lucetilogs | Zompania Draft: Coming Home

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Zompania Draft: Coming Home

Who: Anyone drafted to Zompania, or recruited as reinforcements, or left behind in the village. SO. Everybody!
What: The draftees and reinforcements return to the village.
When: May 26, early early in the morning
Where: Back in Luceti
Summary: Most draftees and reinforcements return to Luceti in the very early hours; now, instead of a medevac site for the draft, the village is a welcome (?) refuge from the nightmare of Zompania for its own. There's a high likelihood it still looks a lot like it has in the past few days; those in the fight didn't even get a chance to shower before returning.

(This is the place for all your post-draft trauma and reunions and every other thing. Have fun! And don't forget to entry-tag your character.)

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"I'll go with you." she was strong enough to help - even if she wasn't an experienced healer or medic, "I won't leave you alone."

She wished she had gone with him. She could have fought and maybe helped deter some of the attackers. But that hadn't been in the cards.

"Your leg..." her brow furrowed and she slowed her steps to accommodate him, "I know you are a great Jedi, but you will always be my son."

He was a symbol of all that was good to her. She was so proud of him that sometimes she forgot he was merely a human. This was one of the few moments that she was reminded of his humanity. With that reminder came her urge to protect him.

What mother could feel any different?

"Alright. I know another pair of able hands would be appreciated." He'll gladly accept that. And he'll gladly let her mother him a bit. He could use it, after the last few days. "And my leg will be fine. It's just a cut. Nothing serious. I just need to get it bandaged, that's all."

Still walking slowly, Luke turns to look back at the others as they walk away. So many lost, so many dead. Such...senseless...violence.

"...I'm glad you didn't come with us," he said, almost as if he's sensing her thoughts. "The Third Party...the enemy...they were relentless. I...haven't ever seen so many dead before. Three...four enclosures worth, all sacrificed at once."

"I'm sure. From what I've seen, it's remarkable we didn't lose more people." that thought nagged at the back of her mind and she felt her throat tighten again, "That many...?"

Seeing death in any shape or form was always dark and terrible. Padmé had watched dear friends fall and she had even experienced that great release herself. The pain; the fear and the ensuing darkness were like nothing she could ever put into words.

"They'll be revived...won't they?" her voice was barely stable as she pushed open the door to their home, "I would have been there with you. I regret that you faced it at all. But I would have rather been by your side. And Obi-Wan's."

The question deserved an answer, but it wouldn't come. Luke stood there in the door, frozen. Feelings of dread threatened to overwhelm him, a great dark sea swallowing his thoughts as he answered.

"Obi-Wan will be back. The...people from Vaskoth, Pagoda, Zompania...they won't. They won't be going home. Ever."

She felt chilled from head to toe. The medical kit in her hands suddenly felt too heavy and she set it on a table. Then with a quick turn, she hurried back to him and pulled him close.

"But you made it...and Obi-Wan will join us soon. We will mourn for them in time. Not today. Not while everyone heals." allowing the sick to mourn would only make them sicker. She didn't want his spirit or anyone else's breaking.

Those who were responsible for the death and violence shouldn't be given the pleasure.

"You...should hear this first." Luke reached for her, put a hand on her shoulder. His voice quavered a bit, worry creasing his forehead.

"If you're ever captured by the enemy. On a draft, on a mission, anywhere...don't let them take you alive. If you have to...you...know how to overload a blaster I'm sure." It's a chilling warning, but he's not sure she knows just what he meant by 'Sacrifice' so he continues. "The Third Party has a way to...offer...their captives up to...something. A ritual sacrifice If that happens, it's the end. The very end. And...that isn't all."

He moved away, running his hand along the table, looking at his fingers as they played along the wood.

"They developed a bomb. Like...the one I told you about before. Only...this one was used on the initial draftees. A rogue Malnosso, John...you might have heard of him, used a shift to save everyone there and give them a chance to stop the bomb. But they could...possibly...have another one. It...there are people I need to talk to, but from what Law said it seemed to be different from the one I've seen schematics for."

He clenched his fist, suddenly very, very angry.

"All those people...those sacrifices...were used to power their new weapon. Some sort of soul-bomb."

Silence followed his explanation and she moved to a chair, lowering herself onto the seat. He was asking her to commit suicide if she was caught? How could she do that? There was a certain amount of pride that she retained; that she had to retain. The idea of purposefully seeking her death didn't set well with her and, if anyone else had told her about the bomb, she would have taken it a little less seriously.

