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

IC: Leda
Kesh

Leda swallowed uncomfortably, curled into a ball on her bed. The Force was rolling with shock and heightened awareness – being sensitive to it at first, it was a tad disorienting to her mind, swimming as it was trying to acclimate to her new surroundings.

Where was everyone else?

Squinting against the insanely bright lighting of the room, her eyes managed to find Lord Manticore unexpectedly making his way towards her. It being an instinctual habit to obey proper protocol, as he did outrank her by several kilometers, she unfurled herself and pushed back to a sitting position immediately despite injury. Gritting her teeth against the painful muscle spasms that followed, he stopped in front of her at such a close proximity that it spurred her to straighten further, so much so that she felt her spine crack in several places as she craned her neck back to keep her gaze upon his.

If he was weakened at all from his time in carbonite freeze, it was not apparent in the Force. He was pure darkness, a veritable wrecking ball of power befitting his reputation.

It was breathtaking.

“Take it,” he commanded simply, and her brows knotted in confusion before she glanced down to see the bottle of water he was holding out for her.

“Oh my stars,” she exclaimed, snatching it from his hand and impatiently tearing the top off. Leda drank deeply, water dripping from the corners of her mouth and down her chin as she consumed as much as she could before stopping to breathe. Remembering herself, she was panting as she cleaned her face and looked back to her fellow Sith. “Thank you, my Lord.” And she was indeed quite grateful, as even the small refreshment seemed to return some of her strength by a small, but noticeable margin. It was soothing, and relaxing…

Until she felt a cold, uninvited grasp wrap around one of her arms. Reacting without thinking, she snapped to her side and brought a closed fist back, preparing to punch whomever for interrupting her moment of enjoyment. Next to her she found that rude Kaminoan – Cocytus? – of all beings, seemingly trying to help her from bed. Maybe she’d hit her head really hard, but suspicion aside, Leda dropped her hand and allowed him to carefully get her unhooked from various machines and IVs, then assist her to her feet.

Hobbling and stumbling here and there, she managed well enough and was directed to a refresher by one of those droids that were hanging about – she caught the red one as she passed it by. There was a humanoid face displayed upon a facial screen and she had to do a double-take. Insipid? It looked a hell-of-a lot like the Dark Lord though she couldn’t be sure, hurried along as she was. Apparently they were to be taken planet-side for some sort of… celebration? And she needed to look presentable?

“But will there be food?” she had asked repeatedly as she was handed fresh clothing of a drab style and urged again to just be ready. No one gave her an answer. So, she took her damn time in protest.


--


In a whirlwind, their ship had descended into atmo and she and her companions were whisked from the vessel and out onto the ground of Kesh, thrust in front of throngs of the world’s purple-skinned natives. She felt like a circus animal being paraded about to the ogling stares, cheers and applause of the crowds. Like a stubborn child, Leda covered her ears with her hands as they were escorted into a massive hall, promptly set upon by servants and officials offering their thanks and fretting about their needs. She growled at anyone that tried to get close to her.

Dressed in a simple black tunic and slacks, she dutifully took position by an indicated seat, her eyes wide with confusion and wonder. The Force was like a single comm channel trying to transmit a thousand others at once. She couldn’t read a thing other than an overwhelming amount of relief and… joy? This underneath her mounting bewilderment... what remarkable thing had she done to deserve gratitude, other than get wounded and pass out for a prolonged nap? And then somehow, well not somehow – the dark side was a beacon where he was concerned – the sea of strangers parted to allow her gaze to finally rest upon the visage she had thought she saw upon that medical droid from the ship. Only this time it was actually his, in the flesh.

The Emperor. Insipid. Alive and well.

She hoped he would offer her a pardon for siding with Bellorum during the war…

Hesitantly pondering the idea of graveling for forgiveness, everything went still, literally. The crowds froze in the midst of whatever noise they were making or gesture they offered, hushed into a deafening silence. And into that silence came Insipid’s voice, speaking only to the Sith that had gathered and been left unaffected by the stasis field.

Leda half slid-half fell into her seat as she listened to his words, a summary of things she knew and things she did not. There was some sort of bread loaf on the table in front of her and feeling light-headed, she clumsily reached for it and tore off an end, knocking over a glass of wine in the process. Biting off a chunk and chewing fervently, she was staring off into nothing while she processed what she learned. The information was a doozy, though not even the truth of Syren being one of those that had been snuffed from their reality and thrown into another that was unreachable elicited a reaction. She just felt… numb. And alone. Out of place and without a place. Not knowing where she stood made her feel adrift.

Hearing her name called out among the others did bring her back to the present, though she wished it hadn’t. This version of the present was not off to a great start and she did not understand the enthusiasm her Emperor displayed. She found it troubling more than encouraging. Hearing her name paired with Lord Manticore, however, did help to give her some sort of direction to focus her wayward mind and on cue, once more her eyes found him in the crowd. He was toasting her with a raised glass, to their partnership perhaps, and awkwardly she lifted the remaining piece of bread she hadn’t eaten in return.

“Cheers,” she mumbled under her breath, looking down at her fingers as they kneaded the soft, doughy food. Movement had been restored to the Keshiri and the world picked up right where they left off, fumbling about for their new “Protectors”.

“Let us drink and eat and celebrate!”

Glancing at Insipid, Leda snatched the rest of the bread loaf and got up from her seat to leave, hoping to be unseen as she melted into the streams of beings milling about. It occurred to her how naked she felt without her weapons, and there was a surge of desperation to locate them. Her saber and sword - the only connections left to her life before, and it caused her physical pain to think of losing them, too.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125 @Darth Cocytus , and all gathered on Kesh

 

IC: Darth Kronos and Esmerelda

With every victory, and with every feast or celebration, came a speech from Insipid. The man clearly loved the sound of his own voice.

There were plenty of new faces at this feast - Drost and the Anzati were the only two he recognized - and Insipid used his time to give a brief history lesson on the Sith Order. Most of it could be tuned out, but hearing even a fraction of it gave Kronos a bit of newfound perspective. So much had happened to him since he officially joined the ranks in this Empire - and even more during his time as a Peon - that it felt strange to look back on it. To him, it seemed like it occurred as lifetime ago, but in reality, it was less than two years.

He quickly returned to the present moment before his mind wandered too far and too deeply into the past.

As Insipid finished his speech, with his crowd-pleasing chants, Kronos turned to Esme and poured her a drink, sliding it in front of her to get her attention.

"Lost in your mind?"

He grinned. It was a smile of genuine warmth and inquisitiveness, though he imagined he already knew what she was thinking about.

Esmerelda sidled up more to Kronos and squeezed his hand. She smiled, softly. "Lost in wondering."

She gestured to all of this. "I mean, this is nice and all, but its been weeks since we helped Insipid at Bedlam. When are going to hunt down our twins?" The woman bit her lip, and sipped the drink to calm down. Only a slight amount, because poison was a Sith fancy.

"I heard about the first speech, back on Korriban, when I was a student of Sith history..." being plumped up by Haretisch to be sacrificed in a ritual. Esmerelda veered away from the thought. A slither of Typhojem had possessed her then, before returning to his full form.

Bad memories.

Lots of bad memories, where the Sith were involved.

"Yeah..."

He felt her discomfort, even without using the Force.

"I continued my research today, but I still haven't been able to find any leads. Nothing but dead ends so far."

A beat.

"I'm just hoping that Insipid has something to share 'cause I'm lost."

There was a hint of sadness and guilt in his voice.

Esmerelda bit her lip harder. “At some point Insipid is going to do another massive epic speech telling us all our missions and giving some of us the option but some of us not, just to give the illusion of power and some great weaving...”

“... when in-fact he just throws pieces into the air and waits and sees how they land on the board...” Esme looked at the man, conversing with Soliloquy, Helinith and maybe Renn from far across the room.

“He’s taken chaos into his equations of planning...” Esme shook her head. She was more Sith scholar than Sith victim right now. “... so he’s probably expecting us to flee...”

“Maybe even wishing for it to trigger something in the narrative... he’s basically making himself immune to anticipation or even prophecy...” she was thinking aloud, but it fit, and it was worrisome. Esme looked back at Kronos. “Are you going try and kill him, because I don’t think we have any other choice.”

