Star Wars New Sith Trials II: Rise of the Hand

OOC: I've talked to HanSolo29, and know she has questions Aryan's going to be asking and got permission to reference it.

IC: Teafa Phaidraig/ Medbay/ The Citadel/ Sanctorium/ Zakuul (New Moraband)

Studiously ignoring the others that she was in the room with, particularly Aryan Graul and Dr. Gray, she waited silently for something to happen, face completely devoid of any emotion despite the turmoil that still seethed beneath the surface. Teafa found herself wishing that she had brought her face mask, but she hadn't been able to wear it since emerging from the bacta tank due to the series of surgeries, and so her face was completely naked to everyone around. Absently she wondered if the lack of eyes was bothering anyone, and then decided that it ultimately didn't matter. It wasn't her problem if it was.

After a moment the hologram showed up and Teafa felt her breath catch in her throat. No Ike. No. My fault not! She wasn't sure how Ike could blame her for Insipid dying, but he had promised to kill her should it happen and now he was there in front of her, though not physically. But she knew that didn't necessarily matter, if he wanted to use the Force all he needed was to be able to see her. Instantly she drew on the Force and put up a tutamanis shield about herself, knowing it likely wouldn't do any good should the man have murderous thoughts on his mind.

Almost immediately Ike addressed the three of them, Titus, who seemed to be a dark knot of annoyance at his current situation, herself and then Aryan in seeming order of import, though she would have thought Aryan to be of more significance than she was given what he had been. But in terms of the now it did make some sense. None of the three of them had had any impact on the current situation, so far as she was aware. And then two other holograms joined Ike, noticeably smaller than his life sized presence. She didn't recognize either of the two, and they weren't actually introduced so Teafa was left with no clue who either of them might be.

Ike began talking about a mission that he had for them, one that seemed rather on the difficult side if she was any judge given that everyone who had been sent on it had disappeared, and was presumed dead. Is his revenge? Kill on mission? It seemed like an odd way to get back at her, given that as far as she was aware sith preferred getting their hands dirty in that sort of thing. The Dawn Herald had certainly not shied away from that earlier. Still, she did find the brief history lesson to be of interest. Especially the idea of another Force tradition that was neither light nor dark, though it seemed improbable that she would be given much opportunity to understand it particularly well. It seemed to her as though they were being sent to squelch it? Force them to join? She wasn't entirely certain on that end of things.

Another moff would be leading them, Esmeralda or some such. It was a name that meant nothing to her. What she did find interesting was that there was apparently a Jedi going with them. Be mess. Trust none can. But that went without saying she supposed, they were sith after all.

They were told that they were to rendezvous in the hangar to meet the rest of their team, and then finally, finally they were given their actual target. What name is Heskal? Weird. It drove home the point that they were not in a familiar place yet again. Wrong! And then they were asked if there were any questions. Teafa supposed that there were things that she should ask, but she was being sent along mainly as "muscle" so they didn't seem particularly relevant to her. As she contemplated that state of affairs, she heard Aryan Graul speak and ask most of what she wanted to know. It was an odd place to be, she never would have thought of herself in terms of being an enforcer at all, that had always been more of Talwar's role when they went out. Alone! The thought of him sent a stab of pain through the hole that was her heart and she reflexively thought about something else. Anything else. She blurted out, "Leave when?" It was the most pertinent question of all, as it gave her an idea of how long she would have nothing else to focus on. She also needed to know if she had time to even find her room, assuming that she had one. At least she had her lightsabers and datapad with her, just encase there wasn't time, but she would very much like her cloak and eyemask.

TAG: Sinrebirth, HanSolo29, Darth Master Titus, anyone else privy to the conversation.

 

IC: Osnil

Osnil felt the cold, glaring, yellow eyes of the Kaminoan glaring at him after asking his question. It made Osnil specifically nervous, as the Kaminoan asked, "What are you getting at?" Osnil remained momentarily silent as long as the nerve-wracking gaze was upon him, when the Kaminoan asked another question. "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?"

"Dat's exactly what mesa have in mind. Wesa show them dat the Empire is not only a bombad enemy, but a good ally as well. Dat way, dey be less willen to betray us," replied Osnil, "De Empire ran on fear. Da fear it created came as a Rebellion. Mesa know dat fear is important, but mesa also know that it should not be used in bombad amounts."

corinthia QueenSabe7 Darth Cocytus Lady Belligerent WookieeRage

 

IC: Darth Kronos

Esmerelda had walked out of her shuttle, with four Stormtroopers to either side, an official and stern posture, and a tired expression. But, more curiously, to her side was someone he had never seen before. Another Force Sensitive, one of a tall stature, perhaps even taller than he, although it was too far to tell. He seemed to be close to her, and not in the way he and her were, but more in a literal way. As if he was there to protect her. Kronos gave him a puzzled look, but one that had a deeper layer of hatred within it, but it was up to grabs if he would even know about it. Whoever this person was, he gave Kronos a look of contemplation and... was that disgust?

What was this man's game?

Esme had halted every other person she had outranked, and began walking towards him. All traffic ahead of her subsided, as they realized she was a Moff most likely. It was jarring to see her with so much authority, considering the last time they met, she was just a medic with little to no authority over anyone. Seeing her with a squadron of Stormtroopers similar to his own, well, it was cute in a way. It brought warm feeling to his heart, feelings he never knew he had.

She flashed him a warm smile, he returned the favor, moving up to him and called him her... bodyguard? What? He only got more confused. But even that was before she reached upward to plant a kiss on him... before retreating back.

It would take a few more moments for realization to sink in.

Under the normal circumstances, he would have gotten even more confused, perhaps even offended if he were in a bad mood. But as he thought about it more, it only seemed more obvious that she was trying to hide their relationship from her Stormtroopers, and her accompaniment nearby. Which was understandable, after what they had went through. Best to keep it somewhat of a secret so it can't be used against you later on.

He decided to play along, and kept a blank expression.

She handed him a datapad, which held a new mission debrief. But that wasn't what caught his guard. What did, however, was the little message typed out directly above the mission details, which stated that she knew nothing about the Jedi, whom was called Jagall, and that he should suss him out to make her feel safer. After he finished reading the message, he looked upward, once at Esme, and then to Jagall, in both a puzzled and hateful look, the latter of which may or may not be noticed depending on how skilled he was.

Curiously, though, the message also stated that Ike was adding unknowns to the mission, the reason why eluded him. For efficiency sake, it didn't make sense. Why fill a team of people unlikely to trust each other? Especially with him and Jagall. Ike was fully aware about how he felt about her, and throwing him in the mix in what seemed like an escort now, was both puzzling and insulting.

This mission had disaster written all over it. He'd keep that in the back of his mind, however. He had other matters to attend to. But he would at least try to make Esme feel better about the unknowns, Jagall specifically - let her relax. He slightly bent over and whispered so that only she could hear. "Don't worry about Jagall. If he has something up his sleeve, it likely isn't malicious."

Esmerelda wanted him to suss Jagall out? Alright.

He'd just need to figure out what to say.

He was still beginning to completely come out of his shell.

TAG: Sinrebirth Darth_Elu

 

IC: Kwea Acantha

Haretisch left and Kwea mulled over the plan, standing with her arms folded and her eyes unfocused. The sound of roaring TIE engines filled the air and broke Kwea's thoughts. She looked up and saw Alva preparing for flight. "Damn Kwea, wake up," she thought.

Kwea ran to her X-Wing that's cockpit was open and ready. She disconnected fuel lines and hopped in. Jamming on the black and red helmet over her messy bun, Kwea began to flip switches and toggle buttons. She felt the adrenaline rush as her fighter came to life. The engines blaring and vibrating her very soul. Alva's voice came over the comm system, "Master, Kwea, Invadator, Cruor, am I coming in clear?"

"Copy that, Alva," she replied, flicking the comm button on the control panel.

Her apprentice's voice came in as well saying, "Crystal clear." Whipping her head around, Kwea saw that Invadator had found her way to a TIE-fighter of her own. Well, not really her own. She raised a brow wondering if she should say anything to her later but decided against it. No one would miss the TIE anyway. Kwea turned around and gave a final glance over the panel and then commed into the control tower.

"This is Darth Kwea requesting permission for takeoff," she said, sounding much more excited than she had meant to.

"Darth Kwea, permission granted," came a bored reply. She grinned and pulled the lever that lowered her cockpit hood. Easing the throttle forward, the glossy black and red X-Wing began to move towards the hangar opening. Invadator's new TIE was in front of her and Kwea sent a little nudge of assurance to her through the Force. She wasn't too worried though. This would be cake after Mortis. Or maybe not.

