The Deep Woods

When Commander Martaine saw Commodore Starkiller's skull, his face blanched and tried to stand up and fell over backwards off the log he was sitting on. He got back up and brushed off his uniform as Starkiller began his brief. Just when he thought he had seen every twisted inch of the infernal machine, something new would throw him off! It just wasn't natural! He regained his seat quickly. Darth Tyna didn't smirk, but took note that Martaine seemed green. Greener than Taug and Jarvins. If the commander was surprised by the supernatural, gore, or death, he might not hold up well on the mission. The farther along the operation progressed, the more likely that they would encounter each of those. She'd need to keep her eye on him.

As Commodore Starkiller explained the terrain and fauna ahead, the crew listened. While Commander Martaine and the crew had never heard of a Tuk'ata, Commander Martaine wasn't about to ask a question that would make him look like he didn't know something. Jarvins looked to Commander Martaine waiting before Jarvins just asked the obvious question himself, "What's a Tuk'ata?"
[As Commodore Starkiller expounded, the whole party listened with rapt attention.]

"I've seen other variety of Tuk'ata, you say these ones are bigger." Tyna was referring to the Tuk'ata she saw at the Temple. "How big are these ones? Do you know if the grassland variety has any unique strengths or weaknesses?"

"Do we have any reports about how tall the grass is?" Tyna was concerned. At 5 feet tall, she wasn't going to be able to see over grass higher than that. She would either need to ride on the AT-ST or ride on Starkiller. Her height might also be a problem fording the Black River beyond the grasslands, assuming her suit was also corrosion resistant. She wasn't positive that it was. "Our best strategy for crossing the grasslands and the Black River might be with me riding on the AT-ST while we follow you, Commodore." Tyna's suggestion was also the easiest. If she was on the roof of the walker, Tyna could use her blaster if the Tuk'ata got close to the legs of the walker. Additionally, if they were force sensitive and hunted force sensitive individuals like the Terentatek, she would be the person they were most interested in attacking and she would better be able to defend herself on the roof. If one climbed the walker, she could use a lightsaber to dispatch it. With the imperials inside the walker, they wouldn't be able to see her on the roof if she used the force.

"I think that's a good strategy. Commodore, can they jump more than 9 meters?" Taug asked. "With the AT-ST at maximum height, they might not be able to reach us." Gunner Taug followed up, "Even if they could, we have big guns and an armored cabin." Though he had never heard of the Tuk'ata before today, he felt confident in his ability to hit fast moving targets.
"How fast can Tuk'ata run? We can do 90 km per hour over flat terrain. I assume the grasslands are flat?" Jarvins asked before adding, "Oh, also Agent Tyna, our walker is the new type E variant. We have a turret ring on the cockpit hatch that allows us to mount a mini E-web gun there."
"A mini E-web?" Tyna looked like she was in love with the idea. 
"An E-web, but smaller and with less range because of the shorter barrels, but does the job. We could pull it out and mount it up there for you, Agent Tyna. 360 degrees of rotation." The fact that the gun was not already mounted probably had to do with the fact that Martaine was such a bad shot.
"I think I'd like that." She rubbed her chin while she wondered if Starkiller could carry one with a generator backpack. The sith apprentice took a bite of her plain nutri-max ration bar. She made a face as she chewed and swallowed the compressed bar of macro-nutrients.

Taug saw the face she made at her food. "Yeah, these things, I swear there's more flavor if you dunk them in a cup of Caf." Taug laughed. "I noticed you with the dry rations. Have you tried the wet MRE's?" He scooped some out of his tin with a spoon.
"No. I always pack dry to save on weight." She nudged her backpack with her foot. "The dry rations are better on a march. I wasn't planning on commandeering the walker."
"I guess wet rations are a privilege afforded to the mechanized infantry." Jarvins finished his MRE. 

"Commodore, are Tuk'ata eatable?" Tyna was wondering what one tasted like. It was the end of day two in the field (one day traveling to the deep woods, Day two traveling through the woods.) and already she was missing the Belphegor's cantina food.
"I bet they'd be fine if we had some sauce." Jarvins washed his meal down with a swig from his canteen. 
"What kind of sauce?" Tyna was in the mood to talk food.
"Any kind of sauce! Hot sauce, Alderaan sauce, Senate sauce, Gamorrean sauce, or General Hux's-"  He looked up at the dark limbs above the campfire, thinking of more sauces he liked.
What is General Hux's? I've never heard of it." Tyna was intrigued. 
"Well, its a top secret blend of 11 planet-shattering herbs and spices." Jarvins repeated the phrase from the holocommercials. 
"Yeah, make sure it's your... First Order!" The brothers laughed at the inside joke while Martaine rolled his eyes. 

"And wait, Gamorreans have sauces?" Tyna couldn't let that pass without comment. Based on the Gamorreans she met, they didn't seem to have discerning palates. 
"One of my favorites. It's really smoky and tangy. At least the one's I've tried." 
"Do you have any with you?" 
"No, but I should have packed some. Maybe next time you commandeer our AT-ST, I'll be prepared."  Jarvins gave her a wink. He seemed a bit flirty. "If you don't mind me saying, Agent Tyna, you have the most peculiar gold eyes." He was staring. 
Last time she looked, her eyes were brown. "Probably just a trick of the firelight." She rubbed her bald stubbly head and looked away. The attention on her eyes made her feel self-conscious.
"Well, they light up and reflect the firelight like mirrors." Jarvins' smile faded. They reminded him of staring into the eyes of an animal in the dark.
Taug saw it too and disapproved of his brother's comment. "That's not polite, brother."
"I didn't mean it like that." 
"Just drop it, then." Taug elbowed his older brother.

Commander Martaine gave a Guffaw. "I wouldn't be worried about animals." He felt smug. He looked smug. "The real challenge will be getting the AT-ST across an acidic river. The damn stuff can damage footpads and strut mechanicals and render a craft inoperable. I am assuming, of course, that there isn't a bridge or ferry already over the river." Why would there be bridges on this god forsaken planet? There were none on all the other rivers they had to ford to follow Agent Tyna. "Normally I would suggest calling a Gozanti cruiser to pick us up and drop us on the other side, but because this area is a no-fly zone, there isn't much chance for that." He wasn't finished. "Given that we are among trees, if the river was small enough, we could cut and prepare four logs for a makeshift bridge and carry it to the river. If the river is shallow enough, we might try to cross and then use a natural base to rinse or neutralize the acid and then re-lubricate everything." His knowledge for maintaining the walkers did make him the expert. "If we also put on a prophylactic preparation of extra lubricant before we went in the water, the lubrication is hydrophobic and repels and displaces water. It might be enough to preserve the joints and servos from corrosion. If we did that before, and after, that would be ideal. Even better would be to find a natural occurring base, like quicklime, to neutralize the acid once we exit the water to halt corrosive processes. That way, the struts only have time to corrode while fording." Martaine wanted to know more about the mission. "I am sure its classified, but it might help us if we knew where we are going. It might be better to go upstream and cross at a narrower, shallower point."

Tyna listened. The commander made sense, but she also wanted Starkiller's input. "Commodore, what are your thoughts on the Black River and how to cross it?"

The group absorbed the intelligence presented by Commodore Starkiller. Taug nodded when Starkiller mentioned the effectiveness of heavy blasters and Jarvins took note when Starkiller discussed the speed of the Tuk'ata and the ranat burrows. They might need to proceed with care.

Tyna sat in silence as Starkiller spoke. She watched the flames of the fire dance across the wood and glowing coals. The crew were not familiar with "sith" and looked perplexed at the word and had no idea what a famine lord was. Ancient sith however, she was familiar with. All of Havok's old artifacts and treasures were inscribed with the runes. The writing even adorned her side arm, Guts, the old sith blaster Havok gave her. Havok had forced her to learn to read it, but she had very little experience speaking it. She probably could try speaking it, but she hoped things wouldn't come down to her abilities as a linguist. Were Tuk'ata forgiving of poor pronunciation? Who knows?