Esme didn’t care if anyone else heard them. Planning to kill the ruler of the Sith was not treachery, after all. Doing so and destroying the Empire or Order,however, was. Esme sniffed.

Kronos stiffened and nervously glanced behind him, towards Insipid, before returning his gaze back to Esme. "He's probably already thought of it. And then thought of countless ways to combat it. All the while making sure we come out way worse off than we were. It's infuriating." Each word caused his tone to increase in frustration.

Another beat occurred as he gathered his thoughts and calmed himself down.

"So, no, I haven't."

Esmerelda stood from the table, visibly upset. “I need some space to think, Cassian.”

“Go play Sith, I’m going to work out what to do next rather than just assume just we’ll lose if we try anything.” Without much else to add, she did as she said - and walked off into the feast.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

Combo with cool dude, @Darth_wanderguard

IC: Syren, & Stranger
Dingy Spot, Nar Shadaa

Syren was silent and observant, her light drink during the flight having evened her out enough and cleared her head of the fuzziness of last night. And of her concern over Aryan.

In its place was the familiar comfort of anticipation and preparation - of seeking out a mark, of beginning a new hunt. In some, very small and insignificant way, she was also nervous. In the entirety of her time awake since Hoth, this would be her first legit chance to get back to her “old” self, how she used to be before she listened too closely to the voice that whispered to her darkest thoughts. And before she became so entangled with another being that she couldn’t begin to know how to unravel herself.

That’s not what worried her, though. It was more the uncertainty of if she could be that person again, from so long ago. Was that part of her life still… was that part of her?

Stepping out of the shuttle and into the throngs of the degenerate, dirty, and lawless citizens of Nar Shadaa, the majority of her doubts were put at ease. Syren threw open the doors to her senses and hungrily consumed all the raunchiness and danger that lurked in dark corners and stuck out in plain sight. An inkling of old feelings stirred deep inside her, both pleasant and harmful, as her eyes traced over various aliens of all shapes and sizes making their way to and from unknown destinations. Humans were present, but almost evenly with those that were not. It was an eclectic mix, and she wanted to be lost inside it.

As previously promised, she trailed Plo and Anark as they entered a random dive-cantina nearby, assorted smells smacking her in the face once they stepped through the door. Vomit, smoke, sweat, and the sticky-sweet smell of spice hung thickly in the air, almost so heavy as to drown out the high-pitched wailing of the “entertainment” in the back. Almost.

“You sure know how to kriffing pick ‘em,” she remarked loudly to the Dark Lord-formerly-known-as-Haretisch, wrinkling her nose but already beginning to scope out the assorted patrons that littered to dim space. The odors faded rather quickly as her focus shifted, and this she did remember quite fondly – hidden alcoves, secret deals, meetings of chance, the occasional public kill that no one would be sober or lucid enough to recall as a real event, and the authorities that didn’t even bother to investigate.

Syren smiled threateningly, casting a dry glance over her shoulder at Plo as she made her way straight to the far end of the bar. She made no eye contact, but could practically feel the wary gazes of those she passed by slide all over her body for differing reasons, none the genuine and kind sort. From an inner pocket of her jacket, her fingers brushing a lightsaber hilt as they found what she sought, she pulled out a small black case that was rectangular in shape. Taking a seat and opening it, she grasped a single cigarette and waited on one of the bartenders to make their way down the line.

“Anyone got a light,” she purred with a soft smile, to no one in particular.

Click

And just like that, a flame was burning mere inches from her face, borne of an antique lighter held between gloved fingers. It had been quiet, even by an assassin’s standards. He sat directly to Syren’s left - light brown hair swept back, short but not too short, stubbled face showing weather, and gaunt jowls sunken in beneath high cheek bones. He hadn’t even looked up from his drink.

“You don’t have the same smell as the rest of them,” he remarked. As he emptied his glass, one would notice that his eyes were less than sparkling. They were entirely dead and gray, in fact.

Showing no outward signs of surprise, Syren brought the cigarette up to her lips and leaned it into the open flame. Inhaling deeply, it caught and she drew back, glancing towards the man at her side as she exhaled the smoke into the hazy air above.

"Thank you," she started, a casual humor to her voice. "I'll take that as a compliment, considering the hygiene - and digestive issues of everyone else..." Waving her hand in a tight circle to indicate the patrons of this establishment, somewhere close by she heard the distinct sounds of dry-heaving. At least her gesture finally caught the eye of the creature behind the bar, and soon after a small glass of amber liquid slid down to stop in front of her, some of the contents sloshing out on to the cracked bar top.

“You got a name?” he asked.

Syren shifted to partially face him now, crossing her legs over one another and taking a sip of her drink. She studied him intently and openly, though with her skills, it would seem more as if she may be flirting. "Well, I've been called 'Valyn' for a while now, so let's go with that. And you?"

He said nothing, only shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now.” He downed a second drink and exhaled. Every time he did, he would seem to deflate a bit more.

Uncarefully, he reached out and his fingers found the vibroblade holstered on her left thigh. “No one carries one of those just for protection,” he observed as he tapped his knuckles on the bar with same hand to ask for another drink. A closer inspection would reveal it was his only hand. “Are you a professional?”

Syren stiffened visibly as she caught the movement of his hand, though she did not react. Here eyes merely narrowed as they followed his roving fingers, lightly groping around her side until they found her vibroblade holstered to her thigh. The fact that a stranger was touching her so freely and without her consent made her struggle to conceal a sneer, but it suddenly became clear to her that he wouldn't be able to see it anyways.

His milky-grey eyes, the non-committal physical advances, the fact that he hadn't looked directly at her yet - he was blind. And down a hand, she also noted, the opposite limb hanging loose at his side and the sleeve of his jacket tied off too far up to still hold most of his forearm and lower.

She clucked her tongue, leaning back and dropping any sort of false expression. Another drag of her cigarette and she followed the stranger's example, swallowing the remains of her drink in a single gulp and replacing the glass down for a refill. "Depends on what type of professional you are looking for."

“You don’t seem one for sob stories,” he started, “so I’ll give you the short version.” He shrunk somewhat, speaking now in hushed tones. “I worked in a factory here on the Smuggler’s Moon. There was an accident. Now I can’t work, clearly,” he paused as if to silently gesture to his physical condition. “People need money to live. Especially when those people have families, like I do. And what I lack in work I more than make up for in life insurance.”

His voice was tired, defeated. “I’ll cut right to the chase, then - I need you to kill me. And it needs to be in a way horrible enough that no one could believe I would hire someone to do it. It’s the only way I can be sure the policy will pay out.”

Syren gave a soft laugh, watching him. Not that this was the first request of this sort that she had ever received, but there had not been many. "Well, if you can't work, how can you pay?" she asked conversationally, not yet revealing she could do it and keeping things vague for a bit longer.

"The messier the scene, would usually require a hike in price. For the extra effort, of course. Most of those in that line of work tend to keep things neat and tidy. No loose ends..."

'Loose end'... to be continued.

TAG: @Darth_wanderguard

 

IC: Helinith, Darth Insipid, Serapis, Renn, Soliloquy
Location: feastin’ it up, baby!

Helinith stood and bowed theatrically as the former master spoke of her part in the events so far. However she was pulled from her plotting to get those sitting around her as drunk as possible by his request to speak with her. And so, as the speech was over, she wandered over to where Insipid was sat (via the bar of course). She was several gins in already but her extensive experience with alcohol betrayed not a sway nor single misplacement in her step. If anything, she felt quite invincible. This might be why she spoke first, only realising her lapse in etiquette after she had finished.

"Former master, I have been given conflicting instructions. You told me to spread chaos not twenty-four hours ago and now you're telling me the opposite!"

She downed the electric blue cocktail she was carrying and threw it behind her before continuing. "And you still owe me a punchline to my joke. Which makes me think I don't think you think I think what I have on the same soundwave." Oh. Maybe she was drunker than she thought. "They aren't lining up properly, the soapables, I mean symayoles, I mean syllables. I will shut up now." She sat down on the floor, half facing his chair, half facing the bar.

One person’s chaos is another person’s order.
Insipid wanted to impart that wisdom upon his former apprentice, but she was potentially too brined to take that to heart. Instead he drew her into a hug; it had been a decade since this particular Insipid had seen her.

