Star Wars OPEN New Sith Trials: Dark Reach: Episode I: An Order Remade

Combo with Quinlan Vos, Darth_wanderguard & Jerjerrod-Lennox


IC: Plo Wanderguard, Captain Lennox Jerod, Vex Nolzit/ Erebus, & Syren
Aboard the Dark Dreamer, orbiting Nal Hutta

Where are you? Everyone still alive?

Syren stared down at her comm, her back still to Erebus and now Jerod, who had stepped away from her to address their prisoner directly. She did not relent the pressure that continued to press down on the would-be Sith's chest, not yet, and may have unintentionally added a several pounds more in reaction to Plo's implication that she may have already killed the two males sharing the space with her. As if to say she was a mindless murderer, having no appreciation for her skills.

After a light scoff, she raised her wrist closer to her mouth, replying to Plo with a voice message rather than text.

"In the gym, and yes, they're both dead," she began with a sarcastic drip to her voice, now casting a glance over her shoulder as Jerod threatened the zabrak with bodily harm. How cute. "Your stalker was acting under the orders of a 'Lord Xiaozhan'. Does the name ring a bell?"

Vex grunted as the weight continued to press down upon him, despite the man called Lennox's request. He looked up at the man standing above him.

"Of course, of course, I'll stick to all of your requests. I never much liked Xiaozhan, and you lot are honestly much more easy to get along with, even considering that I am currently being crushed against a table. I have no benefits of turning against you all, seeing just how outnumbered I am. I'll take you there, and hope that you see fit for me to join with you all."

He once again looked around the room, acknowledging the static coming from the comm as Syren awaited a response. He was still somewhat surprised that this crew had never heard of his employer, though maybe they were from another end of the galaxy. Something along those lines had to be the case.

"So when do I get to meet with this 'Plo' again? Assuming that he doesn't try to hit me again..."

Plo entered the room abruptly and with purpose. “No, I’ve never heard of him,” he answered the comm in person instead. “Must not be anyone especially important to history.”

He took quick stock of the situation - the way the prisoner was being slowly crushed was creative. He liked it.

“I see Lennox has done his job and kept you from killing the subject... now where is it we’re going?” Plo hadn’t even really acknowledged Vex to this point, focusing instead on Syren and to a lesser degree on Lennox. He didn’t figure the man would be alive much longer anyhow. “Tell me you’ve got something useful other than just a name.”

Syren acknowledged Plo's entrance with a nod of her head, her eyes staying on Erebus.

"Seems this Xiaozhan ordered him to bring Bellorum and myself directly to his offices, in exchange for training in our Sith ways." She tapped a finger upon her chin, a humorless smirk crossing her lips as she stared down at the zabrak. "It's clear his Lord was using him - promising training in exchange for following his orders but never actually paying up."

That was an afterthought, and made no difference to her. She pressed on. "As far as we know, this one's capture is our little secret. Therefore, we have an opportunity to deliver the goods as Xiaozhan wanted, perhaps learning more in the process?" She looked up at Plo beside her, seeing if he'd understand her meaning.

As Syren was having her discussion with Plo regarding his text message Jerod's comm pinged. It was Bellorum asking Jerod to lift the ship away from Nal Hutta, obviously they were waiting for Vex to spill the beans to get to their next destination.

"With pleasure" he responded to Bellorum before switching channels to the bridge "Carrusco, has Azzurri had any luck with the ATC?"

"Despite the fact I may have learned some new swear words, Azzurri has had success, managed to convince them that there was an emergency aboard and we needed to depart"

"Well done, if everyone is aboard Plo has ordered us to take off. Let's get off this mudball, get the navigator to stand by for our next stop"

There was a quick discussion between Carrusco and the navigator then "Roger that, standing by"

The hum inside the room then began to increase as Carrusco gunned the repulsorlifts, then increased some more as he gunned the engines. It was a relief to be off Nal Hutta, but he knew that they may be off to even more dangerous places. Especially if there were other Sith Lords involved.

Meanwhile Vex was still talking, basically sounding like he was begging for the chance to join the crew and it looked like he was also willing to shop his boss to them all.

Plo entered, Lennox giving him a nod and moving over toward where him and Syren where standing, listening in on the conversation.

"Syren is correct" he responded after Syren had finished her piece "This Sith Lord could be using Vex as his errand boy, promising him things like training but not giving them, keeping him on a leash so to speak." Lennox quickly glanced at Vex before returning back to Plo "If this Xiaozhan does exist could he be the leader or part of a crime syndicate?. Because why else would he and this Zabrak be at the auction house looking to grab slaves?"

He folded his arms "It could be that this Xiaozhan could be behind the kidnapping of Xander and Hel. And if we want them back, perhaps this Zabrak could lead us right into the boss's lair. If he doesn't give is the information we need then it's up to you what you do with him. But if he does, perhaps there could be a good reason for him to join us. Perhaps he could be useful"

He looked to Vex "All we need to get is the location. He hasn't spilled it so far".

Plo blinked in confusion. He looked to Syren and then back to Jerod. You...” he paused, brought a tired hand up to slick his hair back and looked at the floor with a deep exhale. “You didn’t get the sole piece of information we needed most?”

With that, the weights crushing down into Vex were thrown aside, and his body was wrenched upward with violent force. Once, twice, three times in quick succession he smacked into the ceiling with a small windup between each impact, hard enough to break bones but not quite enough to maim him permanently. He then began to pinball about the room, flying airborne from one wall to the other, and then a third and a fourth and back to the first, spinning about and violently striking each surface with his whole flailing body. With each collision, a bone would break audibly and by the time it was through he would not have an uninjured inch of surface area anywhere on his body. Except his head. Head trauma has a way of making the subject hazy, Plo thought. Pain, however, when administered appropriately, could bring a biting clarity to the mind. It had a way of refining one’s priorities.

Finally Vex was let to fall, and came to rest on the floor in a bloody heap, on his back. Beside him, Plo knelt and spoke.

“Here’s what’s about to happen,” he began to explain, “you’re going to tell me in what system we can find your master. This answer can be a single word if you like. If it does not later reveal itself to be a lie, or a trap, or some other attempt to waste my precious time, there is a possibility you may be trained. There is also a possibility that I will kill you anyway. There is a possibility it will be painless, and also that I will amuse myself by extracting every exquisite ounce of pain your body can muster on its way to death. I make no promises whatever in that regard. However, the one promise I will make, and which I can make with complete sincerity and good faith, is that if you choose to continue this waterhead ****-around for a single moment longer, I will tear the bollocks from you with my bare hand and stuff them down your gullet.”

As Vex flew around the room, he tried to let go and relax his body, attempting to absorb the blows and avoid the pain. Unfortunately, he failed miserably in this regard, and by the time he was released from the invisible grip, he had broken his left wrist, snapped his femur in his right leg, had his left foot nearly shattered, and at least two chipped vertebrae. He looked up at the man now hovering above him, now terrified by the sense of calm composure still surrounding him. He grunted in pain as he used his right arm to push himself up slightly, finding that his pinky finger on that hand was now at an extremely awkward angle compared to the others. He bit back tears, desperate not to show any weakness, as that was the way of these people, these Sith. If he wanted their help, he would need to act like them.

He groaned as a sudden aching pain hit his side, but fought back the cry that nearly escaped his lips. Now face to face with this Plo, he spoke with rasping breaths, as a cracked rib had partially punctured a lung.

“All I know as of now is… hrngh… is that he’s somewhere in the Taris system… ack…” Spitting up blood, he pressed on. “However, I don’t know anything further, but I do… kriff!!.... I do have a tracking fob, only accessible to me. The same goes for… for my keycard. I can get you there and inside, but you have to trust me!!”

He fell down once more, no longer able to support his own weight, and put all his efforts into fighting through the agonizing pain over his entire body. He hoped that it would all be fixed soon, and that he wouldn’t have to endure this torture much longer.

Plo smiling faintly was the last thing Vex would see as he faded into unconsciousness, overcome by the pain. Plo looked up to Syren and Jerod passive-aggressively, and gave a subtle shrug. “Jerod, be a captain and take us to Taris. Syren, please dump our friend in the bacta tank. We’ll need his help again when we arrive.” With that he stood and made his exit without another word.

Jerod watched as basically Vex was used as a Zabrak pinball by Plo. Actually this wasn't Plo, it was Haretisch unleashed.

He had seen Plo do unspeakable horrors like killing his bridge crew on the Revelator just because they had seen Plo sharing a moment with Hel. He had managed to survive that one and resolved to warn future crews basically to carry on doing their duties should another moment like that happen again. He had watched impassively before he was doing so again now.

So much for wanting to keep him unharmed he thought. And he couldn't help as he watched his hands sliding down and resting on top of his batons.

Did Vex deserve it? Possibly. He had been so cocky and sure of himself in front of him and Syren. And it wasn't their fault he wouldn't give up the location of his boss. Syren had applied the right pressure, Jerod had done the verbal pressure. And then Plo decided enough was enough and decided to beat it out of him. Syren could have done that easily enough herself were it not for Plo's strict instructions not to harm him too much.

And the Plo simply dismissed them both it was basically like he was saying You failed so I had to deal with it. Plo may think he had reformed but Jerod could still see the beast below and Hel being kidnapped wasn't helping.

