Star Wars New Sith Trials II: Rise of the Hand

Combo post with two very cool people Sinrebirth & Mitth_Fisto

Somewhere...

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Two Stormtroopers standing guard outside the room currently occupied by the Sith Emperor and his former apprentice, looked over at one another, scrunching faces and furrowing brows under their pristine white helmets as they both heard a high pitched, drawn out howling sound coming from beyond the door. The howl was one of pain, of mourning, but the two guards struggled to refrain from sniggering at just how false and dramatic it sounded. A wolf declaring it’s unity with the moon.

It was not false. Darth Anark – deranged and riddled with confusion, as was not uncommon of him even on a good day – paced the length of the room, up and down, up and down, wailing and muttering incoherently to himself as he tried to piece together what this all meant.

Something had been amiss to him since the Sith they arrived in this new… place. He’d held his composure up until now and even through the ceremony on New Moraband which he’d attended in hologram. But this Grand Admiral had obviously sent the two of them here for a reason which contributed to Anark’s suspicions.

The Sith stopped dead in his tracks and raised his head to level a dark glare of scorn at Insipid, communicated only through his yellow eyes as the rest of his face was concealed by his makeshift mask. The God Emperor was restrained in a tank of frozen liquid, a compliment of automated weapons trained on him should he attempt to escape the powerful Mandalorian Iron.

Anark’s bitter expression switched in an instant to a deadpan face of stone. He began to walk towards the man who tutored him in the ways of the Dark Side, his robe gliding just above the shining linoleum floor, it’s white woven edges catching the light of a single lantern barely kindling the large, dark room. He brought two gloved hands up to his face and removed his mask. It’s black plates shifted with a clank as the breathing mechanism disengaged and he let it drop from his grip and hit the floor with a further clank. The Sith raised his arms and places his palms on the tank, looking into the Emperor’s face and showing a half-formed grin while simultaneously seeing his own reflection twisted and distorted through the frozen liquid.

This felt wrong. He should have taken out the turrets on the wall and freed Insipid at once as soon as the Stormtroopers left the room. But he wanted answers, answers about Jakku, the desert planet he’d supposedly awoken from stasis on, the battle that never happened?

He locked eyes with the Emperor, remaining mindful to maintain an amount of respect in his voice and cleared his now strained throat before he spoke.

“Would you care to explain a few things, my Lord?”

The Emperor's eyes searched at his former apprentice. There was an edge. But the proper tone, to an extent. No sarcasm. From what he could ascertain over the speaker into his tank.

Insipid spoke beneath the mask, adhered to his face. 'Perhaps you should tell me, my old apprentice.'

He subtly allowed a slither of the Force to make contact with the Holocron.

'But I would point out that it was necessary to be sure the ritual worked before relying upon it, no?'

Anark began to feel a tremor in the Force, almost as if another was present in the room. He pivoted around and back again when he saw that nobody was there. He shrugged it off and placed his hands on the tank again, gazing through it at Insipid's warped form with deep thought apparent in his expression.

"What ritual?..." It came out as a whisper directed at the floor.

Suddenly he head butted the glass hard.

"No!"

His head snapped back up to meet the Emperor's eyes.

Tell me, when did my life cease to be real and instead become an illusion?"

Insipid smiled beneath the mask, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth. 'When you lost the Battle of Jakku. When the dark side was failed in this universe.'

'I have a time from which I yanked you, but I would not bequeath this upon you. Not yet.'

The God-Emperor guided his words to his apprentices ears, sending them along the currents of the Force. Not here, not now.

The God-Emperor wove an illusion along the glass. He concealed even from Anark the spidering of the crack he had just inflicted. To the Holocron however, he allowed it to be known. He even allowed the Holocron to be aware that Insipid had hid such a reality from Anark... And from those watching.

'I would know about the Battle. None of the Imperials I have met were there. Thrawn alludes to his presence but I have yet to meet him in person. He remains aloof. Separate. Protecting himself from my power.'

Eyes narrowed.

Time kept slipping, for how long it did not know and could not fathom. It was as it was, but being un-moored in time. It was disconcerting to say the least. Having no appreciation for a time for the passage of time which was what gave context to these moments and situations it was in left it reverting to a base notion. What am I? I am small. And so on and so forth through the loops for a time. Until it once more was to realize that being sewn into a robe was the true present and not a remembered past.

Still it hid and took it all in to see where and what and why's of all it would yet and could yet be. When the one who 'wore' him into the room talked with Insipid it did not. It listened and heard those shared words in the enlightened fashion of the mind. Saw the cracks and shimmering false truths. It in turn caressed those cracks causing them to spread a little farther, sending it's own feelings of approval to the Emperor's abilities, truly there was not much it could teach him about perfecting his art, and it let him get that feeling as well from it in return. Still times came and went, and soon it was time to let the one who wore it know there was truly another here. No matter how amusing that spin and looking about had been.

{Time is such a slippery thing. To pulled through or even just one's awareness out of it is a jarring reality without focus. Keep your focus, what truly matters?} It mentally asked of both of them. Threats and signs did not matter now. Now was for the feeling out of each other, and discussions.

Anark's eyelids clenched tightly shut when he heard the voice, three wrinkles tugging at the corner of each eye as a wicket grin cracked across his face. It was not the same voice he usually heard that was always accompanied by thoughts racing through his brain at lightning speed and a crippling sense of paranoia. This one was relatively passive and one he didn't hear with his ears - it came more as a thought, and yet it felt like a very real entity in the room.

He reached a hand down to his belt and skimmed two fingers across the cold hilt of his weapon.

"I am here." He murmured. "I am Sith."

He cast his eyes back to Insipid, knowing full well that the Dark Lord could burst free from the tank if he chose. He could probably kill Anark with a shard of the very glass that currently imprisoned him without a great deal of labor.

He kept his gaze on Insipid as he spoke but he found himself directing a question to the Other that was present. He crouched down low, the grin still beaming, and contorted his gloved fingers into arachnid-like shapes, tapping them along the ground.

"What are you, little friend? Where are you hiding?"

{I am Soliloquy. The name is mine and ours alone. In the past it may have granted insight, but like Insipid I never existed here, and I did so much for the Sith and the grey. I wonder if I am not the missing piece, but that is hubrus. Yes? Besides it does not matter, he pulled me here like you. Can you appreciate even that in your focused zeal?} It did not reveal where it was as it shared mentally with them both. That was something for the one who made him go unwillingly and unwittingly to do.

For now it was just another piece of the fabric, another section of the weaving, and it reinforced that pattern until even in and to it's own mind it slipped and bobbed upon the truth that it was truly just the fabric, nothing more.

"A friend." Darth Anark fumbled up from the floor and rose to his full height. He felt a deep rumble in the Force as he attempted to seek out the whereabouts of Soliloquy.

Nothing.

He turned back to Insipid. He so badly wanted to kill him. He hadn't committed murder since Mortis, and those had been defensive kills for the most part.

He addressed the empty darkness of the room behind him.

"Soliloquy, we have both been wrenched from our respective times, both taken when we were perfectly capable of surviving on our own in solitude. Won't you let yourself be seen?"

He waited for some sort of response, his eyes scanning around the room in his still head.

Darth Insipid allowed a mental tug at the Holocron, ripping it free from the robe and leaving an unsightly hole in Anark's robes. The Holocron rotated in front of the two of them, and all of a sudden alarms were echoing.

Darth Insipid spoke aloud. 'I do apologise Soliloquy.' And the God-Emperor smashed the Holocron into the centre of the spidering glass.

The Holocron was fine; the glass less so. The water flooded to the floor and in a moment the cables and tubes attached to his arms snapped free, releasing a certain amount of blood, and wrapped around Anark's throat.

The Holocron rolled to the ground, floating in the knee height water that now covered the floor. When the doors to the room opened and four Stormtroopers were apparent with guns ready, the water flowed out of the doorway.

Insipid simply looked at them as he stepped free of the glass, robes drenched. His red eyes flared and he positioned Anark between himself and the troops.

Their sight locked.

'Well, former apprentice?'

He had suspected a holocron but couldn't be certain until he saw it before his eyes. A gleaming relic he so wanted to possess, the kleptomaniac that he was; he still had Lord Manticore's dislodged horn from The Battle of Coruscant a universe ago.

As the cables snaked around his neck Anark panicked as he felt his oxygen supply become limited, gasping and choking he felt the Emperor's tremendous grip through the Force and realised he was being used as a human shield against the incoming Stormtroopers.

The enraged Sith felt the cables tighten even more when he kicked up some of the rising liquid, aiming desperately for Insipid's eyes.

The white-clad guards entered the room and the first blaster shot was fired. Anark summoned his saber and deflected it just in time. The trooper was struck and fell back, disappearing into a watery grave. The second bolt he caught in his hand, deflected a few more with his blade then released the one in his palm, it connected with the troopers helmet, sending white shards flying through the air.

As the two remaining troopers opened fire he produced a Force barrier to take the hits as the pressure on his began to make him dizzy. He tried to get his fingers in between the wire and his neck, not daring to attempt to cut it with his lightsaber.

The panic and fury built and built. The wires round his windpipe seemed like living things as they continued to strange him. He hated Insipid, and hated even more the fact that he'd been readying himself to aid and protect his former master should the rest of the Sith turn on him after his treachery.

Anark was overcome with anger and felt a unfamiliar, unpleasant tremor reverberate through his entire body. Like an unstable volcano.

His eyes glazed over.

The volcano erupted.

He burst forth with the Force as the Force barrier catching the blasts started to weaken and produced a deafening sound he realized in the next moment was a Force Scream. A powerful one.

The Stormtroopers helmets looked like tin cans crushed between the mightiest of grips as their lifeless bodies dropped to the floor and the wire around his neck snapped and settled round his shoulders. He dropped to his knees as he felt the all the energy leave his body. It had been a huge exertion of power. He felt the liquid on the floor soak through the fabric that covered his legs. He took some comfort in the fact that this had probably had some effect on Insipid, even if it was the last move the young Sith ever made.

As it was torn from the false reality by the other that already knew the truth of it. It was not fabric, stitching or anything so crass. It was a holocron, and no matter what the Sith actually said or believed it was not their's, nor would it ever truly be.

The apology was warning enough even as the sirens blared. It did rather approve of utilizing blunt objects for situations, but to be honest it could not remember the last time it had been used as such. As it braced for impact it pushed out at the cracks, softening the blow needed to spread them fully.

Still, there are times when protective wards and lack of sensitive exterior were truly great books. Not that it wasn't immensely upset about having been used as a prize rock to escape prison by an over powered body-hopping psycho with delusions of grandeur to make Vitiate's look tame.

Being immediately dropped into or with the rushing water only helped to solidify that point of view. As it bobbed like an oversized fishing tell in the knee high water a small projection of an elderly woman. Dathomiri, if one recognized the tattoos. Began speaking even as the doorway opened, siphoning away the down the hallway and Soliloquy as well. "These are the combined tales of my Sister's, beginning with myself, Daka. My story began a long time ago, in a universe that no longer exists..." It continued to drone on even as the guards died screams passed on into the void. It had nothing else to add anyway.

Darth Insipid noted the beginnings of a skirmish between his former apprentice and the troopers. The holocams and other technical tricks and traps were shattering as the battle continued, usually ripped by a subtly diverted bolt.

With some judicious manipulation of the ways in which the cameras recorded matters, it would appear that his former apprentice had gone mad and tried to kill him, and also the troopers.

Darth Insipid released the chords and flung his former apprentice bodily into the wall of the cell. It would hurt, but simultaneously he would cushion the landing. With a gesture he dissipated the shots that more arriving troopers began to fire, and the chords flew up and bound them together - incapacitated not injured. In a brief moment, Darth Insipid was striding out of the cell and flinging the troopers down the hallway on their backs as an officer rushed up to confront him.

'Captain,' snarled Insipid as he eyed the bobbing Holocron and tugged it to his hand, mentally caressing it with a further apology. 'You appear to have aloud a member of my Order to attend the ship with a weapon to hand. This has resulted in a threat upon my life and your men firing at me.' Insipid shook water out of his robes as the man spluttered in front of his dozen or so men. No. Two dozen. Down the opposite end of the corridor more were arriving, spreading out so they could all fire on them.

'I do not feel safe being held here for medical treatment any further.' A lie. Thrawn likely had not told the men about their prisoner to avoid curiosity, however. So more of a gamble. The God-Emperor slowly pointed and tugged his former apprentice out into the corridor. 'This man is my former apprentice, sent to kill me by my subordinates. I would take him into my care, and leave yours.'

Darth Insipid held Anark up until he found his feet and then let him stand. His lightsaber was upon the God-Emperor's belt. It floated back to Anark in a gesture of trust.

Anark had been too good a bait for Thrawn to pass up. He had sent Anark to Insipid to test the latter, and possibly to end him, but Insipid had used Anark to leverage his escape. The fight had broken him free, the footage would reveal, not Insipid simply deciding not to be held captive any longer.

Insipid wanted to give Anark opportunity here, and so he paused briefly. Anark could still cause a problem. But the troopers shifted their attention to Anark and the weapon floating by him.

Darth Insipid took a soft and slow step back from Darth Anark, smiling genially.