TAGS: Darth_wanderguard, Anakin.Skywalker Mikaboshi Isley_27

 

IC: Xel Saxon
--Arena, Citadel, Sanctorium

Xel followed behind the green, tiny, creature that lurked in front of him, alongside the fellow Sith here to be tested, with troopers strolling behind them, uncertain of what was to come, he carried on with his orders to follow the creature. Amongst them lay the Arena before them, with a path on both sides of the corridor they were walking through, Saxon began to concentrate on his surroundings more, scanning little details of the area. Looking straight ahead, over the top of the short, green creature Xel saw a pit, he believed it was most likely where they were headed.

"Hrm!" The green creature grunted loudly, as he began to go up the ascending staircase which was located on the left side of the path, Saxon noticed the creature flick his claw in the air, swiftly, then bringing it down. Xel then felt a rigid blaster touching his back, as he was guided towards the right side of the path, with the other two members of the group. The Mandalorian unknown of what was happening, why they were splitting apart from the wise creature. However, without questioning, he followed the steps that led downwards.

As he heard an electronic voice come from behind him "Alright, let's go. And don't think of trying anything. Just cooperate, or that little monster will have your heads for sure" continuing to step down the dark passage that was leading down a sturdy staircase, for several metres, they were prodded along, blindly, until Xel saw a bright light before him, as a doorway opened, pushed out by the troopers behind them, the group were. The doors slammed behind him, making a loud noise.

The were in the pit that Saxon saw earlier, with stands raised above him, in all directions, many structures in this arena Xel noticed. The Mandalorian scouted the area only with his vision and senses, and saw the green creature perched high above the group in the pit. Xel stood silently waiting for an instruction, a task, anything. Saxon, controlled his patience well when the time was needed. He saw the marble floor, with trapdoors located in the centre of the pit, not knowing what was beneath the trapdoors. In fact, Xel didn't want to know what was down there.

The creature broke the silence, "Xel Saxon, Xaunder Dhoj... Phsycho," with a brief pause, "tested, you will be. Broken will you become, if weak you are. But weapons I will make of you... if worthy you are. Fear, do you feel? Hm? Tell me, you must. What do you fear?" Xel listened carefully to the speech the creature had made. Nobody spoke as of yet, Xel chose to think it out, unsure of what he feared completely, he responded with "I fear, the torture, of my people, of my clan, of my culture." Xel spoke loudly whilst glaring above at the creature perched up high.

Darth_wanderguard

 

IC: Xauder Dhoj-- Arena, Citadel, Sanctorium

Xauder, despite all of his training, was certainly not used to this. Even his best attempts of making himself free of his former bourgeois ways could not keep him from questioning why he was following a little green man at gunpoint. You're here to become more than just a rich tool. he thought to himself. It will just take a while. He knew the Sith liked to have it their way- which was often the hardest, and bloodiest. The little green man diverged from the group to walk up the left staircase. “Hrm!” the little thing said as he clicked his way up the stairs. "Alright, let's go.” Xauder felt a blaster to his back as the stormtrooper started to speak “And don't think of trying anything. Just cooperate, or that little monster will have your heads for sure.”
Xauder and the group were lead to the staircase on the right, going down through large doors. The doors closed behind them, leaving them in an arena. Xauder noticed the holes throughout the arena. Likely traps Xauder thought, but he couldn't tell what kind. Xauder looked up to face the lone survivor of a mysterious species. “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?"

Xauder was not sure what to say. Luckily, the Mandalorian Human next to him spoke up. "I fear, the torture, of my people, of my clan, of my culture." The man is nationalist. I must remember this. Xauder noted to himself. Xauder knew that he must answer the question, and truthfully: who knows if this Sith could read his mind? But, what could he say?

--Dhoj Homestead, Falleen--
A young Xauder was extremely proud of himself. He had just graduated from an esteemed college on his home planet, ready to work for the Black Sun as an accountant. He finally felt like he accomplished something- something that his rich parents couldn't give him. A accomplish something he did- he was in the top 100 of his large class. While he was very much disappointed not to be first, he decided that sometimes one was not always on top. It took training, and power, to do that.
Xauder saw his father close the door to his house. The Dhojs had just thrown a party to celebrate Xauder’s graduation. Honar sat down across his son and next to his wife, Anjrai. Xauder read a displeased face on his father. “What's wrong, Father?” Xauder asked Honar. “Son, I'd like to ask you a question” Honar said calmly. Xauder began to sweat. His Father was a strict man, and he knew he had done something wrong. But what? “Father, this isn't about me not being top of the class is it? I told you that I tried the best I could, and that I-” “Well maybe you didn't try hard enough, did you!” Honar yelled at his son. Xauder was dumbfounded. Honar continued. “You said you wanted to go to college. You said you could pay for everything. You said you can handle it. And now, my colleagues are wondering why my son, the son of a very smart man, I mind you, couldn't be the best.” “But I thought you said that y'all were proud of me” Xauder pleaded. Anjrai spoke up. “Oh, son, we are proud of you. Honey, you're-” Anjrai was interrupted by a slap to her face by Honar. “You stay out of this. This is just between him” he gestured to his son across from him, “and me.” Xauder stood up and was filled with rage. “You don't have to hit Mom!” Honar looked with a sly smile. “Oh, so now your on this lowly artist’s side. Let me show you what it's like to be weak, like you.” Honar kicked his son in the gut. Xauder felt to the ground. He tried to to defend himself, but his father kept coming with the blows. “You see how weak you are? You see how the strong rule this galaxy?” Honar kicked his son again. “You're weak my son.” Anjrai left the room weeping. Tears were rolling down Xauder's face. Honar kept kicking. “The galaxy doesn't need the weak. They need strong! Tell me you'll do better!” Xauder couldn't say anything through the tears. Honar spoke again. “TELL ME!” Honar kicked Xauder's face. “I'll...do...better” Xauder relented. Honar stopped kicking. “Good. Now go to your room until you make me feel ashamed.” Xauder got up slowly, bruised, and walked up to his room.
--Arena, Citadel, Sanctorium
Xauder finally responded, letting the rage flow through him. “Failure” Xauder told the Master of the Dark Arts ahead of him. “I fear failure.”

TAG: @Darth_wanderguard

 

Darth Serapis
Sith Temple Library, New Moraband

Searching. Hmmm. Searching for relics. Serapis liked this idea. How better to expand ones knowledge of our group's history than to research and find relics? When he had been in the academy on Ithor he had been assigned to a group of archaeologists once. The group had gone to older areas of surrounding planets and looked around for artifacts there. That's where he had found some of his first Sith artifacts, too. *sigh* They were back on Mortis on his ship.

The Dawn Herald, Serapis' former master, had shown them a map, some books and a projection of the planet. While Hades and the Lorekeeper looked over the map, he flipped through some of the tomes that were passed out. There was a good amount of information in here.

Hekate mentioned what she called ghostling warriors. "Hekate, I agree with you. In my experience, what is known as a 'ghost' is actually a Force spirit. And they're usually trying to get others out because they don't see them as 'worthy.' We'll see how they view us when we go in there," he mused. She had also mentioned a table-sized book. Fascinating!

"I see there's also this 'Castle Ctal'thua.'" We should check that out. Haunted places can be entertaining and... oh, look!" he called Dark Lady Bellorum's attention to the book in front of him. "A graveyard." He passed the book to her.

He picked up a second book and started to flip through it. With any rumor there was always some level of truth. The rumors of haunted palaces and areas around this planet were multiple. There was one, though, that he thought they should avoid. "I don't know about this one. An asylum for the insane."

He was about to ask when they would be taking off-world expeditions when the Mirialan woman next to him tapped him, “Excuse me, sir, but would you mind uh, reading some of these maps to me? You see, I um, I never learned to read.” Serapis smiled. "Absolutely. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Stick with me. You'll be able to read these things in no time. Call me Serapis."

Tag: Lady Belligerent, corinthia, Mikaboshi, E. L.Knight, Darth Rozic, Nehru_Amidala

 

Phayco walked down the dark path willingly... truthfuly he wondered if they would have to guess which way to go. He was going to choose down anyways. He walked along, acting as though the storm troopers were not even there... not to seem "strong" but simply because he didn't really care.

As his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness they were assured into the arena and his eyes were once again forced to re-establish his surroundings. He squinted and looked around, catching sight of the small green alien in the stands and the vents and trap door on the floor. Then the creature spoke... what did he fear? What a question... he knew the answer easily but he waited for the others.

