Jump to content

Ficcabin

Roleplaying Application
  • Posts

    41
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by Ficcabin

  1. Ficcabin floated in the darkness, each sense inside of him tingling with a sensation somewhere between pain, pleasure, and mind consuming numbness. Ficcabin lacked the word to describe what he was feeling, so he blindly associated the word ‘dreamlike’ to it. There was nothing to be seen in the palpable darkness, nor nothing to be heard. “283...293...307...” Ficcabin muttered into the muffling darkness. Even now, in this state of dreaminess, Ficcabin’s brain raced with the numbers beaten into his head since he was born. The comfort in this blackness was not necessarily but was still helpful. The one thing he had control over. The one thing he didn’t have to worry about. Then the unthinkable happened. “509...509…um…” Ficcabin couldn’t remember the next number. No that wasn’t it. He refused to remember the next number. And he didn’t understand why. These numbers were his life. They were his everything. And for some odd reason, he refused to remember the next number. “...The force….there is only the force…There is only the force...” the words came naturally, like the return of an ocean current. Ficcabin repeated the phrase over and over again, these words echoing in the eternal blackness. Then Ficcabin awoke. Ficcabin opened his eyes, recognising the master bedroom from earlier. Near the window a little astromech buzzed as it worked to remedy the scientist’s handiwork. The sheets that he had been laid on were still drying from his own blood. Ficcabin was surprised to feel the numbing feeling of bacta patches over his body. However, they barely held back the immense pain in his leg. What happened? Only after a few moments of waking did Ficcabin notice the Neimoidian. The presence of it disgusted him. It was like a light, choking smog. Ficcabin tried to sit up and turn, but found he was far too weak to do so. Instead the givin only turned his head. “Nok I assume?” Ficcabin finally muttered after a few moments. Nok smoothed the wrinkles from his robe before resting his folded hands on his lap. “I see you know me. Yet...I don’t know you. Seems inappropriate given what I’ve done for you,” Nok gestured at the cast on the givin’s body, “...and what you’ve done for me…” Ficcabin glanced down and realized just how badly in shape he truly was. His exoskeleton had been broken at the chest like a shell for some food. And his leg… Ficcabin felt a wave of pain wash over him at the sight. He remembered it now. The snake. The huge monster. So somehow he had survived the encounter. Ficcabin shook himself in fear, followed by another wave of pain from accidentally moving his leg. “Ow...ow...um, Ficcabin.. Ficcabin Yu-.” Ficcabin stopped himself from spilling his full name. No sense giving away who he was. “Ficcabin...Yu,” Nok arched an eyebrow. “I apologize for the pain, but I wanted you alert for this. Are you aware of your situation? You have made quite a mess of my ship. Droids destroyed, property ruined, ship damaged…” “Yes, well, if your looking for a payment for the damages…” Ficcabin groaned. “Well...my account is considerably less than or equal to what you would find acceptable. So, what do you want?” “A conversation for now. Perhaps we can start with an explanation of what you’re doing on my ship. More importantly, why are you on Garn?” Nok’s folded hands tightened, and his mouth turned down into a grimace. The Neimoidian’s visible annoyance made Ficcabin slightly nervous, but he tried not to show it. “Working on a scientific theory. Something you wouldn’t understand.” he lied, not sure if it was safer than the truth. “I suppose I could ask the same of you though. You have a lot of information on... ” Ficcabin had to struggle to remember the name. “Order of the Glare?” Nok’s breath caught. After a moment, he relaxed again, but his hands were now still. “You’ve been in my records I see.” Deciding to take a stab in the dark, Nok smiled. “That doesn’t seem in keeping with your morals...Jedi.” Ficcabin gave another look at the Neimoidian, then smiled to himself “eh, that could be up for debate.” No fear. Interesting… “Debate Ficcabin? Since you’ve examined my ship’s records, I imagine you know who...rather, what I am. And I highly doubt you belong to my little club, and I would only think a Jedi would be interested in these ruins. I could be wrong though.” Nok leaned forward, his ruined eyes fixed on the Givin. “What are you then? A treasure seeker? An adventurer? A failed Jedi? Oh, or maybe an exile?” Nok leaned back. “If you did look through my computer, then you know that I’m a wealthy man. Finding this place, and all the trouble you’ve caused me means you’re exceptionally talented...if somewhat aggravating. Perhaps you’re looking for employment?” “I’m a student” Ficcabin snapped slightly, not liking the threatening tone he detected. It made him nervous, to be in the belly of the beast as it were. “Nothing more than a person testing a theory. I’m not a Jedi but I’m studying them. Nothing wrong nor exceptional about that.“ Irritation, and only a touch of fear. “A scholar? I suppose that makes sense. Every Givin I’ve known has always been prone to analysis. Well, then perhaps this will interest you.” Nok stood, and walked over to his shelves of Sith and Jedi artifacts, the diametrically opposed relics sharing space in the lush chamber. “This here,” he said picking up what looked to be a fragment of what must have been a massive stone circle, covered in dots and lines carved in geometric perfection. “This is a piece of a Jedi starmap, recovered from a ruined temple on Lothal. I’ve put the word out to agents all over the galaxy for the remaining pieces, but unfortunately this is the only one I’ve been able to recover. And now,” Nok gestured at his eyes, “I doubt I’d be able to appreciate the finished piece of art even if I did assemble it.” “What happened, you got blindsided by a blaster or something?” Ficcabin asked, just now noticing the blindness of Nok. However, it was slightly strange, he did walk around well enough, unaided by any droid or stick. While the piece did interest him a little, Ficcabin’s priorities were focused on his captor. Nok’s breath came a little faster, as he remembered his last sight. The serpent lunging for him. “No,” he said after a pause. “I just...bit off more than I could chew you might say. The life of a Sith is not without sacrifice.” Nok deepened his voice almost unconsciously, hiding that he was barely an apprentice. Power is perception. Be seen as powerful, and you are powerful. “Right...well for a...sith or eccentric collector or whatever, you keep a certainly exotic pet” Ficcabin groaned again in pain. He needed to stop moving but he couldn’t help but try to sit up, only to fail. The givin’s pain washed across the room, his broken leg a candle to Nok’s senses. “My pet...yes. However, it seems we’ve gotten a bit off topic.” Nok put the star map fragment back in its place on the shelf. “Now, Ficcabin, we have a bit of a situation here. You know about me, about my business, and you know about my associations. Not a lot of people can claim to know two of those things, much less three. I’m not sure what to do with you,” Nok lied. “As I mentioned, employment is on the table if you want something lucrative. Or perhaps a trade. Some information perhaps in exchange for the risk I’d be imposing on myself by letting you go. Simple business and all. A balancing of the equation, if that makes you more comfortable.” Ficcabin stayed silent for a moment, trying to think things through. However, he quickly realized he had very little choice at the moment. “I suppose I could answer a few questions. Employment…” Ficcabin raised a hand and waved it slightly. “Eh, I like to keep my options open.” Nok’s smile was wooden as he turned around. Arrogant bonehead. “Very well. We’ll keep employment out of the discussion then.” Nok took his time striding back across the room before retaking his seat. “Now then, first question. You’ve studied the Jedi, correct? That’s what you said. So I want to ask you, what is your opinion of them?” Nok hoped his indirect, and seemingly harmless question would throw the givin. Plus, he was curious. Ficcabin’s curiosity was also piqued by the question. “Well, they are protectors of the galaxy, right? They strive to keep the galaxy in a position of peace through their connection with the Force. It’s just a pity it can be so hard to find them. ” “I asked for opinion Mr. Yu. Not propaganda. What do you really think about them? What’s your analysis?” Ficcabin had to think for a moment. He hadn’t really given the Jedi that much thought. In all of his travels, he was focused on the Force, which in turn forced him to study the Jedi. “Well...they are idealistic. They have something that a lot of my people don’t utilize that much. Hope. We focus on numbers and what will or will not be. The Jedi seem to be more focused on what could be.” Ficcabin nodded to himself, approving of this idea, then realizing he was missing a few details. “However, they are….too focused. They don’t attempt to expand themselves. Through all of my studies, the Jedi seemed very stuck on one variable and nothing more. Peace seemed to be all they were about, when there is so much more. Knowledge on how the galaxy worked, how the Force itself works. Where does it come from? What is it’s purpose? Is peace even the best final answer? In my studies, I didn’t find the Jedi address that.” Ficcabin turned his head back to the Neimoidian. “However, that may just be me.” Nok’s smile this time was genuine, creeping onto his ruined face. “We agree on something. The Jedi are limited. Like you say, they’re too focused. They don’t see the big picture. So, Ficcabin, if you’re interested in study and a more pragmatic approach, why not come to the Sith? We don’t have the same paranoia regarding knowledge that the Jedi have, and we value results over tunnel-vision ideals. Seems more fitting for you.” “Oh? And what are the Sith interested in? Power.” Ficcabin recalled the hologram that held the Sith code and the feeling it had given him as well as what Frond had said to him. “Power for power’s sake. What end goal is in there? That’s like looking at the beginning of the equation and never adding everything up. Power, but with no rules or knowledge is supreme chaos. No, from what I can tell, the Sith are worse off.” “I could say the same of knowledge for knowledge’s sake. What’s the point of learning all these facts if you don’t apply them? Knowledge without context is just numbers on a screen. And judging from the state of the galaxy, I’d say the Sith are doing fine. Heck, the Sith empire is in better shape then the Galactic Alliance right now.” Nok grinned. “Is that what you intend to be Ficcabin? A bystander?” Ficcabin had to shut up for the moment, caught off guard by what was said. Was he nothing more than a bystander? “I just want to know before I act. Action minus knowledge equals foolishness” Ficcabin quoted the old Givin saying, finding it less helpful than ever. He decided a change of subject was necessary. “What do my thoughts about the Jedi have to do with anything anyways?” Nok leaned back. “I was curious. I figured I could learn something about you.” Pausing for a few, deliberate moments, Nok continued, “Fine then, next question. What’s your end goal here, Givin? I don’t mean just on my ship or this planet, I mean in general. You claim you’re a student, you claim you want to know the facts before picking a side. I admire the approach, but what do you want in the end? A happy life on some safe hideaway? I can give that to you. Do you want to change the universe to suit your ideals? I can help with that. Or do you just want to be a spectator, watching from the sidelines while we all struggle and fight so that you can revel in how ‘knowledgeable’ you are? If so, please tell me. I know a few deep space observatories that could use a janitor.” “For a person who has me in their bed, you sure are fixated on keeping me as a bedmate” Ficcabin noted, annoyed once again and not wanting to answer the question. Nok chuckled. “Sorry, sorry. A weakness of my species. We’re greedy. Alright then, a more concrete question for you. What were you really doing on my ship?” Ficcabin attempted to find a better way of wording the answer then just ‘espionage’. All he wound up was “Doing a favor for a friend.” This puffed up accountant’s resistance was getting on Nok’s nerve, and the opportunity was too good to resist. Nok reached into his robes and drew out the severed hand of the tree Jedi. He let it fall to the carpeted floor. “All our friends can use a hand now and then.” Ficcabin fell silent again as he recognised the hand for whose it really was and the understanding of the situation. Frond went off to face the worm. Here, Nok held Frond’s hand. It didn’t take a Givin to do the equation. This worm, this creature, more dark and twisted than the snake, had dealt with his friend. A slight fear came up in Ficcabin’s throat Nok leaned forward, his tone turning low and vicious. “I left that thing lying on the ground after I pulled a vibroblade out of its face. I took that,” he gestured at the severed hand, “as a trophy to remember it by. Power for power’s sake might seem like chaos to you Ficcabin, but it means more in this universe than a few factoids and idealistic philosophies.” Ficcabin’s thoughts raced. Then, a slight smile crept inside of him. His mouth opened slightly, but what emerged wasn’t an answer. It was a laugh. “That’s it! That’s why you are so intent on gaining my employment, isn’t it? You aren’t strong enough!” Ficcabin made a very different connection that, had he not been in as much pain as he was, wouldn’t have made it in a stable mind. But the hand Nok presented reminded Ficcabin that Frond had never been as straight forward ever. “That pet of yours...that’s the worm! And you...you can’t beat it! You went and fought my friend and he showed you how weak you really are! I fought your pet and I lost. I know its power first hand! And it doesn’t take a genius or even a givin to know that two is greater than one! Tell me, was it Frond that made you blind? Or was it your pet?” Nok’s hands clenched as his teeth snapped shut. He’d been expecting the hand to have an effect on the givin, maybe a touch of real terror. But instead… “You...you think you know about me? About this?” He pointed at his eyes, his breathing coming faster as his anger rose and illuminated the room. “You have no idea who I am, or what I’ve done. I’ve destroyed colonies and killed dozens by my hands alone, and hundreds more have died by my decisions. That’s power Ficcabin,” Nok spat the name. “And yet you are still asking for my employment” Ficcabin breathed out, feeling his emotions rise slightly. Nok continued, barely hearing the givin mutter as his rant gained steam. “You think your knoweldge makes you better? Makes you powerful? I’ve seen people like you. Academics criticising the galaxy for not conforming to their perfect ideals. Half-cocked blackmailers who think an intercepted holomessage makes them kingpins of the underworld. No, Ficcabin, your knowledge means nothing out here, in the deep. Let me show you.” Nok let one of his knives drop into his hand. He walked over, standing over the prostrate givin. “I could kill you right now. Every hour of study, every precious brain cell, every perfect equation in that head of yours would mean nothing. Why? Because I have a knife and you don’t.” Nok spun away. “And tell me, what would that add to your existence?” Ficcabin asked after a moment of silence. “What does my death add? If i am zero like you seem to think, then nothing. The only reason you are trying to make yourself bigger over me is to prove you are better than nothing.” Nok’s smile returned as he looked over his shoulder at the givin. “Well...waste not.” Ficcabin didn’t fall into fear from what was meant to intimidate him. “Well if you are thinking of using a knife on me, you would do well to remember that your pet has bigger teeth.“ Nok’s lip curled into a sneer. “I’m not going to kill you Ficcabin. Using you was always the plan. How pleasant it was for you, that was your choice.” “Eh…” Ficcabin shrugged, still feeling a high from what he viewed as a win and not fully understanding what Nok meant. “As long as you’re paying the bills for these sheets” Nok’s fists clenched until his green knuckles turned white, his anger coalescing into rage. The Force shuddered and wrinkled around him, and the pain from his gritted teeth swelled to a sharp ache. The artifacts on the shelves, the blanket on the bed, the chair behind him, it all quivered. The fragment of the star chart rattled on the wood, the chair tipped and bounced on the floor, and the sheets crumpled and flattened over the bed. In the far corner of the room, the howlrunner skull danced on its pedestal before falling off onto the soft, expensive carpet. The thunk of it striking snapped Nok from his trance. His rage still burned, but his mind had the reins again. He stalked out. “X3, put the givin under, and restrain him in the medbay. Pilot! Set a course for Balmorra.”
