Star Wars Saga: A Jedi Ghost Story - IC

[Liliedhe]

A Jedi Ghost Story

Seeing is believing. Feeling is knowing.

Prologue: Netherworld

Neera felt the wind on her face, biting through the cloth mask protecting it. She was struggling to stay upright, and despite her enhanced vision, struggling to see anything in the darkness and the storm. On clear nights, the dark side of Dretha sparkled in the light of millions of stars reflecting them in the ice crystals that covered the planets rocky surface. If there was a storm, the planet was darker than the backside of rancor. And if a storm surprised in the outlands, away from the settlements, you were dead. Deader than a snowman on Mustafar to be precise. After struggling against the wind, and searching for shelter on the flatlands south of the Taka plateau for hours, the Zabrak was too exhausted to care about the fact that she was going to die.

Her tiny camp was probably already buried, or she had missed it in the confusion. Every step was a fight now, and only her species’ indomitable will kept her going yet. She did not believe in miracles, and as she collapsed and was covered in snow within seconds, she knew she would not get any.

The scout was right, her body frozen like an icicle mere minutes after she had finally succumbed to the cold. But, she was not alone, as she discovered when her spirit began to drift into the Force. Her consciousness faded, her identity dissolved – until something grabbed her hand. You won’t go yet.

Not startled, since that was a physical reaction and thus something she was no longer capable of, but surprised, she watched as her hand began to regain form, followed by her arm, and the rest of her body. She was translucent now, giving off a faint blue glow, it seemed. A ghost. Then, her gaze strayed to the hand that had grabbed hers and made her Neera again, and she saw it belonged to another spirit being, shrouded in a dark robe, and its face hidden. She thought the voice that had commanded her was female, but she wasn’t sure.

You have seen the caves. When they come, you will show them. It is necessary. If you want to, I will unmake you again after that.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +

Chapter One: Frozen junk of rock

When you are stuck on a frozen junk of rock, in the perpetual darkness and cold of a polar night, and when venturing out is a game of chance slightly more hazardous than a game of Sabacc against a hungry Sarlacc, then most people will try to get what comforts they can by staying at home. And they will talk. Sip a hot drink, sit around the heater and tell stories, whenever their duties permit it.

And inevitably, these will be stories of the cold outdoors, of miraculous treasures discovered there, or of the vengeful ghosts of those who disappeared out there and who now seek to ease their cold torment with the warm blood of the living. Occasionally, someone will wistfully remember someone he knew who disappeared in one of the sudden killer storms, or tell of the things that move in the shadows in the corner of your eye. Are and Lesa, the twilek siblings who are the owners of the tiny Cantina/Flophouse, will remember their glory days, back when the excavations for the Republic were still being funded and the expeditions had Jedi, who would know when it was save to go out, and when better to stay in camp. Of course, this will be told only in a hushed voice, with careful gazes in the direction of the Imperial, Netta, and the stranger, Akaine.

It is a cold world. A lonely one. Where things move in the corner of your eye when you do not look. Where it is not unusual to feel watched when walking the icy wastes. Inevitably, one of the hunters will come in and tell that they saw a ghost out there…

Like the Zabrak scout who disappeared three years ago while looking for a supposed ancient settlement on the plains south of the Taka plateau, where the village squats. Maybe, the sightings of her are too frequent to be dismissed. Or maybe they aren’t. But if there it is not a story, if those who claimed to see her really saw her, then she is getting closer…

Spoiler

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Welcome aboard all, have fun.
I hope you are not afraid of ghosts.... *evil laugh*

Cast of Characters:
Sshran/Ascension
Akaine Nabross/Ridai
Netta Kynes/The Snark

OOC:
http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=96425

[Ascension]

A tall figure, shrouded in fur which is, in turn, covered in snow, staggers into the cantina. To any familiar with them the figure might appear to be a misshapen Wookiee... until it throws back its hood to reveal distinctly reptilian features.

"Crassh. Sship, crassh. Cold," Sshran hisses, and then he collapses on the floor in a heap of scales and fur and snow.

