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Snake

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  1. Slithering quickly along the relatively vacant and muggishly warm corridors, Snake curled his way around corners, leaving deep heavy grooves in the thick carpeting of the Neimoidian’s luxury yacht all the way back to the tightly cramped engineering bay. Deep within his belly a familiar longing grumbled, hunger, physical hunger. It had been some time since Snake had feasted on the flesh of prey. He had expended energy several times hunting and even killing without having the choice or chance to absorb the energy of his foes in death to sustain his own life. That hunger mixed with his hunger for lordship over all that he laid eyes upon. Together, they made him nigh unstoppable. In this moment, however, there was no prey to be had. Nok Morliss was of too much use yet to be devoured; and the skeletal undead was clearly of some use to his ride yet. It was of little worry for the massive serpent; he had gone longer without nourishment. All he had to do now was lie in wait. Rounding the last bend, Snake descended downward into the dimly lit and even warmer compartment that housed the technologically advanced engine and hyperdrive; though the technological superiority of the ship’s drives was lost on the primitive mind of Snake. What he did know was that the dull warmth that the engines gave off, even in the heavy air was comforting and allowed him to relax and conserve even more energy. Encircling his massive length about the engine, Snake settled into the dimness to await a time to go forth and hunt. There, he closed his transparent eyelids and fell asleep; though to the frightened observer that might stumble on him it would be hard to tell even that. Snake lay there for untold hours as his body conserved energies and his mind whirled in the deepest untouched wild recesses of his subconscious. There was no time to be told in this berth. No sun, moon, or clock to tick away the passing of the time. It was there in these recesses that Snake’s mind mingled along the thinnest veil that separated his own being from the very purity of the dark side of the force; a force that he did not know even existed. Snake was not bound by ages of tradition and tomes, by religions and rituals. In that, he could lay bare the truth of the dark side, all he had to do was embrace it. From that swirling of dark omens and signs, Snake awoke abruptly. His body felt as it was enflamed. Every inch of his scaly form burned with invisible hellfire that seeped between his interlocking armored scales. His eye, wounded in the fight had swollen nearly shut, turning his sleek angular head into a visage of warped freak show inducing terror. From his lipless mouth and slitted nose, ran rivers of saliva and phlegm, bubbling and gargling with each raspy breath the venomous apex predator drew. To this, Snake awoke; his mind awash with a pang of fright as his mind cried for air. Deep wide-open mouthed gulps of air helped sate the desire in that moment, but each breath was labored and drew the precious energy that Snake desired to conserve for the hunt. What matter of attack is this? He thought, wordlessly, swinging his massive head back in forth, looking for the strange attacker that he knew had to be trying to kill him in his sleep. He could find nothing and no one. Even in his pain and suffering, Snake deftly uncoiled himself, his fogged mind set on one single desire. He would find the inflictor of this suffering and vanquish this attack and the attacker. No one dared to attack Snake and lived. He could find nothing, no one but a single miniscule mechanized droid that was deftly crushed beneath his massive coils, in the engineering hold. With each thrash of his body, Snake could feel the cold grip of death tightening its fists about his lungs and heart. In a fury of rage, Snake thrashed about, mentally sending out his threat across the waves of the force, darkened by his anger at that which hid from him and dared to challenge his authority, I will find you! I will destroy you! You cannot escape me! In my belly will you find rest! In my maw, death! He did not care who could hear his cries. He would have his victory over this treacherous attacker.
  2. Snake surged forward from the plume of toxic spores and dust billowing up from his fall and coalescing into one with the sickly yellow fog. With his maw wide, blood streaking down his face from his eye, cutting a swath through the dirt, the massive predator pressed the attack. There before him the kneeling skeleton held his hands outstretched; a sight Snake had seen before as his helpless prey begged for mercy from him, their pending doom, or from whatever deity they called upon. Even then, Snake felt a stirring he could not explain as he charged. The stirring pushed forth from the skeleton a mere moment before an invisible wave permeated through the air, brushing by the fog as if it did not even exist, before slamming into his body. The blow was unexpected, but gave Snake no pause and little thought. He simply chalked the strange move up to being another of the reasons Nok Morliss had brought him here to hunt. Shrugging off the invisible wave that the cowardly undead had clearly thought would stop the legless maw of hunger, Snake twisted his body, lunging the final short distance as his wide open mouth hurtled through the air, twisting to catch the arm-outstretched being about the chest. Then he bit down. His massive maw slammed around both sides of the Givin’s chest. He felt the crunch of bone beneath his jaws and felt his fangs rake along the cracking exoskeleton until they locked around his back, cementing his position of power. From there, all Snake had to do was thrash about, spinning Ficcabin Yule through the air, back and forth, slamming his legs and head into the ground repeatedly until all that was left was a cracked mass of blood oozing bones clenched in the near-durasteel strength clasp of a serpent’s jaw. Only then as Snake felt the emotions and fight wane from his prey’s body, did he stop. He deposited the body on the ground. It was still breathing. Excellent. He was pleased with himself. The battle had hardly been a challenge at all. Now that he had done what he had been brought here for, it was time to retreat to the ship and deposit his prize somewhere where Nok Morliss would find it. Expertly wrapping the skeletal being between his thick muscled coils, Snake slithered back towards the luxury liner, his prize safely squeezed in his grasp. Back at the ship, Snake did not even bother to make a subtle secretive entrance. The few droids that he encountered easily recognized the escapee and thought wiser than to press the discussion. Snake’s practically palpable dark fire of victory radiated about him. Up the gangplank, Snake drug Ficcabin upwards into the ship. The air here was no cleaner than it was outside. Clearly the results of the skeleton’s destruction. Aboard the ship, Snake paused. Where should I imprison this worthless life form? He pondered to himself for a moment before a sick smile twisted across his face. Youngling on Kuat read stories of a young girl wandering the woods when she stumbled upon a home inhabited by three large furry beasts. The youngling tried their food, sat in their chairs, and even slept in their beds. He had heard the story countless times as he positioned himself unknowingly in the houses of those who thought they were untouchable on Kuat. Snake knew a bed that was ‘just right.’ Dragging the body of Ficcabin Yule forward, down the thickly rich hallways of the ship, he made his way back towards Nok Morliss’ bedroom. There, even in the disrupted state that it was, Snake deposited the body on the mangled bed linens. His prey lay there unmoving, save for his ragged breathing and oozing blood. Then, he slithered off. The rest of this problem belonged to Nok Morliss. He had done his job. Once he regained his makeshift nest in the engineering bay, Snake reached deep within, grasping the inner darkness and he grasped it and used it, reaching out, trying to find Nok Morliss, broadcasting a wordless message through the air in all directions, hoping that the cowardly green worm had the power to hear him. Nok Morliss, I have reclaimed that which you brought me to hunt. Let us leave this accursed world. ((I'm gonna have the spores hit him in a post or two))
  3. The satisfying crunch of bone between Snake’s jaws paled in comparison to the warm metallic-tasting blood that splattered in the serpent’s maw. Snake knew, there, in that moment, that victory was his. This skeletal being, who appeared to be the walking dead amongst the long fallen, was nothing more than flesh and bone. Flesh and bone were Snake’s specialty. As the blood washed over his forked tongue, Snake thrashed his head back and forth with a sense of glee; happiness in the thrill of the climax hunt, the strike. All of this paled, however, to the wave of emotion that washed over Snake’s taste buds and mind, radiating out from the foe clenched firmly in his own mouth. Fear! He could taste the sickly sweetness of it like an elegant desert. The subtle swirls of fearful dark desire mixed with the strong blunting fear of death. They were different in their subtleties, only to those who had dedicated their lives to the study of the flavors of fear. All of it was carefully enveloped in a crisp buttery cocoon of fear-based resistance and covered in the metallic frosting of blood. It would be easy to become lost in this overwhelming smorgasbord of fear, had Snake had more than one bite that was still actively thrashing to escape him. In truth, the massive predator enjoyed few things quite as much as sitting and digesting the aromas and flavors of his victims’ fears whilst he slowly digested the still living paralyzed being deep in his constricting stomach. Such a desire was not to be. This mere skeleton-looking being, still had a purpose. Nok Morliss had brought him to hunt it for reasons unknown. Perhaps when the pitiful greenling was done with it could Snake crush the bony shell and drink the fear-filled entrails. . . As the he thrashed his head back and forth, in an effort to do even more damage, his acute senses and lidless eye sensed the movement of the same bony spear point that had raked his body already plunging towards his eye. Had the serpentine predator been one to wax poetically, he may have mused on the irony that his last foe had been left sightless by the sting of his fangs and now this foe sought to return the favor. He was, however, a wordless predator not a pompous philosopher, so no such thought passed through his mind to give him pause. Instead, he reacted without thought. The viper’s mind had the sole focus of conquest in the hunt. Instinctually, as he thrashed back and forth, Snake tossed his head backwards in an effort to change the momentum of the incoming jagged bone. He reared upwards into the air from the ground in a spray of dust and dirt, opening his jaw in a spray of bloody mist and releasing the soon-to-be-battered corpse of his foe at the height of momentum, as his body careened over backwards; twisting in an effort to avoid losing sight of his foe. Warm blood trickled from the corner of his slotted eye where the bone had caught him, running down to mingle with that which remained on his lipless maw, the pain stirring the beast into a further frenzy of hunger and destruction. ((3))