  2. As Ficcabin flew through the air, his hand lost its grip on the femur bone. That improvised weapon, now dripping slightly with blood from the wound it had just caused, had been wielded with surprising efficiency. A scratch of the monster's belly and a wounding of its eye were feats worth bragging about. However, it was now lost in the yellow fungal-infused fog amongst the other bones of Garn's long dead residents. It would serve this fight no longer. After crashing into the ground, Ficcabin tried to work himself into a standing position, but wound up kneeling instead. The pain that shot up through his broken left leg was immense. Only the adrenaline allowed him to ignore the pain and focus on what was happening. In his mind, he was feeling nothing. There were no pains. There were no thoughts. There was only a powerful, overwhelming drive to succeed in this horrible game of survival. For a moment, there was stillness. The beast, blood running down its face, looked at him with a blood-fueled fury. Ficcabin, bent over on one knee, looked at it in fear. Instinctively Ficcabin knew this one moment would decide his fate. If he acted right, he would live. If he faltered, he would most likely die. This was a choice between the two most important numbers of the universe. To live was to become one, a number with infinite potential. To die was to become zero, the embodiment of nothing. Without a hint of hesitation, Ficcabin acted. This action was just as instinctual as the beast's actions had been throughout the entire fight. But this was different. Ficcabin's action was being influenced by something he had learned much earlier. The Force was in all things. It was in Frond, in Ficcabin, in his crystal, in the planet, in the bones, even in the fungus and the fog. The Force was in all things. And Ficcabin knew that this beast had the Force in it as well. In that lesson, Frond taught Ficcabin how to move small crystals through the Force. Here, through the Force, Ficcabin would move giant beasts. With both arms outstretched towards the towering monster, Ficcabin called the Force into one solid push. His mind was focused and driven. His thoughts were sharpened to a point by the adrenaline rush and by his instinct to survive. Nothing existed to Ficcabin. There was only the beast, Ficcabin and the connection between the two: The Force. (3)
  3. For the briefest moment, not even a millisecond long, Ficcabin experienced a moment of accomplishment. He saw that he had given the beast a scratch: his improvised weapon had broken off a piece of its reptilian armor. However, that feeling was once again replaced with panic. If all Ficcabin could do was give it a minor scratch, what hope was there? Perhaps death was the only way off this planet... No! I will not die here! Ficcabin clung to sanity like the fungus clung to the bones. The beast began to snap at the Givin. Ficcabin had turned over onto his back now and saw the teeth that came towards him. Once, twice and again, the monster’s teeth grappled nothing but air as Ficcabin flinched and flailed around dodging the attacks by a hair's width. The greatest scientists of Yag’Dhul would’ve praised such fortune. Only the slimmest of chances would have allowed such an inexperienced fighter to last as long as Ficcabin had. Most Givin believed in neither miracles nor fortune but instead in what could be calculated out. At the moment however, Ficcabin didn't have a chance to argue with blind luck. But the scientist's luck did not hold out. Upon its final snap, the monster's jaw wrapped itself about Ficcabin's foot and clamped shut. Ficcabin mentally screamed in pain. He could feel his exoskeleton as well as the muscle and nerve tissue underneath being crushed. Blood began to squirt and spill into the creature's mouth. Ficcabin's pained mind momentarily flashed back to the Beyond Shadows, back to where the cursed fountain stood alone in its power. The fear there was as strong as the fear Ficcabin felt now after he had abstained from drinking its foul fluid. However, the image in Ficcabin's mind was different. In his mind, the Font's contents had begun to rose to a bubbling boil. The blood like substance called more strongly now to Ficcabin, beckoning to drink and be made powerful. It promised a destruction of the monster that threatened the young scientist. This beast was like that of the Font: Powerful. If Ficcabin was to defeat it, he would also need to be powerful. If only he had not ran from it in fear before! He could've stayed in that perfect place and enjoy both knowledge and power for an eternity! In Ficcabin's mind, nearly blinded by pain, he could see himself taking a small drink from the fountain. Only a touch of power would've been needed. This brief vision, nothing more than a fancy and a desire to change the past, inspired Ficcabin. He was still in fear, but two forces drove his actions: A powerful instinct to live and the thought of what the Font could've provided. The creature's teeth still clenched and crunched Ficcabin's foot. But Ficcabin's hands, one still grasping the weapon from the dead, were free. Fueled with adrenaline, Ficcabin bent over and once again stabbed the bone towards his foe. But not at the monster’s side or belly. That had been a mistake. Now it's eye was within reach. I will not die here today! Ficcabin mentally screamed at the monster and himself. (2)
  4. 2...3...5...7...11... Ficcabin mentally thought to himself the sequence again and again, trying to hide the fear that crept into his mind. That presence of the predator he had felt in the ship was now stalking and giving chase. It was almost overwhelming the skeletal being with terror. Now among the dead corpses of the planets long gone residents, Ficcabin only hoped that he could lose the presence in the fog of the natural graveyard. The popping and hissing around him as he stumbled forward didn't make an impression anymore. His panicked mind had only one goal: get back to the ship. 13...17...19... Then he heard the voice. That presence he had felt in the force was now reaching out to him with a screech of rage, like a clawed hand attacking its prey. Hunger coated the words like deadly honey. Ficcabin's mind barely held on to the prime numbers. They were a scrap of bravery in this time of dread. 23...29...31...37... An audible sound of hissing, quite different from the deadly fungus that hissed from the bones of the dead, rose with the mental screech. Ficcabin turned to glance back behind him. Had he been breathing, he would have gasped in surprise. There he could see in the fog was a monster; a serpent of unnaturally large proportions, coiled and beginning to launch itself into the air towards the helpless scientist. 41...43....4- oh prime numbers I'm going to die, I'm going to die! Instincts had taken ahold of Ficcabin. But being a scientist and a freighter pilot with little combat experience meant that instinct held little insight for the Givin. This became very evident as the serpent launched itself. Ficcabin, in his surprise and terror, tripped over a corpse and fell to the ground, dirt and fungus staining his pilot suit completely. Above and before him the serpent went, it's target now flat with the ground. The crash of the beast caused more bones to fulfill their purpose of releasing more fungus into the air. Ficcabin felt something in his hand as he began to face the monster. In his hand was a bone that had been snapped and broken at one of its ends. The broken end of the bone was now a bunch of deadly sharp points with the fungus creeping out. Prime numbers, the Force, Frond, anything, save me! Ficcabin cried out mentally. With blind instinct and pure desperation, Ficcabin wielded and drove the fungal-infused femur forward at the snake's body. While a sane man or a trained one would have utilized the blaster in his holster, Ficcabin was approaching the breaking point of his own mind. (1)
  5. As Ficcabin stared a bit longer at this 'Sith Code', he barely heard the slight splat of a liquid hitting the tabletop beside him. He looked down, slightly started at how a black spot had appeared on the table. Ever the scientist, Ficcabin bent down to examine it closely, careful not to touch it. He couldn't make it out what exactly it was, but had the membrane not sealed his nasal senses, he would have sworn it smelled of death. Ficcabin felt a chill overflow him again. It was the same as outside. Even as new to the Force as he was, he felt a twisted coldness around him. He could only compare it to the feeling of being watched by something primal; a slight numbing tingle at the back of the neck that slowly worked its way down to the legs, dancing lightly at the stomach. Something both similar and vastly different to what he felt at the Font of Power. There the presence was a dominating, overwhelming presence of dominance at the Font. Here it was subtler, like that of a creature who lived its whole life hunting in the darkness. The Wookies of Kashyyyk had a description for it. It felt like when a predator was reading to strike. Ficcabin had to get out now. The date now downloaded, Ficcabin retrieved his data pad. The droids banged on the door again, shouting for Ficcabin's surrender. That way was not possible for him now, especially since he had sealed the door. Looking about the room, Ficcabin silently wondered if the owner had the idea to put in a secret escape hatch or something similar. Let's see, hatch, hatch, maybe a hatch... Ficcabin thought as he looked under the bed and in the closet full of extravagant clothing. After a few moments he cursed himself for sealing the door behind him. He should have tried to led the droids on a wild goose chase or something. Ficcabin stopped. Perhaps he still could... Back at the computer, Ficcabin began to type madly. The droids had stopped banging. Ficcabin was sure that they were now attempting to hot wire the door directly. After a few commands, the ship began to emit several klaxon sounds, issuing a warning, specifically one of a fire. Ficcabin couldn't help but smile as a few rooms, including the one outside and one near the entrance, began to emit a fire suppressant and the air vents kicked into high gear. The droids outside screamed slightly in surprise and no doubt began to investigate where the fires were supposedly occurring. Ficcabin figured he gave himself about 5 more minutes. Still, those curtains will be ruined no dou... Ficcabin snapped his fingers. That's it! Ficcabin pulled the curtains in the room aside and praised the prime numbers. The window let in a yellow light from outside onto Ficcabin's face. He had a way and a few minutes. He could blast the window, but no doubt such a material would be blaster proof and too solid for him to break by hand. Perhaps there was a release lever or something... After a few moments Ficcabin cursed out loud and banged the wall. Normally the manufactures of these luxury liners, Sorosuub, would have an access panel that could be removed by hand, where a release valve to the window would be. Instead this custom liner had it sealed over, only accessible by a droid or with the proper tools. Even the ship's computer wouldn't have access to such a manual system. And given that the owner was a greedy Nemodian, he probably always had a droid with him, including his room. There was no way the young Givin could get at it without the proper tools. Ficcabin sighed in frustration. This was hopeless. He knew he was doomed to fail here. Soon the droids would return, hotwire the door and kill the scientist. He racked himself over the head a few times, cursing being so stupid. Ficcabin sat on the floor and looked at the wall. Absentmindedly he slipped his hands into his pockets, and felt the cooling presence of the crystal. The young scientist pulled and stared at it for a moment. Its questioning presence comforted him for a moment, before letting his brain pose a few thoughts. What would it take to remove the panel? Several hours or a droid input controller. What if he didn't have to pull the panel out? Was there a way to access it? No, it didn't seem likely. What about with the Force? Ficcabin looked up. That was an idea. He had moved the crystal earlier without touching it. He knew how the Sorosuub designed their levers. It was just a question of whether he had to see it or not. Still, he had very few other options. Ficcabin closed his eyes and internally began to count. As the prime numbers formed in his head, he began to allow the peaceful presence of the force to flow over him, but it was different this time. There was something else there. That chilling presence of a predator, ever so subtle. It troubled Ficcabin, but he ignored it for now. The presence of his crystal was stronger. It overwhelmed the other presence to Ficcabin. The serenity soon began to overtake Ficcabin, to the point that he almost forgot his intention. Still, he knew what to do. The peacefulness began to open his mind's eye. Beyond the plate he could visualize the wires, the gears, the seal between the glass and the metal. Ficcabin's mind traced the seal, following it down, finding the place where some more metal met the seal. Soon, a lever began to form in his mind. Ficcabin's physical hand gripped tightly into a fist and began to lift up. When nothing happened, Ficcabin wasn't surprised. Last time with Frond he had failed to move the crystal multiple times. It stood to reason that he wouldn't succeed at first. Again... Ficcabin said, refocusing himself. The crystal in his palm glowed slightly. Ficcabin's mind began to imagine the picture more accurately. The smoothness of the metal. The solidity of the metals mixed into an alloy. The way the gear could slide in one direction. Ficcabin's mind took a sharp breath of pain then refocused as the lever suddenly turned. The glass before him made a loud clunk noise as it was moved out of place and fell forward outside. Ficcabin opened his eyes as the fog began to sweep in. Ficcabin didn't even look back as he climbed out, attached his towline to the exterior of the ship, climbed down, depowered the towline, and ran off into the fog at full sprint. There was a certain panic in his movements. For as he had focused and pulled the lever, he had a flash of an image of the thing that sat above him in the vents. A predator of primal intent.
