[O6 - Dathomir - CE] Horrors of Dathomir

[JShortForJay]

*Your entry has earned 5 XP (x2 for limited challenge)*

“I hate this.” Said Olen. 
“Hate what?” Replied his companion, the lanky B1 battle droid. They trudged alone through the barren wastelands of Dathomir.  
“Feels like we’re being watched. It makes my skin crawl,” Olen shuddered. He pulled his cloak tight around himself, in an effort to ward off the chill. The fog was thick today. They were following a trail to a reported outpost belonging to Crimson Dawn. Olen was in no hurry to tread on the toes of one of the big syndicates but the Broker assured him it was abandoned. The tracking fob he held announced the swampland up ahead - the part Olen was dreading. He had heard it was once Nightsister territory. He paused on the ridge of red rock. “Cammie, are you picking up anything?” He asked, casually. 
“Negative. I sense only six lifeforms within 10 klicks.” 
Six? I knew we were being watched! Olen, instinctively grabbed for the Slugthrower on his shoulder. “There is no need to arm yourself, the life signs are negligible” Cammie stated. 
Olen released a breath, “You could have led with that.” Behind the visor of his helmet, Olen rolled his eyes. Cammie - or C4M - was a reprogrammed battle droid, salvaged from some battle in the Clone Wars. Olen didn’t remember which one. Cammie was pinging their location and journey to the Broker’s ship, the Magnate, in orbit, so that the outpost could be relocated later. It was good at that, but little else. The temperament of a protocol droid and the wisdom of a battle droid were not a good mix. Still, Olen appreciated the company. Especially here. 

Olen ducked low under the hanging tendril of a plant that stuck up from the ground like a spike. He paused again, allowing Cammie to scan the area. Olen had carried out plenty of daunting missions for Clan Eldar and as a bodyguard for the Broker he was used to the threat of violence. But here, he just couldn’t shake the fear. There was a pit in his stomach. It gnawed at him constantly. Olen was still exploring his psychometric abilities and the thought of what he might find on this planet unsettled him. He needed to follow the traces left behind by Crimson Dawn but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wouldn’t like what he found. The anticipation sickened him. Cammie finished the scan and their location was once again pinged to the Magnate. The pair carried on. 

It was Cammie who noticed it first. On the peak of a small hill overlooking the Nightsister swamps. The small pile of bones. Olen blanched. Why did it have to be bones? He hated reading bones. There was always so much pain. With a deep breath he steeled himself. He handed the fob to Cammie and knelt down. Peeling off a leather glove, Olen reached out a bare hand and grasped the bone…

Cammie was gone. And so was the mist. Olen knelt on the ground of Dathomir watching seasons cycle above him. He was remembering the past. 

A bolt of light struck him in the chest. Panicked, Olen reached for a pistol. Another flew over his head. Then another. He was on a battlefield. This isn’t real. Calm down. Battle droids poured across the landscape in swathes, at the vanguard was a tall, white figure. It looked like a droid, but it moved fluidly. Behind Olen, the fabled Nightsisters drew bows of crackling energy and whirled blades around, cutting slivers of black night in the swirling mist. The white figure was illuminated by a sudden glow of green. Then blue.

Olen was swept through mists again, his vision hazy. Another memory, this one of corpses, filled his mind. The Nightsisters were outnumbered, Olen watched on in horror. This was a massacre, he realised. The white droid, wielded lightsabers in its four arms spinning and slicing.

He saw a figure approach through the mist. Another woman, towering with a red hood. She didn’t move about in the memory of past events like the others. Blaster bolts sailed through him and Nightsisters swung their weapons around as if he wasn’t there at all. Olen realised this Nightsister wasn’t looking through him, like the rest, but right at him. He scrambled back from the green light that emanated from her visage. He had heard tales of magick. The battlefield he had witnessed fell silent and he was alone with the woman. The ground all around him erupted. A hand, pale and gaunt, clawed out from the earth beside him. 

Olen dropped the bone he was holding but the Nightsisters kept coming. Decaying and rotten, they crept towards him. One struck his torso with a scimitar. He was surrounded by faces contorted in silent agony. Olen screamed. Unsure of what was real and what was memory. It was green mist, not blood, that tumbled from where the blade hit flesh. The fog engulfed him. 

He felt himself tumbling, falling. Hands hitting hard rocks. No. Not rock. Bone. The dead of the Dathomir. Olen thrashed and struggled but each movement seemed to trap him more as bones piled and fell. The green mist was smothered from view as he was swallowed by the swarm of Ivory.

Olen Fass awoke slick with sweat, hair plastered to his face.. His heart hammered in his chest like a drum of war. He gulped down air. The bone lay down by his feet, he kicked it away and hurriedly replaced his glove. Someone was talking. “...and you lost consciousness. I sense your pulse returning to a normal rate for an average male of your age and species.” Cammie stood over him, still clutching the fob. “Do you need a hand getting up?” Asked the droid. Olen didn’t take the hand. He was walking the lands of the Nightsisters with one of the droids that had destroyed them. As Olen clambered to his feet he felt a sharp sting. There was a tear in his tunic. He pressed a gloved hand to his side and a trickle of blood stained the white leather. 

Olen rested for a long time before he was ready to move again. Before his legs could move again. He could see the swamps in the distance, which meant they were closer to the outpost than their shuttle. That settles it. There was only way they could go now.

“You’ve rested long enough Cammie,” Olen said as he walked deeper into the mist. 
 

Spoiler

I've always loved the Nightsister magic in star wars so i thought it would be perfect for the horror theme. 

The dead of Dathomir.

Olen Fass and his newest companion, C4M.

 

 

Edited November 3, 2020 by goatman461

[JetBricks Studios]

Awesome story and those nightsister are amazing!

[n1majneb]

Nice story, I like the use of your characters Kiffar heritage to take him back through time and the base serves as a nice anchor to the present - unchanged despite the violence thats erupted around it over time.

[JintaiZ]

Nice build!

[RocketBoy]

Dog. Dog! Dog.
Fantastic story-telling. Establishing how he feels about bones, and then burying him in bones? Extremely nice touch. I'm super impressed with the whole thing.
Cammie is great too. I'm looking forward to seeing more from Olen, consider me invested.
 

[Darth Bjorn]

Simple, yet effective! Really nice entry...

[deraven]

This is great- solid story, and nice job on portraying the whole vision sequence.  

[Ross Fisher]

Love the story with this. Really nicely done!