Post by Marshall on Apr 5, 2019 12:56:55 GMT -5
"Hey, Breis! Need you up top!"
The bark cut through anything that Solomon or Dr Azair might have said in reply to Breis, but it took a moment for the woman who'd shouted it to become visible.
In that moment, Breis Teimar snapped up the weapon he'd leaned next to Renda and automatically held it as if he might need it. Renda jolted upright, pushing against the rock behind him, making to get up. Azair crossed the distance between him and the man in one stride, thanks to his extra-long legs, and put a hand on Renda's arm that could be read as a sign for Renda to wait or, in a flash, as a grip ready to hoist the injured man to his feet to help him stand.
The warrior who emerged through a splash of rock and around the opposite side of the area was better-outfitted than most of the Mandals. She must have been armored when the impact swamped the area.
Without being asked, she reported: "Kid recognized something about the big guy. Said a bunch of vakishit I don't understand."
-Need you up top!- Solomon's head snapped in the direction of the sound, and just as quickly as Breis reached for his weapon, Sol's left hand fell to where his own was non-existant. Also in that moment, Sol made an attempt to push himself up. It was a clumsy effort, but soon turned more smooth when his left hand closed around nothing, and was then swiftly diverted to helping him rise. It hit him, then, the memory of where his blaster had gone. The damn theif... He'd have to find a way to remedy that soon. "What did he say?"
The warrior's explanation got Azair to relax a fraction, and he murmured to Renda: "Stay here."
The woman flicked a look at Solomon, then eyed Breis again, already backing up to turn and lead them out and around from that part of the cave. It wasn't the same path up that Jeryndi and Medren had taken with their guide, but it amounted to the same thing: a small footpath of glossy, filthy rock that hugged the larger cave entrance but led up to a level just above.
Breis was right behind the woman; Azair would wait for Solomon if he was going, and then take up the rear.
The Red kept the view from being grand, and grit made footing iffy, while dust obscured the details. So the only interesting thing to see was once they were above, where a smaller version of the cavemouth below opened skyward like a bubble caught mid-burst. It seemed rimmed by bar-like formations that might in another context have been stalactites and stalagmites, but here looked more like drips being flung outward when the bubble popped, and frozen in place.
When they got there, they'd find Jeryndi and Medren standing together... Jeryndi had one hand on his son's shoulder, the other resting at his side. They were standing closer to the area's entrance than they were towards the suspended bodies. They stood with Tavv'ari.
It was concern that got his feet moving as he fell into step behind Breis. He had a suspicion, one that was curling up his spine with cold little fingers. It was a suspicion he hoped wasn't right. There was a small split second on the way up where Sol felt his covered boots slip just a bit against the grit, causing him to reach out his gloved left hand against the rocky walls around them to keep himself steady as they passed through. When they reached the top, and it opened into the area they found themselves, he first looked toward Jeryndi and Medren with a nod toward his nephew, "Is he alright?" He asked Jer, and waited just long enough for the answer before looking around the space. Maybe under other circumstances such a formation could have been considered magnificent. With The Red swirling, a planet dying, and an enemy lurking its beauty was lost.
Tavv'ari was the small Mandal who had been maskless when they'd arrived, and who had promptly availed herself of one of their envirosuits. She stood waiting for the others with puzzled tension. Ra'aqi stepped aside, too. Breis eyed Medren expectantly.
In the little bubble-cave, beyond the father and son and the Mandalorian, were three figures that might have been floating, one bigger than the other two. They were hard to make out in the shadows.
But Breis wasn't the one that Medren walked up to... It was Solomon. He turned and pointed to the invader that was floating... "It's him," he told his uncle. "The ghost from the Wayfinder."
When Medren walked up to him, Sol looked down at the boy. His shoulders pulled back as he took that in, and then looked in the direction of where the boy was pointing, "You're sure?" He asked, even as he was laying his left hand on Medren's shoulder and then starting that direction to see for himself.
"Ghost?" Breis asked. "Wayfinder? --Stop, ad'ika (kid)."
"Yes, I'm sure," he told Solomon. He looked to Breis, shaking his head. "I think Solomon can explain it better than I can... But all 3 of us saw it. It was a phantom of some kind. It was dressed like a Mandal. It spoke our language. It kept attacking us, but didn't ever connect. Wafted right through us. It didn't know where it was."
That explanation was...an interesting take on it, Sol thought. He paused to look Breis' way, "The Wayfinder is my ship. We were on it before we set out from Keldabe. The 'ghost' was actually a holoprojection. It appeared in the lounge of the ship, and attacked. Being a holo it had no effect on any of us, which is a good thing. Neither Ava, the boy, or myself would be here talking to you if it had been flesh and blood."
Breis' brow was drawn tight again. "A holo from where? They can comm out?" Because obviously his people couldn't.
But he was moving again, this time to encourage Solomon to see for himself so that he could back up to dismiss this and get on with explaining.
"That's not *entirely* true," Medren said, looking back to Sol. "It connected with the walls of the ship." Jeryndi walked forward to put a hand on Medren's shoulder. "I was about to see what I could do for the Dreamers," he explained to Sol.
