed this to be," the Grand Inquisitor said. She reached to the belt of the dead Inquisitor and took his saber. Clasping it to her belt, she continued, "Do not be distraught; you may still serve some purpose to me."
"Truly?"
"Of course. We will need someone to hold the attention of the walking dead as we hunt the Jedi," she said, walking to the gaping hole in the cockpit. The Inquisitor bowed his head next to her. He knew the second he was injured to that extent, he was finished. A faithful Inquisitor served his Grand Inquisitor to his death. This one was chosen by both the will of the Force and the Grand Inquisitor to die strapped to that chair... but he would not embarrass himself by not fighting. His saber tumbled into his right hand as he leaned back in his chair, preparing for death. "As you wish, my Lord," he said. As Darth Trepidus looked into the night, she made a mental note to honor this man's brave sacrifice.

The hole in the hull faced over a steep cliff. The Grand Inquisitor fumbled around for a pair of macrobinoculars in the equipment nets, pushing past a dead trooper to reach the device. She looked in the device, peering into the darkness through a night vision lens. She saw a field of tree trunks, a metal shack, and slowly-swaying, rotting heads approaching the crash site. "General, does this shuttle have the means to contact the Eques? The situation is... not optimal and we will require extraction," she said. As if to punctuate her last statement, she lowered the macrobinoculars and turned to the General. "After our mission has finished, of course," she finished.

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

elief floods into him. Hearing the incisive voice of the Sith Lord was never an experience he found comfort in— not until now. Despite his confidence to take on the Jedi alone, he knows with Darth Trepidus, his odds of immediate death would be far less likely than without. That, and given her implied familiarity with the forest, he wouldn’t have to scramble through an ocean of trees for days in search for them. Who knew— if her supposed superstitions were true, the Sith would make an excellent offering for his own escape.

Alexei lingers toward the edge of the ship as Trepidus deliberates with one of her own, before he comes across a still breathing, but paralyzed, trooper. His neck is ridged, back twisted. Splinters adorn his lower abdomen, and a wedge of broken metal is lodged just above his wrenched ankle. It’s a complete surprise to the General, but having known the measureless determination all his men carry, it is a surprise he doesn’t question. Falling onto one knee, he leans closer to the soldier, his words barely audible. Griping with pain, he murmurs: “General… my… wife… tell her—“

He stops the trooper just short of his sentence, weaving a lie to put him to rest. “I will, soldier. I will.” With that, he slides his personal knife right through their throat. Blood gurgles from his mouth, and as his eyes roll back into his skull, the man dies. The General doesn’t know his name, his family, or his experience, but neither does he care. The man was suffering, so he put the dog out of its misery. Better to die quick and just, than whimpering to the grave.

Rising, Alexei seizes several extra charges from the trooper and activates night vision through his cracked visor. In an instant, the shattered vessel lights up, revealing all its messy contents: snapped necks, punctured chests, streaks of blood. He past several more bodies and makes his way to the gaping hole, where Darth Trepidus stood, her eyes peering into a pair of macrobinoculars. His gaze follow her own, and that’s when he catches them. The roving bodies, like a mob of ethereal ghosts, moving past the dark trees.

For a moment, he stands idle, shocked that her fantasy was now his reality. He shakes his head, hoping he was only hallucinating, and turns to the Sith Lord at his side. “This shuttle is only good for scraps now.” He pauses to think. “But if the comm receiver is still in working condition, then I’d only need some power to get an emergency beacon going. Shouldn’t be too hard, in fact. And who knows, perhaps the Jedi will have something we can use to call in the Eques.”

Alexei twists away from the opening and cocks his gun. “Let’s get going then, Darth Trepidus. We have a long night ahead of us.” Toward the other exit, a small handful of soldiers remain. “Leave the wounded,” he commands. “They can handle defending the ship on their own.” He reflects back to the mob of undead, and a shudder runs along his spine. They’d be long dead before the sun comes, that was for sure. But we all have to make sacrifices every now and then, don't we? For the Empire.