Anark's eyes followed Insipid as he retreated, and then darted to the silver and black hilt suspended in the air, as it drew nearer he held out a hand and held it, he looked at it as if he'd never seen it before. Time seemed to slow as he craned his neck back. The God-Emperor was going to let him live after his... behavior. Soliloquy was wise, the present was what truly mattered.

He cocked his head at the man who had sculpted him into the Sith he now was.

"Even?"

A smirk, and then he ignited his weapon, eyes remaining trained on Insipid's, he torpedoed the saber into a ventilation fixture on the ceiling half way down the corridor. Sparks flew and it creeked as it became unhinged on one side. He smashed his elbow hard into the Imperial Captains jaw then leaped forward and rolled on the ground, upper cutting another stormtrooper in the chin as he came back up, then back-hand-punching his buddy before calling the saber back to him, severing the other fitting on the ventilation shaft as it returned to his palm. The large durasteel bulk cracked the floor when it landed. He channeled the Force to send it flying towards eleven troopers spread out throughout the other end of the corridor, taking care not to hurl it too hard.

Blaster fire resumed from all directions now. Anark disengaged his weapon and jumped up, grabbing hold of the hanging pieces of metal from his handiwork and using his momentum to swing through the air, spreading his legs and leveling a kick with each boot at two more assailants. He could feel the captain begin to regain consciousness. A few more troopers - these ones clad in black - traversed the wreckage he'd hit the others with but he threw a Force push at them as they were clambering, sending them flying against the adjacent wall.

He was out of breath when he turned round to deflect the blaster bolts that started behind him, three troops with annoyance and desperation apparent in their stances. Anark charged towards them, still deflecting shots until he reached them. He grabbed one in a headlock, used him to knock another to the floor and grabbed both helmets once they were downed, slamming the back of their heads into the floor.

Searing pain erupted in his shoulder as a bolt from the remaining trooper's E-11 hit him.

He winced and breathed in deep, grasping the smoking gash.

He quickly ignited his light saber again. The trooper kept his blaster pointed at him but didn't fire, waiting for the right moment. Anark focused on the black voids of the helmets eyes and began to stalk back and forth, smiling his opponent in an attempt to taunt him. After a moment of no action, he put a hand over his own eyes, lifted his head to the ceiling and began spinning round and round, jumping rapidly up and down as he went, his scarlet blade humming and growling in the air.

The stormtrooper finally pulled the trigger and Anark - not entirely confident - caught it and deflected it back to his enemy's kneecap, eliciting a filtered wail of pain and causing him to drop to the ground.

Insipid smiled. Anark caught the cue. He went on a rampage. Now Insipid need simply save them; and they'd be shuffled off the ship.

With a raising of two of his hands, he unleashed a blaze of lightning that was all but a torrent of energy upon Anark. 'Enough!'

He absently noted his lightning was now crimson. He also wouldn't notice that it was also a lot more potent.

Anark's eyes bulged as the strange lightning seemed to scorch his insides, searing him to the bone, his convulsive shaking evened out slowly into hysterical laughter until Insipid ceased his attack. He noted the Emperor's response to his truce and the Dark Side itself seemed all the more beautiful to him.

He sprinted over to the nearest dead stormtrooper, the parts of his robes that had been soaked were now emitting smoke and crackling. He jumped on the lifeless body, landing with his knees atop the charred white armor and proceeded to beat down with both fists on the helmet, over and over again, the bellowing laughter still going full force for a few moments before gradually quieting down to the clearing of the throat and his face untwisting, becoming placid once more.

In a radical transition of emotion, his thoughts moved to his own new apprentice.

He only hoped he could build and rear like his own ex-mentor. But no, he was not an ex-mentor, he could still learn from Insipid, and without an Empire, there could be no Emperor. All the Sith breathed life into one another.

TAG: Nobody really.​

 

Jagall Neidav IC:
~Alongside the Moff, New Moraband~

He sat quietly in his seat on the shuttle headed for Zakuul, a name he would still use quietly in his head as the new one didn’t suit it in his opinion, and kept his head bowed in thought and a basic meditative trance. Not one through the Force, no, just a simple one to clear his thoughts and take in what was going on around him. Which wasn’t much.

The Stormtroopers kept quiet as they were escorts, as professional as one would expect under the service of Grand Admiral Thrawn. It was something he even respected.

Of course, he himself was an escort now. To Moff Esmeralda. One of the mysterious and recent converts to the Empire of the Hand, somehow intimately intertwined with the Sith that had arrived on their doorstep.

Naturally, he attempted pleasant greetings and conversation, but all for naught as the woman didn’t dare even respond to him. As a seeming extension of the Sith, he supposed this was to be expected. Sighing, he remained silent the rest of the way, though he quietly gauged her emotions now and again just to make sure things were all right.

Her unhappiness was palpable, even without the Force to feel it. There was a ton of conflict inside her. Was she truly a friend to the Sith? Connected absolutely, but what was that connection exactly? Jagall would simply observe and find out. There was much to learn in the coming days.

Soon enough they landed in the hangar in the Temple of the Sith within the newly rechristened city of Sanctorium. That was a name he did like. The new tenants?

Let’s just say the jury was still out on that one.

As the Moff rose, so did he as well, his white robes shifting with his movements and they began toward the unloading ramp. Unable to contain himself, wanting to assure the woman kindly, he said the one thing he could even if she didn’t reply.

“I am sure someone will be there to see you, do not worry, Moff Esmeralda.”

Couldn’t help it, some of her thoughts were quite palpable indeed even if he wasn’t trying to actually feel them out. He at least could be comforting regarding it. Granted, she’d probably be annoyed, but oh well.

As they descended he came out just behind the Moff and her Stormtroopers, hands casually at his sides and calm though his eyes took everything in around him.

While they moved he managed to the get a glimpse of another tall human man with dark hair, as long as his own, just finishing the stroking of his long, sable cloak. An eyebrow quirked momentarily before relaxing.

So. Was that what he was in for? Were all Sith fashionistas and patrons of fine clothing or was this one just a unique individual amongst them? Who could say.

Clearly he was waiting for them and for some reason, felt rather intent on the Moff personally. Interesting, he would keep his eyes trained on him. Indeed, should the two of them approach each other, Jagall would quietly insert his presence immediately alongside the Moff. Not threateningly, just as a precaution as he knew full well the stories of Sith betrayal and barbarism. He didn’t care if they knew each other well or not, fact was, he was the Moff’s personal escort for the time being. Thrawn and the new Grand Moff’s orders, they’d have to get over it.

The Jedi would nod once in greeting however. At the very least, he could see if this one was somewhat civil.

Tag: Sinrebirth Darth Kronos

 

IC: Darth Leda
Ceremony Hall, Citadel, New Moraband

Leda was trying to remain relaxed, leaning back in her seat quite casually with one leg crossed over the other. She had only picked at her food, taken one or two sips of wine and was trying but failing to listen to her Emperor speak. Her surroundings were just too distracting, too fascinating.

Having no regard for whether or not she was being rude, she instead had been exuberantly staring at all those in attendance whether in the flesh or via electronic means. Many faces she knew despite having never exchanged a word with the beings that they belonged to. Leda had always made a point to be intensely aware of her fellow Sith, especially those that made names for themselves, those with a drive and loyalty that matched her own. The young warrior noted a few in particular she was simply dying to meet.

As an aside to her, it appeared a great deal of worry and consideration was being given to the fact that the Empire had been forced to travel over time to escape the clutches of the malicious and all-encompassing Typhojem. Thinking on that made her roll her eyes. It made no difference when, where, why, or how; her home was wherever the Sith were. She would follow the Empire anywhere and to any time. It was all she had.

Her uniquely bright gaze continued sweeping the room as the traitorous Darth Haretisch took his turn. Well, perhaps not a traitor anymore. He was here wasn’t he? Still listening only half-heartedly, her gaze suddenly locked on a familiar red-head. Ah, there you are, she thought with a lop-sided smile. Watching Syren, Leda knew she would have to corner the wily assassin at some point. Since they had settled in the Citadel, she had restrained herself from marching right up to her room. Not because she thought it would be inappropriate but because she understood protocol. With a last look, she turned her attention to the Dawn Herald as she toyed with a pair of apprentices. Leda chuckled under her breath. She admired Lady Bellorum’s no nonsense approach and hoped to work with the Triumvir one day. And just like that Leda was addressed by name.

"Cocytus and Leda will be joining Hesper. You'll be receiving a message detailing when and where to meet in a few hours for the briefing. Ravenous will be joining once he's...uh, done," the Dark Lady commanded. Leda had no real clue who Cocytus was besides his species; Kaminoans were rather intriguing to her in that she’d never conversed with one but Lady Hesper and the formidable Darth Ravenous… Leda knew exactly who they were. Instantly gripped with an excitement that sent her straight up in her seat and plastered a large grin across her face, she could hardly believe her luck.

Envy of those with more power and prestige had always worked to push and motivate her. A mission with the mighty Wookiee and the Butcher of Coruscant? An ideal situation indeed. She would’ve loved to have a moment to introduce herself to the latter but the petite High Lord had excused herself from the festivities before she could make her move. No matter, she’d get her chance soon.

Standing and wiping a smear of blood from her cheek, Leda was unaffected by the heap of bodies and displaced organs that had been left in the Dawn Herald’s wake. It was time to prepare.

~

Not the Ceremony Hall

Having changed into attire that consisted of the light-weight and flexible armor she favored, she was just fastening a long braid of pale hair when her comm sounded.

"This is Lady Hesper. Report to my shuttle in one hour, prepared for our mission. I will brief you all on your assignments once aboard the shuttle; do not be late."

Leda acknowledged the order and gave a curt nod to herself. Securing her lightsaber to her belt and snatching a small prepared bag from her bed, she abruptly turned to leave for the hangar.

Her? Late? Never.


TAGS: corinthia Lady Belligerent Darth Cocytus WookieeRage

 

IC: Darth Alva
Ceremony hall/ Hanger/ New Moraband

As the minutes passed Alva knew his master would be arriving at the hanger soon. He stood from his chair looking in the direction he needed to go. " I shall see you all at the hanger" nodding his head towards his fellow Sith seated near him. Alva would make his way down the corridors as streams of stormtroopers in formation would pass by to their proper battle stations.

The walk to the hanger would be no more than a few minutes as he turned the final corner. Alva reached behind his back and gripped the handles of his daggers checking and tightened the straps holding the sheaths in place. He would then reach for the hilt of his lightsaber, removing it from his left side. Holding it tightly in his hand he gave it a quick activate, slowing swinging it from side to side. Once satisfied he clipped it right back to left side from his right hand.

The hanger was alive with activity as Sith, commanders, captains,and troopers gave and were given orders

Alva walked over to his fighter. "Ah Master Alva" said a maintenance droid "Are the diagnostics for my fighter complete?" asked Alva. "Yes, all of the SR1's systems are fully functioning" the droid paused "Though I must say the format of your fighter is quite different from our standard fighters, its blueprints were never finalized. If I may ask, how did it come in your possession?" Alva smirked, looking at his ship "I came right in and flew away with it one day." The droid looked at Alva "Oh I see..will nevertheless your fighter is ready sir."

"Good" Alva walked away, awaiting for his master to appear. He knew his master was strict when it came to Alva's punctuality, as well with many other things. Torturous training sessions that would test Alva physically and mentally were a daily routine. When Alva would failed his master would punish him severely stating that weakness and sympathy were not the ways of the dark side. All of this would hopefully make Alva a stronger Sith in the order.and only time would determine his fate in the dark side.

Alva waited, thinking deeply as was his custom. He knew his allegiance was to his master and the Sith, though a small thought would always return. Were there secret plots being schemed? Betrayals on the horizon as was normal and customary of the Sith? Only time would determine that fact as well.

