Star Wars Knights of the Last Republic ? Twilight of the Gods

OOC: Combined post from Sinre and I.

IC: Lord Sallacine
Senate Chambers, Coruscant

In the darkest chasms of Sallacine's subconscious, he knew that he was elsewhere... that is, his body. The periodic shocks he instinctively knew to be defibrillator shocks confirmed that. Yet the spectral darkness tugging on his hand, screaming with many voices, a soothing, tempting whisper at the same time... Subjectively, it was real. Very real. And terrifying.

And in this strange place where the entire galaxy was arrayed before him like a crown of sparkling stars, he admired the darkness. It was power. Somehow, he found himself gravitating away from that beautiful angel, and towards the void... towards the voice.

And in that moment he decided that the last of those shocks that had coursed through him... or rather, his body... had been the last of those shocks - he concluded he was gone, his body was elsewhere but he was not inhabiting it... He concluded he was dead.

And the darkness was where he belonged. A demon? Perhaps I should ask.

"What are you?" he said as he drifted closer into the maw of the void...

The shadow narrowed its yellow-eyes, which suddenly glowed out from beneath its cowl.

"My name is Samhain, shadowed one." It would be an unfamilar name to Sallacine, one which he never encountered in his histories, or his tales, or his research into the Sith and Jedi artifacts in his possession. It had a Durese tinge to it, and that was about all it would mean to him.

The angel's arm elongated, unnaturally, looping around Sallacine's arm. Her lips open wide, and speak.

Over the Teravi Mountains,

Meets an Wampa with human speech.

The Wampa asks,

"What clings to you?

Bear it?you cannot.

Accept it?you cannot.

But hidden?it is from you.

Recite its name."

The darkness growled, and the angel looked back, shielding her face with her free hand as a tendril of darkness elongated into a spear, and stabbed through her eye-socket. The hand curled, beckoning, offering.

Sallacine pushed aside the primal fear that naturally engulfed him, pushed aside all that uncertainty and confusion regarding where he was and if he was alive or not, and what this shadow was. He recoiled from the angel's touch, strangely smiling as the shadow stabbed her, and Sallacine found he could float forward, his own hand, not tainted by the blood he was sure covered his body's hand, reaching forward in response to Samhain's beckoning.

And he grasped the wispy hand of shadow that Samhain offered. "So, Samhain," he said, taking a rather pragmatic approach to the whole situation. "I suppose I am dead, yes? And this is the afterlife... I know your name, but not your purpose, or what you truly are... and why you call me 'shadowed one,' for I am Lord Sallacine of Delta. What do you want with me?"

Sallacine decided if he was dead, best to act as he would if alive - ascertain the situation, and suss out any subtle intricacies that would otherwise remain hidden from him. With information as an ally... well, it was always handy to have information as an ally. He briefly contemplated pouring out a thousand questions regarding the purpose of life, if there were gods, and so on and so forth, but then again, he wasn't really sure he was dead... So he awaited the shadow's response.

TAG: Sinrebirth

 

Brenn?ar the Traitor
Depths of the Yuuzhan Vong Sector, Nar Shaddaa. . .Then Somewhere

First it was someone spouting nonsense, the threat of being watched in a way that might indicate that the one he had killed truly might of been a dupe for someone higher that simply kept those lower in knowledge of what was really going on. All very possible possibilities.

The fact that he now had very loyal human male that thought he was female, something he would have to clarify if this turned into more of a long term supplication ordained by the Yun?o. As was he was looking forward to leaving what apparently was insanity and intrigue behind as soon as his work was done.

Little one, talk about the insane trying to insult, still her words rang with what might have been the old old ways of looking at this galaxy. Poor demented creature, he wondered if she would even still make a good sacrifice or if she was too far gone.

Then. . .all went sideways for a moment as his guts seemed to roil in the spaces between his eyes. Very disconcerting when one considers that he had never had grafted digestive organs behind nor between his eyes.

Now, where was he? Was he still? Yes, he was still guised in his ooglith as a female Duros. The aroma of smoke and sulfur tingled at his senses as he remember volcanic worlds and charred experiments done for the Sith. Yes, the memories were many and varied as the ways of dying in methods combined can be wilst involving shapers without a conscious for their subjects.

Taking a deep breath he arose with the seven that yet surrounded about him, to look upon the eighth that sat before them, behind the fire that brought such recollections of times now hid behind. The rocky ledge over the lava a simple reminder of death and survival. Tragedy and salvation both uttered in the same dying breaths. Boredom would liable overtaken him with the surroundings but for that eighth member that sat resplendent as though Yun-Ne?Shel had deigned to grace an infidel race with her grace.

A simple gesture and the words of questing if his mind bore truth from this was quelled as lips stretched and would no longer part. So instead he stood still and listened, watching and learning with ear and eye.

Each of them, as this beauty that spoke of the gods and an enemy that yet made them tremble had come to passing, and they chosen to change the tide of a war spiritually tied to their mortal realm. All as though Yun-Yuuzhan had grafted a way not only for his children to succeed to follow him above being gods, but had created a test worthy of himself in that it was do or die even for a god. So they were chosen and anointed with names to be that which would assure survival if not ascension, and if ascension then possibilities were numerous as legends told.

Then he was named, Traitor. With that name he lost himself to find it all, and then to lose it all again as the paths of lives from life to death and more again he saw and lost upon that timeless moment of almost knowing, but cursed to never remember. Cursed to once more walk the mortal plane as all before, with the past an unraveling mystery and the futures only promise death, with the presents solace of pain where one can find it.

Following her instruction he gazed for to keep himself from weeping upon what the parting smoke revealed. The seat of power in this twice cursed time of his life was shown in ruin, and it was a balm to his soul to see such a sight as that site. His tears dried in forming by the beauty.

A last order she gave and a name, Samaelia. One he would remember until his end and beyond. No matter the mind searing and cleansing pain that it might bring, for this moment would not be replaced. No, her scream had sealed it.