"Yes sir" he said simply as Plo exited removing his hands from his batons und pulling his comlink off his belt "Navigator? To Taris please. Carrusco, you might want to get us there as quick as you can."

"Yes sir. I assume our mystery guest spilled?"

"Don't ask" Jerod simply replied "Let's just say it was rather messy" he turned the comlink off and turned to Syren.

"Well that was ...eventful" he said "We could have got the location from him, I guess Plo couldn't wait anymore" he sighed "So much for reforming himself"

"I did enjoy working eith you though, perhaps we shall do so again" he gave her a respectful nod "Milady" and then left the gym to head back to the bridge.

Syren gave a nod in return as Jerrod followed in Plo's wake, exiting the torn up gym and leaving her alone with the zabrak. She brushed back a few strands of her hair, sighing heavily as she stared at his unconscious form. Even then, his deep pain and anguish radiated in the Force, of which she shuddered at its unseen touch.

Some things were the same, yes? But so much about her was rather different. In her past, she would've been the one to injure a target much as Plo had - she would have gotten their answers in a much shorter time, when time for play was not available.

Was she going soft? Was it... him... Aryan, his constant lingering in her mind even when she didn't acknowledge it. Had their relationship changed her that fundamentally? Had she changed him?

Signalling a request via comm for medics to meet her, Syren walked over and leaned in on Erebus, resting a hand over his forehead. Pulling on his inner turmoil and the agonizing breaks in his body, she did all she could to silence the questions she did not want to answer while she waited for assistance.

TAGS: @Darth_wanderguard @Jerjerrod-Lennox @Quinlan Vos @Lady Belligerent

 

IC: Serapis
In the Queen Mother's throne room

Serapis realized all too late that he would need to adapt to Rendorr's human physiology. One throat. So strange. He wasn't ever in charge of the Kaminoan's body, so he didn't need to worry about such small things as breathing.

He also found he was... less than what he was before. The hurried exit from the dying droid must have caused him to leave parts of himself behind. What he had he needed to augment with Rendorr's mind, still sitting in the corner of the mind.

This being, staggered by the combination of physical and mental illness, stumbled. He fell to the marble floor, still keeping ahold of the rifle for when he does need it. How to get himself back to square? Perhaps he can use this Rendorr fellow to an advantage. The brains and the braun, as it were. Yet in this case it would be Rendorr that controlled the body, while Serapis filled the mind. It won't be hard. Even as he was taking over the body, he could tell that Rendorr was no genius.

"Wake, Rendorr. Take control of your body again." he said to the guard's consciousness. He sensed reluctance from the guard consciousness, though. Perhaps he disliked the prospect of sharing the mind? He spoke further to him. "Rendorr, we can both be much more than we were before. You would be amazed at some of the things you will be able to do with your body once we become a team!" Serapis waited for something to happen. Either a response from Rendorr or some movement. For a few heartbeats, nothing. Then...

"You are the enemy! I shouldn't be helping you!" Rendorr responded finally.

Ahhh, reluctance. That he could work with. Cost is not an issue when value is recognized. "Rendorr, I understand completely. But I would be helping you, too." He appealed to this man's pride. "You are a magnificent man. I could tell that when I chose you. You do work hard on yourself. But, now, I can assist in that effort. You work the body. I work the mind."

A pause. Rendorr was considering it. That was a good thing. "That would make you my ally, though. You're the enemy."

"We were meant to be allies anyway. That's why we came to Hapan space, to come to an agreement with your leadership." Serapis looked around at the chaos happening around them. "An agreement that went awry with treachery, yet can still be resolved. If all of us work together."

Serapis felt the body breathe better. "This can work. One last question. Are you a permanent resident? Or will I be free of you someday?"

"That is up to you, but we will both be better off for the experience." Serapis felt the body relax, grip the rifle and stand. "Now, to come to some kind of agreement with the rest of these beings. Rendorr, allow me to use your voice."

"Merel! I want to know! Tell me! Since you have caused all of this chaos with your meddling, I want to know! I want to know how you intend to get out of here alive." He turned to the rest of the room. "Friends! And you are friends. This woman has poisoned what could have been a beneficial relationship for the Hapans and for the Sith. Work with me to get her out of the picture as I am working with your guard Rendorr to operate this body."

Tags: @darthhelinith @darthbernael @Sinrebirth @Snokers

 

IC: Manticore
En Route to Kesh

Manticore issued a curt grunt when he ‘opened’ his eyes. For someone who was fully in control of his own somatic cycle, he surmised that his sleep-state had been ‘subtly induced’, especially after seeing that he was not alone in this ‘dream’. Both Leda and Bernael were in this ‘dreamscape’, along with three other figures who he’d never actually met, but was acquainted with through his advanced studies of Lore.

The Son, The Father, The Daughter.

Manticore knew that this was not ‘real’, not in the material sense. That was not his question, he needed to ascertain if this was ‘true’, but before he could begin to investigate, words, no - voices- where in his mind.

‘The Ones’ spoke, their words echoing in his mind. The Son spoke of displacement. ‘Temporary?’ now that was curious bit. The Daughter’s words offered no new insight, but her light; Manticore grimaced reflexively, expecting pain from it, but none came. It…it had evoked a fading sentiment, which he immediately snuffed-out from his conscious mind. He was not ready for that. The Father: His words were a portentous proclamation. The Patriarch’s words sparked thoughts of The Man in Grey, whom he had hardly considered since arriving in this timeline, and who had now become an afterthought, even as Emperor Insipid strode through ‘The Ones’, dissipating them in the process and speaking his own words of portent.

Manticore would not remember much else upon ‘waking’. As such, there was much for him to meditate on as it was.

Slowly, he turned, opening his eyes anew, having been jostled awake by their arrival on Kesh.

Upon waking, Manticore was immediately aware that he was not at the pilot’s seat where he had been last, but it was Darth Insipid who was now guiding the ship, for Insipid was a fair pilot himself. The vehement zabrak was possessed of a keen mind and memory, as such, he despised gaps in them. He contained his annoyance for now, as he knew the exact reasons why these ‘lapses’ occurred. These were ‘after effects’, the result of his ‘near past’. Manticore knew full well what had to be done. It was just a matter of time.

Smoothly and without a word, he simply got up and moved to take the co-pilot’s chair as he listened to what was being spoken between the Sith Emperor and Bernael, even while he checked the ship’s sensors for anything that might seem unusual. With everything that was happening, he found his level of added precaution justified.

Insipid’s grand plan was still resolving itself, from what he could gather, as it was wont to do. Word from the other missions would arrive in due time, for better or worse. Needless to say, they were all prepared to deal with either outcome.

Then Insipid did something Manticore had not expected. He named a new Sith Council. The Lord of Hate, The Lord of Pain, The Lord of Hunger. Manticore himself, Leda and Bernael respectively.

Manticore offered the Emperor a deferential nod of acknowledgement at this proclamation. Though Insipid was still adjusting to his new body, there was much that needed attending to.

'It begins’ Manticore thought to himself. Those who did not rally under Insipid’s banner, were to become their enemies by default. This was the Sith way.

The ship continued on its course, even as the first session of the Sith Council was called immediately after it was formed. The matter of securing the First Sith Order’s victory was tabled. To that end, Bernael, The Lord of Hunger, shared his wisdom on the matter.

Listening to Bernael revealed his wisdom as well as other things. Most intriguing, indeed. Patiently, the zabrak waited his turn to speak before offering his own words.

“I believe it best to hear any report from the other missions before we proceed, lest we increase our vulnerability in this timeline. We can ill afford to proceed blindly with respect to our own, as there is much we still don’t know already in regards to this present history. We can fill any intelligence gaps as we move forward, as long as we manage the risks. I propose we clarify our roll call first, then we can proceed with established plans.”

Manticore came to a thoughtful pause. He found he could not reconcile that which he wished to articulate next. ‘Betrayal’ was an inexorable trait of the Sith, their irrevocable stigma, as it were. A Scorpion without a Stinger is no Scorpion at all. The issue was not the Stinger, but the moment of the stinging. The event itself.

There; almost beyond his perception, a subtle dark ripple in the force- he almost missed it. And in that instant, Manticore had his answer.

Be not ignorant. In case of Scorpions, prepare for their Sting!

This was an ‘old lesson’ he had somehow forgotten- but now, something had triggered it, causing him to remember it. A torrent of unbidden memories immediately threatened to surface, but he was faster and managed to close the flood gates just in time.

'Not here. Not now.'

Coming back to the moment, the zabrak cleared his throat.

“On second thought, I insist we leave Bedlam for last.” He tried to say as neutrally as possible, but failed to keep the hint of distaste from his words.


Tag: @Sinrebirth, @darthbernael, @QueenSabe7

*Slowly making my way back >.<

 

IC: Soliloquy
Hyperspace, aboard a perilous jump

One slip or a trip and they all would slide all the way down to chaos. What a wonderfully precarious situation. It saw him playing with the entrance to his Holocron within himself. Feeling it out as he waited for TRAYUS to share what news it had to share. What this second thing was. A lone eye watching a black dome in silence, patterned and true, uncaring for faces and voices that were more hollow than any shell he could cast.

TRAYUS paused, shortly, and then a different face arose.



"Resistance. Rebellion. Defiance. These are concepts that cannot be allowed to persist. You are but one of many tools by which these ideas shall be burned away."