Tag Darth_wanderguard Halle Dray Anakin.Skywalker Mikaboshi

 

Darth Hades and Lady Bellorum Combo
Lady Bellorums Chambers, Citadel, Sanctorium, New Moraband

Bellorum sat at her desk flipping through maps and other piles of flimsi for a few minutes after Hesper's departure. She poured another glass of wine and took a sip of the bitter liquid, "The Emperor's time would be better spent rebuilding his wine cellar instead of running around masquerading as a god,' she sighed and drained the glass.​

She'd felt the presence of Hades outside her chambers, and before he could request an audience she waved the door open. "Please enter, Lord Hades, I trust you've completed the project?"​

Hades entered at Lady Bellorum's behest, he stood, silent for a moment before her, and then bowed respectfully.​

Our friend is resting now. I suspect we will know more, very soon. It was a very...exhausting process.​

He was unsure of how where to begin his expression of thoughts. He suspected that Lady Bellorum was the best chance the Sith had for longevity.​

Mi'lady, how would you define the role of the Knights here among the Sith?​

The Dark Lady smiled softly, "It's a quandary to be sure currently," she sat back in her chair and motioned to the seat across from her. Bellorum was no fool, she knew that the survivors that had traveled through time from Mortis needed time to regain their place in the world. Not giving her support could mean the loss of another Sith, and they couldn't afford that. ​

"In seizing the opportunity that Grand Admiral Thrawn presented us, we have a new base of operations that's not too shabby," she waved her arm indicating the building surrounding them. "I won't speak for Haretisch or the Emperor, but I'm primarily focusing on rebuilding our collections," she paused a moment in thought, "but more importantly, our financial resources."​

Hades sat in the chair she motioned towards.​

​

Loyalty. That is what concerns me, Lady Bellorum. Every Sith Order to ever exist died because of scheming and plotting and backstabbing. I do not trust some of the Order, and as a Knight, Loyalty and Trust are necessary for me to fully be capable.​

He paused and looked down at the lightsabers on his belt.​

I am conflicted, Lady Bellorum. I left all those years ago, to find purpose, and failed. I did not trust those above me, and was too weak to make change. I have taken to the role of a Knight now, and I find this Order is peril. That peril is named Insipid.​

He was putting himself at risk here, but he needed to trust at least one Trimuvir.​

He will be the destruction of this order. He is no God, there are no Gods or Supreme Beings. There is only the Force. He would betray us all for more power, over and over. Tell me that I am mistaken, and our Emperor serves us as we serve him and I will speak of it no more. Assure me my loyalty is pledged to true.​

And then there is Haretisch, he betrayed us as well, but he...he has something to live for and to atone for.​

I need direction. I have always been sure in my decisions, but not now. I.....​

He paused and then just fell silent. Hades was a follower, he had done things on his own, but now, Abeloth and Typhojem had changed him. He questioned every choice he made, every decision. This was a feeling he had long thought conquered. Fear.​

He looked at Lady Bellorum intently and waited for her response.​

"If I didn't feel like he was trustworthy, I wouldn't have restored his title," Hades was a good being to have in her corner, and she had no intention of losing him. "I'm bringing you with me to the meeting with Lorekeeper shortly. In this meeting we will go over maps and form a plan to start gathering relics. We will start there and then I may need you for some special errands, if you're interested..." Her words trailed off and she grabbed a data card that was sitting on her desk. "It will be necessary to, ah...conceal some of the items we recover." Her eyes narrowed, "the Lorekeeper would not approve, so it will be necessary to keep that matter between us. I grew up in archeological dig sites and it shouldn't be difficult to decide what we keep for our collection, and what we sell."​

She handed Hades the data card and continued, "I'll need additional accounts set up and spread over a few planets, and I'll need a discreet seller to handle it. That might require some assistance from Jwob later on. Would you be up to a little antiquity smuggling?"​

Mi'lady, I am at your disposal, for any and all tasks. I need to be of service.​

He accepted the datacard and smiled.​

Before I came back to the Sith, I ran a gun market and criminal organization on Taris. I have ideas for your accounts and ways to hide assets. Avoid the Hutts, for one thing. Find smaller successful groups that we can easily bribe into helping us and a few politicians that we can bribe and blackmail.​

I would like to also suggest that, perhaps, Any Knights within the Order should meet and train together. We should be prepared to work together.​

Hades stood. ​

Meeting with the Lorekeeper sounds like an excellent idea. I can check on Ravenous. Shall I escort you?​

TAG: NONE

 

IC: Darth Ravenous (Mutated)
Dark Genesis...
Inside of this Husk...

*Heavy, Frantic Breathing.*

The... Wookiee opened his eyes, staring at the metallic ceiling, mostly in a daze. After a few moments he took his elbow down to prop up his torso, he was surprised to see a regrown arm where once resided a metallic prosthetic. Looking around the lab he saw it to be empty for the moment.

How long has it been?

Groggily, the beast rubbed his face, he was appalled by what he discovered. While he stroked his beard he found tendrils replacing his beard braids. They undulated and reciprocated the caress back unto the hand. Ravenous exclaimed in disgust.

"Kriff!! What the hell?!"

He quickly wiped his hand onto his leg fur and lumbered over to a nearby wardrobe, finding an oversized cloak large enough to drape over him. He put the hood up to cover his facade and quickly closed in upon the exit. The button didn't work when he activated so he activated it with a gesture.

Once outside, he hugged the walls, positioning himself so a shadow was cast upon his face as squads of Stormtroopers passed. He needed to find the Lorekeeper... Or Darth Hades. He needed to be sure he was complete. As he continued to roam the halls he came across a lone trooper in position to guard a restricted hall. As the Wookiee passed, four bone-tipped prehensile tendrils lashed out of his back, flapping his Cloak into the air. The upper right tendril pressed the lone trooper against the adjacent wall. He screamed out in pain but it was quickly muffled by Ravenous instinctively throwing himself upon the soldier. Once closed, the remaining tendrils wrapped around the helmet of the trooper. They clasped down and popped his head like a zit. The tendrils tossed the bloody plastic aside and the... Wookiee began to feast, it made him feel powerful, sustained. He simply discarded the corpse aside and continued onward. He could feel more through the Force, where people resided, what they felt. He began to track down his squad, the Dawn Herald, and his maker...

Tag:Lady Belligerent, Sinrebirth, Mikaboshi, Darth_wanderguard, E. L.Knight, Rest of squad (prepare yourself for a Sith spawn)

 

Combo with Lady Belligerent



Draconis and Hel
In a Cage

Hel stared straight ahead as the disgusting guard leered at her. Touch me and I'll gut you, she thought as she hung from the sticky wall. Her wrists and ankles were aching, not to mention the soreness from the rough handling they'd been subject to when they had been captured.

She'd honestly left with Draconis on this mission only to put some distance between herself and Haretisch, and look where that landed her. It was still hard to accept that she had a living father, and she didn't know exactly what she should be feeling as she had been taught that she was unworthy of feeling.

Sensing the guard was finally out of earshot, she spoke softly to Draconis. "Who are these clowns, and how they kriff do they have Force restraints?" Hel shifted slightly and grimaced as any bare skin touched the slime left behind from the last guest they'd hosted.

"I say we make a break for it when they let us down for food," she was still speaking in a slight whisper, "I'll die before I stay here longer and risk being raped by that bastard."

The ring of steel on steel reverberated as the vibration ran down the bars. Even shaking the chains that bound them. The stench of it all was rather ripe and pungent, the humid swamp and rotting prison smell a bouquet of scents all of it mixing with the stale air in their cell that they breathed in. Ah…. the familiarity of it all as Draconis felt the weight of the chains and bindings on his ankles and wrists. This time someone had gotten smart, eventually applying the force restraints.

Draconis was surprisingly calm as he slowed his breathing meditating, reaching out and communing with the darkside. He could feel Hel’s restlessness as her thoughts dwelt on many things. As her anger spiked directed back at the guards defiling remarks. Draconis smirked sadistically, wondering if someone would play with him as well?
Draconis and Hel had already dispatched several guards in the process of ending up in this cell, an extremely low number for their standards. The idea of the guard trying anything was amusing…

Draconis’ thoughts wander to Hel’s anger, he would have to teach her how to use that as an actual weapon one day… Draconis’ continued in his silent commune with his eyes closed. "Who are these clowns, and how they kriff do they have Force restraints?" Again Draconis could feel her restlessness as she shifted within the restraints in noticeable pain, not that Draconis did not feel the same as the restraints dug into his flesh equally. He was just channeling it better it seemed, again another lesson.
"I say we make a break for it when they let us down for food," she was still speaking in a slight whisper, "I'll die before I stay here longer and risk being raped by that bastard." Hel spoke softly as the guard had moved on. Draconis eyes opened as his head cocked towards her. “You don’t want to meet the Captain!?!?” In a non-serious rhetorical tone. Draconis could understand her concern and anxiousness of waiting to escape. They were in cell yes, but their captive were in far more danger and worse shape, they just did not know it currently. “Besides I want to see what they have on the menu.” Draconis’ tone could not have been any less serious, it would begin to rub off on Hel that a plan was in play. “And no-one will touch you…” Draconis’ demeanor became serious and protective. Draconis’ eyes closed again after making eye contact with Hel and trying to instill a modicum of confidence in her as he began to slip back into a meditative state.

“Calm yourself Hel. Just because your hands and feet are bound, does not mean you are defenseless.” A small pebble bounce of Hel’s head reminding her of the gift she had… the impact barely enough to cause a brief annoyance rather than any real pain. But Draconis hoped he made his point.

"Of course," Hel grumbled, "lifting pebbles and..." A globular wad of goo lifted from the floor beneath them, and she sat it on Draconis' head. It wiggled like a jelled dessert for a moment before flattening out to slowly drip down the sides of his head. "Tossing slime? Yes, that's it...doing those things will bust us out." She spoke with a healthy emphasis of sarcasm.

Sighing she added, "don't forget meditation because I'm sure that will help too!"

After her outburst, Hel shut her eyes and sulked, "I hope this captain comes soon, because this sucks," she muttered.
Draconis felt a bit of subtle amusement as the young Hel mocked him a bit, her inexperience somewhat expected. He felt the gob of solidified liquid on his head as it jiggled… as some of it dripped down his head, he purposefully did not flinch as it really did not bother him. Her rhetorical questions were amusing and given the circumstances and the fact that he was allowing the youthful exuberance of Hel to have somewhat of a leash to play on. She continued in her restlessness, her anxious statement regarding the captain dully noted. Draconis was awaiting his arrival as well, for different reasons.
Draconis breathed in, continuing in his meditation… as he let Hel continue on in her train of thought. Her doubt in her abilities needed to be twisted and purged.
Still and motionless. Draconis had been seeking, reaching, and working silently….

The force restraints kept both Hel and Draconis’ wrists and ankles restrained and bound… the combination of force restrains and metal bindings clearly keeping them from moving. Attached to chains and attached to the wall…. the anchors on the wall. Binding the chains in place. A solid connection, Draconis could see where previous beings in their same state had attempted to break free of this simple hell.

Draconis’ eyes opened again… as his head again turned towards her. He didn’t say anything… simply he let the situation speak for itself. As Draconis focused on what he had been working on…

The sound of concreate and stone grinding softly with a sudden lurch was followed by a slack chain… one of the binding anchors to her chains and subsequent wrist force bindings on her wrists gave way… a second chain attached to Draconis followed the same manner as one of Draconis’ chains went slack. The other chain attached to Hel’s the wrist binding wretched suddenly as the anchor and chain attached came loose form the wall. Force binding were still functioning and attached but they were not longer anchored onto the wall.

All of the bindings were subtly coming loose…. the anchors barely enough to feel that they were weak and pulling slightly away from the stone prison walls itself... giving the illusion that they were still intact… yet a simple subtle tug from either Hel or Draconis would free their arms and legs. Granted the force bindings would be attached but range of motion and ability clearly restored.


Draconis looked over meeting Hel’s eyes sternly glaring at her… the first part of the lesson clearly evident to her should she recognize it! She would clearly notice the slack in her bindings and chains and the anchors lack of support and weakness. It would be up t her if she recognized the trap they would be setting. Would she be patient and not give away the fact that their bindings were pulling from the wall and subsequently work on her own ankle bindings….

@Darth_wanderguard

 

Combo presented to you by Hansolo29 and A Blind Prophet

IC: Aryan Graul & Teafa Phaidraig/ Medbay/ Zakuul

They said his name was Dr. Red, a product of the institutionalized facility built into the swampy terrain of what Aryan had come to know as Zakuul. But those were the only names he knew; they didn't bother to tell him anything else. They insisted there was nothing to know, but Aryan suspected they just didn't trust him. Or rather, believed him to be too unhinged and possibly dangerous if provoked. While he might have scoffed at that notion under normal circumstances, he wasn't so sure anymore. When he had been sequestered to his private quarters within the facility, he had heard them talking amongst themselves within the corridors – something about mental instability, trauma and several other medical terms he could not immediately recall or begin to fully understand. Was that all true? Or a lie to force his compliance?

They said that Dr. Red had been assigned by a higher authority to 'fix' all of that through a series of therapy sessions – although Aryan had his suspicions about whether they were actually intended to do good, or just another way of vetting him for another purpose. Regardless of his idle thoughts, they had claimed that the good doctor would find that so-called 'balance' in order to ensure that he could have a productive life here on Zakuul...

And yet, when he looked at the young man, all he saw was...Insipid.

In fact, the resemblance was so striking, it made him uncomfortable. Aryan couldn't help but wonder if it had been done intentionally to mess with his mind further. It certainly seemed like the kind of cruel joke the Emperor would play on the hapless ex-Chancellor who found himself out of place and time. It was yet another reminder that he would forever be firmly within his grasp...not like he currently had the strength or the ambition to oppose such a decree, anyway. The man had saved his life, and he figured he owed him that much. But beyond that, he was simply too exhausted to care.

And so, as the session began, he remained rather impassive as he sat on the edge of the chair with his elbows resting on his thighs and his hands cupped near his lips to act as a sort of buffer. He took extra care not to reveal too many intimate details to this not-Insipid; not once did he dare make eye contact with the other man. But despite his caution, one name continued to come up over and over again – Teafa.

He had been agonizing over the young woman's condition ever since they had been forcibly separated back on the Stardust. By this point, he couldn't even begin to pinpoint how long it'd been since that fateful day – he had lost count a long time ago – but her absence was duly felt. Any inquiries to the staff pertaining to her current condition or whereabouts – much like his probes regarding their new home – had been relentlessly shutdown without a second thought. As a result, frustration had begun to set in, and he was becoming restless... he could not keep living in this world of isolation!

