Sunday, 30 June 2013

Enter Sandman

Part 26 of the Star Wars story. Enjoy.

Enter Sandman

Turge was a fan of the pre-emptive strike. When he heard the Warden’s order, the massive mutant barrelled into a Magna droid, flattening it. His massive arm flung the second droid into the air. It hit the wall and smashed into spare parts.
Meanwhile Wraith snuck behind the Warden and the two droids guarding him. His lightsabers arced and, with their Authorized User gone, the droids fell back to their last command. They rushed at Turge. The hulking giant punched and flailed his massive hands. The droids never got a single hit in. Wraith unleashed Force lightning, disintegrating the droids before they could get up again. Turge turned and growled at Wraith.
“It’s all right,” he said as he raised his hands. The plasma blades had disappeared into the lightsaber hilts. “I’m here to free you. The Force showed me to path to-”
Without warning the massive mutant shot towards him. Wraith jumped high and out of the way.
“I’m not here to hurt you.” Turge looked at Wraith, who was hovering in mid-air beyond his reach. The mutant’s muscles coiled as he crouched and leapt upwards. His jump height exceeded Wraith’s and he loomed over the human. With unnatural precision, Turge tilted forwards and on top of Wraith. His massive frame hit Wraith and together they fell.
Turge’s body hit the ground in a body slam and left a crater. Wraith teleported away at the last second and hovered away. Turge roared, shaking the room with his voice and grabbed a piece of debris. He hurled rock at Wraith who had to use the Force to deflect them as he flew nimbly in between. He positioned himself on top of Turge and unleashed lightning. His intention was to incapacitate, not kill. But the beast was so powerful that even his most lethal power would only slow him down. Red lightning shot from Wraith’s body and into Turge. The mutant flailed and roared, obviously in agony.
Wraith went into a nose dive and latched onto Turge’s head. Lightning still arced from him through the heart. He grasped the mutant’s head and mentally dove into it. The beast’s mind was too strong for the Sith’s commands – hence why it was always caged. Instead the Sith chose to lock away every ounce of reasoning Turge possessed as punishment and incentive. The mental barriers were an ancient Sith magic but the Force had illuminated Wraith as to how best dissolve them. Now it was just a matter of diverting Force form lightning to the Art of the Small, in combination with telepathic powers. It was risky since at that moment, if Wraith brushed against the wrong spot in Turge’s head, the beast would tear off the helpless Wraith and rip him apart.
The first block was his reasoning. Turge was human once. Wraith allowed him to understand and learn once more. The roaring stopped, replaced by sheer confession. Wraith then unleashed his memory. He saw Turge’s abduction and experimentation. To prevent an outburst Wraith unblocked his emotions, letting him remember pain, joy, rage and content. Finally, Wraith allowed the beast to speak once more.
“Who are you?” Turge’s voice was a deep baritone rumble. Wraith gave him memory of himself and his mission.
“I am not the enemy,” he said. Turge’s onyx eyes locked with Wraith’s.
“I sense Evil in you. You are Sith, like him.”
“No, Turge. Not like him. I want to make you my partner not my slave. I am neither Sith, nor Jedi. I am completely free. And now so are you.”
“He won’t let us leave,” rumbled Turge.
“Who is he?”
“The Sith who is master. He controls all.”
Wraith gently placed his hand on the beast’s forearm. Turge recoiled but allowed the gesture.
“But he could not control you now could he?” said Wraith. “Perhaps this Sith is not as powerful as you think.”

From behind them, darkness and evil emanated like a tidal wave. A single figure clad in shadows, emerged.

“I beg to differ.”

