Deception: Mission Zeta - JH Decarat and KE Aeishline Strathaven
© KAP Aeishline Strathaven, PRT
Decarat
04/03/2004
Death comes in many forms. Disease, famine, murder, or just plain
old age. Death is the last adventure that the human mind can go on. The very
last breath is said to be the sweetest. Many believe that is true. Those people
also believe that the preservation of life is necessary for a civilization to
function. But you will always get anti-socials. People who are so cruel,
twisted, or just plain cold that they don’t care what happens to them, just as
long as any obstacle in their path is gone, destroyed or otherwise.
Decarat was no stranger to death. His father and mother died when he
was barely days old. His long time companion, and friend, Jrath Belon, a woman
of no mean beauty, was killed on a milk run, while he was away on business.
These kinds of memories haunted him, taunting him, judging his actions. His
time was long from nigh, he just believe that Death was ready for him, and will
come in due time. He considers death more than just the final adventure, but
the final glory. To die in battle, beside his brethren, is the highest possible
honor that he could wish for.
‘Decarat, you must concentrate, you must learn, stay focused’ came a
cool female voice from just in front of him. His mistress, Krath Arch-priestess
Aeishline Strathaven, sat cross-legged before him, in
a tight hold, which was a simple Krath technique taught to the apprentices who
still resided in the academy.
‘I am
trying, mistress, but concentration has never been one of my strong points.’
‘But
discipline is one of your strong points, now, you will concentrate, or you will
leave me in peace’
‘Yes
mistress’
A dark
shadow was cast over them. Decarat made a reflexive move to his katana, drawing
it in a split-second, thrusting to within an inch of the shadow’s throat.
‘Decarat,
please, I don’t think that the Consul will enjoy having to replace her
Proconsul because you accidentally separated his head from the rest of his
body’
‘Neither
would the Proconsul’ replied a deep, burly voice from just above where the
katana stopped. Decarat retracted the blade when he recognized the voice, and
grinned.
‘How may
I serve you, Ace? We are meditating’ asked Aeishline, ‘At least, I am, Decarat
is too impatient’ she added as an after thought.
‘Lady
Akaido wishes to see you. You have a mission. Decarat can tag along’
Aeishline
nodded, and turned to Decarat, who was already at his feet, gathering his
katana, and robes.
‘Impatient.
It is going to be the death of you’
The room was simple, and small. It didn’t look like the office of
someone of the power who actually used it. Several bookcases lined the walls,
and a small, polished wood desk sat that the far end. The Consul of Clan
Tarentum sat at her desk, reading over a report on a datapad, which was orange,
meaning it came from the INTEL unit in the region. She looked up as Aeishline
and Decarat approached, and gave them a big smile.
‘Ah, Aeishline, Decarat, please, come and sit. Cookie?’
‘Umm… no thank you, Consul’ replied Aeishline, as she sat in a small
nerf-leather chair. Decarat followed suit, applauded at himself for rejecting
the Consul’s cookies. The Consul placed the datapad aside, and stared them both
in the eyes.
‘What I am about say is to stay between us three, no one else, not
even Ace, or Khaen may know this. Understood’ The pair nodded solemnly. They had been
through this before.
‘Your mission will be to assassinate the ex-Chancellor of the Dark
Brotherhood, Alex Foley. The reason is that he is a
threat to the DB, and to this clan. He has sworn vengeance on the entire DB,
but squarely on Tarentum, because we were one of main contributors to the
request for his removal.’
‘Is
Assassination a feasible solution of this problem?’
‘Yes,
at this moment, he is on the planet of Delpor, in the Karana system. He is
meeting a Light Jedi Master there. You must assassinate him, before the Jedi
can get to him. He will sell our secrets to the Jedi, and we will be in serious
trouble. So I’ve been asked to send a champion and his or her apprentice. So I
picked you, as you are the highest ranking member of Tarentum without a major
position to maintain.’
‘Very
well, Consul. We shall leave at once’
‘Good.
Take care. The armory is at your disposal. And remember, this may just be a
cover for something more sinister. Be ready for anything’
The
pair nodded, and left quickly.
Krath Arch-Priestess smiled as she entered her room. The phoenix sat
on her pipe, looking ashamed at the friend.
‘Yes, I know who got you out of the cage. Now you see, I would let
you fly free on my own. We’re going on a simple mission now, with my student.
Should you go with us, I ask you not to be too audible about it. The whole clan
knows nothing. And it must stay like that.’
