MOTF Book I: BOTE Chapter 20

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MOTF Book I: BOTE Chapter 20 Empty MOTF Book I: BOTE Chapter 20

Post by Emperordmb on Thu Jan 01, 2015 10:15 pm

Arthur, Jaira, and his parents were sitting in a room in the Lightor base, celebrating the most recent victory of their people. A victory that Arthur and Jaira had achieved themselves. Never had Arthur been so proud in his life. The boy he killed at the mines was none other than Prince Dylan of the Shadikill. As the son of the Shadikill Queen Suzanne, and the son of the head of the Council of Alliance, Dylan had stood to inherit both his mother’s throne, and his father’s seat as head of the council. Such a thing would have been disastrous for the Lightor.

At the beginning of the great war of Innamorta thousands of years ago, the Lightor had held a distinct edge over every other Innamortan kingdom, and had been on the verge of driving all of them into extinction or submission. That had all changed when a Shadkill warrior named Mogar took charge and united the Shadkill, the Blastidonez, the Bladewrath, and the Speartons in an effort to subvert the will of the Lightor, thus forming the alliance between the warrior kingdoms of Innamorta and sitting as the first head of the then newly formed Council of Alliance.

With the warrior kingdoms of Innamorta united, they were able to wage war against the Lightor, locking them in a war that had lasted for thousands of years with neither side getting an edge. In the past few decades however, the alliance had been pressing the Lightor harder than they ever had before. Though they were united, their conflicting viewpoints led to times of indecisiveness for the alliance, allowing the Lightor to hold out against them. Ever since the marriage Mogar’s heir Mogarius and the Queen of the Shadikill Suzanne, the alliance had gained more of a drive, now that the power of the Shadkill Throne was locked in wedlock with that of the Council of Alliance, the Shadkill had been able to drive the war effort in a way they hadn’t been able too since the days of Mogar himself.

Arthur and most of the Lightor, past and present, recognized the Shadikill as their greatest enemies. Not only were the Shadikill the most populous of the Innamortan warrior races, they were also the most cunning. Rather than dedicate themselves to one form of weapon as the other warrior races had done, the Shadikill had instead devoted their skills in battle to adaptability, allowing them to more effectively respond to Lightor strategy and tactics.

Had Dylan lived long enough to inherit this kind of power, Arthur knew he would’ve been able to unite and drive the Innamortan warrior kingdoms in a way that nobody else had ever been able to do. His leadership would inspire those in the Alliance, and his unquestionable authority would direct them. Arthur had great faith in the knowledge and intellect of his people, but if Dylan rose to power like that, Arthur doubted they would be able to stand against the intensified and united power of the Alliance.

Fortunately enough for the Lightor, Arthur had killed Dylan at the edge of a mining complex, wiping out his passion and cunning with the product of his own intellect. Arthur and his parents had never been so proud of him in all of their lives.

“Tell me how you two did it again,” Arthur’s father, King Barrus asked with a tone of great pride in his voice.

“Well father,” Arthur began. “First, Jaira led one of his officers into a trap, drawing her in towards me, and just as I fired my Anti-Particle Cannon to kill her, the Prince leapt in front of her with the intention of saving her.”

“He had the potential to be our greatest enemy ever,” his father scoffed. “Even greater than his ancestor Mogar. Yet he was destroyed by his own misdirected passion, and by the luminous intellect of the Lightor.” He paused for a second before grinning at Arthur. “Your own Luminous intellect.”

“We are so very proud of you Arthur,” his mother said before throwing her arms around him and embracing him. “You will make a splendid king one day.”

Arthur embraced his mother back. Much like his people and city, he loved his parents with all of his heart, and would do anything to protect him. Despite everything the Shadikill Prince had stood for, Arthur couldn’t help but admire his self sacrifice, giving his own life to protect that of his friend. It was the single reason he had let her live after killing him. It was a simple act of mercy and respect, because Arthur knew he would’ve done the same for those he loved. Arthur couldn’t imagine a day where his parents and Jaira wouldn’t be alive with him. He didn’t want to imagine it.