  4. Sailing forth, Snake’s maw wide in anticipation of crushing the bony being between his powerful jaws; he could taste the fear, the absolute terror. He relished it. It was the same for any who had stood in his way before. To the serpent it was a clear sign of domination that any would fear his primordial ancient form. Then, however, the skeletal being did something completely unexpected for such a supposedly dangerous foe, he collapsed. The fear had so easily overcome his two legged prey, it shocked Snake, as his body sailed upwards and over top of the fallen man; all 15 feet of compact muscle, scale, and draconic darkness. He did not even have time to look back, as he felt the jagged scraping and scratching of the makeshift bony weapon screeching against his scales, gouging a bright blue serrated blue path along his scaly dark blue underside. With a twist of his body, to lock his foe back in his sight, Snake crashed to the ground, his unblinking eyes staring daggers of bottomless hunger and domination at his foe. The momentum of his leap ground him against the dirt and sand, plowing a dune against his backside as he slid to a thundering halt that echoed through the still foggy air. One of his jagged scaled that had been marred by the bone wielding skeleton slipped free. He left it lying in the soil. He did not have time to stop or worry about a meager scratch. Now was the time to strike. It was time to end this combat before his cowardly prey got any more bright ideas; like that blaster Snake saw nestled at his hip. With an open mouthed hissing snarl, Snake lunged forward at his supine foe; his body twisting across the earth in a jagged lighting back-and-forth. Here, in this moment Snake was the master, the monster of nightmares surging forth to devour his prey. All he needed to do was . . . *SNAP SNAP SNAP* His fangs slashed downwards as his mouth slammed open and closed repeatedly, seeking a foothold, quite literally a foot to hold and crush, to begin the not-quite lethal incapacitation of the skeleton Nok Morliss had brought him to hunt. Abandon all hope. You. Are. Mine. ((2))
  5. Snake recoiled as his drop of venom splattered on the table, his candy red eyes glowing in the dark of the ventilation shaft as he retreated so as to shroud himself in the warm drafting currents of darkness. There, he could still see some of the room. It was not like the skeletal being could escape as it was. He was watching and the being had apparently sealed himself in against Nok Morliss’ pitiful mechanized terrors. Suddenly, the dull roar of emergency alerts began to echo throughout the ship and down the ventilation shaft that Snake’s massive corded form was hidden in. A sudden gust of warm air roared into and around the serpent for a moment until the howling ventilation system that was pumping suppressant to the supposedly enflamed areas closed off their inner hinged doors to direct the suppressant and to prevent the spread of any potential flames through the shafts. Then, suddenly, the air was completely still, and Snake’s opaque eyelids were able to flick back to reveal his glowing eyes once more. Below, it appeared that the skeletal being was more intelligent than first suggested as he somehow managed to send the window crashing to the surface below, allowing the yellowish fog to begin wafting inwards into the room with the ventilation system unable to compensate as it was otherwise distracted. As his prey scurried out the window, Snake’s anger surged, NO! You will not escape me! his wordless thoughts screeched as he lunged forward, forcing the vent upend and crashing his entire 15 foot form to the carpeted floor below, crushing the computer and desk that had been beneath the vent beneath his hulking muscled coils. Surging forward, the serpent chased after the quickly escaping limbed being, his head carrying him through the open window as his muscled body lowered him as far down as he could before dropping the rest of the way to the surface, sending up plumed of spores and dust. But that did not stop him, as soon as he was on the ground; his belly was twisting and winding its way through the sands, surging forward in a powerful burst of speed that came from eons of evolution to be able to outpace most running prey. Within moments, he could see the form of the robe skeleton ahead of him, dimly visible through the haze of yellow all around them. He pressed onwards still, all sense of stealth gone as his body hissed against the sand and bits of jutting bones, sending pops and bursts of spores into the air. When he was close enough, the thickly blue glinting scaled terror slowed minusculy so he could collectively compile himself before launching his form into the air in a single surging airborne strike, his maw open, fangs bared, hunger and hatred radiating from his body. You shall not escape me! His mind called forth on the silent waves of the force in wordless emotions, Surrender or I will destroy your pitiful form! ((1))
  6. Just as Snake began to slither forth into the cesspit of a dead world following the droids, he was taken aback, when all but two of the droids turned and began to rush back inside. The great serpent did not like the droids, nor did he know if the droids would like him. With a flick of his tail, Snake whipped around. An advantage to being a single cord of muscle wrapped about conjoined spinal bones was his enhanced ability to change directions. His scaled hissing over the metal gangplank, Snake swished his entire body twice and vanished back into the elegant, overly warm vessel. In the entry, Snake coiled, his every muscle tensing and pushing in tandem, propelling him upwards into the air towards the jagged maw of a hole he had gnashed through the ventilation duct. Truly a fearsome sight to behold, a red eyed, fanged serpent, his dark blue scales glittering in the expensive light of the ship, before his upper body lanced into the darkness of the duct. His body quickly pulled the remainder of his body and tail upwards out of sight just as the droid’s made the entrance. He paid no attention though. Excitement. He felt it in his very core. His tongue lashed the constantly swirling air of the duct, tasting for the unknown. Bits of the atmosphere from outside that had not been scrubbed away, particles of food, tastes of Nok Morliss, his fear still palpable on the cells wafting in the air, and finally, a new scent, the scent of the skeletal being, It must be him! Snake could taste the presence of the intruder, even as the new presence began to faintly swirl through the ship. Unrecognized by scrubbers, uninhibited by filters, the scent was not lost by the slit-nosed, slit-eyed, fork-tongued draconic wyrm that snaked through the ventilation system of the luxurious vessel. Even if he did not know what the force was, Snake did know that he was supreme, and that supremacy led him down the pitch black pathways, slotted occasionally by bits of light that splayed through grates where air entered and exited the shafts. From time to time, the venomous serpent could hear the clanging of the droid’s feet out of sight. Another assurance of his supremely guided will. Within minutes, he found himself staring out of a vent, down upon another ornately decorated room. This one however was different in one key aspect. There, almost directly below him stood the skeletal being, pouring over a shimmering holoscreen; something Snake never understood or bothered with. It did not good in helping him rule. If it kept the undead creature placated for the moment, Snake was content to watch and wait. Nok Morliss would return soon and then, if he desired, would have his way with this strange being that he, the Nightmare of Kuat, had hunted and found. If the skeleton-man proved too much for Nok Morliss, Snake would happily destroy the being to ensure his continued quest to domination. The very thoughts of engaging such a foreign and clearly powerful foe, made Snake’s entire body ache with a hungering desire of excitement; an excitement that caused his blood to pulse and the venom to flow freely. Watching from his hidden perch, Snake hungered to strike. His maw was open, his tongue testing the air, and a single drop of blackened venom pooled at the end of one of his fangs. Then it fell, dripping to the edge of the grate and tumbling downwards, a single perfectly spherical droplet before it splattered to the tabletop besides the holocomputer the skeleton was working on. *SPLAT!*
  7. In the pitch blackness of the ship’s ventilation system, Snake crept onwards with confidence. His tongue lashed the circulating air. Even his joy was palpable. Moving along, Snake made his way along the route he knew would carry him to the slotted ‘viewport’ that overlooked the entryway area of the luxurious vessel; a nest befitting a king. A nest that Snake still could not understand how Nok Morliss had come to control it. Now all he had to do was wait. By his predatory senses, the undead being should be entering momentarily. It was then, however, that things took an unexpected turn. The sound of metal feet whump whumping down the carpeted hall was followed by the appearance of several skeletal type droids that Snake knew to be tasteless shock-inducing wanna-be killers that failed horrendously on the last of those descriptors. The venomous creature’s forked tongue rubbed heavily against the ribbed top of his mouth as he remembered the last time he had split one of those spindly droids in half between his unhinged crushing jaws. Klaxons began to blare and red lights bathed the corridors of the vessel in their candy bloodied glow. Automatically, the ship sent out notifications to all nearby transceivers alerting their holders to the fact that intruders were within a set proximity of the ship and security forces were moving to engage. Snake was not pleased by this situation, his joy turned to disappointment. He hoped that the skeleton would be able to handle the spindly mechanized mass-murderers. If he could, maybe he would be a half-way worthy challenger. If not, why would Snake even bother? Why? The answer saddened and excited Snake. Even if the skeletal being was no match for him, Snake knew that Nok Morliss needed the bony being alive for whatever machinations he had. With an angry hiss of rage, Snake’s head, enshrouded in a bubble of Force-based energy slammed into the ventilation grate, sending it clattering to the ground. The clatter lost amongst the blaring klaxons and the heavy thudding of coils as they fell one by one from the hole in the vent to the carpeted floor. Raising his head upwards, Snake’s tongue lashed the air as his blinkingless eyes scanned the acid yellow air seeping into the ship, All he would have to do is follow the droids. Follow them and stop them.