With those words, Aeishline opened a small paper-like wardrobe,
arranged in oriental style and put out a silver bomber jacket. There were still
Wing III Commander insignias on it, which she quickly torn off.
‘Lady Rage said the armory is on our service…’
Decarat smiled entering his mistress’s chamber. Seeing her dressed
in combat trousers and boots, dressing up the jacket, he seemed to be
surprised.
‘And I didn’t know you’ve been in the Infiltrator Wing.’
‘Oh, this?’ Aeishline pointed at herself. ‘An old gift from an old
friend’ and she grinned, continuing: ‘You may equip yourself, of course. I
think it would be very good to use some of our new korthosis chest-armors and
some of those nifty knee-thingies. I think I’ll just stay with what I am
wearing at the moment. Never liked anything heavier.’
Decarat nodded and send his mistress a long mysterious gaze.
‘It suits your hair.’ He said and smiled
Her hair was short and green, with lighter silvery sparks. Light of
a few candles set up over the whole chamber gave them even a few maroon
strands.
‘Thank you my dear. However, we’re not going to a beauty contest.
It’s neither going to be a ladder to the Fourth, but... who knows…’ she hanged
her voice and patted her student on his shoulder.
Buying ticket for a star liner, they looked as a couple making their
low cost journey. There were lots of young just married, who were going on
their honeymoon to explore new lands or partake in safaris or fights sponsored
by many companies.
‘Those militaries lovers, they’re odd, don you think so?’
An elder man scanned Decarat and Aeishline when they pretended to
kiss each other for a better effect.
Suddenly the ship shook and light dimmed for a second. From the
speakers flew soft female voice:
‘Passengers, please remain on your seats. The ship has just entered
meteors’ rain. It is very common in this area and completely safe. For better
comfort it is advised to have your safety belts activated.’
Aeishline looked deeply into Decarat’s eyes and whispered: ‘Those
star liner-shooters, they’re odd, don’t you think so?’
Her partner nodded and grinned. ‘I’ll check it, m’lady.’ And he left
the room, sending the old people wry grin.
Decarat felt slightly uncomfortable in his outfit. He wore an old
Tie corps uniform, one that his brother, Archangel, had sent him. It was a bit big, but fit him, and it looks great.
His boots were military in style, and his hair had been cut to a military style
as well. He had left his armor in his luggage, to allow for his disguise to
work without fault.
He walked slowly up a corridor, and into the main battery area. Many
starliner crewmen walked through this area, and ignored him. Any military
personal on board can go anywhere, and Decarat wore the insignia of a Major. He
walked up to the nearest battery station, manned by two men, on obviously of
higher rank, watching another who manned the gun itself. The gun was a
Lascannon, firing 2-meter long bolts of pure energy at the meteors, which would
destroy them instantly. However, one would need to actually hit the meteor
first.
‘Oi! Who are you?’ called the higher-ranking crewman, over the
blasting around them.
‘Major Decarat, and I came to help’
‘Ah, well Major, I don’t think we need help, you see…’
‘Ah, but I think you do, crewman’ Decarat interrupted, and walked
over the firing seat. He removed the other crewman from it, and took it
himself. The meteors were like a haze in the space around the craft. Decarat
took the firing triggers in hand, and began to pick the meteors off one by one.
Archangel had taught Decarat a few things, and along with his Force powers,
he was taking the meteors down quickly.
‘Damn he’s good!’ said the lower-ranking crewman.
Decarat returned to his seat next to Aeishline. He sat down quickly,
and gave her a long kiss on the lips. He grinned at the elderly man, whose face
welled up in jealousy.
‘I guess you had fun then’ Aeishline said as she recovered from the
sudden kiss from Decarat. She beamed at him, her eyes glisining in the lights
of their row.
‘Loads of fun. Now what do we do?’
‘We have to wait until we land I guess.’
‘What do we do till then?’
‘I think I can think of something’ Aeishline replied, with an evil
grin.
Delpor was awaking when the star liner approached its atmosphere.
The sun was just appearing on that side of the planet. Windows blinds hummed
silently and shaded bright light. The ship switched its engines, which was
almost unnoticeable.
Air was way too loose for Aeishline’s likening. Used to sterile gas
flowing onboard the SSSD Sovereign or in Gladius Citadel, she felt strong
headache just after a few minutes after her feet touched the ground.
‘Why the hell did he have to go to such a planet?’
Decarat seemed to be frisky. The atmosphere didn’t harm him at all,
his sight wandered from one building to another, as if he was searching for
something. Searching, or… recalling.