After the Mandaorian and Faleen had spoken he spoke as well, a calm voice... yet a voice exhoing with pain. "I fear loss... not loss of my life or the loss of a contest, but loss of what i love. However... what I loves has already been lost and now I have nothing left to loose asside from my life. I've given up fearing the loss of that long ago. If anything... perhaps I fear I will never find what I once had... and worse yet, I fear what may happen if I do."

He knew those arpund him... the green alien included, probably had no idea that he had lost the love of his life. It didn't matter, though. He had been asked what he feared, not for a backstory.

Darth_wanderguard

 

These re going to be short, sorry for that.
The Lorekeeper
Sith Temple, New Moraband

His silence was due to exhaustion, though usually appearing sickly his skin was even more pallid and his eyes showed dark circles beneath them. He had accomplished a great dead, one that would benefit the Empire in these dark times, but the cost to himself was great. He would need time to recover, time to gather his strength again.

Time they did not have.

He listened to the scheming of the others as he stared blankly at the map before him, he cared nothing for maps. Take him there, place his feet upon the ground and let his eyes wander over the location, he would feel the power. All of them could, if they listened carefully they would hear the call of lost tombs and relics of power.

For now he had nothing to add to the conversation, he was a chronicler, strategic planning was not his forte.

Tag: Lady Belligerent corinthia E. L.Knight Darth Rozic Nehru_Amidala DarthIshyZ

Darth Cruor
Citadel, Sanctorium, New Moraband

The tall mass of darkness that was Darth Cruor stood behind Haretisch with arms crossed, listening carefully to the plans as they were laid out. His ability to absorb damage made him perfect for such an assault, and he was eager to test his reborn body.

As the Night Herald concluded his instruction and the squad departed to their ships the Gen'Dai remained near his Lord, with their conquest of New Moraband they would begin to rebuild the Empire....together. Though his mask was partially hidden in the shadows of his hood the red glow of his eyes could still be seen, they followed each of them in turn. Invadator slaughtering scarce resources, Cruor cared nothing for the human that lay dead his only concern was of it's use to the Empire, it's potential wasted.

He would speak with her on the subject, later.

Tag: Darth_wanderguard Halle Dray Anakin.Skywalker Isley_27

 

Imperial inspection. A personal invitation. All papers in order, nothing to see here, just looking for a safe place to stay, want a fresh start, here for pleasure, not business. He knew them all. Credit chips would be slipped if necessary, the right bottle of brandy to ensure there were no hard feelings on either side. Always important to remember that the ship and crew were at their mercy, regardless of feelings stating otherwise.

Inspection was always a tool to be abused. Rip the ship to pieces with glee, but reassemble it with half the fervor. Little things made big fines. Jole had no doubt that Admiral Thrawn was just as strict as those that preceded him. Rule by intimidation.

They had exited hyperspace and entered the planet’s orbit, Jole had positioned himself in the cockpit minutes before their imminent arrival. He knew the drill. Send a big ship, overwhelm the crew by awe, not force. Discourage any thoughts of fleeing. Make them feel the inevitability of it all.

How many smuggling crews had he ridden and hidden with? How many inspections had he witnessed? The best captains were the ones whose ships had no foreign footprints.

They were being hailed. Kenkorro placed a hand on his pilot’s shoulder, squeezed gently. The rest of his small crew had trickled in, no more than a dozen men. “It’s always good to find a new home. Times have not been easy, I know. But this can be a new beginning.” Was that for the crew, or for him? Well, a new planet at least. Jole had proven successful at the life of an underworld liaison and cantina owner. Why change things now?

He had nothing to hide, not anymore. They had long ago ceased hunting him. But still, he could sense something wrong. The Force told him so, but it did not always give specifics. He rubbed the sleeve over his forearm. Years before, a lightsaber would sit there snug, hidden beneath the sleeves of his robe in a special pocket. Now, it lay hidden away, packed with other belongings. What place did they have? He was no longer a general. He was no longer a warrior.

That was a long time ago.

That was a different life, and he was now a different man.

“Sir, they have our ship locked. They'll be onboard in ten minutes.” Nothing out of the ordinary there. The pilot’s next words sounded more hesitant, “I don’t recognize that class of ship, sir.”

Jole’s attention returned to the window. He saw it. That queasy feeling of wrongness, that nagging in the back of his head, it finally revealed itself.

They didn’t send an Immobilizer. It wasn’t a light cruiser. It wasn’t even a Star Destroyer.

It was a Lictor.

Click

His mouth was dry. It wasn’t a sudden jolt awake that brought him to, he had been coming in and out of consciousness for several hours now. Still, it was hard for him to talk. He had tried opening his mouth, wanting to ask for water, but his lips were chapped and cracking. How long had he been out for? He was slowly regaining feeling, first in his hands, then his feet. A prickly sensation remained elsewhere, his limbs felt distant.

He had tried standing, but found two things preventing him. One, his body was a deadweight, he could barely move his hands, let alone his entire frame. Two, and slightly more inconvenient, he was strapped in.

Minutes passed by, his muscles regained consciousness one by one. He hadn’t bothered calling out for help, he knew where he was. Throughout the Republic’s history, the Lictor-class was known for one thing, and one thing only. It was a prison for Jedi. Where was his crew and his ship now? Were they even alive? He couldn’t remember much other than the dread seeing the ship for the first time.

His binds were not metal. They were thick straps, holding him firmly into place, over his forearms, legs, and chest. But, as he found, he could move his hands and feet. The numbness was disappearing too, but there was still a prickly sensation throughout his body. He began to wiggle himself more forcibly; the binds were not constricting; they were more of a preventive measure. Needed to make sure his comatose body didn’t plunge out of bed, take the whole coma-pumping apparatus with him. Whoever had captured him had had no intentions of waking him before a more proper time.

His mouth was a bit moister, it no longer hurt to swallow, though his throat was red and parched. He continued to move his limbs, trying desperately to get a hand free. He could just barely sit up, his head rising just slightly above his chest. He saw the cell door; he saw in the distance a cell door across from him. Was he alone? No, he heard others stirring.

It took time, and patience, but his right hand came free. He tried his best to remain quiet. Where were the guards? Where was anybody? The strap over his forearm was less of an issue, it just took some sliding and shifting to free his arm. He slowly worked on his other straps, the left arm, his chest, finally his legs and feet. His legs still felt like lead, but he swung them over the bed, his bare feet touched a cold, metallic floor.

He needed the help of the medical machinery to stand himself up. He went to take a step forward, and the effects of two long months of zero leg activity kicked in. He collapsed to the ground. Insult to injury. Or just more injury.

He started to crawl towards the cell door, “At least no one can see me”. He remembered a faint click, and hoped against hope it wasn’t just the machine turning off. He pressed himself up against the wall near his cell door, and slowly lifted himself into a standing position. His legs were still wobbly, but the wall helped support his weight. He still could use some water, now he was light-headed from the work. He pressed gently on the door; it swung neatly open.

It was a good start, but now what?


TAG: Sinrebirth, ConservativeJedi321, everyone

 

Jagall Neidav IC:
~Hangar Bay, Sith Temple~

They maneuvered straight for the man with the cape, which somehow didn't surprise him. Then again, he seemed to be the only one who showed up to greet Moff Esmeralda, which he personally found a little shocking. Were he more certain and trusting of the woman, he might have even been a little offended on her behalf.

As it was, he didn't know any of them. Part of the reason he was assigned to mix with them at all he supposed and what better way to counter the Sith but with Jedi?

Still. The headaches this will likely give me are…

A mental sigh was checked, his face neutral the whole time, and he watched as the Moff and Sith approached each other with clear familiarity. Then a comment about him being her bodyguard. A nickname perhaps?

That sounded a bit…warm. And there was a weird half lean toward the man, almost like it was a hesitation of some sort before talking about the mission from Grand Moff Ike. Hesitation or self-catching? Hm. If he were more certain he would have noted it, but what would that have meant if it was true?

The answer was obvious of course, but it just didn't mesh in his mind. Sith don't…well, they don't like anyone. At least not by what he knew of them and he had personally seen the aftermath of carnage of a passing Lord Vader during the Galactic Civil War. Thank the Force he was never in the Sith Lord's way as he simply wouldn't have been ready to duel that monster!

In any event, she also introduced him to the Sith that was nearly his height, only off by a few inches. He offered a small smile and bowed, despite his misgivings.