City of Evil

Part 25 of the Star Wars story. Enjoy

City of Evil

The Citadel of Drumund Kaas was a giant metropolis of dark grey metal and sinister lights. The sky was always dark, as if on the precipice of rain. The people were quiet and silent as they went about their daily routines. They wore hoods and thick tunics, seemingly to hide individual features and obscure them from the world then to shield against the weather.
Wraith and Elara had no problem blending in. Their only problem was their target’s location. They knew what they were looking for – a cloning facility deep beneath the Citadel and nearly half as large. They had to go by the roundabout way – it would have been too suspicious if two figures made a beeline for a restricted area.
So they waited for the cover of nightfall and like two spirits, flitted by. The guards, they knew, were not Sith. They didn’t even know what they were guarding. They were just grunts; paid to wander around the Citadel in vigilance and to keep out any intruders from restricted areas. So the two Force-users refrained from lethal force, opting to swoop behind their targets and apply small bursts of electricity. Stunning, not killing. The entrance to the facility was like the entrance to a primitive dungeon. There were no laser-locks or force-field grids; just a foreboding gate of darkness. As he stepped inside, Wraith felt the darkness within.
It came in waves, like an ocean. The Dark Side powers that erected this facility acted as a fulcrum, pulsating at the core. But what affected Wraith were the despair, anger and hate emanating from the place. He was genuinely surprised that the walls had not decayed from it. This was not the despair of one person. Hundreds, thousands; no, tens of thousands were tortured and experimented upon here, creating mutants and monsters. And it went on for ages, decades. Year after year, cycle after cycle, experiment after experiment; the negative emotions fed the Dark Side and it festered. Even in his horrified state, Wraith understood the ingenuity of such a structure. The place created negativity which fed the Sith’s power. He, in turn, would power his facility, creating more despair. It was a perfect cycle.
They both felt it and their anger intensified.
“We can’t be rash about this,” said Wraith through clenched teeth. He was trying to convince himself rather than his partner.
“What exactly are we doing here?” she asked. Her weapon was already at hand.
“There is someone we need in there. I’ll know when I see them,” he replied. “In the meantime, let us damage this place as much as we can.”
They snuck into an air vent and crawled into the control room. From their perch they saw more guards lounging on their console chairs, playing Sarlacc and other card games. Wraith extracted one of his lightsabers and steadied himself with the other. These guards were not innocent: one prod inside their minds and Wraith knew that they were fully aware of who they supported. He gave Elara a quick nod.
The vent shot downwards, interrupting a three-way game of Sarlacc. The metal vent crashed into the holographic screen. Elara fell down and her weapon bludgeoned one in the head. A kinetic blast blew another guard’s head off. Her leg lashed forwards throwing another guard at Wraith.
The former Sith had teleported inside the room and felt the impact of the guard being thrown at him. His lightsaber activated, impaling the enemy before the remaining four could wrap their heads around what happened in the past half a second.
Two small lances of fire, thin and powerful, shot from Elara’s hands. They hit the guards in the chest and left marks like laser blasts. Wraith lopped the head off of one of them. The last guard had managed to extract his weapon and fire off a wild shot. He missed completely. Instead, the console opposite him burst in a shower of smoke and sparks. Both Force-users shot lightning at him. The energy charred the guard and arced into the consoles in the control room. Warnings and alarms blared, suddenly sending the whole compound into chaos.
“I’ll deal with the droids,” said Elara as she stepped forwards. “I’ll be your distraction. Go rescue whoever it is you have to.” Her purple lightsaber activated. She took a step forwards, towards the mechanical whirring, indicating the arrival of droids. Suddenly she spun and kissed Wraith’s lips.
“For luck,” she said.
“Don’t die,” she yelled as she took off towards the droids.
“You too.” He wasn’t sure whether she heard his voice.
He made his way towards the location he saw in the mutant’s mind. Only a handful of guards, late responders to the blaring alarms, obstructed his path. Not that they had been difficult to deal with. His Force powers had been enough against them. He found himself in a large chamber and horror filled him.
Noise, like the rattling of savage monkey, echoed from the cages.
There were cages everywhere.
They held mutants: some complete like the ones he had affronted at the Jedi Temple. Most were misshapen blobs with welts and overgrown scabs on their chalk white hides. They were all pitted against eachother in a horrific pile of flesh. They all seemed to move towards one place. A tray of slop, probably food, was slumped on one corner. Only the strongest and fittest could fight off the others and reach their meal. It was a bloodbath, with most mutants feasting on eachother’s flesh in a desperate attempt to live.
This scene had repeated itself in various corners, perhaps in six different locations. After the numbers had dwindled down, a human guard wielding a heavy duty stun baton arrived. A dozen Magna-class droids had appeared, poking at the mutants to push them towards eachother.
A particular mutant caught Wraith’s eyes. It was large, a bulky humanoid perhaps eight feet tall. It was perfectly formed with eggshell white skin and no hair. Impossibly thick muscle gave the giant a truly formidable look. He was grunting and savagely eating on the disgusting slop when two Magna droids approached him. He grunted once and swiped his arm, sending droids and mutants flying.
“Come on, Turge,” cawed the human. “You know the drill.” The giant roared and remained where he was. His eyes wore a look of defiance. The warden slapped his wrist-comm and gave his orders.
“I don’t have time for your crap today, Turge. Get back in your cage.”
The giant ignored him.

“All right, then,” said the warden as his voice shook in anger. Clearly he wasn’t used to being ignored. “Kill him,” he barked at the droids.

Friday, 28 June 2013


Last week we introduced Mephisto and it was creepy as heck. Today we go in a different direction - Erik, in the shower, thinking and reminiscing. I.e. having a mental breakdown and trying to piece himself back together. Here's the conclusion to his stream of consciousness.

Because all signs read one message: the balance between good and evil, order and chaos in this universe and possibly in all our neighboring planes of existence, rested on my shoulders. I was that only one that could save it. Apparently, some deity or universal force chose me out of all suckers, to be the fulcrum of its fabric. The universe is an idiot. 

But that didn’t change the fact that some part of me already knew about this. That all my training, all my choices and conflicts led up to that moment - when I encountered a being far greater than anything I had faced, would die under it and come back supercharged. The moment when I would destroy an Alpha, a progenitor of today’s demonic population. 

And I needed to be at my best. I had friends and a family to defend and a universe to preserve.

The universe is so screwed.

( PS: I'm thinking of sharing a new WIP with you guys next week. What do you think? More Erik/Legacy/Book 2 or something Sci-fi and completely new for me?)

(PSS: I'm still debating titles for this project. The tentative title is Mind Walk. Any advice or suggestions are welcome.) 

(OK, seriously Ryanenough with the brackets. Stop breaking the fourth wall and let the poor readers go. They've had enough of you.)

Friday, 21 June 2013


Still on Legacy book 2 (unedited). This part is the creepy intro of the character everybody loves to hate. That's right: in this scene eleven year old Erik and Gil find out that their creepy butler Mr. Faust, is in fact a demon by the name of . . .


“Good evening masters,” he said with is cold, silky voice. He bowed deeply. “I was called Mr. Faust by the staff household as a disguise from who I really am. I am a demon, Elemental of Air and Wind, former Adviser to his fallen majesty, the Demon Emperor, and current council to the Ashendale warlock bloodline. I shall be your instructor in the ways of magic and ancient lore.”

He stood up, his yellow eyes gleaming, fangs exposed. His expression spoke of macabre and horror, the stuff that children dream up and think is in their closet. The monsters we think are watching our every more, the horrors lurking behind the next corner.

“My name is Mephistopheles.” 

Friday, 14 June 2013


So, let me try and explain this scene. Giant underground bunker. Young succubus has to tame a monster. a very famous Chinese monster. Who has way too much energy.

(BDW we're still on unedited Legacy book 2)

“Someone needs to chill off the Ritalin,” I said. Sun Wo Kung looked at me sharply and blew a wet raspberry, covering me in phlegm. 
He pointed a finger at me and screeched “Ugly!” and returned to huffing in Abi’s face.

“Son of a bitch,” said Amaymon as the cat burst out laughing. “I like this guy already.”