The moment at hand seemed perfect. He had just saved his people from almost certain destruction, his parents were happy, he was happy Jaira was happy. He thought nothing could spoil this moment, and then the alarms went off.


For ten minutes, Dylan had walked through the Lightor base, though it felt like hours. The curse of anticipation. Five minutes ago the alarms had started blaring. Guided by Vu’s instructions, Dylan was making his way closer and closer to the detention block where Shorya was being held. All of his thought was bent on her. It was true that he wanted revenge against the golden armored Lightor that he heavily suspected was the Lightor prince Arthur. It was also true that he would bring himself great honor if he killed Arthur. But his rage and hatred were tools. While he was motivated to kill Arthur, he was far more motivated to save Shorya, and would not risk her life and freedom in order to kill one Lightor.

Every so often he heard a squad of Lightor soldiers running down a hallway near him, and he had been forced to back up into a corner and activate his cloaking device while standing perfectly still until they passed. Every single time before now he was able to evade discovery in this manner. This time however, he didn’t have the time to run into the corner. This time he was forced to freeze and cloak in the middle of the hallway as a group of six Lightor soldiers approached him, heading towards the other end of the base, the same area of the base that the alarms were alerting them to being under attack.

Dylan stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, his body completely invisible, shrouded by the cloaking device inside of his jacket. As the soldiers came closer and closer to him, Dylan hoped with all of his might that they would turn into an intersecting hallway, but they kept coming closer and closer to him. He realized if he stood still, one of them would run right into him, but if he moved, they would all be alerted to his presence.

Unsure of what to do, he just stood there desperately trying to figure a way out of his situation. Finally, when one of the soldiers was but five feet in front of him, Dylan decided, screw it!

Suddenly, Dylan burst into action. He reached behind him, pulled his katana off of his back, raised it above his head, and swung it down with all of his might, cleaving the unfortunate soldier’s head, right shoulder, and right arm from the rest of his body in one swift and powerful motion. The other soldiers leapt back in surprise at the Shadkill who had seemingly materialized out of thin air. Dylan pressed his advantage, diving in and cleaving the nearest soldier’s head off, before stabbing another one through the chest.

By this point the other three soldiers had drawn there weapons, so Dylan kicked the soldier whom he had impaled with all of his might, freeing his sword from the man’s chest and sending his body flying into the soldier standing behind him. As the other two soldiers fired, Dylan leapt to the side, rolling across the ground on his back, dodging their blasterfire and ending up crouched back up on his feet.

Sheathing his katana on his back, Dylan instead drew his magnum, and fired two shots at one of the two soldiers, both striking him directly in the head and dropping his body to the ground. Leaping forwards, Dylan ducked under the blasterfire of the second soldier before kicking his legs out from under him with a swipe of his own leg. Simultaneously, Dylan shot the soldier he had just knocked over in the chest three times as he kicked the soldier just now getting back up in the face. The result was that the soldier he shot died, and the soldier he kicked fell back to the ground, only to have his life ended a second later by two well placed shots to the throat.

Wishing to leave the area before more guards showed up, Dylan took off sprinting in the direction of Shorya’s detention cell. Before long, Dylan ran straight into a group of four combat droids. He could’ve stopped and hidden behind the corner. He could’ve cloaked and remained hidden to them. But the adrenaline was already rushing through him and he was in no mood to stop and wait now.

Without warning, Dylan charged at the first combat droid, slammed it into the wall hard enough to leave cracks, and fired two blasterbolts straight through its head at point blank. As the other three droids raised their blaster cannon infused arms to attack him, Dylan wrapped his arms around the first one, hoisted it in the air, and threw it with all of his might at the other droids, striking two of them and sending them toppling over.

As the fourth droid fired at Dylan, he leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding its blast as he placed a shot through the front of its armored chassis. Its second shot missed him as well, given that it was knocked off balance by the shot Dylan had scored on it. Seizing his advantage, Dylan closed the distance between him and the droid, stuck the tip of his magnum through the hole in its chassis, and fired three times into its insides before letting it fall to the ground.