"Jagall Neidav to be exact, I am sure our partnership shall prove to be interesting to say the least. I hope we get along despite our Order's histories."

The Sith didn't really react to his introduction, not yet at least as he took the datapad and read it first. Perhaps he was a business first type? Or probably Anti-Jedi, like most Sith were. The Purge had proven the truth of that.

He quite easily caught the expression of puzzlement thrown both his way and the Moff's, there was also something else thrown in the look toward him. It was hard to say for sure as it was very brief, but it wouldn't be a stretch to think it was some form of dislike. The information being handed to him was quite likely detailing the fact that they would be together.

Huzzah and hurray for them all!

Sigh. It seems I've entered into quite the den here.

Hardly surprising. And the fact that they were now whispering under their breath to each other? Yes, also not surprising.

He allowed a small look of discomfort to show, before waiting for them to end their whispered exchange. It was time to see how far the man would go in ignoring him or if he wasn't as bad as he initially thought.

Waiting till the right moment, he held out his hand toward him in an attempt of a handshake. Even if he didn't introduce himself, he would at least see what the Sith would tolerate.

Tag: Darth Kronos Sinrebirth

 

IC: Darth Foedus
Sith Temple, New Moraband

Foedus examined the maps and books scattered around the table. Some of them seemed interesting (stuff like "The Lost Locations of Zakuul") and others seemed less interesting (like "The Complete Collections of Fossilized Geological Curiosity's").

After further examination of the books Foedus concluded that he should just accompany his master where ever he goes.

Foedus yawned and started talking; "I would like to accompany Lord Hades where ever he might be going. It would help progress my education and I believe that I would be able to progress much further into the mission with his assistance."

Tag: Lady Belligerent @Nehru_Amidala @DarthIshyZ @corinthia @E. L.Knight

 

OOC: Another post exploring Teafa's background, approved by Sinrebirth.

IC: Teafa Phaidraig/ Catu Therin (Luka Sene Temple)/ Mulidar (Capital City)/ Alpheridies

Minutes had passed, and still Teafa stood before the Luka Sene council. It was mildly amazing that she had even been given this chance to present her vision to the Seers, given her age and how infrequently they entertained other, lower ranking member's in this capacity. One of the perks of being an in demand research assistant I suppose. That she actually had a working relationship with five of the seven Seers, and had helped each of them with pet projects, certainly was part of it. Part of her thought that the length of the debate was probably a good thing, as it hadn't been denied immediately as she'd kind of suspected it would be. But the lack of Seer Farndal concerned her, as he was the most unorthodox of the group and her personal favorite. Even if he was a bit of a drunk.

Finally the council of Seers turned their attention back to her, and Gilliard, the speaker for the council, began to pronounce the outcome. "First off, we would all like to thank you for bringing this to our attention. It does seem that there are some dire portents surrounding this vision, an explosion in the Force as you put it. It is something that we shall have to consider some more before deciding what is to be done, but know this we do all acknowledge that there is something here." Clearing his throat, Teafa felt his focus sharpen on her. "However, the Seers do not find you to be the one who should be going to find out about this. We know that you have grown a lot since your arrival here nearly a decade ago, but you have shown a proclivity towards a certain fragility that we simply can not ignore. This is hardly unreasonable given your past, and none of us holds this against you. We just fear that sending you into such an obviously darkside steeped circumstance as traveling to Morabund and seeking out the Sith... would ultimately result in your demise. And nothing that the Force has revealed to us has convinced us of any other outcomes. We cannot in good conscious grant your request Miss Phaidraig." His expression softened as he took in how obviously devastated she was. "Teafa, none of us wants to see you get hurt and we don't see any other possible outcomes here. We've decided to ignore your little jaunts with Talwar, and yes we are well aware of them, because we've noticed how much good it has done you to help others. But this is simply too far. I'm sorry." With that he started to rise, signaling the end of the meeting.

It wasn't something that she would normally have done, but she knew that if she didn't go to Morabund that there would be consequences for the entire galaxy, and so she spoke again. "You have to let me go! You said yourselves that there is something to do this, why else would the Force reveal it to me and no one else if I wasn't the one that was supposed to go? You can't do this! Gilliard, please..."

Before she could continue Seer Alazaria cut her off. "Look, we understand how you feel about this, but the answer is final. There wasn't even a single dissenting vote amongst us, so even if Seer Farndal had been here it wouldn't have made any difference." The female Seer set her mouth in a thin line. "And do not think about going to Farndal with this while he's drunk, we'll find out about it and you will be punished for it." Rising with the other five Seers she said, "You are dismissed Miss Phaidraig, do not bring this up to us again. We will handle things from here." With that everything was decided, so far as they were concerned.

Sighing, Teafa turned and left the chamber, crossing over the eye that was laid out in tiled wood on the floor. It was something she'd always found odd, that the symbol for the Seers was an eye even though her species lacked it completely. I need to find Farndal before they tell him about this. It was going against the council's direct orders, but the vision had kept showing up in her dreams and meditations. An explosion in the Force, destroying entire planets. Systems. And the only thing that she knew was that the key lay with Morabund, with the Sith. And if he won't help me then... I don't want it to come to that.

Emerging out into the halls Teafa paused, and stretched out with her sight, taking in everyone that was around her, looking for that one signature that she knew better than most who lived in Catu Therin, and after several moment she spotted him out in one of the gardens doing... something. Farndal, what in the Force are you doing with that creature? Curiosity as well as necessity drew her that way, as she passed through pristine marble halls a spark of anger began to well up in her. How can they not see? Why else would the Force keep throwing this at me if I wasn't supposed to be there. Ashla, please don't let me have to steal for this. Please.

It took several minutes to make it through the winding passages to that specific garden, one of ten scattered about the grounds. They were all different, this one was apparently based around white flowers and plants, and several avian creatures some of which had been imported from varying other worlds. The Garden of Air, or as she'd heard a stranger comment on as they were passing through the Garden of Blinding White. Apparently they had gone a little overboard and there was practically no green or brown anywhere as even the tree trunks were bone white, but there was enough variation in the way that the miraluka saw things that Teafa had always found it to be beautiful instead of overwhelming. She had been idly curious about how other species saw things, but that was a pipe dream that no miraluka had understood for centuries.

A smile crept onto her face as she saw Farndal standing in a herky jerky position, refusing to move with several birds having landed on him. It was almost as though he were meditating... but it was the most uncomfortable position to do it in that she could imagine, every joint bent and held at varying angles, his feet not even on level ground. Quietly she crept forward, cloaking her physical presence as well as her Force presence. She had become determined to sneak up on this man before he died, as somehow he always managed to see through her attempts to hide. But he was the only one at this point, she had been hiding herself pretty much constantly for years at this point, mainly her presence when on Alpheridies, and that practice had managed to blind even the other six Seer's to her presence. She had no clue if she was as good at cloaking her physical presence or not, but she hadn't been found anytime that she and Talwar went out on missions, so she could only assume that it was being done well.

"Don't scare the snow birds, Phaid. This has taken me hours," Farndal said at a low whisper and she sighed in exasperation.

"And what is this?" She asked back quietly, annoyance creeping into her voice despite her efforts to keep emotion out of her voice. But there was no response forthcoming. After a minute Teafa sighed, realizing that this could take a while, but he was literally her only option at this point. Short of just taking a ship, which was her last resort. So Teafa sat down next to one of the trees and rested her chin in her hand, simply watching what was going on. Which was essentially a whole lot of nothing.

"This is me working on my inner peace," Farndal said about ten minutes later. "Via bird droppings," he added right as two of the birds defecated on his robes. For a moment Teafa just stared, and then burst out laughing, incapable of holding it back because of the absurdity of the situation. Seconds later she was joined by a now much more naturally positioned Farndal. After they finally regained control of themselves Farndal said, "So what can I do you for, Phaid? You wouldn't have waited around if you didn't need something." He smile in a manner that suggested he already had some kind of inkling, which wouldn't surprise her given that he had been meditating.

Opening her mouth Teafa almost began to talk, when she realized that lying to Farndal probably was going to ultimately be a very bad idea. And if that smile was any indication then he already knew what she was there for. Taking a deep breath, she decided on simply telling the truth. "I need your permission to leave the system. I've had a vision of an explosion in the Force that has cataclysmic consequences for the galaxy, and I need to seek out the Sith to help stop it. I've already talked to the other Seers and they said no, even though they admitted that there was something to the vision." She trailed off for a moment, and then added, "And they told me not to go to you for help." A certainty settled on Teafa in that moment before Farndal spoke, a certainty that she was going to get no help from anyone on this planet.