Bowing his head to the departed he turned to the seven, ?Traitor I am for I have killed he who saved me to prevent him enslaving me.? Such is my life, he thought to himself. Still he had no regrets or wallowing for his life, it was as it was, just as

 

IC: Semaj the Pariah
Sturges and then Somewhere

A 2PM STANDARD TIME APPOINTMENT HAS BEEN ADDED TO OUR CALENDAR, WATCHMAN CALAL. I AM INVESTIGATING THE ENTRY, HOWEVER IT SEEMS AS IF THE NETWORK HAS BEEN COMPROMISED ? THE DATA SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN REMOVED AT AN EARLIER DATE, AND RESTORED MOMENTS AGO. THE ENTRY HAS AN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT RESPONSE, WHICH I CANNOT ACCESS. IT WAS MADE AT HEADQUARTERS FROM YOUR MESSAGE ACCOUNT, WATCHMAN CALAL ? I WILL NEED TO BE AT A POLICE DATAPORT TO SLICE IT.

R19?s words that scrolled before his eyes told the horrifying truth, someone had set him up as he had suspected. Focusing on what had all transpired, Semaj tried to piece together what his next move should be. Luckily he had spent his first two weeks on Sturges memorizing the city streets, now he would be able to draw a perfect map, to scale, in his sleep. Unfortunately it also meant that he was not being mindful of the Living Force and ran right into an ambush. The local police laid in wait with their AT-CE powered down, now it had blazed to life and had his droid partner ensnared.

Semaj reached for his lightsaber as the riot suppressor turned its focus to him. But instead of being hit with a stream of water, a wave of dark-side energy crushed over him and knocked him out.

As the wanted Jedi came to the first thing he noticed was not his physical surroundings, but what it felt like in the Force. It was? dead, but not death. Nor was it empty, like the Vong that was standing with him and six others. Another one among them, he figured by the armor, was a Mandalorian. Semaj?s eyes then fell on arguably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had piercing eyes like two emerald gemstones and a flawless complexion that was framed by flowing crimson lochs. But as their eyes met a shiver ran down his spine, she was cloaked in the darkside of the Force. Why did she, of all people, have to be a Sith?

Suddenly their striking hostess, Samaelia, stood and addressed the group as a whole. She spoke caused him to have even more questions then what he had had before on Sturges. Who were the Shining Ones? The Blue Ones? The Metal Ones? The gods? The Shadow? The shadowless ones? What or who was the Twilight Dragon? She then walked amongst them and issued them titles. The Vong was the Traitor. The Mandalorian was the Messiah. The beautiful Sith was dubbed the Lair. Semaj was given the horrific honorarium of THE PARIAH. Fitting, seeing as I am now going to be hunted across the stars for defending myself.

Samaelia?s last instructions before vanishing with a scream was to find each other for each had a gift that could save the galaxy. She then told everyone that they had mere seconds to speak to one another. Semaj did not waste one tick of the chronometer and walked straight over to the redheaded Sith. He addressed her before she had a chance to protest, ?Listen we don?t have much time,? he spoke barely above the level of a whisper, ?and for some reason I feel that I can trust you the most out of this whole lot. My name is Semaj Calal, I am the Watchman of Sturges, and I am wanted for breaking the Truce between the Watches. Before I was swept away to here, my droid and I were ambushed by the local police. As you can see I am in dire straits and greatly in need of some assistance.?

He flashed her a smile and waited to hear the sound of her voice.

TAG: Trimaj and the others

 

IC: Sallacine the Prophet
Senate Chamber, Coruscant, then the dark world

Never had Sallacine been on such a rollercoaster ride of varying emotions! A vague curiosity mingled with fear of the unknown pervaded his consciousness as he glimpsed the demonic visage of Samhain, to be replaced by relief when he woke in the Senate Chamber, to turn into full fledged terror as a snake-like tendril descended and suddenly he was in a hellish landscape.

Sallacine's fear morphed into what felt like a burning dragon ready to burst from his chest! And that dragon took flight, for Sallacine's mouth formed a round O and he screamed. Never would have such a piercing cry been released from his lips if he had any intention to maintain a masculine image in front of the cameras, but there were no press droids here, and all he knew was that fright engulfed him in a tide of prickles and discomfort.

He could have sworn the sting of sulfur on skin exposed to hot air thanks to his tattered robes only added to his discomfort.

He wailed; tears welled in his eyes but he blamed that on the heat, not on the fright that suddenly made his legs wobble. As a mysterious woman began to speak, he did nothing but raise a ruckus so loud that a part of his subconscious felt that perhaps the others could not hear her; "Help me! I'm in Hell! The nine Corellian hells are real! Help! Oh Force, help me!" Never had the Lord of Delta been reduced to such a pitiful state than right there, as he ran a hand across his eyes and prayed to every deity he knew of. When that failed, he tried concentrating hard on floating in the air away from this place; perhaps, he supposed, the Force was available for use for everyone, including non-Jedi and Sith like him, in the afterlife realms? Nothing happened, of course, and Sallacine was left shaking and sobbing.

And then the woman came over to him, and anointed him "The Prophet." A spark of Sallacine's old pride, forgotten as soon as he had landed in the strange place, flared up inside of him. He had no time to ponder what the title of The Prophet might mean for him, as Samaelia seemed to whisper the very fabric of reality into his mind; suddenly, he knew his purpose, knew his destinty, knew all that must happen in life.

The secret knowledge washed away soon after, but new found confidence, a sense of control and understanding of what he had to do, lingered, and suddenly Sallacine, the fearless, proud nobleman, was back. And with his old self came a rush of memory; even while he had been screaming like a young Twi'lek girl, he had been listening to Samaelia's words, and he suddenly realized that he had heard some of them before.

