This War of Mine

[Vorn]

Music

Compared to the rest of Nar Shaddaa this place seemed almost relaxing. While nothing on the planet could quite escape the immense overpopulation or the overarching influence of the Hutts, this perticular bar was remarkably clean. It was owned by a couple of aliens, a family Vorn thought, whose species wasn't really known for venturing off-world. He didn't have the slightest clue why they decided to go to Nar Shaddaa of all places, but he guessed everyone washes up here for one reason or another, at one time or another.

He liked the way they ran the place though. No fuss, no filth, just good booze and peace. Vorn already had quite the stack of bottles at the bar next to him. He couldn't remember the last time he was this drunk. It was only barely helping him feel better, so he wouldn't have to think about... Anything.

"Something on your mind, friend?" the bartender asked. His, if it were a he, voice vibrated strongly underneath the words. All of the aliens talked like that, Vorn figured it was an accent.

"Nothing I wanna talk about," he said, lightly shaking his latest empty bottle. The alien barkeep, however, closed its eyes and shook its head.

"Sorry friend, but you've had enough. You can stay if you want, but no more drink."

Vorn grunted something unintelligible at him. He didn't have the energy nor motivation to start a fuss. Part of him just wanted to lay down his head on the counter and never get up. He couldn't even begin to think about what he was going to do. His headache felt like it was splitting his skull in half, and he knew the hangover hadn't even kicked in yet.

Deciding it was time to go, he dropped credits on the table. He hadn't taken any when he left, but he had pawned Imerus's shuttle. He was too far gone to sparer it a second thought.

He stumbled away, clearly drunk, to the place he was staying at. It was a cheap, crummy hotel where the rooms had static images for windows and where the neighbours of said establishment included a fast food joint that would most certainly give you parasites and a brothel full of alien girls that might-or-might-not be there of their own free will. Vorn hadn't spared any of them a second look. Crippling depression had a habit of killing one's desires.

Inside of the small room he had been staying in, Vorn simply fell on the bed. The alcohol in his blood and the weariness of his heart ensured he soon fell asleep. His rest, however, was anything but peacefull...


He found himself in a trench. Blastershots flew over his head in two directions, the sound interrupted only occassionally by the krump of an artillery piece smiting the earth somewhere nearby. There was no one in the trench with him. He held a rifle, trying hard not to panic.

This was the hell he had sought to avoid. It had comd back for him.

[Vorn]

Vorn cowered at his post, leaning into the wall. He held on to his rifle like it was a lifeline, but couldn't bear to look up over the edge of the trench and return fire as he was supposed to. His eyes blurred from his hyperventilating, adrenaline and the intensity of the situation making it nigh impossible to keep his panic response under control.

An artillery shell landed nearby. Fresh soil rained down around him, smelling faintly of muck, steam and ionized silicon. Vorn covered his face to avoid being blinded, but as he opened them up again, he saw a badge on a uniform beneath the dirt of the trench. One similar to the one he wore, worn and old as it may be. A small stream of water was pouring into the trench from above, slowly cutting through the dirt to reveal a rotting face-

Vorn turned away, falling to his knees into the trench. He heaved as he fought the urge to vomit. Such was the reality of trench warfare. No time to bury the dead. They just fell in the trenches they had dug, often buried alive as a shell struck too close or a warmachine trampled the structure underneath.

"You!"

A voice, a familiar voice, called out to him, clear and commanding even over the sound of detonations and plasma impacts. Vorn turned to look.

"Why are you not returning fire? Get up, coward," said a man in the resplendant, clean uniform of his homeworld. A blaster was in his hands, his black hair being blown left and right as new pressure waves passed overhead. He seemed fearless, dutiful, proud.

It was him. Vorn as he would have been, had he controlled his fear and done his duty. Someone who was not afraid to die for his nation, to do his duty, or to fight for his comrades.

The other version of Vorn grabbed him by the scruff of his coat. "The commander will want to see you. He has no patience for cowards."