The crew looked surprised when Starkiller casually mentioned detonating a nuke in Lord Kryptman's fiefdom. Tyna was not surprised considering her past interactions with Starkiller and his preoccupation with blowing himself up with a nuke. She knew how close she had come to a similar fate a little over a month ago. She had almost lost her best friend to that fate down in the caves... She turned her mind back to the discussion.

"A weapons plant, eh?" Martaine seized on that idea. Though after Starkiller's look, he refused to make any further comments. The commander sat there and slowly ate his rations, as if he were giving everyone there the silent treatment.

With Commodore Starkiller's endorsement, the plan for the next day seemed settled. Conversation turned to other things.
"My lady?"
Darth Tyna looked up.
"The Commodore called you, 'Milady.' Are you royalty?" Jarvins asked casually.
Havok had told her not to answer questions about her own background or upbringing, as well as keep silent about her training in the force. She wasn't aristocracy to her knowledge, but she also wasn't going to explain sith customs. It would be easier to say she was royalty than explain the truth. "Yes." She thought about Lord Havok, her master. "My father is very important. One could call me a princess, I suppose."
"Wow! Why did he let you serve in the military?" Taug asked because it seemed like most royalty would want to protect their heirs. 
"He insisted I join. Where I'm from, you can only lead by taking the power. One day, I will be required to overthrow and kill my father to become..." She avoided saying that she would become a High Lady. "to take his place."
"That sounds very Mandalorian." Jarvins spoke, and quickly added, "But I know you're not a Mandalorian. I mean, you don't look like one."
Taug elbowed Jarvins again.
She took off her gloves and looked down intently at them while she brushed them off on her pantleg. Tyna was growing more uncomfortable with the looks Jarvins was giving her. Jarvins' comments about her appearance made her suddenly aware of the unnatural growths on her back, laying under her armor.  Perhaps if she felt less self-conscious she would have told Jarvins to shut up. Regardless, She didn't want to be around him. She didn't know what Jarvins meant, to 'look like a Mandalorian.' Mandalorians looked normal to her. She didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing, so she didn't say anything.
Her silence felt extremely awkward to the brothers. "What does he mean when the Commodore talks about the Eye?" Jarvins asked, changing the subject. "He mentioned it earlier." He didn't want to ask Starkiller, because the droid seemed busy with his axes.
Commander Martaine rolled his eyes. "He was just malfunctioning." 
"No, he wasn't." Darth Tyna was curt and defensive. "The Commodore operates exactly as he is supposed to. I trust him with my life."
"Uh, we saw him try to kill you." Taug looked puzzled. He had seen Starkiller turn into a spinning axe-dervish and come after Tyna.
"But here I am." The sith apprentice motioned to the ground. "If he wanted to kill me, I'd be dead. But I'm not. Commodore Starkiller is..." She looked at the hulking wardroid. He was dark and brooding in the firelight-- sharpening his magnificent axes. "My friend." She put her gloves on her helmet next to her.

Taug spoke up on his brother's behalf. "He didn't mean to offend you, my lady. He was just wondering what the "eye" was.  I am wondering too."
"Oh." Tyna sat up straight, suddenly calmer. She decided she liked Taug more than Jarvins. "The Eye is..." Darth Tyna wanted to make her description simple for the brothers. "Is like a deity. In Pzobian lore and religion, there is a great eye that watches over Pzob and blesses... those that believe, and can curse those who pollute sacred things and places. One must be chosen to enter certain places and one must respect certain things." It was a very vague description.

"That makes sense. The Commodore said these lands were blessed by the eye and we shouldn't have come here." Taug paraphrased.
"We're not in any danger are we, Agent Tyna?" Jarvins asked, but didn't sound scared.
"There is danger here. To you." Tyna answered so quickly that she surprised herself. Her irritation with him was beginning to show. She cleared her throat. "Uh, Pzobians have a sacred belief about this place that it is dear to believers." She motioned to the Be-knighted Droid, emphasizing that Starkiller was a believer. "It is best to either take it as absolutely true and speak positively about it, or not speak of it at all." 
Jarvins laughed, a little uneasy at Tyna's irritation. 
"So to honor local beliefs, should we praise the Eye?" Taug, like many in the navy, had superstitions. It wasn't a good thing to anger local deities.
Jarvins follow up Taug's question. "How do we do that?" He seemed to sense that Tyna was starting not to like him and seemed eager to appease her.

Tyna didn't want to say, "through violence and sacrifice," but that was how she found herself touched by the Eye. She wasn't about to discuss her personal mystical experience with the imperials though. "Uh, raise your hands to the sky like I do." She stretched her arms up to the dark trees above her, and Taug and Jarvins did also. "Oh Blessed Eye! Hear my voice! Bless thy servants as we seek to honor your power! I drank of the bitter cup and made the covenant. I served your High Lords and did not deny your call for sacrifice! Bless us in this land, in this place, that we may walk the path that thou showeth us." As she prayed, the darkness in the clearing lifted from her eyes and she could see the forest floor crisscrossed in a dazzling web of glowing threads of life. Beneath her feet she could feel the worms and centipedes burrowing. Above her she could feel the hungry eyes of forest spiders watching them.  But across from her she could see three cadavers dressed in imperial uniforms. She could see their thoughts and hopes... and plans and schemes... and sins. It was as if her soothsaying ability had been jacked up to 11. Their respect for her was skin deep, and in the case of Commander Martaine, only as deep as her special forces uniform and code clearance. The words flowed freely from her lips: "You all will live to see the sunrise, but only one of you will live to see the sunset." The Oracle had spoken. She wasn't aware of it, but her gold eyes glowed unnaturally in the firelight before darkening.

"Huh??" Commander Martaine exclaimed and dropped his fork. The other two weren't sure if Tyna was still praying and didn't want to interrupt.
"You should leave tonight and go back the way you came."
"What? Why? We're already here. No point in going back tonight." Commander Martaine picked up his fork. He was tired and didn't want to drive back through the difficult woods to the Belphegor. Besides, tomorrow he'd finally get some combat experience! 
"Suit yourself." Darth Tyna had spoken true prophecy and gave sound advice. She was not going to order them to leave, or provide any additional warnings.  "I've changed my mind. We follow a different plan." Tyna stood up. She was done with the three of them. "Tomorrow, we'll break into two elements. The Commodore and I will use stealth to take a direct route through the grass lands to save time. We'll leave with an hour head start. Then, Commander Martaine, you will cross the grasslands while drawing the Tuk'ata out and away from us. Take a less direct route to give us time to cross. We'll be the hypotenuse to your right triangle. We'll leave at dawn and we'll all meet up at the river." She might have to tighten Starkiller's chains or stuff them with grass, so they didn't rattle as he walked, but his new body was much quieter than before. It made a stealth crossing feasible, unlike in the Kinrath cave.

Taug looked disappointed by the change in plans. He had been looking forward to having a special forces gunner on board. Martaine looked pleased. "Agent Tyna, I think that is an excellent idea. I will man the Mini E-web." Martaine hated the idea of having another person in the cockpit, let alone one giving him orders and reminding him how bad of a shot he was.
Jarvins started to protest. "But, I thought- I mean, the Commodore agreed that it was a good plan!" Jarvins was staring at her again. Tyna could feel Jarvin's disappointment- his thoughts were still transparent to her. He wouldn't have a chance to attempt to sweet-talk her, gain her confidence, or brush up against her body in the conveniently crowded cockpit of the AT-ST. She could sense Jarvins' yearning. He had probably been in space too long without shore leave, without female company. But more than that, she could feel his ambition, as if he thought that her being 'royalty' was a way to help his career. She was just an object for him to use. She would enjoy watching his fate unfold.