  8. Nothingness. Nothingness as far as the eye could see; which in this case, was not that far. Snake’s elongated body swam through the sand as easily and smoothly as a rope drug through calm waters. The only difference with this was that the wake he left as rumples in the sand remained after he passed. In the acidic air, Snake’s tongue continued to lash the stillness, seeking out anything out of the ordinary on this anything but ordinary world. Where was Nok Morliss? He is surely dead by now. His kind were not made to survive the wilds. A low rumble filled the air for a moment. The serpent instantly recognized the sound. Ships landed and took off from his homeworld of Kuat all the time. This sound was a ship and it was landing. Nok Morliss had not departed, but someone had arrived. Lost in the swirling fogs and mists, someone or something had arrived. Was this that which was to be hunted? Soon enough, Snake found himself traversing from the empty sands of Garn punctuated by sharp crags of angled stone into an open field of sand punctured instead by jutting bones and half buried skulls. Snake paused, taking in the smells and sight of the barren field of death. Here, even death was palpable. Snake enjoyed the taste of death, aged and static as it was. Carefully, he began to slither forwards again; his trunked body slinking left and right around the protrusions of ancient bones. Even amongst the death, there was something else here. Snake could not only sense it, but he could hear it. POP. HISS. POP. HISS. What is that? Cautiously, Snake crept forward, his body sinking into the sands as it weaved back and forth. Whatever was here, he wound find it. POP. HISS. His body brushed by one of the bones and his body lurched back in startled shock at the bursting of a spore sack spewing forth its seeds into the air. This world was barren but still presented dangers aplenty. Dangers that Snake would come to rule over in time. As he continued onwards, carefully and quietly, his body occasionally brushed over a spore sack sending a pop and hiss echoing through the deathly stillness. There it was, somewhere in the cloudy yellow, Snake could feel it; he could taste it, fresh and live. FEAR! Fresh fear, not the fear of the long dead. Whatever walked here amongst the bones still lived. For now . . . And then he saw it. Stumbling and winding through the bones, radiating worrisome fear, was something Snake had never seen, something that Snake had never seen before. Something he had not thought was possible. Amongst the long dead bodies covered in fuzzy growths walked a single upright skeletal being. Upon this world, it seemed, the dead walked in life. Nok Morliss was wise to have brought me to this world. He will not survive. Most assuredly, this is what Nok Morliss came to hunt, the power of life over death. A power even he, Snake, did not have . . . yet. Perhaps Nok Morliss will still be of some use after this. Carefully, with long practiced twists of his massive body, Snake vanished beneath the sand; buried by the long dead soil. There, just beneath the surface, only his eyes and the top of his triangular head visible beneath the fog, Snake began to creep forward. The moment had come, Snake transitioned from searching and hunting to stalking his prey. Quietly, cautiously, Snake crept closer and closer to the skeletal creature picking its way forward. There, in the distance, against the backdrop of fog, materialized the outline of Nok Morliss’ ship, The Bleeding Edge. Beneath the sands, Snake’s lipless mouth crept upwards into a smile. The beast was walking right into Snake’s newfound lair. All he had to do was keep him there for Nok Morliss to do with it as he pleased. And if Nok Morliss was not enough, as he assuredly would not be, Snake would be there to deliver the final strike. Sinking beneath the sands, Snake slithered underground; bumping into the buried bits of bones, causing spores to pop and hiss seemingly at random releasing their toxic spawn into the air. Snake made his way towards the ship, his body angling away from the skeleton, but his mind following the tasty signature of fear. Yes, it will be mine . . . Carefully, quickly, and quietly, Snake returned to the open vent beneath the ship he had used to enter The Bleeding Edge once before. Bursting from the sand and disappearing down the shaft in a single leap; Snake’s body flashed a glint of deep dark blue before the nearly 15 feet of serpent vanished into the depths of the ship. Here, within the bowels of the craft, Snake would watch and wait. As the Givin came aboard, Snake’s joy was palpable in the air, You will be mine, his mind hissed with the wordless desire, subconsciously projecting the thought out into the ether by way of The Force.
  9. Winding his way through the chokingly thick fog, Snake’s shimmering leathery scales carved a furrow through the broken rock and ashy soil. The massive serpent’s tongue thrashed the air with every twist of his hulking form. His sidewinding motion catapulted Snake’s body forward at an unnatural stealthy speed. Every flick of his tongue contributed to his growing frustration. Whatever it was they hunted seemed to elude him, even as Nok and his duo had long since vanished from sight. The swirling fog and numerous solitary dead trees all began to look alike and Snake, though he would never admit it, was lost. All he could taste was the putridness of aged ancient death and something sulfuric he could not quite put his mind to; something that was as old as the air itself and as mysterious as this world was different from Kuat. Pressing onwards, Snake’s eyes darted from side to side, his tongue raked the air, and his mind reached out; every sense he had was tensed and alert, ready to strike as soon as he could find a target. He would not call for help. He would not face defeat. He would not fall on this accursed planet. He would arise from tis foggy hellscape a victorious master deity of yet another world. If only he could find this accursed ancientness that the green two-legged coward needed his help for. If Snake struggled to find it, there was no hope for Nok Morliss.
  10. Snake’s head raised upwards until it was at a level where he was face to face with the eyeless Nok. His tongue flicked out across the scarred face of the Neimoidian as his lipless mouth twisted into a sickening evil smile. I can feel it. It is old. I shall enjoy devouring it. You can seek your knowledge and power. If you leave me here, I shall become the master of this world as well. Then I will seek you across the stars and destroy you. Betray me at your own risk. I am a fearsome predator. You are not. Let us see who finds this As the Neimoidian and his entourage set forth, the lengthy serpent settled to the jagged surface and set off in nearly the opposite direction, intent on circling about a distance behind and angled away from the others. Whatever voice was calling through the fog not to their ears but to their hearts, minds, and souls, Snake knew better than to follow the marching, howling retinue. They would be the first to fall to whatever ancient beast had assuredly been alerted to their arrival. Whoever, whatever it was that he was to hunt here, Snake hoped that his companion as weak and sniveling as he may be, survived. The taste of this planet, while palpable, was less than pleasant. He would rather rule over a world like Kuat than this stench of a planet. Still, if Nok Morliss fell, he would still emerge victorious, having sunk his venomous fangs into the neck of the ancient power as it rendered Nok. There was no shred of doubt in Snake’s mind that he would win. The thought of defeat did not even cross his mind; nor did the idea that what they hunted was beyond the physical world.
  11. Garn Snake could taste the sulfurous air before the ship had even touched down and the airlocks opened. It managed to permeate through every miniscule crack and fissure of the exquisite vessel; and exquisite it was. The mighty serpent had spent most of the journey coiled safely aboard one of the warmer power diverters in the engineering bay. No one bothered him, in fact, no one even came seeking him, or they were too poor to have looked there for him. The devilish viper had crawled back through the air ducts for just long enough to realize that the lavishness that coated the ship from stem to stern was like countless others he had seen and positions himself to strike at in the dead of night. This green skinned fellow and his mental manipulations had been nothing compared to his own, just as they who played at power knew nothing of the true taste of it. After the ship’s doors had opened, even the microscrubbers in the ship seemed unable to keep up with the noxious fumes as they spread their invisible tendrils up and into the fresh air of the ship. Whatever had happened here, whatever lived on this world, Snake knew, instinctually, that any who so willingly chose to live and prosper in this was worthy to be hunted. The walking pillar of green slime had little chance at finding whatever it was he sought here without him. Snake would have been content to leave the planet as soon as they had touched down. He could not care any less for whatever it was that Nok was seeking; but Snake was a king, a visiting dignitary upon an unspoiled kingdom awaiting his conquest. And then he could sense the desire of Nok Morliss, questioning Snake’s presence. The serpent hissed and flashed his fangs at no one in particular. That fool thought that he was his to command. Yes, Snake would go. He would feast upon whatever thought it crowned itself master of this world. Whatever it was that the green two-legged desired could wait; he, the serpent of nightmares, desired to hunt. Unwinding himself from his perch, the gigantic predator slithered forward out the doorway designed for they that desired command but could not take it by any other means and down the finely decorated, vomit-inducing if Snake was honest, hallways of the ship. If Snake appreciated anything, it was that the ship’s owner kept the temperatures at what seemed to be what should have been an uncomfortably warm temperature. Snake was thankful, he hated the cold, but he would never tell anyone that. As far as the outside world was concerned he was an invincible master of all that he laid his eyes upon. Slithering through the ship, his belly hissing across the deck plating with a near silent hiss, Snake found his way to the landing ramp and slithered down into the thick yellow fog towards the hazy outline of Nok Morliss, his serving machines, and five pathetic hairy beings. Snake’s tongue naturally lashed the sour air. He hated the taste, but each pass of his tongue in and out of his lipless mouth filled his mouth and by that his mind with more information than the sightless snack could possibly glean. There, with his head along the ground and his body twisting behind him, he swished his head from the left to the right. He could hear something, but not with his ears. Whatever it was, echoed across space and time deep into his very mind and Snake could not help but allow the corners of his mouth to twist upwards in a terrifyingly menacing smile. The fear that radiated out from Nok’s hairy two-legged carpets seemed to not just echo through the air waves, but to illicit a response from something unknown, something ancient, something unnatural. Trying to capture the idea of the silent screams that echoed in what Snake did not know was The Force, he pushed Nok’s mind, That. Is that what you have brought me to hunt? His excitement at such a different challenge coursing like static electricity along the thoughts he pressed towards his travelling companion.
  12. Snake