Vorn struggled, but the grip on him was as iron. He ws dragged through several other trenches, some abandoned, some with soldiers still manning them. None of them betrayed the fear he felt. One man still stood at attention with his rifle, even though one of his arms was naught but a stump wrapped in dirty bandages. Another was clearly shot through the helmet, a blaster shot had penetrated straight through, but the man continued to guard his post.

The nightmare carnaval Vorn was being dragged through was made complete when the Vorn dragging him halted. "Got a coward, sir. Refused to fire back at the enemy."


A man in a general's uniform, with golden medals and insignias on his jacket, stood over him. His skin had been horribly burned, and his sockets were empty hollows. Vorn had a strong urge to scream, but couldn't make a noise. The terror was constricting his lungs.

"Cowards go to the front. Take him," the general said after a brief inspection.

The other Vorn nodded. The real Vorn was dragged once more, but this time, it was up a ramp. The moment he noticed they were going up he yelled out loud: "What are you doing? That's suicide! Don't take me up there, you'll get us both killed!"

"This is what duty means!" the other Vorn yelled at him, scorn in his tone.

Vorn struggled harder. He attempted to grab the wooden boards underfoot, but they let go as though his touch rotted them to soft pulp. He clawed at the dirty, rending his fingers bloody, but nothing would halt the other Vorn's advance.

As soon as he crested the trench, other Vorn staggered as a blaster shot pierced his chest. He kept going forward, dragging Vorn behind. Two more steps and another shot connected. This time it sheared off his left arm below the elbow. Other Vorn roared and picked up the pace even harder, before a hail of shots all connected at once, much to Vorn's horror. A shot blew out his right eye and a good part of his head. Another tore through his leg, another pierced his stomach. He fell at last.

Vorn scrambled to his feet. Several hostile soldiers had their blasters trained at him. In the span of a moment, Vorn looked behind him to see that the soldiers there, the men of his home planet, had also aimed at him.

He had nowhere to go. If he were to go forward, he would be shot by the enemy. If he went back, his own people would shoot him.

There was no way out.

[Isabel Lydeck]

The moment began to drag itself out, crawled. Slower and slower. It showed in the way their blasters bobbed, aiming like the hour hand of a clock. One hostile blinked his green eyes, held them closed as if briefly asleep. They reopened at the rate of a sunrise. Another began to shout, a vibration warped and deepened and incomplete. A hung note that blended with the approaching thunder.

Something was coming.

Down through the no-man's land between the two firing lines stalked a cat, one from the dust planes of Vorn's exile, clad in Isabel's finery and possessing her ratlike tail. Unlike the incarnation in the prior dream, no chains wrapped around it, nor fire blazed from the beast's eyesockets. Indeed, it was just as eyeless as the general, and had a bit in its mouth, the reins of which stretched into the sky and disappeared into a stormcloud. It spoke in Isabel's voice, the obstruction in its mouth not hindering its speech any.

"Once there was a very rich lady who found a man in a very cold, very dark place. This place was so dark, and so cold it reminded her of where she had been born, so she did everything she can to pull the man out of it. Being a deserter was fine, but she didn't want to see him slowly turn into an accursed monster."

The stormcloud loosened the reins, and the monster stopped and lowered its head, gently lapping the blood from the more loyal Vorn's corpse on the ground, its grey tongue playing at the wound in his head. Red was the only color left anywhere.

"That's why I kept trying to drive you away."

[Vorn]

The shouts from either firing line had slowed so far as to be unrecognizable background noise. The world, as it seemed, began to revolve around this moment in time. Vorn was torn between two sensations: The comfort in knowing Isabel was here, and the fear he could not shake loose regarding her form.

But there was something else there, stronger now than either his appreciation for Isabel or his fear of cat-things. Pain.

He tasted blood.

"Y-you... D-Don't need me anymore," Vorn said to cat-thing Isabel, trying to resist the urge to cough as he felt more crimson droplets swelling at the back of his throat. "Y-You have found s-someone else."