And just as he came to that realization, the strange woman - Samaelia, she said her name was - had finished dishing out titles to the others who, like Sallacine it seemed, had just appeared in the dark world seconds ago. Sallacine recognized one of the faces; Senator Verin, the Zeltron hothead. He was not an acquaintance of the Senator, but he had seen him deliver impassioned speeches, if he recalled correctly.

Quick to seek out a familiar face, Sallacine quickly walked over to where Verin, dubbed The Victim was standing, and along the way he was astonished to discover he recognized a second face - the Sith, who Samaelia had called The Liar! The Liar had appeared in his vision mere seconds before, as an angelic being in space, who stood between him and the demon Samhain!

Sallacine stopped in his tracks, and spoke to Verin. "Listen, I know who you are and I'm sure you know who I am," his words rushed out in a tumble. "Something's going on! I was on Coruscant mere seconds ago, and I'm sure you were either there or at Yavin, right?" he made an educated guess. "But then a madman rushed me, and he had an explosive; I was knocked unconscious in the explosion in the Senate Chamber! But that's not important. What's important is what he said! He said the Shadow was coming, and I was going to help the Shadow,

 

IC: Senator Kal Verin, The Victim
Dark World then back to Iridonia

"I agree m'lord. I will meet up with you as soon as I can once we leave this plane of, existence? Is that what we can even call this? Or is it simply some twisted reminder of what we could yet face?" Verin replied to Sallacine once he'd finished speaking.

"As for myself I had left Yavin immediately after the use of the Lightsaber Project, I saw something irregular and left for Iridonia to find out what it was. I'm hoping at some point to discover what it was, and also figure out what the bloody hell a handful of Mandalorians guards were doing following me there. It would appear as though someone or something seeks to keep the galaxy in the dark as to what this project is truly doing." He added, his tone serious, perhaps more so than a Zeltron's should be, but the events of the last few hours had left him very unsure of what he was dealing with. The sheer tempest of emotions around him left him unable to express any, a dam had formed forcing him to become a veritable blimp of pent up emotion.

"Needless to say I will be heading directly to the Capitol after this, I think we all have something to discuss, after we meet there though I suggest a more secure location for our conclave, one beyond the prying eyes of those we serve, what we have just experienced is unique to us, and clearly something the greater populous is blissfully unaware of. We must figure out just what it is we are expected to do, and I think I know where we can go for solitude." Verin added pensively. "I will see you soon Lord Sallacine, expect to see the Victim soon."

TAG: Others in dark world

EDIT: GM edit - nobody can wake up yet.

 

Pest the Leader
Dreamland

The Leader. The woman had kissed him and announced him to be a leader. yet he did not feel like leading right now. And certainl not this bunch of people. Actually he did not really feel like trustung them. The Pariah? The Liar? The Traitor? The traitor was the first to speak and had an obvious explanation for his name. Yeah. Sure. Not that anybody could ever have the idea he would betray them, right?

Then the Politicians began to discuss meeting points. And Nar Shadaa and Coruscant were kicked around. A heartwarming story about Project Lightsaber was thrown into the mix. It all spiraled into something as organized as a hive of bees when it began to rain.

He coughed out loud. "Excuse me Gentlemen." He said and stepped forth. "My name is Admirsl Pest. Some of you might know me, some by meeting me briefly, others by reputation. Like I know some of you." He looked at the Jedi. The hunted murderer. Well, even an Admiral made nothing out of it, when a man who could move from one plane of existence to another was murdering a Sith.

"There are two possibilities here. I dream. Or you´re real. either oone means the same. Three things we know for certain. We are object of something like a greater power. We cannot trust it. We cannot trust each other." Pest looked around. Hopefully they got what he meant. Strangers. They were strangers to each other. "So, let us try to work on the latter one first. We need to meet, agreed. Nar Shadaa or Coruscant are terrible places though. They are both to crowded and we can assume all of this is necessary because we face some kind of danger." Pest sighed again. "If you give me your locatiosn I will make sure you are all picked up and brought to my flagship. There we are save, undisturbed and guarded by my loyal crew." Again he looked around. "Agreed?"

Tag: EverybodyTag: Everybody

 

OOC: Eh, it's a mysterious dark realm; even with a helmet you could always just "know" in some mysterious way

Zayden the Messiah
Mysterious Dark Realm

Though a warrior, Zayden was just that: a simple warrior. Despite the complexity of wars and the constant shift of battle, there was nothing complex about fighting itself. People, with blaster, sword, or warship, tried to kill on another and the fight ended when one was dead and the other was still on his feet. Whenever Zayden found himself in a battle, he knew what enemies had to be killed and would go in that direction and kill anyone he found that was classified as an enemy. He had just been doing that in Teravi; the Tofs were the enemy and, upon stepping into a tower full of them, he had cut them in half as soon as one stepped into his path. But now...

Now it just got weird.

The Force was the only thing that would give Zayden pause but even then he could simplify the uses of it. It made a Force-user jump higher, hit harder, use a lightsaber as a sword or a shield, and gave him access to weapons that were mystical but as limited and destructive as any normal weapon whether they attacked with lightning or an invisible push. It was an avenue of weapons that Zayden didn't have access to but they were weapons and the user was as much flesh and blood as the Mandalorian was.

This...this was just unexplainable with how the Mandalorian had been blasting away with his shotgun, mowing down whatever Tofs dared to stand up against him, only to have everything go dark and having him appear in what seemed like a completely difficult realm with a few other individuals. The idea of getting to a medical ship as soon as the battle was over came to the Mandalorian's mind; this was the second time that he had gotten lost in some hallucination with the first one having only occurred what had to be ten minutes ago (or less as combat had a funny effect on the passing of time where one minute felt like one hour). Despite how lost the others seemed to be, Zayden wished he had one of his weapons on him but as soon as he reached for his beskad or his blaster, he found nothing waiting for him. Not exactly a comforting revelation...especially with what happened next.