One of Tyna's gloves slipped off her helmet. She crouched to pick it up and recoiled.
<"Hisssizzz, but what doez it eat?">
She could see Dragus, the Lord of Famine, looking back at her, up from the shadows on the ground. His voice was an echo in her mind. She couldn't forget her first meeting with him at the temple-- even if she tried. He wasn't here... but in the footprint. "We walk in his footsteps." She looked up at Starkiller, surprised. "He was here!" In her haste she forgot to explain who. She reached back down and gingerly felt the ground again before picking up her glove and a rock. "He used this," she held up the stone, "to start the fire. Then they camped here for the night... with an ewok." She saw that she had brushed one of the reptilian footprints.  If she had to take a guess, she would say that the sith lord had left an imprint of his passing on this place, and she could read it if she touched something he touched with her bare skin. Needless to say the footprints were not from a Gozzo. The other prints had to be from those that accompanied him.
"Who was here?"
Darth Tyna stood up again, grabbing her helmet and gloves. She owed them no explanation but she gave one anyway. "The Lord of Famine." She ignored their questioning looks.



"Starkiller, thank you for your intel and your support. I will do as you suggest and go to bed." She trusted that Starkiller would watch over her. With his assurance, she didn't even bother setting up her collection of smart land mines.
She climbed into her hammock and fastened the bug netting as ID10 attached itself to the limb of a tree branch. The small droid would add it's photoreceptor to Starkiller's cadre in watching over Tyna. While Tyna trusted Starkiller, she still slept with her lightsaber on her belt and blaster in her lap. She did not trust the woods. 

The crew of the AT-ST soon retired to their survival shelter after she did. Following protocol, each would stand a 3 hour watch through the night, with Taug taking first watch, then Jarvins in the dead of night, then Martaine.
Taug put another log on the fire and sat with his back to the firelight with his blaster on his knees. Gazing into the darkness, he suddenly realized how loud the woods can be at night.

After the days events, Darth Tyna fell asleep almost as soon as she laid down.
Tyna found herself in an endless field of golden grass, beneath a blue sky. In all directions she could see the flat grassland unfold for miles. Behind her, she saw her friend, Commodore Starkiller, dutifully planting a yawning Neti sapling in the ground. A troop of Hannite monks arrived wheeling a smelly cart of fertilizer and began shoveling the nutritious mixture around the animated tree. The air was thick with their fear as Starkiller coordinated their actions. They followed his instructions as best as they could (for feeble fleshlings, but believers none-the-less).

Starkiller set asside his axes and hefted a large barrel of water which he carefully (for a wardroid) dumped on the neti. The small creature burbled and shot forth branches and leaves, growing at an accelerated pace into a fully grown Pzobian oak. Starkiller stoicly watched with his blazing crimson photoreceptors in approval as the neti flourished under his stewardship. Starkiller appointed the Hannites to watch over the tree, and they did, with spears and staves.

The sith apprentice felt very content in the shadow of the tree, but she felt the call in the distance. A great smoking mountain beyond the grasslands. She could see a cloud of smoke drifting up from the horizon. She walked from the shadow of the neti into the expansive grasslands. As she walked, the wind blew and shook out her dark hair. She combed her hand through her hair and felt the back of her head. She felt no remaining scar from when she had been partially scalped in the temple. It was only hair, but having it back made her happy. She turned to share her hair with Starkiller but she must have walked further than she realized. The Neti-tree was far in the distance behind her, and had multiplied into a grove. She could see Starkiller's silver body glimmering against the dark trunks.

"BARK!"
Tyna whirled at the sound. A sickly Tuk'ata with pale white fur emerged out of the tall grass. The animal had all the signs of debilitating disease. Saliva drooled from its mouth, and its skin was pulled tight over its ribs and spine. A bite from it could inflict unknown infections.
"Stay back!" She lifted her blaster to point it at the limping animal. A thought occurred to her: "I command you!" She ordered the animal to stop in a clumsy use of the sith language. It did not heed her. A golden butterfly flittered from the grass and landed on the Tuk'ata, halting it. The animal shook its mangy fur as the insect took off again. The Tuk'ata sat and stared with its electric blue eyes at Tyna, before it craned its head to watch the butterfly.

Darth Tyna raised her blaster aiming it at the diseased wolfen creature, intent to put it down, but the golden butterfly fluttered towards her and caught the sunlight with it's metallic wings. It was mesmerizing to watch. Both she and the Tuk'ata watched it float on the breeze until the butterfly landed on the silenced emitter shroud of Tyna's E-11s blaster.

Tyna lowered her blaster as a great shadow moved across the sun. See looked up into the sky to see an eclipse... but not caused by a moon, or rather, not caused by a natural moon.  The Eye of Palpatine sent down massive feelers to to touch the surface of Pzob.  Tyna felt herself rising into the air... She looked down and found that she wasn't being pulled up, but pushed up from below. At her feet was a massive mound of bodies. The dead corpses piled up and up, lifting her higher and higher towards the clarion call of the Holy battlemoon...

***
Holy shit! Jarvins, rolled over the log and fired his blaster at the flaming spider before rolling back over the log and firing several times blindly into the woods in the direction that Starkiller had pulled the spider. He hoped his fire would alert his comrades in the shelter. Over his head he could see the wiggling shadows splayed out on the branches. He looked up and gasped. He didn't want to believe it. But his lungs shouted it anyway. "SPIDERS!"

In the shelter, Taug and Martaine were roused by the blaster bolts and shouting. They heard the loud thump on the roof of their shelter.
"What is it?"
"I don't know. I heard blasters and now this. Jarvins was shooting, and something thumped on our roof."
Taug grabbed his blaster and ran out of the shelter while Martaine pulled his sidearm from his holster. Taug saw a huge burning spider in the fire, while Starkiller stomped its head and yanked his chain free. Jarvins was couched by a log, firing up into the trees.
Commander Martaine lurched out of the shelter with his blaster as the spider on top of the roof pounced. The weight of it's meter-wide body pushed him to the ground. "AIIEEEE!" Martaine screamed and struggled to keep the dripping fangs away from his face. Taug shot the spider, hallowing out its abdomen with a blasterbolt. The creature's legs continued twitching after it died, and Martain continued fighting with the body until Taug pulled the spider off by the legs. 
"Sir! Get up!" Taug grabbed Martaine by the arm and pulled him up.  "Quick to the fireside!" 
Martaine looked over and saw Jarvins shooting at a spider lowering itself over his head. "No, to the AT-ST! We'll lock the door!"
Taug unfolded the blaster's buttstock and looked up at the trees. In the darkness it was difficult to tell distinguish spiders from rustling branches and shadows. "You go then. I'll stay with my brother."
Martaine, was fearful but also managed to scowl. He personally was too craven and wouldn't attempt to leave Taug's side. Martiane didn't have faith in the aim of his own trembling arm. "We'll get Jarvins, first."
They walked, crouched, until they all were within the glowing light of the fire.
"Commander, put more wood on!" Jarvins hissed. He fired his blaster at something he thought was a spider, and actually turned out to be one. He was rewarded with an angry squeal. 
"I'm in command!" Martaine looked at the fire, which by this point was beginning to die. "And I'm going to feed the fire." Martaine threw a log on the fire, in between spasmatic bursts of fire from his blaster pistol.