But this was Luke. He had been open and truthful with her since she had arrived. On top of that, he was her only son. That basically canceled out what small pride she had kept for herself.

"Should I..." she swallowed awkwardly, "...overload the Blaster..." and die, "Would I return to the village? Or would I disappear?"

Was the point to keep her from suffering; to keep her from fulfilling some greater, horrible plan?

"Luke, I've never given up." it wasn't in her nature, "How does a soul-bomb work? Are they planning to use it on the entire village?"

Ultimate destruction and death.

Luke walked over and slumped down onto the couch and looked at her, eyes more serious than they'd been yet.

"If you did that, you'd return here. The same as Obi-Wan will. The...ritual...apparently is very specific, and requires the presence of a Shaman, from what we know. I don't know much more than that, it's all secondhand knowledge from people I trust. If you die in battle, fighting, you'll return to life a week later. If you die by...an overload..." easier to say than suicide, "then you'll return here. If you're captured...and sacrificed..."

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"And as for the bomb? I don't know how it works. I need to talk to some people who saw the schematics, but from what I saw of the one the Malnosso have, it's similar to a primitive thermonuclear bomb. Like...a proton torpedo...that relies on radioactive isotopes for the catalyst and is enhanced by Shifts. Only, the Third Party seems to be using Dark energy instead. It's some sort of magic, for lack of a better word and I've got a list of people to talk to who saw the inner workings."

Another pause...this time to take a deep breath, "If they have the chance to use it on us, they will. But the barrier is supposed to protect us from that, or at least give us a fighting chance. And I have a feeling that the energy they need will make it a prohibitively costly weapon. I don't know if that's true, but if I were to make an educated guess, I'd be inclined to say that it is or they'd have used it on Luceti or the Malnosso's main strongholds already."

So that was how it had to be. She closed her eyes tightly and inhaled deeply, slowly allowing the concept to take shape in her mind. In order to return to the living, she had to kill herself. When she opened her eyes, she touched his cheek soothingly, her expression intense.

"I want to return here; to you." any death was worth that, "Don't say anymore, I understand."

Her hand dropped down to hold one of his hands. She was steady and unafraid. Death wasn't new to her and if her next death meant she could stay with Luke, so be it.

"They likely store the bomb out of our reach, so disarming it is out of the question." but the barrier. Maybe the answer was there.

"Who crafted the barrier? Can we strengthen it?" her brow furrowed and she rose before kneeling down in front of him. Soon his leg wound was being attended to.

"I'm not comfortable with our only protection being out of our control." she disinfected the cut, applied cream to it and wrapped clean cloth around it, "I will do some research too."

"That," Luke said with a wince as she began to work, "Is unfortunately something we won't be able to change. The barrier is stronger now than it was. Remember, I mentioned an invasion shortly before you arrived. I'm not sure there's anything that we can do just yet. But...perhaps the Commandant and the rest of the Malnosso will give us more information soon. Or John. Regardless it's not something to talk about on the journals. The Malnosso may not like us organizing like that."

With a tired smile, he leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling.

"For now, it's best to just keep our ears open and wait for Obi-Wan. He'll...be missing something. People who return from the dead always are. A sense, or an emotion. It's different every time. But he'll need our support."

"True, but what's wrong with simple curiosity?" there was an almost mischievous light in her eyes as she tied the bandage in place, "I have no desire to organize anyone."

She was a public figure, of course, but she also knew how to be subtle when the situation called for it. And, in this situation in particular, their lives were at stake. Padmé was prepared to use every technique of subterfuge she knew.

"We'll help him regain it." as she rose, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead, "Get some rest. I'll head down to the clinic in your place. You can join later."

Luke chuckled softly and shook his head. He know what she was up to, and he wasn't going to stop it. She knew how to be discreet, that was for certain.

"I'm just taking a shower. I'll meet you at the clinic a little later. I can't...not help. I'm needed, and that's all there is to it," he admonished her gently before giving her a quick hug and stepping towards the bathroom.

"I'll see you soon. Thank you, Mother."

She understood his need to aid others; it was instinctive and nagging. Padmé had often felt that urge where her people were concerned. Even when she was pregnant, she had made it to every Senatorial session - only to watch everything she had worked for crumble.

It was a good thing she wasn't good at giving up. She had been given a second chance in the village and she was going to take it.

"You needn't thank me." she murmured, smiling faintly as she gathered some supplies that might be useful in the clinic.

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Zompania Draft: Coming Home

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