The Verd'goten

[Just Matt Now]

Simba's father understood fairly well what this meant. He had taught his son a great deal of survival skills, those including what to do in climates such as these. Although under the conditions he was already in, that might have not mattered. The young boy's mind was to occupied, too over burdened to a degree where even his father could not comprehend. Watching eagerly to the view screen, the reality of what his son was going through was killing him inside, though on the outside he was stone cold and emotionless.

On the other hand, Simba saw this as an opportunity. He had gotten over a very large obstacle, and understood to try and give himself credit as to not lose his mind. Little did he know what was about to come. Finally reaching the perimeter of the large city, the buildings were all but destroyed. He watched carefully at the scenery, making sure no other murderer lurked.

Soon enough a chill had come over Simba, and the powdered flakes that fell were now frozen like snow. At first Simba did not understand, though when the temperature dropped and icy wind picked up, he knew he was in for some deep trouble. Covering himself with his arms, he tried stepping up his pace to warm his muscles, despite every movement aching and horrid pain it caused.

The only plan he could assemble was to hide in the buildings, perhaps use them to get across the city. As damaged and tattered as they were, they could still provide shelter enough to hopefully save his life.

Walking through the harsh winds, the bitter coldness feeling like it was peeling his skin back from the wind. Simba ran into a building blindly, hoping that it would not be as cold inside, and hoping that there was nothing inside that would come out and attack him.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Lyon looked over at Simba's father as a flat white overtook the monitor, showing that there was indeed a fairly large-sized blizzard moving in. So far, Simba had overcome combat with an individual in a similar state as he, and was hiding from a blizzard. Under the effects of a Force Echo, one might consider this nothing to laugh at, but to be a Mandalorian, one had to be a true warrior, not just a lucky survivalist. "Do you believe your son can take much more of this?" Lyon asked. Though most considered Mandalorians to be nothing but emotionless killing machines, Lyon did have a heart, and wanted to make sure he could handle it before sending down his 'toys' for Simba to deal with.

 

[Just Matt Now]

So much did he want to say no, so that his son would no longer be in danger, so that his son would no longer have to suffer, but the truth of the matter was that he did not want to steal this away from him. Simba seemed persistent and willing, perhaps if he felt the same pain that Simba was going through he would have said no.

"My son seems to be coping. So far he has forged a weapon, and found shelter. Two things much needed for survival. He can get through this!" He had faith in his son, he had faith that he would surpass this test and prove to be a Mandalorian after all.

Simba was happy to see that he first building was not inhabited by anything other than old remnants, relics of furniture and objects that were covered in dust. He searched through some of it, none of the cabinets did not have any food, and everything else seemed to be empty. He dared take a chance upstairs, holding his weapon tight in his paw...it too was vacant. Simba rummaged through what little he could until he finally came across a single article of clothing. The sweater was very large, obviously meant for an adult, however Simba was grateful for the find. Wrapping it around himself, The small Kushari looked for a way to get from this small house-like building to the next.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Lyon nodded to Simba's father, and reached across to his left on the dashboard. Tapping in a few keys, a swish of air was heard throughout the ship as a single escape pod flew outward, heading towards the city Simba was currently residing in. In it, were two of the meanest droids one might fight. In the pod was a pair of reproduction BX-series Commando Droids, famously used in the historic Clone Wars of old, that Lyon had picked up in a marketplace on Tatooine. Though knock-offs, the Commando Droids were just as dangerous as their predecessors. Lyon only hoped the young Kushari could handle it. They were armed with reproduction E-5 Blaster Rifles, and what did he have? A makeshift axe-club. With any luck, Simba would find the way to take out these mechanical terrors.

 

[Just Matt Now]

The pain continued to bare down upon the small Kushari. When he though that he was adjusting to it, and beginning to tolerate it, any slight movement only reopened the waves of pain. It was like nothing he had ever come across, and would not even wish this on his greatest enemy. Although he found solace in the warmth that the large sweater had brought. It was something he could hold on to as a glimmer of hope. The cold front was nearly devastating, the abandoned building essentially saving his life. He knew he wouldnt be able to last minutes out there on his own, even with the sweater to aid him.