  6. Now having just entered the ship, Ficcabin glanced around and stopped. This room that could only be described as an observation suite, glowed with riches. Vibrant red carpets and curtains with gold and black trim barely revealing the outside world gave the room a distinct blue-blooded look. The fancy plates of silver that sat on the glossy kriin-wood tables, the soft couches of the finest materials, ranging from furs to synthetic fibers, the perfectly clean untainted glasses, the low small, but extravagant golden lights, the faceless edgeless statue in the corner; all of these spoke a roaring sound of aristocracy. Someone is quite sure of himself Ficcabin chuckled to himself. Still, he couldn't help but admire and even be a little jealous of the extravagance of the ship. The contents of this room were more than what Ficcabin could earn in a lifetime as a pilot, or even in a governmental position on Yag'Dhul. Still, the colors made him a bit nervous. It reminded him of the slow oozing blood of a wound. However, the danger of the situation cut Ficcabin's nervousness short. No doubt the battle droids were rushing up here. He looked around for a hiding place. He was half tempted to try to hide under the couches or behind the cooler in the corner, but he saw that next to the hallway door was another doorway. Expecting a closet, Ficcabin rushed in and pressed the keypad behind him. The sound of the door whishing shut was followed by a blaster shot at the control panel, rending the door locked and shut down. It would take a little bit of time for the droids to open it back up. Having found a safe moment, Ficcabin turned his attention to the contents of the room. It wasn't a closet as he expected; it was a bedroom. The enormous bed of silk, complete with the same trim as the observation suite, made that clear enough. The floor had a darker shade of red to it, while the walls were decorated with woven tapestries of expressionism work. The ceiling had a chandelier, made especially small to fit the room. On a pedestal near a window sat a pristine, white, humanoid skull. As Ficcabin stepped further in, he saw that on one wall were numerous shelves of assorted objects. Artistic shards of crystalline material intermingled with small objects of wood and metal. Ficcabin picked a spherical object up, turning it over. He recognized the worn markings of Jedi symbols. Was this person an eccentric collector or possibly a searcher like Ficcabin was on Illum? Ficcabin put the object down and turned away. He looked at the skull on the other side of the room and shivered. It felt like the skull was looking at him, smiling at some unknown secret. One would think that a Givin would be used to seeing skeletons, but after the experience outside with the bones and fungus, the pristine whiteness of this skull felt out of place and wrong. Ficcabin couldn't help but start to walk over and turned it slightly. However he stopped. Ficcabin noticed a control panel for the hologram projector set in with the chandelier. Turning it on, Ficcabin found that whoever used it last had set it to read some audio and began where it left off. "The Order of the Terrible Glare seemed to had been destroyed by a mixture of orbital bombardment and ground troops, most likely led by the Jedi Order. However, evidence indicates that the plant life was already in the process of being changed before the destruction of the splinter group. It is unclear whether or not the world was changing naturally or as a result of what the Order of the Terrible Glare unique attempts at Force Manipulation, including those of binding souls...." The Order of the Terrible Glare? A splinter group of the Jedi? Binding souls? Ficcabin wondered. It was at this moment he realized there was so much of the Jedi he didn't know about. Their history, their central beliefs and their moral codes were all unknown to him still. Ficcabin made a mental note to ask Frond about this later. However, another question came to Ficcabin. What kind of person was this, to collect Jedi objects, to fly a luxury yacht to a dead world and to have research about the Order of the Terrible Glare? Ficcabin tapped the control panel a few times. The room darkened as a holographic image formed around the now black chandelier. The planet Garn. Data came up alongside the image, reading what Ficcabin was hearing already. Ficcabin tapped a few times and pulled up the list of files on the ship's computer, looking for an indication of who exactly this ship belonged to. One file caught his eye. A business report, entitled to a Nok Morliss. Ficcabin opened it up and almost whistled. Nok was a rich Nemodian. A very rich Nemodian. While Ficcabin didn't fully understand all the business expenditures and profits, he recognized a greedy tycoon when he saw one. Back on Yag'Dhul, Givins had a running joke for Nemodians. A Nemodian is so greedy, he would sell you a bottle of air and ask for the bottle back. Ficcabin imagined his friends saying. Still, there was a lot on his computer, too much for Ficcabin to go over at the moment. The droids were already beginning to bang on the doorway, as futile as it was. They would need to hotwire the ship's doorway itself, which would take time. Ficcabin brought out his own data pad and connected it with the control panel. What he would do is try to copy some of the most important information, such as the report on Garn, the ship's flying codes and previous piloting destinations, and a small section of the business report. Perhaps with this information, Ficcabin could do some private investigating of this Nok. However, three other files caught the young scientist's eye. Jedi Meditations and Midi-chlorian Test were the first two he opened. The first wasn't anything special, but Ficcabin couldn't help but admire. The holograph before him showed a robed individual practicing the very things Frond had shown, as well as some other techniques. This definitely was something to be copied into the data pad. The test on the other hand interested Ficcabin's scientific brain. It appeared there was a direct correlation between these organisms and the force, from what the data was saying. Ficcabin wondered if this was something that he himself should test. Judging by the results, this Nok was a force sensitive, just like the young Givin. Ficcabin added this file to be copied and finally opened the last file. The Code of the Sith It was a short file. Only a few lines long. However, as the hologram carved them out in the air like a bloody knife, the computer read these aloud. "Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me." Ficcabin's hands shook. Something about all of this felt so wrong. What Frond had taught was knowledge and power, but through peacefulness and serenity. He knew the force as life and death. This code spoke of passion and broken chains. A code for violence. A Nemodian, with a greedy appetite. A searcher of Jedi relics, but with a connection to the Force. And a follower of this Sith Code... Ficcabin had to get off this cursed planet. His very being was screaming at him to get off this planet. He and Frond should not be here, on a planet of a dead Jedi sect who intended to bind a being's soul. No doubt, this Nok was the worm that Frond talked about. And Frond went off to find him... Ficcabin coldly realized in horror. He looked at the skull on the pedestal. In his mind, Ficcabin swore it smiled at his fear for his friend.
  7. A slight chill went up Ficcabin's spine again as he suddenly turned around, thinking he heard something. It was almost like a voice, but as he looked around there were no living things around. Just a play on my imagination. Yes, that's it. I found a ship and expected someone to be here so I thought I heard someone. Ficcabin mentally reassured himself. But the feeling wasn't easily shaken off. There were eyes in the ground, and not just the bones. He could feel it in his being. No matter, he had a mission. Well, less of a mission and more of recon. As Ficcabin got closer to the ship, he could identify it as a Personal Luxury Yacht 3000. Ficcabin gave a slight shaking of the head, regarding the ship as nothing more then just a fancy transport. Pirates in deep space would have eagerly loved to get their hands on it only for the suggestion of what cargo would lay inside: important potential hostages. But Ficcabin wasn't a pirate. Still, what kind of businessman or aristocracy comes all the way out here, the middle of nowhere, with just a yacht? This question puzzled the young scientist for a bit. However, Frond indicated that the darkness or the residue of the darkness was on board. And if that was true, Ficcabin didn't want to get discovered easily. Still, the front door seemed the way t... "HALT!" a robotic voice shouted as Ficcabin started to step into the ship. Ficcabin recognized the droid model instantly. A well-polished OOM battle droid hefted its blaster towards the young scientist. These kind of battle droids weren't widely used anymore, if Ficcabin recalled correctly. Only a few antique collectors and maybe some Hutts would keep them around if Ficcabin recalled correctly. That or perhaps a Nemodian. But that raised another question. Why would any of those kind of beings be here? "HALT UH, SKELETON THING. DROP YOUR WEAPON" the battle droid commanded again. Ficcabin looked down at his hand, not realizing he had pulled his gun from the holster. Well, if there’s a darkness inside, I probably don't want to be taken prisoner Ficcabin reasoned as he quickly brought the pistol up and fired without hesitation. The blast hit the droid in the chest. At such close range and weak armor, the droid stood no chance and fell down, giving a dying buzz of a scream. Ficcabin could hear metal footsteps come from deeper in the ship. With their comrade dead, they would not hesitate to open fire. Ficcabin dashed out of the entry way and along the side of the ship, an idea in his head. As he did, he holstered his pistol and grabbed the personal tow cable on his belt to unwind it. Personal Yachts like these often had a viewing area on the stern of the ship. The tow cable was often used in space to attach himself to the ship when he had to perform exterior repairs. However, Ficcabin discovered that with the magnetization hook on the end, it was possible to pull drifting debris towards himself, or himself towards his ship. Sure enough, the ship held an observation deck, complete with railings. Ficcabin inwardly smiled as he swung the cable and threw it up, praying it would catch. The droids were coming off the ship now, trying to see if they could find the intruder. The fog disoriented them for a bit, but Ficcabin knew they would be at the back soon enough. Under Zero... Ficcabin mentally cursed as the cable fell back to the ground, unable to make a solid connection with the ship. He gathered again and threw. A sound of a clink and a buzz as the hook activated, attaching itself to the hull of the ship. Ficcabin didn't have a chance to celebrate as a droid spotted him and began to open fire. A blaster bolt went past Ficcabin as he clicked a button on the box at his side. The box began to recoil the cable line and hoisted the young Givin up towards the observation deck. The droids below opened fire again and again, each shot missing but getting closer to their target. Just as Ficcabin hoisted himself over the edge of the ship, a shot sailed past where he his head was a moment before. Now he was safe....momentarily. Ficcabin stood and dashed into the ship, blaster in hand again, trying to ignore that dark presence he swore was just his imagination.