Farndal played with a flower that he had picked, and absently stroked the petals for several moments before saying, "And you come to me and ask me to go against my fellow Seers. How much of this has to do with your fascination with using emotions tied to the Force?" It was a question that none of the other Seers had thought to ask, and it spoke to the difference in their relationship. Not even Talwar had thought to ask it.

"I know what it looks like, but it has nothing to do with that. I just... I know there's something that I have to do there Farndal. I guess it might have helped my case if I had any clue what that might be, but by Ashla I know that if I'm not there it is going to be bad." Teafa toyed with one of her sleeves, wishing that she didn't already know how this was going to play out.

Pursing his lips for a moment, Farndal actually seemed to be considering his response. And then he shook his head, "Maybe if you'd come to me first, but I'm afraid that I can not go against the council. I hope that I'm not making a mistake with this, but I simply do not see an alternative. I'm sorry Phaid, even I have my limits." A smile crossed his lips, "Even as unlikely as that might seem."

Nodding Teafa said, "I'm sorry that I asked you then Seer Farndal. I'll leave you to your meditations." She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, and didn't quite succeed. Turning to go, she stopped and asked him something that she'd been wondering about for a while. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you call me Phaid?"

She had expected him to laugh at the question, instead he looked almost sad. "Because you seem to be trying to fade out of existence. And you're getting closer to succeeding every day." It wasn't the answer she had expected in the slightest. "It's also much easier than saying your full last name. Phaidraig is such a mouthful." He smiled at her gently, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Nodding, Teafa said "Thank you," before turning to leave. Fade out of existence? I just don't like being noticed, that's not trying to not exist. Is it? It was something that she had never considered before, and so she thought about what exactly Farndal might have meant as she walked away.

"Phaid," Farndal called to her before she got too far away. "Don't lose yourself among the Sith, they will change you. Everything that they touch is corrupted by their narcissism and backstabbing." He waved farewell to Teafa.

Not turning around, but having focused her attention in that direction she saw the wave. And the sad smile. He knows me too well. "Thank you Seer Farndal, I won't. Farewell." With that she started walking again.

"Ashla be with you Phaid, you will need her help." With that Farndal returned back to his prior position, but Teafa could feel a certain heaviness in him as she walked away. Sighing softly, Teafa headed back to her quarters. Guess I need to figure out a plan to steal a ship. And some supplies. Ashla help me.

TAG: NO ONE

 

IC: Darth Leda
Citadel, New Moraband / Shuttle

Hardly able to contain her growing excitement, Leda broke into the hangar practically at a run. In her eagerness to not only be prompt but early, the young woman’s legs had almost begun moving faster than she could handle which caused her to stumble slightly over the threshold. She slammed to a halt.

Calm the kriff DOWN, she scolded mentally with a frustrated grunt.

While it wasn’t completely out of her nature to overdo the enthusiasm for a new assignment, on this particular mission it would be quite inappropriate even for herself. Well, perhaps not completely. But did she want to come off as a hyper-anxious child to her superiors? Absolutely not. In no realm or timeline would she everallow that to happen. Then why was she so flustered? New time, new place? No that wasn’t it. It was… nerves. Leda, fierce warrior and all, was nervous about the impending journey and those she would share it with. This was not something she cared to admit, even within the confines of her own mind. So she did her best to bury the uncomfortable feeling.

Sucking in a breath, Leda straightened up and raised her chin. She lifted a hand to smooth her pale hair and adjust a piece of gear before bidding her legs to walk at a much more reasonable pace.

Scanning the area as she strutted along and searched for the designated meeting point, her eyes peered through the steady stream of techs, pilots and droids that went about their tasks. The hubbub thinned out at just the right moment and she spotted him, her intense gaze locking on a towering creature. It appeared to be the Wookiee, Ravenous… but there was something off.She raised a brow in intrigue and then noted the shuttle he was plodding towards. There we are.

Hugging her bag to her chest, she made a beeline for the vessel and in her single-mindedness nearly collided with a tall and rather severe looking Kaminoan. Leda yelped in surprise then growled in annoyance, pulling back in time for the alien to pass. “Well you lot are certainly tall,” she muttered under breath. She recognized this Sith as a part of her team so, mimicking an air of superiority, she followed close behind.

Finally approaching the open shuttle ramp, Leda walked up to the red-head who had taken position at the bottom. "Take your datacards and get aboard, High Lord Hesper will be ready to start the briefing momentarily," she directed.

Accepting the little gift, Leda palmed the datacard and responded with a slight nod of acknowledgement before ascending into the ship. As she stepped into the main hold, her focus was immediately drawn to the petite blonde that stood farthest from the entrance. High Lord Hesper, her leader and the holder of all things Leda envied; strength, power and ferociousness on such a level that was not so much outwardly noticed but felt. Not wanting to appear like she was gawking, she grabbed a seat nearby and instead began to take note of her new companions as the shuttle lifted off.

Her interest in Ravenous was confirmed as he was now sporting several lethal-looking appendages that were most assuredly not native to his species. Whatever sort of dark magics he had to endure to… grow them made her involuntarily shudder. Then there was the charming Kaminoan, Cocytus she recalled. While she would still love to converse with such a bizarre looking creature, his demeanor told her he would probably scoff at the idea. She shrugged to herself, his loss. Looking across to the Gungan, another species she found fascinating, she did not yet know his name but would be sure to find out. Now, where was that red-head from before…

“Greetings,” Lady Hesper began, startling Leda out of her thoughts. She swung around to fully face the High Lord, taking in every word and noting every instruction. So they were to weed out any spies, interrogating and extracting information from the enlisted crew of the Obelisk, Darth Bellorum's ship. Briefly reminiscing over her own short-lived time as a spy aboard the Reunion, she had failed to master the level of discretion required to be effective though of course that was her own doing. She would be much more professional now, naturally. Listening as each team member was assigned a chosen task, she grew more and more impatient to learn her own.

“Oh, and Leda? I’d like to have a word with you in the cockpit.”

About time, she mused as Hesper made for the forward section of the ship. Only allowing a moment to ponder why she would not be receiving her directive in front of the others, Leda stood and followed in her Lady’s wake. Upon entering the small enclosed space, her eyes narrowed at the two other beings at the helm before meeting the gaze of her superior. “I read your file before you arrived and I have a special assignment just for you, Leda,”Hesper began as Leda remained standing with hands clasped behind her back. While she definitely appreciated being given something considered “special”, upon hearing that she would be slicing into the systems of the personal flag ships of both the Emperor and Night Herald, well she had to admit the task would be daunting even for her. She suddenly felt fidgety... there were those damn nerves again.

The High Lord then produced a datapad and a small comm device from her person. “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.” Accepting both gadgets as Hesper stood, she placed small but firm hands on the warrior's shoulders. Standing this close, Leda scrutinized the large and ragged scar that ran down over the young woman’s eye and cheek, wondering by what means she had been so permanently marked. While an ordinary being might look at Hesper with pity that her pretty face had been marred in such a garish way, to Leda she thought the wound was a thing of beauty.

“I need your loyalty and your word. Can I trust you’ll succeed, Leda?”

Carefully guarding a hint of anxious emotion, Leda inclined her head towards the woman before her. “I will succeed, my Lady,” she stated boldly, then allowed a smile to cross her features. “When do I start?”


TAGS: corinthia Lady Belligerent WookieeRageDarth Cocytus Darth Osnil

 

Radian T'lenity
Space

The Jedi took in a deep breath of musty air as his eye's fluttered open.

A cage, he was in a cage that much he could tell. He shouldn't be surprised, while he couldn't remember the precise chain of events that led him here he knew one thing for certain. "Sith...." he muttered. "Why did it have to be Sith."

Radian felt grogginess overtake him, and he was tempted to fall back into unconsciousness.
Though he resisted the urge.

Instead he slid his back up against the wall, and crossed his legs.
Clearly he was drugged, that much was obvious. But he couldn't be sure what kind of drug it was. In his years on the front lines he had experienced many different types of alien substances, and while he was more of a warrior than a healer, he was no stranger to at least sustaining himself in such circumstances.

He reached in, careful not to rush. He focused, attempting to find the substance that was desperately trying to force him back into unconsciousness, so perhaps he just might slow it.
And he needed to get a reading on his environment.

There is no Emotion there is Peace

His breathing slowed as his meditation deepened.

There is no Ignorance there is Knowledge.

