Fic to follow, but first, here's what I have been gradually working on. This is the WIP of a character profile pic for S'uun Esh : My Yuuzhan Vong warrior character that I use in a couple of RP's.



Note: This is actually part one of what I expect to be two. The second half is currently undergoing some major re-shaping, so bear with me while that happens ;)
Excuse the bittiness of this if I was unable to edit it all out, one too many sleepless nights and too many early mornings have taken their toll :p

As I Die.

Chapter 7

1 Standard Week later.


A pleasantly cool breeze, wafted gently over the back of a prone figure, laid out carefully upon a moss-laden dais to one side of a large hut-like structure. Somewhere in the distance, the being could hear the soft bubbling of flowing water, avians sang further away, calling to one another in kind and all around him, he could hear the soft padding of someone?s feet - or was it two sets of feet? He listened again, concentrating as hard as he could manage.
No?only one, taking small, yet quick, steps.

Awareness was slowly returning to him, along with his senses, in what seemed like every gradual beat his heart had taken since awakening. He tried to open his eye, only to find that a strip of cloth, wound securely about his head, prevented him from doing so easily.
What had happened? How long had he been here like this?
And more importantly, was he now someone's captive?

No- they couldn't know, he had made certain that he was unrecognizable! It would have been impossible to tell who he was after the time he had spent festering in the corrosive guts of that gods forsaken maw luur!

Was he a Galactic Alliance captive, or Yuuzhan Vong? Either way, his fate would surely be the same, would it not?

Execution - it was almost ironic.

The sound of someone's approach caused him to tense abruptly, and he inconspicuously tried to wiggle his fingers experimentally - his hands remained unbound together, perhaps they had been careless, not expecting him to wake so soon? He had, however, clearly been drugged, his slow reactions testament to that fact.
Very un-Yuuzhan Vong.

The sudden weight of gentle, small hands upon his back, caused Nom Anor to start - visibly so - literally springing up several millimetres from his resting place, attempting to lash out at whoever his captor was, yet he found his limbs held oddly static. As he attempted to move, he became aware of the fact that restraints of some sort, held his wrists, waist, thighs and ankles gently, but firmly, in their position.
He began to really test his bonds, and at once heard a startled ?squeak? of surprise from the direction of whoever those hand?s belonged to, that was a nano second before a rather diminutive voice began to speak?..in basic.

"Oh! Please - you are safe, I don?t mean you any harm, but you are very badly injured; do not attempt to move any further."

Nom Anor opened his mouth to speak, but found it to be as dry as bone dust.
As if pre-empting his question, the small voice responded in answer

"You are safe," It repeated, and Nom Anor found it very hard to pinpoint with whom - or rather what - he was listening to, they sounded almost like a small infidel child!
And as for it proclaiming he were safe, well, safe was all a matter of opinion.

"You are on the world known as Zonama Sekot, but do not be alarmed, there is much to explain - you are lucky, you know, when they found you, the officers sent to retrieve those left aboard the Yuuzhan Vong craft, they thought you were dead - "

There was some shuffling of feet, and Nom Anor felt the cool moistness of some form of organic strips making contact with his heavily blistered skin. Pain, new and virulent in it?s many forms, blossomed with renewed energy across his seared nerves, forcing a hiss from his lungs, shamefully.

Neathlats!? This made no sense, since when did infidels begin to use neathlats?

"Apologies." The voice said woefully, "You have sustained much damage, but we are doing all we can to heal you."

"-We?" Nom Anor managed to strain the words out, though even that was an effort.

"Yes, we, the ferroans, those shapers and extolled that are willing to help and the Jedi"

The former prefect's blood ran icy, eclipsing the pain he felt from practically every nerve in his body - Jedi....did they know? Could they know who he really was? This one's tone suggested not, but he knew not if they were one of the Jedi, or indeed one of the ferroans that had apparently settled here too.

"My name is Tekli; I should congratulate you on reaching the world of your redemption." Her voice was too musically cheerful to be sarcastic, Nom Anor realized, she meant what she had said whole heartedly.

She believed him to be a shamed one...

His heart still drumming with post-shock and intensity, sang with gratitude for the plan that had actually worked. He was alive, yet presumed dead by those who would have interred him, tortured him, killed him in the most unworthy way - And Nom Anor intended to keep it that way.
He had done something similar before, when he had faced death at the hands of his own people, but he had learned how to stay hidden then, the intricacies of what would, or would not get one caught. Oh one day he would return alright, but it would be under very different circumstances.

"Remain still, I will fetch you some water, organic means if you wish?"

The former prefect nodded once, unable to keep himself from smiling maliciously as he heard the sound of miniscule retreating footsteps fade into the background noise of Zonama's native life.