[Liliedhe]

"What the..."

Lesa, the orange twilek Barmaid (and cook, and maid, and cleaning woman, and...) runs forward to the reptilian creature and turns him over. When he does not react, she pokes him with a long fingernail.

"I suppose that one's dead, right? Then his stuff is ours, since this is our house. Scavenger rules, you know?" She addresses the crowd, while she starts to go through his pockets...

[Ascension]

Though he does not stir at the initial poke, further probing causes him to stir. He wraps a clawed hand in a vicegrip around the Twi'lek's greedy paw.

"Not dead... Need heat... Will pay..."

[Liliedhe]

The Twi'lek mumbles something that might be understood as "Pity", but then she's all business, and helps the Trandoshan over to the heating unit, where he can sit down and thaw out.

She puts steaming mug in front of him that smells quite awkward, but at least is hot.

[Ascension]

He drinks, paying no heed to the aroma or taste of the liquid. It is heat, it is life, that is all that matters.

[Ridai]

The cantina door opens, another burst of cold air rushing into the room, and is quickly closed by a tall, thin young man, dressed in robust if well-worn black clothing. "G'day. Thought I saw someone dressed like a wookiee come in here. Boy, that kind of fur must come in mighty handy on this side of the planet."

Akaine pulls back the heavy hood of his thick overcoat, revealing his short vibrantly red hair, takes off his snow-coated goggles and heavy duty gloves which he attaches to his toolbelt. When he sees the Trandoshan, a slight smile appeared on his nice-looking face. "Guess my brain still works. But it couldn't flow out anyway because of the cold." Taking a seat at the bar, Akaine orders something warm to drink (preferably with good taste, but you can't have everything), having finished repairs on a malfunctioning heater minutes ago.

[Ascension]

As the warmth increases his metabolic rate, Sshran begins to feel like moving again.

>>Does anyone here speak my language?<< he asks aloud in Dosh.

[The_Snark]

Sttt

The computer was playing static again. The first time the monitor gave the incoming-message notification, Netta had been a little excited, thinking she had an incoming message to deliver. The news (delivered first by the incomprehensible static-filled message and confirmed by Jorrf) that it was nothing more than the old receiver's filters failing and causing it to interpret background radiation and echoes off local transmissions as comm messages had been a little disappointing. The realization that this would happen again and again had been irritating.

Supposedly, the dark side of Dretha had been chosen (she had had a great deal of time to look into this) as the location for the message station specifically because it would minimize the background radiation. If that was true, Netta didn't want to think about how long it had been since the relay station had been properly maintained. Certainly more than the regulation two years.

She deletes the supposed message notice, and goes back to sitting in her chair, wrapped in a heavy blanket. She had fond memories of sitting in front of the heater during winter nights, back home. But she'd been doing that for weeks on end. Since it looked like she would be stationed here for a while yet, and neither night nor winter ever ended here, she didn't know when she would be able to stop.

Although she is technically on duty until Jorrf arrives, Netta decides she needs to get out. The station had managed fine before she got here with only one person to watch it, and she was fairly sure her assistant hadn't been as assiduous about his duties as she was. She can't get away from the darkness or the cold, but she can at least get to a warmer building, one with company and noises aside from the wind.

She puts on a heavy winter coat over her uniform, and then a thinner, windproof overcoat. Both of them are cold from hanging on the walls, and at first it feels like she'd be better off without them. They'll warm up, though; and once she leaves the relative warmth of the relay station, she is thankful for the insulation.

The little cantina is really the only place for her to go, and happily it isn't far. She takes a gloved hand out of her jacket pocket just long enough to open the door, and escapes into the building, hurrying over to take a seat near the heating unit.

[Liliedhe]

As Netta walks through the snow - looks like another storm is coming - the light coming from the few houses that actually sport windows makes the snow sparkle and paints strange shapes on the ground. Just as she is about to enter the cantina, movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention... But when she looks, there is nothing there. Only her long, narrow shadow, cast by the light streaming out of the door.