Patience, calm, in search for any unnatural disturbance.

There is no Passion, there is Serenity.

He felt the light encompass him as he felt his heart beat, and his immediate surroundings fade.

There is no Chaos there is Harmony.

Something, there was something...

There is no Death there is the Force.

Something was wrong, really wrong.

Radian instantly snapped out of his trance. This wasn't right, there was something in the current of the force, it was the one he knew, yet it was different, off somehow. A wave, or altercation that hadn't been there before. A change. Yet somehow it also felt familiar...

The drug has began to fade, almost naturally by no action of Radians, and his curiosity only mounted.
"What is going on?" He spoke suspiciously.

Sinrebirth, theometric, everyone

 

A wee combo with Sinrebirth & Mitth_Fisto

---

He lies. He says we have not yet perfected the art of deception. But we have. He spews forth false promises! Old trickster that wants to hijack our mind and commandeer it for himself! Old crooked con wants to use us as a stepping stone!

“HUSH!” Darth Anark roared aloud to the restless worm in his head.

He looked up at the Emperor in his pilot’s chair, the young Sith’s senses still coming to after the events of the previous hour. The binds he found himself in felt rather flimsy but he kept. There was some sense in what the voice had said; Insipid wasn’t exactly famous for being a man of his word. The timing of this promise of an ascension was not odd, the Sith of the Order had surely lost some faith in his majesty. Even the Night Herald hadn’t rose through the ranks without his share of treachery, he’d shown how much festering secrets and dark deeds of the past can take an extraordinary toll on one’s mind.

But what else was there?

He – likely the same as all the other Sith – believed he could and would lead this Empire to greatness. In time.

Anark regarded Insipid, each elbow resting on a knee with his chin cradled in his palms.

“I am flattered by your belief in me, my Lord. And your optimism for the future.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied the Dark Lord’s facial expressions and body language.

“Perhaps you could extend me some of that ‘confidence’ right now? How exactly does one seize control of a Galactic Empire?”

Insipid smiled at Anark, softly and sadly. 'That is exactly what I want, my friend. To extend my confidence to you.' He noted the Holocron. 'To both of you. It has been a long, long fight, and I find myself, yet again, trying to find the right formula for Sith victory.'

For a moment, a long one, the God-Emperor appeared tired, perhaps even crestfallen.

It passed, and he handled the Holocron. It seemed pleased with the arrangement. Which served his purposes as he needed the Holocron as much as he needed Anark. He needed all of them. Carefully, Insipid pressed the Holocron into the spot where the proton bomb core was ordinarily housed on an Imperial Infiltrator droid.

The design had been abandoned as too finesse and expensive for a total war, especially when a ship from Thrawn's task force had been destroyed by a reprogrammed one. And while blame for that had been lain at the feet of 'Fulcrum', the erstwhile Rebel agent that had wielded the cells of the Rebellion into an Alliance, some of the taint had stained the droids credentials since.

'To take control of an Empire one must, first, control the Force. An Empire needs Order; an Order. Once one has an Order one can take what one wants.'

'The issue has often been on how to weave a Sith Order. The Rule of Three managed the inevitability of Sith power bases forming within the Empire, but it still clings to the central issue; a group of Sith will inevitably scheme at the least opportune moment.' He reflected on his new hands. 'And while I have myself discovered that I am not immune to the allure of such an idea, even at the height of my greatest success, even as I became the Son I realised that without an Order the victory is hollow. Haretisch on the other hand has decided that without an Empire it is hollow.'

A soft snort. 'And so I would extend the idea of the Rule of Three. A dark side elite, as an extension of my will,' he turned his hand aside. 'Metaphorically, of course, designed to provide a small but powerful counterweight in any conflict. The balance of events, not the turning force. Essential to the Rule.'

Insipid's eyes had lost focus. 'And that requires men and women I can trust. Powerful ones, that I can make as strong as myself with sufficient application.'

He glanced at the droid as it powered up. The God-Emperor schooled his features into neutrality. The droid was exceedingly dangerous without the cunning mind of a Sith to hand.

As it was placed inside the socket there was a momentary thrill of excitement! How long since it had felt such things? It did not like to fathom as in truth it did not even feel such when it killed a god, nor when was about to be killed by one. Yet the idea of having a body without giving up it's status or gaining the fleshy vulnerabilities thereof was deeply intriguing.

The socket slowly clamped down on its form, drawing it in, docking it. There was the soft whirs and clicks as systems began engaging, and data like so much thought exploded into it's minds! The droid was seeking what was added, what activated it, what this thing. . .was. It had no flair, no tilt nor lean to itself. It was the raw direct approach personified in a blaster, lightsaber, or other tool. Point and click and it would do it, adjusting on changing parameters of perceived environment. Except of course the droid would do much of the adjusting itself. As it came to this conclusion the droid came to it's own. That static flat male voice erupted as the dim white eyes flashed. "Primary Data Core and Processor installed. Adjusting parameters to secondary processor. Systems alterations noted, updating primary core."

To have called it a war of the wills would have been ridiculous. The droid practically wanted to be dominated. It had no true heuristic's and ignored what it did not understand, now it truly had the gift of never having to even try to pay attention. As the parameters and data flows came in, it found the similarity to thoughts intriguing. Altering it's perception of them it found it could see not only through it's own facets but through the droids eyes as well. Now there were Sith and other Force users that would put a spell on the droid warping it's programing, but for now, it found merely being that buffer to all the actions was all the alterations it wanted. . .except perhaps.

With more audible clicks and whirs sections and segments of the droids body seperated, not fully, just enough to test that they could. Turning the head to look at the Emperor the jaw fell away to reveal a host of red eyes, scanning, watching. "This unit is a satisfactory beginning to an apology. It is accepted. Although to your proposal. . ." As it spoke the voice slowly altered, from the flat static male tones to a soft, androgynous lilt. "We will need upgrades to this body to make it suitable for teaching endeavors. And there is knowledge we have decided you should have before accepting us."

With a snap click the jaw retracted, once more to only display those two tiny white eyes. "Most of us are not Sith. We are not Sith. We have taught many, born under Vitiate's star, we aided the Revanites. We settled Tund. We chanted with Dathomir. We even have breathed the Breath of Life. All added and all changing to what we all are amongst ourselves. Do you truly want such a balance? For costs of such is knowledge much rarer then we have yet had access to."

Anark's eyes darted between Insipid and the strange droid, making a sincere effort to keep his face neutral while pulling apart in his mind what each of them had said.

Extend his confidence to five more Sith, one of which will impale you on their blade when the position of High Lord can be seen on the horizon!

The voice in his head came to him skittish and anxious, clutching to paranoid ideas and preaching at him as it spat it's theories of a conspiracy. He shook his head and glanced back at the Insipid, hyperspace's blue sheen flashing cross one side of the Emperors face.

Anark stood, with his hands still in binds he desperately wanted to caress Soliloquy's new plating, the ancient holocron's new powerhouse form. The young Sith had always been more inclined to physically touch a fresh acquaintance rather than offer a handshake. He resisted and instead regarded his former master. This was a rare occasion where Darth Anark actually felt himself to be more switched on and focused in the moment than the Emperor was, his eyes showed that his focus was divided.

Anark crouched down and squatted in front of the pilot's chair, his hands clasped together in their chains, his robes pooled around him on the floor and eyes gazing through the viewport.

"I am ready to walk with you, my Lord."

TAG: None​

 

IC: Darth Ravenous

The walk from the situation that ensued was a long one. The blood, the gore, the encumberance that came with the feeding. He felt… Good with the Trooper’s sacrifice: willing or not. It kept him whole, or satisfied in a lesser-born’s terms. He would need more eventually which would lead him to his squad’s gathering. Briefing, strategizing, it didn’t matter. He would prove himself in the heat of the moment and he would get what he needed. He listened as Hesper briefed the apprentices on their mission but the ’Wookiee’ faded into a daydream as the High Lord drone on.
How did you get to this point, Ravenous? The voice of a man questioned the Sith Spawn.
Who are you? Why are you talking to me, the inner monologue of the Mutant responded.
He was sitting amongst the rest of his Squad, currently getting briefed by the High Lord Hesper and beneath his shrouded cowl he reached forward, acting as if he was interested in what she had to say. He already understood the point of the gathering, the whole scheme of what was transpiring between groups of the Emperor. He knew his role and he would shut his mouth, at least for words. He understood he had to feast… I mean… Interrogate a group of Troopers with the Kamonian; another offworld species…
Oh good… someone like me. The Mutant thought, retaining his old thoughts.
Suddently the Sithspawn stood up with his right paw in salute.
“RN-2348 Ready for duty, Mam!?”
He jerked back in confusion and pulled his hood back up, settling back into the comfortable lounge chairs the Empire set up for their briefing.