  8. Ficcabin looked at Frond curiously, not sure how the atmosphere was interacting with such a strange species. He himself had to hold back a gag after breathing in some of the air. Judging by the smell and slight taste, the yellow fog seemed to be composed of some sulfur, a toxic element if Ficcabin had to say. No wonder the dead trees around seemed to stretch their limbs to the sky like beggars. But with Frond he seemed to bare no ill effects. Yet. At his first question, Ficcabin looked at the landscape. No doubt Frond was talking about what he felt with the Force and not what his physical body felt. But Ficcabin wasn't as eager to explore this place with his new sense as Frond seemed to be. He didn't need the Force to tell him that this place was of death. However, his words surprised him. How can such a place be of the light? Or dark for that matter? Perhaps this is just a natural thing. A leak of gases from the planet's core could easily cause....this Ficcabin gestured to the fog around them. However in his heart he knew this was wrong. Something about this place felt very unnatural. This barren landscape wasn't artificial, but altered in some magnificent, but horrible way. If Ficcabin was a braver soul, he would have insisted on studying the planet further. But something about the way the fog clung to the dead trees chilled him. But if Frond was correct, that meant the light could be just as destructive as the dark. When Frond pointed in the direction where the other ship was, Ficcabin was surprised. He hadn't told Frond yet where the ship was. He planned on it, but his friend had beaten him to it. "Ya, the droids think it’s a luxury liner of some kind. It might be a halfway decent idea to investigate it, though that would mean splitting us up and given you are a tree and these trees are already dead and if that ship radiates darkness then that means I could be in danger going there and besides I'm just a little young to be going alone so perhaps we could stick together... Ficcabin stopped himself, realizing he was on the point of babbling, something he did when he was nervous. Why was he nervous? "You're right of course. You investigate the temple or whatever, and I'll investigate the ship. Just, um...don't die alright? Parting ways with Frond, Ficcabin began to walk towards where the other ship awaited. After a few steps Ficcabin had to stop, choking on the air again. What was that stuff? He had to refocus himself. Thankfully, he had one distinct advantage over this environment. Like flexing a muscle, Ficcabin moved the membrane inside his skeletal system, causing it to make a seal around his organs. Having evolved on a planet that had places vacuum, the Givin developed a membrane that sealed their inner organs from the outside environment. The cold vacuum of space couldn't suck the organs out, and now, the gases of Garn couldn't infest his lungs. While some Givin chose to continually keep this inner membrane sealed at all times except during eating and when needed to breathe, Ficcabin found that having it open at all times until necessary made him more comfortable, while sealing it made him more focused. This explained why he ate so much at Felucia. During his time in Beyond Shadows, he had instinctively sealed his membrane, forcing his physical body to consume what fat he had inside his exoskeleton. Now sealed and breathless, Ficcabin walked forward through the fog. He stumbled a bit, the craggy and broken ground throwing him for a loop, but he made good time. But as he traveled, his thoughts remained back with Frond. I wonder if he will suffer from whatever this fog is? The chances of him dying here from a short exposure of, say, an hour would probably only...be Ficcabin tapped the back of his neck. Eh, negligible. About 20 minutes into the walk, Ficcabin had to stop, hearing a crunch and a slight hiss under his feet. Looking down, he found that he had stepped on something. It was not rock. It was white. Almost like a... Ficcabin fell backwards in surprise and then bolted upright. He approached the ancient skeleton carefully, examining it only by sight and not touch. It was humanoid, though the skull had a slightly larger cranium then usual. All of its teeth were still intact, but the rest of the bones seemed to have deep brown and black splotches on them. The splotches looked like to have bubbles of a translucent membrane. Poking at the bones once, Ficcabin made another discovery. The splotches on the bone suddenly hissed as some of the bubbles burst open. A slightly darker gas escaped and dissipated, mixing with the fog. Seeds... Ah! This must be a fungus, and this skeleton's bone marrow was a nutrient source. How the bone marrow lasted this long is beyond me though. When I get back, Frond and I are getting cleansing showers Ficcabin stood up. In the distance the fog became much thicker. It was as if the entire area was covered with the fungus. But how? With no living matter... Ficcabin received his answer. A few more steps forward and he heard another crunch and hiss. He had accidentally stepped on another skeleton. And a bit further on he could see another. To the side there were a few more. And back the way he came he saw he had missed a few. The animated skeleton looked about him franticly, his hands shaking a bit. He was in a literal graveyard. Alright, focus Ficcabin, there’s nothing to worry about here. After all, I'm not breathing so I can't inhale the fungus, and I doubt it would kill me....immediately. My bones are perfectly in tact so it can't eat at my marrow. Just have to keep going forward. Just... forward. Ficcabin kept on, hesitantly. With each step he had to navigate over some more bones, and occasionally he would hear them hiss at the slightest touch or even on their own, feeding the thick fog around. This psychological torment was maddening to say the least. Ficcabin was tempted multiple times to turn back and retreat to the safety of his own ship. However, one thought kept him going. The Force is life. The Force is death. The force is life. The force is death. The mantra Frond gave to Ficcabin was a strange comfort. Even among these bones and fungi, the Force was still here. True it had taken on a very ugly shape, but knowing that this was still part of the force made him a bit more at rest, or at least brave enough to take another step. Finally, Ficcabin emerged from the thickest parts of the fog and could see the outline of a ship ahead.
  9. Above the thick yellow mists suddenly appeared the old transport ship. Ficcabin looked out the window and remained silent. Normally what he would do when arriving on a completely new world would be to give a quick scan over the area, register the planet in his data pad, and record as much information for future study. However, whether it was because Ficcabin wasn't in his personal ship or because of the recent training he had with Frond, Ficcabin simply looked in slight horror. This world was so dead. He didn't need a scan to tell that. Ficcabin could vaguely see the shapes of dead trees, stretching their old dry limbs into the sky as if pleading for help or trying to grasp at the last bits of oxygen. The fog caked the ground, occasionally giving glances of a cracked rocky surface. Ficcabin hoped to see some sign of life: perhaps a dashing of a helpless animal, or a leaf clinging desperately to survive, or maybe a pool of dirty water or filthy mud. But Ficcabin only could see a dry carcass of a world long gone. But what was worse was the chilling presence. Ficcabin couldn't be sure if it was the Force or just his own imaginings, but the world felt something akin to stale, arid, and cold. Frond you really know how to pick places. Ficcabin muttered as he began to scan, finally falling back into his habits. There were two things that caught his attention. There seemed to be some kind of structure on the planet. While he needed more time to be sure, it appeared to be an abandoned structure. The other thing was a ship, a distance away from the ruins. Ficcabin focused his attention on the ship: the droids gave an initial readout: a luxury liner. As they read an approximate of the model, Ficcabin grew more puzzled. Such a ship had no place being here. Was this the darkness Frond was worrying about? But even at this question, Ficcabin felt that the ruins held what Frond was looking for. He couldn't explain it. It just felt like Frond was supposed to go there. "Frond" Ficcabin stated over the intercom. "I'm making a landing now, so brace yourself. There seems to be some ruins there, so I figure we could start there." As the ship landed, Ficcabin could see the silhouettes and outlines of ruins in the distance. The ship was further away off to their right, invisible in the fog, but Ficcabin marked it on his data pad, now downloaded with a scan of the planet. He rushed to Frond at the entrance, double-checking that he had everything: his blaster at his side, his personal tow cable, and his data pad. Ficcabin looked up at the tree, trying to hide the fact that he was uncomfortable with this place already. "Well Frond, shall we?"
  10. Ficcabin

    Space

    Ficcabin stood with Frond, a new feeling of joy taking place. These 'first steps' comforted the scientist. However at the question, Ficcabin stood silent, his uncertainty speaking volumes. He wasn't sure if he was wanting to become a so called Jedi, or at least take in the indoctrination of being a Jedi. Master Vos had said something about Ficcabin was already a jedi or something, but surely he only meant being able to sense the Force. Ficcabin, like he told himself before, was a scientist, not a religious mystic. He only wanted to study the Force. But that was before all these encounters. Now, he was very unsure what he should be. As Frond led the way deeper into the ship, Ficcabin listened and nodded. The concept made sense. In the Beyond Shadows, there was Knowledge and there was Power. One needed to balance the other. However, if Ficcabin understood Frond correctly, it seemed that the Jedi were forces of light and knowledge and that this darkness, this power, was growing wild and unkept. But to join one side would make the equation of the Force unbalanced. Would that mean that neither the Jedi, or this darkness, were correct paths? Was there a right answer to this question? Ficcabin shook his head in confusion. I, um... Ficcabin gave a few moments of silence as he tapped his fingers on the back of his neck, as if he was calculating something. He breathed a sigh of relief and secretly thanked the Prime numbers as the ship wide comms dinged and Frond requested for Ficcabin to land the ship. He needed to think a bit more before making such a decision. Ficcabin rushed to the cockpit, Frond remaining behind. Taking a seat, he settled into position and brought the ship out of hyperspace, unaware what adventure held for him on Garn. (Follow up post on Other Words)
  11. Ficcabin

    Space

    The small skeletal being listened to the tree's chanting which required no translating. It was rather beautiful and to his guilty state, slightly redeeming. As Frond said each word, Ficcabin tried to memorize it, tried to keep it in his head. The last words hit him a little harder then the others but it didn't bother him. He simply listened and memorized. Alright. Ficcabin said. He glanced at the cube before him, an object that looked much more serene now then before, and closed his eyes and tried to recite the words. "There is none but the Force... Ficcabin started, then exhaled slowly. His mind was still troubled, but he pushed the chaotic thoughts away and focused on the words. "I am a disciple of the one Force... Ficcabin let the number slip, truly unaware that he said it. The feeling of peace was beginning to return. Ficcabin wanted to fight it, to not let himself be a servant, but at the same time, he wanted to embrace it. "Those who seek to control the Force are but...servants, no, vessels of its will. Those who seek the bend the Force are but vessels of its will... Ficcabin struggled to get the words right, correcting himself. He almost began again entirely but found it impossible to stop. It wasn't a fear of failing, but rather, Ficcabin just felt called to continue. "The will of the Force will right all wrongs... Ficcabin exhaled again, the feeling of Peace beginning to flow stronger over him. But it didn't surprise him. It made him feel at ease with his own mind. "The Force guides all, but all are free to choose... The images of Coruscant popped into Ficcabin's head like a stray blaster shot. Ficcabin took a sharp breath in shock. For a moment Ficcabin was threatened to lose the peace he was finding. "All knowledge and power is of the Force... However the images were soon replaced. Three bodies of water: a pool, a lake and a fountain. All three were in tune with each other, singing their own individual songs to create a perfect harmony. Coruscant faded away. "The Force is life... The crystal was much easier to sense in the serenity that Ficcabin found himself in. It began to naturally take shape in Ficcabin's mind. Mentally he stretched out to touch and hold it. The crystal popped a question into Ficcabin's head, to which he answered instinctively. "The Force is death. Ficcabin's physical hand outstretched itself, perfectly relaxed and at ease. For a few single precious moments Ficcabin was perfectly at peace, seeing the crystal before him despite his closed eyes. To Frond, it may have appeared Ficcabin stopped breathing. But slowly, the crystal began to shake and then slowly lift itself into the air, a few centimeters at a time, until it hovered gently a foot off the ground. Ficcabin called to it, and began to gently pull it towards him. Ficcabin opened his eyes and breathed out. In his open palm the crystal rested. Ficcabin looked at his friend, unsure what to say.
