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21 March 2004 @ 01:06 pm
Fic: Worlds Collide, 2/?  

Title Worlds Collide 2/?
Author Shona aka Mara
Rating PG-13
Disclaimer Not my sandbox. No, really.



At the exact moment the redhead slipped into unconsciousness, on the other side of town the boy’s eyes snapped open. Cautiously he surveyed his surroundings, he seemed to be in some kind of underground room. The walls were manufactured, some kind of painted duracrete it looked like, but there were cracks you didn’t normally get in the building material. The floor immediately around him was uncluttered, a clear circle surrounded him but on the other side of the demarcation line lay stacks of unidentifiable sheets of what looked like brightly coloured flimsiplast and piles of fabrics.

There were also three men, no – they were no older than he was – watching him. The tallest of the three spoke to the others, “it worked?” Kyp frowned at the question – it was Basic but the accent was unlike any he’d ever heard.

He tried to remember how he’d gotten here, the last thing he remembered was watching as Carida burned, as Zeth died. Anger rushed through him, revitalising him. The Imps had lied – they’d told him his brother had been killed on duty. The rage built in him until he had to channel or explode.

He turned to his audience and narrowed his eyes. They must be Imp agents who’d managed to get past his defences somehow. Well, they’d pay for that.

Gathering the anger, grief and hatred, he formed it into an invisible vice and used it cut off the air supply of the shortest of the three. His victim’s eyes grew wide as he struggled to breathe and his companions could do nothing but watch in horror as he fought against seemingly nothing.

Finally, the tallest of them, the one who seemed to be the spokesman, stepped forward and asked. “Uh… Kyp? It is Kyp isn’t it?”
He didn’t reply, why should he waste his time talking to droyk Imps? They’d ignored him all of his life up till now so it was time to repay the favour.
“Oh-kay. Do you think you could let Jonathon go? I mean, he’s an annoying little dweeboid I agree, but we are gonna need him to get you back home again.”

Kyp regarded the speaker with disdain. He didn’t need anyone, only his master… He frowned as he realised he could no longer hear his master’s voice in his mind. Unconsciously he relaxed his force-hold on the smaller man and analysed his own thoughts.

Exar Kun was gone. For the first time since he’d begun his training, Kyp Durron was alone inside his own head.




Across town, Xander was crouched beside the prone figure of the downed pilot. There were some potentially nasty looking scratches across her face but other than those there were no obvious injuries. Her breathing seemed to be regular enough, albeit a little shallower than it probably should have been. No bones appeared to be broken and when he opened her eyes one at a time there was no sign of concussion. All things considered he was puzzled as to why she was out cold, which meant one of two things. Either she was injured internally; or she was faking.

Then again, considering the speed at which her plane had come down he supposed she was lucky to have made it out at all. Something about that plane was tugging at a random memory. He knew he’d seen that design before but he couldn’t place it. Storing the thought away to puzzle over when he had time, he turned his attention once more to the task at hand.

The woman stretched out before him was wearing a dark green one piece flight suit, brown leather boots and a matching brown leather jacket. There was no insignia on anything she had on her. Around her waist was a thick leather belt and hanging from it was an odd looking gun and a metallic tube, about eight inches long. The random memory tugging at his attention finally burst to the forefront of his consciousness. He rocked back on his heels as suspicion dawned. It couldn’t be what it looked like; there was no possible way.




Jonathon walked up behind Warren, still rubbing at his throat. “I told you we should have tried to get her. She’d have been much easier to control.”
Warren snorted with laughter at the thought. “You think you’d have any kind of control over the Emperor’s Hand? Face it short stuff, you can barely control your mom’s Pomeranian.”
“Hey! Lina’s tougher than she looks! And anyway, Mara’s a chick so…”
“So? You think you’d be able to charm her? Dream on little man. Mara Jade works alone. No. We’re better off with the kid here.”
“Um… guys?” Warren ignored Andrew’s singsong voice in favour of staring Jonathon down. At least until he saw his opponent’s eyes widen in shock. Sighing, he turned to see what the problem was and found himself face to face with a very angry Kyp.
“I tried to tell you the circle might not hold him. It’s designed for summoning demons not fict…” Warren held his hand up quickly, cutting Andrew’s speech off before the idiot could give anything away.
“So, Kyp,” his voice cracked and Warren cleared his throat, making a conscious effort to deepen it before starting again. “Kyp, you’ll see we’re in control here, you play ball with us and we’ll get you home.”
Kyp’s head tilted to one side as he listened. It looked like was going to take the bait after all. Warren was about to congratulate himself on his guile when the young man’s eyes hardened and he sneered.
“What do you take me for? An Agamari nerfherder? I can see straight through you. If you had any hope of control you’d have stopped me long before he,” Kyp gestured towards Jonathon, “nearly died. Unless of course that was what you wanted all along.” He smirked, “Oh yes, it’s all right there in your mind. You want them gone don’t you?”
“Warren?” Andrew asked tremulously,” What’s he talking about?”
“Shut up.” Warren hissed through clenched teeth. This wasn’t going according to plan at all. He racked his brains trying to come up with the best way to salvage the situation but he was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

Kyp smirked at him again, “Let’s have a talk about who really has control here.” Without warning he lunged forward and clutched the sides of Warren’s head with both hands. Sharp pains lanced through Warren’s head as though someone was driving a spike through his brain. His world began to grow dark until all he could see was the triumphant smile on the face before him; a face he could no longer put a name to. His last conscious thought before the darkness claimed him was, “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this…”




Mara forced herself to keep her body limp as she took stock of her surroundings. She was just beginning to trust her instincts again and there was nothing that automatically indicated danger to her. However, she still had no clue where in the galaxy she was. It would have been better if no one had found her after the crash; after all she had years of covert ops experience behind her but she’d lucked out this time. She’d been spotted.

Unable to pick up any immediate threat, she gathered her energies and directed them towards her rescuer. She was no Jedi, that much she knew, but her time at Yavin 4 had tightened up her existing abilities to the point where she could manipulate the Force enough to get an idea of the shape of people’s thoughts even if she couldn’t alter them. Yet.

 
 
 
(Deleted comment)
the girl who used to dance on fire and brimstone: mara//NJO - angel_gidgetwhiskyinmind on June 12th, 2008 12:37 pm (UTC)
Damn you and your tracking me! I feel stalked!

I only posted it 'cause I was clearing out my email at work and found it buried in there. God knows if it'll get finished or not, considering it was written about three years ago...

*g*
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