What the Kriff, Ravenous thought to himself between the cobbled memories, He thought he might be experiencing the Trooper’s memories inherently due to his condition.

Great…..
He sank back into his thoughts to escape the crowd, taking In everything effortlessly. He had become more intelligent than he wanted to say; The Sith would probably kill him if they knew what he was capable of. Listening to Hesper’s briefing was the back of Ravenous’ mind. He was already ready for his next feeding…. I mean.. Mission. He would feast… I mean…. Interrogate the prisoners…”possible Spys.”

The feeling kept surging through the Mutant as he remained unmoved however a small voice kept pestering him. The one that he consumed in the hall.
Now that you killed me, I’m stuck with you, I can do what I please with your body, Freak!

The Sithspawn shuddered beneath his hood and continued his thoughts.

Forgive him, for he knows what he does, it was all instinct. Who would’ve known what would’ve become of the Wookiee; Full of pain. He suffered internally for externally of the Sith’s gain within the battle of Mortis. He became more than his species had ever dreamed of; A weapon of the greatest Faction this era had ever seen. They would survive no matter where they were.


Waking to the droning of Hesper’s briefing the Wookiee looked to the High Lord with intent. This is what he was destined for. Not the mission, but the satisfaction of the Order, To please the Triumvirate is what he was meant for, His death, at this point would be a gift, therefore, no fear of death and no mercy was to be given. He looked into Hesper’s ravenous eyes as she described his mission, he grew hungry and looked to Cocytus. The Kaminoan’s bulbous Sithly eyes turn color as he faded back into his hood.

Tag: corinthia, Darth Cocytus, @Rest of squadron who are with this BAMF.

 

GM UPDATE

IC: Darth Haretisch -- En Route to Boneyard, New Moraband

Engines whined as the convoy took flight, one ship after another, and ascended through stormy cloud cover above the citadel.

The Night Herald stood unusually tall and straight for himself, hands clasped behind his back beneath the cover of his cape, watching through the viewport as the cityscape of Sanctorium gave way to an abyssal swamp. The black, soggy morass stretched for hundreds of miles, and on foot it would seem unending to one in its midst - like the entire galaxy was only a series of stagnant bogs, twisted vines, and dead rivers still and unflowing.

It was a relatively small force - three starfighters, three troop transports, one gunship. As much as he would have liked to descend on Boneyard with all the might of an Imperial Star Destroyer, Darth Haretisch knew that it would have been a terrible waste of resources. That, and he simply didn't trust these hand-me-down Imperials to be very competent. He surely wouldn't have put any of them in a position to flatten the fortress, as an Imperial Star Destroyer could have easily done. The few he had personally vetted in the two weeks prior - Chaos Company, and a handful of pilots and gunners - would make an adequate complement for the time being.

"You're eager to start," the Night Herald said and turned to look at Cruor with a slight grin. The two had a long history and a good deal of common ground - it was of course the Gen'Dai lord who had first watered the seeds of darkness in a young brash Jedi known as Plo. Both would be betrayed by the same Dark Lord. And both had played learner to Typhojem. Cruor was in every way a known quantity. A powerful ally and feared enemy, one who could be trusted to revere only power, to obey only the worthy. Darth Haretisch had every intention of keeping Darth Cruor in his own stable.

Ahead in the distance, Boneyard was rapidly approaching.





In its center, the fortress stood as the blighted crown jewel of a rusted out, degenerate trash heap - reaching upward as if attempting to escape its own filth. The city was scored with long alleyways, narrow streets lined with crumbling buildings.

The Night Herald wrinkled his nose as the convoy lowered altitude, enough to buzz the buildings as they race past. Enough that he could already smell the trashcan fires which would dot the landscape with orange as night fell.

"All wings report in," he said over the comm. It was time. The fortress was ahead.

"Chaos 11 standing b-" the subsequent incoming transmission was cut off as the gunship beside Haretisch's shuttle was blown into a thousand glowing splinters, struck on the nose by a rocket propelled grenade fired from a rooftop.

"What in the nine Corellian hells-" Haretisch's words were similarly clipped as another rocket spiraled through the air, this time striking his own shuttle. The ship caved in from one side and jerked crazily, veering left and rebounding off of a burned out husk of a building, spinning and spiraling blindly, cockpit lights flashing in and then out of sequence before it slammed screaming into the street and seemed to never stop skidding. When finally it came to rest, the Night Herald came all at once back to himself, having been fully conscious through the crash but wholly detached from his own body apart from his eyes which had seen every snarling detail and burned them irreversibly into his memory.

He found himself laying flat against the shuttle's roof, and reached up to check the pilot who was within arm's reach. The pilot was dead. Giving no similar thoughts to Cruor whom he knew could easily survive and even rend the ship's crumpled husk if there was a need, Haretisch made himself small and squeezed through the one busted window from which he could see light, rolling onto his back as he met the scarred surface of the street. Over the ringing in his ears he could faintly hear shouts in the distance, and by instinct found a lightsaber ignited and in his hand, deflecting a trio of blaster bolts aimed his way.

Lumbering to his hands and knees, he looked up to see a pair of armored miscreants a distance away toting blaster rifles. Extending a hand, he made quick work as his grip found them within the force and crushed each into a quivering pile of meat and bones.

"Alva," he croaked into the comm so that all could hear, and fought to his feet. "Turn every building in the transports' path to rubble. They're on the rooftops. I don't care about collateral damage. I don't care about Thrawn's magnanimous rule. They're in our way. Kwea, Invadator, strafe the west towers and draw the fire away. They'll will be in range soon."

Finishing, he shook the cobwebs from his head and looked around. A long highway stretched out in front of him in the direction of the plaza, with tall buildings on either side. And a mob of Regulators were swarming up the highway, shoulder to shoulder, with melee weapons in hand.

"Cruor," he called, "I need a path cleared."

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

~

IC: Darth Kralkus -- Arena, Citadel, Sanctorium, New Moraband

"I fear the torture of my people, of my clan, of my culture."

"Failure. I fear failure."

"I fear loss... not loss of my life or the loss of a contest, but loss of what I love. However... what I loves has already been lost and now I have nothing left to loose asside from my life. I've given up fearing the loss of that long ago. If anything... perhaps I fear I will never find what I once had... and worse yet, I fear what may happen if I do."

Each man spoke, and a low, pondering groan issued forth from Kralkus' throat. His eyes grew heavy-lidded, his head tilting back as he reached out with both hand and mind. In Xel Saxon he saw both fear and pride. In Xauder Dhoj he felt the invisible pangs of inner trauma. And in Psycho he felt loss. Each had revealed something, and yet had held something back.

"All very different are your fears. Very different... and yet the same," Kralkus spoke. "But all from the same place, do they come. Fear of death? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Fear of defeat? Yes. Master these fears you must, feed them you must, keep them alive. Let them make you STRONG," he laughed evilly, and reached again into each mind, grasping with clawed fingers at the fibers of mental barriers and snapping them like flimsiplast. All at once, every visceral fear would come careening to the surface. Fear of death. Of defeat. Of pain, loss, failure, insignificance, of every manner of bad thing.

With a rustle, three trap doors opened at the end of the arena opposite the trio, and from each a platform raised to the surface. Upon each, a Terentatek was crouched, terrible and ravenous. And upon each of the men did a beast charge, poised to bite and claw and slash them to pieces. There was no time to think, only to act. Perhaps enough time to get out of the way, or be crushed beneath the creatures' hooves.

TAG: Jax Nova, Captain Owen, SkooterDawg[/i]

 

IC: Darth Alva
Soaring above Boneyard

All ships flew in formation as Boneyard appeared on the horizon. Alva reached up for a switch positioned to the top of his fighter's control pad.

With a 'flick' one of the display screens gave a framed diagram of the city. Several markers bleeped on screen showing and targeting weak points of buildings and possible gunner turret locations, he studied the markers and any flight patterns he could take.

"All ships report in" Alva heard his master's voice over the comm link. "Chaos 11 standing b-" Alva heard a voice report in followed by static. His fighter shook from the explosion of a shuttle in Alva's 5 o'clock position. A warning alarm from his fighter went off as they were now under attack from hostiles on rooftops armed with rpg's. Alva broke formation as more rockets were fired in their direction, another explosion followed. The Night Herald's transport was the next shuttle to be shot down, it descended from the air colliding into wore and hollowed out buildings until it finally crash landed to the ground.