    Kuat

    While the green two-legged pawn and his supposed master were carted off by cow-towing servants, Snake made himself scarce. He was used to his visage inspiring fear and panic and there was enough of that in the air that the very taste of it on his tongue was sickening it was so potent. Still . . . this was not an opportunity to pass up. Never in all his years of life had such a buffet ever presented itself before. Up until now, Snake had to exercise extreme caution as he took down the occasional farm animal to sate his ever growing appetite; only stalking, and very rarely enjoying, sentient prey. To those that he did allow to see him, he was just a wraith in the night, a story told to frighten children at bedtime, or a second glance at the shadows of nothingness. With a flick of his tail, all almost 15 feet of it that entailed his body, he slipped off through the tall grass and into the shadows of the setting sun; the gentle parting of the tall grassy waves the only sign of his passing in the din that was the aftermath of the Siege of Kuat. Slithering along, just off the now heavily trodden path, Snake followed along as his new-found minion was carted away along with the rage-induced survivor until the group came upon a hodgepodge of floodlights, speeders, scurrying two-leggeds, tents and prefabricate buildings. Joy flooded Snake’s mind, and not the happy joy of a child on Huttmas Day, but the joy of Demagol having found a new test subject compatible with his latest tests. This would be a day that he would never forget! From a coiled position around an aged pine, his candy red eyes reflecting the occasional passing flood light as it rotated through the air illuminating the world, lighting the way for incoming medevac vehicles. Both Sith were quickly ushered into tents and out of sight. Watching for a few moments more, Snake decided that there was no sense in waiting any more of this glorious day. Uncoiling himself back into the grass, the leviathan serpent slithered towards the M*A*S*H Unit. Slowly, closer and closer, Snake moved like a glacier of destruction; unobserved, unnoted, and uninteresting – or was he. From the edges of the tall grass, Snake’s nose edged out, until his huge triangular head rested just above the trampled grass, watching, tasting, and waiting. He timed the swirl of the floodlights, the running back and forth of hurried feet, and much much more. Nothing seemed to escape his lidless eyes, wandering tongue, and searching mind. There was so much death and dying in this place. All Snake had to do was make his choice. Succulent, juicy, and filling, with just enough bad cholesterol to be tasty, while still allowing him to maintain his lithe form. It was possible that he could gorge himself here to the point of rotundness; but Snake knew that for every body here there was another lying yet undiscovered elsewhere amongst the grass and trees of this terraformed world. No, he would have to remain vigilante yet. Besides, he could not leave himself in such a way that the green slime would try to escape him. Waiting. Watching. Waiting. Watching. Waiting. Moving. In that moment, just after the search light had passed over his location once again and the well-worn path was momentarily vacant as countless feet rushed to offload a recently landed medevac, the colossal viper moved. In a flash of navy blue scales, Snake leapt forward from the grass, his body winding and curving like a lightning bolt from cover to cover. In no more than an instant, Snake had transitioned his lengthy being from the grass under the edge of a tent wall and into the blackened shadows alongside the edge of a smaller triage tent where 2 medics were busy trying to stop the bleeding of a half-dozen bleeding soldiers. The edges of Snake’s lipless mouth twisted into a smile as his flickering tongue caught the fine spray of blood that wafted downwards towards the floor. The trampled grass and dirt was already slick with it. If only this day could last forever! Winding and swaying from side to side, like a sapling waving in the wind that was not actually there, Snake slowly raised his head up over the edge of the table to take in the glorious view of bleeding soldiers, the backs of the medics to him in that moment. There were so many choices to choose from, all he had to do is decide. Just then, one of the wounded on the tables, raised a shaking hand, pointing a single quivering finger in the direction of Snake, spittle and bubbles spluttering as he tried to form words as his remaining eye bulged from its socket at the horrifying presence before him. Just as the medics turned, Snake lunged, his yawning triangular head and fangs followed by massive coils launching from their hiding place into the bloodied chaos. A single partial yelp is all that escaped the downed soldier’s mouth as Snake’s weighty coils crushed flesh and bone beneath them; snapping the necks of both medics as his maw snapped and slashed downwards onto the bloodied mass of soldiers. Venom, blood and bodily fluids flew into the air as his jaws snapped open and closed, driving forth paralytic poisons with each bone-crunching blow. When all that was left moving in the tent was the blood slicked coils and face of Snake, he finally paused, his head swiveling about surveying the carnage within the silence that was the tent, obscured from the outside world in that moment. In the stillness, Snake’s disappointment grew. In his fervor, he had seemingly crushed the life out of the sick and dying and snapped the necks of the medics beneath his mass. This feast was so plentiful that he could have whatever it was that he desired. What he desired was still living flesh. From amongst the bodies and splinters of what were just duraplast tables, Snake slithered forward. The carnage had been enjoyable. He had not been able to utterly destroy in quite some time. So often he had to strike like a precision surgeon. This time, he had been able to simply unleash his hunger and passion in one swirling whirlwind of death. Poking his head out from beneath the opposite side of the tent, Snake was pleased to see the long shadows and scurrying stretcher bearing slaves, all too busy to pay any mind to him. Just as silently as he had entered, Snake slithered from beneath the tent, the edge of the flap tapping along his scales as they skimmed the sheen of blood from them, soaking up into the once-white walls of cloth. Into the shadows, he slithered, back and forth his body working slowly and carefully across the trampled grass and weeds, until he came upon a single stretcher illuminated on one side by a buzzing fusion lantern. The body upon it was trembling. Snake’s flicking tongue could taste the dying being’s fear, his life seeping from his body with each short breath. Yes. A fresh meal and no one else around. As his head rose up, his fangs glistening in blood, Snake began to unhinge his jaw, preparing to take in the still living, if for now, form of the injured Sith soldier before him. Only one thing gave him pause. Somewhere in his mind, he could hear the call of Nok Morliss. What did that weakling want now? A hunt? What sort of hunt could that frail fool possibly go on. Still, the two-legged had presented a surprisingly stalwart defense when they had engaged in a battle of the minds. If he was seeking Snake’s assistance, perhaps he was finally seeing the truth. Looking down at