The droid was softly spoken. "You must know that you have been betrayed. Insipid told the Kaminoans that you were coming; he gave them a script that you should follow, and if not, he should be informed. He did the same with the other missions; to Hapes; to Kuat; to Mustafar."

"He is unbound; he has no Triumvirs to keep him in check, and no lover to tease out his eccentricities. He sees betrayal everywhere, and creates traitors." The voice spoke in a dulcet tone.

"You know, don't you?"

The head of Soliloquy tilted as the eye irised closed at the other. "There you are." he softly uttered, like a exhalation of a sigh frustrated yet reassured. He never truly believed the other was as good nor hired those as good with droids as he believed, this was evidence of the same.

"I have lived too long to be blind unless I choose it. He is as he has always crumbled towards and has not learned to shore up a dancing mind between shells." it was the simple reply, the bleak truth.

"So what do you intend to do, ancient Holocron. You’re a Sith, you claim, but you serve lessers, no? Hmmm,” the droid tapped a claw to its chin.

"You should join the Contingency, what you call the First Order now. The last Dark Lord of the Sith - the last Emperor, he demands it, no? Are not your modern Orders all predicated on serving my Master?"

The droid leaned forward, all ominous. "I have dug into your histories; the New Sith Order was founded to dominate the galaxy until Palpatine’s Return. The Second Imperium awaits, Holocron. Join the Supreme Leader, and become victorious at last."

"Wrong." he simply stated. Bold, harsh and immoving. After a moment his head dipped. Waiting for his own thoughts to coalesce beyond that blank statement.

"You are wrong, I claimed Darkness. Not Sith. You are correct, I serve lessers, that is what a holocron is made to do. Serve lessers that it might find a raw potential to make an equal, or to aid betters."

"Wrong, I am not of a modern Orders. Mine predates Palpatine, predates Bane, predates much you recognize. I serve my self interest, I serve Darkness, Chaos, and to a point I aid and find calm purpose in serving others of the Dark such as Sith. As for The Second Imperium, Snoke slighted me and frustrates my relatives, the Old Ones. I was fond of that body that was ritualistically sacrificed to give my cousin form and substance. Words and baited breath without substance are like hook without barbs. You may gain my attention, but you will not keep it."

The droid hissed. "So be it. You have had your offer. We shall leverage your Order into pieces, and your Dark Lord will help us. The Contingency was founded by the greatest of the Sith; of the Darkness itself."

The red body seemed to pace around Soliloquy. "But there is Sith knowledge here that you will not have. Of Darth Tanis, and the Malachor battlestation... of Darth Caldoth and his failure of an apprentice... of Momin and his mask... of the legendary Darth Atrius and his cursed blades... the First Order has knowledge that you do not."

"Indeed, we have our own tales of your own Darth’s Ruin, Bane, Revan, Andeddu, Tenebrous, Desolous and Phobos... do you not wonder why we have some of what you have, and some of what we have, and you have some of what you have?"

Pressing into the Force the room darkened. The lights dimmed and flickered before fading unnaturally as reality, their little bubble of it seemed to shrink to them two, both with red outer shells glistening in light that did not seem to actually exist. Out of the ground black tendrils of chaos arose to grasp the droid, the Force pressing in to keep everything contained between them. No errant signals to the ship, no possible walk ins. Just them, just two. Then, with the Force he pushed to crush it, rend it, destroy it.

"You heard my words, but you did not listen. You merely babble of self indulgent lore and love. Saved lore from the self same that it was secreted away from. I care for lore, but your view is spouted narrow and therefore limited. You had one last chance. I care not what you did with it. After all, you cannot kill me in a way that matters and these yet have little meaning. Evening glories and frittering mayflies all. You already show yourself wane of power and understanding, what more will you show puppet?"

The droid actually fluttered backwards, afraid, almost. It analyzed the eccentricity to its data, and it's visage flickered. "We do not understand why you do not yield. The Contingency will prevail - it is the design of the late Emperor Palpatine. Probabilities are such that you should surrender, before his trap ensnares you whole."

It could not resist Soliloquy, and, this deep into hyperspace, it could not communicate the danger crushing it entirely.

There was a surge of data, and it sought a connection between it and the nearest machine that it could communicate with; the Holocron itself. As much as the Force was beyond it, technology was what it was. A bubble of static would fill Soliloquy, the only attack the droid could launch.

The darkness wavered and then the red and black form burst into a red mist. Revealing a large and imposing black chitin carapace with the sound of a clattering holocron upon the floor. It's red glow illuminating the form.



"Only now, do you begin to understand." and with that cold hate and passionless feeling he finished his work. Scrapping a droid and taking control of his own fate.

The droid screeched an electronic scream, and died, crossing that divide from construct to sentient only in time to understand how much it did not, and so it grew more in that scream than it ever could or would under the spectral hand of a dead Emperor.

Nothing was lost.

A trash of components remained, and Soliloquy was left with his thoughts, and so many more besides.

A slow clap echoed into the room, and then passed.

"It is pleasant to know the stage is not in vain." he simply spoke as his shroud from before slowly began to reform, as if the mist was settling to dew upon him and growing by drops. "Shall the enjoyer become a patron or a critique?" He questioned idly as he stayed in place. Gathering himself.

There was no further sound.

No further mocking.

No patron or critique evident.

Merely the aftermath from the echo...

... which, it was obvious, had originated from within his Holocron.

But silence, and nothing more or less, prevailed.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

Combo with Darth Cocytus and Sinrebirth

Darth Cocytus and Luke Skywalker
Dark Lord Ascending Part 3
A Web of Half-Truths and Half-Lies

Cocytus nodded at his master's warnings. Luke Skywalker was indeed a great and terrible opponent to cross blades with. No doubt he may be able to sense the darkness within him just as Cocytus could sense the light within Skywalker. No matter, no matter. The Dark Lord of the Sith had the advantage in multiple ways, nonetheless. First being that Jedi do not attack unless provoked, and Cocytus had no intention of fighting Luke Skywalker. Second, Cocytus was under the protection of the Kaminoan Government, which had no allegiance to the New Republic. Thus to raise blade against him would be to raise blade against Kamino itself. Cocytus sought to play this peacefully. Luke Skywalker would be wise to play the same as well.

Just as Taun We once did days before, Cocytus waited at the door as Luke Skywalker approached, all his true thoughts under lock and key. He ushered him inside with a humble bow. The time had come to play Skywalker like a fiddle, appealing to his Jedi ways and duties.

"Greetings, Grandmaster Jedi." he spoke warmly, "My name is Afan Te, newly named Representative of Prime Minister Taun We. We have been looking forward to such a presence as yours, especially after the terrible tragedy that had befallen our world."

"Just Master," Luke said, gesturing at Cocytus not to add the full title. "There is no Jedi Order, not at yet." He didn't think about the training he had given Leia recently. His eyes frittered around, trying to seek the dark he could sense. "Tell me, what is happened here. I was told that Tipoca City was the capital, no?"

He could sense something, and that included this Afan Te.

Cocytus, or Afen Te, as the Jedi would know him as, blinked before merely nodding at Luke's preference to the simple title of "Master". He was actually a little surprised that the New Jedi Order hasn't fully risen yet, having forgotten how early he was in the timeline. Nonetheless, this was already a good start, with Luke apparently not suspecting anything yet.

"Very well, Master Luke." Cocytus noted, as he led the Jedi down the city's hallways. He might as well tell him exactly what happened, no matter how misleadingly. "Topica City was indeed our capital city, but unfortunately we had to sink it after a certain business meeting with a group of Dark Siders turned disastrous which ended with a failed coup. An army of rabid clones were unleashed, wrecking much havoc before being sent to the depths and all traitors were dealt with... except for the Sith of course... who managed to escape."

Cocytus made a thin smile as he laid out the irresistible bait on its hook, now waiting for Luke, the Jedi Knight, to snatch it.

"The Sith?" Luke shook his head, used to the idea that the common people, if they knew anything about red lightsabers, would call them the Sith.

"The Sith are dead; these Acolytes of the Beyond are their own dangerous philosophy," he said. He parsed what Afen Te had to say with the Force, and there was a truth to it. Luke settled for the moment, nodded.

"Escape?" He grimaced. "I can stay and help with disaster relief, but I should really pursue these Acolytes..." Luke held onto his hope, and that the Force would respond accordingly. "... did you manage to track their destination? Any data would be appreciated."

Cocytus's smile thinned at Luke's denial of the Sith's return. Oh well. Makes sense considering his father was the So-Called Chosen one who fulfilled the supposed Prophecy by destroying Darth Sidious. Its almost funny how little the Jedi Order have changed, not being able to sense the return of their most deadly enemy in Galactic History. No matter, no matter. If Luke wants more info and proof, he will give the Jedi more proof.

"Kamino can take care of itself, thank you, Master Jedi." Cocytus said, waving away Luke's concern, "But Acolytes of the Beyond? Either that's a cover name Darth Insipid has made for the Order or you just got them mixed up with another, I am not sure. My memory is admittedly hazy after an unfortunate accident..."