Was it a decade? He escaped the mind trap with her help... he then spent eight years in joint-charge of the new Empire... then he spent a year-odd here. Who knows.
“You’ll figure it out, Helinith,” he said with a smile. “But not today. Enjoy the feast for now, yes?” The two battle droids stood either side of him, photoreceptors staring.

Helinith was completely disarmed by the former master's display of affection. "It's good to see you too. I was sorry to hear about Ike, he was fun. Anyhoo…" and here she turned to the holocron. "So what is with this thing? Could you like crack it open and release the trapped spirits? Like an egg." She tapped it so it spun slightly. "Not a very tasty egg."


The conciousness of Serapis sat in its facet of the holocron. It was starting to get hold of its senses. It wanted to hold its head. It realized the question "with what?" Serapis didn't have hands any more, after all.
It still held the color "purple" in mind. It also sensed "cold." It... wait... he. He was a he... once. He sensed... not much else. It was starting to come back to him now, though. And the thought was horrifying. He was little more than dead. In his consciousness, he started to scream.
Then the hand hit him, sending him spinning. A flashback to Typhojem grabbing his ship. His scream continued and escalated with the new horror fueling it.


The incessant prattle had finally ended and they had enjoyed floating through the show after being allowed down on the planet. At the request it had floated over, controlling it's current of the Force to bring it near to the Emperor and the child. They had to resist the notion to strangle her of course when she decided to tap one of the panes.

Whether it was just before or after that the screaming started they did not know and found themselves divided. //Shush Serapis. I have you. You’re alright. I am mending you, you are not alone. Drink in experience little one, open your mind, you can see.//

"Crack us open and we will take your body as recompense, and your soul as a feast to console our spirits." Their voices ground back. Harsh and strong at the little thing.

Now they had Sith present however, Insipid continued on; he reached for Soliloquy’s multifaceted Holocron and removed one segment, the segment, that Lord Insipid believed, contained Serapis. Insipid expected Soliloquy to object, but there were enough Sith here who were completely loyal; he would keep Soliloquy in line. He placed the segment in a waiting Droid body, as much as he did place Soliloquy’s body. Both of them had old Commando droids for use, at least until clone bodies could be created.

“Helinith; I present your new master, though among your tasks will be to obtain him a Forceful body.” He gestured dramatically. “Lord Serapis, and of course,” to the other Droid, “Lord Soliloquy.”

Of course, Insipid couldn’t possibly know that shredding someone down to a molecule would have a... deleterious impact upon Serapis.


“We did not, do not consent. You did not ask.” Soliloquy coldly replied as the droid it was placed in remained a standing statue. The colors of red and purple that shone out of its panes began to swirl and churn within. If one listened closely a soft clicking noise might be heard.


Having left the intriguing conversation with Vizier Bo, Renn stopped and got himself a, well, pitcher of water. He held it in one massive fist as he moved around the room. The amount and variety of energy put off by these beings was impressive.

He finished the pitcher and set it down on a table where it was swiftly swept away by one of the numerous Keshiri that were in motion once more. Turning, he saw in the distance Helinith, Lord Insipid,and a pair of Commando droids that felt as though they contained two more presences..

Following the feeling he’d been given, he walked over. He stopped behind Helinith, looming over the proceedings, an appendage extending and sliding a fruit roll onto the table before her, and taking a chance they were similar, before Lord Insipid as well. “Hi craziness, Lord Insipid, and” turning toward the two droids, “based on what I feel from you both, you must be Lord Soliloquy and Lord Serapis.”

Soliloquy ignored the new person, partly because they could no longer see, partly because they did not matter. The outward facing panes creaked before parting to reveal the exceeding brightness within of a white block of crystal core emitting a purple glow, the swirling patterns continued on the panes but not the core. It was then that if one were to look outside they would see a small cloud above their location seem to contract a moment before lightning burned out of the tiny thing as well as spreading to surrounding clouds and roof tops. Only at Soliloquy’s location the bolt ignored the roof and it’s lightning catching spikes to burn directly through the roof and down through the droid body to the waiting holocron. The droid body spasmed, arms and legs shooting straight out as a wail emitted from its form before the poor thing exploded, limbs and parts shooting out as it went to pieces.

Inside the now freely floating holocron one might note that that white crystal emitting the purple glow had a seam that had formed, a crack that grew rapidly until it started to part, permitting what appeared to be a small finger like appendage to poke out before a silver ooze spread before it, over it, growing and congealing. It was little, slowly growing to form a tiny pool in the open portal of the holocron before a projection extended out, a strand that thickened quickly as though drawing mass from within the holocron. Soon it was as thick a tentacle of silver goo as Insipid’s fist, yet still it grew despite the impossibility of there being that much mass contained within the holocron. A bulge formed on the end that took on vague shapes of a head and then a fissure split the side showing it as a mouth as teeth took shape and a tongue that it cried out with “WE DID NOT CONSENT!!!”.

Then the head and tentacle split, not losing mass but gain as it became two heads. One a nondescript human, the other Lord Manticore as they wailed, before they split, forming an arm and a leg in addition to the heads. The faces began flowing and changing into others, cycling through the forms of Revanites, One Sith, Hutt cartel members, even a Hutt, and so many commoners or slaves until an oozing and humanoid form took shape and the fraying heads flowed back together until the three eyed purple bodied, eight limbed woman stood there. The body they had created from the Zakuulian chamber, the holocron sunk into the petal blossom on her lower elbow they fiercely gazed at Insipid, “We are not pleased.” they simply stated as a strong Force shockwave emitted before the body shifted once more. It shifted into a large six legged, two armed, fourteen glowing yellow eyed, hard black chitinous carapaced being covered in spines and spikes, wreathed in shifting red smoke. It was the form they had first revealed themselves as to Serapis in his mindscape before they had saved him from the Queen of the Stars, Abeloth.

Renn watched in wonder, both with his eyes and his kind’s ability to feel everything in the Force around them, as Lord Soliloquy split, merged, transformed in front of him. It was a powerful change, not to mention the wave of Force energy that blew forth at the cusp of the last transformation.

His eyes widened, and his mouth split into a huge grin as he saw the final form the other Sith had taken. Turning his head and looking down, “Oooohhhh it’s pretty, please Craziness, please can we keep it?”

Helinith quickly stepped back out from behind Renn, where she'd been hiding after seeing the various forms of the purple spider-monster.

"Keep it?! It looks like it'd rip my head off! Besides, what would we feed it? I don't think it eats what most people consider food. No, that's the one we've got to drag around with us." She jabbed a thumb at the droid containing Serapis. "Apparently I'm so good at looking after masters, I've been given a third one." There was a touch of bitterness in her voice.

Turning Soliloquy raised a hand toward Serapis, “Are you alright?”. There was no visible mouth with this form and in truth they were not using it, but in courtesy they had projected the question in a soft calm male voice directly to the minds of those present for this event.

Looking one last time at the purple monstrosity that was Lord Soliloquy, Renn looked over at the remaining droid. He could feel confusion, a lack of identity, a being trying to figure out what or who it was. Hearing the last from Helinith he knew that, for a time, she would be right. Until Lord Serapis could find himself again, both before and after they found him a new body, they would have to watch over the other Sith.

Even the creature that was Lord Soliloquy seemed to agree. He could hear, in his mind, the query coming from it, checking on and attempting to see how the other was doing, now that they were separated.

"We've already seen worse, my little friend, than a Sith who has lost himself so I'm sure we can handle it." He reached down and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

Insipid glared at Soliloquy. For a brief moment, he seemed to be a Fanged God, wings swept outward.



His visage acted as a force of nature, demanding Soliloquy take a form, to cease his posturing, to become what the Order demanded of him; this was not the time of mysteries and Insipid had no intention of humouring them. The Force swaddled Soliloquy and made him something; Insipid cared not what.

With a hundred voices, the Fanged God boomed. “We do not need your consent.”

At that, Insipid returned to himself, and spun away, his cloak flowing. He had a feast to continue, and he knew precisely where Soliloquy would now fit in his plans.

He again did not acknowledge Renn; he had already done enough for Serapis; Helinith would have her woody friend for company.

Soliloquy would have his truth to come.

Helinith glared at Soliloquy. "You made him mad. Now he's gonna be grumpy." She grabbed the arm of the bot that should be identifying itself as Serapis. "Come on third Master, let's find out whether droids can consume alcohol."