At that point the other two droids had made it back on their feet, but before they could take aim and fire, Dylan drew his katana and swung it in a wide arc, lopping off one of the droid’s legs, and cutting a large gash in the front of the other one’s chest. In one swift motion, Dylan fired his magnum twice into the tear in the standing droid’s chassis while simultaneously stabbing his katana blade through the amputee droid’s faceplate.

Casting a quick glance around the room to make sure no other Lightor soldier or droid was in the vicinity, Dylan again took off running towards the detention block, and towards Shorya.


Jedi Councilor Nalaniel walked into the main council chamber to find the Grand Master Mongooku standing in the center of the room. On his face was an expression signifying deep contemplative thought. The light side of the force rolled off of the Grand Master like large waves swirling throughout the very depths of the force.

The very presence of the Grand Master was a beacon to all Jedi, a source of great hope and inspiration. Standing in his presence was comforting and soothing, especially to a Jedi Master like Nalaniel, though she knew the Sith felt a very different set of emotions when in close proximity to this champion of the Light Side of the Force.

If the prophecy of the one born from the Light was true, then the Galaxy had reason to rejoice and cheer for the coming of one powerful enough to destroy the Dark Side. if Grand Master’s presence glowed this brightly in the Light Side, then Nalaniel could only imagine the intensity with which the being of this prophecy would glow. She could only imagine how heavily immersed in the force he would become. She could only imagine how his very being would change and warp to become an avatar of the Light Side far more majestic and powerful than any Jedi who had ever walked the face of the Galaxy, and she could only imagine how the Galaxy would change around him, submerged in the light. Submerged in its own salvation.

“You called for me Master?” Nalaniel asked, always eager to absorb whatever teachings, instruction, knowledge, or mission Mongooku had for her. Though she was the greatest Sage Master in the Order, Mongooku knew many things about the Light Side of the Force that she did not. And as of late, after hearing the prophecy straight from the Great Holocron itself, Mongooku had become devoted to its fulfillment, almost to the point of obsession, meditating on it every single day, exploring the depths of the Great Holocron for hours at a time, searching for answers.

“Ah yes, Nalaniel. Welcome,” Mongooku greeted her.

“I sense you discovered something new about the prophecy?” Nalaniel asked, her conclusion as much devised from context clues as it was sensed through the force.

“As a matter of fact I have,” Mongooku began. “I have a mission for you, and you won’t be going alone.”

It was then that Nalaniel felt a very distinct and familiar presence nearby. A smile spread across her face as the door to the council chamber opened, revealing a very familiar figure.

“Greetings Kawa’ii,” Nalaniel said, beaming at the sight of her former apprentice.

“It’s good to see you again,” Kawa’ii said, flashing her former master a cute smile.

Kawa’ii was a Jedi Knight whom Nalaniel had trained for a decade before her knighting ceremony. That day had been perhaps the proudest day of Nalaniel’s life. She was a pink female Twi’lek in her early twenties, though she could’ve easily passed for a young teenager to most people. The first two words that usually came to mind when people saw the young Jedi Knight were cute and adorable. Though behind the exceedingly adorable facial expressions she would make, Nalaniel knew that Kawa’ii was a wise and powerful Jedi knight, well on her way to becoming a Sage Master like her.

“Well, now that you both are here I would like to begin,” the Grand Master said as the two Jedi Sages turned to face him. “For the past few nights, I have been having dreams.  Dreams of a mysterious shimmering barrier in an isolated area of space. It was almost like a monolith. Nothing entered the barrier, and nothing exited it. My gaze however pierced the barrier, and beyond it I saw a planet. It felt strong with the force, holding a sense of destiny and fate to it.”

“And you believe this planet has something to do with the prophecy?” Nalaniel asked.

“I believe this planet has everything to do with the prophecy,” Mongooku responded, a look of certainty fixed on his face. “I believe this planet is where we will find the child of the prophecy.”

“So you wish to send us to that planet?” Kawa’ii asked, looking as adorable as ever.

“No,” Mongooku replied, his answer shocking both Nalaniel and Kawa’ii. “I do not know where this mysterious anomaly is. I am sending you to find the one person who does know. Word is being passed around on Naboo that a man commissioned a painting from one of their renown painter of something he had come across in space and taken a holo-recording of. The description of the holo-recording perfectly matches what I see in my dreams.”