The Monkey King jumped off of Abi, doing a wide backflip. He pointed at the cat.
“Kitty. Kittymakesgooddinner. Wanttoeatkitty, wanttoeatkitty.” 

Something Wicked this Way Comes

Part 24 of the Star Wars story.

Something Wicked this Way Comes

It attacked with the frenzy of a caged animal, leaving no quarter for Wraith to counter strike. Its physique reminded him of Rakghoul plagues, common during the Cold War, which made the victims look like a zombie. A feral, omnivorous zombie with a lightsaber and no physical inhibitions. Had Wraith not been completely in tune with the Force and privy to enhanced senses, the mutant would have struck him down. Instead he blocked and parried, until he managed to Force crush the beast’s heart.
Nothing happened.
It kept attacking, until Wraith channelled lightning, disabling its lightsaber and scorching its hands black; a stark contrast against its bleach white skin. Still the lightning did not seem to halt it and, despite missing its limbs, the creature attacked still. Only when Wraith lopped its head off did it fall down dead.
He had no time to relax. That mutant was just a scout, he realized, as he sensed more and heard the ignition of lightsabers. Like a veritable swarm of buzzing locusts, more mutants, emerged by the dozen from the darkness.
“Someone is teleporting them in,” said Elara. She had rushed to his side and they fought back to back. Wraith saw that traditional Force powers had little effect on them and followed Elara’s example of shooting lances of fire, needles of water and reinforcing their bodies to dish out punishment amongst the mutant ranks.
Their lightsabers were cheaply made and clearly rushed in some factory. What clothes they wore resembled hospital garments. They were devoid of hair – some even of teeth and fingernails. A few had tendrils and lekku, although they were little more than stumps and bumps. Their eyes were obsidian, like deep space. And whilst their template was obviously humanoid, there was nothing human about their behaviour.
They fought with mindless ferocity, uncaring for their wounds. They couldn’t feel pain, or indeed anything. Every time they were damaged, Wraith felt the Force heal them, sealing their wounds. It softened blows. They had no internal organs, realized Wraith. Their brain, mostly dead, was remotely controlled by someone using the Dark Side of the Force.
Marionettes. Mutant marionettes.
When the last one was left, Wraith halted Elara from killing it. Instead he dismembered its arms and legs. The mutant still attempted to bite him and snapped its gnarled teeth at him. He levitated it with the Force and smashed it head first into a wall, leaving a dent. The mutant shook uncontrollably and struggled to function. Almost immediately, Wraith had his hands around its head, sending out lightning. Not offensive arcs, but subtle, nearly microscopic, transmissions of electricity, interfering with its remote signal. He jammed the Force signal and shut down its brain.
“Why did you keep it alive?” asked Elara.
“They are being operated through the Force,” he replied. “Which means I can trace the signal.”

Master Yoda was not happy with his plan. “Way of the Jedi, this is not. Torture, we do not.”
“It will be painless,” explained Wraith. “I simply wish to extract information directly from his brain.”
“Sith, that technique is,” replied Yoda.
“Well in case you haven’t noticed,” snapped Wraith “I am neither Jedi nor Sith.”
 Yoda gave him a reproaching look. “Do not let fear and confusion cloud your mind.” He sighed. “Too much blood, today was shed. Answers you must find. But present I will be. My duty to you, neglect I shall not.”

They had chained the mutant inside a holding cell. Yoda and Elara were to hold it steady with the Force whilst Wraith activated its mind again.
The creature struggled violently, ceasing only thanks to the efforts of the witch and the Jedi Grandmaster. Once confident that it wouldn’t bite his hand off, Wraith grabbed its head and concentrated.
Though the Force he dove into its brain. The creature’s mind was a mass off twisting darkness and rot. He saw a vat, in a lab, as a distant memory. He saw an operating droid driving long needles and spikes into its body and mind. Then he showed up.
He was the Dark Side incarnate, serving only as a phantom. It infiltrated its mind, removed any notion of intellect and individuality only to replace it with itself. The Sith had given the order to ravage the Temple, setting the mutants loose on Coruscant without restraint.
His presence was too much for Wraith to comprehend. He could never grasp onto the Sith and counter his influence. Instead he settled for the next best thing.
He made himself smaller almost into a synapse and lodged into a tiny corner of the mutant’s brain, like a nano-virus.
“Where do you come from?”
He’d nearly gotten the answer. The galaxy became a system, then a planet, then a location, then a room, then a vat. Using a complicated mix of Drain knowledge, the Art of the Small and psychometry, Wraith began uncovering the origins of the mutant.
Suddenly, darkness loomed, cutting off his connection. He felt the Sith strike back and pushed him out of the mutant’s mind.
Wraith was back in the holding cell and thrown backwards.
“Stop him!” he yelled. But it was too late. He felt the Sith destroy the mutant’s brain, rotting it from the inside.
Elara and Yoda felt its death too.
“Did you get it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“A new location have you?” asked Yoda.
Wraith steadied himself and tried to get rid of the Sith’s looming image.
“Yes, I do,” he said as he hid a hand which shook uncontrollably.

“Dromund Kaas.”

Wednesday, 12 June 2013


Part 23 of the Star Wars story. At the end you have to go 'dun dun dunnnn'. I'm an idiot.