Medren had once again pulled his attention. He had to stop himself from replying immediately. It wasn't Medren's fault. The boy didn't understand just how sensitive and confusing those details could be, or just how hard it was going to make Sol's explanation. If he wasn't wearing a hood with a filter on it for the sake of his health, Sol would have rubbed a hand across his stubble chin before answering. "I think the transmission was an accident, or a perhaps a warning of some kind. The Wayfinder is a...a unique ship." He looked toward his cousin for a moment, just a brief one, and weighed his words out, "It was constructed to suit me as a slicer, and so has some strange attributes. However my ship intercepted that message while being unable to fly, I'm not sure just yet. But whoever sent it, IF this is the same being -- we need to find them soon." He was then turning back, and making his way toward the sleepers. "Jeryndi, if you wake it, you're going to have to be ready to either kill it or put it under again." As he moved, Sol placed his left hand against his right arm, bringing it tight against his body, holding his forearm so it was bent at the elbow instead of hanging by his side. There was anger there, not subtle or gently rolling. It was bubbling, simmering with anticipation.
Dark down there.
Tavv'ari squeezed in between the droplet formations, having to turn sideways to do so, and flicked on a light so that he could see. The light caught all the particulates in the air, but was still good enough to give Sol a dim view of the largest of the three shapes in there, and what lay below him.
On the ground, Tavv'ari's light picked out a rough helm with a t-like eye slit. Not quite the Mandalorian standard, but very like it. It rested atop armor pieces for the arms and legs, and other minor pieces that each trailed leather-like straps. "The helmet was what set the kid off," she offered, though the topic seemed to have moved well past that now.
As ever in the Red, colors were difficult to discern, and subtle tones impossible. Dust stained everything. But at least the size of the warrior was plain enough: taller than Jeryndi by a head or more, he was sheer muscle, but the Mandals had bound him up in what looked to be a battered flight harness or something like it, so that the arms were thoroughly pinioned behind him, and his ankles tight together. Even sleeping, the big humanoid looked fit and dangerous. He had a big head with a sleek bony ridge of a brow and a sharp chin. Growths like head tails floated aimlessly away from his skull. The skull had something that might have been hair, but it was hard to say since it was caked in clay or mud and pinched back in stiff rows.
Breis bit back his many questions, giving Solomon a moment to see the invader for himself.
Jujanaj Azair was silent also, puzzling over the strange story.
Jeryndi gave Solomon a mute nod of affirmation. He knew... If they woke up or be violent or incoherent, it'd be up to him to take care of it. To undo the damage that had been done... Jeryndi turned to go in the direction of the suspended humans. Medren stopped him and said, "I want to know what the Force feels like."
Jeryndi turned to look at his son. His demeanor shifted, though it was subtle. More stiff, a touch anxious. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because... This isn't the time or the place... The environment here is hostile. It is dying... And if you have even half of the talents I do, this is the worst possible place for you to actively touch the Force for the first time... I know you don't understand, but you've got to trust me on this."
The closer Solomon got, the more he could see. Even so, he managed to look back Medren's way with a low "Remember what I told about respecting your father." In Mando'a before giving the large bound being his full attention. Was this the same one? He took careful stock, looking for markings that may have been familiar on what the thing was wearing, and for all that he tried to remember this one just didn't have what he could bring up in his mind. That meant very little. It had been days since then, and they'd been traveling almost non-stop. The memory could certainly have become warped. Even so, he look Tavv'ari's way, and then back toward Breis and Azair with a shake of his head, "I don't think it’s the same one. The helmet is similar, and my memory of it is fuzzy -- but I don't think it’s the same."
"So what does that mean? You saw one in Keldabe, or you didn't?" Breis asked, trying to aim for the heart of what would be relevant. "Holo, ghost, whatever--you hooked into something. How?"
Medren shook his head... Attention shifted back to Breis. "I don't know much about it... All I know is what I saw. Whatever it was... It was filled with rage. It was in corporeal. And it was one of us.".
Jeryndi patted his son on the shoulder and turned to go towards the bodies of the humans... "Tavv'ari will you come with me?"
"It means," he said, still looking the large wrapped alien over, "That we saw one in Keldabe, but it wasn't in its physical state, and it wasn't this one. So the one we saw is still out there," he took one last look at the being before turning away, looking toward where Breis and Azair were standing, "As to how, that's a little more complicated to answer. I know it sounds like I'm dodging, and I am but only because I need time to figure out a way to explain it clearly to you."
Tavv, who held the light still, blinked and then shot Jeryndi a squint. "You got someplace to be?"
Breis observed that end of things and nearly missed Solomon's comment. "Is it that complicated?" he asked.
"I have some expertise when it comes to the study of esoteric principles and histories," Dr. Azair told Sol seriously. "Perhaps run the concept by me."
Jeryndi gestured for him to follow again... "I will need to make skin to skin contact... So. We've got to limit exposure as much as possible, I need someone to wrap my hand and him back up wherever I touch him... This is gonna take a while, I'm guessing."
"It can be," he told Breis before looking at Dr Azair, "And it’s not really esoteric in nature, or history based that I know of. How knowledgeable of the works of Sadhric Tlin are you?"
Again Tavv'ari looked to Breis and got a nod from him as he'd been half-listening there. "Sure," she finally said, hesitant but moving to join him. "Just tell me what you need...." Even though he just had. She just hadn't caught on well enough to have a solid picture of what she'd be doing. Just covering them so they could touch? If so... sure. She was on it.
With a curious look from Breis, Azair's black-eyed face seemed to both scrunch and gain a spark of intense intrigue simultaneously. "Not at all knowledgeable. But I know what most know of the Mekhetu, and the Praetorian War."
Thank The Force for that. He gave himself a moment for composure's sake, "It’s all technical," he told them, but essentially, it’s tied into the galaxy's communication grid, and that of individual systems. In this case, Mandalore's. That holo came from someone who knows that system exists. And if it didn't, it was triggered by that -thing- stumbling on to it. I still think it was a warning, and I'm basing that on how the holo was acting. If it was sent by someone, it would have been Tlin. If it was triggered, then those things found the ship he was in."