“So you want us to find this man, and retrieve the coordinates from him?” Nalaniel asked.

“Yes,” Mongooku replied. “But first, you must seek the painter out. Her name is Madora Sidale. Find her, and find out who commissioned the painting from her. Only then will we be able to find this mysterious explorer, and learn the location of the planet.”

“We will leave at once master,” Kawa’ii said before giving a cute little bow. Nalaniel trailed behind her out of the council chamber, eager to partake in such an important task with her former padawan.


Dylan ran up to a massive, heavy set blast door. According to Vu, going directly through this chamber was the quickest way to get to the detention block. Dylan hoped he was right. Still though, something about this room made him feel uncomfortable. It almost felt like something was waiting for him. He quickly brushed the thought away as he walked towards the door. If he had to go through this room to reach Shorya, then he was going to go through this room.

Quickly, Dylan rummaged around in his jacket pocket and pulled out the slicer spike. “Hold on Shorya, here I come,” Dylan muttered to himself as he jammed it into the door controls. Almost immediately the multi-ton metal door slid upwards, revealing a very large chamber. It looked to Dylan to be at least 20 meters in each of it’s dimensions, seemingly completely empty.

Not wanting to waste any more time than he had too, Dylan raced through the large blast doors and took off running towards the other end of the chamber, where a second massive blast door was. Suddenly and inexplicably, Dylan let his legs fall out from under him and threw himself to the ground. He didn’t know why he did this, he was simply acting on a sharp impulse he had. Just as his body struck the ground, he heard a small explosion from his right. Glancing to the right, he saw two very large scorch marks on the wall.

A growing feeling of terror filled him as he scrambled back to his feet and looked to his left, to find himself face to face with a large mechanized monstrosity, standing in the corner of the chamber, hidden from the view of anyone looking through the entrance. That must’ve been how Dylan failed to notice it. He made a silent note to himself that he would have to be more careful about that kind of thing in the future, but right now he had more pressing matters to deal with.

The machine in front of him was a dark blue and stood at nearly four meters tall. It’s legs, arms and body were heavily armored, and on each of its arms sat dual blaster cannons and two blades sitting to the side of them. Dylan’s first thought was that it was a droid, but upon closer examination of the shape of its torso, Dylan realized it had been built with the intention of fitting a person in there. Realizing it was a mech suit of some kind, Dylan realized there had to be somebody in there.

As the mech suit took aim again, Dylan dove to the right, narrowly avoiding the next barrage of blasterfire, before drawing his magnum and firing two quick shots at the mech suit’s chassis. Both shots glanced off of the suit’s armor like they were pebbles thrown at a mountain of metal. Dylan silently swore in his head, wishing he had his rocket launcher with him.

Realizing there was no way any of his weapons would penetrate the mech suit’s armor, Dylan determined that the best option he had at survival was to disable the mech’s blaster cannons before they could kill him. At that thought, the mech suit fired four more times in his direction, and Dylan threw himself out of the way, narrowly dodging the blasts before they could claim his life. The Lightor manning the mech suit was relentless however, driving the mech suit closer and closer to Dylan as it maintained a constant barrage of cannon fire.

Dylan survived the next few seconds purely on instinct. He leapt back and forth, threw his body from side to side, rolled across the floor, and twisted and contorted his body, narrowly evading each and every shot that came his way. He didn’t know how he was able to do it, it wasn’t even a conscious thought, he was acting on pure instinct as surge after surge of adrenaline raced through his body.

Dylan knew he should’ve been dead by now and realized he couldn’t survive for much longer. That’s when he decided to change up the game and catch his opponent by surprise. He glared at the mechanized monstrosity in front of him. I will destroy you! he thought to himself.