Tags: oh lordy, @Darth Kronos, @QueenSabe7, @greyjedi125, @WookieeRage @Darth Cocytus @Snokers @Silvertough @darthbernael @Mitth_Fisto @DarthIshyZ @Sinrebirth (and their mothers) I think that is everyone....

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Feast and beginnings

Silently, he did observe them all. The sith. For now that was his role, to be the shadow, to witness this new beginning, even though the urge to train and see how much ground he needed to recover was growing stronger by the moment.

He almost decided to leave when the Sith Emperor called everyone to attention and announced their respective missions.

It was all very intriguing. He remembered Kralkus, the image of the Sith Lord coming to mind unbidden at the mention of his name. The Nightsister, he was not familiar with her. He also remembered Lord Hades from the time before, but the other zabrak Sith Lord was not a High Lord then. That he had managed to best his challenges and actually earn a promotion among the sith, spoke well of him. Now, was he literally hunting Lady Arach or simply searching for her? That was a question for later consideration.

There was more mention of Snoke and Manticore made it a point to learn all about this enemy as soon as he was able. There was a score that needed to be settled- and if there was anything he could do to foil this new enemy…..but that too was an issue for another time.

Ahhh. There. A revelation.Darth Kronos and his consort had birthed children.Unfortunate that they had to learn the error of that choice in this manner.

Manticore’s expression did not change at hearing of his mission to Kuat. The fact that Darth Insipid would be coming along meant that this was a mission of high priority- which meant the mission would likely have multiple objectives.

Good.

Manticore already knew the Dark Lord was one to endeavor in intricate plans of differing lengths, for that was another of his skill sets. This, here and now, was another chance at getting things right. How much different would the First Sith Order be from the Brotherhood of Darkness or the Sith Empire that preceded it? That remained to be seen.

There was much to think about, now that the missions and their teams were formed- both officially and unofficially.

As he pondered these things, he continued to observe.

Here and there he watched them interact, he felt the tug of the darkside, the force, pull and ebb between the gathered sith -flow as it always did.

The Neti and the Anzati, two whom he could sense to be very strong in the darkside of the force, the miraluka as well. Manticore took notes and measures of behavior and reaction, at least in the present setting. He would learn more as events progressed. He did find it interesting that the Vizier was not at the Emperor’s side. That was probably telling as well.

The one human female he took notice of, seemed quite lively for a sith, which was a surprise to the zabrak Sith Lord. He found her interaction with Darth Insipid to be another unexpected surprise. Then again, the Sith Emperor was a Master of Theatre on a league all his own. That inherently spoke for itself.

Now, Darth Kronos and his consort. There was an air of unrest shrouding them, a palpable disturbance. Manticore now knew why. Theirs was a unique challenge that could break them if they faltered. Were they strong enough?

So was the way of the sith.

A strange and uncommon sound caught the zabrak’s attention just then.

Was that laughter he was hearing? Such a strange sound, given recent past events. Still, perhaps that was good. Everyday should not feel like a funeral procession, despite their losses.

And at the center of it all, always Darth Insipid was.

Fiery eyes observed from beneath the shadow of his hooded visage, as two commando droids came to stand by the Sith Emperor, who was now in the company of other sith. The floating holocron was also in attendance. Manticore felt the stirring in the force as they interacted, a crescendo that slowly rose from behind the din of the festivities.

There was motion and conversation, which he could not hear, though their body language spoke clearly enough for them. Within moments, emotions seemed to flare- and then one of the commando droids exploded.

There was a loud cry which he could hear above all else: “WE DID NOT CONSENT!!!”

Manticore recognized the voice as belonging to Darth Soliloquy, the disembodied voice of the holocron, which greeted the sith who had slumbered in slabs of carbonite. He did not sound pleased in the least.

As he watched, he beheld an ever-changing transformation. For a moment, he saw his own face, which caused his eyes to narrow in suspicion, but the moment was gone as the transformation continued -each form becoming greater and more massive than the last. The form of the purple female with eight arms was fascinating; one could fancy her a Skyborn keshiri deity of some sort. Comely and exotic. A force shockwave followed and the form shifted yet again- this time into something that was almost as fearsome looking as a Terentatek.

Indeed, It was quite a display, but this was Lord Insipid’s stage and his theatrical production. The Dark Lord was not one to be upstaged- not here, not now, or by anyone.

The Dark Lord flared and transformed into his own terrible form, one which Manticore recognized. Was it from a Dream? a Nightmare? Mortis?

This was the Fanged god. Or was this just a projection of him, something to rival his opponent? It was hard to tell, but the power emitting from it was very real.

“We do not need your consent.” It shot back with a plethora of voices speaking at once.

The incident came to an end almost as suddenly as it begun. The Sith Emperor strode away, his cloak flowing behind him.

No one reacted outwardly to the bit of ‘theatre’, though imaginations were probably running rampant.

It was then than Manticore noticed a small force signature coming from within the remaining commando droid. How strange. Could that have been the source of the spat?

Sith would be sith, it would seem, and it certainly looked as if sith history was about to repeat itself.

No matter.

This was only the prologue. There was still a very long way to go.



Tag: @Sinrebirth, @QueenSabe7, @darthbernael ( for mission ), all sith in attendance

 

IC: Captain Lennox Jerod
Location: Nar Shaddaa…..in a haze

Luckily the Trandoshan hadn't gotten back up again but Jerod still leant his back against the bar with his hand casually on his blaster. Trandoshans were notorious for loving a good old scrap and thankfully this one had decided Ike had beaten him enough.

Meanwhile Bellorum was ordering three drinks, in her words “exotic and fruity” and he was about to protest, yet again that he was on duty and was not touching a drop of it. Bellorum leaned in close and whispered in Lennox’s ear “you don’t have to like us, but if you want your son back, you’ll have to trust us.” Her lips weren’t quite brushing his ear as she spoke, “Ike and I have felt him nearby,” she leaned back accepted her drink from the bartender.

Ike and Bellorum were still pretty low on Jerod’s list in the trust category and even though Ike had given Jerod a bit of advice, Lennox could still not trust them as far as he could throw them. Even though they were needed to get his son back. He supposed that all they wanted was a good time and trying to get Jerod to enjoy himself.

Which so far wasn't working. But he was slipping a little bit easier into the whole “outlaw” personality.

The drinks were quite impressive though in large globe like containers with enough fruit in it to fill a fruit salad. It was topped off with skewers of fruit and a pretty umbrella. And he was starting to feel like he could down one of those in one. And he knew something was inside of him, starting to relax him a bit. His senses were beginning to heighten which was a strange sensation like sounds were becoming more enhanced, and his sight was starting to make bright colours seem even more neon.

Well this isn't right he thought.

He brought the drinks back over to where Ike and Bellorum were sitting, but he did not miss the grins being shared between each other. And Jerod knew something must have happened to him and he didn't need the Force to sense it. And he resolved this, if he was going to be humiliated again he would abandon them on the nearest planet, or everything be damned he would make sure they would pay, with interest.

And he wouldn't care if Plo found out.

His mind at the moment was swimming and he didn't like it. If he had been drugged which was his suspicion then no-one would let him live it down. Next time he was not going on any missions, he was going to stay on the bridge and do his job, it was where he was more relaxed anyway. Hopefully this drug episode was going to be the only time he was humiliated.

Probably not.

Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, perhaps have some fun!. You only live once….

He took a seat near Bellorum and he was glad he was sitting down because his eyes were definitely seeing shapes that were not supposed to be there. He wasn't smiling like a stupid idiot but he wasn't far off it. Ike and Bellorum however were performing a stunt with a piece of fruit and to Jerod’s eyes it looked like it was moving in slow motion and it looked so pretty…

Unfortunately whatever was in his system was also making his stomach feel like it was doing backflips. Perhaps he could have a drink to soothe it.
Meanwhile Bellorum was talking again and it sounded loud to Lennox “I’m sure he’s not even aware that he’s concealing himself because he’s drifting in and out,” she used her teeth of remove another piece of fruit and chewed slowly.

Xander however was the last thing on Jerod’s mind at the moment. All he could think of was that he seemed relaxed and that he had never felt so relaxed in all his life. Well not since his and Cleo’s romance anyway.