?Oh, I am so sorry. I know what you are... the Messiah.?

Though Zayden's brows had risen in question at this apparent declaration, he once again desired the comforting weight of a weapon as the mysterious woman got close. While she seemed to be harmless, and she seemed to even be distressed when it came to him, some of the others she had approached was with threatening gestures such as with the one red-haired woman and the man she dubbed as The Pariah. But he couldn't move or even speak; the strength he had always prided himself seeming to be useless in whatever grip this witch - for certainly she couldn't be anything else - had on him. Fortunately, this hold didn't seem to last as, with some parting words, the woman vanished, leaving the group alone and able to move.

It was only then that Zayden allowed himself to examine the rest. He didn't recognize any of them except for one.

"And when I wake up, I'm gonna grab my girl, fly away in my starship and get myself filthy rich. I'm up for a big payday and none of this...doomsday talk...is gonna stop me from getting it."

When the man tried to push past them, Zayden instead stepped directly in his path, his armored form towering over the much smaller man. Lowering his head so that his T-shaped visor was staring directly down at him, the Mandalorian paused as he debated on what to say. What the woman had spoken - shadowless ones, shining ones, whatever ones - meant very little to Zayden but her instruction to find each other had bugged him. As much as he was willing to let this dream pass by so that he could get back to Teravi and probably forget all that occurred, for now he seemed as if he was just going to humor this hallucination. And

 

IC: Loriana Vendra the Liar, aka Lady Agape
Jabiim system, Jabiim, Old Town, Crumbling Defense Tower

A smile. An honest to goodness, real smile played across Centi's face. And it was directed at her. It made Loriana rather uneasy considering exactly how much he hated her guts. She smiled back.

Spotting something that was going to put a severe damper on their budding relationship, Loriana pointed at someone with a wrist-rocket gauntlet and Force shoved towards him yelling, "CENTI!" He was already on it, pivoting on one foot and jerking down a section of the roof to put between them. It didn't precisely save either one of them, or anyone on the other side.

BOOM!

A shockwave grabbed both and threw them back out of the hole that Loriana had created with the errant starfighter. While rolling on several axis' Loriana manged to spot Centi being thrown to safety onto the roofs. Jealous, she bounced off of the building, near the top, but still not far enough up to be safe. Grunting, she didn't anticipate waking up at all after this as Loriana saw the explosion of the thermal detonators as she fell towards them. Well, this could certainly have gone better. Turning her body into a soft sphere so that at least the ground wouldn't do that much damage.

And everything went black...

Sulfur filled her nose, and Loriana would have scrunched up her face, had she any motor control. A groan emerged and her mouth was filled with the taste of sulfur which made her gag. Note to self, do not open mouth. Opening her eyes everything was a blur, and Loriana realized that she wasn't laying on the ground, but standing frozen and no longer in blob form. This definitely could have gone better. Cross was a good word for her frame of mind as her vision cleared. She wished it hadn't.

Desolation was everywhere and her eyes widened. Nothing there was a natural formation, it the lines were too straight. Something had happened to destroy whatever world this was, and it had been a thorough job of it.

Looking to the side, merely moving her eyes irritatingly, she noticed that she wasn't the only one here. There was the Zeltron that she had seen in the Gen'dai's memory, which seemed a bit odd when she thought about it. There was also a Duros that... was weird in the Force, but she didn't really have the time to consider that as something else took over her immediate attention.

A woman was dressed all in white with flowing green hair sitting in front of a fire. Not many beings traditionally had green hair. There was something of an ethereal quality about her that was somewhat off putting. She seems awful strange for a captor. But then not everyone who is powerful is powerful looking. Then her mouth sealed itself against her will. She tried to recreate it, and found that she still couldn't control herself. She was a bit beyond cross a this point. Then she spoke.

She said something about balance being broken and that those present were the only ones who could fix it. How? We don't even know each other! But apparently that wasn't important. Whoever the green haired woman was winced, and everything froze for a second which made Loriana's eyes widen. What is she? Then there was something about the Shadow and shadowless ones, and how they needed to find the Twilight Dragon. It was all very confusing.

Then the woman started naming everyone. Well, titling might be more accurate. The Prophet was for the stuffy looking nobleman that Loriana didn't think she would trust a word that came out of his mouth. There was just something she didn't like about him for some reason.

Suddenly she was nibbling on the Zeltron's ear and calling him the Victim. Given what she knew about the Gen'dais master involving him, that seemed increasingly likely. In a way she pitied him.

Next she went to a human man that looked a bit worse for wear and anointed him with what looked like his own blood, calling him the Honest. Not the most expected title for any of them to be gi

 

Pest the Leader
Dreamland

He watched the others getting deeper into their lines of thought. He considered they had to be real in one way or another, as he would not invent such a bunch of lost souls. His dreams had a tendency to deal with . . . nevermind.

"Well, you guys really need to decide, if you think we´re a dream or if you decide not to trust us. Except you are afraid of your dreams you cann tell us pretty much whatever you want. We will be gone as soon as you wake up, hm?" Pest shook his head. "Anyway, as we have now decided through our rather crude idea of basic democracy that we won´t trust each other or reveal our locations . . . I´d say I will send people to pick up those who revealed me where they are and wish the rest of you luck." He nodded and yawned. Could he be tired in a dream? Probably.

Why not?

"Especially you, Jedi. I can give you that little insider information that the whole Republic has been alarmed about your crimes." He shot towards the Jedi and then looked at the woman with red hair, the politicians, he assumed that was what they were and finally to the Mandalorian. Liars, traitors, messiahs and an honest guy. A leader. The titles indicated a connection. But he actually sympathisez with the idea of not meeting up. The names really gave no indication they would be on the same side. Liars and traitors usually weren´t. Then again to betray me he needs to find me. To learn something of value that he can betray to some kind of enemy. And not meeting the traitor had basically made that part ipossible. Except he betrayed something bigger. Or someone else.