Fortunately, he was afforded a small window of hope in the form of a public broadcast from the Sith hierarchy. Not only did it provide a small glimpse into the world outside of these sterile walls, upon which Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Empire of the Hand were of key interest to his personal agenda, but it also offered a reprieve from the rather dull session with Dr. Not-Insipid. For that, he was eternally grateful for such an interruption.

"We are out of time today but I am fairly pleased with how that went," the doctor was saying as the transmission ended.

Aryan lowered his gaze from the viewscreen and cocked a brow curiously at the intrepid doctor. Pleased? Really. Well, he wasn't going to argue the fact, especially since he had no inclination of sticking around longer than was expected of him, but they certainly had two very different definitions of 'pleased.' Unless he merely meant that he had been cooperative, in which case, he could agree with that. He decided to settle for that explanation as he rose from the chair and remained cordial by forcing a smile.

"I shall see you again next week if you wish," the other man pressed with a hopeful smile.

I think not...

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they refused to surface as he approached the doorway. Instead, he hesitated and merely stared back at the doctor for a long moment. Once again, he was unnerved by the young man's uncanniness to Emperor Insipid. So much so, in fact, that when he did find the nerve to speak, it came out sounding more like a jumbled mess of guttural nonsense than an actual acknowledgement of the man's inquiry. On that embarrassing note, he didn't have much choice but to retreat. With a sloppy wave, he diverted his gaze and hurried from the room.

Upon exiting out through the waiting area, he stopped to throw himself down onto one of the plush couches lining the perimeter, his breath escaping him in an exasperated sigh. He was glad to be out of there, and while he was still trying to process everything that had recently transpired, it suddenly occurred to him that this was the first time that he had not been escorted from the infirmary by a member of the medical staff – had he finally been set free? With a scoff, he allowed his head to fall back against the cushions and he closed his eyes.

He needed a moment.

Annoyance coursed through Teafa at the surgeon stopping what he was doing simply so she could "watch" a speech. The man apparently couldn't comprehend that she could see it regardless of what he was doing, and she could certainly have heard so long as he remained silent. That changed when she heard what Insipid had to say, whom she had heard had sat with her throughout her time in the bacta tank before they had arrived on their new home... Zakuul she thought it was, though where in space that was supposed to be she had no real clue. Nor did she care. All that she knew was that this place, all of it, the entirety of this existence was wrong. Completely and utterly. She wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't a dream of some sort until Insipid mentioned that this was the only reality left.

Wrong! Wrong all!

Thunderstruck, she had never actually even considered the possibility of more than one reality in the first place, and now she was confronted with the fact that they were not only in a different one... but the only one. Here get... how? They do what? She heard everything else that was said by Insipid, about needing to make this place theirs, needing to conquer the planet, which she absently noted was given another name. It explained why everything felt off. Wrong! It explained why she could no longer feel the people she was connected to on Alpheridies... or even find the planet itself in the Force anymore. Wrong! And then it hit her like a ton of bricks. Her parents were completely gone, and given when in time they were, literally couldn't have even been born. Nor her grandparents. Mom... Dad... Never goodbyed. A profound sadness descended upon her. Talwar. See never. no. No. NO! Whether her expression had changed at all she couldn't actually tell, as she wasn't actually in that room anymore. She wasn't with the doctor, wasn't even really present on Zakuul anymore. Instead her mind was lost in the past, in her memories.

Alliana, her mother, getting after as she was running late for school, spatula in hand as she had been making breakfast when she came to check on her daughter who hadn't even moved from bed yet, the scent of cooking nerf finally enticing her from the warmth of her bed. The smell of hot cocoa with orchid bean extract that was her father's, Dasmid, favored drink whenever he settled down to relax for the evening and watch something on the holovid with the rest of his family. Her younger sister Caras pestering her to go to shopping when she had homework due, and ultimately winning. She flailed out with the Force, desperate to prove Inispid wrong. Gone? Can't find. Gone. Gone! It was enough to break her again, though this time in a far more normal manner. Talwar... The idea that she would never see her friend again, really the only man that she had ever felt like she could trust or be close to, was almost unbearable as the hole in her heart grew even bigger. Memories of them together, laughing over some stupid joke or him sticking a pair of straws up his nose and pretending to be a wallrut just to cheer her up. Talking about their hopes for the future or when something was overwhelming. Simply being held by him, especially early on when she was still trying to get past being taken by slavers. The first time they had spent the night together, and how it had left him hoping that they could be something more and the conversation about simply not being ready for more. All of it was gone, as though it had never happened. Perhaps she was the only miraluka even existence at this point. Being unable to sense her home planet certainly suggested as much. It was an utterly horrifying thought.

It was all she could do not to scream in pain and break down crying. But she refused to do that in front of this man who refused to answer any questions of actual use. She knew that his name was Gray, but she mentally referred to him as Doctor Clueless as she was hungry for knowledge of what was going on outside of the infirmary rooms she had been assigned to. All she had been allowed to do was some limited read on her datapad and watch entertainment holovids, and the lack of movement had been starting to drive her mad. She was a dancer, and needed that movement almost as much as she needed to breath. After her initial foray into the Force upon arriving here and finding everything different, WRONG!, and so many things missing, she hadn't been willing to dive back into that ocean, instead hoping that she was wrong. Instead she was confronted with a cruel reality that she had no idea how to cope with any better than she had with seeing Typhojem and Insipid in his god form. And what that had done to twist her understanding of the Force and life itself, opening up new abilities to her that she hadn't dared to explore yet. Being brutally honest with herself, they terrified her, and it made her wonder what other changes had happened beyond the obvious of her mind still putting itself back together into some form of functionality. The only part of her that did want to know was her curiosity.

While she saw who else spoke, the Night Herald, Dawn Herald and Ike, her mind was so much elsewhere, trying to hold back her emotions, compressing her presence in the Force so ruthlessly that there was no chance of anyone sensing her feelings, trying to break out of the cycle of memories, that she didn't actually hear any of what was said. After Abeloth, she refused to be seen as weak by any around her. She knew that the sith were predators, and there was nothing worse than to show weakness around that sort.

Absently she noted that Insipid wasn't actually on Zakuul, not that she had any clue where he was. It wasn't like they had actually had enough time together to form much of a bond of any sort, which raised the question: Why in the Force did he sit with her? What was she to him? As far as she was aware, while she was technically his apprentice, she was just a tool to be used and that was about it. She hadn't done anything worth noting so far as she was aware, and yet not only had the emperor of the sith sat with her, she had heard rumors of others suggesting she be elevated to an underlord? It made no sense to her, maybe it was just some political malarkey. Though what would make more sense to her was that it was actually nothing more than rumors.

Eventually, after Ike, who she was very glad that she hasn't run into considering Insipid had in fact died, Doctor Gray decided it was time to finish unwrapping her face. He was talking softly to himself, making some mental notes of the outcome of the surgery, or something along those lines. "There we go." He said softly as he unwrapped her nose and the rest of it came off quickly. "And we're done." He took the bandages over to a waste chute and tossed them in. It seemed odd that there wasn't a nurse there to assist him, but it seemed that they were isolated for a reason.

Manipulating her face, trying to stretch out the stiffness and weirdness that resulted from the surgery, Doctor Grey came back over to her with a mirror. "How does it look!?" he asked with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, practically beaming. It was the most emotion she could remember hearing out of him the entire time she had been there. Proud of work? Guess. She turned her face to the mirror for a second and then turned back to the Doctor and gave him a blank look.

"No eyes. Mirror no good." She noted that the Doctor seemed slightly flustered and deflated as she said that, and he put the mirror back on the counter. Instead she reached up and began to feel her face, taking note of a few things that were different. Wrong! Just like everything else here it just didn't feel right. It might have been the extremely new skin that had been coddled while everything solidified and healed, but when combined with everything else it was just the last straw. Anger at the reality she found herself in, at everything she knew and loved being gone, at Insipid for bringing her to Mortis in the first place, at the Typhojem for destroying her mind and face, at herself for not being strong enough to actually handle everything boiled up into her wiping away the sadness that had been there.

Doctor Gray seemed to note as she clinched her jaw, and said in a soothing tone, "I'm sorry if it isn't exact, but the damage was extensive and there were limited pictures for me to use as a reference. But it is as close to Emperor Insipid's specifications as medical science is capable of getting, I assure you of that." He cleared his throat, noting that none of the tension in her face eased in the slightest. "If-"

"Is fine," Teafa said in a monotone, interrupting him. And it was. She knew that the differences were slight, and the skin didn't feel like it was synth, so that was something. Not monster. Not. Taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself while she remained in the Doctor's presence, she asked, "Am done?" She wanted out of that room. Out of that building. She needed to move. Do something.

Several seconds passed in which Doctor Gray simply looked at her and then his datapad, back and forth, clearly checking her charts. "Yes, that should be it. I would avoid doing anything particularly strenuous for a day or so while your face gets used to being used again, but everything should be fine." He handed her a piece of flimsi, "Here's your official medical release." She could tell that he didn't think that she was ready to be released from a mental point of view, and he'd have been very right. But no one had bothered to send her to a therapist during her time here, and she wasn't about to ask. She would figure it out on her own. Just like she had when she was rescued from the slavers, though she'd had Talwar then. Gone! A stab of pain followed the thought, but she was completely on her own now. She hadn't heard a word from or about Ravenous, her master was the Force knew where, Ike would possibly kill her should they cross paths again because technically Insipid had died, and the only other person that she even knew their name because they had met was Aryan Graul, and that was only because he had saved her life.

Taking the flimsi, she gave it a quick once over, but there wasn't much on it other than stating that he was officially releasing her and his signature and thumbprint. Standing up from the exam table, she said, "Thank you," again in that same monotone and pushed her way through the sliding door, not paying Doctor Gray anymore attention. Odds were she wasn't going to run into him again, which suited her just fine.

As she walked into the waiting room her mask of control crumbled and she began trembling in fury as she moved through the room. About halfway through she lost it, and screaming she reached out with the Force and swept everything off of the table she was next to and pelted the couch with the various bits and pieces that were on it. Then she picked the table up and slammed it into the ground repeatedly until it was a broken and misshapen lump, almost missing the startled yelp that came from the couch. Then she did it again to another one. And another, until there was little left in the room that wasn't strewn about the room in some capacity or another.

Feeling slightly better, she started walking again, then it hit her what she had just done. Could have hurt. Should check. Not me. Shouldn't do. Shouldn't. She turned back and noticed that the man she had thrown things at was Aryan Graul. She opened her mouth to say something, but found that she had no clue what. Instead her mind was swirling yet again, trying to figure out who she had become. Not me. Who am? Lose control no. I no. Why? Who? Who...? Who me? Her mouth closed and opened a couple of times before she fell to her knees and started sobbing, completely overwhelmed by the fury, sorrow and pain that was tearing her heart to pieces.

For several moments, the world simply turned as Aryan lay winded upon the couch, his arms raised above his head in a defensive position as the temporal storm consisting of datapads, flimsies and other small objects subsided around him. He did not immediately trust himself to move out of fear of being pelted again, and so, he waited until he was certain the attack was over and silence reigned once more. Only then did he begin to shift and regain his bearings. When he was fairly confident that he wasn't harboring any serious injuries, he winced and drew his gaze upward to survey the damage.

The diminutive waiting room was in utter chaos; tables had been upturned and smashed into literal pieces and random objects were strewn haphazardly around the small space after having been swept up in a whirlwind of energy…the same energy that had apparently sent the objects sailing directly for his head. Aryan stifled a groan and slid to the edge of the couch as he began to rise. He had been around the Sith long enough to recognize a Force attack. But the question remained – who had initiated it? And why?

That's when he saw her standing in the middle of all of the carnage.

"Teafa?" he called with some relief, the attack momentarily forgotten as his emotions drew inward.

He inhaled deeply and tried to stifle a grin as his heart began to beat more rapidly within his chest. It was almost surreal to see Teafa up and about…and fully recovered. He noted that her face had been restored to its natural state after having been maimed by Typhojem. The doctors here were truly miracle workers. He idly wondered how long it had taken them to painstakingly reconstruct her features so accurately.

A scowl suddenly darkened his countenance.

How long, indeed…

They had kept her from him! She had been right here in the medical bay the entire time! And yet, they had denied him access to see her, had dodged his questions and refused to ease his concerns. What were they trying to gain? Uttering a curse, he ran a frenzied hand through his hair and stalked forward to confront her about this revelation – along with the reason for the attack – but the sight that met him stopped him in his tracks. His expression immediately softened and he hesitated as he took in Teafa's vulnerable form now hunched over and sobbing uncontrollably.

In that instant, Aryan felt very small and extremely incompetent. He had been in enough failed relationships to know that he had never been good at offering heartwarming support. He found that he could argue against the greatest political minds the galaxy had to offer, but when it came to facing actual human emotions, he was at a complete loss. If he wasn't going to benefit from it in any way, he'd rather not deal with it at all. Even here, with Teafa, he found that he wanted nothing more than to simply run and to allow her to deal with her emotional duress on her own time.

But that's not how it played out. The simple sight of her in pain elicited something inside of him, something he was afraid to acknowledge, and he found that his feet continued to move forward of their own accord until he was towering over her broken form. For a long moment, he did nothing but simply stare, almost as if he was in some sort of trance. His mind began to drift, and before he realized what was happening, he was down on his knees beside her.