Another faster paced warning went off indicating more rockets soaring straight for Alva. The targeting system reacted, to which Alva would lined up his ship to their path. A green signal was given from the targeting computer.

Pulling the triggers on his joysticks, the cannons on his fighter rapidly pulsated as the lasers shot forth making contact with the rockets causing them to burst mid-air.

His master's voice came back on the comm-link "Alva...Turn every building in the transports' path to rubble. They're on the rooftops. I don't care about collateral damage. I don't care about Thrawn's magnanimous rule. They're in our way. Kwea, Invadator, strafe the west towers and draw the fire away. They'll will be in range soon."


"Affirmative master" said Alva pressing the his comm-link to his ear. He barrel rolled downward, veering away from several more rockets that were fired at him. Now in range of their attackers, Alva would show no mercy on anyone in his path, he again fired off his cannons. The impact from his shots triggered explosions as bodies were thrown and catapulted from the building tops.

There was mass hysteria in the streets as Alva flow low firing shot after shot into the crowds and structures nearby.

Alva pulled up then veered around to make a second fly-by assault. Smoke and the red glow of fire could be seen from above as another stream of laser shots came hurling down on bystanders and enemies of the Sith alike.

Alva glanced down to his scanner display screen, three readings were shown coming in from the east.

"Kwea, Invadator heads up! We've got enemy air support in bound! he said over the comm-links. He halted his assault and flew in the direction the enemy fighters were coming from. Coming in hot were several Droid Tri-Fighters.

They scrambled from their flight pattern and zoomed in to engage in a dogfight, Alva spiraled clockwise to avoid their fire. He made a hard right to lead them away from the remaining transport shuttles. Luckily Alva's fighter could outmaneuver the droids as they made a struggling attempt to lock on and shoot him down. He crossed weaved in and out of their fire then looped back to perform a 'vertical rolling scissors' flight maneuver. In the final cross the closest droid overshoot Alva, creating an opening for him to get behind the first pursuer.

Alva locked on and shot the droid out of the air leaving two tri-fighters in pursuit. The droids continued to fire at Alva as he flew his way back towards Boneyard. "Your machines will not best the dark side" he muttered while flying in between narrow building openings. He would weave and bob smoothly while the droids clucked and ricocheted off building sides until they both slammed into each and crashed downward.

Once the droids were off his tail Alva continued to lay siege to Boneyard, taking out anyone who remotely looked like they were going to fire back.

Tag Darth_wanderguard Halle Dray Anakin.Skywalker Mikaboshi

 

IC: Reiis Invadator

Invadator guided her ship out towards Boneyard, with Alva and Kwea close by. It wasn't long before they reached the citadel -- if you could even call it that. It was a total trash heap.

She began to guide her TIE towards one of the towers, aiming to draw the fire while preserving the building as Haretisch has originally instructed. But, suddenly, a rocket hit Haretisch's ship. It shuttered, whined, and dove towards the bottom, destroying several buildings around it as it crashed to the ground. But Haretisch was still alive. He called them over the communicators. Reiis listened closely to the message, though it was very hard to hear. "Turn every building in the transports' path to rubble. They're on the rooftops. I don't care about collateral damage. I don't care about Thrawn's magnanimous rule. They're in our way. Kwea, Invadator, strafe the west towers and draw the fire away. They'll will be in range soon."

Invadator banked her ship hard towards the west and down, aiming for the towers. Then, an idea came to her. It was dangerous, and it might not work, but that was all the more reason to try it. She looked down at the citadel. Her TIE was approaching the tower rapidly. Without any notice, she nosedived toward one of the streets, avoiding the tower and its laser fire.

But just feet before her ship would have crashed, she jerked back on the controls, flipping the ship's front upward while allowing the ship to continue descending. And then it hit the street. Reiis was thrown forward as her ship grazed the ground and lurched forward, smashing her face into the steering controls. She yelled out in pain, but she managed to hang on to the controls. Her head snapped back as she brought her ship back up again. She could already taste the metallic taste of her blood, which was running down her face and soaking into her tunic. "Damn!" she hissed. Trash -- not to mention guts and a whole lot of blood -- was all over the window. Reiis leveled her ship, letting the metal scratch the street as she hit more debris and bodies. Sparks flew everywhere. She looked at a view screen that showed the area behind her ship. She would have to pull up soon, if this didn't work.

But then, just as she was going to pull up, the sparks caught. Flames arose around the fortress as all the debris caught fire. Reiis pulled her ship up. Some of the guts fell off, as did most of the trash, but there was still a considerable amount of blood. Reiis smiled to herself, despite all the blood on her ship and her face. Banking hard, she steered her ship back towards the tower. She heard Alva over the communicator.

"Kwea, Invadator heads up! We've got enemy air support in bound! Before she could even get there to help, Alva eliminated the droids. "Showoff," Reiis muttered. Her ship was fully turned towards the tower. Flames were crawling up the fortress's walls and getting close to the towers, though its defenders were still shooting.

Reiis began firing.


TAGS: Darth_wanderguard, Mikaboshi, Isley_27, Halle Dray

 

IC: Osnil

Osnil's idea had apparently been denied by silence. Upon arriving, Zalen gave a quick lesson on how Empress Bellorum was to be honored, but then began murdering the crew, two from every ten. That melted Osnil's heart, primarily because they were innocent so far as he could see, and secondarily, it was senseless murder, no, slaughter. Osnil could see that the crew were merely intimidated by their presence. A show of Force was pointless, diverting from the goal of the mission.

"Osnil, give the Captain the reigns to your pet," Zalen ordered, "the next one's yours." Not only was Zalen finding this to be sport, but she decided to make a new twist to her sick game: making everyone on the mission play along. He wanted to defy her, but it wouldn't do any good to him or anyone else. Motionless, head bowed, he considered his options.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. She never made it specific as to HOW he was to kill them. He would do as Zalen commanded; he would play her twisted game. However, he would give her no sick pleasure and no twisted satisfaction. Her victory would be empty and barren as a desert planet.

Straightening himself up, he threw his head back and walked over to his victim. He showed no emotion as he stared straight into the terrified eyes of the poor man he was to kill. With a soft whisper, he asked, "Which way do yousa nosa want to die?" The man began to stutter. Osnil threw him to the ground with slight Force Push. "Answer mesa when mesa asks yousa question!" he ordered. The man picked himself up off the floor and continued stuttering nervously. Osnil whispered, "Mesa tryen to help yousa. Tell mesa and do it loudly. Mesa nosa kill yousa dat way." He raised his voice and shouted, "Yousa nosa learn? Mesa teach yousa again!" He threw another Force Push, knocking the man down. The man pulled himself to his knees.

"Please don't kill me with your powers!" he begged tearfully. Osnil did not reply. Instead he walked back over to the Captain, snatched the blaster from his belt and fired once at the man's head. The words that left the man's lips in a whisper were, "Thank you."

He threw the blaster to the Captain's feet and silently bowed his head in shame. A smile crept over his face as he broke Zalen's victory.

Darth Cocytus QueenSabe7 Lady Belligerent @WookieRage

 

IC: Phsyco-- Arena, Citadel, Sanctorium, New Moraband

Phsyco could feel Kralkus inside his head. He didn't resist but he didn't care for the feeling either. The pain was soon overladen with fears of so many kinds. Fears that he didn't think he even had. He calmed his mind as best he could. The foremost of his fears floated to the front of his mind and mingled with that fear, like a drop of blood dissipating into water, there grew something else. Memories of walking into a small apartment flashed in his mind. There was an odd feeling when he walked through the door... and then... a boot laying on the floor. No... it wasn't just a boot. It was a foot sticking out from behind the couch. Phsyco ran over and there on the floor lay a dead body of a female Twi'Lek. Suddenly... that something else that dripped into his fears like a drop of red blood became more than a drop. It was anger, and it grew to rage as his vision became blurred with red.

Suddenly the vision faded but the red boarder around Phsyco's vision remained. He looked up as he heard sounds and he realized there was a Terentatek charging straight for him. It would seem foolish afterwards, but for now he pretended that Terentatek was the murderer of his love. The anger, the fear, the pain, of finding her dead surfaced in a surge of emotions. There was little time to do anything save try and dodge the beast. Phsyco dove, trying to go into a roll so as to come up on his feet.

Darth_wanderguard