  12. Ficcabin

    Space

    Well from what I can tell... Ficcabin took a quick glance through the ship's logs as well as his own personal data pad, seeing what information he had. He was surprised at his findings. ...there's nothing there. I mean there is a planet there, but as far as I can tell, nothing notable, even with the Jedi's information. Maybe this ship is outdated, or maybe the Jedi have something there that is on a need to know basis. Ficcabin considered this a little odd though. Still, this was Frond's 'vision' and Ficcabin's interpretation of it. Maybe he did something wrong? However this thought was quickly banished. The chance of him coming up with the exact coordinates to a planet in a system no one had heard of before was less than or equal to .005, give or take some figures. Still, what an odd place. Perhaps the Force, as Frond kept calling it, was guiding him there, but that made Ficcabin wonder a question. Does the Force control all actions, or do people's actions control the force? When Frond left for the back areas of the ship, indicating for Ficcabin to follow, he stalled for a few moments to ponder the question. The crystal in his pocket seemed to hum silently in his brain, as if thinking with him. If the Force controlled all, that would indicate both it's sentience and willpower. Such a though excited Ficcabin. Such a discovery would be monumental to all cultures who ever conceived of ideas of deities and extra planer spirits, being able to attribute everything that ever existed to 'The Force". Not to mention, it would be exactly what Ficcabin would need to help complete his theory. Surely a way to study how much the force deemed things worthy existed. Everything, from the airless parts of Yag'Dhul to the remains of Corescant would add up to the perfect number: The Force. One. This would make him the greatest scientist of all time! However, such a discovery would also be horrible to all beings that sought freedom. Choice would be an illusion. All would be slaves to this power. While every event would have a reason behind its doing, everything would be powerless to stop events from happening. The long ago Clone wars, followed by the terrible Galactic Empire. The destruction of Coruscant. All those tragedies that happened were simply events the Force deemed necessary, or worse something to please its boredom. If the Force controlled all actions, then Ficcabin would become the worst philosopher of all time, finding a reason for every tyrant, murderer, psychopath and rogue to exist: the Force deemed it so. Ficcabin shook his head. He couldn't remain on this thought for now. Something for the future to wonder about. Ficcabin made his way to where Frond was, not noticing how there were no windows back here. He sat down cross-legged trying to imitate the tree and listened carefully, trying to translate everything quick enough to make a respectable reaction. Yes, this crystal does seem to connect me to what you call the Force. Ficcabin didn't think now was the best time to bring up his line of thought. As a scientist, he needed to gather information first, and then hypothesize. So Ficcabin listened and began to obey. Closing his eyes with the crystal before him, Ficcabin attempted to empty his mind again like before. He wanted to once again let the force flow through him. But this time was different. This time his mind kept getting clouded. The question kept popping up, momentarily distracting him. He would push it away but it would return like an asteroid in orbit. He could sense his crystal but only that. It helped him focus at moments but overall he was distracted. It began to show when Ficcabin had to stop, take a deep breath, and utter a few prime numbers. As he refocused himself and emptied his mind, the picture came together a bit more but doubt still dwelled in the back of his head. Ficcabin recalled how Frond had retrieved the seed from the Font of Power. Surely this is what Frond wanted Ficcabin to do. But how? Ficcabin felt the presence of the crystal for a moment longer then attempted something. In his mind, he imagined his skeletal hand, reaching out to touch the crystal. The hand would apply exactly half of a newton of Force, lifting it against the force of gravity. The crystal would lift slowly and gently, upwards, and float in the air. Any moment it would happen. Any moment... Ficcabin opened his eyes to disappointment. The cube remained where it sat, unmoved and untouched. Again Ficcabin told himself. He began to repeat the process of using the prime numbers. The image of the hand reached out to grab the crystal, a bit more forceful this time. He instinctively reached his hand out a bit to help guide his mind. Again, nothing occurred. Even as Frond spoke about frustration, fear and anger, this only made Ficcabin more annoyed with both the tree and himself. Again the focus. Again the counting. Again the failing. Perhaps this is the will of the Force? You aren't suppose to lift it yet? Ficcabin thought as he attempted again. Perhaps this is the proof you need? Proof that the Force controls all. The image returned to Ficcabin's mind. Not one of the crystal before him, or of the one Frond had. It was the one Ficcabin saw in the pool. The crashing of the moon. The massive destruction of the jewel of the galaxy. The countless lives lost forever, brought down to zero. All those who died were simply supposed to die. Nothing could have stopped it. No... Ficcabin almost growled aloud as his mind went down a dark trail of thinking. His eyes, open, focused on the crystal before him. To the Givin, nothing else existed in the entire galaxy except him and the crystal. A sentient being, an object to be moved and a point to be made. Ficcabin was a scientist. As a scientist, he studied the world around him, and with knowledge in hand, he controlled that world to serve sentients like him. This Force was no different. For a brief moment, Ficcabin imagined the Font of Power. Then he clenched both his physical and mental hand into a fist, and pulled back. The crystal shook for a moment, then turned over forwards once. Ficcabin didn't feel joy as he had expected to with this accomplishment. He rubbed his face, unable to look at Frond. I don't think I did that right...
  13. Ficcabin

    Space

    At Frond's words Ficcabin nodded, only half-listening. His intimate relationship with flying made him a bit oblivious to things around him sometimes, which many would've considered rude. Ficcabin himself saw it as that flying was an important and risky task, filled with countless dangers that always required pure focus. It was almost a pity most older individuals who attempted conversation with the Givin during flying procedures saw him more as rude rather than focused. Oh well. However, at his own question, it was obvious something bothered Frond. Ficcabin couldn't determine exactly what, but for a moment he thought he saw a moment of worrying thought on the tree's face. It was only for a moment before he replied, but Frond was deep in thought like a worried traveler, unsure what was about to happen. His words only confirmed Ficcabin's thoughts. He had no idea where they were going, just an idea. For a moment, Ficcabin was annoyed. Even a unprofessional pilot had an idea where to go. If he didn't know the exact system, he knew at least a sector to start in. If he didn't have that, he knew a system that would hold someone who did know. But instead, this time he was flying by instinct and not thought. However, this moment of annoyance passed, rebuked by his inner sense of respect for the tree. Again, he owed Frond enough to let him decide where to go, and if by Ficcabin's instinct was how he chose, then so be it. "Alright, but let me say that I'd rather have my ship for unknown locations" Ficcabin declared as he let go of the controls and closed his eyes. When he had done this before, it was a simple matter to let the overwhelming presence of peace in that distant realm to guide his thoughts into meditation or whatever the Jedi called it. He expected it to be harder here, but not this hard. Before it was like letting in an ocean of pure water. Here it was like a tainted puddle. There was a lot more noise. He couldn't explain it fully, but the machinery around Ficcabin, from the droids to the ship controls, seemed to reflect the living presence around him, dirtying it ever so slightly. A minor distraction to people who had practiced this skill over and over again proved to be a major barrier to Ficcabin. Perhaps later when he could test this meditation he would figure out a way to ignore it instantly, but for now he needed to focus on Frond's mind. "Ach, I'm sorry, one moment please. I'm still new to this..." Once again Ficcabin pulled that perfect cube and set it on the controls before him. His mind slowly opened to the peace around him, with the crystal's questioning nature shining through like a light in the darkness, followed by the presence of power that came from Frond's chest. They both slowly illuminated Ficcabin's new sense to the realm of peace that the planet below gave off. Ficcabin welcomed it eagerly, eager to bathe in it once more. Ficcabin inwardly smiled as he began to 'sense' that living presence that emitted from his friend. He wanted to remark how it felt, but he was too lost in thought to attempt the simplest of descriptions. As he let himself go, Ficcabin began to what he would describe as 'see' in his mind's eye. An infinite thick yellow choking fog. A lone dead tree. A presence of something twisted. For a moment Ficcabin wanted to attempt to grasp reality once more, hating the confusing picture he saw, but something else was coming to. Stars. For the briefest moment, Ficcabin sensed the stars. Massive burning points of hydrogen. 1.008, times the seven of them, while the fog was made of something dense like, 43.7033 with infinite touches of 12.231, with an isolated tree that wasn't perpendicular... 130 degrees, with a square root of... An equation was forming in Ficcabin's head. No not an equation, a formula. Ficcabin felt a rise of excitement as it came together. The picture faded but the numbers briefly resonated a perfect harmonious song to Ficcabin's spirit. It wasn't a formula. It was simpler. It was all one set. Ficcabin opened his eyes. Had there been facial muscles, a grin would've been on his face. Hey calculators, identify system... Ficcabin began to recite the coordinates as he looked at the star maps on his own data pad to calculate the fastest route. The droids looked at each other for a moment then gave a name. The Garn System in the Cadma sector. What took the droids ten minutes to plot out what took Ficcabin five. A course was set. Ficcabin pocketed his crystal and glanced at Frond, an excited tone in his voice now. "Let's go to Garn" and the ship disappeared into hyperspace.
  14. When Frond left the first with the command of eating and finding a ship, Ficcabin stayed still. He still felt out of sorts with everything. A lot had happened in the past few days. And while he had time to process some of it, he still felt he had stepped into something too big for him to handle. The situation was one he had no control over. Still, that was to be expected for now. As a scientist, it was his duty to make sense of chaotic situations, study them, and put them to order. It would just take time. Ficcabin went back to devouring his food. While this was done, something caught his eye. Across the room sat three youngling humans, just a bit younger then him and full of youthful joy, ignorant of what was happening in the galaxy. As they talked, one was fiddling with a small utensil between his fingers but then suddenly dropped it as his companions made a joke. Embarrassed he began to reach down to grab it, but something interesting happened. While his hand and the utensil were still a foot away, the utensil nudged itself slowly towards the open palm, slowly dragging itself closer until the youth grabbed it. The other two made no notion of surprise and continued to talk. Ficcabin wondered. Was this the Force? He recalled how in the Beyond Shadows he could begin to sense the plants around him and how the breeze had came up with the leaves. Perhaps this was something else? He needed to test this more in the future. You Jedi are an interesting lot if I do say so myself... Ficcabin said to the Kel Dor. Frond however returned, to which Ficcabin was embarrassed that he had eaten so much. He had been told he was still growing and thus food was always important, but he never liked the fact that he could gorge himself on so much. Still, the question he asked did give Ficcabin a chance to do one thing he loved doing: selling himself. "Actually, yes, I am a professional pilot as one might say. Flown from Tatooine to now Felucia. We have to go far from Felucia you say? Ficcabin took a moment to translate what was being said. There was something about souls being in peril. Was it thing the Jedi believed about the Force? As a mathematician he didn't truly believe in souls or the afterlife, though Shadow Beyond, including where the ‘souls’ dwelled in the lake, had taught him to think about things twice. While Ficcabin would've liked to stay at the temple a little bit longer just to see if they had some sort of scientific database to look through, he felt he did owe the tree something for introducing him to this new world. A simple flight would do Ficcabin some good too. The open empty vastness of space always called the Givin. "Alright, give me the largest number of a moment and...." Ficcabin quickly took one last gulp of the Fungus Ale before him and grabbed a few small pieces of Mynock Tail that he stuffed in what little room he had on his suit and stood. He nodded to Frond and looked at Kel Koon. I hope your, um, lightsaber construction goes well. I don't know the proper farewell custom for Jedi so let me just say I hope to see you again soon. You seem to be a pleasant fellow. With that, Ficcabin was off. With the help of Frond navigating the temple, Ficcabin found himself at the hangers, where a variety of ships awaited. Ficcabin noted how the hangers weren't full and guessed a great deal of ships were gone helping everything with Corescant. Still, as Ficcabin looked around, a faint feeling of disgust rose up. Stupid fish people seem to have a capitol on your guy's vessels... He groaned as he walked past a few organic shaped ships. Each one he recognized and calculated in his head whether or not to use them. He weighed on how quickly he would adapt to them, how much room there was, whether or not it would have something to provide energy or at least a window for Frond, and most important of all, if it was geometrically shaped or more organic. "After all, the most important things in life rely on both looks and usefulness" However, the one who discovered a prized ship was Frond. Ficcabin glanced over at the tree who was investigating a fine, if not old, vessel. Ficcabin recognized the design immediately. "Action II Transport, originally designed by the Corellian Engineering Corporation, rumored to be inspired by the suitcase of a Givin scientist ironically.... no weapons on this one, but we are only transporting me and Frond so we won't need to defend ourselves hopefully....hmm, the armor is a bit rusted... I don't think pirates will attack us...you, Frond, seem to like the dirt. Do you gain nutrients from dirt like trees? Sorry, distracted, um... there should be a few droids on board who can help us get it flying, though none of those overcomplicated calculators will compare to me... Ficcabin stepped back and looked the ship over again. Yes, this would do. After some negotiating with the hanger guards, which Frond proved most useful, Ficcabin became the temporary pilot of the oddly named ship Huttsinger. Ficcabin was able to point out that wherever the two were going, they should be able to acquire another ship if necessary to go somewhere else before returning to Felucia. The automated crew could return the ship easily. Ficcabin sat at the controls, and breathed in the stuffy air. There was nothing like the smell of a ship. As the ship began to lift, after a false start, Ficcabin's spirit began to rise. He was returning to his natural environment. "So Frond, where exactly are we heading to?" The scientist asked as the ship broke Felucia's orbit. (To Space)
  15. The moment Ficcabin entered the temple he was less in awe and more pleasantly surprised at all the artwork around. He never fully developed an appreciating for the arts, but even he recognized some of the good work around. It appeared that the Jedi temple was accepting of almost all races, which, alongside them helping him off Illum, boded well for him. However, when he realized that there surely was so much information to be found here, he became a bit giddy. Anyone could easily notice his step flowed with some more energy now. It almost made him forget that his question wasn't answered. Almost. When the three sat down, Ficcabin looked at the food eagerly. Producing a few credits, he found that the food they served was almost similar to what he would've eaten at home. Succulent meats of both domestic and wild beasts such as nerf flank and mynock tail, fruits dripping with juice that was mixed with herbs, leaves of the most deliciously prepped with sauces and oils, all with a perfect creamy liquid of unknown origin. If Ficcabin could smell, he would've forgotten all manners completely and dived in without hesitation. However he settled instead with taking large bites between looking at his newfound friends. With each bite, Ficcabin felt a surge of energy grow within him. His insides were busy at work, replenishing what was lost in Shadow Beyond. Oh, if only the scientists at Yag'Dhul could see me now the Givin smirked to himself, a bit of Fungus Ale dripping down onto his flight suit. However, even the enjoyable foods couldn't keep his spirits up at the mention of Coruscant. As he listened to Kel's talk about the moon crashing into the city planet, Ficcabin slowly stopped. His face was emotionless, but the energy that was only recently recovered vanished like morning mists in the sun, revealing the dead sadness underneath. That vision still slightly lingered, like puss in a wound. Ficcabin had been momentarily sedated by the overwhelming peace of the Beyond Shadow, and the fact that he was in a new situation no scientist had ever been in before kept him distracted. One wasn’t instantly used to the fact that visions could perfectly mirror a horrible maddening reality. "Well that is a mighty troublesome situation, like finding the exact percent of what 1/3 is" Ficcabin quickly spoke in a manner imitating a joking mood. "Here I am just meeting you Jedi and already you talk of going away to battle. Are you Jedi always on the move or do you actually sleep too? Ficcabin gave a few half-hearted chuckles and then looked away from the two, pretending to be distracted by the people around him. Truthfully, he was trying his best not to calculate how many people died in the last few hours. And he didn't want the two to realize that he was failing even that.