The heavy duty droids were bashing away at the barricade. The clones had built trenches from furniture and scrap metal and took shelter behind their nests. The commando unit had lined up in rows of battle ready soldiers – they were the driving force behind the counterattack. The other clones had longer range weapons and would support them through heavy fire. A squad of them also joined the Commandoes. Wraith and Elara were at the very front acting as vanguards. Behind them, the commandoes were divided in two groups and were to follow their charge. The Captain stood next to Wraith and Elara.
After Wraith had given the order, the clones scattered inside a nearby armoury and recharged their weaponry. They replaced damaged gear and replenished their ammo packs. Wraith and Elara had armoured themselves: Wraith selected only leather materials – he was accustomed to speed and manoeuvrability and feared that bulky armour would interfere with his Force power or his nimble movements. Elara, however, adapted some heavy clone armour. It felt light to her; after all, she was used to her Clan’s steel armour.
As they waited, Wraith noticed the clones fidgeted. He could feel their uneasiness.
“Say Elara,” he called. “How about a wager?”
She raised her eyebrows. “What kind?”
“Given that you saved my hide on Dathomir, how about you take it easy and let the man do the heavy lifting?”
She snorted. “Like you can keep up with me.”
“Twenty credits says I rack up more droids than you.”
“A hundred say you’ll eat my dust,” she shot back. Wraith heard some of the clones snicker.
“How about you Captain? Commander?” he called.
Talon spoke out. “We’re not allowed to gamble, General,” he said sternly. Then a grin stretched on his lips. “But if I were to bet, Sir, I’d say General Elara would win.”
Wraith gave him a quizzical look.
“She’s got the bigger stick,” replied Talon as nearly clones snickered.
“We tend to side with whoever holds the biggest weapons,” added Maze.
Wraith grinned. He activated his twin lightsabers, flooding the corridor in flame colored light. He heard gaps. His lightsabers twirled as he exhibited intricate flourishes. He conjured them into a lightsaber staff, twirled it around and stopped in an impassive pose.
“So who’s got the bigger stick now?” he asked cheekily.
Elara snickered. She extended her pike to full length and activated her lightsaber. Purple light invaded the flame’s territory. She spun the pike around, executing some very impressive moves. She too finished in an impressive pose.
“She still does, Sir,” replied Maze simply. This time Wraith heard laughs. He pretended to sulk and separated his weapons.
“You guys suck,” he said mockingly.
There was a tremendous shudder and cracks appeared in the stone barricades. The droids were breeching in.
“Hey, boys,” yelled Wraith as he looked towards the barricades. “I know we don’t know each other that well, so how about we scrap some droids and go out for a drink later?”
Their voice was in union. “Aye Sir!”
“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” he roared back.
“AYE SIR!” Their voice shook the building. They were no longer afraid. Rather, they felt their souls on fire. The droids breeched completely and battle droids ran towards the clones.
Wraith readied himself for battle and yelled a final order.

With a burst of Force speed, the two Force users met the droids first. Wraith’s lightsaber twirled, creating a barrier against the blaster fire. His Shien training proved efficient in redirecting laser, giving him enough time to close the distance that a swordsman needs. He felled one droid after another. A super battle droid closed in, its arm extended. Wraith spun, slicing off one arm then the droid itself.
“Droidekas,” he heard a close yell. The bent droids were shooting at clones, their shield generators stopping any return fire. Wraith levitated one and threw it into a second one. That created a domino effect, toppling over the entire row. Clones rolled grenades at them and most of the droidekas blew up or sustained heavy damage.
More showed up. They were proving too much for the clones. Wraith thrust out both hands. He altered the natural magnetic field around him and extended it. The field covered all the droidekas and the magnetism moved up their shield generators, shorting them out.
The clones returned fire.
Wraith’s magnetic field pushed the droids far and then he switched the polarity, causing attraction instead of repulsion. All those droids shot back into him. But he was prepared.
With his twin lightsabers he used the Niman Jar’Kai technique of Rising Whirlwing. The flame colored blades spun around him with such velocity that all the clones saw as a solid flame covering Wraith. The lightsabers shredded through the droids, reducing them to shreds.

Elara’s mastery of the halberd was reflected by the way she used her lightsaber pike. The lavender blade sliced through a droid, cleaving it in half. She plunged the end of staff into a battle droid and channelled the Force. With a burst of effort she lifted the droid upwards, over her and into a second battle droid. Her blade sliced through another one. She channelled a fire spell through her weapon and the last third of the staff superheated to a glowing orange. She plunged it through a droideka, gently, the weapon parting the shield generator and cutting into the droid as if it were little more than air.
When she felt Wraith using his magnetic spell, she took advantage of it. She channelled the Force and slammed the butt of her polearm on the ground. The Force wave uprooted all droids, to be caught in Wraith’s magnetic field. At the same time she used an earth spell to root herself against his spell. She paused to watch Wraith slice through the droids like a buzzsaw. Movement caught her peripheral vision.
An assassin droid crawled against the wall stealthily. Wraith was too tired to notice it closing in on him.
She held her weapon like a javelin and threw it with all her might. The pike shot into the leaping assassin droid and held fast. The assassin droid was now hung like a grotesque ornament.

More droids closed in on them, this time led by a second battalion of assassin droids. Elara realized that this army was too thick for the clones to handle and Wraith was only just recovering. She sped ahead, unarmed. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t thin out their advancing numbers.
Fire, bright and thin, shot from her hands like a laser beam. She sliced through the droids with ease. The surviving droids retaliated with blaster fire. Undeterred she leapt in an impressive display of acrobatics and twisted. The thin flames sliced through the droids.
She landed and behind her an assassin droid loomed over her, holding a vibro knife. She didn’t have time to react and braced herself for the killing blow. It never came.
Wraith’s lightsaber sliced through the droid as he appeared over the Witch. He conjured his weapons and sliced through another droid. Laser fire shot at them and met his Force barrier. He grabbed Elara and teleported. He dropped her amongst the clones where she retrieved her weapon and disappeared again in a single step.
He appeared in the midst of the battalion and retaliated with a barrage of vicious strikes. He gave himself over to Juyo, allowing its brutal attacks to reflect his intentions. He would not allow anyone to know the only person he ever loved. He will destroy them all.
The clones and Elara watched in silence as Wraith unleashed one feral attack after the other. He felled the legion and straightened his shoulders. His eyes met Elara’s and gave her the thumbs up. She smiled back.
Just as he was about to rejoin the troops, Wraith felt its presence. Something foul, dark and twisted. He spun and saw a shadow move erratically. The figure looked humanoid and grotesque. It was disfigured and cloth in rags.