The Kaminoan's eyes narrowed. What came next was necessary, but risky, if he wanted to destroy Insipid's Order. "You killed Darth Insipid, their leader, on Kuat, didn't you, Master Skywalker? I felt it... in the Force." Cocytus said before turning to the Jed, staring at him in the eyes, "Take it from me that the Sith indeed have returned for I myself was once among their ranks before becoming disillusioned over time and rejecting their teachings, especially after what happened here on my own home world. Now even after leaving the Order, I may still be within the Dark Side in my own way, but I have no quarrel with you, nor your Order, Master Skywalker. I do not wish to fight you and the New Republic has no jurisdiction over Kamino. I only wish to avenge my world for the Sith's treachery while I spend the rest of my days among my people. I can give you other names, if you want, and can even tell you that it's quite possible that Darth Insipid is in fact not dead, but transferred his essence to another body. Such powerful Sith have unlocked such secrets of the Force."

Cocytus saw they were getting close to Taun We's office and closed his eyes and sighed ruefully. He hoped that Luke would understand now. "Whether or not you believe me that the Sith have indeed returned is up to you. Your father, Anakin Skywalker, was said to have been the one to fulfill a Jedi Prophecy of the Sith's destruction. Apparently he missed some and now they have returned more numerous than before, abandoning the Rule of Two of Darth Bane. Nevertheless, of those Dark Siders who have escaped from Kamino, Darth Vyatoris, Darth Kronos, Soliloquy and others, unfortunately, I cannot say where they're headed or have gone."

The Kaminoan was giving a great deal of information. He was still processing his revelations in order. But even then, at the last one, Luke paused, speaking before he had his thoughts in order. "Abandoning the Rule of Two?"

This was unprecedented, as far as his studies since the Battle of Endor had suggested. Leia had told him about the Inquisitors, a group of Dark Jedi that had assisted Vader with the Purge, but the majority - if not all - of them had been killed before he had even joined the Rebel Alliance. If there had been other Dark Jedi, they could easily have taken the title of Sith in the aftermath.

"Shavit," Luke said, swearing.

Essence transfer?

Luke's brow beetled, and he came to speak aloud again. "Darth Sidious - Emperor Palpatine - was known for hiding in plain sight, so there is no surprise to that." He did wonder about the Kaminoan's almost... glee that he was telling this tale. It seemed almost as if he was enjoying being superior, and Luke found himself mentally shaking his head. He had been warned about Kaminoan superiority. "But essence transfer... I have never heard of such a thing."

The Jedi Master stopped as they neared Taun We's office. "I need to try and track them down. I am sorry, Afen Te, but Sith or not, Acolytes or not, they are darksiders that I must hunt. I will have to thank you for your help, and go... and I hope that the New Republic and Kamino can become friends one day..."

Luke reached out with his mind one more time, searching the City, and while he found little eddies of darkness, it was silent, for that moment. "... and perhaps one day you and I can discuss the Force more." He produced his comlink and forwarded his contact data. "I would love to discuss the Kaminoan view of it."

"If I intend to found the Jedi again, which I may, or may not, depending on these Acolytes and how widespread their activities are, it will be useful to have different perspectives to teach them." Luke smiled, though he appreciated that Afen Te may not reciprocate the smile.

Cocytus was internally glad that he was well trained in self-discipline over the years. Otherwise, he'd be laughing his heart out at the irony of Luke Skywalker's statements. The Jedi learned nothing from their mistakes and lack of vision. Instead, though, the kaminoan kept his thin smile and bowed his head and neck at the Jedi Master.

"The pleasure and honor is mine to help one such as you." He said coolly, "Regardless of our different views of the Force, I hope to foresee a unique bond between you and I, as well as between Kamino and the New Republic." Of course, deep inside, Cocytus had an entirely different vision of such a bond than Luke Skywalker could possibly imagine.

"Now, if you are in a hurry, would you like a quick word with the Prime Minister? Or would you like me to escort you back to your ship?" Cocytus asked, "I understand you must be very busy, having to finish what your Father had started…"

Luke narrowed his eyes, sensing something amiss but conscious that he would need to deal with it later. These Acolytes were dangerous, and his only other lead was Hapes, another non-New Republic system. "I need to go - but please let me know if anything happens that you need me to investigate further."

He paused as he turned. "And whatever it is that you are up to, as I can tell there is something, make sure you understand that I will stand in your path if it involves hurting innocents. That is not a threat," Luke said mildly, retracing his steps

"It is a promise, Afen. I believe what you are saying, I do, but I want to be your ally, and friend, and Kamino's too. Whatever politics you are playing here, it is none of my business until you make it mine."

Whatever Luke had put together, it was not the full picture.

But it was enough to make him notice Afen.

Just not Darth Cocytus.

The Sidious AI urged Cocytus to let Luke go. They had been lucky to get this far. If Luke had been more forceful about it, he'd know everything. His naivety was what it was, but...

There was a glimmer in the dark side; Styx had accessed the Holocron.

Luke stopped, sensing it, his hand instinctively on his lightsaber hilt.

Darth Cocytus frowned himself as he felt his Apprentice gain access to the Holocron, but didn't put too much thought on it, if any. Under any other situation, he would be feeling pride towards his Apprentice, but this was too soon, especially with a Jedi in their midst. The kaminoan had to act decisively and be rid of Luke Skywalker. He smiled thinly, knowing just the way, as he himself felt something in the Dark Side of the Force, a power growing in Wild Space.

"Is something bothering you, Master Luke Skywalker?" Cocytus asked calmly, his eyes narrowing at his Jedi weapon. "If you intend to raise blade against my people, Master Jedi, I suggest that you leave immediately. Any wrong move and I promise you, you will not leave Kamino alive. Not only am I still trained in the arts of the lightsaber and the Force myself, to protect my world, but I am still most respected among my people. The authorities will deal with you at my very word, and the New Republic will be powerless having no authority over Kamino."

Cocytus bowed his head to Skywalker in a show of respect. "I still wish to be your ally, Master Jedi. Now as one final show of friendship, if you want a lead on these so-called 'Acolytes', I suggest you check out the various Sith Worlds in Wild Space, such as Kesh, for one. I feel the Dark Side gaining strength on that world."

"Kesh?" Luke frowned. It was not a world he had heard of, but he pocketed the name mentally. He didn't intend to cause a galactic incident, though he was unhappy with the state of matters on Kamino. Perhaps...

Luke would have to intervene later. "Thank you, Afen." The Jedi Master bowed, and went to leave.

Darth Cocytus watched as Luke leave and waited calmly to make sure he was truly gone. Luke suspected something and the meeting nearly ended in disaster. Still, the Kaminoan didn't believe in luck. The Force was clearly on his side this day, but even that doesn't unforeseen circumstances. Once the jedi was surely gone, Cocytus requested one of Taun We's staff to inform her that Luke Skywalker will not be welcome on Kamino without 'Afen Te's' permission. As a last thing, he wanted her informed to start making contact with Snoke's First Order, as well as Moff Ecressey. Kamino is going to need allies and Cocytus's ambitions were growing to expand his reach. Once that was taken care of, the Dark Lord of the Sith approached his Apprentice's chambers.

"Been learning anything of value from Darth Andeddu, Lady Styx?" Darth Cocytus said coldly as he eyed her. His anger radiated from his being intensely, relishing the power of the Dark Side after his facade with the Jedi Master. "You make me proud seeking knowledge on your own initiative, but that was risky and your impatience nearly ruined everything. Luke sensed something was up. He almost sensed you . Prepare your things. We have things to do on Korriban and later Mustafar. The time has finally come to begin your training."

@Sinrebirth

 

Combo post with both Sinrebirth and Lady Belligerent!

IC: Vyatoris/Azeth Drost
Hyperspace

Vyatoris simply nodded in affirmation to the praise, it was to be expected, after all. At least to him, it appeared as if the other's had failed their tasks, it was only natural that he would be granted some sort of boon for his work..

He cleared his throat. "With that out of the way.. I'm going to find somewhere quiet to rest.. Give a yell if anyone needs me!" He said to no one in particular, taking the time to walk down a nearby corridor. As he distanced himself from the others, his datapad would once again reemerge from his robes, deft fingers tapping away at its interface. He would sleep, in time, but before that, there was one lone wriggling thought he couldn't quite dismiss..

He turned into an unoccupied storage room, finding a space to sit down in the the far corner. Vyatoris retrieved two handheld holoprojectors and set them on top of a plasteel crate in front of him. On one, he loaded a small reel of footage from the recording he had shown the others, and on the other, a still image of Darth Kronos, which he had taken some time earlier. Vyatoris steepled his fingers together, furrowing his brow. Something about the Kronos on Kamino seemed ever so slightly off.. but he couldn't quite put a finger on what..

Vyatoris leaned closer to the two recordings, his face shifting between the two. There's something about.. the chin..maybe the mouth? Of the Kamino-Kronos.. It's not quite a perfect match.. Odd. So, either Darth Kronos is an imperfect clone, which is unlikely from everything I've heard about Kaminoan cloning standards.. Or the self-proclaimed "True-Kronos" is a lie.. He sighed raised a hand to rub at his temple.

Yet another mystery to solve.. His thoughts were interrupted by a resounding yawn, a yawn which seemed to open the floodgates which had kept at bay his general exhaustion. He groaned, shifting his weight to get more comfortable against the wall. I 'spose a quick nap wouldn't hurt.. I've certainly earned that much..