"Has anybody realized that while some names could be held universally true . . . some rely heavy on perspective? A traitor or a messiah or even a leader is usually not considered to what he is by everybody. But only by his own people. I wonder from whose point of view these prophecies were made." he wondered out loud. It was hopeless though. Real or not, these guy had not more of a clue than he himself.

Nothing left to do than await waking up.

He turned his back on the crowd and wandered a bit into the dream. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to make out a few more details. If he assumed this was the real deal, he was probably in a very real place.

Tag: Sinre, others

 

Semaj the Pariah
Where abouts unknown

"Especially you, Jedi. I can give you that little insider information that the whole Republic has been alarmed about your crimes." He shot towards the Jedi.

"That is correct, Leader. I am being hunted, but I am no criminal. I have been set up and I have a feeling that whoever is after me is going to be after all of us. This is no dream I can insure you all of this. It is the will of the Force that we have been brought together here. We need to find each other as we have been instructed."

Why am I even wasting my breath? This lot isn't going to listen to a hunted Jedi Watchman, even if I am correct and we are all being set up.

"Right, so I am currently on Sturges. Come and get me!"

TAG: Everyone and Sinre

 

IC: Loriana Vendra the Liar, aka Lady Agape
A future Coruscant

Considering ignoring them for the rest time they were here, Pest kept talking. So did the Jedi Pariah. Loriana tilted her head slightly and looked straight at Pest, who acording to the Jedi had been named Leader. "I hardly think you are all dreams. I'm fairly convinced you aren't, but I do not believe that you are real. I believe you are an illusion of the sort I myself have created throughout my life. They have been very useful, in my personal experience, for gathering information from people who don't want to give it to you. However, since I am reasonably certain I won't be long for this plane of existence when I wake up I'll tell you where I am. Jabiim. Goodluck finding my corpse since I was falling into thermal detonators." Crossing her arms she turned away from the rest and stared at a wasteland that held echoes of a world she knew.

TAG: ALL, SINRE

 

IC: Brenn?ar Sha the Traitor
Somewhen of Coruscantee Nights

He looked and listened. One and all we eight must not fall but rise to our occasions, ascend a new and so in ascending ascend. That is what we are and what we must do as the chosen blend of races and creeds, perhaps even this is the reason why we were made to fall so long ago, alone we did carry the seeds to rise the whole but only part.

The Jedi leapt unto the sith, as yet a war fresh unto his own mind had not borne to pass with the simplicity of a child. That was the lure of Jedi, all like children or as near death and so this one marked the Pariah was showing the cunning of it?s fangs. Perhaps a stepping stone for Yun-Yammka was that one, a Pariah of children turned to rise and raise with the Sith. A Sith whom was born out as the Liar, adults and teenagers were the mix of her lot, and so with that was consecrated the stepping stone of Yun-Harla. Brother and Sister conspiring together with whispers, it made his heart feel glad to see such a sight whilst he yet lived.

The Prophet strode with purpose beyond words to the Victim, as every prophet has such a need so this one sought his out by title. By his avoidance but yet his loudness of voice he was heard and drew his sight. But yet he spoke unto the Liar as well, perhaps by this cleaving of one near unto the other the Prophet yet showed his chosen as his own Yun-Ne?Shel. Whether further traits would yet be born out he would let time tell.

The Victim spoke as one entwined upon an idea and so a path. Like Yun-Q?aah he seemed, so intent upon a thing that yet in gaining it he would be consumed after a fashion by it. Yes, a lover in body this truly did attain and so in gaining found the loss that the gaining was in likely to give in kind to make his name the Victim. Like a moth drawn to light so the Victim to the miseries of Yun-Ne?Shel when crossed with Yun-Harla.

The Leader spoke as one so ordained and bid all to be gathered up to him, a symbol of Yun-Yuuzhan if ever there were to be depicted within a scattering of moments. Of this one he would bend his head in acknowledgement. ?Where Corellians and Yuuzhan-Vong meet search for Ovan the human and he will guide whomever you send.? With that he resumed his inner dialogue of those present, picking and piecing of whom each was a representative.

The Honest railed against the possibilities. Yun-Txiin he felt was there, though womanly the man was or was not was for another?s more inclined discerning. Enraptured by a dream if not of love but of things, bound this one was and so in binding he would not be surprised if he was the anchor that would sink the Victim to his depths by their conflicting desires.

Yet this one caught the sight of the Messiah, how oddly yet that one possessed himself. By name he would associate with Yun-Shuno, by form Yun-Yammka, as one was taken and the other free he marked him by his name. Perhaps the Yun of the lowest caste had decided for himself a more commanding successor to perform more for those entrusted by the wills of the Yun?o. Such philosophizing was for other quarters and times.

So they were marked and he the Traitor, to Yun-Ganner or Yun-Lingni he felt himself bound, and so as no will to stop the tides yet bore him he submitted to the plausibility that was given up to Yun-Lingni the low but feared. So was the passing of tides lest he misjudged himself and the Messiah their posts. He bowed once more the second uttering?s of the Leader. So a second calling was uttered and to it he answered.

?Leader, perhaps by those higher than our own?? That was truth and place of trust that he yet placed himself. He was but a pawn until elevated, and even then who knew the Yun?o of the Yun?o? So it was, so it be.

TAG: Fins, Others

 

OOC: terribly evil of you sinre, moving us around like that.

IC: Loriana Vendra the Liar, aka Lady Agape
Somewhere

Waiting for everything to go back to normal life apparently decided to have a sense of humor as a deep ultra masculine voice started chuckling. Yep, this is all an illusion. I think i could probably have done something like this if given enough time. Then hell broke loose, but Loriana didn't really care not believing any of it to be real. Fire spurted up and some of her illusory companions were separated from the others, and the voice spoke. "Yes, right where you put me stupid." She didn't expect any kind of response, but what of it? Sometimes defiance itself was the important thing.