And in one hand, it carried a red lightsaber.

Monday, 10 June 2013

Suit Up

Part 22 of the Star Wars story. enjoy

Suit Up

The Caves of Ilum were some of the Jedi’s most sacred places and Wraith could not believe that he and Elara were trusted to be there.
After taking her to the Jedi Temple, Elara had met with Yoda and Wraith requested her to be part of his team. Yoda smiled, chuckled and said “made her choice, she already has”. Elara told Yoda that she can to act as a liaison between her Clan and the Jedi, hopefully creating a mutual alliance. Then they moved onto a long talk, where Wraith conveyed all he knew to the Grandmaster, vouching for the ways of the Singing Mountain Clan. Yoda was happy with the inner peace the two young ones before him seemed to find.
“Changed, both of you are,” he had said. “Reflected this change must be. To the Crystal Caves of Ilum you must go. Cultivate your soul, you will.”
And so the two were allowed inside the maze of crystals and light illuminated the kaleidoscope of colour within. They went their separate ways. Elara followed her senses and allowed the Force to guide her. She was led to a deep stalagmite and sensed a crystal, a small one, inside it. She coerced the ice and stone to give way and the stalagmite loosened and fell. She caught it with the Force and shredded away the casing. The crystal was plain and rough: like her, it was only a bud. She placed it deep in the soil beneath her and, just like a flower; she nourished it with her powers. But, this time, she gave the crystal her very essence, as if to create a double for her. Soon the crystal grew brighter and smoother and, when Elara extracted it and held it to the light, it shone a bright purple, almost lavender, like her eyes. Its colour mesmerized her: now she knew why Wraith had complemented her eyes as her most beautiful feature. She reached behind her and grabbed a Phrik cane. It was her own lightsaber; which she had created after Wraith had instructed her how. He had shown her a multitude of weapon handles but she told him that she preferred to use something she was familiar with. She was praised in her clan for her mastery over the halberd and thus chose a lightsaber pike design. Over the next three days she laboured over forging the polearm. She refused to use already available materials – “Phrik is well and good,” she told Wraith “but it is not suitable for spells. I want to make this weapon one with the Force. I am first and foremost, a Witch of Dathomir.” And so she forged a handle using traditional Phrik and Dathomir steel using the methods of her clan. Once finished, the staff could channel her powers as easily as her clan weapon, which she refused to take with her from her home world. She also made the handle collapsible, so that she could shorten its length by about half and kept it attached across her back by using a long magnetic strip.
For the lightsaber portion, she created a shoto – a short lightsaber. The lightsaber pike had a shorter plasma blade but thicker and she figured that a shoto attacked to her custom handle would do the truck. It took her nearly a day to put the two components together but soon she had one complete weapon. All that was left was the crystal.
She dismantled her weapon, revealing the innards of her polearm. The large battery cells and internal workings going from halfway through the handle till the end of the emitter matrix at the top. She placed the crystal a quarter for the emitter, sliding it in its chamber. She assembled it again and twirled the weapon around. She lit the crystal and a thick blade extended from the edge. Purple flooded the caves. Elara channelled her powers and felt the crystal respond. In fact, she felt the whole weapon as a part of her, like a limb that had always been there. With a satisfactory smile she switched off her weapon, collapsed the handle and stuck it to her back. She and Wraith promised to meet back at the ship once they had accomplished their mission.
Wraith was sent deeper in the Caves until he came at a clearing. There he sat in the dim glow of the surrounding crystals. He felt the need to communicate with his crystals. Extracting his weapons, he dismantled them and held the fours red crystals in his cupped hands. He closed his eyes and brought his hands to his face. Inspired by the Witches, he murmured a prayer of thanks to the crystals. He felt them resonate and channelled the Force through them. Subtly he felt the synthetic molecules of the crystals morph, evolving just like he did. He was no longer bound by the blood he shed but rather by intention and balance. Their deep crimson hue glowed and burned brighter and brighter. The colour changed to the ember red – the colour Wraith associated with flames. The deep crimson had become a burning ember colour and the crystals resembled tiny ambers surrounded by fire. It was a scene he once saw in a forge – he admired the metalworkers who held molten ore and shaped it to suit their needs. It reminded him of the Force. ‘No, not just the Force,’ he thought. ‘This is my destiny. I forge my own destiny.’ He assembled his weapons around the crystals, got up and activated his lightsabers. The colour of flames exploded, illuminating caves far beyond his reach and knowledge. It was as if Wraith held twin suns in his hands. These weapons were stronger, better. With these, and his knowledge of the Force, he could erase the Sith. He could bring balance and peace. He could become a two agent of the Force.

They met outside. Elara was already playing around with her weapons, eager to test it out. Wraith was about to show her his, when they bend a distress call coming from the ship.
“Wraith, Elara. Is anyone there?” A Jedi shape appeared from the holoprojector.
“Yes. What is it?” replied Wraith. The figure shimmered as it was replaced by another. Master Yoda appeared.
“Under siege the Temple is. Attacking, Dooku’s forces are. Protect the front entrance Master Windu and I can. Rely on you I must. The back entrance, and the Academy, you must defend.”
Wraith nodded. “You can trust me, Master Yoda. Not one of these kids will be harmed. You have my word.”
Yoda nodded and disappeared. The communication link had terminated.
“This is our chance to prove our loyalty,” said Wraith. Elara placed her hand gently on his shoulder.
“And we will do it together.”