‘You’ve been here before.’
It was rather ascertainment than question. The planet was
not in EH official register. System Manual pointed only to 4 planets of Karana.
Delpor was the fifth one, lying farthest from its sun. Nevertheless, its
climate was mild- warm and a bit moist, perfect for vacation.
‘Yes, Karana’s been the Infiltrator Wing’s home. I was sent here
with a mission once or twice, assisting my brother. Everybody knows that it’s
the holiday planet for a few IW higher officers…’
Young Protector was hiding something from his Mistress and she
knew it. But listening about ‘IW higher officers’ she cursed silently and
turned her head in the nearest office’s side.
‘I think we should go and show somebody our documents.’
A pile of handkerchiefs lay on a bed. Sneezes one after another
could be heard from Aeishline’s room. Its cleanliness could be discussed, paint
was almost moving on its own, mould lay in corners. And of course covered the
whole bathroom’s ceiling.
‘Eww… There is no way now for me to sleep in another room. Here we
can defend together from the ‘nature’.’
Decarat smirked and hugged his Mistress, who chose that moment for
another portion of sneezing. She took a few deep breaths and looked deeply into
her apprentice’s eyes.
‘Now focus. No, not there-’ She stuck her tongue out at Decarat,
gently moving his chin up. ‘I want you to learn something new now. As I said,
focus on the flow of the Force between you and me.’
Air in the room got a bit drier than usual. Arch-Priestess could
feel as the thread of connection between her and her Student was becoming
stronger with every second. ‘Now…’ she thought and used telepathy to
communicate with Decarat. Suddenly the connection torn almost completely,
making the young Protector jump.
‘What was that?’
He felt a little bit ashamed, but also excited.
‘Oh… sorry. Let me try now, ok?’
Aeishline smiled gently and tapped Decarat’s shoulder.
‘Nope, it’s a one direction lesson at the moment. You have to
learn it perfectly. Don’t feel sorry, as for the first trial, it’s very well.
Now, let’s try again. Do not counter what I want to project. Focus on the
special pattern of my thoughts. Open to them. Later we’ll try to block it, but
first you need to hear me when I cannot speak. Some things must not be told
loudly.’
He felt completely exhausted. His arms felt limp at his sides, and
his legs could barely hold his own weight. His mistress had been pushing him to
train, to make the connection hold. The connection, designed to connect him
with his mistress, with a personal link, for both communication, and awareness,
drained him immensely. He sat in an armchair in at the side of their room. He
looked out the window, at the rolling hills that spread out around the city
that they had found their lodging in.
‘Right, time to leave.’
Said Aeishline, patting her emerald hair into a suitable form of
neatness. Decarat stared at her with a pleading look on his face. She smiled,
and patted him on the head.
‘You will get your rest soon, my apprentice, but not now. Now is
the time to do some reconnaissance on the hotel where the traitor is currently
staying.’
‘Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t joined the Dark Brotherhood. Then I
remember I have you as my mistress, and I regret wishing what I had wished’
He replied, quickly getting to his feet, a second wind of energy
assisting him. He followed his mistress closely out of the door, and resumed
their roles in their deception, with her arm slung through his, and her eyes
wide, and watching everything.
They walked down the main shopping plaza of the city, glancing
through small kiosks, and cafes. Aeishline would go into a clothing store,
while Decarat waited outside, not for a look out, but because he got uneasy
when confronted with rows and rows of women’s underwear. They made their way
towards the Piatza del Tolro, the most expensive, luxurious hotel on the
planet.
‘The traitor obviously still has much kept away in a safe place.’
Decarat thought as Aeishline tugged him towards another clothing
store.
‘But why would he choose such a big, obvious place to stay?’
Suddenly Aeishline’s voice entered his head, almost making him
jump with surprise. He hadn’t realized that they had their connection still.
‘Perhaps he believes that we
wouldn’t be looking for him so soon?’
Decarat replied silently, as he watched a travel holo aimlessly.
‘We shall see. You are getting better at this. Just stop flinching
when I speak.’
She replied. Even her thoughts had a bite of humor in them.
‘I don’t flinch! I have an itch, that’s all!’
He replied, feeling a bit self-aware. He straightened his jacket,
and took Aeishline’s arm again, and walked up towards the hotel.
‘Into the Gauntlet we ride, death will seek us out…’
‘Oh be quiet, Dec.’