the soon-to-be-corpse, a twinge of sadness etched across Snake’s mind as a single serpent’s tear rolled down his face and splashed into the wound of the cot-bound man with a sickening sizzle as a puff of steam rose into the warm night air. Nok Morliss would more likely take Snake unto an even greater feast and he could still hold off eating for more than a month. As great as this blessed feast was, the temptation of something more was hard to resist. The descension of mana from heaven proved that there was more to be found. If the blind green one needed him on a hunt, perhaps they would be leaving this world. New worlds to torment and rule; new beings to rule over from the shadows; new flesh to eat; Snake would find and rule it all. Projecting his mind into the ether that was The Force and the air around him, he sought Nok Morliss’ mind. This hunt shall result in much feasting and torment. If not, you shall fill my belly instead. Carefully, Snake lowered himself back to the blackened grasses of the night and cautiously wound himself from shadow to shadow towards the edge of the camp. Once a pair of fleet running feet collided with his midsection stretched across a dark path, resulting in a cry of shock and fear and a splatter as face and hands met the mud, followed by grumbling and cursing at unlabeled power cables. As he reached the edge of the camp, cries of fear began to erupt about the camp as a single blaring klaxon began to wail somewhere in the camp. They had discovered his carnage. It was no matter. Snake did not even look back once he reached the edge of the camp. Instead he followed the dull calling of the Neimoidian’s mind until he was able to find a gleaming ship. Pausing, Snake stared up at the vessel. Was he a fool to enter it? Was this simply a trick the two-legged was using to ensnare him? No. The request tasted of sincerity. If it was not, so be it. He had bested the being once. He could and would do it again. Still he had not risen to be the shadowy ruler of Kuat’s plains by being stupid. Avoiding the yawning gangplank, Snake coiled along the edge of the ship until he found an exhaust port that was less-than tactfully secured. With the twist of a fang, the cover popped off and Snake was able to squeeze his form through the small opening. Massive as he was, snakes always seemed to be able to find their way into the most unusual places. In, past the drop plate that sealed the vents from the void of space, through the smooth cool darkness . Into the ventilation system, Snake slowly squirmed until he decided that he was by now somewhere within the bowels of the ship. Passing by a grate, Snake was able to glance what appeared to be a vacant room filled with machinery and piping. With his thick skulled head and muscled neck, Snake began to push on the grate until it creaked and ground, echoing about the unoccupied room, until the panel popped off clattering down to the durasteel floor below. With a solid *WHUMP* and *THUMP* Snake’s coils cascaded from the venting to the floor below. I am in your ship snack. Let us be off to this glorious hunt.
  13. Snake

    Kuat

    Snake could taste the fear that radiated from his blind two-legged mottled green servant. Fear for the fallen supposed warrior, fear that the forces of this world would fall him yet. The viper’s tongue lashed in and out as he tasted the feat-tinged air. It was ripe and sweet to the taste, yet something, something seemed off in just the faintest of ways. What fear does he not yield? Does he know that without his pitiful master he will draw his last breath before the sun sets? Snake’s eyes narrowed as he regarded his blood-splattered charge and his fallen master. The rage radiated off the de-limbed one, pure, simple, powerful. That rage that defied the call of defeat and death. Perhaps it was that when confronted with death, Snake simply survived. He was the king of his world, but he longed for more. Wherever it was that these offworlders continued to come from, Snake would rule them too. But this fear; it radiated forth and was practically intoxicating. The only thing that gave the scaly beast pause was that while his defeated foe radiated fear, this so-called master did not. No. He would not strike yet. If this being was worthy of his wardship, he would prove it. If he died, than Snake would eat doubly well once the sun fell. You are mine yet worm! He hissed across the mindwaves that bound he to the depths of Nok’s mind. Pray that your master lives, for your sake
  14. Snake

    Kuat

    He should have killed him. That was the only conclusion that the twisted serpent could make as he watched the bloody mass of limbs and fear cackle and cough with his own blood coating the area. Silently his massive coils parted the sea of grass that made up much of the rural areas of Kuat; following enough of a distance behind to be able to lash out or vanish in a flash of dark glistening scales if needed. Even blinded the poor green being seemed to be able to stumble abnormally well. There was something with this offworlder, something so many of those he had stalked on this world lacked. Soon enough, they found themselves traversing through the smoky area of what Snake knew to be the estate of one of Kuat’s more powerful lordlings; one who thought that he could rule by means of his wealth. The smell of burnt flesh mingled with the auras of the recently dead and dying; their screams longing to be snuffed and devoured flesh and soul. Snake’s tongue flicked the air faster and faster. His desire to feast had not yet been satisfied; only the green two-legged’s connection to a greater power had saved him thus far. Perhaps, the Neimoidian would live to be devoured another day. There was plenty here to easily prey upon. As they moved onwards, Snake weaved between the torn up Burroughs of earth and fallen limbs and whole trees. Slithering beneath a downed tree, his body parting the soft recently upheaved earth, Snake sensed the power he had felt when he had first encountered the green weakling. But something was amiss; something about the power had changed. Where before there had been a confidence that bordered on absolute assuredness, there was now a jagged edge of burning pain. Pain and rage, unfettered unbridled hatred; and it radiated forth from the pit that Nok had blindly discovered. A mangled mess was being hoisted up by two cowardly armored soldiers. The scene raised up hints of confusion and wonder in the massive serpent. In his wordless mind the thoughts that arose in him made him question his own judgment. This was the being of power? A bloody mess sporting fewer limbs asymmetrically. Why would I have desired this power? I already rule here. Whatever did this to him, I could assuredly best. Snake’s tongue flicked the air. He could taste the fresh blood and burnt flesh of the armored being. Snake could feel the life force ebbing out of whatever this master of the green mottled fleshling was. Still the man clung to life, even though he should be falling from it something held him to this world. The burning rage. It was an emotion Snake had not experienced. Hunger? Yes. Fear? Yes. Anger? Yes. Rage? Never. Even if this being had been bested like his blind follower, he had something about him. And Snake wanted that! He hungered for it, deep in his belly. He would find this powerful rage and harness it as his own. Yours will be mine!
  15. Snake