Immediately after ducking under a cannon blast that would’ve blasted his face off, Dylan broke into a reckless charge, practically throwing himself at the mech suit. Before the mech’s operator could properly adapt to this sudden new tactic of his, Dylan drew his katana, and swung it at the mech’s arm with all of his might. There was a loud crack as his blade tore through the two blaster cannons on the mech’s right arm. Dylan didn’t have a moment to celebrate however. Less than a second after his blow landed, Dylan was forced to slide across the floor on his knees as the blades on its other arm slashed towards him, passing less than a couple of inches above its head.

As Dylan sprung back to his feet, he brought his blade down hard on the two blaster cannons on the mech’s left arm. As it swung its arm around again in a blinding motion, Dylan threw his body backwards, tumbling to the ground and landing awkwardly on his back. Seizing its momentary advantage, the mech suit raised its right arm and took aim at Dylan. But when it tried to fire, its arm was engulfed in a fiery explosion, leaving behind only a twisted metal stump where its blaster cannons and blades should have been.

As the mech suit reeled back from the explosion, Dylan scrambled back to his feet. The mech recovered quickly however, and dashed towards Dylan with blinding speed, its operator obviously deciding against attempting to fire the blaster cannons on the other arm. Dylan ducked as it swung its left arm at his face, narrowly evading the razor sharp blades protruding from it. He was not fortunate however to evade its other arm. The mech immediately swung its right arm at him, catching him square in the abdomen. Dylan felt his bones crack under the blunt force of the blow as his body was plucked from the ground and sent flying across the chamber.

A cry of anguish escaped Dylan’s mouth as he struck the ground hard, fifteen yards away from the mech suit. Quickly, Dylan leapt back up to his feet, the effort it took to do so sending a jolt of pain coursing through his abdomen. He so desperately wanted to stay put, for every movement caused him great pain, though he knew the Lightor hidden inside the mech suit would not allow him to do that.

Dylan quickly glanced around the room and saw another mech suit sitting in the corner of the chamber. Briefly, Dylan considered trying to make it over to the other mech suit before dismissing the idea. The other mech would kill him in the time it would take to actually get inside of the mech suit, and even if he managed to get inside he had no idea how to operate it. In less than a second however, Dylan’s eyes were drawn to something else. The large blast door embedded in the wall a little over five meters away from him.

Before he could move, the mech suit bolted towards him, covering ground at an astonishing speed. Dylan desperately raced towards the door, slammed his fist on the button that opened it. Just as the door slid open, Dylan’s entire back felt like it was engulfed in fire, the blunt stump of an arm the mech had striking him in the back and sending him hurtling through the door.

Dylan felt his body slam hard into the wall just outside of the door, as his fingers released their grip on his katana. His katana clattering to the ground a few feet away from him, Dylan was now unarmed as the mech continued its charge.

As the mech’s front foot entered the doorway, Dylan desperately thrust his arms out in front of him, as if they would somehow protect him from his impending demise. Miraculously, the large mech’s speedy charge was brought to a sudden halt, its body seemingly frozen in the middle of the doorway.

Not wasting a second questioning what had just happened, Dylan leapt forward and slammed his hand on the control panel on outside of the door. The large door immediately slammed down, and there was a loud crashing noise as the mech suit was crushed under several tons of metal.

Dylan let out a large sigh of relief as his body dropped to the ground, and slowly crawled over to the nearest wall, leaning on it for support. He reached inside of his jacket, and removed a couple of health sims. Breathing heavily, Dylan injected both health stims into his body, and almost immediately felt his bodies healing properties kick into overdrive. Dylan let out another relieved sigh as the sharp pain in his chest and back began to vanish.

This will certainly be a tale to tell the squad Dylan thought to himself. For some reason his mind wasn’t trying to wrap itself around what happened. Though it seemed almost completely impossible looking back on it, somehow what had happened felt natural, purposeful. It wasn’t a random event that allowed him to prevail. He wasn’t still drawing breath because of chance. It almost felt… like destiny.

Glancing back over at the crushed mech suit, he saw a puddle of yellow on the ground. It was the blood of the Lightor. Whoever was in the mech suit was certainly dead, their body completely crushed beyond any hope of recovery or salvation, their very internal organs most likely ground to pulp. Dylan would be surprised if their body would still be recognizable to those who had known them.