“We need to find him before he’s discovered and taken by someone else,” she told Jerod, “and I promise they would do much worse to him than I shall if he doesn’t have my necklace.”

Again Jerod didn't seem to care, all he seemed to care about at the moment was having a little bit of fun, well before he probably passed out anyway. His “normal” voice was screaming at him to behave himself but he was ignoring it for now. And these two were boring him, time to have a bit of pleasure on his own.

And so he decided to wander off and leave them and he was surprised that he was still standing up straight. Whatever the drug was going through his system it made him feel euphoric like he could do anything he wanted to.

He wandered into a bar a little further down the road and smiling a little more than usual managed to find a rather nice looking Twi’lek at the bar. Probably either a dancing girl or one of the girls on display. He started talking to her and he didn't care what he was saying, whether it sounded dirty or just damn rude he couldn't help what was coming out of his mouth. Unfortunately, however, her boyfriend came along and basically told Jerod to take a hike.

And Jerod became angry. It wasn't often he did but the drugs were giving him a kick and his anger was in full flow now, especially since he was talking to the rather nice Twi’lek. So Lennox punched him in the face.

Which then started a massive bar brawl. And Jerod LOVED it.

All the anger about losing two ships, Cleo dying and Xander basically being the galaxies naughtiest boy came out in one drug fueled adrenaline rush. And he got a chance to show off his martial arts skills which he had homed to a T. High and low punches, high and low kicks, triple kicks (high, medium, low) and even some boxing skills. He even threw in a scorpion kick to another Trandoshans face for good measure.

Unfortunately he was getting hit too, not as bad as the others were but he was still going to be heading back to the shuttle with a few bruises and cuts. His senses were buzzing with all the sounds of the bar coming back to him like he had loudspeakers next to both of his ears and his vision was sharp as if everyone had a sharp black outline and were wearing neon clothes.

Got to get out of here…..

He decided he had had enough and decided to head elsewhere as he needed some fresh air, well as fresh as Nar Shaddaa was going to get. The roofs look tempting as he managed to wobble his way down the street flashing a grin to every pretty looking woman he could find. And that “normal voice was now screaming it’s head off. Lennox was still ignoring it for now.

He looked up at an abandoned building, this would be a nice place to get a bit of peace and quiet after that piece of martial arts masterclass. He managed to slowly make his way up the rickety stairs and this building did not really look safe enough to hold anyone in. But Jerod was determined to make it up there and see the view.

He eventually made it onto the rood and Nar Shaddaa looked like a kaleidoscope of colour, riot with sound and smell, although the smells weren't too great. But for him he achieved what he had set out to do, have some fun and to let off steam as well. He hadn't had a drink which he was probably going to react as well and the drugging but he had felt like he was a free man. Freed from the shackles of the Empire and the Imperium perhaps he could create a new life.

He threw his arms out either side as he stepped towards the roof’s edge threw his head back….
And laughed his head off.

This was FREEDOM.

TAG: @Sinrebirth , @Lady Belligerent

 

IC: Lord Manticore
The Feast, New Sith

The Feast continued, thus far, with no further incident -but, that could change at any given moment. Manticore was not one to let his guard down or be fooled by ‘relative peace’. The first line of the Sith Code stated as much.

Still, despite the more eclectic gathering of sith, it was good to see that certain tenets still remained intact.

The zabrak Sith Lord returned the Anzati’s nod with equal measure; he made it a point to soon learn his name. It was pleasing to have confirmation on his level of alertness and Force attunement. He held the same opinion of Leda, who had also returned his subtle acknowledgement.

The former Executor knew well enough that a feast was no excuse to grow lax in vigilance. In fact, it called for greater security, for social occasions were easily exploited by those with underhanded agendas.

Manticore sneered slightly under his hood as a thought played in his mind. With the Dark Lord’s current mood, he would dare anyone to be so foolish enough as to incite more mischief at the feast. It would make for good entertainment- and better sport later. But that was nothing but a passing fancy.

At present, he was more interested in the mission to Kuat and the preparations that needed to made. Unless his personal effects were stored elsewhere and were untampered, he would have to construct a new saber-staff from scratch. In a way, the prospect was both exciting and symbolic. This was a new beginning after all.

In his mind, he already knew the schematics and materials necessary to complete his new weapon. All he would need now were the actual materials themselves, some reagents and a forge. Knowing Lord Insipid, he probably had a message with mission details waiting for him and a timetable.

Time was of the essence. Perhaps the keshiri could provide what he needed in short order. Ironically, he did his best work under pressure, not unlike the field of battle, where one mistake meant certain death.

Still, he also knew the patience of a hunter.

He did not feel it was time to depart the feast, not quite yet. There was still something he needed to see first.


Tag: @Sinrebirth (@QueenSabe7, @darthbernael ) any sith.

 

Soliloquy
Feast and Altered Perceptions

They were halfway there. They had left one shell and as soon as the air had touched them and they were there to appreciate it they had thrown a shape and taken a new shell. They had taken the old shell and internalized it within themselves the same as they imprisoned themselves in this shape. First of everything like a bad recording going backwards of those they had impersonated, been in one sense or another, before they had come back to the last body and then focusing on Serapis the last mental images they had used to talk with and teach him.



Then Insipid had shown his true colors, his true absorption as well as influence from the Son. The Fanged one lived again through him. Although the Ones were merely old masters that had left long ago, except for three that had not the better sense to die until late in the Clone Wars. Which meant the power shown was merely borrowed, a fall back, a resting pose of something feeling cornered, threatened. Angered.

That was always the downside of the Sith and of the Son, the emotions ruled them, not the other way around. There was this, its own issues though. Soliloquy was being pressed, forced into a shell. Choose a person be the person. It was a locking maneuver and in a way they knew the instinctual failures of their present form and tried to shift back, to shift away from thin lines toward living armor and flesh and power of another sort for the possible confrontation they found themselves possibly facing. . .only to be stuck somewhere between. Somewhere that was completely alien and all to familiar as well.



A shell that was made all too real.

They stood their in their shock wondering if they had chosen a gender, and then realizing they had not one good way to check and so that it mattered little. The weird child seemed to have her say about them making Insipid mad, what a delicious word to use instead of angry! It delighted them like the slight of Insipid walking away from them had infuriated them. "Out of the mouths of babes." they simply responded. Shocked once more into silence and stillness by their own voice. It was harsh, grating, deep and male. Funny how they could figure that no longer bothersome inkling just by speaking. No patting, no fondling, no searching. Just speak and it was known.

Float dragging their living robes over the ground they glided by as Insipid gave out tasks. They were once more with the Kaminoan and Emperor AI. They were curious what it would make of them, of what it passed up being a part of and possibly taking by force. This form was a setback true. They would be free of it soon they had little doubt, borrowed power and weakened bases triggered in fits of anger were not the stuff of dread. Not anymore. Although next they had to let the air grace their skin they would stand in that glory no matter who would see. For now they were a he, and they were this.

When the mention of datapad notes was mentioned they, he, with a turn of his head and contraction of his visible eye singled out a Kishiri servant. "I need to write a missive to our leader on this matter. See one comes with pen and scroll." he simply stated in a hushed tone. This provided too good an instance, a chance, an opportunity for them / him to pass up.

They had a note to write. He had a note to write.

TAG: @Sinrebirth , @Sith Banquet Guests, @darthhelinith , @DarthIshyZ

 

So, they're out of order, but this post, which was half sent using Tapatalk from @Sinrebirth 's iPhone, is the precursor to his latest one.

Darth Ventris and Darth Insipid
Presumably Space

Ventris was violently awakened by rain.

He sat up abruptly. His body protested. His head protested. There was a reason he did not often shock his enemies. It was incredibly tiring.

Not rain, perhaps.

“Lord Ventris?”

Through blurred vision from the water running past his head, Ventris looked up at an old master now laid bare. An old rival. An old enemy. Darth Insipid, in the flesh.

Or, at least, Ventris assumed. It was always difficult to tell with Insipid. Ventris never could trust he’d be wearing the same face two encounters in a row. And, he realized he actually couldn’t remember what Insipid had looked like last time they’d been face to face. Not that it mattered. That aura was unmistakable. Insipid, Kya, Malthus, and whatever other names he’d adopted in the meantime; he always struck the same chord in the Force. Always so troublesome and calculating.