The little Kushari hurried across the snowfall, onto the next building which he assumed would be similar to the last. And abandoned it was, no creature or living organism to be found. Not that anything could even survive in this type of atmosphere, not for long at least. The doors were nearly frozen shut, it took a good amount of pressure to open them up. Though when he got inside, it was untouched by the harsh snow. Simba searched around for anything else he could use, or eat. His pain had hidden most of his other sensations, including hunger. He knew he wouldnt be able to make it much longer without proper nourishment. Ashe was scavenging the cupboards of what was once a Kushari kitchen, a distinct noise rang out.

As Simba looked up from a small cabinet to see what it was, he was taken by surprise by blaster shots ringing out towards him. Still nimble on his feet, Simba was able to avoid the initial attack, rolling in a more of a ruined stumble then a proper roll through another doorway and into another room.

Unable to speak, the words were just not worth his energy, and this was known by his survival instinct. Simba grabbed his axe, the only form of defense or offense he had with him, and prepared to defend himself. The Commando droids were nimble as well, more so than normal droids. Not yet counting his blessings, knowing that this had to come eventually, Simba waited behind the doorway, not revealing himself, for the droids to come through.

The droids clamoring footsteps a clear indicator of it's position. Simba used this to his advantage, jumping out at the right time in a frail attempt to seize it's blaster. Struggling with the droid, his weakened state unaffected to the droid, he was fighting at a clear disadvantage. And even thinking of his next move caused him pain, as he put his weight in his back, and let the droid fall on him in their struggle. The pain was terrifying, and as Simba shouted out, no sound came form his mouth. Although his plan seemed to have payed it's toll as the second droid continued to shoot at the Kushari, only to kill it's comrade instead.

Simba had to strive through the pain, it was the only way he would survive. And even though the amount of pain he was now going through made him want to kill himself, he still fought for freedom. Dropping his makeshift axe, Simba grabbed the blaster rifle and kicked the deactivated droid away, pushing him back through the doorway and out of sight.

His instincts telling him to keep going, while others would have been prone to welcoming death, Simba used his brief maneuver to weld the blaster rifle properly.

Giving no time for the Commando droid to react to what had happened. Simba rolled over his back, prone, using the downed droid as cover while he fired away.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Lyon was watching the dashboard as the signal indicator informed him that one of the droids had just went offline. Few organisms were currently on the planet, and since it was within the same city as Simba, that told the aliit'alor that the kid must've taken the droid down. "Well, I'll be. Your son seems to have taken down one of my commando droids. Wielding a crude weapon, one that would be typically unaffective against the droids, and actually managing to eliminate a better-armed opponent is something that definitely proves he is a skilled warrior." He stated, looking over at Simba's father.

 

[Just Matt Now]

The older Kushari seemed enthralled in the view screen. Watching his son flourish and survive as he had taught him. Although this was even more, to this extent nothing can be taught. Simba was overcoming the obstacles all on his own. Confidence brewed in his chest, he felt now that nothing could take down his son.

"Yes, he is quite resourceful..." His eyes never leaving the screen.

_______________________________________________

Simba took a deep breath which stirred a coughing streak due to the pain. This only added to it. Calming himself down, Simba rose to his feet, with a bit of a struggle. He wondered when this would end, and how he had gotten to this point without passing out completely. Simba shook the thought. No good could come from it. He knew he had to keep his mind positive and on moving forward, through the pain, and through the turmoil.

The small Kushari moved for the next building, hating the harsh environment outside that he had to pass by briefly. Keeping himself bundled up in what little garnishment he could muster, he held his forged weapon, and strapped the droids blaster around his shoulder incase more was to come.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Lyon looked at the father, who seemed very focused on the viewscreen. It wouldn't be too much longer until his verd'goten would be complete, if he managed to survive the rest of the way. "He's moving out of the structure, deeper into the city. He's making excellent progress, but it seems my other Commando Droid slipped away under the flurry of blaster fire." The Aliit'alor remarked. Indeed, this boy was shaping up excellently, and it looked like he may actually make it. Regardless, he still had to complete his trial, and there was a possibility that something would go wrong.