Jeryndi settled down onto the floor next to the farthest human... They were unmoving in their suspended state. The only movement that came was when he touched the body to unwrap the man's neck. He'd told Tavv'ari in hushed talk what to do-- it'd have to be quick, she unwrapped, he took off his glove, and as soon as contact was made, to wrap it back up again... This human didn't float far off the floor and Jeryndi settled back down onto his knees from where he was and bowed his head... In his other hand, he held his lightsaber loosely in his lap, ready to use if something were to happen... He'd told Tavv'ari that she could stand watch if she wanted, but to make sure Medren kept his distance...
It was slow, but had started as soon as he'd made skin to skin contact... It was a blossoming of power and presence in the Force. It was a sense of peace and calm that defined only him... He began with the basics: the largest organ of the human body-- the skin. He compared it to his own, looking for breaks in the skin, lesions, rashes, anything out of the ordinary... Needing to make sure the external was intact before moving further inward.
Breis had a gut reaction to people who started off with statements like It's all technical. Phrases like that made him listen harder, focus his onboard vakishit detector all the more keenly. By the time Sol seemed to be done, he was squinting, his left ear turned to catch every last syllable. "So you're saying Mandalore has a planetary grid, and that it's working even with this red shit everywhere, and that these fuckers are using it?" Mandalore was not Coruscant; it was not Tatooine, but Breis was highly skeptical about that on several levels. And something else bugged him, too.
Azair hadn't snagged early, but late. The big scholar said, "I don't understand how you draw this conclusion about Dr Tlin, or how you hypothesize from this situation that something was 'triggered.' Please explain."
Not far away, Jeryndi would find that the most dire ailment in the skin was dehydration right then. Which connected, perhaps, to other questions. But the human he focused on was not ill, not injured.
"No," he told Breis, "I'm suggesting that the ship I was in was still able to receive whatever was being sent over that system. That either Tlin knew where to send it, or that those beings accidentally found it. Remember, I said my ship is unique." He paused to shake his head, starting back toward Breis and Azair, "I'm not sure how it was still able to receive a signal while every other system was inoperable. I didn't spend too much time on figuring it out. We needed to get moving. The only thing I can think of," he told them both, "Is that the signal was either somehow sent by someone who knows the system -- which would be Dr. Tlin -- or that the creature we encountered in the holo had no idea what it had found. Regardless, I can't answer the question of "how was it possible" at this time. I've been thinking about it since we left my ship with that thing still wandering around inside it, and beyond my speculations I just don't know."
Jeryndi took note of the dehydration... And then delved deeper. This time he focused on the heart, blood circulation, and quality of said blood... To see if there was irregular heartbeat, strangeness to it, blood poisoning, something irregular about the brain function... If all was well, he'd move on to all the other vital organs.
No, but yes? Solomon's reply brought no enlightenment. Azair was silent. So was Breis Teimar for a moment, while he tried to sieve from this information anything that he could possibly use. Anything that all that provided any kind of advantage at all. The man felt like all that ash in the air was in his mouth, drying it out, deadening his nerves from the inside out. The one thing... "What did he mean--one of us?" Breis sought Medren's small figure. "What did you mean?"
Something was definitely wrong in the body that Jeryndi attempted to read. Or changed. Everything functioned, but slowly, like the workings of a body in suspended animation. Respiration and heartbeat were two bizarre exceptions: they were relaxed but only as much as they might be if Jeryndi himself were to nap. Blood flowed; air moved; but somehow there was a barrier suppressing other things. And the person was not braindead. The human Jeryndi inspected gave all signs of highly active dreaming.
He knew it wasn't helpful, and that it was anything but enlightening. Trying to answer questions without really answering them was always difficult. He wasn't his brother, and bluffing had never come second nature. And in a situation like this, how much was too much? The promise still stood, and would stand, even if he found that Dr. Sadhric Tlin had become one with The Force. Still, there was a part of him that wished he could say more. With that weighing on him there was some relief when Breis turned Medren's way. He went quiet, and began working on shoring himself back up. That little nerve needed to remain as protected as he could keep it.
Behind the helmet... Jeryndi's calm expression shifted a fraction towards a frown... Everything moved slow. It did not explain the floating effect, nor why they weren't waking... So before he would try to see if he could get the body's functions back to normal... Maybe he could take a peek inside this man's dreams... The highly active dream state definitely meant dreams were happening. The dream state of one's mind could often be revealing, but with unknown factors like the cause could potentially be dangerous. From where he was poised perfectly still on his knees, hand on the back of the man's neck, he murmured, "Before I try to wake him up, gonna take a peek at his dreams, Sol." It was a forewarning, that if he got 'lost', Sol could try to pull him back...
Before that, though, when addressed-- Medren took a few more steps towards Breis. "I mean... He talked like a vod. He spoke our language. He recognized the Akir clan name... He was... Rage personified. He was amazingly fast," he said, a tone of awe in his voice as he described it. "But it was so smooth, it looked like... Actual physical capability? Like actual skill."
Breis' frown dredged deep into days of frustration, fear, and loss. Trying to follow this stuff was making it worse. The man licked his lips and decided to respond indirectly: "These things... they're big, they're fast, and they're strong. I tangled with one near Tal-Keb--I wasn't alone and neither was she. One on one... they're tough. But tactically? What we saw was like watching kids playing at war. Unskilled, unschooled. We got it quick that we needed to engage them carefully, and once we started doing that... they'd show up trying to reach Tal-Keb, and we could break them and send them running. Like I said before: it was like it hadn't occurred to them that we could fight back."