Definitely not rain. Ventris stood, unsteady but determined. He was in what appeared to be a starship refresher. It seemed they’d escaped death, after all. Well, of course, he thought. He stepped out of the shower and brushed past Insipid, while whispering back. “Lord of what, I wonder?”

Insipid stood as well, allowing Ventris to wobble outside of the shower. "Lord of Betrayal, as a rule... though I cannot recall what your title was, back in those long days on Lehon."

Ventris laughed at the word betrayal. His voice was hoarse despite disuse. “We’ve always had different ideas of what it means to be Sith.”

Ventris was still caught on his previous thought. Wonder. Wonder. Wonder. Wonder. Where was his, he thought. He hadn’t been conscious for the trip, but he nevertheless began retracing the probable steps back to the loading ramp. Most starships were laid out the same, so it couldn’t be that difficult. It wouldn’t do to lose that which he had only just found.

Insipid followed, carefully. Ventris was unstable, right now. A Force brawl in hyperspace would be... well, it would be explosive. Beating up an irritatingly unconscious Ventris was one thing; fighting him was another. "Where are you going... we're at lightspeed..."

His voice was soft. Not condescending... just... open.

Insipid had not seen the man for a long, long, long, time.

He followed him closely while Ventris searched. Insipid’s voice was sickeningly soft as he asked where Ventris was going.

As if he were some lost kath hound pup. He didn’t respond right away, though, as he had found the entry ramp. And there, where it must have fallen out when Insipid had apparently struck him, based on the twinge in his side, was the wooden form of Ventris’ staff. “I had to find my stick."

Ventris now stood with the business end of his staff facing towards his oldest and most dangerous adversary. The man who had also just saved his life. Well, more improved than saved, considering there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t have survived his most recent brush with mortality.

Ventris realized he had just been staring blankly at Insipid for longer than a moment. He laughed again. “Why did you come, Insipid?”

Insipid couldn’t quite perceive the nature of his thoughts. But, Ventris has been a powerful Sith in his own right, decades ago. Folding his arms, Insipid let out a snort.

“Is it not sufficient that I did come, and I did save you? That I did so in the nick of them, at certain personal risk?” Insipid gestured to the pooled cloak on the floor. “Had I not this, I would not have even risked it, I assure you.”

“But I did - and in a realm where the merest hint of my existence would result in my death, if He thought it, the correct response would be Thank you, Lord Insipid, no?” Insipid growled, trying not to eye the ‘stick’ in-case he should interpret Ventris and his notions as threat, not madness.

Ventris followed Insipid's gesture toward the cloak. He wondered if it was an ancient artifact or a recent creation. His mind was buzzing with curiosity and a desire to take a closer look. If only his lab hadn't been destroyed. Insipid bristled with indignation, while Ventris had again gotten lost in thought.

"Always with the formalities. Thank you, Insipid, yes," he said with a wave of his hand. He looked up at the man's face inquisitively then, and continued. "But, you certainly didn't save me out of some sense of camaraderie. After all, your little group sent me quite a few of its sons and daughters before the calamity struck. Did you sense that I was running short of test subjects, or had your opinion of me fallen so low, that you imagined I might be struck down by children?"

Insipid smiled inwardly. Yes, once upon a time it did serve them well to send troublesome Sith into the depths to hunt Ventris and die. Ventris remembered that much at least.

Ventris swung his stick up and rested it against his shoulder. He could feel some of his strength returning, however slowly. He might have been able to resume the usual illusion of his appearance, but he held back. Any show of power was dangerous here.

"I suppose it doesn't matter now.” Ventris trailed off before continuing.

“So, I ask again, why have you come now? Why not let the Force attempt to take me? If I could die, you might have witnessed my demise on Nar Shaddaa, mere moments ago."

Ventris already felt clearer than he had in over a year, now that he was off that accursed planet. There would almost certainly be lasting effects from his time in the darkness, but for now, the clarity was sublime.

"What cognition has the Force granted you, that would induce you to endanger yourself just to rescue an old enemy?"

Externally, he affected an air of disdain. “I didn’t choose to collect you, as a matter of fact.” He indicated the staff with the ancient Sage Sistros atop that he held. “This is a... dowsing sceptre, but it can detect Force users. It told me of you, and where you were, from a distant world.”

“If it tells me to hunt you, there is a prophetic reason of some kind, is my belief.” Insipid spoke neutrally. “The sceptre has acted of its own accord, sending me flow-walking into the distant past, would you believe. It appears to be providing me with pieces of some kind of celestial puzzle.” A shrug.

“So potentially you still have a role to play on somebodies board, my old friend.” A slight snort, and then a pause. “But not mine.” His smile became glittering malice.

There. There was the Insipid that he remembered, Ventris thought. A snort of derision and a look of contempt made him feel at home in a galaxy almost completely devoid of them. At least in this company. The concern he had momentarily shown for Ventris was worrisome. It made him wonder just how much he had seen in this new reality.

“It shows everyone something different.” He held it out to Ventris, mentally aware of the timings for their arrival, but also conscious that the staff would probably force the issue otherwise.

There was a part of the monologue that had confused Ventris, but when Insipid finally came to his point, Ventris didn't stop to question him. Insipid had held the staff he'd been carrying out to Ventris. "It shows everyone something different."

Ventris's curiosity bubbled over. He closed the distance between them and reached his arm out. As his fingers neared the smooth material he could feel some unknown power emanating from it. He closed his hand around the staff.

Tag: Sinnybaby, although, I guess it's back to me.

 

IC: Leda
Kesh

As soon as Leda cleared the exit of the great hall, she skidded to a halt, her yellow-green eyes casting confused looks all over at the strange landscape of the city. “Where the kriff am I even going,” she muttered to herself, startling a keshiri that had attempted to ask her if she needed anything. “Yes! My gods-damned weapons!” she snarled in return before turning on her heels to head back inside. As soon as she did, the Force spoke of a great, but swift commotion of some sort by the bar at the far end, but she had missed it and found a severe lack of curiosity in finding out what exactly. She wasn’t a part of it, so it wasn't for her to know.

There was a vague level of isolation with her presence among this particular group. It seemed there were deepening lines forming between several of them already, whether by design or accident. And while there appeared to be none for her yet, she had little to no desire to even find one. Her gear was the only solace she needed for now.

Her hand groped the empty space at her side, right where her hilt would usually hang on her left hip. The sword hadn’t been with her long enough to leave her longing for its place at her back, but its absence was certainly felt in a small hole that she was left with in the wake of Syren’s… departure. It still caused her a degree of bewilderment whenever she dwelled over her oddly timed and unexplained connection to the redheaded assassin. They had been linked, but never had the opportunity to wonder why. And how.

Come to think of it, she had never even heard the other woman express concern, even after those few shared experiences they had together – physically and mentally. That had annoyed her then and still did, knowing she had cared more than she probably should have.

Though, she did realize there was no use getting worked up over it now. Syren was gone. And Leda was here. Going through the motions to regain some semblance of her old way of life would surely bring her focus, and things would get back to normal soon enough.

Right?

Her face screwed up at the uncertainty of it all, instead choosing to take her bread to the side of the room and leaned against a wall out of the way to eat in peace. She listened to mission assignments, becoming bored rather quickly, until it came to her own of course. Insipid hadn’t mentioned her by name, which naturally ruffled her feathers a bit but she had been previously paired with Manticore so where he went, she went. And their first stop appeared to be Kuat, along with the Emperor and whomever was his designated companion. She couldn’t remember a name.

Leda initially rolled her eyes at the idea of a political assignment, not really one that was entertained by the schmoozing and scheming of elected officials and the arena of politicking. It was all so… dull and elementary. However, perhaps they’d need her physical prowess with a lightsaber if negotiations took a more… aggressive turn. Again a hand reached for her left hip, touching only air.

Chewing her last bite of food, she pushed away from her spot on the wall and began to weave through the tables and beings laced in between to head towards the hooded zabrak she could see nearby. He seemed to be concentrating inwardly and it did occur to her that she should be mindful and not interrupt.

She did it anyways.

Coming slowly and cautiously to Manticore’s side, not too close to be respectful of his space, she offered a small bow and a short pause before speaking. “My Lord, I apologize if I was a bit… off before. On the ship. I appreciated the water… hope you were able to get some for yourself. You were probably thirstier than I was, considering…”

You’re rambling. Get a grip.