With his final waking moments, Vyatoris switched off the two holoprojectors, extinguishing the only light which illuminated the cold storage room, instantly blanketing himself in darkness as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness..

Hello, Vyatoris. The voice emerged from his subconscious, almost immediately. It was the so-called True Kronos, appearing in a black cloak and with his chin evident. Indeed, it was not quite that of Darth Kronos, again the oddity of him supposedly being a clone.

They swam into existence on a world that was blindingly familiar; it was the tavern from before, where the cloaked man had started the chain of events that would lead him to being trapped for a thousand years, awakening after the defeat of the Sith - to meet another group of Sith.

I was conceived here, too, would you believe. So I am as much from this time, as you. The others, the Sith you walk with, they are not of this realm. They are heresies, every single one of them. Their existence is a terrible lie.

A soft chuckle.

You nearly died today; for what? Yet again, the True Sith are defeated and you achieve nothing.

Vyatoris "awoke" to find himself in a rapidly familiar location, that of a dreary tavern in a bygone era. Directly in front stood the same black cloaked figure from his memories, only now being recognized as the self-proclaimed "True Kronos".

Vyatoris took a moment to glance around the room, saving each detail for later recollection. He tilted his head back towards the figure, displeasure evident on his face. "I'm certainly seeing you a lot recently..." His voice trailed off, realization beginning to dawn upon him. "..And your schemes go farther back than initially believed.. Troubling.."

Vyatoris began moving, a meandering walk, about the room, never taking his gaze off of Kronos. "It would appear we are sibling in time then, both destined to walk in places far away from home.." His brow furrowed. "As for these Sith.." He paused, offering a modest shrug. "Perhaps they are, perhaps not. Considering my circumstances, it's difficult to cast judgement.."

He sighed, more out of fatigue than annoyance. "All for nothing, it would seem. Yeah, I collected some interesting data, but nothing that could not have been gathered over years of study. So, what was it all for? I imagine you have some ideas on the matter.. It may not be very Sith of me, but the Jedi had a belief that I've since struggled to shake, which involved letting the force itself take you where it wanted, to go with the flow, if you will." A faint smile grew on his lips. "You're right, to a degree. These Sith have failed me, and themselves, repeatedly. So, let's get down to business. What can you offer?"

I can offer the truth, or, rather, a memory...

Mist surrounded them, and it revealed Sith; some that Vyatoris had spent limited time with, or had potentially read dossiers on. Darth Bellorum, one third of the scattered Triumvirate, and Ike, the foppish spouse of Darth Insipid. They were standing over paired cradles, Ike looking vaguely repulsed by the babies.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ike glanced over at the woman, cautiously.

“I’m positive,” Bellorum said softly as she stared at the two infants, “I mean, I know I’m not really maternal, but I’ve always wanted a child, and it’s convenient how these just fell into my possession.”

One of the babies startled and wriggled tiny fingers, then whimpered. Bellorum held a finger to her lips and tugged Ike away from the cribs. The room was divided by a screen that depicted a colony of insectoids carrying colorful fruits across a mountain range. Past the screen was a low table where Bellorum had placed a bottle of wine and two delicate glasses, “will you pour?” She asked Ike before settling into a chair.

Vyatoris simply grunted in response, crossing his arms across his chest as the world around him seemingly drifted away, as if carried on some unseen wind. A moment passed in mild discomfort, and then, he was back, this time in an unknown environment, surrounded by vaguely familiar faces. Those faces all belonging to high ranking members of the old Triumvirate.

There's.. Was it Lady Bellorum? Yes, indeed, and then.. that must be.. Ike, I believe.. His attire sure seems familiar.. odd.. The Miraluka scratched at his chin, moving in a half semi-circle around the group to get a better look at them. Where have I..

Vyatoris glanced back towards True-Kronos for the briefest moment with a raised brow, before turning his attention back towards the scene before him.

The faintest wisp of a memory tugged at his subconscious, urged on by the sight of Ike. Tattered clothes, an onslaught of unspeakable monstrosities, the wails of the dead or dying, all under torrential rivers of blood.. Bedlam.. He was there.. We were there..!

And then it was gone, a errant thought lost and replaced by new, burning questions.

His hand moved to his temple, rubbing at the dull ache which seemed to radiate from inside. "When is this Kronos? And whose memory does this come from?"

It's my memory. From my own past. I had to find out what happened... to us.

The Holocron of Soa spoke up from the table. The small, red-skinned Rakata projection was displeased. "Should we really combine alcohol with a Sith ritual?"

Ike tutted. "The best Sith rituals involve alcohol." He poured them their drinks, eyeing the Dagger of Mortis they had lying beside the Holocron. "It's been a long time."

Bellorum's power had increased by using the techniques of Soa to drain various Sith artefacts into Bellorum. Her body had adapted, but it had been a dangerous technique, only used so that Bellorum could stand against Haretisch and Insipid.

The Dagger, they had stolen from their Mortis, back in their timeline.

Ike glared at Soa. "Show us how to do it.

Vyatoris raised an eyebrow. "So you say.."

Heapproached the table, fascinated by the ancient holocron presented. He had never seen such a creature before, and judging by the apparent age of the holocron, neither had anyone else for a very long time.

"...And you've conveniently ignored my question. How recent of a memory is this..?" He said, eyeing the dagger curiously. The question was a simple one, with a disguised agenda. While he would like to have some sort of coherent timeline to work with, Vyatoris' main goal was to simply narrow down who might be the mole within the current Sith. He doubted that there were many with such.. intimate knowledge of the top brass.

Of course, that was irrelevant if this Kronos was simply creating another web of lies. It was just as likely that Kronos had simply stolen these memories from a completely innocent Sith, as if those words could ever be uttered without some hint of irony.

"What sort of ritual are they speaking of? And more importantly, has it been restricted to just Bellorum?"

To whomever has the Holocron of Soa, of course. It is an ancient technique; a dangerous one, of course. A derivative of Force Walking...

Otherwise, True-Kronos huffed. This memory is only a year and a half ago.


Bellorum laughed, but not quite loud enough to wake the children, “dear Soa,” Bellorum asked, “were you this surly when you were younger?”

She picked up the dagger and turned it in the light. It was beautiful and it felt alive as she held it in her hands, “how old is this thing?” She’d murmured the question and didn’t expect an answer. “Come on, Ike,” she spoke up and placed the dagger back on the table, “let’s toast your new niece and nephew,” she smiled and took her glass. “We will have heirs, and they will be more powerful than those who donated the DNA to conceive them!”

Only a year and a half ago hmm? Well.. It would narrow the list of suspects down.. If of course I had any practical knowledge of the relationship between the three leaders of the Sith.. He grumbled to himself. Why am *I* the one being shown this?

Vyatoris wandered over to the cradles, taking a cursory look at the infants rested inside. ..And what's with the talk of heirs? I was under the impression none of the Triumvirate had heirs..

He twitched, the drop of a familiar name sparking an internal debate. Esmerelda, the Kronos I've worked with has a.. relationship of sorts with her.. Could the realization of this memory wipe be what turned him against the Sith..? But.. No.. Kronos and "True-Kronos" are separate beings.. Right? Vyatoris turned back to face the hooded figure once more, staring hard at that infuriating off-putting chin, a single question burning hotter than any other.

Perhaps this memory wipe wasn't as permanent as Ike had hoped..

Why not show you the sins of your masters? They created your enemy, no? Can you not see how it connects?

Ike carried on. "You're doing something I genuinely consider to be dangerous. Especially the plan to rush their age."

"Those doctors on Bedlam can make them stable, no?" Soa sad, cutting at the Vizier. "Besides, as long as they can be directed at our enemies - at Insipid, at Haretisch - who cares? They can explode when they are done. Insipid and Haretisch are more powerful than you, probably even Bellorum, no?"

"So you need to create proxies to do your fighting for you," the Holocron turned back to Bellorum, clearly seeking to convince her.

Ike, in response, turned back to her, more alcohol in hand. "You're gonna do it anyway, but I wanted to be able to say it."

“They are not more powerful than me!” Bellorum shouted at Soa. Crimson bolts encircled her hand shattering the crystal goblet she’d just been drinking from. Bellorum slammed her fist down on the table causing the holocron to vibrate, and sounds of a baby crying came from the other side of the screen. She sighed heavily and waved her hand as if not to be bothered by the cries, “Ike, I don’t need your support to do this,” her eyes said otherwise as she gazed at her friend, “but, I do want you on my side.” She lifted her hand and summoned a glass from a nearby cabinet and poured more wine, completely ignoring blood dripping from her hand, and the crystal shards and stain on the floor.

“I believe if we perform the ritual now, and then have their growth accelerated, they can be ‘programmed’ during their training to love and protect me. I’ve provided hours of vids of myself speaking and in various activities for that use. What could possibly go wrong?”

She was convinced that wanting these children was purely for practical use, but there was a nagging feeling that maybe she just wanted a connection with someone. It was a thought that she quickly buried, she didn’t need anyone.

Ike nodded along. "Alright, I'll support you." He drew the Mortis Dagger to his hand, and Ike looked at the babies, nicked one by the palm, a slight dab, and allowing the droplets to rest on the blade itself. They both cried out, and the ersatz Kronos chuckled.

I still have the scar.

Soa gestured the blade to be passed to Bellorum.