After a day spent on acclimatization and training telepathy with
her student, Aeishline was uneasy on Foley’s behalf. Loyal to her Consul,
Arch-Priestess wouldn’t hesitate to kill the suspect. However there was
something in the air… Infiltrator Wing’s spa and the Light Side together didn’t
make greatest combination. Pressing her temples, she closed stormy, violet eyes.
Concentrating, she felt blood circulating all over her body, her tattoos, gifts
from her phoenix friend, started itching.
These remarks were engraved long ago, when she served n the Wing
III as a squadron commander. On a mission in which the whole Sovereign took
part, they encounter odd planet, called later Salamandrina. That’s where the friendship between a human
and a phoenix began. It was said that to see a phoenix is to see death. And
indeed, Strathaven thought that as well when the firebird scratched with its
claws into her face, screaming so loudly that it took several days to restore
Aeishline’s hearing fully. When the medical crew finished taking care of her,
on her face appeared deep green tattoos. The meaning was known only to the
bird… and its prey.
Signs itch or burn every time when the Dark Side is flowing
through her. But it can be controlled and suppressed.
She opened the balcony and breathed in some fresh air, enjoying
the last sunrays that day. Suddenly, something focused her attention. A glimpse
of white strip among white hair. Looking more precisely, Aeishline ensured who
the person was. Observed her for a moment longer and got back to the filthy
room.
‘Just guess whom I met.’
Decarat seemed puzzled. He could sense something surprised his
Mistress, but the Force thread was very gentle, not revealing too much. He turned away from the datapad. Blue glow
shining on his face was disturbing. He was only listening to her in one half,
focusing the rest of his attention to a letter he’d just received.
‘I hope you secured the connection.’
‘Umm... yes. And.. Who was it?’
They both now glared at the datapad screen. Message’s headline
blinked red, top priority from Castle Tarentum.
‘Check the message first, Dec.’
While reading through Akaido’s letter, they heard some movement near
the door. While the Protector was erasing the message and hiding quickly the
datapad, Aeishline activated her lightsabre. Waited a moment and pulled the
door, which caused series of blaster shots. Using the Force she tried to push
any opponents to the opposite door, but it failed, as she had no idea where
they were standing before. Decarat was fast enough to grab his katana and parry
a few energy bolts. Aeishline focused on the Dark Side and jumped out of the room,
using her lightsabre as a shield, parrying and shooting up blasters’ streams. A
few of them hit a man, whose insides burned, leaving stink of dead meat.
Suddenly, when both the Mistress and her Apprentice prepared to
another movement, which would decapitate a few of the assassins, came a loud,
shouting voice:
‘Hold your fire! I say! Hold your fire!’
Until then 3 of 6 opponents were lying dead on the hotel floor.
None of the guests came out of their rooms to see what was going out. They
valued their life too much to found themselves in plastic bags by chance.
Everything sank into silence for a while, when Decarat touched the
shouting man’s throat with his sword’s blade.
‘Geez, frikkin’ Sith here as well!’
‘You say one more word not asked, and my friend will make you
smile from one of your ears to another.’
The man swallowed loudly and nodded quickly. Ordered the
remainders of his company to get into the room, and, led by Decarat, followed
them.
Aeishline awaited Decarat in the foyer of the hotel that they were
staying in. Well, it wasn’t really a foyer; it was really just the area between
the doors and the stairs. She turned as he approached, and frowned at Decarat’s
grim expression.
‘Did you get anything out of them?’ she asked, brushing a few strands
of her emerald hair out of her face.
‘I got plenty. I just wish that they wouldn’t have fainted so
quickly’
‘A pity. I assume they are alive, and tied up?’
‘Of course. I have a code to follow. I do not kill the prone.’
‘Good. What do you have?’
Decarat produced a small handful of items out of his pocket.
‘Keycards, Ids, some creds… nothing that is really that
important.’
‘Wait… let me see that cred’
Decarat handed Aeishline the credit. She held it up near her face,
so that she could see it’s intricate patterns more closely. A sudden flash of
realization crossed her face.
‘This isn’t a cred,’ she said finally, ‘It is a key card’
‘Odd. But where is it for?’
Aeishline just looked out the doors, to the Piatza del Tolro.
Decarat followed her gaze, and grinned.
Decarat felt strange in the clothes that Aeishline had given him.
He wore long, white pants, which constricted his legs. He far preferred his
Sith Robes, because they gave him room, and he liked the airy feeling. The blue
silk shirt that he wore irritated his skin, and made him feel uncomfortable.