[Isabel Lydeck]

The cat-thing paused its lapping and looked up at the living Vorn in sudden interest, its reins jingling with the movement. It sat up on its haunches. Its nose twitching as it caught the scent of fresher blood. Suddenly it wasn't a cat anymore. It was Isabel, kneeling, nude next to the corpse, a leash around her neck that lead up to the clouds. There was no shame at her state of undress. Her red eyes fixed on the frightened soldier for a moment, before she rose and approached.

"I just want you to know," she leaned her small body against his, resting her chin on his chest. Her tail wrapped around his leg. "Whatever happens you are irreplacable to me." Her hand reached up and weaved into his hair, implacably pulling him in for a kiss. In truth, she was trying to get at the blood in the back of his throat.

[Vorn]

Vorn's hands trembled, his held almost protectively to his chest as Isabel drew near. Like a shield, not a weapon. He didn't want to admit he still wanted to be with her. It was too late for that now. But the temptation was still there, drawing him in and sapping his will to fight.

He remembers well what it felt like, to be in a galaxy with thousands of worlds, each home to billions, and still feel utterly alone. Isabel had saved him from that, in a way. That is why he loved her so. His desires disarmed him. He could not help but lean in and allow the kiss. He wanted it too much to struggle. The hellish world around him was momentarily forgotten, all for the promise of a moment of bliss.

[Amon Fallenstar]

The cloud above Isabels leash flashed with light and a moment later there was a strike of lightning nearby and thunder rumbled as if from not far off as the pairs lips met. As if in disapproval of her actions and methods of trying to get more of the blood she so craved. As it happened the cloud itself seemed to shift and expand downwards like a tornado touching down; lighting arced around the column of violent wind as it found its way to the floor. As contact was achieved it morphed once more, taking on a almost humanoid shape, featureless other than a part of blazing blue eyes and a light just as bright and blue that seemed to emerge from the very middle of the raging weather pattern.

The leash that Isabel wore was recoiled into the dark clouds as more violent energy struck the area around the pair and a deep rumble could be heard again like thunder from a long way away. The temperature had dropped like one would expect in the minutes before the rain came, the air itself biting with the chill of impending deluge all as if displeased in response to the way the events were transpiring around them.

[Isabel Lydeck]

Though Isabel was tightly entertwined with Vorn, seeking the rest of his blood, everything changed when Amon came in. All in an instant she was the cat-thing again, roaring, trying to sieze him before the leash pulled her back, just out of reach. She strained against her bonds, but she couldn't gain any footing on the cracked and continuously cracking ground. The more she struggled, the more she went backwards. Her long lines of clawmarks were covered in instants by the swirling dirt.

[Vorn]

Vorn fell backwards in shock. She had tried to attack him, that much was clear. He lay there, in the mud, watching Isabel get dragged off.

She's... She's already gone, he thought. She's already gone.

Sand began to be blown around him. Not the wet mud of the trenches, but dry grains easily carried by the wind. Soon, visibility decreased, the soldiers in their trenches disappearing behind the thick haze. Isabel remained visible, as did the thundercloud, almost as though their presence formed a break in the storm.

Vorn got to his feet and turned around. Isabel would kill him. He couldn't go to her. He-

He turned, and saw a vast face in the massive sandstorm approaching them. It's eyesockets were empty, its features indistinct and its mouth open in a wide gaping maw.

"Vooornnn" it howled at him, causing the ground to rumble.

He had nowhere to go. One way would see him swallowed by the storm, the other killed by Isabel.

"No... Not this again," Vorn pleaded. "I don't want to go... I don't want to go!"

He knew the symbolism this time, it had become all to clear. Death at the hands of someone he loved, or back to the void he had come from. It was an impossible choice... But no other roads lay open to him.

[Gil Fallenstar]

As Vorn began to despair against the encroaching storms of either side, the sand bearing down on one and the thunder and lighting on the other as well as it's herald; it's eyes wild and hungry for blood, always more blood. Within the narrowing strip of safe space between the two gruesome ends, the world seemed to ripple as if Vorns despair was a stone thrown into a body of water, waves spilling forth from the epicenter where the tension was broken.

