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Bondo III; a cursed world. A world beyond redemption can only get worse.
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It’s been 2 years since the outbreak. Although thousands were able to escape via space shuttles…
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The millions left on the desolate world are without a means of escape. They are trapped with whats inside.
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“We’ll find shelter here, then keep looking in the morning.” the human Padawan, S’ven Marloew decided.
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“Sure thing, kid.” Rhic Grymz grumbled back.
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After the two caught eyes on a corpse, Rhic stepped forward to take out the Downer.
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“Let it go, Rhic,” S’ven countered…
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“Look, it’s a clone wearing its helmet it can’t hard you.” S’ven pointed,
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“It doesn’t matter to me what it’s wearing. It’s a Downer. They killed your master; my friend.” the human reminded,
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“We don’t clear: we die…”
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“We don’t die: we clear.”
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The corpse squirmed in its own pool of blood, making chirping, teeth-grinding sounds following by a bone grinding screech.
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Rhic stood over it like a shadow of death, as he was for dozens of the dead.
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His dark blanket of death began to fall over the corpse…
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S’ven stood their watching…
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Rhic pulled the trigger…
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…just as the Downer scrambled towards the survivor, the blast grazing the corpses shoulder.
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The Downer fell onto its back grinding its teeth across its deteriorating jaw line…
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Just then an emerald light saber blade brandishes across the neck of the Downer.
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“I had it.” Rhic growled,
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“You didn’t have to have it.” S’ven countered.
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The two soul survivals found themselves glaring at each other. Rhic was angry, S’ven was emotionless.
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“I don’t want…” S’ven stopped himself to correct his sentence,
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“We can’t butt heads at each other. We survive together that’s how it should be.” the young Jedi advised,
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Rhic looked down at his feat. The boy was right and he knew it. The boy was just like his master.
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“There’s another one,” S’ven whispered, his breath almost shaky, “I didn’t even sense it coming.”
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There it was, just standing there. Nothing in the world to care for. It used to be someone. Now it is a mindless thing.
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“Come on,” S’ven ordered, “I don’t know if there’s more, I can’t feel there presence.”
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Then there was another.
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“Down turn off your light saber,” Rhic mumbled, “too much noise.”
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“Right. Head for those fallen wall pieces.”
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Carefully and cautiously, the two survivors slowly trotted across the wreckage of what used to be a bridge.
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“Careful, Rhic.” warned the Padawan as he made it first to safety.
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“Working on it.” Rhic replied,
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Then there was another Downer stumbling beside the other two that had partnered up. What had once been one was slowly becoming a horde.
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For a moment, Rhic froze. His steps became slower, his sweat colder, and his muscles strained.
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“Almost there.” Rhic stumbled,
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At last he reached the temporary safe haven. S’ven crawled under the shelter, Rhic began to follow, but he found himself hesitating.
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It was two years ago that everything here was normal. Buying a ticket and flying to another world was easier than pulling hair off a bantha. Now it’s finding a shuttle that has become the most difficult task on Bondo III.
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Shaking his head as if tossing the thoughts from his mind, Rhic crawled under the shelter.
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“S’ven,” Rhic whispered, “turn around…”
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“…There’s more than three.”
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S’ven found himself in a daze. The Force weighed down upon him, telling him what must be done.
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“Stay here, Rhic.” S’ven demanded, followed by the stopping of Rhic’s heart.
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“No. There’s no many, you can’t take them all.”
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“Rhic, if we both go out there both of us will die. One of us has to go on. Find a shuttle, get back to Coruscant and tell the Republic what has happened.”
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Rhic gave in to S’ven’s suggestion. He’ll miss the young padawan, maybe even as much as he’ll miss the padawan’s master.
“Go.”
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Racing into the horde, his light saber like a green fan, S’ven ran through the corpses like a knife over paper.
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“Hey over here!” S’ven cried out over the grumbling of the dead…
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…gaining an audience of the cursed!
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Twirling his light saber with swift speed, the padawan cut down one Downer after the other…
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S’ven winced at the sight of blood spraying across the burocrete. But his blade did not falter. The emerald sword spinning in all directions with each moment a Downer crumbling to the ground.
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“There is no emotion, there is peace!” S’ven growled…
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Blood splattered against walls, “There is no ignorance, there is knowledge!”
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Bodies fell, “There is no passion, there is serenity!”
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The dead gathered in a chorus of growls, “There is no chaos, there is harmony!”
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The cursed closed in, “There is no death…”
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Just then a Downer snagged S’ven from behind pulling him to the ground as the many Downers closed in…
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…But the Padawan persisted ramming his light saber into the soft skulls of the horde!
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“There is no death…” S’ven strained once again,
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“…There is the Force!”
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Then they swarmed over S’ven like a cold blanket.
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Then there was death.
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The Force was absent.
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The weak die…
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The strong survive…
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…and yet a part of the survivor dies in order to live.
“Goodbye, S’ven.”
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TO BE CONTINUED……………
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