Jedi Insurgency 118

Taking the second LAAT down the elevator shaft, Corvus played witness to the destruction that had been wrought. Twisted, scorched metal was everywhere. Great billowing clouds of toxic smoke rose from the dark pit down below, and the subtle crackle of charred flesh was ongoing. 

This time, the ride down was smooth, and without peril. The overgrown moss on the walls was gone, and when they reached the bottom, the blackened husks of hundreds of corpses was all that remained. To his eyes, they were like shadows baked into the pavement, like something out of Pompeii. The extreme temperature that had visited this confined space had briefly competed with the pyroclastic flow of one of Earth's deadliest volcanoes! 

Flying ahead of them, a series of probe droids no larger than a human head scouted the terrain. They had a good idea of where to go-the Force was practically a sirens call directing them-but these drones were meant to alert them to any unforeseen enemies. 

Traveling down countless corridors, and side rooms, the probe droids would send back a ping if they caught any movement, and were actively broadcasting a 3D map back to Tech & Echo's datapads. 

Meanwhile, Tech was slowly piloting the LAAT forward. Its headlamps illuminated a long, tall, wide horizontal tunnel. The structure seemed to go on for miles, and had countless sublevels. It really made Corvus wonder what had gone on down here? 

Glancing over Echo's shoulder, he was looking at his data pad, and saw something that had him purse his lips. 

“Pause, go back, I want to see the footage of that room.” Corvus ordered. 

“Sir.” Echo nodded, and then rewound the footage. 

Inside one of the many rooms that had been scouted, there was one that had training droids. The type that one would practice their lightsaber combat on…looking closer, he saw many straight lined scorch marks on the floor & walls. 

“Find something?” Obi-Wan enquired from the side. 

“Nothing important. However, I think I know where Palpatine trained with his lightsaber.” Corvus muttered, and showed Obi-Wan the footage. 

“Curious. You don't think this malevolent energy is related to him, do you?” Obi-Wan stroked his beard, and asked. 

Corvus felt his cheek twitch as an ugly half smile fell across his face. He wanted to say no, but Palpatine did 2v1 Maul and his brother Savage. As much as he hoped the old man remained on Coruscant, it wasn't as if he was glued to the throne like the Emperor of Mankind from Warhammer 40k. 

“No, I don't think so. I felt his presence when I escaped Coruscant, this isn't him…However, this aura is larger than yours, but it feels unstable. We have a chance, I only wish we knew more about our opponent.” Corvus spoke confidently, yet his words belied his concern. 

“Why my dear Revan, Sith Lords are my speciality. Power, aura, we train to overcome these trivialities with spirit and will.” Obi-Wan cheekily remarked, his words were almost a kind of a rebuke. 

Corvus smiled underneath his mask. “Famous last words. I seem to recall a vision in which you said those words, and then was promptly sent flying.” 

“You saw that, did you?” Obi-Wan grumbled. 

“Masters, what do you think lies ahead?” Yon stepped forward, saving Obi-Wan from his embarrassment. 

“You're the expert.” Obi-Wan gestured for him to speak. 

Corvus rolled his eyes. ‘Speciality my ass!’ 

Coughing into a gloved hand, he began to lay out his hypothesis: 

“As revealed previously, these mutations are caused by the Marakami orchid, a plant that had been experimented on by ancient Sith Lords. As evidenced by the footage we have obtained, it is very likely that a Sith Acolyte, or Darkside Adept related to Palpatine is conducting a ritual.” 

“That about sums it up.” Obi-Wan agreed. “Only, I would like to add something. In my experience, these rituals tend to finish just as we arrive. The Force, it seems, has a cruel sense of timing.” 

“The cries of the wild thrum with untapped potential. Twisted from nature's perfect form, something vile rises from the muck. A moon, peerless amongst others, black like the long hidden shadow of the Sith has returned. Seek not forgiveness or conflict, but blessing in disguise.” Jax's voice spilled out in an otherworldly timbre. The white haired teen spoke as if he were possessed, and it was almost as if he was an unknowing conduit for the Force. 

“A prophecy.” Obi-Wan whispered in awe. 

Corvus sharply inhaled, and smelt the tips of frozen pine trees. This wasn't a localized sensation, or something born from reality. Rather, it was metaphysical, a sensation purely born from the Force. 

“Okay, I'm going to say it. That was creepy.” Echo said from the side, and slightly backed away from Jax. 

“You alright there, Ghost?” Hunter asked in concern. “You Jedi aren't going to teach Omega none of that…are you?” 

“It is not something that can be taught. It is a gift.” Obi-Wan met Hunter’s accusatory, worried tone with a sharp look. 

‘Some call it a curse.’ Corvus privately thought to himself, yet held his tongue. 

How many innocent lives had been taken thanks to prophecy? His own mentor from the holocron had murdered innocent younglings due to prophecy. An entire sub-order of Jedi Shadows had gone insane fighting against Sith that weren't there. Hell, Anakin Skywalker went on to personally murder more people than Palpatine ever did. Prophecy was the biggest two handed sword, in Corvus’s opinion. 

“What does all that mean?” Yon asked, and looked to both Corvus and Obi-Wan for guidance. 