Commander Martaine had to jump back from the flames to avoid getting caught in the supercharged flames. He had landed on his butt in the dirt, and was too preoccupied in looking around at the retreating bugs to notice that he lost his eyebrows and had a smoldering mustache.
"I don't believe it!" Jarvins watched as the blue light pushed back both the darkness and the arachnid threat. He continued watching the spiders stalking around the outskirts of the camp. "I thought we were going to be overrun!"
Taug stopped firing his blaster to look around, likewise amazed. "Well I'm glad we weren't." Taug gave Starkiller a thumbs up. "Thanks commodore!"
"An hour of watch, and then 5 minutes of sheer terror." Jarvins blew a raspberry while he collected himself.
Taug pointed to Martaine. "Sir, your mustache is on fire."
The commander's eyes went cross-eyed and he quickly patted out the smoldering hairs.

ID10 maintained a rolling scan of spiders moving through the trees above Darth Tyna. While none previously attempted to so much as spin a thread of web in her direction, once Starkiller removed the light of the lantern, spiders seemed to rally in the darkness above her bed. ID10 scanned the trees again and saw a large spider descending over the sithling's hammock. Alarmed, the droid left its perch on a branch and began floating down, beeping to alert the DRK-1's and Lady Tyna. "Doweep boop! Deet deet DEET!" Darth Tyna's body was still, like death. ID10 had to make s split second decision, to either attempt to wake Tyna, or engage the spider. It's little processor determined that with the unarmed DRK-1 units alerting Starkiller, it was expedient for the ID10 droid to engage and hold off the spider to give Starkiller time to assess the threat and react.

Perhaps seeing Starkiller smash and thrash several arachnids inspired ID10 to take courage. "Doot doot doo dooooo!" Beeping a tiny vicious warcry, the small hovering droid swooped down with its stun attachment charged and crackling. The spider's numerous compound eyes saw the droid approach and it hissed a warning to keep the flying meddler away from his prey. Undeterred, ID10 zoomed like a dive bomber and buzzed the spider. The spider took a swipe at the droid but missed, and the momentum caused the spider to spin on it's thread. ID10 arched up gaining altitude before stalling, turning over in a maneuver like a TIE Striker, and diving on the spider again. This time the foes hit each other. The spider batted the probe droid, sending it careening into the darkness. On touching the arachnid, however, ID10 managed to discharge its stun attachment momentarily electrocuting the spider. The spider jolted, unable to move, with all of its hairs standing on end with static. ID10's brave charge also left a burn mark in the shape of the stun attachment's contact points.

"Hey, There's another big one over there!" Taug pointed beyond the glow of the supernatural campfire to the spider as it deftly resumed lowering itself over Darth Tyna's hammock.

Alerted to the approaching spiders through the eyes of his hovering one-eyed agents, Starkiller once again swung the holy anointed chain above his head. Synthesized Judgment "Thou art DOUBLY unworthy! And shall receive a double portion of my wrath!" With that pronouncement the dark knight unleashed the chain's hook. The butcher's hook pierced the spider's exoskeleton of its thorax and held firm as Starkiller yanked the chain tight.
The spider gripped its own web-thread defiantly hissing. Though in pain, the spider was not incapacitated.
 Synthesized testimony: "All things must bend to the will of the Eye, in this place!" Hand-over-hand, Starkiller tugged the spider towards him. The spider started to struggle, attempting to climb its own thread like a lifeline of escape.
"NO! You shall not escape! Woes beyond your ken shall be heaped upon your kith, kin and kind!" Starkiller's vociferous vocabulator bellowed with a fevered pitch. With each tug, the meat hook on the spider pulled the bug like the weight on a pendulum, up and away from Tyna's slung hammock. "And who am I to take this task upon me?" The war droid's skeletal face produced a synthesized snarl. "I am Commodore Starkiller, the Machine Lord, the Scourging Fist of High Lord Bacca, the Custodian of the Temple, Executioner of the Eye's Will, and the appointed "Best Friend" of the Eye's Sibyl, who you dare to approach!"

Starkiller had devoted a processor thread to ponder the meaning of "Friend" and near enough settled on a working definition, (subject to new data and inputs), that it may mean a type of "holy champion." Lady Tyna used the word frequently enough around him and exclusively enough that it might also be a rare Sith title or ancient position of honor and power relative to her. The superlative "Best" also denoted his clear preeminent rank among any other potential "Friends" that Lady Tyna may have deemed worthy to appoint. In short, the Saint's "Friend" designation likely empowered him with authority to enforce the will of the Eye as revealed through the Oracle's utterances.

"To attempt to raise ONE hand against a chosen one is unforgivable and EIGHT proves your wickedness!" The Spider was far stronger than he looked. Its legs and thread was capable of securing the spider's weight, plus resist the incredible force of the tug-of-war with Starkiller. Starkiller dug in his heels and braced a boot against a stump at the fireside. His holy chain was slowly pulled straight, creating a straight-line from Starkiller, to the spider, and continuing the same angle up to the shadowy tree branches. "For that I must EXECUTE!" Starkiller gave his chain one final resolute jerk. With a loud CRACK, the branch securing the spider's spun-thread broke. The chain, spider, thread, and tree branch were pulled to the ground where they landed inside the fierce glow of the supernatural firelight. The Spider hissed and jerked and squirmed in an attempt to scurry into the comfort of the shadows but Starkiller looped his end of the chain around the tree stump at his feet. Starkiller advanced on the hapless arachnid, drawing Butchersbane from his back.

<Awaken child.>
With the prompting as well as all the blasterfire and shouting, the teenage Darth Tyna finally roused from her hammock, sitting up and rolling out of bed. She rubbed her eyes. "What's going on?" She asked, squinting and stepping into the bright blueish light of the campfire.
"My Lady." Commodore Starkiller knelt before he reached the the trapped offending insectoid, resting his executioner's axe on his knee. "A foolish troop of spiders attacked during the midnight watch. This impertinent invertebrate approached you in your sleep."

Darth Tyna could see the gore-soaked chain that formerly adorned Starkiller's midsection had a hook that was caught on the struggling spider's torso. The spider wiggled and snapped its mandibles at Tyna. The energy spinning around the spider wasn't quite right to her eyes. A golden butterfly fluttered from the shadows and landed on Tyna's shoulder.

"Starkiller, you are faithful. I wish to let this one go, after I set it right."

Starkiller looked up in synthesized surprise. "My Lady?"
Jarvins, Taug and Martaine looked horrified. They each simultaneously spoke. "What are you saying?" Martaine looked to his men. "Has she lost her mind?"
"I'd advise against it, princess." Jarvins drawled. "They attacked us."
"I'd hate to disagree Agent Tyna; I'm with Starkiller on this one." Taug nodded, fully onboard with Starkiller using his axes on the hateful bug.
Even ID10 added its voice to theirs as he crawled his way from the underbrush into the firelight. "BEEBEEP! DOOP DIM!" The innocuous little droid was calling for blood.

"Something has upset the natural balance here. I can't explain how I know, but this one was starving. Something has been disrupting its natural prey." She put her hand to her forehead in disbelief. "I don't even know what I am saying! How would I set it right? I don't even know what their natural prey is!" She didn't know why she felt she needed to spare the spider. She also wanted to kill it. She wanted to kill it so bad. She circled the spider seemingly arguing with herself. Unable to contain herself any longer, she made an impulsive decision. She wound up her leg for a kick and in a split second, she channeled the force into her leg and swung it like a blade, cleaving straight through the arachnid's stubby neck nearly as neatly as a lightsaber. The head, with it's hideous eyeballs, spun off into the shadows.

"GARH!!" Tyna instantly felt as though she had been stabbed in the back. She fell to her knees next to the twitching spider corpse.  She grit her teeth as she unstrapped her chest armor, letting it fall to the ground. There appeared to be two bulges on her back moving underneath her jumpsuit. "STAY BACK!" She climbed to her feet and limped behind the nearest tree. 