_______________________

On the ground, the Commando Droid designated MX-34 had managed to slip away from the young Kushari's blizzard of laser fire, taking another route around the building. Keeping an eye out of a nearby window, MX-34 saw its target exit the building, making his way to another structure. The Droid raised its blaster rifle, its targeting processors within the machine making sure it was a sure shot, and pulled the trigger, sending a blaster bolt his way, intending to collide with the child's upper left leg.

 

[Just Matt Now]

The shot seared Simba's flesh, the wound intensified by the constant physical disorientation and pain he was subjected to. The Kushari keeled over to the floor, dropping the rifle just in front of him. The next building had a draft, the cold wind pushing out the heat steam that came from the blaster bolt. Simba opened his mouth to cry out, though there was no sound. His pain was too grand, too severe at that moment for his other functions to work as they should. This was a life or death situation, it could be the end of his trials right there.

The droid continued to fire, it wouldnt stop until it's target was destroyed, or itself was instead. Simba sprawled behind cover, a nuclear winter covered sofa that had a durasteel frame. It proved useful to block the volts, though Simba could faintly hear the footsteps come closer. The bolts grew faster and faster as they came closer and closer to finding their target. Simba needed to overcome himself, overcome the constant pain that he could still not get over no matter how hard he tried. The end was flashing before his eyes, he could sense his failure and the disappointment in his father ho viewed from above. The thought hurt him more than anything else, nearly spurring him to action and quit his visions.

Struggling to find the rifle, and even more so latching onto it, Simba nearly gave up before the droid made it around the corner of the sofa. His paws were slippery with sweat making it even harder to grab onto the rifle, though when he found the trigger he did not stop firing. Towards the direction of the droid, of where the blaster shots were coming from. On the precipice of blacking out, he shot blindly, praying to catch the droid before it caught him.

After the brief altercation, there was only one rifle still firing. Still squeezing the trigger, he knew that he did not accomplish this alone. His father was helping him somehow even if he didnt know it. Realizing that he was still alive, he opened his eyes wide and released the rifle altogether, allowing it to fall to the floor. Simba remained on the floor, falling back to it even. The pain still overwhelming, he tried to regain his breath...he still needed to escape.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Lyon watched as a blip went off one of the console screens on the dashboard. Looking over to it for a second and then looking back, Lyon smiled somewhat. "Scratch that, my droid doesn't seem to be operating any longer. Your son must have quite the will to survive. That is valuable; something you cannot teach." He stated, crossing his arms as he looked at the Long-Range Scope. "The elevator isn't much farther from his current position. All he has to do is live a little bit longer, and he'll be a true warrior." He remarked. It was easier said then done.

 

[Just Matt Now]

Simba felt himself slipping. Each building he passed through seemed to be less and less covered from the harsh environment. The sweater he was using for warmth was starting to form ice on the outside and he was shivering to try and keep warm. The pain from the void was not numbed out by the cold. This only amplified the surreal realization that this could very well be the end. His pain from his leg was crippling him. In fact, Simba fell to the floor. Forced to remove his frozen sweater, he had to compress his wound. The shot was cauterized by the blaster bolt so there was little bleeding, though it still needed to be covered. Forcing himself to rip off the sleeve of his sweater, Simba quickly put it back on with the arm missing and his arm bare. He then wrapped and tied the sleeve around his leg, the pain of tightening it almost caused him to pass out, though he held strong.

Struggling to get to his feet, Simba found himself limping through the next house. Reaching the window he scrambled out to the next one. Though to his demise and decreasing cognitive senses, he did not see the gap between. Simba plunged t the ground, falling nearly 2 stories. While that would not be much in any other circumstance, this was considered a death sentence.

The fall caused him to pass out. The pain was just all too much. Simba backed out for about five minutes before he woke, the icy cold wind brushing across the Kushari's face. At first he could not move, his body was numb, eve to the constant pain of the void. Then the numbness faded, and he wished more than anything that it hadnt. The pan was even worse than it was before. Incomparable to anything else, Simba did not know if he wanted to go any further. He thought of his father, but the thought went easily as the pain was the only thing to fill his mind. He didnt care, he wanted it to end. Then he looked over to his rifle...he could end it right there.