She follows her shadow inside...

[Ridai]

"What?", Akaine asks the Trandoshan when the latter seems to ask something in Dosh (Akaine can identify it, but that's about it). When he sees Netta enter, who he had seen and heard of around this place a few times, he asks "How's it going?" and takes a sip from his hot drink, paying for it in the process. The drifter asks partly to gauge how much Imperial indoctrination has gotten to her and if it endures being on this backwater planet, now that she is there in person in the cantina.

[Battlecat]

Another gust of icy wind haunts the cantina when the door opens shortly after Nettas arrival, revealing a stocky young woman who, after closing the door and peeling herself out of her coat, takes a seat in a less frequented corner and orders a mug of tea.

[Ascension]

"Just trying to ssee if anyone spoke the language," Sshran explains, "No ssuch luck."

He turns around and addresses the occupants of the cantina as a whole.

"Is there any good hunting around here? Any beasstss worthy of my attention?"

[The_Snark]

Netta looks up at the man addressing her, someone she doesn't quite recognize. That wasn't unusual; a lot of the natives seemed withdrawn. Except this one, apparently. She can't help but be relieved—most of the natives kept their distance from the only off-world officer in the town. If there had been one feasible change she could have wished for in Dretha, it would have been more Imperial employees, both so that she wouldn't be alone and so that the natives were more used to them. "Fine. Thanks," she says, smiling at the red-haired man. "Ah, I don't think I've met you yet?"

She glances a couple times at the reptilian alien nearby as he asks his questions, but then she's been looking over at him every minute or so since she realized the Trandoshan was there. To someone as unused to being around most aliens as Netta, he was exotic and a little fascinating. She waits to see if any of the town's natives will answer the question; they have a lifetime more experience with the local wildlife than she does, she tells herself. It wasn't shyness.

[Liliedhe]

The barmaid brings the drinks, and then stops at the Trandosshan's table, cocking her head to the side.

"Hunting? No, not here. On the dayside, there's beasts, but here, there is only ice."

"Not true", another guest, a broad shouldered human with only one eye, interjects. "There's the lights. But you can't mount them on a wall. And, the dead who walk. But they are probably not pretty. Or you could find the fortress that roams the wastes. And whatever lives on that."

The other guest shake their heads. "Shut up, Dunvar. Nobody wants to hear your old wives tales, really..." The Barmaid deftly sidessteps the grasping fingers of an odd guest huddled in furs, and disappears behind the bar. "Don't listen to Dunvar, that's all just ... hot air."

[Ascension]

Sshran stands and walks over to Dunvar. Meltwater and slush fall freely from his cloak as he moves.

"The Scorekeeper Above recognizess a ssuccessful hunt even if no trophy is recovered. Tell me more of these thingss. Perhapss they would prove an interesting prey."

[Liliedhe]

"Sure." He gestures for the Barmaid to refill his cup, and then starts to explain:

"While this planet has always been such a weird thing, with a side that cooks you and one that freezes your ... anatomy off, it wasn't always dead. A few thousand years ago, there were two civilizations here, one on every side. Whether they were native or not, that's up for guesses, but they were at war, most of the time. And in the end, they killed each other off. Both of them lived underground, or at least the smart people figured it that way."

He takes a deep swallow from his steaming tankard and continues:

"What you find on the surface, that are their graves and their battlefields. Nobody ever found any villages, or cities. So, this whole planet is just a huge graveyard... Many think that's where the weird things come from. There are more stories about the nightside, maybe because it's more dangerous. Stories about people who come about ghostly lights in the middle of storms, that lead them for miles, and then drain them of their lives. You can find them, sometimes, with their hands around their own throats..."

The man gets drawn into his own story, and fixes the Trandoshan intently, while the cantina goes silent. It seems - old wives' tales or not - everybody is listening now...