The thought now re-entered his mind, that he was somehow familiar with the name 'Tekli,' though be that through information gifted to him by one of his agents, or some other means, he could not quite decide - his mind still tangled in the web of haziness that still clung to his fatigued mind and body.
In time he would remember, and in time, sooner than he would have liked perhaps, he would need to prepare for the worst. Contingency plans were often the best of all solutions, even when they were secondary to the first initiated plan to start with.

The sound of footsteps approaching brought Nom Anor abruptly out of his reverie and he was soon aware of a small presence in front of him.

"Here, drink in small sips, you have been incapacitated for some time."

He felt the edge of what must have been a drinking vessel, press against his painfully cracked lips. Obliging the invitation, he drank with relish, cool, life-giving water sliding past his lips and into his throat, quenching both thirst and putting a partial end to the bone-dryness of his entire gullet.
When he had drunk enough, Tekli took the vessel - a dried seed pod of some kind - away and placed it upon a surface to one side.

Turning, so that her voice was once again projected in the direction of the yuuzhan vong male, she spoke,

"If you need anymore, do not hesitate to ask....my apologies for the restraints and blindfold, the extent of your burns required that you be kept as immobile as possible." She seemed to sound more regretful now, as though the worst news was to come.

"I am afraid the acids that caused this, destroyed one of your eyes completely."

Nom Anor found it nigh on impossibly hard to prevent himself from issuing a bark of harsh laughter, how wrong could this Tekli be? How woefully wrong indeed.
Instead though, he merely responded using the same pitiful tone he had used beforehand.

"A worthy sacrifice, if it means that I live to see the redemption of the shamed with the one eye that remains."

He knew how infidel and heretic thought, he had spent extensive time among both groups - too long some had said - and knew much about their ways. Nom Anor knew without a doubt, how many of either group, would sacrifice much so that one could live, others choosing to injure themselves in minor ways if it meant life for themselves too, though perhaps they saw this as the lesser of two evils? Either way, the latter could be done out of pure selfish need for survival, in which case he was not too different from them at all.

Now there was an idea that served to fill him with disdain, but that was how it had been for as long as he could remember. Since his crèche days, he had done what he'd had to survive, to eliminate rivals and those who sought to do him harm, to get in the way of his ambitions and goals. Nothing and no one had stood in his way for long....not even Shimrra, he realized with a bitter inward chuckle.
The overlord's frozen corpse must be star food by now, as shattered and broken as his whole regime, brought to it's knees.
But not Nom Anor....he was still here, still able to achieve what he wished.

Tekli's strange snuffled-squeak of approval almost made him growl with disapproval at her interrupting his thoughts again, but he resisted all the same.

"When you recover, you may join your fellow extolled in the gardens of unity if you wish? We have begun creating a program of caste integration in this settlement. Some members from different castes have agreed to the terms stated by Sekot's magister, Jabitha." The small-sounding female was saying.

Through the quagmire of gibberish this female seemed to enjoy spouting, Nom Anor discerned an unfamiliar word -'extolled.'
It was not that he did not understand it's meaning, it was that he found it incredibly hard to believe, that the group he assumed had taken on this name, was made up entirely of workers and shamed ones.
Disgusting, utterly disgusting....the caste system had worked - integration could only mean conflict, a return to eternal domain disputes and power struggles far greater than any one person could contend with - especially if they too vied for power themselves.
Peace was not the Yuuzhan Vong way, but of course, the legacy of the true way lay in tattered ruins now. What would the priests make of all of this? He wondered.

"-But first I must ask you some questions"

Nom Anor stiffened at the sudden intrusive voice uttered those words...why now? Not now!

"...what is your name?"

He spoke without thought, plucking a name from thin air, making certain it was devoid of a domain name as were most shamed.

"Yem-zi"

The Yuuzhan Vong almost shuddered when he heard that same, chipper squeak of approval again, however, she was not through with him yet.

"When you were found, you were surrounded by many dead Yuuzhan Vong warriors, and curiously, what has since been confirmed to be a dead biological waste disposal unit? You must forgive my mistranslation...a maww-"

"Maw luur" Nom Anor corrected, cursing the slight edge to his voice, he had not expected to be questioned on this precarious matter until much much later - clearly they had decided that extracting the truth from him now, would give an impostor less time to think on their toes.

"Yes, that's it....from what I gathered from the report given by both Alliance official and Yuuzhan Vong interpreter, beings do not just fall into Maw luur."

There was an uncomfortable silence that drifted between them then, through which Nom Anor could hear the rapidly increasing beat of his heart hammering in his head, as the urge to fight or take flight, by any means necessary, began to kick in. He felt his muscles bunch painfully, but forced himself to ignore the sear of agony.
Could he free himself quick enough? His eye would be unused to the sudden influx of light, he would be fighting blind for several minutes, and on unknown territory. Only a fool fought in situations such as this.

"Yem-Zi..." Tekli gently pushed "What happened to you?"

TBC