"With the blood, you can form the connection to the artefact, and drain it." A hologrammic gesture to Ike. "You will stabilise the power transfer by holding the stream of energy together; visualise it as connection of chains that needs to be maintained; Lady Bellorum," Soa hesitated. "You will give the Dagger the push to divert power to the children."

"Like a kind of diffusion," Ike said, slowly.

"Precisely," Soa agreed. "To forge the connection, we merely need the words.

Chains forged, chains become,
Power shared, power undone,
Two becomes one,
One becomes none."

Ike nodded. "I don't want any of the power," he emphasised.

"Then don't take it," Soa snapped. "Lady Bellorum, your power will be needed to push..."

Interesting little ritual, isn't it? It essentially requires the artifact to be destroyed once the power has been shifted, so it might not flow back. Though the Mortis Dagger, its is incredibly powerful. When complete, the ritual will birth two powerful Force users, who are highly malleable, and, thanks to the growth acceleration techniques of the Kaminoans... will become fully functional adults in a matter of months. Imagine their power...

Imagine how unhinged they will be?

Imagine what we will do to you?

Those words were directly fully at Vyatoris.

Vyatoris simply raised an eyebrow at the figure's remark. Seems my previous Esmerelda assumption was indeed presumptuous after all.. But I cannot move too hastily with this information.. I've already overplayed my hand once..

The Miraluka leaned in closer, taking mental notes of each and every aspect of the ritual taking place before him. Such a ritual could provide a certain usefulness, in times of great need. He wasn't a fan of the requirement of sacrificing a priceless Sith artifact however. That being said, the possibilities gained from such a ritual were endless indeed. He held beck a sly grin, in some vain attempt to remain visibly stoic.

He sure did enjoy a good experiment or three..

Vyatoris tilted his head back towards "Kronos", a puzzled look growing on his face. "While I'm very flattered, I think you're giving me just a tiny bit too much credit here. I'm just as likely to die here in some critical engineering malfunction as I am to these.." He paused gesturing with a disdainful wave towards the two infants. "Things. As for unhinged.. You seem to forget. I was the apprentice of the late Darth Ravenous. I doubt anything you or your compatriots could concoct would reach the same levels of his madness..."

He ran a hand through his shoulder length silver hair, eyeing the group wearily. "Truth be told, I've survived this long through seemingly dumb luck." He said, his tone showing just a hint of hidden exhaustion. "Nothing really goes to plan these days anyways right? Either your group wins, or Insipid's does. I'm just here to learn what I can, and find a nice hole afterwards to survive the fallout. Your squabbles are meaningless to me.."

Vyatoris so very wanted to believe in those words, that the conflict around him meant nothing, but that wasn't entirely true. There was some part of him which enjoyed where he was, who he was with, the role he played. But he was tired, tired of constantly having to fight his way out of situations he didn't want to be in in the first place, tired of constant near death experiences which amounted to nothing, and tired of having success taken away at the last moment. The stress, as much as he hated to admit it, had created cracks in his armor, tiny imperfections which could threaten near total collapse if struck the wrong way.

And it was getting harder to hide it.

"So. What do you want me to do?"

I want you to turn on the others at the critical moment, and leave. Insipid won't let you go. He's too invested in his plans and schemes. The only way for you to escape is to end his charade. I intend to do that, but I have no interest in your fate save for what it can do in the final moment. Leave, vanish, whatever you see it. Recover from your stressful battle at Bedlam, the one where you nearly died, repeatedly, if you wish.

A soft chuckle.

The moment between Bellorum, Ike and the twins was played out sufficently for Vyatoris to get it.

They used the Mortis Dagger, Soa's ritual, brainwashing techniques, and mad, bad science to create two quickly-made, powerful twin Force users, and Bellorum wasn't here anymore.

At what point the twin children of Kronos and Esmerelda went mad wasn't really relevant.

But if you ever call me Sian, I will kill you on sight.

With that, the vision-dream ended.

His surroundings slowly drained away, losing all sense of detail or characteristics. A moment later, he was back in the real world, back in the shadows of the storage room.

So that's how it is, huh..? His head dropped back against the ship's durasteel wall with a dull thud. What a mess...

Vyatoris sighed heavily, stifling a yawn. There would be no time for sleep today, not with thoughts like these racing through his head. The room suddenly became illuminated in a soft, green glow, indicative of a notification from his datapad.

He glanced down at it for a moment, before shaking his head as it disappeared back within his robes.

What a mess indeed..

Tag: @Sinrebirth @Lady Belligerent

@Darth Kronos, GM imposed side-TAG.

 

Darth Cocytus
Dark Lord Ascending Part 4

Cocytus tilted his head at his Apprentice and blinked in thought. The Rule of Two, a failure? Nonsense. It was Darth Sidious's arrogance that made it go wrong. There was nothing wrong with the tenants themselves, and Cocytus sought to remedy what ruined it in the end.

"Darth Andeddu offered you unlimited power in exchange for my life?" Said with a thin smile as he watched her leave the room, "Yet you haven't taken up his offer, have you? Clearly Darth Andeddu would know that a mere initiate such as yourself would stand no chance against my might over the Dark Side. No. You are not ready, but one day you will be, and once I fall to your blade, you will be Master of our Order, such is the way of the Rule of Two..."

Once Styx was gone, Cocytus craned his head towards the Holocron. The Kaminoan snatched it up in a tight grip with his robotic hand. He will have to speak to the Ancient Sith Lord himself on the way to Korriban. Clearly Andeddu would see reason once told of the current state of the Sith.

Cocytus went to his own chambers and collected his things, including a communication device. It would be good to keep tabs between himself and the Prime Minister in case anything unforeseen should happen. Once satisfied, Cocytus left the chambers and joined Styx aboard the shuttle.

As the shuttle rose in the sky, eventually leaving the atmosphere, Cocytus put in the coordinates to Korriban. Once in hyperspace, the Kaminoan got himself settled and sat down at a desk where the Holocron of Darth Andeddu sat alone. The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed as he placed a hand upon the Holocron and closing his eyes intensely, called upon the Dark Side of the Force. Pouring out his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate the entire Galaxy under Sith Rule, Darth Cocytus sought to force the Holocron to give up its secrets and knowledge.

"Darth Andeddu if only you knew the state of the Sith!" Cocytus sneered with all of his cold anger and bitter hatred, "Insipid and his Sith pretenders have brought greater ruin upon the Order! He has created a second 'Brotherhood of Darkness' except he hands out the title Darths to so many members as if its candy! Power isn't given like Insipid thinks! Or how you offered Styx! For a Sith, power is taken!"

@Sinrebirth


Sent from my SM-J327V using Tapatalk

 

GM UPDATE

IC: Plo Wanderguard — Taris

The Dark Dreamer decanted from hyperspace above Taris - the once shining jewel of the outer rim. There was a time when Taris had rivaled even Coruscant, situated at a nexus of hyperspace routes collectively important enough to make it a major hub of trade and commerce. The whole planet had once been one big city, or at least its landmasses had been. Most of the planet surface was watery, in fact, with the city’s billions of residents fed by the massive kelp farms which dotted its unspoiled oceans.

Taris was a long way from that now. It had been the usual story, one told and repeated many times, on many planets, since time immemorial - the greed of the few had grown beyond that which was sustainable. Better hyperlanes had been found, influenced by the core worlds aiming to keep their status. Money became more scarce. As commerce waned, the upper classes of Taris turned to industrialization in their never ending quest for more. The oceans became polluted and toxic, and could no longer serve as the primary food source they had been for centuries. Many starved as the rich hoarded what resources remained, and Taris fell into chaos and disorder.

When, during the Jedi Civil War, Darth Malak ordered an orbital bombardment of Taris in an attempt to kill Bastila Shan, a near-fatal blow had been struck. When the dust settled, only a few hundred people remained of what had been an ecumenopolis. A silence fell over planet, lasting many years.

That had been nearly two thousand years ago, and while Taris had been successfully recolonized in the years after the bombardment, it had never returned to its former glory. Nor would it, even in another two thousand years, but that didn’t matter now.

Though much of the planet’s surface still lay in ruins, a significant portion of the largest landmass had been successfully rebuilt. It was much the same as before, but only in the worst ways. The skies were still polluted and slippery gray, and the rich still remained lording over the planet from towering skyscrapers. City streets were built into the gaps between, suspended like a canopy over a shadowy durasteel jungle below. The darkness and the air grew thicker with the crime as one descended into the lower levels. Those relegated to the ground level had likely never seen natural light but for a dim orange glow, filtered through the cracks of the city’s many upper levels and the smog which hung in the air like a sickness. The haze of pollution above mingled with a vile miasma of death and human effluence below.

In short, Taris would be a welcome improvement over Nal Hutta.

“Welcome to Taris, everyone,” Plo announced on the bridge as he gazed out of the viewport at the faded world. The trip had taken three days. He had requested they all be here for arrival - Syren, Anark, Aryan, Bellorum, and Ike. Jerod was here by default, of course. “We have a lot to do. Syren, please retrieve our guide. See that he’s awake, alert, and dressed to go planetside within the hour.”