Samaelia came back, telling the voice it couldn't interfere and Loriana almost laughed. This was all just too good. After a bit of a back and forth, the black voice saying it didn't care about the balance and it was going to bring about the end of everything and Samaelia saying they all had to go back now, light bursting from her palm. Lady Agape rolled her eyes, tired of the insistence that the world was going to end.

Purple streams poisoned the brilliant white light, and Samaelia was on her knee, losing control of when they were going to wake up. The voice said that was the point, Samaelia attempted to resist and essentially failed. White and Black mixed together, swirling where they met and Samealia demanded to know who the voice was. Samhain, the name that the noble Prophet had told her, and the others, about. Then Loriana was hit with a mixture of White and Black and the world ended.

Cold. Cold permeated every inch of her, and she realized she was shivering. Strange since I should have burned to death. She didn't open her eyes, instead listening to what was going on around her, which included a lot of agonized screams, the sound of a metal staff was tapping on stone and boots clicked on the same as they walked past. The Dark Side also permeated her and she knew the Sith had found her. I'd almost rather be in hell. The smell was also far from pleasant with the stench of infected flesh, filled bedpans and other things she didn't want to think about choking the oxygen from the air. Then again, maybe I already am.

Trying to move her arm she groaned, and her thirst and hunger slammed into her like a tidal wave. Wincing, she also realized she was naked and a very deep voice she needed to wake up and that she wasn't in any danger: that the screams were other patients. She shuddered on top of her shivering, considering what some people would call being a patient. It was an unpleasant image that ran through her mind, of a "doctor" she had once had to bust because no one in the republic could track the guy down and a Jedi had already died. Her Sith masters had hoped she would reach the same fate, but like the mission on Jabiim she had disappointed them. Loriana still saw his lab and operating room in her nightmares.

Opening her eyes and immediately closed them again seeing nothing but blinding light. Blinking several times, vision finally returning, she looked around, noting several of her belongings not in the midst of the others, and that she was completely naked. She had been too cold to really be able to tell. So that's how it is. An interrogation technique she knew far too well. It didn't really matter to her all that much as she could have formed some clothes if she really wanted to. Instead she lay there, trying to stop shivering and wanting some for of sustenance.

Speaking again, the dark figure at her side told her she wasn't on Jabiim anymore. No dip Sherlock. Gonna tell me I'm laying on cold stone too? Deciding to wait on talking, unsure if her parched throat would actually work or not, Loriana listened. The man told her that she had been unconscious for months, which tended to happen when caught in an explosion, and that no one had done anything to take care of her. Loriana was surprised to have woken up.

Then

 

IC: Brenn?ar Sha the Traitor
Somewhere on the Moonbeam to Borga?s Health Plan

Laughter, smooth and broken, like so many infidels so broken by time that not even their languages simplest gestures can yet be given in an un-cliquish manner. The broken manner of the laugh seemed to break the earth, what little there was for them, the sky joined in it?s breaking. Fragments of this reality rained upon them, crashing upon him he knew that cuts were given to his ooglith, but what could mutter?

Nothing.

As the flames raised higher from their magma depths and drew up their birther with them as though the realm to saturate with fire. Yet they stood eight, separated by the dividing lines that sprang with such ferocity.

Then it spoke, the laughter ended. As a father or assassin that has found that errant being and now knows all by finding. As if a material reply Samaelia appeared and spoke of balance as though to defend them against this unseen attacker. With a heart that reached out he sighed at such a thing as this one did. Yun-Ne?Shel yet still in her naivety spoke of balance reckoned as though it was immutable. He loved and pitied this goddess for it, balance was something that was made to never last. One won, another fell beneath and stabilized all by its subservience, that was peace ? that was war ? that was life as many should yet remember from their crèches.

The voice spoke of it?s disdain for balance of being bound by the rules mixed of light and darkness, and then it said something that threw him deeply unto doubt and confusion of helping this one that brought them here. For it said, ?as I have ordained? and few should speak such words and few came to mind within the Yun?o or beyond it that could.

So he trembled, not of fire, not of earth breaking, but of a simple phrase.

She urged them back, as if they knew how. They were motes of dust upon the wind she had created and were tossed about by the voice. She was darkness and light, with eyes as the nothingness between stars, and a spine that glowed as if it were a star, and so the dichotomy of Yun-Ne?Shel was made evident.

Darkness snaked about her, and for a moment he felt he might see this being that spoke without showing himself. She spoke of when?s as though she had plucked them so soundly from time that was where they were that not even a trail back was certain without her guiding. The darkness reveled in it smugly if the voice was any measure.

Though he cowed and bent before it all he could remove his eyes, nor ears from the chaos about him. She was shocked by the power and knowledge of whomever she dueled and did not recognize it, and so his thoughts became as from a wider net cast upon the turbulent possibilities. Such was for another time, in all ways, as he heard and repeated with a whisper that voice given name. ?Samhain.?

Then the brilliance of the light engulfed him and he was no more. And then he was.

Staring at Ovan above him. The female leader of the small band that he had fallen into the moments before his leaving was there. He was back, and he was bare. A shiver raced back from all his senses at this, at the pain missed, at what might have passed in that time that was lost in finding and losing.

In was entangled in the dead parts of the infidel technology, what group he thought he knew perhaps he did not? Nothing in this these first moments was impossible. Their clucking was a comforting standby that he had not known for so long that his eyes soften slightly at the image they gave him, and the firm hand pulled Ovan back and he was left to lie there in his simple pleasure of being back?despite the nascent distaste of his situation.

Lord Borga? Why is that slime ball of a name familiar? Probably did work through him for a warrior before, and if not probably heard it as a possible bidder for services of one of his clients. Whatever the case she was a name known and with mind filled he left that at the side to be contemplated later.