"They rely on their height, and swiftness," Sol agreed, "What I saw on the Wayfinder was a being who was stomping around and knew what his own weight could do. It wasn't really skill -- only that he knew he could hurt us, and so that's what he wanted to do. Kept saying "softskins" and asking who we belonged to."
The picture presented had a lot of holes in it. Breis was desperate, thirst-mad for anything that could help him and the people with him, and while he knew that it was possible he just wasn't smart enough or educated enough to understand, he watched Solomon for any hint of deception. And why? They'd already announced with whom they were friends. For whom they had come. The man said, "My opinion of them comes from having danced with a few. Where did you come by yours if you couldn't engage?"
What was in a dream? Sometimes it was perspective. Sometimes they made no sense. Like Lissa and her dream about being Xena and killing the yellow alien xenomorphs in an ewok village... Sometimes they were subconscious. Telling them what their dormant mind knows or suspects to bring you what you need to know. Sometimes... They were elsewhere. Sometimes... They were in Between. Where you were with the Force, where you were with other spirits. Or when you saw other circumstances unfolding... Like Medren and his dream of Mandalore being in peril. While his son didn't remember the dream, the urgency and fear had definitely been real... Jeryndi had had many such dreams, too. Who could really say that they talked to the dead? The ghosts of passed loved ones? Nobody could really say that and be 100% convinced because it could be subconscious, telling you what you needed to hear in a roundabout way and from a person you trusted and missed.
And so his thoughts turned inward... If his body language had been relaxed before, it was more so now. His head drooped just a little more as he delved deeper.
It was all in the nerves. All in the heart. All in the brain... Or at least, that's what people said. Your brain was your moral center. Your heart was your heart. Some could argue there was no soul.... But that was not what Jeryndi believed. The soul was a real and living thing. It was like the Force-- It encompassed all of the body and mind and at the same time... Neither. Astral projection could be done by some. It was sending your mind and consciousness elsewhere. He'd never actively done it. Not like this...
So when he focused on the brain, he focused on himself. What he remembered of those dreams in Between. To go there himself... He *pushed*. And he *pulled*. He pushed himself towards the man... And pulled the man towards himself... Hoping to find some middle ground.
There was no hint of deception at all in the way Solomon was moving just then as he moved closer to where Jeryndi sat. The silent 'be careful' he wished for Jeryndi was edged into how closely he watched the floating body, and how close of an eye he kept on Jeryndi himself. His words, though. They carried back toward Breis and Azair, "We didn't fight physically, but it wanted our blood bad enough that had we been present together in the same room it wouldn't have taken much for those quick claws to draw blood. From what I remember, it was quick but without aim and swung because it could. It looked to me like the strikes it wanted to land were impulsive. It got pretty upset and even more violent when nothing it did affected us."
"It had aim," he said softly. He was standing with Dr. Azair and Breis because he'd been told not to go near his father... "It would've taken my head off. Ava's eyes. It would've hit -You- in the chest. As strong as it appeared to be, had that been real and any of those blows connected, we'd all be dead."
"It was -savage-... But it had -aim-."
Breis stood gazing at Medren out of the corner of his eye. Then he looked around, from figure to figure. "Too many of us up here," he muttered after a quick assessment. Which meant Not enough on watch below. The man nodded to himself and stood straighter: "Doc, you mind sticking around up here with them? --Ra'aqi: get down and get some rest; I'll have Narion take over for the doc up here if nothing's happened. Adiik: come below with me. Got a job for you while your buir is...." Failure to find a good word ended in a helpless gesture toward Jeryndi and Sol, Tavv'ari and the dreamer. "... that."
"Paka," Medren said softly. "He is Paka to me.". He, in this instance was Jeryndi... Buir was not what he called his father. That title was reserved for Kel'dan. Paka, where had that pronoun come from? Who knew. But it meant father, wherever it came from... Over their period of rest, Medren had done some hard thinking... It had struck a chord with him about being told about the Resol'nare. It was true-- Jeryndi hadn't spoken falsely. He'd never forbidden his son or commanded that he abandon the Mandal ways. The Resol'nare. His lifestyle... He had simply restricted carrying weapons and not claiming a specific name. He'd never said he couldn't continue to live as he had before. He had a different caretaker. He lived on a ship now... And how had he gotten it into his head that he was dar'manda? No. He wasn't... He took a step closer to Breis. "Of course, sir." he said to the commander... And in that moment, he really didn't care what Solomon thought. He'd promised to shoot Jeryndi if he let Medren out of his sight. But here, Breis was in command. And he needed to fall in line... They'd not let harm come to the ad'iik in their midst. And it was better to be useful than to sit there and watch his Paka do... -that-. He turned to give Solomon a small salute. "I'll go with them. Make myself useful... Watch over Paka for me."
"Mind your footing," was all Solomon had to say on the matter. He did give a look Breis' way, and then an eye toward Azair. There was a heartbeat here, and he felt it quicken. Just a little push, just a little quickening. It was a little feeling in the back of his head, one he'd felt many times before. It told him to go, to move before it was too late. It beat and begged for him to leave before any he made any more mistakes.
Jujanaj Azair moved closer to the stone formations that yawned apart to create the upward-turned cave mouth. He peered in, and who could say what his black eyes saw.