"As for the walking dead... Well, they are younger, not the old foes, but those who came here to find what they had left. When you are out there, and it gets so cold that your blaster freezes, and there are icicles hanging from your breather, sometimes there are suddenly footsteps in the snow, and shadows where they have no business being. If you are smart, you just did yourself in then. If you don't, first the shadows come, and freeze your heart. And then, dead things walk. Don't laugh, I've seen them. They are human or what's left of them... They have no heads, or no arms, and they just walk through the snow, without mind, but driven by something. The shadows, I think. They don't attack you... but they are cold. So cold the snow seems warm and what they touch just splinters like it's glass. I've seen people frozen in place after they walked past. Can they be destroyed? I don't know. I never tried."

[Ridai]

I've found a nice Imperial, what are the odds?
"I'm Akaine. Been here for a short time and help around town with repairs and what have you. Saw you around here sometimes, but never caught your name.", the young man answers with a smile, out-and-easy-going as he is.

When Druvar tells his story, Akaine listens intently, sipping from his drink while he does that. He remains silent after Druvar ends for a short time and then says, "If there are ghosts somewhere on Dretha, maybe they still have unfinished business to take care of before they can rest." Akaine heard a lot of ghost stories in his life, some of them containing a bit of truth. What exactly that truth is is sometimes hard to recognize, so he tries to find out.

[Liliedhe]

The burly man looks up from his drink as the stranger involves himself in the conversation.

"Yeah, might be. But, I never felt like asking."

[Ascension]

Sshran isn't really happy about the report. He was hoping for something more concrete, something more easily tracked and killed.

"Walking dead with a freezing touch... Weird sstuff. Hmph. Doesn't even ssound like the sort of thing you can hunt. How about this day sside? Is there a way to get there from here?"

[Liliedhe]

"With a ship, sure. On foot or speeder, you can forget that", explains the human.

[Ascension]

"I guess from the fact you're all still living here that you don't get sshipss through here often."

[Liliedhe]

"Next drinks are on the newcomer, he figured it out", laughs Dunvar. "Aside from her" - he points to Netta - "supply ship that comes every six months, there's no regular traffic."

[Ascension]

Sshran curses in Dosh. The tone of his speech is evident even to those completely unfamiliar with the language.

"I'm sstuck here then, aren't I?"

[Liliedhe]

"Unless anybody here has a spare ship, yes, you are."

He grins almost maliciously.

[Ascension]

"Well. Better to hunt that which cannot be hunted than not to hunt at all. And if I die, at least I sshall die in the course of the hunt, not wasting away in this nothing town."

Sshran turns boldly to the others in the bar.

"I can track any beasst in the galaxy! Even the dead! If you want the truth of these sspectress, come with me! Join in the grand hunt!"

[Liliedhe]

As the Trandoshan lets out his boast, suddenly Netta has a strange feeling, like a cold hand brushes her neck...

[The_Snark]

"Netta Kynes," she whispered to Akaine, as Dunvar starts his story, and then settled in to listen. She didn't really believe in spectral beings out in the snow, but the story was captivating; she was drawn in as much as the rest of the cantina.

The Trandoshan's proclamation produces a momentary sort of silence in the bar; she feels a cold prickling down the back of her neck, and shivers, her mind going immediately to the legends they'd just heard. She turns around, but there's only Akaine sitting there. Akaine, who'd talked about the stories with a perfectly straight face. "Stop it," she whispers, nudging him with a hand to get his attention without being too loud in the silence; she could tell a ghost-story prank when she saw one.

[Battlecat]

The woman in the corner listens like the rest, all the while holding onto her mug to warm her hands. When the Trandoshan declares his aim to hunt ghosts, she smirks and shakes her head, taking a sip from her tea and leaning back in her seat.

[Ridai]

"Relax, didn't change anything." Akaine sounds more or less carefree with a as he whispers back and shrugs, concentrating on his drink again. "Won't have anything to show except maybe rotten appendages, but if that counts as proof for the hunt, happy hunting.", he says out loud so that the Imperial can stop worrying and start relaxing for her own good. Nervous Imperials are never a good sign.