Khattaz

 

Zayden the Messiah
Teravi, No Man's Land

Considering the madness that had been occurring - the entire landscape seeming to shatter, flames everywhere -, Zayden had been happy when he awoke from the dream.

The pain that hit him made him rethink about his fortune.

With a pained groan, Zayden opened his violet eyes, doing a quick scan around the area to try and figure out where he was. The wasteland that greeted him - offering no hints whatsoever - made that difficult. Was he still on Teravi? More importantly, why did he hurt so much?

One arm curling around his middle, the Mandalorian slowly pushed himself up from the ground. His ribs burned but he also felt stabs of pain along his shoulders and the back of his head. His free hand passed over those areas and he felt the cuts and blood - and patches of missing hair when it came to his head - while he again scanned the area to try and see where he was. He remembered Teravi, his assault on the tower with his comrades, and then that hit to the head that knocked him out. Or did he die? Considering the dream that he just had, he didn't exactly doubt it right now.

But no...this was Teravi. Sure the tower was missing - it was just a pile of debris now - and weapons and armor and bodies were scattered everywhere, but this had been the battlefield that he had fought and killed in moments ago. So what happened? The destroyed tower certainly told him that the Mandalorians had been successful in taking it but had they defeated the Tofs as a whole in this battle? There was no one around for him so he couldn't exactly ask if they had won. More importantly, however, he couldn't ask how he had gotten into this sorry state.

It had slowly dawned upon Zayden that when he checked his injuries, there was no armored shell of beskar covering his form nor helmet over his head. He just had his boots and his bodysuit, his weapons having vanished as well. He again looked down at his ribs where he saw the hole in the suit and his brows furrowed. The implications of why this came to be was obvious and they troubled Zayden. If he had been wearing his armor he wouldn't be having this wound. Which meant he had been stripped of his armor, shot, and then left for dead. But who did it?

Tofs were the obvious answer but Zayden wondered if his fellow Mandalorians had stripped him when they thought he was dead and left him to the buzzards.

How long was I out?

The entire battlefield was deserted of anyone living. Considering Zayden had been in the middle of a push that involved numerous Mandalorians supported by tanks battling with an equal number of Tofs, the completion of the battle and the complete withdrawal of all forces wasn't exactly something that could be done in a few minutes. Had to be an hour that had gone by. At least. This was not counting the wounded - such as Zayden - being stripped and left to be eaten by the buzzards as it was only now he could recall the flapping of wings when he had awoken.

He could stand around wondering all he wanted but the fact of the matter was that Zayden needed to contact his fellow Mandalorians or at the very least find shelter. But first, as he scanned the fallen weapons and armor, he thought about arming himself. There was a blaster pistol nearby and, kneeling down, the large Mando picked it up and glanced at the power pack. The charge was currently low which would give him a dozen shots at most before it would be depleted. It was something but it wasn't exactly much. Sticking it at the small of his back, Zayden glanced around for any other weapons and perhaps some pieces of armor. Out of his original armaments it was his beskad that he treasured the most and he immediately sought for the handle or the blade to be sticking out from the waste, ready for it's master to reclaim it.

Zayden actually thought he saw something that could be a sword a few feet away but that was when he heard the scream.

One hand immediately going to the blaster he had just retrieved, Zayden whirled around in

 

IC: Semaj the Naked Pariah
???, Sturges

Semaj had been in tight places like this before. Ok, maybe not just like this, but things could have been worse. He could have been actually dead. As soon as he had come back from, wherever it had been, he knew he was not within the same timeframe as when he left.

The riot control tank was gone, R19 nowhere to be found, and he was malnourished lying on a cold metal table inside of a plastic baggie. He performed a quick inventory of his belongings and came up with absolutely nothing. He was as naked as the day he came into the galaxy.

He could feel that his muscles had weakened from the lack of use. The only thing that he could figure out is that when his Force Spirit was swept away to the other realm his body collapsed and the law enforcement agents thought he was dead. They would have gathered up his body and delivered him to the coroner?s office.

If he somehow made his way out of here without being recaptured, he knew exactly how to get back over to his apartment. He calmed his breathing, one to save on his oxygen and two to concentrate on focusing the Force. Slowly he reached out to unlock the door to his drawer.

He had it all planned out in his head. First he would pop the door, then slowly slide out his drawer, he would then unzip his bodybag, and then begin the all important search for? a pair of pants. I hope the force is with me on this one.

TAG: Sinre

 

OOC: aaaaaannnnndddd we have a joint between myself and sinre. enjoy.

IC: Loriana Vendra the Liar, aka Lady Agape
Coruscant

Darth Zauber looked at the defiant Shi?ido, absently wondering whether this was worth his time and effort. He decided it was, if only because he didn?t want to waste any more Sith in this matter. The Samhain point was purely one of curiosity; he?d tasked others with investigating the name.

Zauber snapped his fingers, and an orderly came over with a pan of water. Loriana opened her eyes, sensing the orderly and looked at the water, then at Zauber with a slightly disbelieving expression. The Dark Lord pointed, and the Twi?lek threw the water over her. ?Done.?

?Now talk.?

Dripping wet Loriana stared at Zauber, unable to believe what had just happened. Opening her mouth she took a breath only to end up with another coughing fit. Upon regaining control over her body Loriana glared at him, croaking out, ?Kark you, you frelling bastard.? Coughing again she crossed her arms and said, ?Get me some,? cough, ?water to drink.? After a moment, stopping coughing finally, she sewed her mouth shut and stared straight at the Dark Lord defiantly.

Darth Zauber lifted a hand to her, gathering nimbus energy around it, ignoring the reference to himself being an illegitimate orphan. Such things were hardly insults; all Dark Lords were orphans, had been since before the Second Ruusan. As he acted, another orderly came in, holding a glass of clear water, the Farghul stopping beside the Dark Lord.