Ra'aqi, Breis Teimar, and Medren disappeared down the tiny trail.
The bark cut through anything that Solomon or Dr Azair might have said in reply to Breis, but it took a moment for the woman who'd shouted it to become visible.
In that moment, Breis Teimar snapped up the weapon he'd leaned next to Renda and automatically held it as if he might need it. Renda jolted upright, pushing against the rock behind him, making to get up. Azair crossed the distance between him and the man in one stride, thanks to his extra-long legs, and put a hand on Renda's arm that could be read as a sign for Renda to wait or, in a flash, as a grip ready to hoist the injured man to his feet to help him stand.
The warrior who emerged through a splash of rock and around the opposite side of the area was better-outfitted than most of the Mandals. She must have been armored when the impact swamped the area.
Without being asked, she reported: "Kid recognized something about the big guy. Said a bunch of vakishit I don't understand."
-Need you up top!- Solomon's head snapped in the direction of the sound, and just as quickly as Breis reached for his weapon, Sol's left hand fell to where his own was non-existant. Also in that moment, Sol made an attempt to push himself up. It was a clumsy effort, but soon turned more smooth when his left hand closed around nothing, and was then swiftly diverted to helping him rise. It hit him, then, the memory of where his blaster had gone. The damn theif... He'd have to find a way to remedy that soon. "What did he say?"
The warrior's explanation got Azair to relax a fraction, and he murmured to Renda: "Stay here."
The woman flicked a look at Solomon, then eyed Breis again, already backing up to turn and lead them out and around from that part of the cave. It wasn't the same path up that Jeryndi and Medren had taken with their guide, but it amounted to the same thing: a small footpath of glossy, filthy rock that hugged the larger cave entrance but led up to a level just above.
Breis was right behind the woman; Azair would wait for Solomon if he was going, and then take up the rear.
The Red kept the view from being grand, and grit made footing iffy, while dust obscured the details. So the only interesting thing to see was once they were above, where a smaller version of the cavemouth below opened skyward like a bubble caught mid-burst. It seemed rimmed by bar-like formations that might in another context have been stalactites and stalagmites, but here looked more like drips being flung outward when the bubble popped, and frozen in place.
When they got there, they'd find Jeryndi and Medren standing together... Jeryndi had one hand on his son's shoulder, the other resting at his side. They were standing closer to the area's entrance than they were towards the suspended bodies. They stood with Tavv'ari.
It was concern that got his feet moving as he fell into step behind Breis. He had a suspicion, one that was curling up his spine with cold little fingers. It was a suspicion he hoped wasn't right. There was a small split second on the way up where Sol felt his covered boots slip just a bit against the grit, causing him to reach out his gloved left hand against the rocky walls around them to keep himself steady as they passed through. When they reached the top, and it opened into the area they found themselves, he first looked toward Jeryndi and Medren with a nod toward his nephew, "Is he alright?" He asked Jer, and waited just long enough for the answer before looking around the space. Maybe under other circumstances such a formation could have been considered magnificent. With The Red swirling, a planet dying, and an enemy lurking its beauty was lost.
Tavv'ari was the small Mandal who had been maskless when they'd arrived, and who had promptly availed herself of one of their envirosuits. She stood waiting for the others with puzzled tension. Ra'aqi stepped aside, too. Breis eyed Medren expectantly.
In the little bubble-cave, beyond the father and son and the Mandalorian, were three figures that might have been floating, one bigger than the other two. They were hard to make out in the shadows.
But Breis wasn't the one that Medren walked up to... It was Solomon. He turned and pointed to the invader that was floating... "It's him," he told his uncle. "The ghost from the Wayfinder."
When Medren walked up to him, Sol looked down at the boy. His shoulders pulled back as he took that in, and then looked in the direction of where the boy was pointing, "You're sure?" He asked, even as he was laying his left hand on Medren's shoulder and then starting that direction to see for himself.
"Ghost?" Breis asked. "Wayfinder? --Stop, ad'ika (kid)."
"Yes, I'm sure," he told Solomon. He looked to Breis, shaking his head. "I think Solomon can explain it better than I can... But all 3 of us saw it. It was a phantom of some kind. It was dressed like a Mandal. It spoke our language. It kept attacking us, but didn't ever connect. Wafted right through us. It didn't know where it was."
That explanation was...an interesting take on it, Sol thought. He paused to look Breis' way, "The Wayfinder is my ship. We were on it before we set out from Keldabe. The 'ghost' was actually a holoprojection. It appeared in the lounge of the ship, and attacked. Being a holo it had no effect on any of us, which is a good thing. Neither Ava, the boy, or myself would be here talking to you if it had been flesh and blood."
Breis' brow was drawn tight again. "A holo from where? They can comm out?" Because obviously his people couldn't.
But he was moving again, this time to encourage Solomon to see for himself so that he could back up to dismiss this and get on with explaining.
"That's not *entirely* true," Medren said, looking back to Sol. "It connected with the walls of the ship." Jeryndi walked forward to put a hand on Medren's shoulder. "I was about to see what I could do for the Dreamers," he explained to Sol.