Their ship flew rapidly over legions of droids and smoke coming from the Temple. Wraith felt his old anger building up and sought to channel it into determination. They descended inside the Temple courtyard. Droids surrounded the ship and a small squad of clones provided cover fire. With a nod to each other, Wraith and Elara burst from the ship and found themselves at the heart of the droid battalion.
She yelled and spread her hands. A scythe of wind, highly pressurized, sliced through the droids. Wraith unleashed a Force wave sending droids flying. Even the ship inched backwards.
Red lightning arced from his hands to the droids as he yelled “go, go, go” to Elara. Together they crossed the courtyard, blasting droids as the clone squad provided cover fire. Before they could take shelter, Wraith levitated a boulder and electrified it. When he hurled it towards a large battle droid, it exploded, disintegrating nearby droids. Elara cupped her hands, murmured a spell and a compressed ball of light formed in her hands.
“Here, toss this,” she told Wraith as she threw it at him. Wraith recognized the spell and caught it with the Force, careful not to touch it and set it off. He was facing Elara and shot her spell over his shoulder using a small Force blast. The globe of light was sent in the droids’ midst and exploded, disintegrating every droid there. It even blew up their ship’s wing.
Wraith gripped the ceiling telekinetically and brought down giant boulders, effectively blocking the entrance.
“More will be coming,” he told the clone leader.
The latter saluted. “Thank you for saving our behinds there. Generals Wraith and Elara I presume.”
Wraith and Elara looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Is there a problem Sir?”
Wraith held up his hands. “Ah nothing. It’s just funny: a former Sith and a Dathmirian Witch being called Generals. I just never thought I’d see it happen.”
They straightened up. “Yeah we are Wraith and Elara,” said Elara. “Who’s in charge here?”
The Captain stood at attention. “Captain Maze, in command of the thirteenth battalion, Ma’am.”
Another clone strode out. This one wore all black like his unit and had a yellow shoulder pauldron and yellow markings on his armour. He walked with the casualty of a man who has been through some major fights. “Commander Talon and these are my men; the hundredth and tenth Commando Unit.” He saluted. “Your orders Generals?”
Wraith glanced at the barricade and at the wide corridor they were in.

“They’ll bring diggers out soon,” said Wraith. He raised his voice. “To all clone units. This is your first order: Suit up.” 

Friday, 7 June 2013


A random part from Legacy book 2 ARC. This one has Amaymon; cos I couldn't resist.

“You gotta get that thing out of the coffin,” continued the cat.
“How do I do that?”
“Are you really dumb, man? You’ve never really watched any King Arthur stuff? Same way you pull any sword, man - you grab the handle and yank it. I mean, how old are you, fourteen, fifteen? I really shouldn’t be explaining the whole yanking process to you.”

“Anything else?” I said as I inched closer and closer to the sword handle.
“Could you put Romeo and Juliet back under me? I was getting to the hot part.”

Monday, 3 June 2013

Moonlit Sonata

Part 21 of the Star Wars story and things are heating up. Enjoy.

Moonlit Sonata

The Cleansing Springs were a series of hot springs, each separated by a large hut to shield it from view. Wraith went up to the farthest one, disrobed and immersed himself in the water. He was at the topmost hill on their mountains and nothing obstructed a moonlit view of the valleys below.
The water sucked away all the fatigue and worries until he felt at peace. He felt one with the world and with the Force. It was a feeling he would cherish forever.
Amidst his peace he heard her approach. He could read her intentions clearly but couldn’t help open his eyes and see for himself. Fully nude, Elara sat on the ledge of the hot spring and gently eased herself into the water next to him.
“What are you doing?” he whispered huskily.
Her eyes burned with passion. “I’m done pretending. I have tried everything I could to convince myself otherwise but I feel attracted to you. I know you reciprocate my feelings wholeheartedly. Mother saw this as well earlier.” She pressed her body against his and his hands wrapped around her. Beneath the full moon her purple eyes shone like fireflies. Her pale skin glistened with the same silvery hue of the water crests and her obsidian hair, plastered gently across her back did not obscure a vision of beauty. She touched his rugged face, mesmerized by his grey eyes. They had a slight golden tinge in them. Not the sulphuric yellow of the Dark Side but a pure gold, like an early sun. His dark hair was long but enough to give him rugged charm as did his slight stubble.
“From this moment onwards I have nothing restricting me from being with you,” she said as she moved closer. “Let go, Wraith. Let go of it all.” Their lips met and Wraith’s mind cleared.
Their kiss deepened as their hands gently traced across their bodies. A shy, gentle touch soon became a deep, intense motion and they let their instincts take reign. As their bodies exploded each other their minds connected, sharing in each other’s passion and feeling. And finally, under the full moon’s clear light, they became one.
Their lovemaking only began in the hot springs. Wraith had picked her up, causing Elara to yelp and giggle, and carried her to the hut where they resumed their passionate activities in a more comfortable place. It was well into the night when they fell asleep in each other’s’ arms.
She woke him from his sleep by calling him through the Force. Wraith pulled his pants on and reluctantly left Elara’s warm embrace. The Matriarch waited for him. She leaned against the railing, overseeing the vast lands beneath. Wraith leaned next to her.
“I see that you finally consummated your feelings for each other,” she said. “Good. I haven’t seen Elara this happy. I am glad that you have found each other.”
“I am honoured to have met her,” he replied.
“Outsider, Wraith,” she said. Her head was lowered in his direction. Wraith was taken back. “You came before me with a request. Now I must request something of you,” she said. Wraith placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her up gently.
“Anything for you Matriarch,” he said.
“Please take care of my daughter,” she begged. Wraith sensed the genuine care in her and realized something.
“Your daughter,” he said. “I thought you were using the term generically but this care; this is something only a parent can feel. Elara is your actual daughter is she not?”
The elder witch nodded. “Yes. I am Clan Mother to all the Singing Mountain Clan but Elara is my flesh.” Wraith began to panic: he had slept with the Matriarch’s daughter.
“Don’t fret,” replied the old witch. “I can see that what you two have is genuine. That is the reason I set you up together. Very rarely does one achieve what you have, Wraith: Love.”
“May I ask you something, then?” he replied. She nodded. “The Sith teach in favour for strong emotion and allow themselves to be slaves to passion. I have felt that and it leads to destruction and despair. The Jedi, on the other hand, preach detachment. They forgo emotion completely and that leads to emptiness. I do not want to let go of what I feel but I do not wish it to overtake me.”
The Matriarch chuckled. “I understand. My dear boy, that is the very essence of balance. You must feel but control what you feel as well. The love you feel is too pure to become destruction unless you taint it. Therefore you must control your passions but never your love. That love gives you purpose and hope. Never let go of it.”
Wraith nodded. “Thank you.” He gazed at the hut. “Will Elara take your place someday?”
“No,” she replied. “She should, but my daughter’s destiny is far greater than just the Clan. Your destinies are intertwined now. Do not worry about us, Outside. We will be just fine. Focus on your business.”
“Yes, Matriarch,” replied Wraith as he turned to leave.
“And Wraith?” she called. He turned. “Please take care of my daughter.”
“I will,” he replied. “With all my heart.”