She stopped, cleared her throat, and straightened.

“I am Leda,” she began again, adopting a more serious expression to mimic his. “I look forward to our mission. Working with our Emperor will be an excellent way to get back into the swing of things, don't you think?”

She needed to get back into the swing of things.

TAGS: @greyjedi125 directly, @Sinrebirth & feasting Sith on Kesh

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Repast’s end

Passion, Fervor, Zeal, Vehemence. These were all Sith traits, all acceptable and encouraged- but there was a proper place and time for these. After all, the word after Sith was Order.

The zabrak Sith Lord continued to overlook the feast and all those who were in attendance, all the while absorbing every detail and nuance that he could learn in this manner. From his posture alone, the keshiri servers knew not to disturb him.

The incipience of the First Sith Order began with food, revelry and bit of intrigue. And why not?

By this time, he concluded that his presence would not be needed any longer.

Lord Manticore was just about to turn and take his leave when he sensed someone approaching. This was clearly a sith, as the keshiri felt much different in the force. He sensed no malice, so he remained as he was and allowed the scene to play out. Still hooded under his black cloak, he turned just in time; His fiery gaze beheld Leda, who offered a small bow before speaking.

“My Lord, I apologize if I was a bit… off before. On the ship. I appreciated the water… hope you were able to get some for yourself. You were probably thirstier than I was, considering…”

Saying not a word, Manticore continued to gauge her under his gaze as she stopped, straightened and began again. This time with more certainty.

“I am Leda,” she said, her expression more serious. “I look forward to our mission. Working with our Emperor will be an excellent way to get back into the swing of things, don't you think?”

Manticore gave Leda a slow and solid nod of approval, he regarded her a moment longer, his expression unchanged before he answered.

“Agreed.” He said simply, then continued after a beat.

“We have a rare chance here. To start again.” There was a fiery flicker in the zabrak’s eyes, but it lasted for only a moment. “Our history will seem familiar at first, but that will change quickly.” There was a not-so subtle glance given to the gathered sith, then back to Leda. “We will need to be ready for the unexpected- and not only from this timeline, given what I’m hearing.”

At that, the Sith Lord gave a huff.

Snoke.

“I’m commandeering a hall for training…” He said as he began to turn, then looked over his shoulder.

“You are welcome to come along.”

With that, Lord Manticore turned fully and strode forth, intending to do exactly as he proposed.

Tag: @QueenSabe7, @Sinrebirth, any sith

 

IC: Darth Helinith, Renn, Darth Serapis
Location: feasting

With Serapis in tow, Helinith led the droid and Renn to a table and sat down the droid in a chair. She put drinks into her companions hands and chewed the strawberry sweet roll that Renn had handed her, pondering the droid in front of her.

"So what is your deal? For a Sith master you've been awfully quiet about all this."

Renn took the offered drink and shifted enough to seem a level height with Helinith, seated at the table. He leaned back slightly and sipped at the drink while waiting to see how Lord Serapis responded to her question, if he would.

Serapis, for his part, was still trying to get used to being. Much less being shoved into a droid body. So, they were to look into a new body, then. Good to know. His closely guarded skill of body transferrance would come in handy.

He moved carefully out of the shard. It felt... sticky. Like the shard didn't want to release him. Serapis found, not a standard droid brain, but some kind of wetware that could handle a sentient consciousness.

As he stretched out to the extremeties, he moved the appendages. First the left hand, the right, then the feet. Then he occupied the eyes. It seemed like his vision was flat. That would be the photoreceptors. There seemed to be data presented he had yet to decipher.

So, he was standing by a table. He didn't have the ability to sit, so he stood there. Just looking around for a bit.

Helinith lent over and waved her hand in front of his photoreceptors.

"Errrr.. hello?"

She shrugged.
"I mean he's moving but maybe we need a visual trigger to... stimulate the senses. Pull him out of his moop."

She sucked on the metal strawer attached stuck in her drink.

"Does anyone have a children's flip book of alien species? Maybe if he sees what he used to look like, he might respond."

Serapis saw this one that was to be his apprentice. He scoffed internally. She would be an interesting project.

First, he wanted to mess with her a bit. He needed his voice to do that. He tested access with a few sounds. Then he used it. He spoke his first words as a droid, "D- dea- ea- Death to huuuumans. Death to huuumans. Death to all humans!"

"Oh crap!"
Helinith jumped back and activated her lightsaber, holding out a hand ready to force push, if necessary.
She looked at Renn. "I guess that scratches human off the alien list. You know what?" she quickly added. "I'm tempted to take off near-humans too."
She turned back to the droid.
"Now... lets see here. I know that Insipid doesn't want me to kill you but, he never said anything about removing limbs, and if that'll make you safe, then so be it."

The droid then started to laugh. Or what passed for laughing with a droid voice.

Renn sat through the initial movements of the droid, feeling that Lord Serapis was getting used to his current state.The voice and statement that came out however caused him to start for a moment before he felt the humor in running through the essence of Serapis that was in the droid.

He sat, mostly calmly as Helinith leapt up and brandished her saber, "Ok, craziness, no humanoid or human appearing bodies." he said with a grin.

At the laugh from the droid, 'This is going to be one interesting, and full of chaos, trip.'

Tags: feasting sith and GM(s) @darthbernael @DarthIshyZ

 

Darth Helinith
Location: still feasting

With a grumble, she put away her lightsaber again, feeling rather silly.

It wasn't fair.

She might be the only sith in history to have been given a third master. The second had been a necessary technicality but the third...
It was embarrassing and she felt ashamed. Was she really so inept or inadequate? What if the other sith found out?
Well she would gut the first person who mentioned it.

But reason was found, even here as she blew a bubble with the candy she continued to chew on.
Apart from Renn and Bernael, nobody knew her. Renn didn't know about the first master. Even Bernael knew little more than that.
If there was a Helinith in this time line, she would be comfortably asleep in an obulette thousands of lightyears away, and she wouldn't even recognise the name. And aside from Insipid, noone else knew the name she used to have, nobody knew her history.
In other words, she told herself firmly, you're just turning what is sub-light travel into an unnecessary hyperspace jump. Calm down.

She was interrupted from her moop by the former master handing out missions.
“I’ll also be picking up some ships for our personal use, so if you have a request, submit it by datapad.”

Helinith sighed as her thoughts moved to the heavily modified tie X1 advanced that she had left behind her, in the broken world she, Renn and Bernael had come from. She knew where one was currently sitting, but she was not convinced anyone would be willing to detour to pick it up for such little payoff. Plus she'd have to make all the modifications all over again, and finding the parts was a pain and a half...but boy would she miss it.

She sighed and pulled out her datapad.
Just get me something that will keep me entertained.
She read that again to herself and added a little more, just to make sure nobody came to her in three weeks time and handed her a remote-controlled toy spaceship.
and that I can live on. Airtight and operational but with potential.

She was sentimental but she wasn't stupid. That had been the distinct disadvantage of the X1, for all its value as a collector's item, it was not a ship you could cruise comfortably in. Perhaps it was time for an upgrade.

Satisfied, she sent in her preference and turned back to her companions.
"So... where are we going to go to find a body for the tin-can-man? I had this crazy idea to go to Coruscant and attend a music concert. Find a core drive or flaunt singer who is really popular and mingle with the crowd there. If we find something popular with tweens, or teenagers, emotions will be running high which will make it really easy to identify an individual who is force sensitive."

TAGS: @darthbernael @DarthIshyZ
@Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 @QueenSabe7 (ship preference)
All other Sith at the Feast

 

IC: Azeth Drost
Kesh: Great Hall

The battle was over, the enemy lay defeated, and Drost stood victories alongside his new ally, Kronos. The vile Destructor was dead, as he was destined to always be.

Drost wanted to believe such a tale deep within his heart. One of classic good against evil, of right and wrong, all ultimately a fantasy. He now stood in silence, the persona of a Protector shattered, all that remained being a confused Sith.

Insipid had called for a great feast, so Drost obeyed. It was easier that way, the less questions the better. Questions made him remember, and remembering only brought pain.