"One: that was epic," Jarvins grinned at what he took as a raw display of special forces talent. "and two: Uh, shouldn't we go check on her?" Jarvins asked, looking at Martaine and Taug. "She might be having a medical emergency. Plus there are spiders still running around."
Taug nodded in agreement. "We should ask first." To Tyna, "Are you OK? We're going to come check on you, ok?"
"I'll kill anyone that looks!" She snapped, voice strained.

Taug hesitated. "I think we should stay here. I am sure she can kill any spiders that come along."
"I agree." Jarvins nodded to his brother.
"Probably just her monthly womanly issues." For once Commander Martaine did not seem surprised by the unusual turn of events.
Synthesized inquiry, "My lady, may I offer my assistance?" 
"ANYONE, other than Starkiller, CAN FUCK OFF!"

Starkiller rose from his knees and gathered his chain from the spider corpse. One of Starkiller's masked DRK-1 probes hovered over to where ID10 lay crawling and allowed the small droid to attach its legs to its chassis. The probe lifted ID10 and carried it back to the firelight. ID10 beeped in gratitude.
Another DRK unit hovered to the opposite side of the tree that Tyna hid behind, and kept watch.
"Starkiller..." Tyna's voice was softer though still stressed. "You can come here.  Please?"

From briefly observing the lumps moving on Tyna's back, Starkiller's processors intuited something biological at play and approached the tree. He found the sith apprentice sitting with her jumpsuit rolled down to her waist, with tears streaked down her face. On her back, between her should blades, appeared two grasping hands ending at the wrists.  It appeared as though someone had cloned her hands and grafted them onto her back! With mechanical precision, Starkiller surveyed her back and determined that the fingers were longer and thinner than Tyna's normal fingers and the fingernails no longer appeared human, but predatorial. The fingers were connected by webbing, like an amphibian. Starkiller observed, as the hands undulated, that they appeared structurally sound--- both skeletally and muscularly connected to Tyna's back with a new set of joints.

"It wasn't so bad earlier.  They're just fingers. I didn't tell you, because I didn't want it to affect the mission. I'm sorry!" Tyna leaned forward on all fours and gripped the roots of the tree, gritting her teeth when the pain started again. "Fuck! Ow!" On her back, the hands seemed to grow and alter shape a little. Her breathe came in gasps and grunts until the appendages stopped growing. "Just give me a couple minutes and... and... I think I'll be ok!" 
Starkiller scanned them again and determined the fingers grew by 1 cm and the wrists thickened. 
Tyna let go of the roots and fell forward, exhausted and panting. She felt like she just ran a marathon. "I think its done." The hands folded themselves flush against her back and she lay on the ground for a moment, resting, before she sat up and gingerly started to roll her jumpsuit uniform up and over her shoulders. "I was going to have to tell you eventually.  Now you know." She wiped her wet eyes and blew her nose on her bicep sleeve. "Please don't scrub the mission." She plead.

Darth Tyna finished pulling on her jumpsuit while she watched Starkiller fillet and dress the spider-kill. She felt relief when Starkiller said he wouldn't scrub the mission. As the Dread Seer's apprentice, she knew there would be consequences to giving up or abandoning a mission. It reflected poorly on Havok and his training and he did not train those that could not carry the powers or responsibility of his mantle. (or so he said.). Consequences aside, she wouldn't leave Starkiller in a lurch, regardless of the mission's success or failure. It was an ambitious undertaking, considering that she only could compare her knowledge and power in the force with her master and the other highly accomplished High Lords. She was keenly aware that she was not on their level. She would do her best for Starkiller. 


Tyna hadn't taken the time to contemplate what her change meant. She had been channeling most of her focus on not freaking out from the growths or trying to cut them off with her lightsaber.


Starkiller had previously taken precise observations of the saint. When he lifted her chin there was no mistaking it. The irises of her eyes were the color of metallic gold, where a day earlier they had been brown.

"But I have to believe it is as the Eye intended, for the Dread Seer sanctioned this mission. With his prophetic powers, it seems unlikely that he was not aware this would occur."

Rest assured, her master had foreseen it and sent her on this mission regardless. She thought back to what Havok had said: "Do you think any of that will stop the powers of the dark side?" Surely she was contending with a temporary facet of the dark side that wouldn't get in the way. Havok also did not make it a practice to set her up to fail. Except for that one time, where the point was that the mission was impossible and she was supposed to fail so that Havok could teach her about dealing with failure. Despite that, she had very nearly found a way to creatively succeed by hacking a new solution. The memory made her smile. That was the time Havok was forced to acknowledge her growing skill with getting around locks. Starkiller's voice brought her back to the moment.

"Have faith, my lady. Whatever the cause, whatever else occurs, I will not abandon you to the vagaries of fate. Should your flesh continue to corrupt and you transform into a mindless savage beast driven with the desire to consume organic flesh..." 

The thought scared her. She hadn't considered that this might be the beginning of a mutagenic or degenerative process that would leave her... forever changed. If this was the beginning of the end of the line, it might already be too late for her. It would be within Havok's nature not to warn someone of their imminent demise, since self-awareness of one's own mortality often had ways of shifting a person's character and priorities. These in turn sometimes upset Havok's visions. There was no comfort in that line of thinking.

"...I will use these sacred chains intended for the Death Lord to bind you instead, drag whatever sithspawn you have become back to the temple, and seek the Eye's blessing for a cure. No matter how many hannite sacrifices it requires, even if the temple stones overflow with enough blood to drown the ruins of the Eye's once great city, I will see it done. If I must raise entire star systems and turn the entire galaxy to ash, you will be restored. This I swear."

She believed him. She had absolute confidence that he would do anything and everything for her if things came to... that. "Thanks." Starkiller reminded her, and told her what she needed to hear. Her master had, in all likelihood, foreseen everything and would know what to do about the appendages when she got back to the Belphegor. She was somewhat concerned if they grew any more she would either need to cut holes in her uniform, or she wouldn't be able to wear it, or her armor. Not having the protection of her jumpsuit or armor would be more worrisome in the coming days.

Tyna hugged the towering metal monster. She couldn't even get her arms all the way around him. She rested her shaved stubble-y head against the chains and his breastplate. Starkiller could look down and see the scar tissue on the back of Tyna's head from when her bun was cut off along with the back of her scalp. The injury necessitated her shaving her head for proper treatment.

She wondered what she would do if Starkiller became incapacitated. There was no way she could carry or drag him back to the temple... She supposed she'd have to dismantle him and carry him back piece by piece through multiple trips through the deep woods... It was difficult to imaging the large and mighty wardroid in defeat, even though he was falling apart when she first met him. Even though he had to upload himself into that bastard assassin droid, Lomm. In her mind, Starkiller would always find a way to pull through.

She felt no fear when Starkiller drew an ax and held it close to her back. She peered over her shoulder to see the runes glow white and the ax started to smoke. She felt the appendages shiver and flutter under her uniform. "Are your axes channeling the dark side?" She asked wondering what power, other than the force, could influence the runes to change color, especially in the deep woods.


"Hey!" She felt the push and quickly realized the spider-clad DRK-1 was being playful. Her face grinned. "I'm gonna getcha!" She started chasing after the droid, which zoomed off in the direction of the campfire. Tyna did a cartwheel and a jumping flip as she ran along, all seemingly forgotten.

She called over her shoulder. "Let's get ready to leave soon. I have a feeling we'll need more than an hour's head start and I suspect that Commander Martaine has difficulty following instructions..." Her words showed Starkiller that she considered the AT-ST and crew to be an unreliable asset. If Starkiller wanted to know if she ever questioned his reliability, the evidence would be that she would cease to rely on him.

Tyna walked back into the firelight of the enhanced blue campfire to find Commander Martaine sitting by the fire with a blaster rifle in his arms and looking very uncomfortable. From the looks of it, Taug and Jarvins had gone to bed and now the commander was on watch. 