“I have faith in you,” said the Matriarch. “May the Force be with you.”

So Long Sentiment

Part 20 of the Star Wars story. Enjoy

So Long Sentiment

Weeks turned to months and after two full moon cycles, Wraith was still on Dathomir, learning from the Singing Mountain Clan. They had refused to accept him at first: they considered men to be less in touch with the Force. However both the Matriarch and Elara vouched for him.
Their lives were so simple compared to any other society Wraith had encountered. Their unyielding faith in the Force guided their every breath. They worshipped aspects of the Force, thanking the very energy that gave them life for the day that passed. They celebrated the simple things like the rising sun and gusts of wind – all of which, explained the Matriarch, are the foundation of life on any planet. If one were not to be thankful for the very air they breathe, then what can they be thankful for?
But there wasn’t just blind faith and acceptance. The Singing Mountain Clan was the most powerful clan on the planet and that was for one reason only:  their unyielding tenacity to improve themselves. To them, it was a blasphemy not to give one’s best in anything they do, just like it was a blasphemy to harm any living thing unless to preserve balance. Wraith had been most curious about this. To them, hunting would mean taking a life so they sought to repay the planet by channelling the Force through their lands. If a Nightsister harboured murderous intent, it was their duty to destroy that source of negativity. It would topple the balance between Light and Dark.
Wraith realized just how limited his knowledge was. He began by participating in their morning rituals. Prayers of gratitude gradually flowed into meditation and his connection with the Force grew daily. It was an arduous process to unbind himself from his training: all his life he was trained as a Sith and an assassin. All he knew was combat. He had his specialized style of lightsaber combat, coupled with over-practiced Force techniques, mostly involved telekinesis and physical aspects, and hand-to-hand combat suited only for quick killing. As a Jedi he saw how he could use his powers for benevolence and peace rather than blood spill but he was still caught in the clutches of conflict. And yet the more he observed the Witches, the more he realized how misused the Force is. They called them spells and were direct applications of the Force. In reality there was nothing magical about it- just a very specific discipline of Force usage. What surprised Wraith was not the spells themselves but the sheer number of them. The majority had no direct combat application whatsoever. Every witch cultivated plants and vegetation with the Force. They spoke to animals; not to subdue but to ask them for aid. Through the Force, the Witches of Dathomir had achieved a symbiosis with their homeward and the universe.
So Wraith prayed with them. He had two beautiful plants inside the hut he had built by coaxing clay from the land through the Force. One of them even began to blossom. He trained with their warriors, trying to relinquish his body to the will of the Force. Even with his enlightenment, he was still a mess and still fallible as one. He had learnt to understand physics and bend nature to his will. He could conjuror fire, albeit it was nowhere near as powerful and efficient as the Witches’. He had more success extracting water from damp areas and freezing it, he learnt to feel the current of the wind and manipulate it. He learnt to understand the soil beneath him and transmute its minerals. He could create small globules of light. His lightning could take shape of small delicate red bolts, gently snaking around his fingertips or become a raging storm.
And once she felt his training was complete, the Matriarch summoned him.
“You have fully immersed yourself in our ways, Outsider,” she said. “What do you think of us?”
Wraith dipped his head solemnly. “I think that if everyone lived as you do, this foolish war would have never taken place. There would be no Jedi and no Sith: merely a group of co-existing Force-adepts who seek only understanding.”
The Matriarch nodded gently. “I am glad that you understand what we strive so hard for. Do you still intend to take my daughter with you?”
Wraith nodded and gazed at Elara. “Only if she wishes it. I humbly request her aid in my mission.”
Elara’s large eyes softened. “Mother,” she said. “Since my childhood I have desired nothing but to explore the universe and bring about our peace to other worlds. The Outsider is offering me this.”
The elder witch nodded slightly.
“Also,” continued Elara, “according to our laws we must always help those in need. In helping Wraith, I am helping not only our Clan and our allied clans but the entire universe.” She locked eyes with Wraith and he smiled, grateful. She, too, smiled.
The Matriarch let out a chuckle and then a full giggle. “Ah, I see now that it is not just your sense of justice driving you, my child,” she said. Both looked at her and blushed. But their emotions were clear enough for the Matriarch to feel and through the Force she saw its evolution.
She saw Elara and Wraith fighting for the first time. Her instincts had been right – they both felt attracted to each other. When Wraith had kissed Elara, it all became clear. She had refused to speak to him for a week before snapping at him because his form was off. He had been making deliberate mistakes just to get her to talk to him again and felt so happy when she did. After that they spent most of their efforts pretending that the attraction did not exist. But instead it grew stronger. Wraith would listen to her tuition with rapt attention, enthusiastically learning from her. She mesmerized him for a different reason now – he had never met someone he wanted to know better. In turn, he would fascinate her with tales of his missions and his experiences both as a Sith and Jedi. Her heart burned with a desire to experience those memories for herself and once, during a full moon festival, she had told him so. He told her that he would love for that to happen but also that he wished to accompany her. He confessed his fascination that night and, before they knew it, their hands were intertwined as she lay gently on top of him and their faces inched closer. Through the vision, even the Matriarch found herself cheering them on. But their natures prevented them from fully trusting in their emotions and both pulled back at the first contact between their lips. Not all was lost though. From that night onwards they spent every waking moment with each other. Both smiled a lot. Their hearts thumped violently every time their brushed against each other.
The Matriarch grinned as she experienced the feeling between the two sitting across from her.