  16. As Ficcabin was helped up, he could barely hold his surprise. In fact, he couldn't help but verbalize it. "Felucia? Isn't that the jungle planet? Odd place to have a temple, and so far out of the way. Course I guess that explains why I haven't found you Jedi before Illum right?" Truth be told, Ficcabin had never visited it, and only heard of it described by smugglers and traders. Not much besides lots of flora and fauna and some odd natives. A beautiful but deadly environment if he remembered correctly. Perfect for the warrior poets of other species, but for the Givin species it held little value so information about it was rare. "Still, food sounds amazing right now. The value of food at this time is greater than but not equal to the value of x, with x being..." Ficcabin stopped himself and inwardly groaned and berated himself for being so rude. "Under Zero, I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Ficcabin Yule, a scientist if you will. A scientist and... say, you are a Kel Dor aren't you? Pleasure to meet you master Jedi. If the Kel Dor hadn't been helping him, Ficcabin would've given a bow of greetings. Ficcabin was actually pleased to meet a Kel Dor. He had found that the Kel Dor race were very peaceful and always held up a bargain, and traveling to their planet was always an exciting though rare ride. Their planet was a unique oddity to him, with the deadly gases, strange weather patterns and black holes. Given time and a breathing place, a Givin would feel almost at home. "I must admit, that Frond, he is a unique individual. I never have met anything like him before, in a good way mind you. Trees that can talk...is his.. Ficcabin struggled for the right word. ...species something the Jedi encounter... Ficcabin was interrupted by the shouting of the subject of his talk. Seeing Frond walking made Ficcabin feel a bit better. As Frond began to explain more about the Force using the coin, Ficcabin nodded. He listened but not as well as he could. The entire ordeal had taken so much out of him and the place...he was sad not to be feeling that overwhelming peaceful presence he had felt in the beyond shadows. Still, he tried to understand. "So in other words, morality doesn't enter the equation known as the force, but only what is assigned to it. The light isn't necessarily good, and the dark isn't necessarily bad. But the light and the dark are on opposite sides of the equation and thus must equal. Its not my assumption of the force equals the light and the dark together... Ficcabin nodded to himself as he thought this over. "Interesting" After Frond patted his wooden chest, Ficcabin looked at the Kel Dor who was helping him. "Is this what all Jedi think?"
  17. Ficcabin awoke with a scream as he fell out of the bunk. The sheer panic of what he felt in the Beyond Shadows had carried over into his waking mind. For a moment he rapidly breathed on the floor, barely able to collect his thoughts. He attempted to stand but his muscles gave out before him, not ready after such a long period of inactivity. So instead Ficcabin breathed and collected himself. Ok, it’s all right bonehead, just a bad dream. That was just some elaborate dream the tree did to you Ficcabin glanced and saw that the tree being was still in its trance, like Ficcabin was earlier. Soon he would awaken and Ficcabin could question him about what just happened. There was no way any of that happened. Then he realized he was gripping something. Ficcabin opened his palm slowly, revealing the perfect cloudy cube. Its cooling touch on his palm confirmed that it was real in his hands. Its scratches were identical to what he had studied at the lake with the souls. It was perfectly geometrical, as it artificially cut, but showed signs of natural makings. And as Ficcabin calmed down, thinking a few prime numbers to help, he could feel its questioning presence. The Givin's mind raced trying to explain how this was possible as he breathed out a confused and disoriented Impossible. Perhaps the tree had slipped it into his hand, but why didn't he feel it? Maybe another one of these 'Jedi' slipped it to him, but then how had he dreamt it so perfectly well? His thoughts only led back to one conclusion over and over again, no matter what scientific reasoning he applied: It had happen. He had been somewhere else. But that was impossible, wasn't it? Perhaps I have entered a new world after all... and not just the realm Beyond Shadows either. Ficcabin thought for the first time silently to himself, not sure if he wanted it to be true. No matter. Food for thought later. A settled mind could make more sense of this, though he wasn't sure if his mind would ever be settled enough for these discoveries. For now he needed to get up. Ficcabin attempted to stand again, but fell again quickly, resulting in him giving up that task alone. His body felt exhausted, like he had held his breath too long and needed nutrients to replace what he had used up. Frond? Frond wake up! Ficcabin said loudly. He wondered if the tree would wake again. Was he experiencing something that he himself had not? After all, something woke Ficcabin up prematurely it seemed. Hello? Ficcabin called out, wondering if the two were still on Illum or someplace else. Um, your tree....Frond! Um, he is not waking up and um, I'm having trouble getting up! Hello? Hopefully these Jedi had some food for the body; his mind was full enough at the moment. And hopefully the tree would wake up soon.
  18. Ficcabin nodded, though didn't fully understand. Maybe he was mistranslating it, maybe something else, but he figured this would take time. Still, he appreciated Frond attempts to explain to Ficcabin. How can everything in 'this world' be the Force? He was a scientist seeking a scientific explanation to something that he only recently discovered and was getting the mystical definition. Still, when the tree began to use the number of two to help define the force, complete with ideals of dualism, Ficcabin felt he was approaching understanding. Numbers always helped a Givin understand the world. But at the same time, this explanation confused him as well. If knowledge as light and power as dark were two different sides, which he would argue to the end all worlds, why would one not be bad and the other good? So if the force is two, but not dualistic, is it more like one with two sides? The one force, if I may put an idea forth? Ficcabin thought a moment to come up with an idea as a metaphor for what he meant. Like not a coin with two opposing sides where one is supreme at a time but a math equation, where both sides always are the same? But the force is on one side, and this...light and dark on the other? The Force is light and dark? When the two made it to the courtyard and Frond went in further, Ficcabin stalled a moment, the whisperings distracting him for a moment. It was clear that Frond had meant this to be the representation as this Dark of the Force. Power. That’s what the tree had called it. Ficcabin reflected a moment. A fountain of power. The Dark was a fountain of power. What a frightening concept. Still at the corners of his vision he felt like he saw something. But when he turned to look, nothing was there. The feeling of being watched didn't describe what he felt well enough. It was more like something was standing next to him. And the pull wasn't it. Ficcabin nervously tapped the back of his neck, running some simple calculations to calm down. He needed to get out of here soon. But how? The sound of the seed bursting from the fountain made Ficcabin jump and yelp slightly, not expecting the noise. He laughed nervously as Frond gave a smile that Ficcabin was not truly accustomed to. Well I'm glad I'm not the only one learning. Still, the feeling did not go away. The pull made Ficcabin nervous. The presence made him scared. Ficcabin only eyed briefly the seed that Frond retrieved while the scientist grabbed his own crystal for comfort. He could feel something. If earlier when he first entered this world was an opening of a new sense, this was its way of danger. Of pain. Of sheer power and strength. Of panic. Ficcabin franticly glanced side to side, his hands into fists around his crystal. There was definitely something there. Beyond the mists, past the Font of Power, something approached. It was a cold presence of something old. Ficcabin felt his heart race. The reason why he had ran from this place in the first place. The Font was a pulling sensation. This sensation was slightly different, but the difference large enough to cover the planet. This was much too cold. Colder then the vacuum of space. Before him, his awakened sense, drunk on all the peace it had felt, was much too sensitive to this power. Um, Frond, I, uh, think that... Ficcabin didn't finish. The air around him was too thick for sound and too heavy for movement. Ficcabin remembered all the warnings Frond had given about touching the water. While he had never done so, what if something else had before? What if there were residents of this world, and Ficcabin had offended them? A scream barely broke out from the Givin. Then he vanished from sight, a dreamer waking to reality. (Posts continued in Felucia)
  19. Ficcabin listened intently, like a child before an elder telling the secrets of the universe. Truth be told, that was what Ficcabin felt like. However this whole experience did make him feel like a child. At the command, Ficcabin stood, nodded, and then paused. Which way was the correct way? Ficcabin looked at the underbrush and was slightly horrified to see that the place, with all of the leaves and the grass, had settled itself back into their original places, as if nothing had disturbed them. The pause lasted only for a few moments, but to a recently panicked individual, that could feel much longer than a second or two. At the gesture towards the crystal, Ficcabin breathed thanks and picked it up, its slight coolness a comfort in his hand. It helped him calm his thoughts down again, reminding him to simply repeat a few numbers quietly. " 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8... " The scientist muttered. Already he could feel the presence seep in, especially with what was in his crystal. But this time, he could also feel that pull again. It was distant, and not like that violent sensation that forced him to run earlier. His first instinct was to flee from in. To run towards anything else, or to clutch to Frond's woody exterior. Instead, he started to take steps towards the pull, albeit hesitantly. Ficcabin had a thought. "You said the Force is made up of this world, correct? Then why are there such vast different feelings. Earlier I felt a pulling sensation, then it was a terrifying presence, but then when I focused here it was that almost intoxicating feeling of peace. And you said there is Dark and Light...why do those exist exactly? As the two walked, Ficcabin nervously leading the way, the environment got cooler and cooler to the soul. Ficcabin didn't say it, but the pull was stronger. But instead of curiosity, it was a fear that was growing. If not for Frond, and his own little drive inside to discover more about the Force, he would've turned back. But instead he went forward, the courtyard just appearing in sight through the mist.