Corvus shook his head, and applied [Valor] to Jax, who seemed to be a bit woozy from the experience. 

“I've seen him, Master. This plague can be stopped, but the details remain unclear…” Jax looked up to him, and spoke in a clear, level tone. 

“I believe you, Jax.” Corvus patted him on the shoulder, then turned towards the cockpit. “Tech, give me an ETA!” 

“The probes have done their job, General. Give me 5 minutes!” Tech replied over the comms. 

“You heard him gentlemen, lock and load.” 

Up until now, Corvus generally had an intelligence gap on his opponents. Going into the darkness blind was mankind's greatest fear since their caveman days. And now, all he had was a prophecy to go off of?! Taking a deep breath, he stroked the hilt of his lightsaber to centre himself. He would have to be the fire then, and dispel this malevolent force that plagued the galaxy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beneath the animal enclosure on Naboo's capital city, Theed, Doctor Nuvo Vindi-a blue skinned alien within a hazmat suit-stood deep within the bowels of a derelict research facility. Where once it was a place of brilliant advancement for the betterment of society, it now served a darker purpose, and stood as a testament to those with no morals, and no bottom line. 

The flickering glow of half-broken lights painted the chamber in a sickly yellow pall, illuminating cracked bacta tanks that lined the walls. Within them floated grotesque silhouettes. They were failed experiments, and were no better than malformed husks of flesh. 

At the center of the chamber, a great cauldron of reinforced transparisteel, and carved with sinister looking, glowing runes, boiled with viscous black goop. It hissed and bubbled like a living thing, belching acrid fumes into the air. Vindi leaned over it, the grin on his narrow face stretching into something predatory, his eyes fever-bright with pride. With slow, theatrical movements, he pulled some levers, and an operating slab-one occupied by a corpse-was dangled precariously over the muck.

“Ahhh, yes.” Vindi purred, his voice carried with it a lilting, arrogant cadence. “The gifts of Palpatine-those Jedi corpses-so very necessary, so very...generous. Without their addition, none of this would be possible! Test subjects of the highest quality, wouldn’t you agree?” He chuckled at his own remark, and glanced at the corpse on the slab as if the two of them were deep within conversation. 

“The Blue Shadow Virus, hah! A parlor trick, a curiosity. No, no, no, it paled before the majesty of what I now hold in my hands. Blackwing virus...no, the Blackwing cure! A design so pure, it could save one from death itself!” Vindi declared, his mad voice echoed off the chambers’ walls. 

“To merge the mycelium of this flower with the nervous system, and draw nutrients from the ambient environment, it's simply ingenious!” His hand trembled with anticipation as he tightened his grip on the figure’s harness. “Immortality, eternal flesh unbound by the chains of decay! Just imagine what we could accomplish with all the time on our hands, the miracles we could visit upon this galaxy! Everyone deserves a taste of the Blackwing vaccine!”

He pressed a palm to his chest and gave a mock bow toward the slab, his grin widening. “And I must thank my dear mentor, my collaborator, the great biologist, Hego Damask! Your mysterious cauldron, your genius, ohhh, second only to my own, yet worth your weight in coaxium! Presumed dead, yes, but tonight... tonight I honor you, my Muun friend. This creation shall be your monument. The cauldron, the Blackwing cure, they had all been left to me to prove your hypothesis!”

With manic delight, Vindi clutched a lever. He yanked it, and a vat that had been resting on the slab hissed open. The corpse slid free of its preservative gel, and showed itself to be a slightly malformed male Muun. The body tumbled into the bubbling cauldron with a wet splash.

Filled with anticipation, Vindi worked several more gears, twisted knobs, and cranked valves. Steam rose into the air, and arcs of blue electricity cracked across the chamber as conduits sprang to life. Hot blue bolts struck the black liquid with violent bursts of energy, taking it to a boil. The black muck churned, frothed, and roared as if it were a storm upon the open ocean. A blast of fetid air, reeking of rot and ozone, swept through the hall.

Vindi’s laughter swelled into hysteria as the cauldron split open in a geyser of shadow and slime. Rising from within the pot was a figure standing at eight feet tall, his body was bound in thick, pulsating rope-like arteries. He hovered above the muck, his mouth opened with a loud snap, as if stitches were repeatedly broken, and his eyes, a pair of dark crescents, regarded Vindi with the light of intelligence. 

“IT'S ALIVE!” Vindi cried out in jubilation.

Throwing his arms into the air, tears of manic joy welled in his eyes. His voice cracked with ecstasy, the sound was a cackle that teetered between triumph and madness.

Countless years of study, of being ridiculed by his peers as a failure of fleeing small minded, ignorant governments. All the strife and failures, they had paid off in this one, singular moment. 

The malformed thing loomed above him. Dripping the black muck, it levitated down, each of its steps was wet as it slowly approached. And Doctor Nuvo Vindi stood before it, trembling not with fear, but with the unbearable, ecstatic pride of a god who had just crafted his first angel of death.

“Speak, who is your master!?” Vindi sprayed a bottle containing special pheromones into the air that would facilitate control, and spoke in a commanding tone. 

The thing opened its mouth wide, and bit down on his skull. Like a watermelon meeting the strike of a hammer, Doctor Nuvo Vindi was no more.