It was as if the noise around him dimmed and was phased out by another sound a rushing sound as celestial white noise filled the area instead like a scream that continued to echo over and over. Carrying voices with it - echoes of pain, terror, and suffering; and a great shadow spreading beneath the man like a dark mist over the ground with tendrils reaching up to him as if offering assistance, their touch was hollow but it was still a presence in a reality between being alone or unwanted and the tendrils were almost as comforting fingers like the voices could feel Vorns anguish and sought to bear it with him; gathering him unto itself, understanding, forgiving, tempting.

"Taphi" a voice that seemed to echo as well, "It's hasta, you just need to nutaris," it was as if two voices were speaking at the same time one in the strange language that was rough and gravely as if the Dark Side had it's own tongue and another in galactic basic just below the surface. "But Kam will you decide? To take what's yours? You know where the Midwam is, you can feel it, touch it. Let it help you, burn it as fuel."

[Vorn]

Vorn, being untrained in the Dark Side, could not understand some of the words being spoken. They felt... Wrong. Out of place in the dreamworld. As though something, or someone, was intruding. It was jarring to Vorn, forcing him to switch his concentration between the threat on either side of him and the strange words.

"I-I don't understand!" he yelled out. There was a growing panic in his voice. The wind began to howl more strongly in response, and the sunlight above grew dimmer. The air smelled of ozone, gravedirt and ash.

[Gil Fallenstar]

There was a guttural and humorless, low laugh that responded to Vorns works as the normally composed persona that he had kept up came crashing down; the growing panic in his eyes was obvious as the scene continued to spiral towards the inevitable center where all of this would come to a climax. "Always trying to understand, yunocks morval, you need not; only know what you svajone to have and take it, you know you can and it felt zyeeeeeeemus..."

Imagines appeared in the black fog around Vorn, images of dead worlds and and destroyed enemies, power unleashed and goals achieved, "Xaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaz" the voice seemed to almost purr, "Let go of your hatred and pain, break those who would see you broken."

[Amon Fallenstar]

When the third presence arrived the storm cloud that restrained the seemingly feral beast on its leash of blue lightning crackling around its neck as he tugged against its restrains trying to get back and closer to the dark haired man. Thunderous booms could be heard between the voices words as if trying to drown him out, like nature screaming into the heavens, electricity shooting out of the cloud scorching where it touched more frequently as if the entities presence agitated it.

[Vorn]

If he strained himself, he could understand the strange words being spoken. The darkness offered him power. The power to destroy whatever he wanted. Vorn could see it, as though glimpsing one of a thousand possible futures, one where he said on a dark throne, feared by all, able to take whatever he desired.

What... What do i desire?

The promise rang hollow to Vorn. He did not crave power. What he craved was... one thing. One thing he had already given up on.

He backed away from the darkness, towards the growing storm. "You can't give me what i want, Vorn spoke sadly. "No one can."

[Isabel Lydeck]

The cat thing continued to struggle against the lightning leash that bound it, so hard it reared up on its back legs, raking the sandy air ferociously as Vorn moved close to the alternate fate, roaring and spitting, blood dripping down its jowls.

"So this is what's left of your promise?"

The feline spoke in a voice like Isabel's, but deepened, mixed, and chopped. The inflection and pitch of each syllable was mismatched, as though her sentences were pieced together from recordings of individual words she'd said in the past. The jaws of the creature didn't move to match the words, but the speech was clearly coming from its throat nonetheless.

"You'll abandon me, then, and you'll abandon yourself." The monster settled down, placing both front paws on the ground, and its mouth hung open, each bottom fang the size of Vorn's finger and dripping crimson down onto the colorless sands. "You were never dismissed, Vorn. You defeated the Sith for your own gratification, and then left me in his clutches. Tell me, what do you think I'll become now?" The beast licked its chops, eyeless sockets narrowing at the soldier. "What your selfishness will transform me into? You see it before you now. I needed you more than ever. You could have saved me from this." It raised a hooked paw, but made no more motion to struggle. "You have no purpose in your life, so come. The least you can do is die penitent for your failure. Do not turn your back on me."