    Kuat

    In that moment, there, deep amongst the memories of foe, Snake’s coils tensed as his every sinew prepared to strike. Memories whizzed by them a sickening haze of brightly colored flashes of light. As Snake’s coils tensed, he could fear the Neimoidian’s fear increasing. As the flood tide of fear increased, so did the speed at which the memories whipped by; their presence in the connection between them creating an unearthly breeze that blew between the duo. Then, as the winds and tides reached their zenith, and Nok’s fear was so apparent that he physically quaked where he stood upon the green grass of Kuat, Snake could see it, a glowing orb of inky blackness that radiated absolute undiluted pure fear. The core of Nok Morliss’ being, not that which he feared but his fear, was where he, the serpent of nightmares, would leave his mark. In that moment, Snake struck, his taught body springing into action, his maw wide, venom dripping and sizzling upon the unseen earth between them as his physical form and biological weaponry bound together with the twisting, untrained, unbridled fury that was the dark side of the force pulsing between the two. The flashes of light that were Nok’s memories glinted off the hulking serpent’s dark blue scales. In an instant the distance between Snake and the pulsing sphere of glowing black was no more and there, in the bowels of the Neimoidian’s mind, You are mine! Nothing can defeat me! His fangs sunk deeply into the blackness and it exploded, erupting in plumes of pure dark fear, coating both minds in darkness. The fear only served to feed Snake’s hunger as it slid across his scales, dripping in the cold darkness. ______________________ As the blackness flowed down their minds and washed the connection between them clear, Snake found his own physical form careening from his coiled place on the ground, through the air, erupting from the safety of his hedge. His weighted form crashing into the quaking robed form of Nok as he stood staring into the underbrush; where they had been before the clash of minds had begun. Crashing to the exposed grass with a sickening crunch and thrashing of coils and limbs; Snake snapped furiously at the thickly robed being’s exposed flesh, raking his venom dripping fangs across the only exposed skin he could find: Nok Morliss’ face. Each pass of his fang tore skin and flesh away, leaving trails of Slith venom still tainted deeply with the darkest aspects of the force along the exposed flesh and deep within wounds where the fangs found their mark. As the venom began to take effect, even the uncontrollable shaking of the mentally paralyzed apprentice began to cease. Even as the sounds of battle raged in the distance, Snake began to expertly wrap coil after coil around his prey, his scales grating against the bits of metal within the man’s clothes. With his prey completely paralyzed within his grasp, Snake rose up, his massive triangular head just above that of his foe’s now eyeless shredded face, the slits of his nose mere inches from his next meal. His forked tongue raked across Nok’s face, the metallic taste of blood mingling with the sweet fear with every flick. His slotted pupils staring out unblinkingly from his candy red eyes searched the ravaged face of his foe. Even now, paralyzed with venom, fear, and darkness, he could sense it. Something greater. Greater than perhaps even the demon of Kuat’s garden world. Curiosity You were with the feeling. Snake projected the feeling of Darth Akheron that he had felt with Nok when he had first sensed the duo. Why would such power ally itself with the likes of you? The question puzzled Snake, even as his stomach rumbled in anticipation of this next meal. Touching the tip of his nose to Nok’s bloody face, he pressed, his mind and muscled neck pushing himself deeper physically and mentally into the being’s head, each phrase a wordless though of images, feelings, and emotions. You attacked me. You failed. You are my lesser. At any time, I will destroy you at will. I am the last thing you will have ever seen. I am your death. Cold, Venom dripping, Darkness; DEATH. Remember this. I am your greater. I am your nightmare, coiled within the soul of your fear. My seed of death implanted within you. You will take me to this power. Even as the paralyzing venom from Snake’s razored fangs mingled with the fleeting darkness that was the connection between the two foes, it was also absorbed into Nok’s flesh, coursing through his body, healthy and injured tissue alike; it made no difference. Every muscle screaming in pain but was unwilling to be moved, chemically induced fear coursing even more freely with each moment. With a final rib rattling, lung crushing squeeze of his coils, Snake slowly, almost reluctantly, began to unwind from his position of absolute power. Carefully he slithered back into the hedge, his head resting in the shadows of the edge, mere feet from Nok’s decimated face, each reptilian breath rustling the once ornate torn headpiece of the Neimoidian marketer; waiting. Eventually, the venom would wear off, and then, if he had not been completely broken, the green skinned prey would lead him to the true power that had passed by. If not, it was of little loss. The being would be simple to subdue again and consume. Perhaps the power would come back for this, this thing, this weak thing. Every master needed minions; even Snake.
  16. Snake

    Kuat

    Snake felt the sick joy of dark victory as it swelled in his elongated chest. This weak being would not stand against him; before he finished him off, he would ensure that this coward knew true, absolute, fear. Even as the Neimoidian’s fear subtly warped and twisted while he sought to force his memories of victory upwards into the light; Snake twisted his coils tighter. He would smother every resistance the petty businessman offered. Had he vocal cords, Snake would have laughed at the being’s petty resistances; however, he did not. That did not stop his entertainment at the bein believing he could win. Even as the mindscape that they were inhabiting deep in the bowels of Nok’s mind warped and twisted as Snake’s entire view was taken up by the sight of the sickly green things face, twisting with melting heat into that of a supposed fearsome predator. Yet another victim to be consumed by my maw! His foe’s voice echoed down the invisible connection that bound their minds; even if he could not understand the words, Snake knew that it was a challenge that was issued. It was what happened next, that took Snake by surprise; instead of resisting, Snake’s victim pulled Snake further down the rabbit hole. Into the darkness; Snake’s home, deeper and deeper, into visions of power. Instantly visages of stars rushing by, foreign worldscape after worldscape, each entirely different from the last. And then, death. He could taste it, feel it, be consumed by it. Perhaps this two legged coward had something. Maybe, just maybe, he was not entirely worthless; maybe he had a use and that was why the more powerful one kept this green thing around; but Snake was the herald of death to any that stood before him. He had the power over life and death for any that he lay his eyes upon. Snake’s venom dripping teeth twisted into a smile as he swirled deeper and deeper into Nok’s memories; each memory of power and conquest serving to give the massive serpent a look into the depths of who his opponent was; each one, a chance to find a weakness, a chance to exploit these chinks in the green one’s mental armor. There it was, the chink, the weakness, buried beneath these visions of power that the Neimoidian pummeled his mind with: Power. His weakness was his power! Unlike Snake, Nok had sought out this power to cover his own fears. Snake possessed, and was, the power that Nok sought and that was the chink. Snake was what his foe feared; a nightmare in the deep. That emotion, Snake let flow through him, along the connection that bound their minds. He was better. He knew it and he knew that the Neimoidian knew it. Not a puppet or a puppetmaster, a ruler or a fighter, but a master, the master of all he could see. Back away fool. Back away or you will die. Nok’s memories continued to swirl, each vision of a glimpse of the powers of the universe that the green businessman sought to control. Fought for. Desired. And in each and every one, Snake planted his tightly coiled body, his maw open wide, venom dripping from each fang, daring the trespasser on his world to try and strike again; pushing back with his own mind, his own superiority over his world and all within in his domain, radiating wildly with a fiery consuming passion between their minds. ((3))
  17. Snake