Medren had once again pulled his attention. He had to stop himself from replying immediately. It wasn't Medren's fault. The boy didn't understand just how sensitive and confusing those details could be, or just how hard it was going to make Sol's explanation. If he wasn't wearing a hood with a filter on it for the sake of his health, Sol would have rubbed a hand across his stubble chin before answering. "I think the transmission was an accident, or a perhaps a warning of some kind. The Wayfinder is a...a unique ship." He looked toward his cousin for a moment, just a brief one, and weighed his words out, "It was constructed to suit me as a slicer, and so has some strange attributes. However my ship intercepted that message while being unable to fly, I'm not sure just yet. But whoever sent it, IF this is the same being -- we need to find them soon." He was then turning back, and making his way toward the sleepers. "Jeryndi, if you wake it, you're going to have to be ready to either kill it or put it under again." As he moved, Sol placed his left hand against his right arm, bringing it tight against his body, holding his forearm so it was bent at the elbow instead of hanging by his side. There was anger there, not subtle or gently rolling. It was bubbling, simmering with anticipation.
Dark down there.
Tavv'ari squeezed in between the droplet formations, having to turn sideways to do so, and flicked on a light so that he could see. The light caught all the particulates in the air, but was still good enough to give Sol a dim view of the largest of the three shapes in there, and what lay below him.
On the ground, Tavv'ari's light picked out a rough helm with a t-like eye slit. Not quite the Mandalorian standard, but very like it. It rested atop armor pieces for the arms and legs, and other minor pieces that each trailed leather-like straps. "The helmet was what set the kid off," she offered, though the topic seemed to have moved well past that now.
As ever in the Red, colors were difficult to discern, and subtle tones impossible. Dust stained everything. But at least the size of the warrior was plain enough: taller than Jeryndi by a head or more, he was sheer muscle, but the Mandals had bound him up in what looked to be a battered flight harness or something like it, so that the arms were thoroughly pinioned behind him, and his ankles tight together. Even sleeping, the big humanoid looked fit and dangerous. He had a big head with a sleek bony ridge of a brow and a sharp chin. Growths like head tails floated aimlessly away from his skull. The skull had something that might have been hair, but it was hard to say since it was caked in clay or mud and pinched back in stiff rows.
Breis bit back his many questions, giving Solomon a moment to see the invader for himself.
Jujanaj Azair was silent also, puzzling over the strange story.
Jeryndi gave Solomon a mute nod of affirmation. He knew... If they woke up or be violent or incoherent, it'd be up to him to take care of it. To undo the damage that had been done... Jeryndi turned to go in the direction of the suspended humans. Medren stopped him and said, "I want to know what the Force feels like."
Jeryndi turned to look at his son. His demeanor shifted, though it was subtle. More stiff, a touch anxious. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because... This isn't the time or the place... The environment here is hostile. It is dying... And if you have even half of the talents I do, this is the worst possible place for you to actively touch the Force for the first time... I know you don't understand, but you've got to trust me on this."
The closer Solomon got, the more he could see. Even so, he managed to look back Medren's way with a low "Remember what I told about respecting your father." In Mando'a before giving the large bound being his full attention. Was this the same one? He took careful stock, looking for markings that may have been familiar on what the thing was wearing, and for all that he tried to remember this one just didn't have what he could bring up in his mind. That meant very little. It had been days since then, and they'd been traveling almost non-stop. The memory could certainly have become warped. Even so, he look Tavv'ari's way, and then back toward Breis and Azair with a shake of his head, "I don't think it’s the same one. The helmet is similar, and my memory of it is fuzzy -- but I don't think it’s the same."
"So what does that mean? You saw one in Keldabe, or you didn't?" Breis asked, trying to aim for the heart of what would be relevant. "Holo, ghost, whatever--you hooked into something. How?"
Medren shook his head... Attention shifted back to Breis. "I don't know much about it... All I know is what I saw. Whatever it was... It was filled with rage. It was in corporeal. And it was one of us.".
Jeryndi patted his son on the shoulder and turned to go towards the bodies of the humans... "Tavv'ari will you come with me?"
"It means," he said, still looking the large wrapped alien over, "That we saw one in Keldabe, but it wasn't in its physical state, and it wasn't this one. So the one we saw is still out there," he took one last look at the being before turning away, looking toward where Breis and Azair were standing, "As to how, that's a little more complicated to answer. I know it sounds like I'm dodging, and I am but only because I need time to figure out a way to explain it clearly to you."
Tavv, who held the light still, blinked and then shot Jeryndi a squint. "You got someplace to be?"
Breis observed that end of things and nearly missed Solomon's comment. "Is it that complicated?" he asked.
"I have some expertise when it comes to the study of esoteric principles and histories," Dr. Azair told Sol seriously. "Perhaps run the concept by me."
Jeryndi gestured for him to follow again... "I will need to make skin to skin contact... So. We've got to limit exposure as much as possible, I need someone to wrap my hand and him back up wherever I touch him... This is gonna take a while, I'm guessing."
"It can be," he told Breis before looking at Dr Azair, "And it’s not really esoteric in nature, or history based that I know of. How knowledgeable of the works of Sadhric Tlin are you?"
Again Tavv'ari looked to Breis and got a nod from him as he'd been half-listening there. "Sure," she finally said, hesitant but moving to join him. "Just tell me what you need...." Even though he just had. She just hadn't caught on well enough to have a solid picture of what she'd be doing. Just covering them so they could touch? If so... sure. She was on it.
With a curious look from Breis, Azair's black-eyed face seemed to both scrunch and gain a spark of intense intrigue simultaneously. "Not at all knowledgeable. But I know what most know of the Mekhetu, and the Praetorian War."
Thank The Force for that. He gave himself a moment for composure's sake, "It’s all technical," he told them, but essentially, it’s tied into the galaxy's communication grid, and that of individual systems. In this case, Mandalore's. That holo came from someone who knows that system exists. And if it didn't, it was triggered by that -thing- stumbling on to it. I still think it was a warning, and I'm basing that on how the holo was acting. If it was sent by someone, it would have been Tlin. If it was triggered, then those things found the ship he was in."