"Why?" he uttered softly, shaking his head. "You could've--" He trailed off, not bringing himself to say the word.

Somewhere, off in the distance of maybe ten feet, Teafa absently noticed that the secretary peaked up from behind her desk, another dozen feet or so several doors were cracked open with faces with varying degrees of concern and confusion looked at the room. She could feel the fear, the lack of understanding, the curiosity as to what could have caused this mess as it had been a long time since the Force had been on display in any manner of general consumption, not that she was particularly aware of that. Instead of some confident warrior god towering high above mere mortals they saw a broken young woman kneeling and sobbing, and an apparently suicidal older man coming over to kneel beside her. She was well aware of Aryan as well, but she couldn't actually focus well enough on him to let him know that. And then he spoke, starting to accuse her before breaking it off, and he seemed lost as well.

Lost. All lost.

What that actually meant was still crashing over her, and likely wouldn't really be something she would truly comprehend for months. And the consequences... well, being alone like that, the last member of her species, how does anyone deal with something like that? Where could she turn that anyone would understand? These were not particularly kindhearted people that she found herself around, and Aryan had driven that point home, perhaps unintentionally.

Alone.

Looking up at Aryan she all but screamed at him. "Sorry! Am sorry! Notice didn't you. Couldn't-" She choked on her lack of breathing for a moment before coughing. Lost. Just lost all. Control gone. "Didn't mean hurt. Don't know... turn where. Gone. Every all. Gone. GONE!" That none of the doctors came over to try to help with the obviously hysterical Miraluka said something for the state of the room, which she wasn't even remotely aware of anymore. It was all dead matter anyway. It was all she could do not to be crushed under the waves of emotion that crashed against her soul, and she had lost her mental shroud and was instead broadcasting her anguish to any nearby Force-sensitives. Alone. All alone. It echoed in her mind, and the absences that she felt in the Force, the voids where there should have been living people off in the distance did nothing but reinforce it.

Despite her words of apology, all Aryan could hear was a raving madwoman who persisted to shout into his ear as she clung to some illogical belief that the galaxy was doomed. While he had taken pity on her in their initial plight, had even become slightly obsessed – especially after she had inadvertently saved his life – it was now beginning to overwhelm him. This wasn't something he could easily fix through committee. How could he show compassion for someone when he had no idea how to properly help them? Perhaps he should have heeded his own advice to keep his distance.

Clenching his jaw, his expression hardened as he began to slowly rise, seemingly intent on leaving her to wilt at his feet. But before he had the opportunity to speak, something came over him and he suddenly lost focus. It was an intense wave of…of what, exactly? He felt sorrow…heartache…pain. In fact, the sensations were so powerful that it caused him to stumble backward as it took his breath away in an audible gasp. A hand instinctively clenched for his chest as he willed himself to breathe…to remain calm.

What--what was happening?

He took another steadying breath and closed his eyes in an attempt to regain control. As he did so, a single image formed in his mind – Teafa.

Teafa?

How did…?

His eyes snapped back open and he stared with disbelief at the young woman weeping upon the ground. He didn't know how he knew, but he was almost certain she was responsible. Whatever she had done, it was clear that she was beginning to affect him in ways that he simply didn't understand, making him vulnerable. She was like a toxin coursing mercilessly through is veins, slowly wreaking havoc on all of his bodily systems to the point of making him both physically and mentally ill. It would only be a matter of time before she consumed him completely.

He needed to escape.

Still under the influence of whatever was impressing itself upon his mind, he held out a trembling hand in an effort to placate her, but did not go the full distance to actually making physical contact. "I'm…going to get you help," he said carefully, trying to keep his features neutral. In the end, it was a useless effort – the sheen of perspiration that covered his face revealed much in regards to his current distress.

"But for right now, I-I need you to keep your distance, alright?" He shook his head and diverted his gaze as he continued to backpedal. "Just…s-stay there."

It was a small, slow thing, Aryan backing away from her, but as much as she was desperate for any form of comfort at that moment she noticed. Fear? Fear me? And just like that confusion planted itself firmly in the middle of the situation as well. No fear. Not hurt. No hurt again. Please no fear! Please... No am monster, no hurt. It wasn't a word that she would have ever associated with herself before. Monster. It had a tenor that she did not like, but was she one? Could she even tell anymore? She had lashed out for no reason, the waiting room looking like a tornado has blasted through it pretty well proving that. And now this. No one had ever feared her before, it had always been the other way around. Fear had been her companion, fear of being hurt again, fear of being abused, fear of not being in control of her situation.

Realizing that there was no help to be had, no matter what Aryan said he was going to do, she began to force herself under control, shutting the sorrow into a box, leaving only the pain and rage. She was too vulnerable, too much like prey. Without the outlet the pain became more overwhelming, and she bent double until her newly repaired face was pressed into the floor, and she screamed silently, expunging as much of it in that one moment as she could. No more prey. No more. Not that it was a pain that was really going to leave, the shattering of not only herself but her entire world, but at least she began to be able to control herself again.

Looking up at Aryan, her features eerily calmer, she noted how distraught he was as well, the stammering, the continued backpedaling. It hurt to have made someone else so afraid of her, when she knew somewhere deep down that all she had ever really wanted was to help people. No help. Nothing can, only release. Only Typho lesson. Free from pain only death. It was a fleeting thought at the moment, but it seemed right somehow. Maybe am monster. His expression said it all, the perspiration and sense of panic that was pouring off of the man. Monster. How can help if monster? No one want. Breathing deep, she shoved all of the pain and emotion into the hole where her heart should have been. Monster better than prey. She determined to actually deal with everything later, but she now knew that she was truly alone here and that she would have to find her own purpose in this new world, though what that was going to be she had no clue as of yet.

Rising shakily to her feet, she finally responded to Aryan saying he was going to go find help by shaking her head. "No help. No can. Last of miraluka, unhelpable." As she actually said it, the pain came back, screwing up her face into what could have been anguish or very easily mistaken for a snarl, which it transformed into as she slammed her presence back into the void and sent every ounce of emotion that she had with it. It wouldn't last, didn't even want it to as part of her knew this had to be dealt with. But this was not the place, and Aryan most certainly would not be present to see her pain again. No one would. And so she carefully forced her features into neutrality again.

One of the doors opened again, and Doctor Gray came out cautiously, looking around at the mess that was the room. It seemed like he whispered something to himself, though what it was she couldn't have said and didn't really care. She could feel a bit of fear coming off of him as well. The receptionist was a terrified knot of anxiety still hiding behind her desk. And the other doctor whom she didn't know had retreated again. Doctor Gray opened his mouth and said a little hesitantly, "I am afraid that I must interject. There is a transmission due for you both and Lord Titus. He is about to be removed from his tank."

Teafa turned and stared at him for a moment. After a moment she simply said, "Where?" She completely ignored the rest of the room, there was nothing she could do about what had happened, and she had done enough damage as it was. After Doctor Gray motioned for them to follow, she moved in the indicated direction. Why anyone would want to talk to her she didn't really know, but having something to do, anything really, would at least give her a way of taking her mind off of everything.

TAG: Sinrebirth, Darth Master Titus, Lady Belligerent, Darth_wanderguard

 

IC: Darth Cocytus

Darth Cocytus sat in full meditation on the floor in his chambers. He sat in preparation for the coming mission with legs crossed, hands folded and eyes closed. The kaminoan focused on his never ending anger and hatred and endless passions to hone his connection to the dark side of the force in which he bathes. "I'm one with the Dark Side and the Dark Side is with me." he spoke softly to himself in repetition, focusing on memories of his past mistakes, as well as encounters with various foes both without and within the Sith Order to fuel hus anger and hatred , "I am one with the Dark Side and the Dark Side is with me."

Cocytus's eyes snapped open, breaking meditation, as he heard his Master, Lady Hesper's announcement to meet her at the shuttle. The Sith Priest got up onto his feet and began walking to the hanger and towards the shuttle in a very pius manner, with head low, and hands together once more in semi-meditation as he continued to focus and grow his anger and hatred and thus his power, as well as teachings of the ancient Sith Lords like Sidious and Naga Shadow he learned in the archives. "I am one with the Dark Side and the Dark Side is with me."

When Darth Cocytus arrived at the shuttle, the kaminoan kept himself in his semi-meditation and waited. Eventually, Cocytus broke out of his meditation when Darth Leda and... Darth Ravenous? arrived to join him in waiting for Darth Hesper. Hmph. Looks like Ravenous subjected himself to some Sith Alchemy. thought the kaminoan coldly, his bitter glare of Sith-Yellow eyes narrowing upon the wookie, Soon I might have the ability to preform such lovely experiments on others, controlling and reshaping them, but rarely ever on myself

Darth Cocytus growled a little before looking away and returned to semi-meditation as he waited for his master and the Dawn Herald. "I am one with the dark side and the dark side is with me..."

Tag: corinthia, QueenSabe7, Lady Belligerent and WookieeRage

 

OOC: I'm a little late sorry but here's my first post as Foedus

IC: Darth Foedus
Dining Hall, New Moraband

'BORING! BORING! BORING! BORING! BORING! BORING!' is what Foedus wanted to yell at Darth Insipid. Of course he had the sense to be respectful -or else he might die. Foedus knew that what the God-Emperor was saying was probably important but Foedus was impatient and couldn't be bothered listening, instead he fiddled with his lightsaber (under the table so no one could see.) Foedus noticed a scratch that wasn't always there. It was quite deep and felt as if something jagged had cut it. It was like a small canyon running through the durasteel hilt. Foedus was trying to figure out where the scratch from when suddenly the Night Herald's voice boomed across the room. Foedus tried listening to Haretisch but he once again got distracted, this time by a girl.

The girl seemed familiar. Like Foedus had met her before. Lady Kwea Acantha? Could she really be real. Of course! Even once the Sith had arrived in this time he had just told himself that Kwea was a figure of his imagination, just a dream, but now it was blatantly obvious that she did exist. Darth Foedus could hear her voice inside his head "There are thousands of Sith still alive. We are taking back what is ours, taming civilizations, and growing in number."

Once the Night Herald finished talking Foedus was very tempted to call out to her, but of course someone else started talking. This time it was a female, Lady Bellorum -the Dawn Herald. This time Foedus did listen. She spoke of archives and information and even mentioned Foedus' name (he felt special for once.) Foedus also found out that he would partake in a mission, one to gather information. Excellent. That's all Foedus ever did, hunt, learn, kill, repeat. It would (hopefully) be an easy job. Foedus was having quite a good day after all.

And to put the cherry on top just before the whole thing was adjourned two loud mouthed apprentices were killed. There blood flung across the room some even splattering Foedus' mask. Foedus leaned back on his chair and whispered something under his breath (something that came out louder than intended thanks to his marsks speaker.) "I think I'm gonna like it here."

Tags: @Lady Belligerent, @Mikaboshi, Halle Dray, @Nehru_Amidala, @corinthia

 

Combo with Mr. Wanderguard and Togrutan_Jedi

IC: Darth Haretisch, Darth Syren & Darth Effay
Citadel, New Moraband

Syren sat up straight, dark eyes staring ahead but unfocused. She was listening intently to her Emperor-turned-God remark on the state of the Empire and what they must now do to thrive anew. The mighty Sith she had sought out for so long, now beaten down and displaced. And not just in location but time.

“… a historic remnant of the Eternal War,” she heard Insipid say and stiffened ever so slightly. Even this far away from her former life there were small signs of the past all around. While her memories were still piecing themselves back together, there were names and references from her original time that she couldn’t wholly remember but knew she should. A possible side effect of stasis? Could be, but the right word or phrase would still trigger some sort of a response. She supposed it should no longer matter too much to her at this point.

The apprentice… no, the High Lord was yet again adjusting to a new era and foreign landscape. Only a few weeks prior she had been locked away in a forced sleep, never changing over 4 millennia. And here in the year 5 ABY, Syren was made High Lord of the Sith. Beneath no one save the Triumvirate, she now bowed only to a few while the many would bow to her. It made her feel strange and uneasy.

Turning her gaze to her side, there sat a very young Togrutan female that went by the name Effay. She was nervous. She had been shy ever since her acceptance into the citadel. Effay had no plans or goals for herself but to complete her orders and move along without drawing attention to herself. Living among the Sith was indeed better than living day-to-day roaming around for food or a safe place to stay the night, all by her lonesome. She felt a new path for herself within the Sith Empire.

Knowing that the girl was brought to the Citadel after spending some time on her own, Syren knew little else and was not sure she wanted to. This being at her side was her Apprentice, another “gift” bestowed upon Syren since their relocation to New Moraband. Looking at the other openly, she felt a seed of doubt plant itself in her mind and not for the first time. Was she truly ready for all this responsibility? Were her Lords seeing if she’d crack under the pressure like a deranged fossil? She had been given her own star destroyer, for Sith’s sake! It was absurd when she thought about it. And thought about it she had.

Effay sat up straight and paid attention to master Syren, waiting for her to do or say anything important, and not noticing Haretisch in front of them.

As for Syren, a sudden burst of laughter broke through her calm. She threw a hand up to clamp down over her mouth just as she felt a familiar presence.