[Gil Fallenstar]

The entity that was conversing with Vorn once more let out another laugh after the dog had finished talking. It was a pitiless and mirthless laugh the images on the ground shifted, showing memories of Vorn to himself and only the stuff on the surface but that was all that was needed. The dark mist projected the images across the ground, Isabel in Amons lap lowering her head down as she writhed with pleasure in the young Siths touch. "It seems his raka is exactly where she wants to be..." echoed the distorted voice as time advanced through the memory scene playing before them, her issued order and reaction of warning even after being caught in such a position before it faded away into darkness once more.

"Then do not have it auktoijas..." came the reply before after a short pause final words were added "But I can give you the power to claim it..."

[Vorn]

Vorn could not deny Isabel's voice, no matter where it came from. His feelings towards her, even now, were too strong. Even now, the oaths he swore and the duty he had taken up would not abandon him, not fully. What the darkness offered him was as nothing in the face of the enormity of that burden.

He looked back at the approaching stormfront. It was calling to him, luring him with promises of sweet solitude.

It was a lie. Vorn knew it was, because that planet offered him nothing except a pain of another kind. It is not a worthwile sacrifice to go back there.

Instead, he turned nd approached Isabel the cat-thing. He raised his rifle, trembling. He knew what he had to do, in spite of knowing what it would cost. He pulled the trigger and firing a blast of plasma at the cat-thing's chains.

[Amon Fallenstar]

The storm cloud and the form it was creating exploded to life when Vorn fired upon them, the energy weapon making contact with the energy that chained the bestial Isabel to the cloud. The blue lightning flared violently and sent a surge of power through the otherwise self contained circuit, a massive crack of thunder was heard as if it was right on top of them; then the figure made of weather patterns moved what should have been an arm and an aimed bolt of lightning blasted fourth at the offender.

The extra input Vorns blaster had provided was channeled back into the loop and discharged into the very beast he was trying to release, no doubt more than enough make ones hair stand on end.

[Isabel Lydeck]

The monster watched with greedy eyes as Vorn drew nearer, and more than once had to stop and lick its drooling mouth.

"That's it..." it crooned. It didn't flinch when Vorn raised his rifle, only reached its paw out to rest against the man's shoulder, as though with the foreknowledge of what he planned to do.

The creature did not foresee Amon's lightning burning it from both ends, however, both through the feedback loop and through the lightning on one end. With a roar of pain, the claws sank in, and in the same, involuntary motion, drove the soldier's head into the beast's waiting jaws.

[Vorn]

Vorn awoke. He shot upright, sweating, panting. Just a dream, he realised, though it had him so firmly in his grip he wasn't sure he'd ever get out.

No, it was more than a dream.

In his heart, he felt not all-consuming terror, but loss. That dream had been a sign, strange as it may have sounded.

He had failed. Failed in every possible way. And he didn't want to keep carrying that burden.

Theme

Vorn staggered through the masses, looking either very drunk or like a man possessed. This was a part of the station he usually avoided. It didn't take him long before he spotred his target.

It was a small outpost situated in what used to be a store in the walls of Nar Shaddaa. The signs on the door said "Join the Rondus military today! Gain citizenship!" It wasn't a ploy, but the chances of surviving several years of military service as a footsoldier were rather small. There were plenty of desperate folk on this planet, but the dumb ones among that group typically got weeded out fairly fast.

It would be Vorn's last stop.

He opened the door and staggered in. A woman in uniform greeted him with a polite yet mildly concerned smile.

"Hello and welcome! Are you interested in joining the Rondus military? Only a few years of servic-"

"My name is Haefran Nottlaco," Vorn said, his voice almost cracking as he forced out his confession. "Private, first class. I'm a deserter and turning myself in."

The woman looked shocked to say the least. She called for security, who tackled Vorn to the ground. He hit his head nastily on the way down, and he felt a small warm damp spot form on his scalp.

He was dragged out of the recruitment post in chains, leaving behind only a small smear of blood. The last thing he saw of Nar Shaddaa was through the back a troop carrier as the boarding ramp closed.

At last he was heading home. And finally, he'd get what he'd deserve.