Jeryndi settled down onto the floor next to the farthest human... They were unmoving in their suspended state. The only movement that came was when he touched the body to unwrap the man's neck. He'd told Tavv'ari in hushed talk what to do-- it'd have to be quick, she unwrapped, he took off his glove, and as soon as contact was made, to wrap it back up again... This human didn't float far off the floor and Jeryndi settled back down onto his knees from where he was and bowed his head... In his other hand, he held his lightsaber loosely in his lap, ready to use if something were to happen... He'd told Tavv'ari that she could stand watch if she wanted, but to make sure Medren kept his distance...
It was slow, but had started as soon as he'd made skin to skin contact... It was a blossoming of power and presence in the Force. It was a sense of peace and calm that defined only him... He began with the basics: the largest organ of the human body-- the skin. He compared it to his own, looking for breaks in the skin, lesions, rashes, anything out of the ordinary... Needing to make sure the external was intact before moving further inward.
Breis had a gut reaction to people who started off with statements like It's all technical. Phrases like that made him listen harder, focus his onboard vakishit detector all the more keenly. By the time Sol seemed to be done, he was squinting, his left ear turned to catch every last syllable. "So you're saying Mandalore has a planetary grid, and that it's working even with this red shit everywhere, and that these fuckers are using it?" Mandalore was not Coruscant; it was not Tatooine, but Breis was highly skeptical about that on several levels. And something else bugged him, too.
Azair hadn't snagged early, but late. The big scholar said, "I don't understand how you draw this conclusion about Dr Tlin, or how you hypothesize from this situation that something was 'triggered.' Please explain."
Not far away, Jeryndi would find that the most dire ailment in the skin was dehydration right then. Which connected, perhaps, to other questions. But the human he focused on was not ill, not injured.
"No," he told Breis, "I'm suggesting that the ship I was in was still able to receive whatever was being sent over that system. That either Tlin knew where to send it, or that those beings accidentally found it. Remember, I said my ship is unique." He paused to shake his head, starting back toward Breis and Azair, "I'm not sure how it was still able to receive a signal while every other system was inoperable. I didn't spend too much time on figuring it out. We needed to get moving. The only thing I can think of," he told them both, "Is that the signal was either somehow sent by someone who knows the system -- which would be Dr. Tlin -- or that the creature we encountered in the holo had no idea what it had found. Regardless, I can't answer the question of "how was it possible" at this time. I've been thinking about it since we left my ship with that thing still wandering around inside it, and beyond my speculations I just don't know."
Jeryndi took note of the dehydration... And then delved deeper. This time he focused on the heart, blood circulation, and quality of said blood... To see if there was irregular heartbeat, strangeness to it, blood poisoning, something irregular about the brain function... If all was well, he'd move on to all the other vital organs.
No, but yes? Solomon's reply brought no enlightenment. Azair was silent. So was Breis Teimar for a moment, while he tried to sieve from this information anything that he could possibly use. Anything that all that provided any kind of advantage at all. The man felt like all that ash in the air was in his mouth, drying it out, deadening his nerves from the inside out. The one thing... "What did he mean--one of us?" Breis sought Medren's small figure. "What did you mean?"
Something was definitely wrong in the body that Jeryndi attempted to read. Or changed. Everything functioned, but slowly, like the workings of a body in suspended animation. Respiration and heartbeat were two bizarre exceptions: they were relaxed but only as much as they might be if Jeryndi himself were to nap. Blood flowed; air moved; but somehow there was a barrier suppressing other things. And the person was not braindead. The human Jeryndi inspected gave all signs of highly active dreaming.
He knew it wasn't helpful, and that it was anything but enlightening. Trying to answer questions without really answering them was always difficult. He wasn't his brother, and bluffing had never come second nature. And in a situation like this, how much was too much? The promise still stood, and would stand, even if he found that Dr. Sadhric Tlin had become one with The Force. Still, there was a part of him that wished he could say more. With that weighing on him there was some relief when Breis turned Medren's way. He went quiet, and began working on shoring himself back up. That little nerve needed to remain as protected as he could keep it.
Behind the helmet... Jeryndi's calm expression shifted a fraction towards a frown... Everything moved slow. It did not explain the floating effect, nor why they weren't waking... So before he would try to see if he could get the body's functions back to normal... Maybe he could take a peek inside this man's dreams... The highly active dream state definitely meant dreams were happening. The dream state of one's mind could often be revealing, but with unknown factors like the cause could potentially be dangerous. From where he was poised perfectly still on his knees, hand on the back of the man's neck, he murmured, "Before I try to wake him up, gonna take a peek at his dreams, Sol." It was a forewarning, that if he got 'lost', Sol could try to pull him back...
Before that, though, when addressed-- Medren took a few more steps towards Breis. "I mean... He talked like a vod. He spoke our language. He recognized the Akir clan name... He was... Rage personified. He was amazingly fast," he said, a tone of awe in his voice as he described it. "But it was so smooth, it looked like... Actual physical capability? Like actual skill."
Breis' frown dredged deep into days of frustration, fear, and loss. Trying to follow this stuff was making it worse. The man licked his lips and decided to respond indirectly: "These things... they're big, they're fast, and they're strong. I tangled with one near Tal-Keb--I wasn't alone and neither was she. One on one... they're tough. But tactically? What we saw was like watching kids playing at war. Unskilled, unschooled. We got it quick that we needed to engage them carefully, and once we started doing that... they'd show up trying to reach Tal-Keb, and we could break them and send them running. Like I said before: it was like it hadn't occurred to them that we could fight back."