"I would speak to you in my chambers. Bring your apprentice," Haretisch said directly to her as Syren faced him.

She dropped her hand and instinctively reached for the vibroblade strapped to her thigh. Catching herself as soon as her fingers brushed the hilt, he had already turned to address the others once again and then was gone. Letting out a breath she had been unaware she was holding, her attention refocused on Effay. The apprentice kept looking to Syren, waiting for her to motion Effay to follow her. Instead, she leaned in and spoke softly so only the young girl would hear.

“My first piece of advice to you, Apprentice, and heed it well," Effay leaned in and looked forward, carefully listening. "Be careful who you trust here. Everyone has their own agenda and would readily sacrifice others that get in their way.” Syren pushed back her chair and stood, quickly surveying their surroundings. “Come,” she demanded and turned to leave.

Since the Citadel had been claimed by the Sith, Syren had spent a fair amount of time exploring every corner and corridor of her new home. By now she could confidently navigate her way around and easily led Effay to the northeast lift. As they began their climb in silence she felt the weight of her newly acquired short sword shift against her back; some of her excursions around the fortress had been more rewarding than others.

Reaching their intended floor, she stepped off and moved the short distance to their destination while a reoccurring thought suddenly crept back into her mind. Knowing full well how little and practically nonexistent her trust was in him, she had originally found it odd that Haretisch had been the one to push for her ascension to High Lord. It was to make a point she had realized; another pawn in another game she didn’t understand. However, the past weeks had given her ample time to think on what this would mean for her. Coming to halt in front of the door, Syren silently vowed to be a key player this go-around and now she was in the perfect position to do so.

Peering over at her apprentice, she raised a hand and knocked twice. “We will need to speak after this meeting is through,” she said and then returned her eyes forward to wait for admittance.

Inside, Darth Haretisch flicked his eyes to the door and bid it to open. He stood at the far end of the room, donned of one epaulet while the other lay on the workbench in front of him. His hands were occupied and gloveless, bluing fingertips grasping and tugging at the black fabric exposed by his missing shoulder guard. "Step inside," he said briskly as he continued to adjust it, irked by the way the stretchy bodysuit lay against his clavicle.

The room was simply furnished and warmly decorated - floors and walls of deep-toned wood, with a desk near one wall, a mini-bar on another, and the aforementioned workbench on another. Nothing extravagant or garish. The door would close behind Syren and her apprentice as they came in, and the Night Herald turned his attention to adjusting a strap.

Effay entered the room and looked around, then turned her eyes to the Night Herald, standing comfortably behind Syren and clenching her hands together.

"I guess I should offer you a drink," he said, gesturing to the mini-bar. "Not you, though," he said to Effay, silently making note of her age. An instant later, he mentally slapped himself for forgetting the girl had been surviving alone in Sanctorium, and not least that he was about to send her on a mission that would qualify as child endangerment by any responsible measure. He was letting these paternal impulses get out of hand and he needed to be less obvious about it - otherwise they might all figure out how much fatherhood had defanged the Night Herald.

Effay smirked. She had been used to going to bars with her old master back on Naboo and watching him get drunk as ever, and knew better than to indulge herself. She stood still with her hands still clenched.

Syren resisted the urge to raise a brow at Haretisch’s words towards her apprentice. Pushing that aside, she instead responded to his offer with a slight bow. “Thank you, my Lord,” she said a bit too eagerly. She hadn’t had nearly enough wine during the ceremony, but seeing as where she had ended up perhaps that was a good thing.

Standing just ahead of Effay, she remained still with hands clasped in front of her. She would appear calm and collected to the others but internally she was a mix of uncertainty and intense curiosity. Knowing full well that her emotions would be felt, she stepped further into the room and allowed her impatience to win out.

“What is it you require of me,” she paused, glancing to the young Togrutan at her back. “Of us?”

Effay paused. She wasn't used to others caring for her needs. "A home, and a purpose. I want to serve" she said, and sounded confident.

"No time to waste then, I suppose," Haretisch replied. As he spoke, he replaced the epaulet and set to doing up the strap, fidgeting about his shoulders. "Secrecy is of the utmost importance. You heard Insipid's instruction - no excursions into known space - but I'm about to have you do just that. I'm unsure how much time you were ever able to devote to these same years of our original timeline, but this one is quite different. The greater part of the Empire took years to fall in the reality we left. Not so, here. And in the months afterward, from what little I've been able to gather, it appears that something of interest to us may have taken place."

He said the next words carefully. "Acolytes of the Beyond. They seem to have been... disciples of Darth Vader, to some degree or other. A junk dealer claimed to have sold them a weapon they believed to be Vader's lightsaber, on Taris. Then there was an attack in Coronet City, Corellia; a massacre at a police station. There were other incidents. It seems to speak, perhaps, to some continuing legacy of the Sith in this timeline. There are rumors that Vader maintained a devoted dark side cult of sorts on Mustafar. The possibility that these cultists were trained in the force, that they and the Acolytes of the Beyond were perhaps connected, or even one and the same, is too intriguing to let alone."

Syren listened carefully as the Night Herald spoke. So, her first mission as a High Lord would be to disobey the Emperor's one direct order. Typical, she thought. She supposed part of her should be honored to be given such a task as it would have to be executed with highest level of discretion. But she couldn’t help feeling a bit more anxious than usual and being reminded of new timelines and realities did not help. While all her fellow Sith were new to this era as well, to a degree, she was still the farthest removed. Most of what she was hearing was foreign and unknown and it drove her mad more than ever that such a thing still bothered her. This was her personal reality now and would always be. She shouldn’t allow it to affect her so but that was easier said than done in times like these…

Clenching her jaw in frustration, she mulled over what she had been told to get to the heart of the present matter. Darth Vader. She knew that name, not intimately but she knew of the Skywalker legacy and the weight it carried. If Vader had devoted followers in life, it stood to reason that they would have carried on after his demise. The Dark Lord before her suggested as much and possibly more. Chewing her lip in thought, Syren contemplated exactly what she and Effay were being sent off world to do.

“Do these Acolytes and cultists call themselves Sith?” she asked with mild disdain. “And how are they to be dealt with?”

"Dealt with? No," Haretisch dismissed. "The Acolytes are far too potentially useful for any of that," he said, knowing Syren's mind must have gone immediately to violence. "As of yet I've failed to trace any living members of the cult. And I can't very well leave Zakuul - that would attract far too much attention. This needs to be discrete. That I can't stress enough. The Sith are in a war with ourselves," his expression darkened. "And I intend to have every weapon possible on my own side. As always I submit myself to your loyalty; nothing stops you from throwing me over."

Stepping towards the pair, the Night Herald reached into a pocket on his belt, and retrieved a data chip to be inserted into a holoprojector. "There is one lead. A junk dealer, an associate of the one who sold Vader's lightsaber to the Acolytes. Find out what he knows. Follow the trail that presents itself. There may be something, or there may be nothing, but the force will guide you all the same," he presented the data chip. "Take it. Do not view its contents until you are safely offworld. Out of system, even. And do *not* return here in the same ship you take. There are eyes and ears upon everything in the hangar, when it leaves and when it returns."

Silently, he nodded to the door.

Syren accepted the data chip from Haretisch and turned it over in her hands. This was no light assignment but one she would not fail.

Looking back to the Night Herald as he clearly dismissed them, she bowed. "I will not disappoint, my Lord," she declared then turned to leave giving Effay a look that implied she follow. Moving out into the corridor, Syren walked until she was at a comfortable distance. Drawing to a halt, she sighed and faced her apprentice.

"I would hope you were paying attention in there so I won't have to emphasize the high level of subterfuge we will be undertaking shortly," she began, keeping her voice firm and even though she felt quite the opposite.

Effay walked out of Haretisch's chamber with master Syren. "Of course. It's all up here", said Effay pointing to her head.

"I told you before about ulterior motives? Well, this is the best example of that Effay and though it puts us in a precarious position it also provides opportunity." Syren held up the data chip between them. "Remember this: knowledge is power."

She briefly studied her companion, noting how truly young the girl looked. "Go and prepare yourself for what is to come and I will contact you when it is time to leave. Do you understand?" The High Lord had a feeling that her apprentice would be growing up incredibly fast and soon.

Syren then commanded Effay to prepare herself for the mission. When in her quarters, Effay meditated with her lightsaber crystals. She believed to bond with one's crystals gave as much of an edge during battle as training to use the weapon. The crystals held memories of her times serving as an Inquisitor under the Empire, and reminded her that no matter what side she was on, she fought for peace. When she felt it was time, Effay put the crystals back in the hilts and exited her quarters to find Master Syren and begin the mission.


TAGS: Darth_wanderguard Togrutan_Jedi

 

GM UPDATE



IC: Lord Gan -- Fortress, Boneyard, New Moraband

The soft patter of footsteps had been growing gradually more perceptible for some time when the door finally opened. Hastily a man in blue satin robes rushed in, and closed the door behind himself before turning his eyes to the captives. With desperation evident in every feature, he stepped up to the bars of the cell and spoke.

"Is-is it true? Are you what they say you are? Are you Sith?" A faint glimmer of hope could be heard in the man's voice, like a prayer had been answered. "If so, I think maybe you can help me. And I know I can help you. But there isn't much time! The guard will be back soon."

Cautiously he stepped back from the bars, having gathered his wits and realized how dangerous the captives could be. "My name is Gan. I am the Lord of this city, by divine right of my descent from the God-Emperor Vitiate himself," he thumped his chest in an attempt to mask the lack of conviction which he knew would plague his words. "For centuries my line has served faithfully. Long have we been champions of the people, and long have they loved us as magnanimous rulers, even through the scourge of famine and poverty. Then The Regulators came. They offered to help me, said they could enforce law and order, could protect the weak and the defenseless, and feed the poor. So I let them. I gave them a place in the fortress, my seal of approval, named them before the people as doers of my will. But I found out... found out what they were doing. They've been harvesting the poor, and the sick. They're processing them... making them into-into food. I was going to expose them, withdraw my support but... they have my son! Jason... he's here, in the dungeon, under heavy guard. They'll kill him if I step out of line. I would have only to say the word, and the people would rise up against them, and they know it. That's why they'll kill Jason if I don't go along. I thought it was hopeless. I thought I would never see him again. But then you came. You're Sith. You're powerful. Help me, save Jason. Fight The Regulators, and I can free you. I stole a key to your cell, and to your force restraints. Help me!"

TAG: Draconis, Lady Belligerent

~

IC: Darth Kralkus -- Arena, Citadel, Sanctorium

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Darth Kralkus' walking stick, which doubled as his saberstaff, clanged methodically against the durasteel floor as the old master made his way through the main corridor with novices in tow and stormtroopers behind. In short order the arena lay before them, and at the end of the corridor the path split into two. To the left, an ascending staircase led to the seating area, which stretched out in an encompassing circle about the whole of the marble floored pit below. On the right, another staircase descended into a dark corridor which lay beneath the stands. Straight ahead, a safety rail spanned the length of the gap in the walls which climbed above to meet the floors of the stands - offering a limited view into the action which would take place in the pit.

"Hrm!" Kralkus grunted, and began to climb the left stairway. Then he flicked out a clawed finger behind, lazily signaling to the Stormtroopers at the rear of the pack. In a mere moment, Xel, Pshycho, and Xauder would each feel a blaster rifle poked roughly into their backs.

"Alright, let's go. And don't think of trying anything. Just cooperate, or that little monster will have your heads for sure," one electronic voice said from behind a helmet as the trio were prodded along to the staircase on the right, down the steps and into the dark passage beyond. For several meters they would be pushed along blindly, until the light from an open doorway would become visible around the circular corner, and at last they came to a doorway on the left out of which the lot of them were shoved roughly into the brightness, and the door slammed closed behind them.

They were in the pit. The stands loomed high above and around in every direction, and Kralkus sat, perched at a high seat to the North. For every few meters of unforgiving marble, the floor was broken by a narrow durasteel vent which spanned the length of the pit. Presumably flames might belch from any of the vents at the behest of... someone. Hopefully no one with a cruel sense of humor. In the very center of the pit sat a pair of trap doors, with god knows what waiting beneath.

"Xel Saxon, Xauder Dhoj... Phsyco," Kralkus broke the silence, "tested, you will be. Broken will you become, if weak you are. But weapons will I make of you... if worthy you are. Fear, do you feel? Hm? Tell me, you must. What do you fear?"

TAG: Captain Owen, Jax Nova, SkooterDawg

~

IC: Darth Haretisch -- Citadel, Sanctorium, New Moraband

The hangar was bustling as the Night Herald made his way. Troop transports were being loaded, protocol droids craned into fighters, equipment being checked and munitions distributed. On board Darth Haretisch's personal shuttle, the team had assembled for briefing.

"The fortress is actually little more than a repurposed prison complex," he began, a detailed readout of the facility rotating in pale blue centermost in the cabin. "A central structure is separated from high exterior walls by a courtyard, with turrets mounted along the perimeter of the fortification, an artillery tower at each corner, and a sturdy main gate on the south side. The city streets are far too narrow to approach the walls with traditional siege equipment, and crushing a path would take too much time - our siege engines would simply never survive. Bombarding the turrets of artillery towers isn't feasible either; a huge number of Regulators will mobilize throughout the city and converge on the fortress in a matter of hours. Far more than we could possibly handle without every fortification intact."