“You both have my blessing,” she said. “But before you go, you must use the Cleansing Springs. They will restore your strength and remove any negative energy. Both of you will leave from my land with all your fatigue and stress removed and with replenished hope.”

Feed Me with a Kiss

Part 19 of the Star Wars story

Feed me with a Kiss

“Welcome outsider.” The Singing Mountain Matriarch poured him some tea in his cup. She was older than the rest of her clan, but unlike her other Matriarch contemporaries, she retained her usual radiance. Despite her apparent age she was still precise and graceful: in face, to Wraith she looked exactly like an aged version of his saviour.
On his march back to their village, Wraith had reverted back to his usual self. Pushing his newly arisen feelings aside, he immersed himself in the Force, seeing things for what they were. He saw two things: the first that this clan of witches were more in tune with the Light Side of the Force, albeit not like Jedi. The way the witches approached their use of the Force was nothing like Wraith had ever seen before. When comparing them to Jedi, it was like they played the same melody as Jedi but on a different instrument and at a very different pace.
“Thank you,” he replied as he drank the tea. It tasted bitter and light. The Matriarch smiled in return.
“Your business is with our kind, is it not?” she asked. Wraith understood her connection with the Force and how both their minds were linked through it.
“It is. I have come to seek one of your kind to join me in my endeavours.”
“Why a Dathomirian?”
“The Force showed me.”
“What do these endeavours entail?”
“The Force gives me direction. But I know of Sith that need to be eliminated,” said Wraith.
“But you are not a Jedi replied the Matriarch. “That much is clear about you.”
Wraith told her his story, recounting everything to the aged Witch. She listened intently until he finished, gently sipping her tea.
“I have felt this disturbance for some time now,” she finally said. “But we are only concerned by ourselves and our clans. This is simply the way we are.” She rose. Wraith thought that her words meant she was unwilling to help him.
“There is however an anomaly within the Singing Mountain Clan,” continued the Matriarch. “Just like the Sith, Ventress, was destined to roam the galaxy so is one of my very own acolytes.”
“Come on in, Elara,” she said with a loud voice. There was a surprised shuffle outside of the tent and the beautiful witch entered. She bowed deeply before her elder and knelt next to Wraith. She refused to look at him and fixed her eyes on the kettle; acting like a child who was caught in the act.
The Matriarch laughed. “It seems that my child has taken a liking to you, Outsider.” Blood rose to Elara’s cheek. Wraith’s gaze was still on her, taking in every angular and delicate feature.
“And the interest appears to be reciprocated,” chuckled the older woman. It was Wraith’s turn to look away.
“Fascination of a different life and fascination of connection to the Force,” continued the Matriarch. “It seems you two have intertwining destinies.”
She rose prompting the other two to follow her. “I am willing to let go of my child Elara,” she said. “But your endeavours will end in misery. You require better understanding of who you are, Outsider, if you are to succeed.”
“What do you have in mind?” asked Wraith.
A sly smile appeared on the old woman’s face. “I will let Elara educate you in the ways of the Singing Mountain. Like you, we are balanced. Like you, we are strong. Now you must learn to live with who you are.”

Her foot crushed his throat and Wraith was sent flying backwards.
“This is our way of life,” she stated.
Wraith channelled the Force to heal his injuries and stood up. “Kicking men in the neck?” he rasped.
She ignored him. “We breathe the Force, we live on the Force. Every step I take is enhanced by the Force, every notion is deliberate and every word a spell.”
Wraith approached her in a fighting stance. Both of them were deprived of any weapons. Elara had taken him to an empty field and demanded him to show her what he knew of the Force. Before he could blink, she was already kicking him.
Wraith opened himself to the Force: it healed his wounds, it made him faster and stronger, it enhanced his senses telling him where and when his opponent will strike and even where to hit back. As he moved closer he heard her mutter something in a language he did not comprehend. She let out a gust of wind: it spiralled and his face with the power of an actual blow. His head twisted unnaturally due to the wind currents.
“We use the Force to shape our spells,” she said. “We control nature.” Fire sprung from her hands. Her fireball would have damaged him had Wraith not unleashed his own Force blast. He disappeared, planning to reappear behind her. Elara’s hand swung, catching Wraith in the jaw as he reappeared.
“I can see how far the rift in space goes. I know where you would go.” Wraith Force gripped some dirt and flung it in her eyes. He followed up, driving his knee in her stomach.
“Tell me, witch,” he said still reeling from her assault. “Did I perhaps threaten you when I was a Sith? Or is it the fact that I am your equal?”
She flew at him, throwing him in the ground. They rolled, a mess of links and dirt, each struggling for the top position. He kicked her off and shot lightning at her. She redirected it into a blast. Wraith had a Force grip on her leg and they both flew.
Wraith slammed against a tree. He heard his vertebrae crack. Vines came to life, entangling him to the trunk. Elara’s hands wrapped around his neck and she freed one to charge a lightning bolt. Wraith could barely breathe and did the one thing his instincts told him to.
He titled his head forwards and locked lips with the witch.
The sheer shock of the sudden kiss disrupted Elara’s concentration. The vines receded and her strength ebbed. Wraith broke the kiss and turned them suddenly. Their faces were inches away, a fierce look in their eyes. Both their hands were in front of their body: lightning, ferocious red from him and incandescent white from her, sparked angrily at each other. Neither one striking and yet the pressure of the Force power built up until the lightning exploded in a shower of sparks.
Elara looked shaken.

“Never speak of this again,” she said in frustrated tones as she walked away from Wraith.