  20. The Force is strong. The force is alive. The force is good. It knows peace, pain and sorrow. It knows anger and it knows sadness. It thinks and wonders. It rages. It weeps. It asks. The force is life. The force is Death. The force is all. The force is one. Ficcabin followed suit with the tree, sitting cross-legged before him. Perhaps he was about to learn something. The tree's words were of a teaching kind. This appeared to be a kind of lesson. Even as he listened, he shivered as he silently translated what was said. The Force gave power and knowledge was interesting, but was that based on the pool of knowledge and the so-called font? "Darkness? You mean, what I had felt earlier? That pull?" Surprisingly, Frond's words made Ficcabin more curious then fearful, though he didn't dare ask what was the purpose of resisting this so called 'darkness'. He had after all ran away from it already in fear after what he guessed refused its pull. As Frond gave the instructions, Ficcabin hesitated to follow for only a moment, wondering if this was just a trick. Still, he had nothing else to do and he didn't dare upset the tree further. He felt like he had done more damage then good right now, disturbing the tree's meditations or whatever. So Ficcabin closed his eyes. "Allow the force to wash..." Ficcabin muttered his translation almost near silently. He tried to clear the distractions. But as he did so, his mind kept having theories about what was happening. This was similar to what the tree had done that brought the two here originally. A clearing of the mind. Perhaps this was a trick... Still Ficcabin attempted to obey. Eyes shut, skull head high, hands resting on his knees, the small Givin tried to focus. Each thing the tree described Ficcabin tried to focus on, as if he could see it. He tried to conjure up an image in his head of what the trees looked like. How the leaves felt between his fingers when he pulled the seeds off. He tried to remember the chemical formulas that most plants carried, and how they related to his grand theory... Ficcabin shook his head, noticing his mind just wandered. Focus! he silently shouted at himself. He repeated the process, but eventually came to the same conclusion. If Ficcabin had been a human, his forehead would've creased in annoyance. He attempted a third time, hoping for better luck. But as he repeated the steps again, this time trying to focus on Frond and how both tree-like and man-like he was and how he probably was some weird cosmic oddity, he noticed the presence of his crystal again. That yearning feeling this time guided Ficcabin, in the same way a shooting star guides shamans to great conclusions: in a roundabout way. Ficcabin thought how when he focused on the details of the crystal, it's presence left him. But when he tested out focusing on nothing but questions, on his own base instinctual desire to question himself, he had found it again. Perhaps... "Let the Force wash over me" Ficcabin muttered, a hint of understanding in his voice. He didn't need to force it to come to him. He needed to let it flow to him. Let him be like the vacuum on Yag'Dhul where the waters or the air would rush. He needed to clear his mind, not fill it up. He needed to calm his mind, not force it to work. He needed to slow himself down... two...three...five... Slowly, the Givin chanted the numbers that came to him like instinct. Years of studying numbers over and over had made numbers his best tool. As he chanted, the thoughts of everything began to drift away. It was instead replaced with a feeling. A pure feeling that Ficcabin had only felt in the most dangerous of moments. When his ship crashed on Illum. When he met the Jedi. When he first arrived here. A kind of feeling when a dream slipped into reality. Or perhaps this was reality slipping into a dream. seventeen...nineteen...twenty-one... the serene peace flowed into the Givin. In his mind's eye he couldn't see but he could feel the presence of the crystal before him. But there was more now. There was the grass the crystal sat on. The ground the grass grew from. The roots that escaped the ground into the trees. The leaves that hung off the leaves, bearing small seeds of life. An excitement began to grow inside Ficcabin. One hundred and one...One hundred and three...one hundred and sev- Ficcabin stopped. For the briefest of moments he felt like the leaves around the two had moved. There was a moment of perfect serenity. He opened his eyes and looked around curious. There had been no wind in this place since he got here. He looked back at the tree, eyes holding a curiosity that a Givin experienced when they were but children. "What....that.. Ficcabin was speechless. "Was that...is that the Force?
  21. Ficcabin was breathing rapidly as the tree held him. The panic was still fresh and powerful in his mind, and on top of it, it brought back the images from the pool he saw earlier. At this point, this place was pure madness to him. Visions of planets getting destroyed, talks about the dead in lakes, fountains and whisperings of power, all these things were driving Ficcabin mad. Had it not been for his ritual to turn back and count the numbers again and again, growing more softly each time, as well as the words and presence of Frond, he would have snapped completely. However, he did snap a little bit. Frond's words that Ficcabin could only understand when he took time to translate only confused him further and in his panic, he nearly shouted at the tree. "What in the name of the prime numbers do you mean? First know that the knowing is not? Mind to the open? What servant? Zero under you stupid tree, you probably can't even count to three! Even as the words left Ficcabin, remorse instantly followed. He was being stupid. He was acting like a coward. Had he not done crazier stunts in his own ship? Had not his home planet been nearly more deadly then this place? This remorse stopped Ficcabin for a moment, allowing that serene peacefulness of the environment to envelop him. It was refreshing after that run of pure panic. Ficcabin almost wondered what it would be like just to let it take him. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me. Its just that... " Ficcabin gave out a sigh. "I'm sorry." Ficcabin listened to the tree's words and this time did try to understand them. "It wasn't a vision exactly. It was more... a pull" Ficcabin swore inside his head. How he hated such a simple definition for such a complex feeling. Like gravity itself was pulling my spirit or something, but it wasn't a pull, more like a call, one that i could resist but grew harder to the more i listened. It was..." Ficcabin paused and moved his hands in the air, trying to find the right word but ended up again with "a pull. From some kind of fountain if that makes any sense. I dropped something in it. I...can't remember what though to be honest." What had he dropped in it? It wasn't his own crystal, he could still feel it in his right hand. Ficcabin nodded at the rest of Frond's words, realizing he hadn't done much studying of the Force. Perhaps he should've done from the start was just to listen to the tree. His independent walking had been dangerous to his sanity. He thought for a moment trying to figure out what he had seen that could serve as a crystal. The only things he had seen was the pool, the lake, that fountain and... Ficcabin pulled out a few seeds from his pocket. The small, coarse objects were an unknown material to him. He thought they were organic but without testing, it could be anything in this place. "I dropped one" Ficcabin suddenly remembered. "In the fountain, I dropped a seed into it. That's when I ran, cause it felt like there was something there. Like I had disturbed a great angry thing. A presence or something. Like you know how everywhere here it feels calm? It was like the fountain had an air of a wild animal the one moment I dropped the seed. Maybe there's a crystal or something there? Its hard to explain but its like...it's like the feeling I got from there, from the fountain and the feeling I get from my crystal here are related."
  22. Ficcabin was not aware how much time had passed. What had felt like hours to him may have been either just minutes or decades for everyone else. He did not become more aware that the passage of time was eluding him until something inside pulled at him. While the feeling that Ficcabin had was more complicated then that, he could only simplify it to a 'pulling'. To take the time to put to words what Ficcabin felt would've been a task too time consuming and complicated for him. Pulling would do for now. As the Givin stood up, he legs wobbled a bit underneath him from being at rest for so long. He gripped the crystal in one hand, finding a deeper value in it now. While he had made no headway in studying it, it had obviously studied him, as he put it. He glanced at it quickly, noting how the cloudy underside was swirling more rapidly now. While he reasoned it could be from the heat it had absorbed from Ficcabin's bony hands, Ficcabin theorized it was something more complicated then that, not that the study of energy interacting with an unknown, possibly living, mineral wasn't complicated. The more Ficcabin thought about the crystal, the more eager he was in studying it. It felt almost alive to him, but this seemed impossible. He had not heard of a non-carbon based life form before. Still, he hadn't heard of traveling to other places instantaneously by sitting with a tree person either... As Ficcabin walked towards the pulling feeling, pushing his way through branches and tall grass, Ficcabin noticed something that he was shocked he hadn't noticed before: he was not hungry. If time had passed as much as he felt like it had, he should've been eating right now to make sure his body would be ready for any kind of emergency. Givins tended to eat before every space trip because their bodies could produce and store what they needed to survive. This, as well as their sealed body structure, enabled them to survive periods of time in the vacuum without breathing. This realization made him wonder. "Perhaps I am having an 'out of body' experience. Maybe all of this is a vivid, complex hallucination. After all, that tree person could be like the Zeltron or something, being able to affect the mind, or maybe I got drugged when I first landed on Illum." . The crystal in his hand gave off the feeling Ficcabin called curiosity. He needed to prove this for himself whether or not this was real. The Givin stopped in his tracks, ignoring the pulling feeling once more. Feeling the plant life around him, not recognizing any of them, he found that at the tips of the leaves were small tan pods, no bigger then a pebble. These seeds, rigid and coarse to the touch, came off easily when Ficcabin purposely touched them. He began to gather some of the seeds and fill his spare pocket with them. If this truly was an out of body experience, when he would 'wake up' these seeds would not be in his pocket. But if they were, then Ficcabin would have something more to study, counting both the Force and these seeds. Done with his little detour, Ficcabin continued through the undergrowth, eventually standing before the entrance to a courtyard of high walls, overgrown to the point that anything artificially made was covered with moss, weeds and leaves, rendering Ficcabin unable to tell if the walls were made of stone or something else. The air was no longer silent as Ficcabin got closer. A quiet cacophony of incomprehensible whispers seemed to come from inside. Ficcabin stepped in carefully, noticing how cold the air had become. Glancing around, he saw nobody and wondered. "Hello? Is there anyone here?" Ficcabin called out. The whisperings did not stop, nor get louder. Ficcabin took another step in, the pulling feeling stronger now. At the center of the overgrown courtyard Ficcabin could see a stone fountain, untouched by the plant life, which seemed to stop at about a foot away from the fountain's base. Ficcabin approached it, now seeing that it was filled. A liquid, thick, red and smooth as glass, sat inside, unmoving. Curious, Ficcabin took a seed from his pocket and dropped it inside. The small thing fell like a stone, landing on the liquid for a moment, then sank, leaving not a ripple. Suddenly the whispers were louder now, and the pulling sensation Ficcabin had felt had become irresistible, calling the scientist to drink and study the power that was held inside. It would be so easy to. Ficcabin's hands touched the outside edges of the fountain, unable to resist the pull. Gravity was taking a hold of his soul here. To ignore this pull was to ignore the nature of the universe. To answer it was to control the universe itself... Ficcabin stopped, his hands hovering just above the liquid, a centimeter from being dipped inside. The warning Frond had given flashed in his memory. Ficcabin didn't know what happened next. The moment was a blur. All Ficcabin could remember that there was a high-pitched scream, trampling of leaves, and running. Ficcabin, tearing through the undergrowth once more like death was at his heels.