In the ship’s lavish spa, Vex Nolzit floated in a bacta tank which he hadn’t left for the entire three day journey. He was hooked to an oxygen mask, of course, but otherwise unadorned. He had also been sedated for the entire trip - but with the help of the ship’s doctors the anesthesia had been properly timed to be wearing off just about now. His wounds would be mostly healed now, apart from some soreness and, more than likely, a profound level of fatigue from the rapid healing.

“Aryan, you’ll accompany me and the others into the city once we know where exactly we’re going. I’m sure there’ll be some infiltrating to do and you may be able to talk us into where we need to go,” Plo went on. “Bellorum, Anark, and Ike will go in with Jerod - don’t be far from the ship, but be somewhere that you can make it to us quickly or create a distraction if needed.”

Just then, a voice came from the console to hail the ship.

This is Taris Customs, spaceport terminal #156B. Be advised no non-scheduled arrivals are permitted to land due to planetwide lockdown. State your business.

A planetwide lockdown. That could be good or bad. Something big was happening on Taris, obviously.

“Jerod,” Plo lowered his voice. “Get us on that planet, no matter what you have to tell them. Everyone else, get yourselves situated. We leave the ship in an hour.”

TAG: @HanSolo29, @QueenSabe7, @Snokers, @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @Lady Belligerent, @Sinrebirth, @Quinlan Vos

OOC: Syren is on a combo with Vex, Syren start. Jerod is on a combo with me, Jerod starts. Everyone else single post this week and then next week we’ll pick up the pace.

 

Vyatoris/Azeth Drost
Kesh

The remainder of the journey through hyperspace had been generally uneventful. Spare a brief flash of rage, coming from Vyatoris believed to be Soliloquy, the ride was silent, save from a single loose wire dangling from the cargo hold's ceiling which sparked at apparent random intervals. The Miraluka was a mess, put simply. Exhausted both mentally and physically, from trauma both known and unknown, Vyatoris was surprised to find himself still standing, let alone coherent..

Well.. coherent is a bit of a stretch..

Vyatoris sighed wearily. There was simply too much on his plate. Too many allegiances, too many plans, and far too many betrayals, current or future. And if he did what he was told to do, his betrayal would outdo all others..

He found himself holding his face within his hands, trembling. He had lied to Sian, somewhat, when it came to his feelings towards Insipid and his Sith. Yes, ultimately he did want to be left to his own devices, to research or discovery at his own pace, But, inexorably, Vyatoris had found a home, a place which accepted him in some way or another. For the first time in his life, he was apart of something he felt he belonged in, where he didn't need to hide himself..

Vyatoris dropped his head backwards, his skull thumping softly against the cool durasteel wall of the cargo hold. Yet, everything which had gone wrong in recent memory could be traced back to the Emperor. Including.. what happened before their arrival on Kesh.

No matter my actions, I trade one master for another.. Again. A sudden lurch of the ship ended Vyatoris' ruminations. They had exited hyperspace, it was time.

For a moment, the Miraluka's perception of the force shifted, as if a sheet had been lifted from his proverbial eyes. Insipid was nearby, as were the auras of his cohorts, some of whom he was familiar with, that of Bernael and Manticore. Vyatoris shuddered unconsciously. He had forgotten the searing brightness that was Insipid's presence through the force, an apt reminder of who he had been ordered to betray.

He shook his head firmly. Those were deliberations for another time, another place. For now, he raised his own mental barriers, clouding his thoughts within the appearance of that of a rambling fool, his surface thoughts racing about with little meaning. Unless actively probed, his inner turmoils should be kept a secret from his superiors..

A powerful yawn erupted from his throat. But for how long can I keep up the charade? He thought, miserably.

Without ceremony, Vyatoris felt the trajectory of the vessel shift, a signal that they had begun their landing sequence. Once more into the breach..

A few minutes later, and they had landed. Once more rejoined with their fellow Sith. But for how long?

Vyatoris slowly made his way to the exit ramp, taking the time to collect any hints of his stay on the ship, including any data he had presented to the group assigned to the Kamino mission. Such information could not be left idly, especially now.

By the time he had gathered his gear, the rest of his former group had already departed, no doubt speaking with Emperor Insipid, who had had sensed approach. With heavy footfalls, Vyatoris stepped down the ramp, and into the bright sunlight of Kesh.

He relished the warmth of the sun, it's glow being much preferred the sodden nightmare that was Kamino. A whisp of a smile flashed across his face. Yes, Somewhere warm.. That's where I'll go..

And then the emotions were gone, secreted away from public eye beneath his shroud of fleeting thoughts. Wordlessly, Vyatoris took his place behind his group, who were all standing and/or kneeling in front of Insipid and his group.

Vyatoris listened intently to Insipid's semi-debriefing, or at least he earnestly tried to. Something was nagging at him. An insignificant wriggling of oddness which seemed to permeate the air. Something about the city was off.. but what?

He glanced around, seeing nothing which would illicit such a feeling.. Wait.. A sudden thought momentarily rose through his mental shroud. It's quiet.. The Keshiri are.. quiet? But why..?

He shuddered involuntarily, his mind's eye forcibly transported somewhere within the city.

And then he saw.

Vyatoris saw the reason for the stillness. Siam was here.

Now you can see why I put you away for so long, no? So that you would be right here, and right now. It's up to you what you say, and don't say. He said, staring holes through the back of Vyatoris' skull.

That voice... I-it was you? A single tear rolled down the Miraluka's cheek, a lone hint of the madness threatening to rip its host apart from the inside.

And then it was gone. As suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone.

Vyatoris, grumbled quietly to himself, annoyed to suddenly find his tear ducts leaking. Perhaps I'm allergic to something.. Odd.

He glanced towards Bernael and spoke. "The Keshiri crowned the Sith as Protectors due to our perceived strength, correct?" He paused, taking a moment to glance at his surroundings. "Perhaps, in our absence.. something stronger has made its presence known to them.."


Tags: @Sinrebirth , @darthbernael , @Mitth_Fisto (mentioned briefly)

 

IC: Serapis
Hapan Queen's throne room

Serapis heard the Queen Mothers words and sighed internally. He spoke to Rendorr, "You see what has become of this woman? We have two that could fill her place easily and would bring peace."

No response was forthcoming, yet Serapis could sense he was reluctant.

"You must know she needs to die."

Again, silence from the guard's consciousness.

"Rendorr, we need to kill the Matriarch. Just allow me to..." yet as he tried to move the guards arm, it was met with resistance. So, this weak individual is trying to resist. The teamwork was over.

Renn was leading the two daughters out of the room to hash it out. He could see the Matriarch's fear in her eyes.

Serapis turned inward again. He had gained a bit of strength in the intervening moments and could now see he could take this body as his own. If he consumed Rendorr's consciousness, he would have the strength he needed to continue on his own. He "saw" the guard in front of him, resisting him. With a thought, he merged with him, taking him over. Serapis felt a bit weaker after the effort, but, now, felt whole. He was Serapis. He was Rendorr. He was fully in control of the guard's body and breathing normally.

"Queen Mother, as my friend has said, your time is at an end." He glanced at the guard's sidearm. No mess. He reached out with his mind to try to choke her as Vader had so many times, but he was too weak, for now. Old style it was, then. He walked to the throne, took her neck in his hand, and with very little effort, snapped her neck.

The deed was done. And surprisingly easily, too.

He turned and walked back to the antechamber where they were discussing succession as the Matriarch's body slid to the floor.

Tags: @darthbernael, @Sinrebirth, @darthhelinith, @Snokers

 

Darth Cocytus
Dark Lord Ascending Part 5
Trial of a Sith Lord

Anger and rage boiled inside the kaminoan as he felt mocked by the Holocron. It was bad enough that one holocron was a thorn in his side already, but it was close to two now. Yet Cocytus stuck to his beliefs, knowing full well that the Ancient Sith Lord was nothing more than a fool. “You know nothing, Darth Andeddu!” the Cocytus snapped back coldly clenching and shaking his fists, “You learned nothing! After countless millennia, who ultimately destroyed the Republic? Who overthrew the Jedi, tearing their Order to sunder? Not a legion of Sith, but a thousand year lineage of only two that slowly infiltrated the Republic, while using it’s politicians as tools, just as I am doing, and preying upon the Jedi’s complacency! It was Darth Sidious’s madness and arrogance, his foolish and idiotic love of Super Weapons that tore down all that he built! I seek not to make the same mistakes he has made!”

“I will make right what went wrong,” Cocytus insisisted, “using that fool Skywalker to wage war against Insipid, weakening both, while a new power rises with the largest battle fleet and army to ever rage across the Galaxy and sweep them both aside in a New Clone War! A Second Galactic Empire will rise, ruled by an endless lineage of Sith that goes all the way to Darth Bane himself! I will finish everything in his name!”

However, for all Cocytus’s words, he had to admit that Darth Andeddu was right about one thing. The Sith Kaminoan didn’t kill his master, Darth Hesper, who went missing during the Battle of Zakuul. He swore long ago that he would destroy her and yet he failed. The ultimate failure of any appreciate. It was something that he regretted most in his life as a Sith Lord and a shame that actually did bring his claim of being heir of Darth Bane to question now that Cocytus thought about it. “If she survived, it was not my fault that my master cowardly decided to go AWOL!” he sneered as he looked around the arena he now found himself in before staring at the illusion of his former master. his eyes narrowed and glared with intense hatred and anger of bitter cold towards both Darth Andeddu's mockery and towards himself for his own failures. His hand went for one of his twin lightsabers, “But if I must in order to solidify my claim to Darth Bane’s legacy I will hunt her down and destroy her as every apprentice must… starting with you, impostor!”