With a click, the image switched to show a town square of sorts; a clearing beset on all sides by decrepit multi-story structures. "There is, however, one possible route of attack. A plaza, west of the fortress, is large enough to land multiple transports and shuttlecraft. Building cover will be sufficient to shield the approach of a small ground force up to the foot of the southwest tower. I will lead this assault myself with High Lord Cruor and Apprentice Alva. Provided the right equipment, it should be relatively easy to scale the walls and take them inch by inch. From there, the forces inside the building itself will be on borrowed time. There is one caveat, however. The plaza is well inside the range of the wall's defenses. Slow transport ships would be torn to pieces before they ever got close to landing. This is where you two come in," Haretisch nodded to Kwea, and to her apprentice Invadator. "Modern fighter craft are more than capable of evading the antiquated targeting systems we'll be up against - TIEs especially. This is to our advantage. You'll need to conduct a flyover of the northwest and southwest towers, just before the main fleet comes into range, to draw fire away from the transports. You'll have to fire on the defenses to really grab their attention, but be absolutely sure to miss. Alva will also be manning a fighter and functioning as an escort. Once the transports have landed, he may need to provide air cover to ensure we aren't overwhelmed from behind."

He paused. "Cruor, you are to remain with me. Alva, Kwea, Invadator, get to your ships. We depart in five minutes."

TAG: Mikaboshi, Halle Dray, Anakin.Skywalker, Isley_27

 

IC: Osnil

A mud-covered, soaked Gungan rode quickly into the stables on his loyal kaadu, who was similarly dirtied. It was good to be back in a swamp, even if the others didn't think so. Osnil had spent the morning scouring the swamps for creatures that only swamps held: the delicious kind.

He had almost lost track of time, but he'd remembered in barely enough time to get ready for the mission. He dismounted and called a stableboy over, "Mesa need yousa to clean Dupy in tenska minutes, okeeday? Den mesa gonna come get him. Pack hesa plenty of food." The stableboy nodded, and took the reins from Osnil before leading Dupy to the hose.

He hurried to his quarters and in record time, showered off all the slime and muck covering him. He slid into his black mission robes and clipped his lightsaber to his side. He strapped his energy shield to his back, collected Dupy, and headed to the hangars.

He followed a couple of others, a Kaminoan and a human to the shuttle where Lady Zalen was barking orders at a tech. He also saw a Wookiee with several appendages that also attended the mission. Zalen then ordered everyone to get the data card required and get aboard for debriefing. Osnil obeyed and entered, still holding Dupy's reigns and awaited further instruction.
TAG: Lady Belligerent WookieeRage QueenSabe7 Darth Cocytus

 

IC: Darth Alva
Hanger/New Moraband

Alva noticed carefully as his master mapped out and explained the defensive structure of the targeted building. Changing the image of the holocron over to a plaza in which the team had planned to land in. From what Alva had gathered air support would be needed once everyone was within range of the landing plaza, shooting down possible enemy fighters and distracting anti-aircraft turrets until back up had arrived or if it was clear for him to land. It was a mission that would definitely test his flying capabilities, but Alva would not be taking down in such a crude manner.

"We depart in five minutes." said the Night Herald, concluding the briefing.

"I'll see you guys at the bottom..May the Dark Side guide you all." Alva bowed to his master and to his fellow Sith.

He made his way back to his fighter and gave one more final inspection. Once done Alva climbed up the opened hatch, maneuvering his way to the cockpit. He sat down yet did not touch any of the controls. He closed his eyes, gently folded his arms and began to meditate. Focusing on the angry, fear, and hatred in his heart until his thoughts and reflexes were precise enough to heighten all his senses, as he would need to be as sharp as possible.

Alva could feel the force coursing through his body as he opened his eyes and fastened himself to the seat, placing his hands on the left and right flight joysticks. Hitting the ignition switch, the electrical power turned on the all the guidance systems and the engine. He placed a wireless comm-link in his right ear "This is Darth Alva of the SR1 requesting permission for take off.. I am clear to proceed?"

There was momentary radio silence from the control tower, until "....Roger that SR1 you are clear for take off"

Alva switch communication channels "Master, Kwea, Invadator, Cruor, am I coming in clear?" he would asked the team to test comm-links. Alva reached for his targeting system, adjusting different knobs until they clicked in place. Pressing buttons in sequence with each 'beep' and 'buzz'.

Alva's fighter began to hover in place with the landing props retracting into their original positions. He tilted both the joysticks slightly and angled his ship towards the hanger exit.

The fighter gave off a low hum as it drifted out the exit.

Once Alva had cleared the hanger he accelerated forward and gained altitude, the low hum of the fighter grew louder until it now gave off the signature TIE fighter roar.

Tag Darth_wanderguard Mikaboshi Halle Dray Anakin.Skywalker

 

Sub-GM Update

IC: Lady Hesper
Shuttle, en route to the Obelisk

Zalen had thoroughly scanned the shuttle as Hesper paced the length of the passenger hold, datapad in hand, inspecting the profiles of her team as she decided on what to assign to whom; once Zalen had finished, she took the datacards that had been prepared with schematics of the Obelisk, and waited at the foot of the loading ramp for the team members to arrive. While Zalen waited, Hesper took position at the rear of the shuttle, facing the loading ramp, and clasped her hands behind her back, standing as regally tall as her small stature would allow. Mentally, Hesper was preparing herself and running through the plan for the tenth time—she was also feeling about in the Force, inspecting her tesseracting grasp on the future. She tried to see if they would be successful in their mission aboard the Obelisk, but the sight with which she looked upon the continuum was clouded and blurry, meaning the future was not yet certain… Her blind eye began to ache as she strained to divine a clearer picture of the future.

Hesper withdrew herself from the Force as the first of her team arrived; it was Ravenous, who appeared even more fearsome than ever, with a newly mutated body. Hesper could tell right away he had become Sith Spawn—No doubt that’s the Lorekeeper’s work, she thought with admiration and a half-smirk. Hesper’s Kaminoan apprentice Cocytus, and the new human recruit, Leda, were next to arrive. The Gungan called Osnil came next, kaadu in tow. Hesper’s brows raised, and she regarded the Gungan and his steed with a certain degree of wariness. It had been a long time since she’d seen a Gungan, having shared a homeplanet with the species. Hesper had received word from Bellorum earlier that Osnil would be joining their team.

Shortly after Osnil was aboard, Zalen came up the ramp and closed the airlocks—they were clear for takeoff. Hesper waited for the shuttle to cease rumbling beneath their feet as it took off, and waited for the gentle near-stillness of open space before she spoke.

“Greetings,” Hesper said to the small crowd, her voice soft and low. “For those who may not know me, I am Darth Hesper, High Lady of the Sith—Lady Hesper is my preferred designation.” She squared her shoulders. “This mission must still be a mystery to all of you, but our directive is a simple yet extremely important one. Our Lady Bellorum has cause to believe there are dissidents and spies within the ranks that Thrawn has so graciously—“ she stressed the word with sarcasm, “provided for us. Not to mention the possibility of the Star Destroyer being bugged. Our job is to go in and suss out anyone and anything that might be spying.” Hesper stared down the team with her one good eye.

“Zalen will be my second-in-command for this mission; follow any directions and orders she may give,” Hesper said, and nodded in Zalen’s direction. “Ravenous,” she then addressed the Wookiee-spawn with a vague half-smile, "You, Osnil, and Zalen will be assigned to investigate the enlisted crew and the troopers. And… please do try to eat only the ones who are spies, Ravenous. We’d like to have some semblance of a crew left once we’re finished.” Hesper chuckled before continuing. “Zalen will be the leader for Osnil and Ravenous. I hope you three will also be successful in striking terror into the hearts of the ship's second-rate crew.”

Hesper unclasped her hands from behind her back, and folded her arms across her chest before she addressed the next team member. “Cocytus, my apprentice, will be joining me to interrogate the officers. It’s nigh time he and I had a hands-on lesson together.” Hesper then began to make her way from the rear of the shuttle towards the cockpit, shouldering her way between the other Sith. “Once we arrive aboard the Obelisk,” she continued, “we will all report to the bridge to address the crew. Then you will be dismissed to begin your assignments. And before I forget: the datacards Zalen distributed as you boarded contain schematics for the Obelisk, as well as crew rosters. I believe you’ll find the information quite useful.” Hesper turned to enter the cockpit, but said over her shoulder: “Oh, and Leda? I’d like to have a word with you in the cockpit.”

As soon as she set foot in the cockpit, Hesper hissed in the ears of the pilot and co-pilot that they would face death were they to speak of what was about to be said, her petite hands gripping one shoulder of each man in a painful vise-grip. The co-pilot whimpered in pain as she let go and settled into the seat behind the pilot’s chair. The Obelisk loomed ever closer in the cockpit’s viewport, and Hesper watched it contemplatively for a moment, brow furrowed.

Leda joined her shortly, and Hesper looked at the girl with her sharp half-gaze.

“I read your file before you arrived,” Hesper began quietly, elegantly crossing her legs. “And I have a special assignment just for you, Leda. Lady Bellorum has asked us to infiltrate the other Triumvirs’ ships and hack their systems to gain access to all their communications and operations, and it appears you would have the skills to complete that part of the mission with great success.” Hesper pulled the datapad Bellorum had given her from within a sleeve, as well as a small commlink device. “This datapad holds information and codes that will be helpful for slicing into the communications arrays aboard the Triumvirs’ ships; and this commlink is highly encrypted. Use it to communicate with me should you need direction, or should something go awry.”

She placed the things into Leda’s hands, then stood and took Leda's shoulders in her hands, locking eyes with the young woman. “I know you are new to our ranks, but I am placing my trust in your skills. This is a highly sensitive and highly classified mission, and is in no shortage of treachery. I need your loyalty and your word. Can I trust you’ll succeed, Leda?”


TAG: Lady Belligerent, QueenSabe7, WookieeRage, Darth Cocytus, Darth Osnil

 

IC: Darth Thunderous

Thunderous didn't trust Lenora, but he trusted Grand Moff Ike even less. He sensed that Lenora didn't want him to speak, lest he arouse the Grand Moff's ire. While the Moff wasn't a Sith, even non-Force users could be useful to the dark side, and it wouldn't be wise to arouse his master's wrath, at least not at this point.

"You do realize it's a trap," Thunderous said as he and Lenora made their way to the shuttle.

"Of course," Lenora said coolly. "The only question is who is it a trap for? Us or High Scion Heskal."

Thunderous grimaced, then grinned. "Knowing the Sith as I do, probably both."

"I concur. One thing is for certain: we don't trust each other."

"Apparently not," Thunderous replied dryly. "But I trust you more than Ike."

She laughed. "That's not saying a whole lot."

"True, but I'll take any advantage I can get, no matter how slight." He could sense the impatience radiating off the others. Well, the Jedi appeared calm, and the stormtroopers remained at attention. "I think we had better get going, don't you?"

Tag: Sinrebirth

 

Darth Hades
Lorekeepers Library, Citadel, Sanctorium, New Moraband

Hades studied at the map. It showed a large road that led to the temple, but judging by the age of the map, the path was surely overgrown by now.​

​

Have we sent any scouts out to the temple? and will Foedus and I be going alone, or shall we take others with us? A small team of four would work excellent in this situation.​

​

Hades suspected that the haunted part of the legend was probably based on some fact. Maybe not by spirits or undead, but there were probably a lot of dangers and creatures unknown in the depths. Cults tended to want their secrets kept and the best way was with guardians and traps.​

What exactly are we looking for in this temple?​

TAG: Lady Belligerent, Darth Rozic, Mikaboshi

​

 

IC: Darth Hekate
Sith Temple, New Moraband

Hekate began flipping through the pages, skimming through the information and every so often her brown eyes would look intently at the holo projector as though she were committing the map to memory. She remembered learning about the Zakuul temple and how it was haunted. Her old Nightsister master (or was it mistress?) said that the temple itself was not haunted, but the souls were really the hallucinations brought on by the psychotropic plants that permeated the place and the souls were really ghostling warriors. Mistress Zee-vah had traveled there herself and had taken samples as proof, in fact Hekate was in possession of them! She was also told of a tome of Sith lore known as the Necronomicon of Baal. It was purported to be larger than a dining room table and weighing in at several hundred pounds.

Raising her hand after sipping her hot chocolate (Hekate disliked caf with a vengeance because it tasted weird), she queried, "Lady Bellorum, I know that place. Well, rather I know about it. You see, my previous teacher, the Nightsister Zee-vah had traveled to Zakuul to see if she find the Necronomicon of Baal, a tome of Sith lore. She located it, but had to abandon it because of attacking Ghostling warriors. Also, the place is crawling (metaphorically, of course) with psychotropic plants whose pollen induces hallucinations, and the Ghostling warriors take full advantage of this fact. Here, these are mummified remains of the warriors she slew, and preserved blooms."

She reached into her rucksack, and produced the mummified remains of dead Ghostling warriors, and several psychedelic blooms safely encased in clear plastine. She smiled to herself, privately pleased that she had held onto them and that her skills would be of great use on the mission.


@corinthia @Mikaboshi @E. L.Knight @Darth Rozic Lady Belligerent @DarthIshyZ

 

IC: Osnil

As the Lady Hesper handed out missions, Osnil found himself on the task force interrogating the crew and the stormtroopers along with the Wookiee-thing she called Ravenous, and Zalen, the leader on their mission.

Special instructions were directed at Ravenous not to eat any of the crew, then she mentioned striking fear into the hearts of the crew. That struck a chord with Osnil. Didn't the Galactic Empire run on fear? That fear inspired a Rebellion, which became the undoing of the Empire.

He was about to make a suggestion, when Hesper took someone else to the cockpit. "Lady Zalen, can mesa maken a suggestion? Would itsa be more useful in da longa run if wesa inspired loyalty rather than inspiring fear?"
TAG: Lady Belligerent WookieeRage Darth Cocytus

 

IC: Alekto
New Moraband, Ceremony Hall

The past two weeks had been jarring, to say the least. Arriving in a brand-new time, on a completely foreign planet… so on, and so forth. Alekto was still trying to wrap her mind around it all. She found herself among a company of other new recruits, some from the time she had been yanked from, but the majority being from this new time. They were all self-assured and confident, wearing smug grins that belied a sense of privilege. Alekto felt no such entitlement, and felt as though she’d been taken down a notch from her usual brassy, cocksure swagger—she felt humbled by all that had changed.

Alekto was not used to change. Her life, until now, had remained relatively unchanged. So on this new planet, in this new city, she kept her head down and hands to herself as best she could. She knew well how to go unnoticed.

So far, she was doing a fine job remaining unremarkable. Everyone had gathered in the Citadel’s ceremony hall, and she was seated with the other apprentices and recruits at a table in the back of the hall. Alekto leaned back in her chair, left arm draped over its back, and picked at the plate of food before her with disinterest. There was a hologram of a man she didn’t recognize at the very head of the room, delivering a speech. Another apprentice had whispered into her ear that the man was called Insipid, and that he was the God-Emperor of the Sith—so Alekto listened in with half an ear. He was expounding on the function of the Sith Order, and then a datapad near Alekto’s place lit up with a notification. Others around her looked at what had been received, but Alekto pointedly ignored the device, and stuck a bite of food in her cheek.

She listened to God-Emperor Insipid until he finished his speech, and all the Sith around her raised their goblets in a toast as the Emperor raised a fist and put it to his chest. Alekto, however, mimicked the Emperor, raising her own green fist and putting it to her breast. “To the Sith,” she echoed his final words as his hologram vanished.

After the Emperor, another man stepped up to speak—the man looked ragged and tired, and the air in the ceremony hall tensed with ire as he opened his mouth to speak. Alekto looked around at the dark expressions of those in the hall as the man went on to explain a mission for a select few, wondering why in the universe everyone had their knickers in knots.

But as he finished and exited the hall, another stood and addressed the room—and as she did so, two of the apprentices at Alekto’s table stood to leave, quite obviously drunk. One of them had been sitting directly to Alekto’s left, and she could smell the alcohol wafting off him as he stood.

“Halt!” The blue woman called out as they made to leave. She hissed a threat as she walked to the head of the main table, and without warning, she suddenly seized the two with the Force and hoisted them into the air by their throats to hang above the table, flailing and kicking. Alekto, caught entirely off guard, yelped and shoved back from the table, eyes glued to the two suspended in air.

“Oh, kark me,” Alekto swore under her breath as her heart thundered in her chest. Everything in the new blasted time they were in was just one weird turn after another.
The woman simply left the pair in the air as she continued to speak. “We have accomplished a great deal in our short time here, but there’s still a great deal to be done. I shall be meeting with the Lorekeeper soon to discuss the restocking of our collection and archives. These missions will require personnel suited to locating and retrieving artifacts, using whatever means are necessary.” She glanced around the crowd. “Hades, you Foedus, Serapis, Hekate, and Alekto will join us.”

Alekto’s pounding heart missed a few beats as her name left the woman’s lips. “M-me?” Alekto stammered, pointing to herself with a tattooed hand, and she could feel the eyes of all the other apprentices and recruits at the table lock onto her. So much for going unnoticed, she thought.

“I mean to proceed with these missions immediately, so be awaiting a message detailing the time and location to meet. Ravenous and Lorekeeper are currently occupied with a little project, but they should be done soon.” Alekto absently wondered who everyone the woman had mentioned was, and Alekto scanned the room as she continued speaking. “Cocytus and Leda will be joining Hesper. You’ll be receiving a message detailing when and where to meet in a few hours for the briefing. Ravenous will be joining once he’s uh… done.”

Alekto’s eyes were lingering on the High Lords seated near where the commanding blue woman was standing when suddenly there was a terrible ripping noise, and the bodies of the two apprentices thudded to the table with a shower of blood that splattered into Alekto’s food and flung a few large drops onto her cheek and neck. Peeved, Alekto wiped the blood off her cheek with the back of a hand, and returned to looking at the High Lords, who oozed class and power. “I will not tolerate insolent behavior… from anyone,” the blue woman said, then cracked a malicious smile. “High Lord Hesper, please join me in my chambers. Everyone is dismissed.”

And with that, the blue lady exited the hall, and the volume rose as soon as she had gone. Alekto was still looking to the head of the hall when one of the High Lords stood, perhaps the one called Hesper, and turned to leave the room.

Alekto shot up from her chair, eyes wide, and sucked in a breath to call out. The small woman with the long blonde hair who had just stood up—Hesper, was it?— Alekto had recognized immediately. Though Hesper was a foreign name for the familiar face, Alekto cupped her hands to her mouth and called out the name she did know: “Lasena!”

If Hesper had heard Alekto, she made no indication—or perhaps the conversation of the room had drowned out Alekto’s voice. And then, Alekto lost sight of the petite woman. She looked around, trying to find her again, but to no avail. Disappointed, Alekto plopped back down in her seat, and crossed her arms. Lasena—er, Hesper—had been one of the few people Alekto had called “friend” back home on Florrum. Lasena had come to Alekto when she was in hiding in the deserts, having stumbled upon Alekto’s encampment by pure luck. Though their time together was brief, Alekto had considered Lasena a true friend, and they had spent many nights gazing at the stars and discussing the intricacies of the galaxy; though truthfully, it was Lasena who spoke poetically about the rhythm of the Force and the sway it held over life events, whether they were events that were happy, frustrating, or ultimately heartbreaking. Alekto simply listened, and interjected her own ill-formulated complaints about the cruelty of the universe when Lasena trailed off in her philosophizing.

Alekto stuck a thumbnail between her teeth and nibbled, brows beetled and mind racing. Lasena could possibly be the last remnant of everything Alekto had known before the time jump.

- - -

Sith Temple Library, New Moraband

Alekto had managed to find her way to the place she would meet the rest of the team, a library, and by the time she arrived, she had decided she hated swamp planets, and probably for the tenth time since arriving on New Moraband. Everything was muggy and soggy. She took her place at the table, sweat dripping down her temple, and looked around at the unfamiliar faces. The blue woman from earlier was seated at the table; Alekto could tell she was in charge, and the apprentice she’d asked after the banquet had told her the woman was called the Dawn Herald, and was Darth Bellorum, former apprentice of the Emperor and a symbol of beauty and luxury. There was also a pale Zabrak male at the table, and a human male beside him; there was also an Ithorian, a human girl, and a wiry old man with a scent so distinctive Alekto could’ve sworn it made her nose hairs curl up and turn to ash.

Alekto swallowed nervously. She had already picked up that she was the only one at the table who was unapprenticed—she didn’t understand why they would want such a shiny recruit on a team with others who were already so accomplished.

The table had been cleared, and it was freshly littered with books and maps. A slave filled a cup near Alekto’s elbow with caf, and she gratefully took it as Lady Bellorum slid a map towards the Zabrak and human. “This shows the location where a temple was built to honor Izax.” Bellorum pointed. “There’s not much information on Izax the Ultimate Devourer, but my research shows that the area has been relatively untouched. The locals are afraid of the temple and claim it’s haunted.”

The Zabrak slid the map to the smelly old man, next, and Bellorum pushed a stack of books to Alekto, the Ithorian, and the human girl. “Study these,” Bellorum instructed, and Alekto’s face felt immediately flushed and hot, and her pulse thudded loudly in her ears. How did I wind up on the one mission that’s all about kriffing reading? Alekto wondered with dread. She had never learned to read. “Make notes of any other locations of notable ruins or places of interest. I am especially interested if a location has been labeled dangerous or haunted by the natives.” Bellorum switched on a holomap. “Questions or ideas?”

Alekto was only slightly mortified. The human girl sitting beside Alekto took one of the volumes and began to peruse it, skimming the pages and looking between the book and the holo, and Alekto watched her out of the corner of her eye with jealousy.

“Have we sent any scouts out to the temple?” The Zabrak asked. “And will Foedus and I be going alone, or shall we take others with us? A small team of four would work excellent in this situation.” He paused. “What exactly are we looking for in this temple?”

The girl interjected next, and pulled several things from her rucksack, looking ultimately pleased with herself. Alekto gulped anxiously, her face burning with a blush, and sipped her caf before leaning to whisper in the Ithorian’s ear. She hoped he would be tolerant of someone like herself. An illiterate. “Excuse me, sir, but would you mind uh,” Alekto rubbed her mouth, nervous, “reading some of these maps to me? You see, I um, I never learned to read.”

She bit her lip and propped her forearms on the table, her eyes glazing over as she looked at the maps before her. This mission would be nothing short of a challenge, and she hoped this planning stage would be over soon. Very soon.

TAG: Lady Belligerent, DarthIshyZ, E. L.Knight, Nehru_Amidala, Mikaboshi, Darth Rozic

 

IC: Darth Cocytus

Darth Cocytus continued his semi-meditation in the twilight of awareness and stasis. Brought back to full awareness, the kaminoan watched as other team members arrived including, to Cocytus's surprise, a gungan. The Sith Priest's eyes narrowed coldly upon the newcomer examining him with curiosity. Hmph. scoffed Cocytus internally, So that's Darth Osnil. Didn't know that he was coming. Well this will be a fascinating mission with him along. Just as fascinating as the gungans themselves.

Cocytus glanced back at Zalen when she began handing out data cards and nodded at the order to board the shuttle. Boarding the shuttle with his teammates, the kaminoan looked to see Lady Hesper on the ramp and he bowed his head to her in what little genuine respect for her. "Greetings Master." he spoke softly.

As the ship took off once all was aboard, Cocytus listened carefully to his Master's briefing on the mission. The kaminoan's eyes narrowed, sharing Hesper and the Dawn Herald's sentiment towards Thrawn's imperial ranks. When Lady Hesper said that he would be doing interrogation with her, Cocytus couldn't help but make a small, cold and deadly grin. About time I begin my training as an Inquisitor. the Sith Priest Apprentice thought with joyful sadistic glee, Time to get into the heads of these imperial fools and see how they truly think of their new Sith Lords.

Cocytus chuckled silently at the orders given to Ravenous not to eat any of the crew and watched as his master, Hesper took Leda to the cockpit. The kaminoan then blinked upon hearing the gungan's question and turned to him with the glaring cold flaring yellow eyes of the sith. Loyalty instead of fear? Coytus thought disgust, Fear is what makes us powerful over the weak, foolish gungan.

Cocytus then looked down in ponderation on Osnil's words further. Then again, fear fuels our power. he thought, Maybe fear also gives fuel to rebellions as well? But loyalty is anything but the sith way.

"What are you getting at, Darth Osnil?" Cocytus spoke in his soft cold voice as he crained his long neck to look at the gungan, "Are you suggesting that instead of inspiring fear into these imperial scum we should inspire a facade of loyalty and comradery to break any thoughts of rebellion and treachery?"

Tag: corinthia, QueenSabe7, Lady Belligerent, Darth Osnil and WookieeRage

 

IC: Reiss Invadator

Before anyone had the chance to answer her, Darth Haretisch ordered them to their ships. He outlined a plan -- a rather bold plan in Invadator's mind -- to attack the fortress from the skies. She would have preferred to sneak in, but it wasn't really her decision.

If only she owned a ship....

She couldn't fly with Kwea because they needed someone to fly over both towers.....hmmm.

That was fine. She would just take a ship.

Invadator rose from the table and walked toward the hangar, attempting to distance herself from her Master so Kwea maybe wouldn't find out what she was doing. She walked toward the nearest unoccupied ship that caught her eye -- a Tie Fighter, good. A slave was just disconnecting the fuel cable.

"You" she barked at him. The slave straightened and looked at her in fear. "Whose ship is this," she demanded.

The slave began to answer her, but she cut him off -- literally. "You know what, I could care less." And as Invadator finished the sentence, the drew her darksaber on the slave, and in one quick upward movement, he was dead.

Invadator pushed his body under some equipment and climbed into the TIE fighter. She connected to her companions' frequency. "Master, Kwea, Invadator, Cruor, am I coming in clear?" said Alva.

"Crystal clear, Alva" Invadator replied and the -- her -- TIE fighter roared to life.

"May the Dark Side be with us" she muttered under her breath.

TAGS: Mikaboshi, Halle Dray, Darth_wanderguard, Isley_27