    Kuat

    In that moment, Snake pushed aside all of his fear that he had suffered at the hands of his former master, replaced by his cold calculated rage at all that walked upon two legs and claimed dominance over he and any other that did not fit their stereotypical narrow views of their world. Lashing out, he felt the cold darkness as it rushed across his scales telling him he was alive. Then in a moment, they were gone. His memory forgotten in the passing of a moment, safely tucked deep down in an unexplored crevice of his mind to only be brought forth in times of need for an angry fuel to push him forward. Now, however, he did not need it, his mind and body were steeled by his own knowledge of his power over the two-leggeds. Even this strange green fearful one that now quaked before him in the dark. Momentarily, the being had caught him by surprise, but Snake had, as he always did, fought back and won. He did not know where they were, but he could taste and feels the green man’s fear. It was all around them etched into every atomized particle of frigid air and it fed the serpent, gave him even more power. Wherever their minds had fallen, the limbless predatory reptile had assuredly forced them to this point. Silently, his body swishing effortlessly back and forth, powered by his hatred and pride, the snake circled the cowed form of the Neimoidian. The serpent’s crimson eyes pierced through the unnatural darkness, the frigid fingertips of the void against his scales only served to press him forward; every instinct urged him to strike; to kill this meager weakling before him. The cold had no effect on him; he was warmed by his inner hatred and rage, cool and calculated as it was. The darkness did not bother him; he was a creature of it, a son of the darkness, wrapped in its comforting embrace, a nightmare of those who dared enter into the beckoning arms of black. The only sound that could be heard was dripping. A drip here. A drip there. Snake’s fangs were exposed and his maw open as his tongue lashed the darkness. Each breath fueling his hatred and desire with the sweet taste of fear that weighed heavily in the arctic air. Lethal venom dripped from his exposed fangs, hissing ever so quietly as they struck the unseen ground beneath him. Yes, this poor two-legged had been wrong to engage him. How dare such a weak specimen even make eye contact with he, his better? The weakling had taken him by surprise. It would pay for that insolence with his life. First his mind. Then his body. Snake would crush and swallow each whole, digesting them with joy in the knowledge that he was the master of his domain. And as his belly scraped along the ground, Snake saw his foe’s eyes searching the darkness. Fool. And in that moment, from the inky blackness that was the fear-filled memory of his foe, the massive predator lunged again; his venom-dripping fangs bore wide as he sought a killing blow. Rearing up, Snake drove his maw forward, each coiled muscle springing in unison to drive his massive form forward in a torpedo of poison, teeth, and death. You are mine. I am your superior in every way! ((2))
  18. Snake

    Kuat

    As the serpent crept forward through the dense foliage that made up the hedge bordering the grand estate, he could taste the being’s fear, tangible through the air, the invisible waves of the force that he knew nothing about; but even through the cloud of fear that he relished, Snake felt something else: curiosity. Curiosity that would be the death of it. Any being that had wandered too closely to his nest before had been quickly and near silently removed from the realm of the living. Unless, of course, if it were those pesky younglings that were all too often left to frolic unsupervised across the fields and gardens of the world. No, Snake knew how easy it was to take such a being and how brutal and swift the reaction would be from the swarm of piddly insect-like humans that swarmed the world. They truly were a plague. With a wicked grin, Snake paused, peering out through the dense but-less-than-needed windbreak. Oh, how he longed to find and strike this one; assuredly a sentient being worthy of destruction and of the hunt. Snake could tell from the being’s presence that it was not of this world. Not like the sniveling cowards that played lordship here; no, this one had eclipsed that level of egocentrism. Perhaps it was powered by its own fear? His new prey was even more fearful than the nerfs and other barnyard swill he usually fed upon. How he longed to bathe in that fear, to allow it to wash over his mind, body, and soul. He could feel the venom welling in his fangs, ready and willing to strike. Yet he knew; knew that more likely than not, this would be another of the humans like the too many that already overran his precious paradise and he would have to content himself with the knowledge that should he have chosen to, he could have destroyed the being in a single crushing bite. For a moment, he wondered why this particular specimen was so fearful; but only for a moment, because, suddenly there between the gaps in the limbs and boughs he saw it, saw him, the sickly green hued thing standing there in splendorous robes that put the local would-be-nobility to shame. From this thing, the Neimoidian, radiated fear tinged with curiosity. Still, elsewhere, Snake could sense the second presence, suddenly diminishing. Leaving perhaps? Perished by the foolish humans that called this world home? Surely a being of such power knew better than to awaken the swarm of roaches that were the humans of this world? Regardless, with the powerful force diminished, and the alienesque being standing before him, Snake knew, deep in the boiling pit of his mind and belly that this hunt was no longer an exercise in hunting. It would now be a feast for a king. As the robed being stared back at him through the bushes, his fangs would be the last thing it would feel. As his hunger and pleasure at this newfound moment of discovery echoed from within his silent mind, the snake prepared to strike, his muscles and tendons tensing to leap forward and crush the man’s brittle bones; but instead, something else happened. Suddenly, he could not only taste the thing’s fear. Suddenly, he could feel that very fear as it forced its way into his own unprotected mind. The fear masked a power that Snake had yet to encounter and one that he had not seen before. His body froze in time and space just before he could propel himself forward to drive forth a venomous killing blow and in that moment, all went black before him as the green mottled lordling wrenched him from his physical body into an otherworldly ethereal plain of dark echoing power that radiated from nowhere and yet from everywhere. Even then, Snake could feel the being’s invisible tendrils pushing and prodding at his mind with invisible tendrils shrouded in the very fear that he had tasted on his tongue only moments before; trying to find a weakness, an entry point, a place to force his own fears upon he that would best him. In a moment, the invisible tendrils succeeded as they touched a deeply held memory that Snake only brought forth as fuel to further his detestation for those who claimed lordship over these lands and all that sought to be above him; casting he and his kind down like unintelligent vermin to the earth. _____________________________________________ Suddenly where the estate had been before his mind was drawn forth into the embracing darkness. That embrace was not a loving one or even one of pride as he had felt when he was but a young snakeling in the arms or wrapped about the neck of a prideful teenage boy high up in the gleaming towers of Kuat City’s finest nobleman’s suite. No, this embrace was one that left him longing and in that longing he felt it. Snake once again felt the confusion and nausea as his body was supplanted from the darkness back into this memory that he disdained so much. His small less-than-year-old body was being carried by the teen, tears streaming down the young Kuati’s face as he glared down at Snake. ”Why did you do this to me. Now I’m in trouble with father! Why couldn’t you just slink away instead of sending that pesky maid to the hospital? You know he already does not like how big you’re getting you filthy lizard!” Down the ornate hallways towards the refresher room. Snake could sense it, his master, his friend of these last few months, he intended something; something that was not in Snake’s best interest, not at all. In that moment, Snake began to struggle, his lithe body trying to squirm out of the boy’s grasp. It was of no avail. He was stuck fast in the boy’s white-knuckled shaking hands. What is he doing? Snake worried to himself, unsure of what was being said, but frightened by the aura enveloping his master and friend; an aura of rage and anger directed at him! What have I done to cause this? The feeling emanating from his brain in emotional waves instead of words. Snake could taste his own fear. And then, there it was! The refresher itself. Had his master not flailed him the last time he had caught him encircled in the cool water there? He had said that was no place for filthy creatures like Snake. And now. . .now. . .NOW. . . Head first, Snake suddenly felt him being wrenched downwards into the tepid waters; his lungs screaming for oxygen and confusion clouded his brain. Suddenly with a roar the surrounded from all sides he was shooting along a dark breathless maze; his head pounding into each curve and bend, unable to stop himself as the torrents of water bore him onwards seeking to tear the life from his body. And even in that moment, Snake felt it, FEAR, it was as real now in this moment transported back in time within the recesses of his mind as it had been then. More so, he could taste his own fear even as the panic the memory brought with edged upwards in his own soul. He knew that he was going to die in that awful labyrinth. In the cold, wet, darkness, Snake was consumed. Yet, somehow, somewhere, in a glimmer of the furthest recesses of his mind he still knew. . . Snake knew that the green two-legged being that had stood before him had done something to him; even if he was not consciously aware as his mind and therefore his body thrashed and struggled against the memory made real within the space of The Force that now intrinsically and mystically bound their two minds together. Yes, somehow the green fearful being had forced itself into his mind, drawing forth a memory better left repressed, a memory chalked full of fear and the basis for much of his hatred for the two-legged kind. He would not let them do that to him ever again!! Still, fear; as his fear flooded through his mind, his body reacting in turn, Snake could feel it. Fear His fear. The fear of his attacker. Dead in the cold and dark. . . FEAR! There it was, Snake felt it, intertwined ever so subtly within his own fear, a fear not his own, a fear that assuredly belong to this foul green stench that now besieged his mind. DEAD IN THE COLD AND DARK There it was again. Fear! DEAD IN THE COLD AND DARK! What was this pressing thought that wound its own tendriled band of cowardice about his heart? It was not his; no, the serpent knew he had conquered that fear of death in the cold dark pipes of Kuati septic treatment long ago. He had survived! He was a survivor. In that survival, he had power. The meager humans could not destroy him. And in that moment, he had steeled himself, willing his own survival and conquest to where he had now come: the unseen master of all he surveyed. Dead in the cold and dark. Again, that thought? And in that fleeting moment, Snake’s mind reacted as if he was striking a physical killing blow, the maw of his venomous fang filled mind thrashing out with all the endless depths of his serpentine mind he latched onto the thought, the feelings of fear, driving his mind forward against the onslaught of the fearful memory that the Neimoidian had wrenched to the forefront, and in that moment, the memory began to fade. . . Dead in the cold and dark indeed! ((1))
  19. Snake