She picked up the armor she had shed on the ground, brushing off a poisonous centipede that had curled up in one of the sculpted pectoral muscles. Ludacris that the armor even for women was always biased towards a masculine physique. Then again, her physique was still gender neutral... Her shaved head did not help. She sat down on a log across from the commander as Starkiller joined her by the fire. Tyna began strapping on her armor. The Commander was aware they were there, but seemed to refuse to look at either of them. 
Tyna suddenly remembered that she had said she'd kill anyone that looked at her. "I countermand my order. You can look at me now."  His face twitched and he looked over at the pair, before looking away. 
In the light of the fire she saw a DRK-1 droid helping ID10 repair himself. It seemed like a simple fix. Next to the droids, the gold butterfly sat, unaffected by the blue light of the campfire. Soon, ID10 was hovering around the campfire again. 
"Commander, we're going to leave and head out soon. Stick to the plan. If you don't, whatever happens will be on your head."
The commander grumbled a "Yes, ma'am." in acknowledgment.
She didn't know why she gave him another warning. Maybe she just liked how he squirmed when she warned him. Maybe she was showing off for Starkiller. Maybe it was just the thrill of beginning to get a taste for feeling the future, even if she didn't know exactly how it would unfold. Some people were such hot messes that there were too many ways to predict how, specifically, they would eventually fuck themselves. But that didn't change the feeling of certainty that they would be their own undoing.

She stood up and left the fireside to pack up her hammock and get ready to move out. Before leaving the campground, Darth Tyna took the liberty of altering her loadout. She exchanged all but two of her frag grenades for smoke grenades and flashbangs, and one demolition charge. Inside of 15 minutes she was ready with her kit packed, helmet on, and blaster rifle in her hands. "I'm ready."

As the forest thinned, the unnatural darkness also gave way to the more natural night. Darth Tyna caught glimpses of the night sky in its majesty, speckled with stars and the prominent Pzob nebulae. Following behind Commodore Starkiller and his lantern, she honestly had no idea how a wardroid was so talented as to sew a shawl from spider bits. It wasn't just cosmetic either. It served the practical purpose of muffling his clanking chains. From datapad on her wrist, the decibels were low enough that they might have a chance for a stealth crossing. They exited the forest as the sun peaked over the horizon.

In the morning light, Starkiller knelt in prayer on a bed of moss. She turned off her night vision and tipped up her helmet to watch him. She was somewhat perplexed. From Tyna's perspective, the woods themselves may have been Lady Trace's offering to the Eye. If that was the case, no recompense was required to Lady Trace for the passing. If the mission was the will of the Eye, then it was also its will to destroy the rotten neti, the audacious spiders and anything else that raised their hand against them or was tainted by necrotic magic. A servant need not apologize for taking out the trash.
As Starkiller prayed about planting Hannite heads, she thought back to her dream last night. She wasn't one to usually pay attention to dreams but her recent dreams seemed to be more relevant to their mission. She didn't completely trust them, but she wouldn't rule them out as perhaps another channel her gifts might operate through either. Especially in the deep woods.  After all, she had grown hands on her back in less than a day. If her dream was a guide, Starkiller's nourishing care would surely rejuvenate the glen and repair any damage they had done.

Darth Tyna pulled her helmet down again as Starkiller stood pointing to the rocky mounds.
"Yes. I see them."
The outcroppings seemed a long ways off. They would need to move quickly to clear the grasslands by noon.

A gold butterfly landed on Tyna's shoulder and she stopped ID10 from zapping it. "Let it be." It was nearly identical to the one she saw in her dreams. ID10, still clutching the blood berry package, landed on Tyna's backpack and kept its eye on the insect. "Stay below the grass. Decrease volume. Reset your volume once we get to the river. You've turned off your tracker, right?"
"BEEeeeeeop." The ID10 unit lowered its volume to hushed boops.
"Good." She didn't want the AT-ST crew to be able to follow them through the grasses. Intentionally or accidentally.
She took a compass reading, so she'd still know the direction to travel to get to the river if she got separated from Starkiller. They would be heading almost due east at 89 degrees.

She followed Starkiller into the grasses. Her black uniform and armor wasn't too conspicuous among the dark green hues of the giant blades of grass that surrounded her. As they traveled it felt like she was constantly walking at the bottom of a green ravine. The grass provided plenty of shade as they walked, until the sun rose high enough in the sky to shine down into the "ravine" Starkiller they traveled. There were some winding paths through the grass, but often, to keep on course, Starkiller had to part the grass and push through until they reach another... Ranat trail?  Tyna restrained her questions. They might be Tuk'ata hunting trails, but the winding trails through the grass seemed to connect the Ranat warrens. 

The ground was packed dirt, but uneven in some places. As they walked, they passed the mouth of the tenth Ranat burrow she counted. This one may have been abandoned, because the entrance looked partially collapsed and there was a pattern of erosion showing it had rained at least once since the entrance had been damaged. She would have expected an occupied burrow to be in good repair and not sit in its current state long enough to erode before being repaired.

Based on her dream, she didn't think it was the Eye's will that they slaughter the Tuk'ata, if they could avoid it. It wasn't that she felt mercy, or sorrow at the prospect of killing a Tuk'ata- it just seemed like leaving them undisturbed was the best way to go about the mission. They were bred and raised by Lord Kryptman. They, as apex predators, thrived in this place for a long time. If the land was sacred and they lived on the land, why disturb that? On the other hand, if they were a direct impediment, she wouldn't think twice about using every charge in her powercells to kill every last one. She'd do it if they attacked her or Starkiller. The conflict was real: She really wanted to test out her blaster, but she also realized that these lands were full of monsters and power she did not understand and might underestimate... but if she did have to fight a Tuk'ata, she'd ask Starkiller to show her how to make her own fur cape. She quietly sighed. If her plan worked, they might not even see one- and it would be a good thing.

In the distance behind them, she could hear something. Just when the wind was right... She stopped and whispered. "Starkiller, I think Martaine just reached the plains!" She listened again and picked up the distant mechanically shambling sound of an AT-ST. "They are behind us and leading away from us. We probably can pick up our pace with them attracting the attention." From the cadence and tempo, the walker was accelerating across the plains instead of sticking to a brisk even pace.

"That idiot!" She hissed as she looked down at the Ranat borrow "They're going too fast." She stomped on the mound of dirt around the borrow and another clump collapsed on the entrance. If her weight would move dirt, then the Walker would as well. "The ground is too soft around these burrows." It was only a question of when the walker would hit uneven ground. Jarvins might be a good driver, but no one was that good. Well may be Havok's pilot, Virgil Faust, was that good, but he was an anomaly. It was frustrating to think about how crews suffered for their commander's mistakes. 

Interestingly enough, most of the First Order technology had been developed or had at least been revealed to the galaxy at large during the period of time that Commodore Starkiller had been collecting dust in the supply closet in the temple workshop. So while he was intimately familiar with the Galactic Empire era tech that the Council of the Eye and subsequent New Order of the Eye had commonly used, this newer tech employed by the forces under the secret command of the Dread Seer was unfamiliar to him. His audio receptors listened to the shambling echo carried on the wind. From what he knew of the older AT-ST model the Empire utilized, which was likely to be the foundation upon which the newer model was designed, he concurred that based on what he heard they were indeed proceeding at an unsafe speed across the grass plains. Unlike Tyna, however, he was not as perturbed by it.

Synthesized Whisper "Their fate was sealed the moment they intruded on these sacred lands, my lady." No forgiveness from this quarter.

AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

A great howl echoed across the grassy plains, shortly thereafter joined by another, then another after that. In moments a symphony of ominous bestial cries sounded as the slumbering packs of tuk'ata were roused and added their savage song to the melody of impending death. The warbot's knee joints groaned slightly as he attempted to lower his armour plated bulk as wolfish shapes appeared atop the rocky mounds that pockmarked the grasslands like pustules on a pox-ridden host. Even his usually oppressive brilliant red photo-receptors had dimmed a few lumens to present less of a revealing glow through the visor slit of his Sith iron helm. Wordlessly, he raised his right gauntlet and indicated with a metal digit towards the nearest mound to them, a quarter of a shockball stadium ahead, and slightly to their left. Multiple creatures could be seen emerging from a dark crevice clawed into the rock, where they gathered on the edge before a two story drop. Next to the Machine Lord, one of his eye-bots sporting the cracked leathery visage of the hannite formerly known as Stephon, began to rise. This time the nightmare knight allowed its ascent as it rose above the top of the grass and floated higher and higher, straining its repulsors as it rose to a maximum ceiling of ten meters, well above the danger the others faced unless the tuk'ata could sprout wings and fly. They could not.

Its grimy lens zoomed in on the gathering pack of hostile repto-canines, collecting data which it transmitted wirelessly to the warbot squatting in the tall grass. As expected, these tuk'ata appeared much larger than the garden variety on Korriban. Be it through selective breeding or the oversaturation of darkside energy that corrupted this place, they had grown to massive proportions, each being at least one and a half times the size of the Machine Lord's mechanical frame. Not quite reek sized, but certainly large enough to pose a serious threat to the warbot and apprentice. Black ichor wept from the stinger on their tails as steaming ropes of drool dripped in a steady flow from their slathering yellow jaws. Their eyes glowed a fierce red, much like the Commodore's, though lacking the clean precision of his own. The muscular digits manipulating their claws were full of such raw strength that the stone upon which they tread was carved up beneath their flexing feet. They gathered on that mound, six in total according to his eye-bots tally, which included the one that had been standing watch.


With a primal snarl they leapt from their elevated position down into the tall grass, tearing up the green field as they raced in the direction of the AT-ST, drawn by the sound it had created. Though they were no longer visible amongst the foliage, the sign of their passing was obvious as the tall stalks of green bent under the tread of their claws, tearing up tuffs of grass and dried dirt as they pursued their quarry. In the air above, the DRK-1 turned a full 360 degrees. Its camera captured numerous streaking lines disturbing the terrain, all converging in the direction of the AT-ST. Fortunately none of those lines were headed towards them. If nothing else, the AT-ST was proving a useful decoy. That did not spell well for its crew, however, who were now in a great deal of peril. When it was clear nothing was headed their way, the probe with its strained repulsors descended back to the ground, joining its mechanical kin. Once more whole with his orbiting probes, the Machine Lord craned his helm towards Tyna and extended a gauntlet, resting his hand on her shoulder.

Synthesized Warning "We must go." While hardly an astute observer of human emotion, the viral entity was not blind to the physical identifiers that suggested the apprentice wanted to go help the crew. After all, a fraction of his code had been written when a part of him had still been organic. He knew something of the bonds of loyalty. The crew, despite their deviation from the clearly laid out plan, were still operating under the Oracle's command. With the military hardware they possessed they also made somewhat useful tools. But there was nothing that could be done for them now. Any attempt at aid would jeopardize the opportunity their distraction had afforded the duo. "Their sacrifice may earn them redemption before the Eye's omnipotent gaze." He stated, assuming the worst but offering a platitude for Tyna's sake. The Eye was not known for its mercy, even in death.

Releasing her shoulder, he turned around and prepared to lead the way again, when his iron-shod foot snagged on something protruding from the dirt. He lowered his visor to stare at what had clipped the toe of his boot and reached down, wrapping his metal fingers around some sort of dirt covered pole. As he pulled the object from the ground, the earth covering it shook loose to reveal a silvered haft. He ran his hand over the length of the haft, rubbing off the remainder of the dirt until the entirety of the object was exposed. In his hands he held a metallic spear, all forged from the same substance based on its appearance, ending in a leaf tipped blade. Imperial gothic script ran the length of the haft and the face of the bladed tip was marked with a familiar Inquisitorial 'I'. Commodore Starkiller examined the spear, holding it before the Oracle before speaking knowingly.

Synthesized Explanation "Impervium, the preferred alloy of Inquisitor Lord Kryptman. This..." He turned the spear over in his grip. "...belonged to him."

There was a time where such knowledge alone would have caused him to snap the metallic spear in half, such had been the rivalry between the Machine Lord and the Warhound. Time had salved that festering hatred; he felt nothing now as he held the spear.

Hoping to make the most of the AT-STs distraction, the warbot did indeed quicken the pace, practically carving a path to match that of the tuk'ata as stalks of long grass bent before his armoured plate. The recovered spear occasionally swept back and forth before his brutish figure, serving as a scythe as its leaf bladed tip mowed down the field obscuring their way. Despite the need for speed, when he heard the Oracle question her command capability, he felt forced to pause to address that particular query. Craning his gore speckled but otherwise immaculate helm around, he flipped up the face plate to reveal his silvered skull, fixing her with his unchanging look at wisps of vented steam hissed from his neck seal and built condensation on his skeletal visage like perspiration dripping from a fleshlings face.

Solemn Synthesized Vow "I would follow you anywhere." And he would. Loyalty was a core component of his programming, even if it only extended to those his software's hierarchy ranked above him. "Do not concern yourself with those beneath you. They are unworthy of your consideration and their pitiful lives are yours to spend as you see fit." Turning his head back around, he pressed forwards again, sweeping grass from their path with long sweeps of the Inquisitor's spear. The decibel of his vocabulator rose as he continued to address her, sharing his thoughts on the matter, putting aside her feelings so that he could impart on her an understanding of how significant her role was. "You are not just the Dread Seer's apprentice, my lady. You are the heir to a legacy greater than any other in the galaxy. Once the Order of the Eye was legion, we controlled a vast empire that dominated countless regions of space. I myself served as overseer of not one but two star systems. Lord Ulric appointed me governor of Ylesia, back before my form consisted solely of pure cybernetics and blessed machine. Later, after I had been purified of all organic weakness, the Warmaster granted me the desolate world of Taivas, where I built a robotic fiefdom free of fleshling taint. Entire planets would bow before our terrible might without a shot ever being fired, such was the fear we instilled in all who beheld our death fleets. We even commanded our own Death Star for a time."

Reminiscing seemed to reinvigorate the Machine Lord as he reflected on the past, his stride getting wider and his step less muffled as his heavy boots pounded the dirt beneath his feet. A gust of wind blew in from the north, causing the warbot's chains to rattle even though bound by spider carcass.

"I must accept the fact that the Warmaster may never awaken, and Lord Kaan's condition has left him incapable of command. Famine cares only for himself and would betray our Order if the Eye had not bound him to its will; his unnatural proclivities will no doubt see him slain one day. Your master, Lord Havok, is able currently but he will not live forever. Perhaps both a curse and a blessing, he spoke once that his prophetic abilities allowed him to see his own death. Should we fail to find the Death Lord intact, it will fall to you serve as keeper of the faith, should you choose to accept your role. The Order is yours to inherit, if you survive long enough to see that day come to fruition. It is a great burden of responsibility, but this unit is sworn to help you carry it until my circuits corrode and my program degrades beyond recovery. Set aside your earthly ties, my lady. They exist solely so that you might reach your intended purpose. The Eye chose you. You are worthy, they are not. They are nothing."