"They rely on their height, and swiftness," Sol agreed, "What I saw on the Wayfinder was a being who was stomping around and knew what his own weight could do. It wasn't really skill -- only that he knew he could hurt us, and so that's what he wanted to do. Kept saying "softskins" and asking who we belonged to."
The picture presented had a lot of holes in it. Breis was desperate, thirst-mad for anything that could help him and the people with him, and while he knew that it was possible he just wasn't smart enough or educated enough to understand, he watched Solomon for any hint of deception. And why? They'd already announced with whom they were friends. For whom they had come. The man said, "My opinion of them comes from having danced with a few. Where did you come by yours if you couldn't engage?"
What was in a dream? Sometimes it was perspective. Sometimes they made no sense. Like Lissa and her dream about being Xena and killing the yellow alien xenomorphs in an ewok village... Sometimes they were subconscious. Telling them what their dormant mind knows or suspects to bring you what you need to know. Sometimes... They were elsewhere. Sometimes... They were in Between. Where you were with the Force, where you were with other spirits. Or when you saw other circumstances unfolding... Like Medren and his dream of Mandalore being in peril. While his son didn't remember the dream, the urgency and fear had definitely been real... Jeryndi had had many such dreams, too. Who could really say that they talked to the dead? The ghosts of passed loved ones? Nobody could really say that and be 100% convinced because it could be subconscious, telling you what you needed to hear in a roundabout way and from a person you trusted and missed.
And so his thoughts turned inward... If his body language had been relaxed before, it was more so now. His head drooped just a little more as he delved deeper.
It was all in the nerves. All in the heart. All in the brain... Or at least, that's what people said. Your brain was your moral center. Your heart was your heart. Some could argue there was no soul.... But that was not what Jeryndi believed. The soul was a real and living thing. It was like the Force-- It encompassed all of the body and mind and at the same time... Neither. Astral projection could be done by some. It was sending your mind and consciousness elsewhere. He'd never actively done it. Not like this...
So when he focused on the brain, he focused on himself. What he remembered of those dreams in Between. To go there himself... He *pushed*. And he *pulled*. He pushed himself towards the man... And pulled the man towards himself... Hoping to find some middle ground.
There was no hint of deception at all in the way Solomon was moving just then as he moved closer to where Jeryndi sat. The silent 'be careful' he wished for Jeryndi was edged into how closely he watched the floating body, and how close of an eye he kept on Jeryndi himself. His words, though. They carried back toward Breis and Azair, "We didn't fight physically, but it wanted our blood bad enough that had we been present together in the same room it wouldn't have taken much for those quick claws to draw blood. From what I remember, it was quick but without aim and swung because it could. It looked to me like the strikes it wanted to land were impulsive. It got pretty upset and even more violent when nothing it did affected us."
"It had aim," he said softly. He was standing with Dr. Azair and Breis because he'd been told not to go near his father... "It would've taken my head off. Ava's eyes. It would've hit -You- in the chest. As strong as it appeared to be, had that been real and any of those blows connected, we'd all be dead."
"It was -savage-... But it had -aim-."
Breis stood gazing at Medren out of the corner of his eye. Then he looked around, from figure to figure. "Too many of us up here," he muttered after a quick assessment. Which meant Not enough on watch below. The man nodded to himself and stood straighter: "Doc, you mind sticking around up here with them? --Ra'aqi: get down and get some rest; I'll have Narion take over for the doc up here if nothing's happened. Adiik: come below with me. Got a job for you while your buir is...." Failure to find a good word ended in a helpless gesture toward Jeryndi and Sol, Tavv'ari and the dreamer. "... that."
"Paka," Medren said softly. "He is Paka to me.". He, in this instance was Jeryndi... Buir was not what he called his father. That title was reserved for Kel'dan. Paka, where had that pronoun come from? Who knew. But it meant father, wherever it came from... Over their period of rest, Medren had done some hard thinking... It had struck a chord with him about being told about the Resol'nare. It was true-- Jeryndi hadn't spoken falsely. He'd never forbidden his son or commanded that he abandon the Mandal ways. The Resol'nare. His lifestyle... He had simply restricted carrying weapons and not claiming a specific name. He'd never said he couldn't continue to live as he had before. He had a different caretaker. He lived on a ship now... And how had he gotten it into his head that he was dar'manda? No. He wasn't... He took a step closer to Breis. "Of course, sir." he said to the commander... And in that moment, he really didn't care what Solomon thought. He'd promised to shoot Jeryndi if he let Medren out of his sight. But here, Breis was in command. And he needed to fall in line... They'd not let harm come to the ad'iik in their midst. And it was better to be useful than to sit there and watch his Paka do... -that-. He turned to give Solomon a small salute. "I'll go with them. Make myself useful... Watch over Paka for me."
"Mind your footing," was all Solomon had to say on the matter. He did give a look Breis' way, and then an eye toward Azair. There was a heartbeat here, and he felt it quicken. Just a little push, just a little quickening. It was a little feeling in the back of his head, one he'd felt many times before. It told him to go, to move before it was too late. It beat and begged for him to leave before any he made any more mistakes.
Jujanaj Azair moved closer to the stone formations that yawned apart to create the upward-turned cave mouth. He peered in, and who could say what his black eyes saw.
Ra'aqi, Breis Teimar, and Medren disappeared down the tiny trail.