?Samhain first, water second. If you don?t know anything, you can say. You know I?ll sense the truth, and I wouldn?t have saved you from Jabiim if I didn?t have plans for you already, after all.? Zauber lifted his hand slightly, drawing attention back to it. ?But my patience does have limits, and you are soaking wet.?

The Dark Lord was eminently reasonable, as ever.

Arching an eyebrow, Loriana decided on a more elegant response than words. Absorbing the water into her body, it helped with the dehydration a little bit but did nothing for her throat. Being fried with lightning would hurt, but what was a little pain. Lady Agape would not be denied in this instance.

Darth Zauber smiled. ?I caught that, you know, from your mind. When you?re the rebellious irritant, you refer to yourself as Loriana. But when you are Sith, and angry, you refer to yourself as Agape. It is most amusing. Schizophrenic, even ? I imagine it?ll get even worse now that you used Force drain on a living being until they died.?

As he spoke, a flash of the Gen?dai hit her, enflaming her rage with animal instinct. Zauber released his smile, and lowered his hand. The orderly took the hint, and came over. The orderly bowed, averting his eyes from her flesh. The Farghul had a peculiar sense in the Force; he was not Force sensitive, but he seemed to resonate in the Force, much like the heroes of wars gone past who had worked beside Jedi but not been Force users, like Padme, Han Solo, Jagged Fel, Jacen Cole or Jariah Syn.

In short, the Farghul tasted good.

Staring at the Farghul for several moments her mouth would have started watering if there had been any saliva left. Then Loriana?s nose finally caught the scent of water and she shivered slightly, undoubtedly Zauber would mistake it for her wanting the soul of the Farghul for her own. It was a repugnant thought at best.

Hand snaking out for the water Loriana recreated her mouth and slowly, very slowly, drank it. Other than being healthier it forced the jerk to wait. Several moments passed, and when she was finally done with it her throat felt cracked and likely bleeding. Sadly that was an improvement.

Turning her attention back to Zauber, Loriana spoke softly. ?A harbinger of galactic badassery the likes of which you and I can?t even begin to understand. Assuming what happened to me was real instead of illusion or hallucination. Personally I?m not convinced, but everything is starting to make it seem more likely.? It was

 

Admiral Calek Pest the Leader
The Medbay

Pain and the oar feeling of injur were there, but no wound. Only a strange dream.

There was no time to take care of it now. The ship was obviousl in combat. Taking the comm he coughed and opened the channel. "Lorrel. Report." Was all he said.

Chiss. Battle. Arca. How long had he been gone? At least days, if not weeks.

He sat up and looked for his uniform. The Doctor would not keep him out of a fight. If Pest had to he would tun him.

Tag: Sinre

 

IC: Lord Sallacine the Prophet
Dark World then Corulag, Imperial Medical Ward
Lord Sallacine honestly rarely had moments in which he had no clue what to do. And although he had surprised himself with his swift control of the situation before, Sallacine had found he had little to say as the others about him in the dark realm responded in varying ways. Some outright denied he existed, which he frankly found insulting, but then again, Senator Verin addressing him as "m'lord" cheered him up considerably.

Ah, how pleasure is found in the little things! Sallacine mused as Verin responded in the affirmative to his words. He was particularly interested in whatever irregularity had appeared at Yavin, but he had no time to respond to him as the Sith lady snapped at him in a way he found sassy. He contemplated reminding her of exactly who he was... but then again, he quickly realized, she was Sith; if he reminded her of his status and authority in the arrogant way he was about to, he was sure she was going to remind him of who she was... and he suspected that reminder would come in the form of a searing beam of energy through his gut rather than words.

The Liar doesn't sound like the most friendly thing ever, does it?

And then that was when things got a whole lot more exciting... and to put it simply, scarier. Flames were projected high into the air, and the entire reality Sallacine was in seemed to collapse, fissures appearing in the ground as a powerful voice thundered through the dark place. Sallacine listened carefully to its words, watching with interest but apathy even while floating in the blistering air as Samaelia was absorbed by the light.

And then the voice revealed its source - or the name ascribed to its source, by any rate. Samhain.

Sallacine's dignity was retained this time around; he did not scream, but he certainly gasped as fear ran through him. It was the demon he had met in space, the demon that had spoken to him personally and who he had been reaching for... and just like during that episode, darkness wrapped around him.

And suddenly all was black.

It was as if he was suspended in abeyance for an eternity. A strange awareness of not being ware enveloped him, and finally... or was it instantly?... came a rush of confusing noise, and a whirl of colors and glaring light as his eyes was peeled open.

The whirl never faded.

He was blind!

And deaf!

But no, he could hear, could he not? That rush of noise... That is not deafness. And suddenly things seemed to clarify for him, and those confusing noises took form as a myriad of voices which penetrated his ears. Scary voices, too - not by virtue of their pitch or emotion expressed in their tones' inflections, but by their words' content.

Asleep for a month? Sallacine thought.

Then there was a jolt, and it was not from the adrenaline beginning to pump through his system as fear shot through him, but by stim injection.

Things got even sharper, and finally Sallacine came to the conclusion he could open his mouth, and contribute to some of that noise around him. "What happened?" A cliche, perhaps, but it was the natural question someone waking up from unconsciousness would ask, and so Sallacine asked it. Deciding it wasn't satisfactory on its own, he added, "I remember the bomb, and everything going black." Needless to say he did not mention being elsewhere - somehow, even in his somewhat addled state, he recognized the foolishness of doing that. His grandfather had always said to him Sallacine's gift was the fact even his subconscious had political acumen.

The thought of his grandfather brought back a familiar pang of pain... and guilt. Not now, Sallacine. You've spent years forgetting what happened on Sentren II, don't bring it up now! Besides, you know it wasn't really your fault... Sallacine still felt, internally, it had been, and no amount of talking to himself in his head could convince his soul that it wasn't, but... Enough.

Sallacine dragged his thoughts