Another ungodly howl sounded in the near distance. This time the Machine Lord's cadaverous eye-bots rose as a single spinning unit, hovering in a rotating circle above his head just over the tops of the grass. To the South was another rocky mound home to a pack of Kryptman's savage pets. Through the visual feed of the probes he watched them drop into the grass and make a beeline towards them. Damnation! Though most likely he had only himself to blame. The three DRK-1s with hannite faces adhered to them dropped back down, but the one with the spider's fanged multi-eyed head remained at its current height, flying out in front of Tyna and Starkiller as it headed in the direction they needed to go.

Synthesized Warning "The tuk'ata have made us. It is unlikely we will be able to out pace them for long, but we must gain as much ground as possible before they draw others of their kind. We run until they are upon us..."

He gave the newly acquired spear a powerful thrust through the air.

Synthesized Eagerness "...and then we fight."

After having hurled the Oracle into the air as she simultaneously leapt, he turned in an instant, spiked gauntlets wrappings themselves around the haft of both Goreguzzler and Butchersbane. Even over the oppressively bright mid day sun that beat down from above, the runes etched into the face of either axe glowed a fierce crimson hue as the darkside sorcery binding each blade responded to the call of battle. A dozen gamorrean war boars had been sacrificed to provide the spiritual energy required to forge the Sith iron, and something of their primitive nature remained, seeming to awaken whenever danger neared. Holding the axes out to his sides as he now back pedaled away from the rushing tuk'ata, the Machine Lord swore his audio receivers could detect the beat of tribal drumming, mixed with porcine chanting carried on the wind. Despite this, his eye-bots with their wider sensor coverage detected nothing that could be responsible for what he was hearing. He ignored it as a glitch.

Two of the beasts emerged from the grass he had cleared, lunging at him in tandem. He dropped to his knees, his spiked grieves sinking into the dirt as he barely sank below the carving tips of their foreclaws. They scraped his shoulder pauldrons as they passed, landing behind him before loping back into the grass so they could turn and attack again. Commodore Starkiller rose back to his feet, turning his helm to the side as he focused his visor on his right spiked shoulder plate, noting a very thin but visible furrow in his previously pristine plate. As his photo-receptors absorbed the imperfection, a resonating whine sounded from deep in his chassis, rising in pitch as his vocabulator snarled in synthetic fury. He turned just as the two creatures came at him again, scalding steam obscuring his darkened helm as his circuits vented. This time they came one at a time, the first emerging out of the grass before attempting to bear the nightmare knight to the ground with another powerful leap. Planting his armoured boots, the warbot braced himself and met the monstrous canine's jaws with his spiked shoulder plate. Bone and metal collided, neither refusing to give way entirely. Dust rose from the dried ground as Starkiller's feet were forced back by the tuk'ata's incredible strength. As it attempted to wrestle him to the ground with its claws, he drove the haft of Butchersbane down on to the top of its scale covered skull, fracturing bone with a sickening crunch. It stumbled back, shacking its head from side to side as birds (which were actually eyebots) danced around its vision.

There was no time for the Machine Lord to celebrate. As the first backed away, the second beast emerged and set at him with a sweep of its claws, swatting Butchersbane from his grip as it spun end over end, before planting itself in the dirt. Commodore Starkiller held up his remaining axe, gripping the haft with both mechanical hands as the tuk'ata snapped at him with its jaws, biting onto the handle. It pulled with its jaws, attempting to wrest the weapon from him as it had the other, but the warbot's grip was iron-clad, unbending and uncompromising. Heaving his helm back, he swung his torso forwards and smashed his metallic head into the tuk'ata's snout, splitting its flesh from nose to eye in a red welter of warm blood. He then tore the handle of Goreguzzler free, shattering several of the canine's dagger sized teeth as he did so. The creature spat blood and yellow bits of teeth, its bleeding snout obscuring its vision until the warbot was nothing but an iron blur. Once more taking his axe in a two handed grip, he raised it high overhead and brought it down blade first into the tuk'ata's skull, burying itself deep in the scaly wolfs brain. Tearing his axe free with a wet squelch of grey matter and bone, he turned towards the remaining beast.

It still had not recovered from the blow to its head. It snarled and snapped its jaws at phantom figures, almost unaware as the Machine Lord walked menacingly towards it. Raising one gore soaked axe in hand, he prepared to finish the creature when something stopped him. As he reached the apex of his swing, he felt a vibration coming from his backplate where he currently had Inquisitor Lord Kryptman's spear magnetically clamped to his backside. Growling at the interruption, he raised his axe once more and prepared to strike when the spear vibrated for a second time. Impossible as it seemed, it was almost as if the spear didn't want him to kill the creature. Well, the Eye's Butcher would not be so easily swayed. This time snarling in synthetic fury, the warbot raised the axe for a third time and struck, kicking up a cloud of dry earth in the process. As the dust settled and his photo-receptors refocused, he saw Goreguzzler buried in the dirt, beside the stunned tuk'ata he seemed unable to strike.

What was this? Why couldn't he strike the beast down? His program registered no errors, no blocks or logical reason for him to be unable to complete the task he had set himself to. Yet, the proof was on display. If something of Kryptman's malign presence remained in the spear, it shouldn't have been able to exert any control over the Machine Lord, especially given his lack of connection to the Force by virtue of being a machine. So what then would be powerful enough to stay the righteous hand of the Eye's executioner...save for the Eye itself.

Ripping his axe from the ground in a shower of earth, he straightened and then walked away from the tuk'ata, bending over to pick up Butchersbane were it had previously fallen. The furious red hue with which they previously glowed had diminished, even so close to the canine that had now settled down on the ground and was lying on its side, snorting as it lay their placidly. Even his mysterious weapons didn't find the creature a threat anymore. Reaching up to his shoulder, the Machine Lord began to unwind the consecrated chain wrapped around his upper body. He had an idea.

---

The edge of the tall grass near the bank of the black river began to shake as something emerged from the green thicket. A snarling tuk'ata leapt out into the open, jaws slathering and claws grinding stone beneath its muscular legs. Mounted atop the large canine's back was the nightmare knight, Commodore Starkiller, mildly scratched but otherwise fine. He carried Kryptman's spear in his hands, using the leaf tipped blade almost as a compass. Wherever he pointed the tip of the spear, that was the direction the repto-canine steed between his metallic legs would follow. Some of the chain the Machine Lord had been carrying was wrapped around the Sith hounds neck like a makeshift leash and reigns. The heels of the warbot's armoured boots dug into the tuk'ata's side and set it to trot towards Tyna, who was hunched down with ID10 on her shoulder, crouched near the opening in the rock. As his newly acquired mount neared the opening, its snout sniffed the air, then it shook its head and refused to go further. A wet piddle sounded as the canine made water on the rocky river side ground and a tremble set in to its scaly flesh.

Synthesized Growl "Cowardly pup." He chastised the tuk'ata, then dismounted. Turning the spear around in his hands so that the blade tip was pointed downwards, he thrust the spear through one of the links of chain and buried it in the ground, effectively tethering the captured canine to its current spot. He then walked closer to stand at Tyna's side. His helm's visor briefly focused on the half melted creature near the river bank. The Oracle's hunt went as well as his own it seemed. Lowering a hand to his waist, he retrieved the soul lantern and held it at the mouth of the den, shining its blue light inside. Even with the lantern's mystic properties, it was hard to see more than a few meters ahead, but it looked as though the cave went some distance into the earth. In the distance, coming from the tall grass from which they had just emerged, he heard more howling as other packs of tuk'ata caught the scent of blood on the wind. One of his eye-bots descended from the air above and tweeted an alarm. "More on the way. At least a dozen are now out stalking the grass planes. We should enter this tunnel you have discovered until things out here have calmed. Even if they manage to track us this far, the mouth of the cave is narrow. They won't be able to come at us more than one at a time."

He detested the idea of hiding, but the scrape to his shoulder plate spoke for itself. These creatures were deadly, even to one such as him, and most certainly to the Oracle.