  23. Ficcabin listened to what the tree said about the Force and what the Givin saw in the pool. To be fair, he didn't understand it fully, partially because he had some trouble translating the grammar and partially because this was a subject that he did not approach easily. Death in Givin culture was never fully addressed or at least not that he knew about. It was as if a person's numerical value suddenly went to zero in an instant, with no way of gaining more. Dying was approaching zero, but there was always the hope that one could increase it. Hitting zero was tragic and difficult to handle. Still, listening to Frond, letting the tree being lead him on, helped some. He didn't say anything, just nodded, fearful he would break down in fear again. He looked at the waters, the humanoid wisps slowly taking shape then quickly vanishing before being made out. Ficcabin shivered slightly at the thought of those people. He swore he mistranslated what Frond said. 'Those souls bound and tormented for eternity'? Where was the comfort in that? Still, it also brought a slight comfort in the fact that for these people, life didn't end at death, tormenting as it could be. At the handing of the crystal, Ficcabin looked at Frond confused. How was he supposed to call to it? I'm not sure what you mean Frond, I mean, call it? My mind open? How do I... Ficcabin shut up, realizing he was neither helpful nor polite with all in his questionings. He was a guest in these strange lands, observing Frond do some meditations and constructing of some kind of weapon. But instead so far he has been nothing but a distraction. Yes sir, I will try to, um, open my mind Ficcabin said and the tree had walked away, repeating its warning. Ficcabin didn't need to be reminded. The experience from the pool was still fresh. No, he would instead focus on this crystal Frond had handed to him. But what exactly are you? Ficcabin asked aloud, holding the crystal up to the light, examining it carefully. It was strange. He first thought it must have been artificially made, for nothing naturally could create such a perfect cube. However after further examination, he noticed that there were some slight scratching on 4 of the 6 sides; places where it was held or ripped out? The other sides felt perfectly smooth. Ficcabin theorized that perhaps a constant stream of water had run on these sides while the crystal had grown from the others, but the edges near the smooth sides were too sharp and crisp for erosion. This thing was something of a mystery. It was only further complicated when Ficcabin realized that the crystal had a slight cooling effect, almost unnoticeable unless it was looked for. Even as Ficcabin held it between his fingers, he felt that while it continued to cool the air and his fingertips constantly, it refused to become warm. The mists inside the crystal moved slowly about, pushed by some unseen energy that was not heat. Then Ficcabin gave voice to a very odd theory. Is this some kind of life form? Frond said that it called to me, at least I think that's what he said. But if that's true, why didn't I notice it before? But he had noticed it. When he met Frond, he had noted that he felt a yearning feeling of restlessness. Even now, as Ficcabin realized this, he felt that same feeling coming from the crystal. Restlessness. A yearning restlessness. Ficcabin lowered his hand and wiped his forehead at the headache hidden inside. This all was a bit much for the young scientist. He looked out over the lake and collected himself again, avoiding looking directly at the lake itself and instead past it through the mists. He had truly entered a world he was not prepared for. This...Force, if it was such a thing, was complicated. If this crystal was alive, as Frond seemed to have suggested and as Ficcabin's own feelings seemed to indicate, and if he was supposed to use this crystal to focus to.... help it's soul speak out? How was he to do that? By using the crystal as a focusing point he muttered to himself, as if it made sense. Still, Frond seemed to think that it was possible Ficcabin could do something, despite having zero training in whatever was going on in this world. He did say that this world was freer or something with how the Force flowed. Ficcabin sighed and sat down at the water's edge. He felt the souls eyes on him. He tried to ignore it as he took a hold of the crystal in one hand and closed his eyes. He tried to shut out the entire world around him and focus on what he felt in his hands. The cooling touch of it, the smooth and rough edges, the perfect geometric shape....he turned it over and over in his hand, trying to focus more and more on nothing but the crystal. He felt nothing from it. The yearning he had once felt from it quickly died out, as if his very focus smothered it to silence. Ficcabin looked at it, scared that he may have broke it. It still looked all right. It still felt cooling. Ficcabin tried to focus again. He decided to be more specific. He focused on each individual scratch. He concentrated on the way the edges were too sharp for erosion. How each of the faces of the cube was identical in size to the other faces. Every minute detail was in his mind's eye. The crystal stayed dead. Maybe he was approaching it in the wrong way. Ficcabin turned his thoughts on that feeling he felt from the crystal earlier. He had to try to make it up for himself since the crystal was no longer giving it off, but maybe he could bring it back. He focused himself once more. He tried to use Ficcabin sighed in disappointment. Whatever Frond had wanted him to do, Ficcabin clearly failed. He placed the small object on the ground next to him, ashamed that he couldn't do this right. He gazed over the waters again and noticed the souls again, this time the mists becoming thicker near the edge that he was at. Frond said that these are the spirits that were gone. Were any of these from Corescant? Ficcabin tried to push the thought away, but the door was opened once more. The memory of what he saw flooded him again, and he felt the powerful fear of the vision. The madness of the people. The slaughtering. The moon crashing into the helpless planet, dooming all the life on both. So much death. So many numbers, rounded down to zero at once. Come off it you dumb bonehead Ficcabin insulted himself, trying to work himself out of this feeling. Why in the world does the death of a few lives bother you? Probably cause all those numbers still meant something, no matter who they were He silently thought to him. Because you fear that could happen to your own people that you left behind to see the stars. Because that could happen to you, in the matter of time it takes for a star to burn a molecule of hydrogen So? You've known death could come since you left home. What is it about Corescant that scared you? Because it’s the center of the universe. Because I've made friends there. Because it's a place like no other. An entire planet dedicated to civilization. Such a wonder cannot, no, shouldn't be lost so easily These thoughts ran on for a while. A voiced question followed by a silent answer, followed by another question. But as Ficcabin carried on, that feeling, that yearning, slowly came back. The crystal felt Ficcabin's questionings and answering. Unbeknownst to him, the crystal was aiding him. Whether it was aiding him by encouraging an answering his own questionings or tricking him to actually ask the questions so he would answer them, was unknown. But its effect was obvious. Ficcabin was becoming more and more verbal, where both questions and answers were voiced to the mists. But if the theory is wrong, then life has no meaning. And all my work is for nothing. All the work for all Givin philosophers is for nothing. But why is that bad? I don't know, maybe it isn't. Maybe that would help us move on towards better things. But that would be a lie revealed too. What lie? Well, the lie that we... Ficcabin stopped, finally noticing the feeling, that yearning. It was impossible to miss now. It was as strong as the gravity from a star. Ficcabin wondered for a few seconds as he picked the crystal up again and studied it. When the presence began to fade under his scrutinizing eye and thoughts, he tested a theory. He stopped thinking on the crystal and turned his own thoughts inwards. Did he miss Yag-Dhul? Did he miss Coruscant? Yes and no. Both planets were something to admire but his home was the stars. The presence grew stronger and Ficcabin felt another question rise within him. But more importantly, a fact arose within him. You are curious. Like me, you want to learn? Ficcabin wasn't sure how much time had passed, or how much more time would pass, but he continued to ask and answer questions. At first they were only things about beliefs, goals, dreams....then they became about more factual tangible things, like how fast a star would burn with one material over another, or at what speed one could land a ship on a planet without harm. Eventually it was names, dates, and events. Ficcabin asked and answered questions about everything, wherever his mind wandered, but always aware of the crystal's presence as well. He made mental notes where the crystal seemed to grow and shine the most at. He noticed that it seemed to appreciate (if Ficabbin could use the word in this situation) with the deeper questions about Ficcabin's personality and less so about solid facts, but it also seemed to react well to Ficcabin's imaginative wonderings. And so he focused on those questions more so. Time passed for Ficcabin. He didn't know what had happened to Frond or what was happening around him. He was too absorbed in his questioning and answering. He didn't mind.
  24. It took a while for the tree to calm Ficcabin down, even with the calming presence throughout the area. It took a great deal of effort for the scientist to collect his thoughts enough to be able to simply put to words what he saw. At moments he would mutter some words like How could that happen? and Too much death but beyond that it was incoherent babble of mathematical terms and pleadings. But the tree's presence, as well as this calming feeling of the environment did their work. Outside of the cave Ficcabin began to walk, slowly gathering everything together. Slowly, the raw fear of the vision, like a cursed mist in the rays of morning sun, started to ease away, but the memory was still strong and his emotional state was still vulnerable. He found that the prime numbers still held something of a healing ward for him and so he repeated these a few times, and eventually he was able to speak. Oh, I have seen things, but nothing like that. I saw death. So much death. The capitol was in flames and the people... the people were panicking and being slaughtered as they could do nothing but watch as...as in the sky the... Ficcabin couldn't bring himself to say about the event of the moon. Tell me that was just some illusion. Tell me there is a way to prevent that or that I just saw some illusion. Please, tell me that it is this just a trick? Some grand trick for crashing into your temple! Ficcabin never had yearned before for a lie. As a scientist, he was a seeker of the truth of reality. But some truths were evidently too much to handle. Ficcabin stopped in his walking and breathed in deeply, collecting his thoughts, muttering to himself the prime numbers again. He looked out into the mists, appreciating the warmth they gave, the confirmation he wasn't on Illum at the moment. I'm sorry tree, I think I may have interrupted your meditation. But I must ask...is that the future?
  25. As the skeletal being came to be, the words that were recited echoed through his spirit. He had strangely found comfort in the tree's counting up of the seven sacred numbers, and had found himself forming the numbers in his own head as he slowly attempted to follow the tree's step, and eventually let his mind free of all the distractions around him. While this seemed difficult at first, since a life in space made one busy, the counting was what helped Ficcabin come to a complete sense of serenity. Ficcabin, a being who never really needed to breath when he didn't want to, took a sharp breath in when he opened his eyes and saw the world around him. He placed his hands on the ground, feeling the plant life and the dirt between his fingers, the sensation of moisture in cool silt. This is... I.... Words failed the scientist. How had this happened. Where one moment he was in the safe confines of a mighty space vessel on an icy planet, now he was in a forest. Ficcabin felt completely at peace but this kind of peace felt unusual to him. Like sitting at the controls of a new ship, this peace, this world, it felt unusual and strange. He had never touched this kind of serenity before, except that feeling when the ship crashed... The scientist tried to come up with a way of how this was possible, but Ficcabin could only shake his head. This was impossible. A trick of the senses. He had heard that some alien species were rumored to be telepathic and able to control people's senses. The Zeltron controlled emotions with pheromones, and many individuals who were sick could see things not really there. It wasn't too far of a stretch to consider. Maybe this tree being was one of those who could influence the senses. Or maybe he had been drugged by one of the Jedi, or maybe he was just suffering from space sickness. That could explain this new feeling of peace. But with every idea Ficcabin came up with to explain the entire situation away, he found them all lacking. Something else was at work. This...Force. Life and Death, whatever it was. Something had awakened something in the Givin. Never had he felt the impossible feelings of peace and serenity like this. Ficcabin felt as if he had opened a new sense suddenly and his entire vocabulary failed to even give the slightest detail on what it was like. It was like explaining what sound was to the deaf man, or color to the person born blind or the real world to a dreamer. Any attempt was inadequate. Ficcabin could only stare at the world around him until the sound of footsteps of his companion, accentuated by the pure silence everywhere, signaled he was leaving towards a known place. Not wanting to be left alone, Ficcabin raced after. He listened to the tree's warning, and nodded. He was out of his environment and now in his friend's, if Ficcabin could call him that yet. He felt as he could hear a calling coming from the tree, but strangely muffled, or restrained. Ficcabin shook his head again, feeling a headache coming from trying to understand everything. The sight of the cave made Ficcabin nervous again, but he didn't hesitate to follow. Again he marveled at the world about him; the sensation of cooler air, brighter light....and the water. Instantly, Ficcabin was drawn to the pool. As soon as he saw it he took steps towards it, ready to bend down and to quench a thirst that was not with him before. He stopped when he was at the edge however, ashamed at already nearly forgetting the warning he was just given. Tree....what is this? At the explanation he nodded and stared at the pool more curious then ever. I doubt I could leave this place if I wanted to. Ficcabin stated, both to himself and to his friend. But since I don't know your mediation techniques, nor do I wish to explore such a place alone, I think I will stay here and look closer... And look closer Ficcabin did. He bent down to study the pool, to try to understand what kind of liquid it was to grant such an inky quality. But even as he did, the blackness seemed to swirl before him without motion. He looked closer as an image of ruins began to take form. Ficcabin noticed how the pieces were still smoking from the recent destruction. Fires were erupting everywhere. People, aliens of all kinds, were screaming and running, some away from some calamity, others towards each other with weapons in hand. People were giving into base instincts of survival and were killing each other. A maddness and chaos had taken control of these people. Ficcabin could feel a sense of fear growing in him. What was driving these people to do this? The image changed shape quickly, forming new ones that were only there for a brief moments. He could see a cloud of dust enveloping most of the world....lightning striking tall wrecked buildings....ships and droids ridden by armored warriors, who slaughtered innocents... a planet, glowing with city life, being wrecked by a moon... Ficcabin fell back in fright. His breathing was rapid now, uncontrolled. In a blind panic he began to turn and flee the cavern, forgetting the feeling he had of not wanting to be alone, forgetting that the tree being was still there. He knew that planet. He had been there many times before. That planet that was home to billions, a shining jewel to all of the galaxy... Ficcabin broke into a sprint and dashed out, only to trip and fall at the entrance. He stayed there, unable to move, too afraid to do anything. It can't be true.... It can't...
×
×
  • Create New...