Then a beacon of light was seen. The elevator that would save him from this torment. He crawled to it, hoping that it would be the end.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Through this last leg of the journey, Lyon was actually somewhat worried for the kid as his progress slowed, and for a few minutes stopped completely as Simba had passed out. But now, the end of the trial was near, but coming soon as well was the hardest part of this trip. Looking at the Scope, Lyon could determine he was close to the elevator, a revelation that gave him a glimmer of hope for the ge'verde. "His journey is almost over. But, if what I've been told is true, then the worst of the trial is yet to come. I'm no Force-Sensitive, but I hear disturbances, or echoes in this case, in the Force can be quite painful to Force Adepts."

Most people thought Mandalorians to be tough, emotionless killers who cared not for the sanctity of sentient life, but Lyon truly felt worry for the young Kushari. Believe it or not, there were some in the galaxy who still didn't believe in the Force, but Lyon acknowledged and understood its capabilities, having seen it in action before. Hopefully, this boy was strong enough to handle what was about to be thrown the poor kid's way.

The Aliit'alor moved over to the piloting controls, and got a grip on the old Barloz. Steering it toward the Docking Station the orbital elevator connected to, Lyon got the freighter moving towards the station, prepping his ship to dock with the station and hopefully welcome a newly-declared warrior onto the freighter.

 

[Just Matt Now]

The elevator seemed so close, yet so far away. As the effect of the echoes had been wreaking havoc on his body, the magnitude seemed to vastly increase the closer he got to the end. It was as if some higher force was doing anything it could in order to stop this little Kushari from completing his mission, Simba felt useless. He was subject to whatever came his way and ever since he landed on the planet there was nothing he could do to stop it. The echoes tore through his mind and body, the sounds of thousands of dead Kushari coming down on his all at once. Simba was forced to his knees, though he still had to continue forth.

Simba did not know it could get this worse, an undescribed feeling, a pain he could never bare to imagine was now worse and more harsh than ever. Unable to cry due to the frozen temperatures, unable to scream out in relief because of the immense pain, Simba felt like a broken husk, and he was yet a child. This was a pain he would never wish on his more dire enemy, all he wanted was to die, yet he knew he could not. There was too much relying on him, he had to complete his verd'goten, had to become an elite warrior like his father before him. The Kushari crawled to the elevator, the environment not making it easier as the icy snow was piling up higher and higher. Had there been any other creature or droid sent as an obstacle, he would be a goner, there was little enough energy that was pushing him to the finish line as it was. Simba fought the urge to give up, keeping the thought of his father and his family in his mind. They would want nothing more than to take their son from this torture, yet they could not. It was all up to him.

___________________________________________________________

Simba's father could barely keep his eyes on the view screen anymore. As if it wasnt bad enough already, he could not imagine the immense pain that his son was feeling. Even from high above the planet the effects of the echoes could be felt. For a moment, he turned away, not wanting to see his son fail and fall to the test. Though he knew he could not give up, he had to give his son strength, even if he didnt even know it. Clenching his fists he bent over to see closer to the screen, his fists on the counter right in front.

His son was moving inch by inch, slow. there were times when it looked like he was just stopping, giving up. Though then he would move another foot.

"That's it boy!! Keep moving!..."

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Lyon docked the old freighter with the Station at the top of the Orbital Elevator, connecting a boarding tube to the freighter's airlock and sealing it. Now with the ship ready, it was just up to Simba to make it into the elevator, and he'd be home free with a new life ahead of him. Looking over at the Scope and the Kushari's father, Lyon couldn't help but feel sorrow for the man and his boy down planet-side. Simba's progress was slowing down the closer he got to the elevator, but he was still moving.

If there was one thing the child had, it was spirit and the will to survive. Quietly, Lyon thought to himself. Come on kid, just a little bit farther. You're almost there, don't give up now. At this moment, the Mandalorian had his arms crossed and his fists clenched tightly, waiting in anticipation for the boy to make it back home to his father.