But he just let these go. They were feelings, and they would not be needed
until later.
Aeishline however looked quite at home in her new attire. She wore
her emerald hair in a small crop at the back. Her long white evening gown
flowed around her. It had a long slit, which rose almost half way up her thigh.
The slit kept men interested, but didn’t reveal anything. She grinned as she
twirled around in place.
‘Are you ready, mistress?’
‘Yes. And don’t call me mistress when we are inside. We don’t know
how they will react to it. Just call me Aeishline.’
‘Very well, mis… Aeishline.’
‘Good. Now, we must leave for the Piatza.’
Decarat nodded, and followed his mistress out.
The Piatza’s foyer was far superior to that of the hotel in which
the mistress and apprentice had stayed. Its elegant wall features flowed, and
changed, and moved like the waves of a water world. Its carpets were of
burgundy, rich with royal blue, and golden decorative patterns. A porter
greeted them.
‘Good evening madam, sir. How may we help you?’ he asked in a very
aristocratic tone.
‘We have a room. Here is our key card. Now remove yourself from my
sight, before I get my husband here to show you why he is a General in the
Imperial Army’ Aeishline sneered at the porter, nodding to Decarat, who stood
at his full height, his fake military honors displayed in their full glory on
his chest. They shone brightly, especially after Decarat had, absentmindedly,
polished each one a total of 7 times each.
The porter flinched, and bowed, taking hint, and stepped out of
the way, admitting the pair to the lifts beyond. They stepped gracefully into
the nearest lift, and allowed it to scan their key card. The lift came alive
around them, and rose quickly.
‘So far, so good, mistress’
‘Aeishline
damnit.’
‘Yes, Aeishline.’
Entering the room, the Arch-Priestess felt as if all her hair stood
at attention. She couldn’t sense anything which could cause such a state, so
she focused all her attention on her Apprentice.
‘We shouldn’t have come here.’
She heard her voice, calm as usual, but she didn’t remember saying
anything. Looking at the Protector, she Aeishline knew he thought it was a bad
idea to steal the card. Trying to contact telepathically with him, she felt
horrible headache.
Decarat unplugged a blaster from its holster and aimed at the
woman.
‘I am sorry, mistress, but we have to say good bye now…’
Nodding was all she could afford on. Smell of root spice filled
the room, she enjoyed it and all she wanted at that moment was to be able to
feel it for ever.
‘Why… why are you not defending yourself?’
Decarat seemed a bit puzzled. While he moved his finger to press
the trigger, his mistress as if awoke from a strange dream. She dodged the blaster
bolt, moving to the left, and then appearing quickly behind the young Jedi.
‘I see we both are unable to think on our own. Now, sorry my dear,
but you may be an obstacle only…’
With those words she pushed him on a coach, summoning the Force
and channeling it into Decarat’s direction, placing him in the hibernation-like
state.
Just a second later, her lightsabre, ignited, waited for the
opponent’s move. The Arch-Priestess finally got rid of strange influence on her
thoughts, standing completely awaken and united with the Force.
Closing her eyes, she could feel from which side strong threads of
the Dark Side were flowing. She ran through the whole room, removing
surrounding light from around herself.
‘So here we have our little betrayal….’ Crossed her mind. ‘Rage must have known about it…’
Closing her mind before the enemy, she started preparing to draw
Force out of a possible opponent. She was aware that she shouldn’t be using
such a power, but circumstances… Plus
the Arch-Priestess knew whom she could
meet on her way…
‘Now your master will not help
you…’ whispered while passing through
the door to another chamber.
‘You will not take it, even if you’d like to very, very much.’
Tirna Q’Jira appeared behind her master. She was handing some bundle
in her arms, hey eyes scared and mad.
The Krath High Priest smirked evilly, raising his hands in a
sinister gesture that didn’t tell anything good.
‘Foley tried that too, and he ended up in a very, very bad way,
Priestess Strathaven.’
Arcanos’s voice was as usual hostile. From behind his back a loud
baby cry could be heard. Aeishline blinked and started laughing. Her lightsabre
still ignited, was lowered to a non offensive position.
‘What? You thought I’d like to take that baby from you? Now it should
be placed in some cabaret…’
Both, the Chancellor and the High Priest seemed as if they were
kicked out of game, not knowing what was happening.
‘Anyway, what happened to Foley?’
‘He died.’
The answer was barked. Strathaven turned around and got back to
her student, awaking him from the trance.
‘Let’s go, we’re going home…’
| | 