The feast itself was as opulent as one would expect the Emperor to throw, with Keshiri carrying platters of food and drink running every which way. Drost sat down at one of the tables, his mood sour. He had, once again, been used as a pawn in some elaborate plan by his superiors. He bit his lip, glaring at the passing Keshiri with noticeable suspicion. Had they deceived him as well?

Was this part of Insipid's plan as well? To keep Drost confused, uncertain of his place? Where did the machinations end, and the paranoia begin?

Drost warily cast his gaze about the Grand Hall, spotting a number of faces he recognized, most only in passing, but a few in familiarity. The Anzati which he had fought previously, Bernael, along with the Sith which struck the "killing" blow against him, Kronos. Drost regarded each with a slight nod of the head. Their battle had exposed truths that were not easily hidden, and a respect for the two as both warriors and Sith.

Through the force, Drost felt a tiny tremor, before the Great hall fell silent, the Keshiri waiters suddenly frozen in place. He raised an eyebrow at Insipid's blatant display of power. I was unaware stasis could be used on such a scale.. He thought, reaching out with a hand to lightly tap the nearest Keshiri with a finger. Completely frozen, very interesting..

While Insipid continued his speech, explaining past events, Drost had a single target in focus. A certain Wookiee-Sithspawn whom was somehow very much alive, contrary to the events on Bedlam. His old Master had been swallowed up by a torrential river of blood, and that had been after he had seemingly lost the will to continue fighting..

A wave of fresh confusion, coupled with anger, washed over the Miraluka. How can he just sit there as if nothing happened? As if he didn't betray us all? He thought bitterly, squashing the rising tides of anger internally. Those answers would be discovered at a later date, not now. Not yet. Flexing his right hand, he summoned a goblet from the tray of a nearby frozen Keshiri through the force.

He needed the distraction only alcohol could bring.

"Drost?” He looked for the Miraluka. “Your new Master is for you to pursue - pick someone here who intrigues you, and you may convince them of your usefulness.”

Drost glanced up towards Insipid and nodded, a tight smile on his face. A natural next step. Although you seem to have left me with very few options, how convenient..

Who was left then? As he focused on each name presented to him, all but one felt silent through the force. Serapis. The simple thought echoed within his mind. Muddled memories of forgotten events followed that name in earnest. Memories Drost was furious he had so quickly forgotten..

What had happened after Ravenous' disappearance underneath the tide of blood ichor on Bedlam? What twisted monstrosity had torn its own image out of the Miraluka's mind, leaving only a confused shell in its wake? Drost was unsure, but he figured Serapis would be vital in uncovering those clues.

Once again, a faint tremor in the force, and the Keshiri were free, once again serving their Protectos, unaware of the time just recently stolen from them. Drost shook his head in veiled disgust, finished his goblet, and grabbed another.

___

Drost was now more than a few drinks in, his mood noticeably cheerier under the effects of the Keshiri wine. He had tabled his previous line of thinking on Insipid for a later date. Boundless speculation and paranoia had a place after all, that being out of view from the source. A grand feast was not such a time.

For the duration of the feast, he had not moved from his initial seat, preferring the company of himself to his fellow Sith. It was a Sith's nature to backstab one another, and in his currant state, he doubted if he could react accordingly.

Insipid once again began speaking, his voice echoing throughout the hall. He sure does like to make speeches.. Drost thought, chuckling to himself. The Emperor doled out missions for the assembled Sith, each being assigned to one of four separate tasks.

Only one of those missions interested Drost, for a multitude of reasons. Kamino, apparently a world known for its cloners. His ever present hunger for knowledge spurned him onward. Back in his time, before the forced stasis, the ability to clone a sentient being was considered nothing more than fantasy, the crazed desire of mad men. To hear that cloning was now not only possible, but to be done on a scale to create entire armies? That was something Drost needed to see.

The fact that Serapis was being taken there certainly didn't hurt either..

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the commotion caused by Soliloquy, Insipid, and Helinith, which he watched with a mixture of awe and fascination. Their transformations were incredible, ever more proof of their power and abilities. Drost activated one of the many button-sized recording devices scattered across his robes, saving the affair for later study. And study them he shall, for the winged beast Insipid had transformed into bore resemblance to something Drost had recently seen..

The commotion ended as quickly as it began, leaving Drost alone with his recording. With a few taps on his datapad, the recording was saved, split apart, and backed up among a number of separate devices. Another addition to his collection.

He quickly located the trio of Helinith, Renn, and Serapis clustered around a nearby table. Close enough that he couldn't remain by himself any longer. Draining the last his goblet, Drost rose to his feet, slinking over to the trio with muffled footsteps.

He paused midstep as the smaller of the three activated a lightsaber. That one must be Helinith..I think..

He waited for a lull in their conversation, before raising his voice. "I understand you three are departing to the world of.. Kamino.." He paused, committing the world's name to memory. "I would be honored if you allowed me to tag along.."

Tags: @Sinrebirth @darthhelinith , @darthbernael (mentioned briefly), @Darth Kronos (mentioned briefly), @WookieeRage (mentioned briefly) , @Mitth_Fisto (mentioned briefly)

 

Darth Cocytus

Darth Cocytus eyes narrowed as Darth Insipid presented him and his fellows to the purple people. The kaminoan did not expect to have a feast from the Keshiri before his mission to Kamino with Soliloquy but he did not refuse himself such enjoyment entirely. He took just enough food and just enough to drink to settle his needs and wants for the coming journey which was quite a modestly small size dish and glass. Too much would cloud his mind and later prove to be a hindrance on not just his missions and command over the force.

The Kaminoan glanced at Soliloquy as he lightly sipped his wine, not sure if she could still be trusted. It was she who discovered the Sidious AI that now rests within his mind along with him. How many others knew of that incident, Cocytus could only guess as his attention turned to the other droid, Trayus who would also be joining them. He was smart enough to know that the droid was being sent to “babysit” him by Insipid, who Cocytus knew for a fact to know about his connection with Sidious.

“Such a shame we won’t be able to get you a new body on Kamino with that thing watching our backs.” Cocytus spoke to his master within his mind as he ate some meat, “I was hoping we could use this mission to our advantage, but alas…. Guess we have to be more patient. It took Darth Bane’s Order a thousand years to carry out it goal with you destroying the Jedi and the Old Republic. We can wait just as long if needed to restore that very same Order.”

@Sinrebirth, @Mitth_Fisto and the others.

 

IC: Darth Helinith
Location: feasting defensively

Helinith opened her mouth but Renn got there before her.

"Drost, if I remember the names correctly, unfortunately you are mistaken. Kamino is not our destination, Coruscant is, for now."

His head turned fractionally, and with a glint in his eye he winked slowly and deliberately at Helinith. "By the way have you chosen who you would like to be your new master?"

Helinith's eyes narrowed and she hissed. She leapt in front of the droid containing Serapis, and her hand moved to her belt for the second time within a couple of minutes.
"I hope you're not eye-ing up mine. He's taken and I don't share." She glared at Azeth and growled.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @Silvertough, @darthbernael , @DarthIshyZ

Sent from my left elbow using Tapatalk

 

IC: Azeth Drost
Kesh: Great Hall

Drost raised an eyebrow suspiciously at the pair. "Coruscant you say? Ah, my mistake then." He said, focusing more on keeping his balance. "I must have misheard our Emperor's orders then." He finished, adding extra emphasis to the word.

The smaller one, Helinith, suddenly sprung forwards towards him, in an obvious threat. In response, Drost' lightsaber released from the hidden holster inside the sleeve of his robe, sliding out unactivated into his open right palm.

"As for choosing a Master.. No, I haven't fully decided yet.." His voice lowered, a thumb rising up against the ignition switch of his lightsaber in preparation. "I was last apprenticed under Ravenous.. I'm sure you both can understand my reservations on jumping into a new apprenticeship without careful-"

Drost's words petered off, interrupted by a large limb gently but forcefully pushing him away from the small female in front of him. He "eyed" the one responsible, who appeared to simply end the confrontation without conflict. He shrugged and nodded, his lighstaber once again disappearing into the sleeve of his robe. "All right all right, I'm going, I'm going. Sheesh.."

He slowly made his way away from the trio, stumbling every now and then, happily under the effects of the Keshiri wine..

Tag: @Sinrebirth , @darthhelinith , @darthbernael