    Kuat

    Hunger… It had been more than a week since the limbless reptile had eaten, the simple nerf he had taken then all too easy a prize. The hunger that boiled inside was more than just a primal desire for nourishment; no, as he often did, the massive serpent found himself hungering for a challenge. Many years ago, he had ascertained the when, where, and how to easily take a nerf here, a drebin there; without arousing too much suspicion of the local farming and security populace of the planet. Still, from time to time, when hunger and desire mingled with opportunity, he was able to take a heartier prize, one that presented him with a challenge. Having little else to do, the snake would silently stalk his prey through the lush terraformed world of Kuat, waiting until the perfect moment to lung forth from the underbrush and strike a single killing blow, dragging his prize back to the shelter of the shadows to digest and contemplate his next prize. _______________________________ Slithering forward, near silently, the only sign of the passing of the massive otherworldly beast was a brief rustle of the seeded grasses and then he was gone; a wraith that had been there and in a breath’s time was gone. Through the grass, over boulders and around trunks, the Slith moved with a predator’s cunning; every tension of his muscled body a purpose to propel him forward silently along the ground. At times he moved as slowly as the growing crops. Other times, he lunged with the lightning that cracked overhead. As massive a being as he was, he was but a snake, for that is what they called him; the few who had managed to see him and believe their own eyes. To the people of Kuat, a snake was simply a snake, not a creature of shrewdness and intellect, but a beast to be put down. He had learned that many years ago, early on after his release into the wilds by his former ‘master.’ To attack a native was to open oneself up to becoming the prey. Snake was a predator. Power and hunger were his native tongues. The legions of Kuati that freely roamed the gardens presented a simpler prey than even most nerf; but the serpent was aware that to strike down one of these was an invitation of destruction. The humans would band together like a pack of rabid mice on a fallen crumb and would not let up until they were sure their quarry had been destroyed. Fortunately for Snake, the time he had made such a mistake, the hunters had been more than pleased to obliterate a recently cast off skin, claiming victory over their supposed prey and then Snake had slithered away, careful to avoid being seen and even more careful to avoid tempting their rabid hunters who believed themselves masters of these lands. Still, the hunt for sentient prey was not an opportunity to be passed upon lightly. He could taste their fears. In the dark, when children were tucked safely away and doors and windows secured for the night, fear permeated the air. Children feared the sounds of night; mothers feared for the safety of their spawn; fathers for the inevitability that they would someday be spit out by the massive unseen war machines above when they were no longer of use. It was these fears that Snake fed upon, kindling the fires in his belly as he slithered and slunk through the trees and along the edges of rooftops; his massive frame slinking silently until he found himself time and time again prepared to land a final killing blow on an unsuspecting child as they lay asleep in their beds or a father at work in his fields or a mother by the glow of the lamp as she tended to the nerfs one last time for the night. _______________________________ Hunger The emotion was palpable as it radiated from his very being. Yes, it had been far too long. As he slithered forward, a ghostly line in the dirt, his dark blue scaled body but a shadow mingling with the shade of the trees and bushes that lined the estate, his tongue flickered in and out searching for a scent, something to sate his appetite. After that, he would find a new prize to hunt. . . In that moment, a crashing sound interrupted his silent prowling as a metallic being, no good for eating and no fun for hunting, came crashing through the foliage above to land in the grass mere feet away from the massive snake’s mid-coils. With a powerful flick of his tail and twisting of his torso, Snake slipped through the grass, darting beneath a nearby thicket of bushes that made up a decorative wall for the ignorant owners of the lands that he now hunted. Synthetic beings might be of no use for nourishment and of little use for quarry, but still, some of them were enough of a bother as they seemed to report anything and everything they saw to someone. There was no need for that now. This estate held too much promise in the ways of an easy meal. _______________________________ And then, he tasted it. Fear His fanged mouth twisted into an unsettling lipless smile as his tongue flicked in and out several times. The dull hum of a passing engine signaled further investigation; for as the craft sailed by out of sight on the other side of the hedge he now found himself in, he could taste the fear that emanated from one of the beings aboard it. A fear like this, Snake had never tasted before. It seemed to besiege the being’s entirety; whoever, whatever it was, was completely consumed by it. Oh, how he loved the taste of fear. Still. . . As he pushed forward, carefully following the odorless scent that led a trail as easily as if he had been bleeding freely upon the ground, there was something else. Snake could taste it too; another scent that lingered alongside the fear that was so potent. Another scent that was even more foreign to him than the all-encompassing fear: a dark raging tempest of power that seemed contained in the moment, but threatened to explode at any moment. These tastes and scents assuredly required investigation. Neither had Snake smelt so strongly from anyone on the planet. Perhaps, for once, he could find prey that would give him the hunt that he so desired; to strike with his venom-dripping fangs and once again establish himself as the unseen, unknown, master of these lands. No more taking of petty farm animals or filthy chattel, a true meal, fit for a master.
  20. SNAKE'S CHARACTER SHEET Identity Real Name: Snake (Subject to change as he develops) A.K.A: Snake Homeworld: Kuat Species: Slith Physical Description Age: 14 Length: 14’ 7” Weight: 418 lbs Scales: Dark/navy blue Eyes: candy red Sex: Male Equipment Clothing or Armor: Scales Weapon: Venomous tooth filled maw Common Inventory: N/A Faction Information Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: Force Sensitive Alignment: Chaotic Evil Current Faction Affiliation: Sith Current Faction Rank: Hopeful History: Force Side: Dark Trained by: N/A Trained who: N/A Known Skills: Force Sense, predatory instincts and abilities Background: Snake is a Slith of no name who was sold to a rich Kuati when he was just a few weeks old. After a year or so of captivity, the Slith grew too big to conveniently handle and was effectively flushed down the ‘fresher and out of the noble’s life and mind. That was not enough for this young serpent. He survived the flushing and managed to escape, battered and bruised to the lush gardens that blanketed much of the surface of the planet. Over the coming decade plus, Snake grew in size and cunning; quickly realizing that to survive on such a world he would need to be nearly invisible, carefully selecting his prey from amongst those creatures, and beings, that would not be missed. Still, Snake yearned for something more…
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