Dylan sat there, slumped up against the wall for a couple of minutes, before slowly rising to his feet. He injected another health stim into his abdomen for good measure before racing off towards the detention block.


Arthur stood with Jaira, waiting at the landing pad. They had both headed there immediately after putting on their armor and grabbing their weapons, which they had done as soon as the alarms went off. Their instructions were to take a ship, flee the base, and return to the Lightor Castle immediately. But they had walked outside, Jaira had immediately taken notice of the dead bodies of four Lightor guards.

“Where did your parents go?” Jaira asked. “We have to warn them that the alarms were a diversion.”

“My father headed off towards the control center with a squad of soldiers,” Arthur explained. “He’s going to check with the chief operator to make sure everything is alright.”

“But if they set off the false alarm, chances are they have taken the control center,” Jaira protested.

“In which case they will be killed as soon as my father reaches it,” Arthur replied calmly.

“What about your mother?” Jaira asked.

“She went to go get her A.C.E.” Arthur explained. A.C.E. as Arthur and Jaira both knew, was an acronym that stood for advanced combat exosuit. As its name suggested, it was a highly advanced suit of mech armor designed for combat, with two blaster cannons and blades on each arm. Arthur’s father also owned one, and they had brought both of the A.C.E.s to the base with them.

“We need to wait here Jaira,” Arthur began. “Both of my parents are well protected, so we need to stay here and wait by the ships so that if they try and escape, we can cut them off.”


Dylan’s heart was racing just as fast as he was racing down the hallways of the Lightor base. The detention block was close, very close. And so was Shorya. Dylan was so close to her now, he could practically feel her presence, as silly as such a concept seemed to him. His body was trembling with anticipation. He was so close, so close to rescuing her.

Dylan had just passed the first of the detention cell doors. Instead of stopping to check if Shorya was inside, he instead kept racing, letting his instincts guide him. Suddenly, he skidded to a stop at one of the doors. He didn’t know how, but he knew Shorya was behind this door. He could somehow feel it as if she were a beacon calling out to his very soul.

Dylan’s heartbeat became quicker and quicker as he approached the door with slow, but purposeful steps, each one bringing him closer to Shorya. His body quivered with each and every step he took. The anticipation swirled through his mind, permeating each and every one of his thoughts.

Finally he reached the door, took out his slicer spike, and stabbed it into the control console. The few seconds between him stabbing the slicer spike into the console and the blast doors opening felt like hours to Dylan. He had always responded to the statement “patience is a virtue” with the response “a virtue I don’t have,” but this was something else entirely. His entire body trembled and quaked with anticipation as the door seemingly opened in slow motion.

When the door finally did open, Dylan looked inside and the world froze. There she was. Shorya. Inside of the prison cell, chained to the wall. Like an animal! Dylan thought, his thoughts filling with rage. Surrounding her were at least a dozen Lightor guards. The Lightor prince was not among them, but to Dylan it felt like he was watching and laughing at the hopeless odds he was faced with. Dylan felt his hands ball up into fists. The hate was swelling in him now.

A surge of adrenaline jolted through his entire body, then another one, then another one. His body was shaking with passion, consumed by both love and hate. The entire moment felt unreal, as if he were in a dream or a trance. His eyes closed for a second. His love for Shorya, his anger for where she was now, and his hatred for the Lightor and their prince flew to the forefront of his mind, sweeping up each and every one of his thoughts in a storm of emotion.

He felt it. A shadow buried deep inside of his very soul. The same shadow he had felt when he through himself in front of the blast meant for Shorya. The same shadow he had felt when his world was engulfed in pain and passion as a green light consumed him, leaving him in darkness. The shadow in his soul fed off of his love, his anger, and his hatred, expanding inside of him until it permeated his every thought, invigorating his body, giving him the drive to do what he had to do.

He wanted desperately to reach Shorya, to free her, and to hold her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. And when his eyes opened, he was ready to annihilate anybody and everybody who stood in between him and Shorya. The guards drew their weapons, and he almost laughed. They were all going to die.

MOTF Book I: BOTE Chapter 20 Dmb10
High King Droogie

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