Cocytus ignited his crimson blade and swiftly got into a Sorseu battle stance in act of challenge and readiness to stand against the trial Darth Andeddu laid out for him.

@Sinrebirth

(Collab?)

 

IC: Soliloquy
Standing on Kesh

Standing there, listening to the others. Listening to silence. He held his pieces of the puzzle tightly, coveting the very precious value of them as his one short apprentice spilled his. As his other stood as evidence, and the truth, the truth stood in abject silence. Evidence was littered about them, but all were blind by the present pressure of reality, the need to be and to be heard. And so he was not, he was mute, was listening to the voices without and the voices within. The day was bright and yet the darkness, the darkness was deep. They stood over a fathom and then, and then the surface tension broke.

The missing Keshiri were evidence as the glass palace became a storm of fiery shards aimed at them. Raw power, agitated froth of power and darkness. His one Apprentice he felt no danger toward yet, and so ignored him. His chosen jewel in the rough, Shimmer was not so lucky. Nor her mothers mother. Only he didn't care for Esmerelda, not truly, and the truth of danger was a better pull than any he could muster without a body of evidence splayed before him. So he threw a barrier, a patchwork of Force and will that made a wall impenetrable between him and the glass of pure energy and bended reality. He had quickly moved to Shimmer, to protect her as well as she fell like a doll with strings cut. The Shards would shatter and be driven to the ground around them on all sides. Creating a veritable shard wall about them if the torrent continued long enough.

Pulling that cord, that tugging line, he slid into Shimmer's mind. The sacrifice of Kronos and the pieces shared were enough, enough for this. 'Shimmer. Shimmer? Remember the ship? The lesson to repair, to use whatever you had and the Force to supplement what you do not? Remember the being that I freed you from? Remember holding on to me to save you, and I not only did but have given you tools to save yourself. Remember?'

He shifted, a shadow in her mind. 'You are bond to another, they are like a ship. Harder, powerful beyond your own abilities. To fight straight up would be suicide. But as you are bound so are they. If stronger one must rely on wit and craft, a better crafted rope can beat a dull blade no matter the power of the arm behind it. In learning to fix you learned the breaking points as well. Now - Visualize the ship, you are inside it. You must destroy the computers with a power surge. Cause an emergency clamp of the fuel lines to starve it from the inside out seizing the engines. Find the power core and drain it into yourself. Remember your connection to me. If it is too much, pass it, whole or part and I will help you. Even now I am the strength of awareness in the dream. You must act quickly, or the ship will defend against you, act all at once if able, but quickly. Use the Force. Trust the Force. The Force will be with you my child, as will the Darkness, that is me."

TAG: @Sinrebirth , @ Kesh bound

 

GM UPDATE


IC: Loslo - Maltha Obex, H’balax Space Station

I know they are near. I have seen it. The ripples in the force.

“Undying one,” he pleaded, trembling from his knees as a gray tentacle writhed, snaking around to the back of his neck where one barbed sucker caressed his flesh. The Undying could see his thoughts. It could see his mind, his heart, it knew he did not lie. “The instrument of their capture is in place as you have willed. They have only to walk into the trap, but... my lord, they leave only destruction in their wake. Do you invite our demise?”

The voice of Ren echoed in his mind, like something worming away between his ears.

Your faith in the Undying falters, Loslo. Always have I kept you and yours from harm, and yet you DOUBT DOUBT DOUBT DOUBT DOUBT doubt doubt doubt...

With that, Loslo threw himself on his face to worship, begging profusely for forgiveness. “My Lord Ren, mercy, I am unworthy, I am unclean,” he sobbed.

All are unclean. All are unworthy. And yet I am forgiveness. I am wisdom. And I have chosen you, Loslo, as my high priest.”

The Undying, Ren, was suspended a short distance away, in the body of what had once been a man. White skin was stretched taut across ancient bones, eyes wide and milky white, head flung back and rotting mouth agape in still and silent agony. What had once been limbs were now trunks of quivering gray biomass, stretching out to the walls where each broke into smaller veins and punctured the durasteel. Further tributaries of these veins snaked throughout the paneling, in and out, while a hideous braid of the same gray flesh sprouted from the body’s back and sides to embed in the wall.

Loslo lifted himself, looking up with red, tear-stained eyes. “Thank you, Undying one. My divine god, my beloved Lord Ren. Your Empire reigns. What else would you have me do?”

Xiaozhan has declared himself and his fiefdom free of my dominion. Crush him.

Loslo bowed again until his forehead touched the floor. His words came muffled, but it didn’t matter. Ren knew his mind and his heart.

“It will be done.”

TAG: No one

 

IC: Anark
Aboard The Dark Dreamer, Taris Orbit

The Collective provided a loud and seemingly never ending commentary, where just days before they had fallen silent for a time; mostly they spoke of the girl, Ami. Anark’s brow twitched. Where was she?

And why did he yearn to know?

The Sith, tangled and tortured in a sticky web of erratic thoughts, cracked his knuckles and shook his head rapidly from side to side, casting a light spray onto the ground at his feet as his jowls quivered.

He listened to Plo’s announcement, it was all he could do to refrain from sighing aloud when he saw Taris make itself known outside the viewport – if his lungs hadn’t already taken enough of a bashing in the burning bazaar on Nal Hutta, they certainly would on this gods forsaken rock.

When Plo had finished doling out instructions Anark was approached by the one person at the gathering he just couldn’t feign politeness to.

"Not-so-pretty boy, this will be fun. If you happen to find a reason to shank Jerod, could you do me a favour?”

Anark’s yellow eyes shifted robotically from Ike to Jerod and then back to Ike.

"Without jeopardising our mission of course." The smug look Insipid’s former lover wore made Anark want to tear his face off with his bare hands.

‘Patience,’ came a quiet voice from within, ‘patience, and it will be so much sweeter.’

Lord Anark grinned dreamily at Ike before adopting an all-business posture, fingers entwined behind his back.

“I do not shank,” he returned, “I much prefer to… carve.”

A melodic whistle escaped him and he let his eyes settle on Ike for just long enough to send a message before turning and taking his leave.

TAG: @Darth_wanderguard @Lady Belligerent @Sinrebirth @QueenSabe7 @Quinlan Vos @Jerjerrod-Lennox @HanSolo29​

 

IC: Manticore
Gauntlet at Kesh



The others.They talked, like they always did. By now he knew to listen to them, however, he turned his attention towards the City.

No Keshiri were coming to greet them. The Protectors. They were all, apprehensive.

Afraid.

He could feel it. The shift in the Force, the darkside charging, building. Within himself, he responded in kind.

Something’s not right.

The living sith holocron, Soliloquy. It was here, and it had gained an Apprentice. Shimmer. Most curious. There was talk of Kronos, who was absent, but his companion, Esmeralda, she was present - as was her….no, they may look ‘alike’, but they certainly did not feel the same.Was this a conundrum of the Force?

The miraluka, Vyatoris. It seemed the Sith Emperor Insipid was pleased with him. Bernael had news from the Hapan mission field. Leda kept her own counsel.

Another sith sought to reestablish the Rule of Two, essentially laying the ground work for a Sith War in this time.

Utter foolishness, but so be it. The zabrak spat bitterly in his mind.

Skywalker was guaranteed to be a thorn in their side and needed to be dealt with sooner or later.

Now that, would be an unequaled pleasure.

That was a somewhat pleasing thought that quickly vanished.

His eyes narrowing to slits, Manticore turned fully, facing the city.

The miraluka seemed a bit disquieted. Did he sense the shift as well?

Aye, his words were almost confirmation.

“The Keshiri crowned the Sith as Protectors due to our perceived strength, correct?" He paused, taking a moment to glance at his surroundings. "Perhaps, in our absence.. something stronger has made its presence known to them..”

“Something…stronger?”

Even Darth Insipid echoed those very words.

Then the Force flared with incredible power and there was a shattering, immense and loud. Manticore started as he saw the palace shatter and become a storm of glass daggers; They’d become a veritable torrent of lethal missiles that were not just shattered, but also heated through a great exertion in the force.

Not unlike a certain battle that took place in a Kuati Hotel.

"Attack incoming!" A shout rang out.

The Darkside of the Force roared as Manticore sought to mount a well crafted defense. He was confident that he could command the heat to be snuffed-out through sheer will and his Mastery over Flames. As for the torrent of glass, to that end he called upon his vast knowledge of telekinesis and tutaminis. Through the Force, he formed a giant wedge to part the incoming turret, just as one would part a mighty river; through tutaminis, he sought to buffer the immense force of the glass storm.

The initial impact was so powerful, that it sent a massive shockwave that caused the zabrak to nearly lose his footing entirely, before taking nearly a dozen steps backwards in order to root himself in place. The excess energy instantly shredded his vestments and lacerated his skin in many places. Yet still, he remained defiant and resolute.

“We are ALL monsters here!”

He shouted vehemently through the darkside, even as he began to push the Force wedge forward, fully intent on diverting the incoming avalanche.



Tag: @Sinrebirth, @darthbernael, @QueenSabe7, @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough