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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Star Wars New Sith Trials III: The War of Three

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Sinrebirth , May 27, 2018.

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  1. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Soliloquy
    Falling

    The apology and knowledge was appreciated and she softly patted that floor of Sphere as a way of saying she forgave it, after all as the floor opened and she reached for the heart she knew it had earned that much. As the heart opened and came loose, so to did the ship. Like a blossom upon her armour it bloomed and spilled her into the air. It was a shock as she was not aware that she was not in space any longer. Truly technology and adaptation was a wonderful thing to behold! She would not eschew it nor fight that first moment as the fingers that had carressed the jeweled prize loose spilled from her fingers, then off another, and off another grasping hand until with a will she exerted the tug it into a remain open hand. With it firmly in clutch she tucked it securely in a . . .private place, that was well within her grasp she spun and took in her surroundings.

    Well. When curse words fail and emotion drains you know you have come to a dark place. It looked like a world the Lagubra had sucked dry, leaving bleak darkness behind and lighting the only utterances of a world that once had lived. The feeling of death and hopelessness made so much more sense now, it was a world robbed, killed, and left for dead. She could fix that, but that was not her first thought here, or rather it should not be as he coughed the freezing air that seemed to bite into her very lungs and that small exertion in the Force had been just as painful.

    Curling her limbs in she grabbed at the cloth bits ends and with a spinning flourish expanded to stretch out the cloth between every limb to catch the air and slow her decent into a controlled fall, but that would not be enough. With a will she dug into the Force, screaming the pain as she pushed back, slowing her fall, and pulling. . .pulling. . .until she brought together the eight bolts of lightning at once from every direction around and down below to connect into one large bolt into the ground she was heading toward. Blast the earth, smooth it out though it might yet burn lightly, and the boom, oh the boom how she hoped that shockwave would help her weakened state slow before tucking to roll with her last moments.

    It all came down to stubborn denial of letting reality shape her and refusal to let pain define nor form her reality. She was the shaper, she was the creator, and she was the repository.

    Unity help her, she was a heretic.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
  2. SithOverlord101

    SithOverlord101 Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Sep 1, 2018
    IC: Naed Werdna
    Location: Nirauan City Underground


    Well, taking this job might not have been the smartest decision. Muttering to himself, Werdna quickly landed in the underground of Nirauan City. Looking around for possible dangers approaching him, Werdna spotted a squad of Imperium of the Fist stormtroopers approaching him from both sides. Pulling out his E-11 Blaster Rifle, Naed quickly dispatched both squads, leaving all eighteen stormtroopers dead on the floor. Then, he heard the familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber blade igniting in the distance.

    “I wondered when a Sith Lord would be sent after me. Now, who are you?”

    @Darth_wanderguard
     
  3. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    IC: Darth Kralkus - Nirauan, Hand of Thrawn, North Tower

    Kralkus growled as the meeting fragmented, the various leaders in attendance making off to lick their wounds after the admonishment he had given them. Too many personal agendas at play, he thought. Too many the Imperator had trusted to see the bigger picture, even against his own better judgment.

    Darth Francium had scurried off quickly to apologize to the Grand Admiral, or grovel was perhaps a better word - he had taken Kralkus’ words to heart, perhaps even too quickly. How easily could the young man be manipulated, he wondered. And how dangerous if he fell under the influence of ones with less faithful motives. Aryan Graul was more or less a known quantity in that regard - Kralkus had been quietly aware of the ex-chancellor and his all-consuming sense of ambition for years in the old galaxy, even before his entanglements with the Sith. Lennox Jerod was another thing entirely. While he had never given reason to be distrusted, he was young in his position yet, and Kralkus had been open with Darth Haretisch about his misgivings where the Grand Admiral was concerned. Darth Syren was inexplicably loyal as ever - out of stubbornness if nothing else, but dependable and a workhorse nonetheless.

    But Francium... Francium was clay to be molded.

    Lennox was essentially shooing the Sith off as Kralkus arrived, offering perhaps empty promises to keep him in the loop once he had discussed things with Aryan Graul. The old master approached intending to ease whatever sting had resulted.

    “Matters more suited to your skills there are than these, Darth Francium,” he tapped at the man’s leg with his walking stick, and gestured for him to come, “and far more important.”

    The corridors on the eastern side of the North Tower were lonesomely empty in the glow of the late morning sun as the two walked. “Valuable to the war effort Storm Squadron is, as mentioned you have. But answers only to the Imperator, as does the entire I.S.I.B.”

    He hummed low in his throat, as he was wont to do when in deep thought. “A power vacuum there is, now, with Darth Haretisch gone even temporarily. A vicegrip does the Grand Admiral have on the military, and official leadership does the Prime Minister claim. But the Bureau - a dangling thread. Commanded it directly, Darth Haretisch has, but a Lieutenant Director does he employ to take the reigns if ever he is unable. A Lieutenant Director who operates outside of the purview of both Grand Admiral and Prime Minister, and whose office is a well-kept secret...” he paused, and slipped a small sheet of paper to Darth Francium. On it was the location of the I.S.I.B. Lieutenant Director’s office, separate from the Bureau’s headquarters. Both were on Kamino.

    “Go. Secure the Bureau, and see that Storm Squadron is recalled.”

    TAG: @Quinlan Vos
     
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2018
  4. LelalMekha

    LelalMekha Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Oct 29, 2012
    IC: Bron Dooku
    En route to the Hapes Cluster

    The Hapan sword rang as it swept toward Bron's head. Yet death did not ensue. Somehow, the Serennian's hand managed, almost of its own volition, to activate the lightfoil, brandish it, and interpose its humming shaft between the cruel edge of the Ni'Korish's weapon and Bron's exposed face. Was that sheer luck? Had fear lent Bron wings? At any rate, the Hapan sword was cut in two when it hit the plasmic barrier. It was indeed mere durasteel, as the young noble had hoped. The assassin blinked, losing his predatory grin. Could it be that he'd been overconfident?

    Afraid or not, Bron knew he had to exploit this window of opportunity. Then he remembered an incident when he and Dassid went on a field trip in the prairies of Kashyyyk. "Kybuck's head!" he shouted, seemingly out of the blue. Dassid, ready to momentarily set aside caution, darted from behind his master's back, and hurled himself right into the assassin's shins. The Hapan tipped over backwards, and even though he managed to lend on his padded elbows, his fall gave Bron a chance to swing down towards him. The heir of the Dooku now stood above his opponent, the tip of his lightfoil positioned directly beneath the Ni'Korish's chin.

    Being objectively better than your opponent isn't enough if you come to the fight ill prepared and overconfident, Fencing Master Vonkk had said one day. Try not to do that. And if you're lucky, maybe the enemy will.

    Bron felt proud. He'd somehow managed to disarm and pin to the ground--with Dassid's help, of course--a better fighter than him. There he stood, his hair dampened with odorless sweat, his countenance pink as a Zeltron's, and his breath a little shaky.

    "I am a Dooku by birth," he said, pausing for air. "And an Organa by heart... I know what 'true nobility' is.... and that's not you."

    Now please, please, Silfinia, he thought, find your way here. I'm not sure how long I can keep him under control on my own...

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
    Last edited: Dec 7, 2018
  5. Mostlymad

    Mostlymad Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 12, 2017
    IC: Darth Valdimar
    Aboard the Carrack

    In the dark of the hanger pressed against a cold bulkhead the Tusken listened to Ike as he presented him with his orders. Meditating for a moment, he opened himself to the Dark Side and swirled its essence into his outstretched hand. Soon the Dark Side energies coalesced into a silent, spherical eye of madness. With a mental command he pushed the eye into the hallway as an advance scout. Sighing heavily Valdimar pushed himself off the wall and moved fearlessly into the hallway steps behind the eye. Pushing the eye into the dark hallway ahead he slowly followed while calling out loudly to the pair he pursued, "Lords Saadi and Cocytus, I'm afraid your rides out of here have been... terminated!" A pregnant pause allowed his slow, methodic bootsteps to echo throughout the derelict ship. "Gentlemen, we all know why we are here, how about we come to some reasonable terms?"

    Tags: @Moonspun Dragon, @Sinrebirth, & @Darth Cocytus, @Dagobahsystem, @Silvertough, @WookieeRage (Proximity)
     
  6. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    The following is a combo post with Jerjerrod-Lennox – it has been a pleasure! :cool:


    IC: Prime Minister Aryan Graul and Grand Admiral Lennox Jerod

    Corridor, North Tower, Nirauan

    Rocking back on his heels, Aryan watched with waning interest as the Grand Admiral dealt with the impulsive Francium and his misplaced honor. It was curious how desperately the young Kiffu wanted to fit in, practically pleading with Jerod to give him a second chance to prove himself in this…conflict? The Prime Minister inwardly winced at that notion. No, it wasn’t a true conflict; it was a farce, one that would surely come to a swift end.

    And yet, for a fleeting moment, Aryan considered the benefits of molding such a mind, taking advantage of the raw potential and refining it until Francium became the perfect disciple...the ultimate weapon...

    But before he could start down a dangerous path, he forced that thought from his mind and averted his gaze from the young man. If they--if he was going to succeed, he must keep his plan all-inclusive...barring any unforeseen circumstances.

    And Syren, of course.

    It never occurred to him what would happen if she did not comply with his scheme; maybe he didn’t even want to consider that option at this juncture. It would break him...perhaps moreso than she already had when she had deliberately misled him at the Council meeting, siding with Haretisch instead of putting her complete trust in him and his abilities. He understood that what he was about to propose to Jerod was a huge risk, but it would also prove his worth and establish him as a dominating force if he could pull it off. A decisive victory – that’s what he needed right now to clean up this mess and regain favor with the people...and with his lover.

    He continued to mull over that fact, failing to notice that Jerod had dismissed Francium until the Grand Admiral motioned casually for the Prime Minister to follow him. Now that they were alone, Aryan’s expression turned grim as he started down the hall with slow, deliberate strides. His security detail followed a few paces behind them, their soft footsteps keeping time with his rapidly beating heart. The anticipation was almost unbearable, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and gravelly, barely above a murmur. “Listening to your conversation back there, I think I need to take a moment and explain what I meant by ‘rescue efforts.’ It’s imperative that we’re on the same page with this...or we both risk failure.”

    Pressing his lips together firmly, the Prime Minister turned to regard the Grand Admiral carefully. “You’re a good man, Lennox,” he continued with a hint of a smile. “I’ve admired your persistence and bravery from afar for several months now. You’ve been nothing but loyal to the Imperium and its cause, never backing down from a challenge. I feel you’re poised for great things...and I can help you.” He stopped walking and allowed the smile to fully overtake his features. “Before I go on and disclose my intentions, I want to stress the importance of this discussion. It could have lasting implications, so it must remain classified – do not utter a word to anyone. I require your full confidence on this, and I need you to trust me.”

    Aryan raised his brow and leaned forward expectantly. “Can you do that for me, Grand Admiral?”

    So what do you have planned in your bureaucratic brain…..

    Jerod respected Aryan as a politician, but like all politicians he was probably thinking more about his position than what was best for the people. He had the balls to suggest expanding into the galaxy itself but Lord Kralkus shut that down straight away. He supposed he had to get Aryan on side otherwise it could be seen as the military leading the way which would not look good in the eyes of the citizens of the Imperium.

    Was he jostling for a position of power? Or did he genuinely have the Imperium's interests at heart? Jerod didn't know but he might as well hear what he had to say.

    Out of the frying pan into the fire….

    He focused his gaze on Aryan his bright green eyes clear for him to see “You have my trust and confidence in this, this conversation will not leave this corridor. What do you have in mind?”

    Inclining his chin, Aryan studied the Grand Admiral for a long moment, his eyes sweeping over his features for any indications that he would deceive him; he found none. The man appeared genuine, and that was good enough for him. His honesty certainly served him well, but it could also be viewed as a detriment, something that Aryan could easily exploit if needed.

    Pushing that thought aside for now, the Prime Minister offered an appreciative nod and slowly led the Grand Admiral to a more private alcove by resting a hand on his shoulder, leaving his three bodyguards to serve as sentry. “We’re in a delicate position...you and I,” he began solemnly, his eyes never leaving the younger man’s face. “Teetering on the the verge of greatness, yet repressed by the enigmatic shadow of the Sith. We do not possess the ability to tap into their Force, and no doubt they take full advantage of that, viewing it as an apparent weakness that they can manipulate at will. We are nothing but pawns to them. Take the ill-fated Council meeting as an example – people died in that room because they did not trust in us...in me...to successfully see the negotiations through to their natural conclusion. They spat in the face of democracy, and we are the ones made to suffer. Tyrants, bigots…monsters. That is just a sampling of the terms I’ve seen tossed around by the Nirauan media to describe us in the past few days. We’ve lost the trust of the people, the very thing that makes or breaks us as a fledgling government. They are scared.”

    Aryan paused to take a steadying breath. “Scared of us, scared of the Sith. They are suffering the most through this whole ordeal...and they need our help. We should be focusing our efforts on rescuing them, not going out of our way to retrieve the source of their fears." He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with an intense fervor. "We need to rescue the Imperium itself from the oppression of the Sith."

    And there it is….

    Jerod widened his eyes and then narrowed them giving him a look as if the man had just gone bonkers.

    “And how do you propose we do that?” he said his voice remaining calm and steady “Need I remind you that that Lord Haretisch is hopefully still alive out there and that what you propose could be tantamount to treason. Also the fact is that we are also fighting two other factions of Sith as well, and if they see any weakness in the chain as it were they would use it to their advantage. Perhaps you are hoping that Lord's Francium and Kralkus and Lady’s Syren and Hel not notice such a thing happening”

    He shook his head “I would like to hear your proposal,” he smirked, “I know I am well versed in tactics but yours seem as suicidal as mine are sometimes.”

    “Then it sounds like we are in good company,” Aryan remarked with a brash smile, his confidence unwavering. He knew Jerod would not be so easily convinced; it was an immense undertaking, so naturally he would have questions and doubts. The fact that the Grand Admiral was even still standing here to humor the idea was a very good sign. His job was now to alleviate his skepticism and provide him with a hook.

    “First of all, the war with the other factions will not be a factor,” he said firmly, crossing over to lean casually against the wall. “The Triumvirate initiated those hostilities, and I intend to let them finish it on their own time. However, if we find ourselves in a crisis, I have established certain…connections that I could tap into to ensure that we remain neutral.” The smile, which had never fully left his face, only widened.

    “As for Kralkus and Francium,” the Prime Minister waved his hand casually as if to dismiss them. He noticeably refrained from mentioning Syren. “That’s where you come in, Grand Admiral. I need your ships, your resources...your power and strength – the might of the entire Imperium Navy. And your loyalty most of all. They can’t withstand that kind of firepower, no one can...” He trailed off, canting his head to gauge Jerod’s reaction. He had remained vague on purpose, but he knew the man was intelligent enough to pick up on his meaning. “Think of it as perfect justice. The people will rally behind our cause, and we can restore order. They will no longer have to live in fear.”

    Before the Grand Admiral could protest those actions, Aryan pushed on, stepping forward to emphasize his point; it was time to reel him in. He recalled something rather interesting he had read in the man's service file the night before, and decided to utilize it as leverage. “Your son, Lennox...your son will no longer live in fear. He will be safe. I will see to that personally.”

    How did he?

    Well of course he knew. Politicians had a way of keeping secrets but also finding leverage on others to see their way of things or to coerce them into a position. It had been the same all through the years that the Senate had been running and even without.

    And it looked as though Aryan needed him more than he needed Aryan. He had the power and resources yes but his loyalty was to Haretisch. However if Haretisch did not return there was the option that Aryan was promoting. At least without the Sith the people's fear of being subjugate would ease.

    It was a tempting thought.

    He kept his face it’s usual stoic expression through Aryan’s spiel deciding to give nothing away even though his mind was whirling with possibilities.

    “You present great opportunities,” he said finally. “I assume you do not need an answer now and that I can be given time to think about your proposal. It presents great opportunities however also there are challenges too, especially with the Sith and dealing with them when the time comes. Our loyalties are to the Imperium itself and in desperate times, great leadership is needed, we could provide that.”

    However he narrowed his eyes and his voice turned stern “However I do not like you delving into my affairs, especially my son. There are things you do not know and will never know about him. I will guarantee his safety, not you. He is my responsibility, not anyone else's to look after him.”

    Aryan’s countenance seemed to darken under the Grand Admiral’s scrutiny. Those words stung more than they should have and gave rise to his indignation, his feelings no doubt fueled by the galaxy-spanning tragedy that had claimed the life of his own son at the hands of Typhojem and the Sith. It would have been easy to give in to his desires and live vicariously through Jerod to account for that failure, but he resisted. Instead, he only spread his hands amicably to show there were no hard feelings and flashed a wry grin. “Of course,” he replied coolly. “It was not my intention to dictate how to raise your son, only that he will be safe in this new Imperium we forge together. Isn’t that all any of us would want for our children? They are our future, after all…our own flesh and blood. We are doing this for them.”

    The Prime Minister held Jerod’s gaze a moment longer before pushing away from the wall, straightening his jacket as he prepared to take his leave. “And no, I don’t require an immediate answer. Take your time, mull it over...consider our situation and where we stand. I plan to meet with the Ruling Council within the coming days to feel them out and get a basis for our plans. I don’t anticipate any issues, especially after the incident the other day, so this should be fairly quick. If I don’t hear from you by then, I’ll be in touch.”

    He moved to rejoin his security detail out in the main corridor, but paused before stepping across the threshold. “We are in the dawn of a new era, Grand Admiral,” he beamed with that perpetual smirk. “I hope to convene with you soon...and good luck with Admiral Doge.”

    TAG: @Jerjerrod-Lennox; @Darth_wanderguard
     
  7. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    Combo with Mr. Wanderguard

    IC: Syren

    Cassias Shipyards, 7th District, Nirauan Capital City

    The day had grown dull and grey, thick clouds rolling in overhead as thunder rumbled in the distance. There was a fresh, damp chill to the air and with the imminent threat of a storm, everything from the slight breeze to the undercurrents of the Force felt electrically charged. It made the hairs on the back of Syren’s neck stand on end as she made her way along the south perimeter of the massive industrial plaza, her senses hyper-tuned to her surroundings.

    There were several points of entry into the Cassias Shipyards, all of which were guarded by organics or droids, or both. The assassin was closing in on one such gate, pausing a safe distance away to scan the area. Her lithe form crouched low, peering around a support strut for the exterior wall, fingers idly tapping the comm she still wore on her wrist – the one that connected her directly to Aryan. She had forgotten it was still on her person until that moment, immediately removing her hand from the device.

    Now was not the time.

    Focusing intently on the scene at hand, she quickly determined how easy it would be for her to gain entrance, but not without making noise and rousing suspicion. Neither of those were things she wanted to deal with as they would just be added complications to an otherwise straightforward task. She would have to find a less obvious way inside. Hel had somehow, if the girl really was here…

    It would have to be a matter of right place, right time.

    In the near distance, barely close enough from where Syren was perched, the posted guard at the west entrance was arguing with his comm. The incoming transmissions would be impossible to make out, but the guard’s replies would be just intelligible.

    Another fifteen? No, come on... I don’t care. No, I literally, I don’t care, you need to get here. No! Alright look, I’ve waited on you long enough, it’s already a half hour past relief and these night shifts are killing me, I’m leaving. Well I guess the gate will just be unguarded until you get here. Ok, yeah, tell them you were 45 minutes late again. Uh huh. Kriff you buddy. Whatever. Bye.

    The guard quickly gathered his things and, in what seemed a matter of moments, the west entrance to the shipyards was unattended.

    Right place, right time.

    Syren had heard the voice, drawn the opposite way she had intended to go just before the guard had begun his frustrated tirade. She watched, muscles coiled, anticipating what she knew would happen next when the man simply left his post, leaving the entry unprotected. She was being shown the path, an open door, her ticket inside. The Force truly worked in mysterious ways… when you least expected it to.

    Digging the balls of her feet into the soft earth, she sprung forward the instant the guard disappeared, her eyes forward and her unseen senses pushing out in all directions to keep alert of any approaching replacements. The entry was farther than she’d like it to be, but she pushed herself, sticking as close to the wall as she could to best remain unseen. She made little noise, a whoosh in the increasing winds as she passed, the roaring cracks of thunder providing all the cover she needed.

    Syren came upon the gate full speed ahead just as it began to rain, only slowing after she made it across the threshold and gracefully slipped behind a massive row of nondescript cargo pods. She was provided enough cover as she reoriented herself quickly, her mind already working out all the possible places Hel could be hiding.

    It would ultimately be her instincts however, that led her in the right direction. With a tingle and a tug, her gaze would be directed almost against her will to a light freighter across the way. The ramp was down, and a young woman was walking upward into the cargo hold, seeming to be doing a pre-flight check. Black of hair and outfitted in a worn flightsuit, she was familiar but different. In disguise.

    Syren smiled as her eyes found the mysterious figure, honing in on the distinctly female form as she progressed up the ship's ramp. There was no trademark red hair but it would be smart to assume Hel would be in disguise if she were out in the open, a wig and dated attire being nothing too difficult to obtain. Still, the assassin reached towards the other with her senses, probing for a signature and searching for any familiarity.

    She felt a strong association, nothing concrete but it was there. Seeing as she hadn't spent much time with Haretisch's daughter, it would have to be enough for her to go on.

    Hesitating only a moment before stepping away from her cover, Syren briefly considered that everything had seemed easy. Too easy, perhaps. But noting that the young woman appeared to be preparing to leave the city - to rescue a parent held captive? - she couldn't afford to dawdle. So, taking a sweep of the immediate area and not picking up on any obvious threats close by, she began to swiftly make her way across a couple empty landing pads to the only occupied one.

    "Running away?" she called up the ramp and into the hold as she approached. She remained vigilant but kept her tone light, conversational. "Or running towards something... someone?"

    TAGS: @Darth_wanderguard ( @Lady Belligerent )
     
  8. DarthIshyZ

    DarthIshyZ Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Jan 8, 2005
    IC: Darth Serapis (along with Sinrebirth as Ossery and Rustici)
    En route to the planet Bedlam

    Serapis had had just about enough of this attitude. He turned to Rustici. "Firstly, your pessimism isn't working. It just makes you give up easier. Secondly, we will survive this. Believe it and it will happen. Finally, obviously you know something about this place. It's messing with my abilities. Tell me what you know."

    Rustici shook his head. ‘I don’t know anything.’ He grinned sardonically. ‘I’ve been trussed up and interrogated since you rummaged around in here.’ He pointed a finger at his forehead, and circled it. ‘You’d have about as much luck asking me about my wife’s name at present.’

    ‘I heard a rumour on the bridge,’ Ossery said, floating towards them amid the wreckage. ‘It’s a world in the Mid Rim, called Bedlam. All I could find out about it was that it’s a world with a mental asylum there.’

    He paused, and Rustici snapped. ‘And the rest of it, kid.’

    ‘That’s the thing. The Supreme Leader’s instructions arrived after High Lord Kronos went AWOL, and, with a bit of wandering around the grid, they even arrived after the Supreme Leader jumped to the Hapes Cluster to chase down High Lord Kronos.’

    Ossery fished in a pocket, Rustici grabbing his wrist. The bridge officer removed his hand, holding a datapad with a cracked screen. Rustici let go; ‘sorry,’ he muttered, bloodshot eyes slightly frenzied.

    The box turned again, and gravity equalised; their stomachs felt like they were rising, and then settled. Ossery steadied himself, but Rustici pivoted away and threw up, at least managing to send most of it back into his cell.

    Ossery grit his teeth and showed Serapis the datapad. ‘Look, here.’ The screen was cracked but clear. ‘Bedlam is on a straight line from Kril’dor, assuming you don’t stop in the Hapan Cluster - which you kinda have to, what with all the planets and so on.’ A handful of other worlds lit up on the golden imaginary line; Kavan, in the Hapan system, and Roqoo depot, on the edge of the Cluster. Beyond Bedlam the line ran as far as Ossus, and came to an end; blocked by the Cron Drift. ‘We’re here, at Bedlam. I can’t see the Supreme Leader stopping just to divert us here and, well, dump you.’

    A realisation seemed to hit Ossery. ‘Am I here because I saw the orders to drop you on Bedlam, High Lord Serapis?’

    Serapis was looking at the proffered datapad when the last question was posed. "It's... " he looked at Ossery and thought, "It's possible. But, we're getting off this planet. We're landed. We can breathe, obviously."

    He paced back and forth as he thought. "If there's an asylum, there's shelter, and food, and some way to get the food and the prisoners here. That means a ship. We're going to that asylum." He looked back and forth between his two companions." Rustici, you're senior, but you're incapacitated. Ossery, you're in charge. Get us there."

    Ossery saluted. ‘Of course, High Lord Serapis.’ He helped Rustici up, and headed to the edge of their box-vault, which had, indeed, slammed into the ground but not in a deafening manner; the wind currents had seemingly slowed it down, perhaps a touch of a tractor beam.

    They encountered other crew caught in the excision of their vault, dead, but armed. Three blasters were thus added to their repertoire, and two more comlinks, one for Rustici and one a spare, for Ossery and Serapis would already have one a piece. Not much in the way of provisions were found, but they did find a functioning terminal, which allowed them to pinpoint the closest structure - the asylum, presumably. However the system ominously shutdown with a warning of severe weather conditions, and tectonic activity.

    Wind began to whip through the access, but in the Force the polluting presence joined the freezing gale. Coming to the closest thing they had to an exit; a blast-burned bulkhead that was bent and damaged from the fall. Ossery pointed to the metal, a rip through it that was not wide enough to pass through but a good start, he shouted over the gale. ‘If you would, High Lord?’

    The Ithorian squeezed pulled his lightsaber and switched it on. The pollution in the Force made it sputter and spark, but the blade did form enough to cut through. After opening it wide enough for the group to get through, Serapis moved out into the foreign world.

    The terrain was rocky. Hard and sharp enough that anyone falling would likely cut their hands quite badly. The sky quite dark, but it didn't appear to be nighttime. There was a sun in the sky, but it was small and didn't appear to shine much light. There were shapes moving through the gloom, but there was no way to know if they were native fauna or... something else.

    After walking for a short way with the two officers following, Serapis realized he needed something to cover his mouth. He stopped, pulled the knife from his boot and sliced three long piece of material from his robe. He offered one to each of his companions and tied his around his head to cover his twin mouths. He suggested to Ossery, "With that storm coming, we should move double time, don't you think?" With that, he headed in the direction of the structure.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth
     
  9. Darth Cocytus

    Darth Cocytus Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 8, 2016
    Darth Cocytus

    Cocytus smirked thinly as he heard Sidious's soothing voice in his head. Yes. Kamino, his home planet in a parallel universe. Not only will the ocean world serve as a place to truly resurrect his master... It may in fact prove to be the perfect stronghold and base of operations in their war against the False Sith. All they need are the artifacts...

    The kaminoan's eyes shifted, however, when Valdimar arrived, catching up with them. Cocytus stared at the unwanted foe with eyes Void of all emotion save for hate and contempt. "What reasonable terms can we come to, False Sith?" He sneered softly and coldly, gripping a lightsaber in his three fingered hand as he turned around, "You are an enemy of the Order and like the rest shall be exterminated by Darth Saadi and myself..."

    Cocytus stepped forward and stared down at Valdimar with black eyes that glowed with yellow orbs as if in empty sockets. "Only two there can be, no more, no less..." he continues blatantly, "Nonetheless, what can you offer us for our cause?"

    @Sinrebirth, @Dagobahsystem, @Mostlymad



    Sent from my SM-J327V using Tapatalk
     
    Last edited: Dec 7, 2018
  10. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Azeth Drost
    Carrack Infiltration

    Azeth watched the Doctor's inner turmoil with mounting curiosity. It was clear that the pair's current mission was atypical to what Dr. Na was used to, and that delighted the young Sith in more ways than one. If nothing else, the Miraluka could feed off that anxiety, boosting his own fortitude, if need be.

    "Splitting up has both benefits and downsides.. We could certainly cover more ground that way.. But if you run into trouble, I won't be able to protect you.." Azeth paused, sensing yet another dark side user arrive on the ship, another force user to hide from. Another potential threat.

    Dr. Na raised an eyebrow, surprised at the Sith's apparent benevolence.

    Focusing back on the current situation, Azeth continued. "Make no mistake Doctor, our relationship continues only as long as your specialty is useful to my needs." Azeth brought his covered face inches from the Doctor's. "And I need someone to pilot the ship."

    Azeth handed the Doctor two thermal detonators, as well as a number of proton grenades and their linked detonator. "Move towards the vault, placing these along any load bearing structures you find, specifically bulkheads. I will make my way back to you in short order.." The Miraluka tapped the Doctor's shoulder with his fist. "Keep to the shadows, and make haste."

    With that said, Azeth turned to face the indicated ventilation shaft. It was to small to effectively crawl through. That being said, he wasn't quite sure why the vent would make a decent target. If the air systems of the ship were damaged too early, any hope of stealing the vault would be for naught. Azeth was quite fond of breathing..

    With a shrug, he planted two of the proton bombs along the bulkhead which entered into the bridge, linked them to a detonator with a soft electronic whine. Pleased with his handiwork, Azeth popped open the ventilation shaft's grating, and tossed in his last proton grenade. Through the aid of the force, the grenade was able to land much farther inside than would have been possible without, and attached itself to one of the shaft's inner walls.

    The bombs placed, Azeth surrounded himself once again with a force barrier, effectively cloaking himself from the multitude of force users present on the rapidly failing Carrack. Unless someone was actively searching for him, the Miraluka was a ghost in the wind..


    Tag: @Sinrebirth
     
  11. Quinlan Vos

    Quinlan Vos Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Oct 24, 2017
    IC: Darth Francium
    En Route to Kamino

    Francium took the paper from the diminutive yet powerful Sith Lord. "I will not fail you," he said as he began briskly walking away, heading for the nearest transport terminal. He was glad that the Sith had approved of his plan, yet he still felt as though he was out of place. He didn't have the slightest clue what to do in these and what was proper etiquette in these political meetings. He needed someone to teach him these things if he was ever going to be successful in his role, yet he knew he would never enjoy it, rather purely understand it.

    As he reached the nearest transit station, he quickly moved through the crowded terminal and hopped aboard the first transport vessel to the hangar where he had left Chaos company. The ride was uneventful, yet seeing as it was only his second time on Niruaun, it was exciting to view all the infrastructure and beauty of the City.

    Before long, his transport reached the hanger, and he strolled out, heading straight for Birdy and Fingers, clearly distinguishable in the crowd due to their heavy armor and the outbursts being put on display over their card game.

    As he reached them, he commanded them to come with him. "We are heading to Kamino, just the three of us. The rest of Chaos can stay here and relax until they are needed once again."

    He shuffled away, sure the two were right on his heels, moving towards the nearest light cruiser.

    -----

    It wasn't but a few hours later that the ship fell out of hyperspace, and the aquatic world of Kamino filled the viewport. Birdy quickly radioed in a landing request to the closet terminal, and after a short wait they were approved to descend.

    As the vessel touched down on their landing pad, the young Kiffu moved to the exit and quickly turned down the pathway, heading towards the second of the two addresses given to him by Lord Kralkus, the one which was said the be the Director's office. As he gathered his bearings, he quickly walked in the correct direction, Birdy and Fingers hot on his tail...

    Tags: @Darth_wanderguard
     
  12. Kaleesh-Cyborg

    Kaleesh-Cyborg Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 4, 2017
    Combo with Snokers
    Taking out the trash...

    How had Darth Anark - High Lord Darth Anark - been relegated to a trash man?


    He had registered the narrowing of Bellorum’s eyes when she'd told him to take away the crate that contained The General and dispose of his metal husk of a body down the garbage chute.


    Bo hadn’t even attempted to suggest someone else for the job. Anark could have sworn he even saw a grin tug at the corners of his brother’s lips. The voices have been lamenting recently, blithering in about how he should have eaten his twin in the womb.


    But that’s neither here nor there now.


    Anark has been pushing the hover cart for some time now. He’s been following the facilities vague signs down a maze seemingly endless corridors, asking passing facility workers for directions. He’s been muttering to himself the whole way, hissing and spitting, even stopping once for a Huttese slanging match with a facet of his own psyche.


    Ah!


    W A S T E D I S P O S A L
    He begins to calm himself when he notices the sign he's been looking for. He whistles merrily as he directs the cart through the sliding doors. Anark secures the end of the crate to the top of the chute and snaps it free from the cart's magnetic mechanisms. He wanders across to the closest console and runs a finger across the top of the keys. He follows a set of instructions on the wall and the crate makes a clicking sound. A red light appears at the top of the trash compactor chute. Anark keys in the code for the length of the compaction sequence. He chooses the two hour option. He want's Haretisch's pet to suffer and be allowed to contemplate his doom for a while before he's obliterated.

    Take a peak

    He chuckles at the suggestion.

    "You've all gone mad," he says aloud, giggling.

    Throw him in bodily! The box might impede the squashing!

    "Shut up!"

    But he takes a moment to ponder, pacing back and forth as he thinks.

    Twilight Sun, the swanky wretch's, splash their credits around everywhere. Only the best!

    That crate is likely made of the toughest of durasteel.

    He grunts and tugs at his matted hair.

    Anark hurries over to the crate and slams a fist down on the release. The surface of the box begins to life. Vexx will still be deactivated. He will probably be heavy. This is going to take some heaving.

    Vexx continues his work on the hinges of the shipping crate. Heat it up; shove it. Heat it up; shove it. Tediously repetitious if ever there was such a task. It wouldn’t be quite so tedious if he didn’t have to worry about subtleties. He can hear Anark outside of his prison, asking for directions, muttering, exchanging curses with another of a different language. Vexx growls softly in annoyance. What a knucklehead this trash transporter is.

    Next he hears the aforementioned knucklehead whistling away, the hiss of sliding doors retracting. The cart stops. They must have reached his designated death chamber. Vexx draws a slow and deliberate breath through his respirator. Time to settle back to war. It looks like his efforts to break out of the crate have merely been to pass the time. He mutters something bitterly in Kaleesh as he realizes he never really had to go to the trouble of flipping himself around after all.

    But then again, there could be benefits to facing the end that will be opened. Anark has no idea what a horrible mistake it will be for him to open this box. As the high lord’s fist thumps on the crate’s release, Vexx acts accordingly. The mechanisms of the crate release the door, revealing that it has been tampered with, but the cyborg stays where he is, pressed to the back of the box, posed as though he really is deactivated and helpless. Time to have a little fun.
    Let us hope you have had your Wheaties today, knucklehead.

    Anark pulls back his hood and lets his outer robes fall to the floor. He rolls up the sleeves of his under armour. He looks down at the squashed form of the Imperator’s General.

    He reaches into the crate and grips the back of Vexx’s head with one hand and what he assumes is a disassembled section of the torso with the other. The cyborg’s plating is ice cold. A river of spidery veins rise up in the Sith’s forearms. There’s not much wiggle room for his fingers between the walls of the crate and the parts he’s holding. It’s an awkward job.

    After a moment of yanking Anark let’s go and swears under his breath. He chews at the inside of his bottom lip.

    He decides to lift from a different angle. The General, after all, isn’t exactly frail. And if he does break him it saves the facility some power on a trash compactor cycle.

    Anark finds Vexx’s head and places his palms around both steely cheeks, securing his fingers in a crevice where he assumes the Kaleesh’s audio receptors are.

    He pulls.

    Vexx stifles the urge to growl as Anark’s face fills the opening of the crate. He has to give the appearance of helplessness in spite of his impulse to attack on sight. Timing is everything. Never mind the fact that this is somewhat humiliating, lying awkwardly inside a crate that is too small like a deactivated droid.

    This one either assumes I am constructed of featherweight material or he really has faith in his Wheaties, Vexx thinks to himself as Anark makes a good attempt to haul his heavy metal carcass out of the crate. He will let the high lord struggle for a while. If he weren’t so annoyed with being touched by unwelcome hands, this might actually be entertaining.

    Finally, when Anark compromises his own position in an attempt once more to pull him out, the cyborg takes full advantage of the his unpreparedness and springs, powerful hydraulics in his legs propelling him upward as though he’s been shot out of a cannon. Unless Anark is quick to move back and let go, he will be dragged along for the ride; maybe get his face head-butted in the process. Or he might just get his arms yanked from their sockets. Either way, if he holds on, it could end badly for him.


    The Sith drops the Kaleesh’s head as though it has scalded him. The unexpected spring to life has shaken his nerves. He stumbles backward and holds up his left hand.

    For a moment Anark doubts whether he’ll even be able to summon his lightsaber with the Ysalamir still somewhere in the facility. But alas, the hilt unclips from his belt and flies faithfully into his palm. He ignites a crimson blade and wastes no time in taking a swing at the very much alive war general.

    His movement is not as steady or precise as it usually is due to being violently short-circuited and stuffed in a cramped box for an extended period of time, but Vexx is fast. And observant. The fact that Anark is able to call his lightsaber to his hand tells him that he should have access to the Force as well, but he doesn’t test it. Not yet. He doesn’t need to. He will make due with his battle-forged skill for now.

    He permits the high lord’s blade to strike him, but in a place he knows can withstand a blow from the plasma energy. There is nothing more than a burn mark scored across his shoulders as he takes the punishment. After his encounter with the Embrace of Pain, this is little more than an irritation. He then ignites two of his own blades, one stark white, the other crimson as blood. Balancing himself on the edge of the compactor, he watches Anark like a bird of prey. As is customary to his combat style, he will wait for his opponent to attack again—sometimes repeatedly—until he senses the perfect moment for the counter strike to tip the balance of the fight.


    “B...k off if ...ou ...ow wh...s ...ood...or ...ou,” he rasps, his voice barely decipherable amid the now-faulty electronics that once enabled him to speak. He makes a Makashi flourish as though to say he means business.

    Tag: @Snokers @Lady Belligerent
     
  13. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    GM UPDATE 1 OF 3

    IC: Birdy & FingersTimira City, Kamino

    “You know this is where the first Stormtroopers were cloned,” Fingers offered as he and Birdy followed close behind Darth Francium.

    “I thought the first Stormtroopers were volunteers,” Birdy responded. The streets of Timira City, or at least the closest thing the city had to streets, were almost empty. And ghostly quiet. The conversation the two were having might as well have been a shouting match in a library for how out of place it was. “We should keep it down by the way. This place is so quiet... gives me the creeps.

    “Nah,” Fingers continued obliviously. “The first Stormtroopers were actually Clone Troopers cloned here on Kamino, and fought against the separatists.”

    “Uh, Fingers... let’s keep it down,” Birdy insisted. In the distance, through the haze of heavy rainfall across an open gangway, was a large domed building - the headquarters of the Internal Sith Intelligence Bureau.

    “That’s not where we’re going though, is it?” Fingers asked, a bit more quietly.

    “Nope, there,” Birdy pointed to a larger platform off to the left, covered by smaller domed buildings - one of which was the office of the Lieutenant Director.

    TAG: @Quinlan Vos

    —————-

    IC: UnknownNirauan Sewer

    “I wondered when a Sith Lord would be sent after me. Now, who are you?” the bounty hunter asked.

    “I’m not a Sith,” a smooth, young voice replied. The face of a young man with long, dark hair was illuminated by the red glow of the lightsaber he held. “And no one sent me after you. In fact, I thought those Stormtroopers were after me.”

    He disengaged the lightsaber, sensing no threat now from Naed Werdna - on the contrary, he thought the two might end up being one another’s salvation. “I’m an um...” he paused, considering how honest he should be. “An acolyte. And who are you?”

    TAG: @SithOverlord101

    ————-

    IC: Darth KralkusHand of Thrawn, North Tower, Nirauan

    Whether it be minutes or hours after the end of the conference, when Aryan Graul returned to his office, he would find a very suspicious Darth Kralkus waiting. The old master’s gaze was piercing as he sat perched on the Prime Minister’s desktop, but all the same he betrayed nothing of what he knew or did not know.

    “Hrrm. Much to do, is there not? Prime minister?”

    With a force assisted hop, Kralkus somersaulted and landed flat footed on the floor, approaching Aryan, walking stick clacking with every step.

    In truth, he had no idea what Aryan had discussed with Jerod. It could have all been perfectly on the level for all he knew. But he also knew Aryan Graul’s nature - brash, ambitious, and entirely lacking in scruples where his own opportunities to gain something were concerned. And so Darth Kralkus would trust a dishonest man to be dishonest, and offer a bluff to hopefully shake his confidence if he were indeed up to something.

    “Productive were your discussions with the Grand Admiral, I trust?” he asked.

    TAG: @HanSolo29

    OOC: Lennox, you’re on a combo this week so PM or message me with your starter.
     
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 9, 2018
  14. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    2 of 3

    IC: Dr Shadow

    Bedlam

    His collection was nearly complete, and the last handful of pieces were making their way towards them. Serapis had landed, with a pair of First Order recruits for company. And Soliloquy was falling, falling, falling...

    ... and then the made-thing grabbed at the lightning clawing it’s way across the surface of this black, black world, and hurtled it at the ground. It impacted, sending a shockwave up. It would buffet the vault-box-tomb of Serapis, Ossery, and injured Rustici, and soften the impact of Soliloquy into the ground.

    How ingenious. The made-thing would hit not a few dozen meters in-front of Serapis and his team, an all together heavier landing than Serapis - who had been wrapped in his durasteel box when his crew had hit the ground. Ossery would peer through the briefly-empty area, weather wise, and shout out as the rain came crashing back down. ‘It’s High Lord Soliloquy!’ He rushed over, a recovered medpack to hand, tipping over the edge of the small crater that Soliloquy had blown in the ground, which was already filling with water. Ossery skid down, his uniform being marred with mud. ‘My Lord!’

    Dr Shadow absently wondered, and peered. Sphere was heading to the asylum, lighting the path for them with its engine glow briefly, but still a useful foothold from which to strike from. A wicked grin occurred. Well it is an asylum...

    He drove a mind shard into the Ithorian’s mind; not intending to kill him, but to drive a mental blade between the recently healed seam in the mind of Serapis; driving a gap between himself and the personality he had cultivated while in solitary confinement. Then he turned to smother Serapis’s own persona, and allow the new one to seize control of his body... and then let go, allowing the new persona to flood through Serapis’s mind, only to allow Serapis to allow him to rise up to oppose it.

    He essentially split Serapis’s mind in two with a soft cackle. Rustici turned, frowning. ‘Did you hear that, my Lord?’

    —-
    Aboard the Surronian conquerer, but also aboard the personal ship of the late Dr Cerise

    A confrontation won, a moment, forestalled.

    Bron Dooku had their foe beaten, with only a small amount of help from Dassid. The Ni’Korish hissed. ‘House Dooku and House Organa?‘ He clutched his hand to his chest, as if wounded. Dassid was poised to cheer, but he opted to attempt to undo the room door. When opened, however, Silfinia was missing.

    ‘I’m confused,’ admitted the droid.

    The ship suddenly rocked, however, with a new connection, tilting Bron back. In that moment, the assassin scrabbled to his feet and reached for his blaster, firing an ill-aimed shot at Bron as he ran not towards the cockpit but to the rear of the ship. Dassid rushed to a display. ‘Someone has docked with us!’

    The ship reported the airlock has cycled before another moment passed, and just as dramatically the assassin came tumbling back into the main area, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. The man responsible swept into the room, black robes flowing, the large hood down around his shoulders. The tall newcomer had a bald head with tattoo stripes running across his unnaturally red eyes, a countenance that was truly fearful, and only accentuated by then cragged scar running between his eyes.

    His eyes scanned Dassid and Bron, and then looked up to the ceiling. All of a sudden, a grate fell from the ceiling and Silfinia leapt down, landing lightly and raising a fist to the newcomers face, launching the punch quickly. The dark man raised a hand to ward it of, but his palm seemed to move away rather than closer, and her fist connected, sending the newcomer flying, slamming into and over the kitchen woeful. Standing up, impossibly showing any of the punch he just sustained, he snarled, and she lifted her blaster, shouting -

    ‘Dooku, down!’

    His large eyes showed confusion, searching out Bron, and she fired, but he impossibly snatched the bolt out of the air, closing his palm around the shot. ‘Brie, what are you doing?’

    She started, and turned her blaster away. ‘Do I know you?’ Her voice was subtly different. More confident, more curious, her eyes calming. Silfinia lowered the blaster. Her free hand seemed to hover over her thigh, and he shook his head.

    ‘There’s no need for that -‘

    Suddenly the ship shook again, and the newcomer looked surprised. ‘He’s left me?‘ A comlink appeared in his hand. ‘Kronos, what are you doing?’

    A woman’s voice replied. ‘Cassian is not yours anymore, Aden.’ She placed a strange emphasis on their names. ‘You’d be best to remember that. We’ll leave you and your friends alone if you leave us. We’ll even pass you some cartographical data if your word is good.’

    Esmerelda, wait. It’s not safe; whoever is playing with your fates is dangerous enough to turn all of us into playthings. It’s bigger than your children -‘

    ‘Good bye, Aden. Don’t follow us. Or else.’

    While this interplay occurred, Dassid found a ghost of a memory tickle across his files, and began working through screens of memories and structures and scanned information. He had seen that facial structure somewhere else before. He did so even as he slinked off to the cockpit.

    ‘Aden’ hissed as they cut off. ‘I’m sorry to impose upon you and... Dooku,’ the man said, possibly reading the narrowing of Silfinia’s eyes. ‘It’s a matter of the fate of the very Force itself that we follow my wayward, um, colleague.’

    Silfinia looked over. ‘You’re the royal, Bron. We do have an appointment with the Hapan court to keep...’

    ‘... Hapes is about to fall under siege by a Imperial Warlord Fleet... it’s about as unsafe as where I need to go.’

    Silfinia pursed her lips. ‘I need to speak to Bron, alone.’

    Aden stepped forward, his hand dangerously poised to reach into his robe. ‘I can’t allow that.’

    Her hand rested on her thigh, and Silfinia sneered. ‘Do you think you can stop me?’

    Stalemate.

    Dassid decided to remove the scar from his sensor sweep, reasoning in an altogether lateral process that the injury was unlikely appear data across thousands of years from how... raw it looked, and it suddenly clicked into place where he had seen it before.

    He would have sharply in-taken air in surprise if he could.

    That was the face of the Son of Mortis.

    Aboard Dr Cerise’s ship, Esmerelda released a sigh of relief as they reached the jump point. In a mere moment, they were gone. She looked at Cassian. With a deep, weak, smile, she took her mans hand. ‘Can we catch up?’

    Esmerelda kissed him, hard, and full, a kiss of love and sadness and hope and the pressure crushing her to keep going.

    The computer silently spat out the name of the world they were heading to.

    Bedlam.

    The information was recorded by Hapan scouts, and made its way to the Twilight Sun, to Queen Mother Ni’Korish, and to Empress Bellorum, who would shortly receive the report of her Daughter, Merel, confirming that Kronos and Esmerelda and Darth Insipid had fled from their confrontation aboard the selfsame ship now jumping to the world of Dr Shadow and the unholy ritual that he was attempting.

    —-
    Carrack engagement

    The bridge crew milled around braggart captain, as he received the Grand Vizier Ike’’s hologram - it was larger than life. ‘Captain, you have done well to secure the two Sith, but what of the shuttle atop the bridge? Is that an escape ship? I do not recall authorising such a thing - the bridge has its own engines...’

    ‘Grand Vizier Ike?A shuttle?’ The captain wheeled. ‘Are sensors down? Find out! Send a crew up to the top hatch!’

    ‘No need,’ said the Vizier. ‘Seal off the upper levels of the bridge, vacuum tight.’ A smirk. ‘You have five minutes.’

    ‘Captain!’ A crew member shouted out! We’ve caught one.’ Sure enough, as Drost watched, Dr Na, looking relatively trussed up, was dragged in. ‘He’s unarmed, sir.’

    The crew numbered seven, including the braggart captain. They all had sidearms, but not much to speak of.

    However, in the vault itself, the fight was to start. Silent Arach and Saadi, in one part, and then the snarling back and forth of Cocytus and Valdimar. The Force churned with violence, eddies and flows, curdling into more darkness.

    The Sidious spirit attached to Cocytus seemed to peer into Valdimar. A Tusken. How quaint.

    Kill him; kill him now.

    @WookieeRage, @Darth Kronos (missed tag; new tag), @Dagobahsystem, @DarthIshyZ, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough, @LelalMekha, @Mitth-Fisto, @MoonspunDragon, @Mostlymad


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     
    Last edited: Dec 9, 2018
  15. Lady_Belligerent

    Lady_Belligerent Queen of the RPF, SWC, C&P, and Pancakes & Waffles star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Jan 29, 2008
    GM Update 3 of 3

    IC: Hel

    Nirauan

    “Ugh!” Hel grimaced as she tossed a hydrospanner aside to crash into her tool box. She closed the hatch over the panel she’d been rewiring and was wiping her hands on a grimy rag when she heard a voice calling up.
    "Running away?"
    Syren. Hel leaned her head against the wall of service panels and considered her options.
    "Or running towards something... someone?"
    I could kill her, well try to kill her, Hel thought as she stood and tossed the rag aside.
    “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I were running away,” Hel shouted down the ramp to answer Syren.
    “If you’re here to kill me I’d like to get on with it,” Hel had used the Force to summon her grandfather’s lightsaber into her right hand and beckoned Syren with her left. “I’ve urgent business elsewhere.”
    Tag: @QueenSabe7
    ——
    IC: Bellorum

    She was beginning to get agitated from the noise, the equipment delays, and the bloody ysalamiri. But, the foreman working on the carbonite freezing chamber had just shouted out for the guys up at the control to do a test run.

    Bellorum scowled and snapped at the men, “there will be no test runs!” She shoved a guard towards where Bo was waiting with Haretisch, “put him in and start this thing up!”

    “So... eager... to get rid of me,” Haretisch quipped lazily, still quite sedated. “I never... kicked you out... of my bed... this quickly.”

    Bellorum stalked over and grabbed the front of his tunic pulling him close, “I’m not getting rid of you, lover.” Suddenly she released his clothing and smoothed out where she’d caused wrinkles. “Think of this as I’m keeping you with me always.”

    “Do it!” She shouted at the guards and technicians.

    “But you’ll miss access... to certain parts of me... I’m sure...” he replied, eyes still half lidded. If he had indeed lost, if he didn’t survive this, if he never woke up again, if the Imperium crumbled and the stable galaxy he had hoped to build for Hel instead went up in flames, he would still rob Bellorum of every last iota of enjoyment he possibly could. It stung him to be confronted with just how at odds they were now. This must have been what she felt at his betrayal on Mortis.

    His shoulders sagged. “If there... is any part of you... that still values... what we shared... promise me only... that you will not harm... my daughter.”

    Her breath caught and the anguished tone he spoke in was like a icy dagger piercing her gut. “I will never harm your child,” she whispered and turned away before he saw the single tear that streaked her cheek.

    She’d intended to watch, but found herself almost running to put distance between herself and Haretisch.

    Tag: @Darth_wanderguard @Snokers @Kaleesh-Cyborg
     
  16. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    Soliloquy
    Meeting the World

    It had been a good plan, a stupendously serendipitous plan with relatively few moving parts. It only failed to take into account one itsy bitsy tiny little thing. She wasn't a holocron. Small fact, not that important really, except when it was. Which was now as the lightning blossomed in her vision and the thought connected that she was not in fact a Holocron anymore, and she was in fact made of some form of flesh and blood. "Emperor's Bones!" she spat as the sonic boom hit her and washed over and around, and with nine simultaneous booms crossing over her body at the same relative time and the fact that double strike incapacitates most organics without heavy protection for a brief time. . .well her armours most impressive feature besides being alive was that it was very apparently skimpy. It had hard bits, soles of the feet, the obvious patterns and guards which amounted to covering a fair portion. The rest was thin armor that was little more than a skin protection that did wonders for thermal regulation and a soft cushion layer that didn't look to even be really there. Fantastic for appealing to baser natures no matter the weather, not so much protection from a sonic attack of your own creation.

    What all of this meant was that she was unconscious for a couple seconds. A couple seconds falling to the planet where she was supposed to be controlling and slowing her descent that she was not. As her eyes jerked open and head straightened she had a brief moment to wonder who she was looking at growing so fast, a brief tug on the poisonous Force to slow herself a hair and then a rather unceremonious belly flop into a steaming hot crater. One she had just made in the same fashion that had probably done nearly as much harm as help.

    It was all so very clear as she laid there, unable to breath. She had forgotten to roll. She was sure she had felt at least a couple ribs fracture, and if she was not mistaken something had been lacerated inside. Someone was calling her name but at the moment she fighting to try to get her body to suck in air before the rising water buried her. Actually she didn't even recognize who this was, although she like the medpack she saw he was carrying.

    A puckering, rattling breath that made her want to cough later and she at least was able to ease herself onto her back to look up at the sky and a fading light of Sphere's engine caught an eye. 'Bind.' She barely half whispered to the man with a general gesture at her chest. Hopefully he would know what she meant, cause otherwise she would be a little bit before she got the handle of moving and breathing again. Not to mention the lack of being able to properly feel the others with the Force cloying and pressing in on her as it was.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth , @DarthIshyZ , @ Others on this cursed world of wanton death we find ourselves
     
  17. AgentViper007

    AgentViper007 Force Ghost star 7

    Registered:
    Mar 9, 2005
    OOC: A combo brought to you by myself and Darth Wanderguard :)

    IC: Grand Admiral Lennox Jerod, Admiral Doge
    Location: ISD Repentance, Niraruan


    Lennox thanked Aryan and promised him we would contact him when he had an answer. As he left Nirauan and headed back to the Repentance there were numerous questions whirling around his head and also the main conundrum was what would happen if h agreed to Aryans plan and it all went to hell.

    Can’t think about that now, Admiral Doge needs to be sorted first.

    Before his shuttle took off he had asked Lieutenant Azurri to comm Doge again and ask him to meet with him on board Repentance. He decided this would need a personal touch, he could humiliate him in front of his bridge crew with a comm call but he decided this needed to be more personal.

    It seemed nothing had changed while he was on the ground, martial law was still in force and the blockade hadn't moved. Jerod agreed with Aryan on one point, this whole mess had to go.

    Lieutenant Azurri had directed the Admiral to the main conference room, Jerod arrived, straightened his jacket and strode in. He took a seat across the table from where the Admiral was seated.

    “Admiral Doge, welcome aboard” he said, his voice calm and steady “I have convened this meeting to give you a chance to explain yourself about the situation here, and why you have initiated martial law and a blockade without my permission”

    Doge swallowed, and cleared his throat before glancing down at the table. There was no good option for him here.

    “You have my full apologies, Grand Admiral,” he started, looking up from the table and adopting a more confident posture about his neck, holding his chin high in a vain attempt to mask his trepidation. “You also have my full assurances that I was acting both in the best interests of the Imperium... and not of my own accord. I was following orders, sir.”

    Lennox folded his arms across his chest the only sign of his displeasure “And who precisely gave you those orders?! He asked “As far as I am aware only myself, Lord Haretisch and even Prime Minister Graul can give those orders. And as far as I am concerned you superseded the chain of command and took matters into your own hands”

    He shook his head “It is not what the Imperium needs right now”

    Doge paused, and resisted the urge to wipe nervous beads of sweat from his brow. If he told the truth, it could endanger the entire Imperium. If he kept his secrets, he could possibly pay with his life. Perhaps prison, until such time that the Imperator returned. Surely his loyalty would be discreetly rewarded then.

    Most would have chosen the former. Doge was not most. He was a dyed in the wool Imperial who believed in Darth Haretisch’s mission, and would gladly give his life for it many times over. Resolved, he met Jerod’s gaze, and turned his chin up with conviction.

    “Grand Admiral, to share my secrets would endanger the very Imperium to which I have sworn an oath of victory or death. And if my life is forfeit... then it is forfeit.”

    Jeord seriously wanted to shake the man to tell him. But there was a point here. If the orders came from as high up as Haretisch no wonder he did not want to spill. To tell all would not only incur the wrath of Lennox but possibly of Haretisch himself.

    But why would Haretisch order such a thing? he thought unless he knew it was going to go wrong and decided to hell with it.

    And it made Jerod realise that Aryan did have a point about the Sith and the effect on the civilians of the Imperium. It was unnerving Lennox to see the Imperium falling apart and to think that a politician had made a fair point.

    He kept his arms folded and leveled him with a stare that bordered on icy.

    “May I remind you that I have taken the same oath as you” he said “I have seen many things and done many things in the name of the Imperium which I will probably regret later in life. But what I do not like is subordinates taking matters into their own hands and jeopardizing the very Imperium itself. Eventually I will find out who gave you those orders, and for the sake of your life and if you have any family you will reconsider your actions”

    “I gave my life to this Imperium too and that still stands. The Imperium and it’s citizens need to stand firm not cower in fear and oppression. And this is no way to reassure it’s citizens that we are doing what is right” he sighed “I can understand if the order came from so high up that you cannot tell me. But I am disappointed if you think I am fool enough to sanction you actions. Perhaps a stint in prison will hopefully give you time to think about things. Perhaps you will grow a conscience”

    He paused to let that sink in then continued.

    “I will also be stripping you of the rank of Admiral and will be demoted back down to Ensign when eventually I deem it good enough for you to be released. I will order the blockade and martial law rescinded immediately and you will be heading to the brig on board Repentance until we can transport you to prison.”

    He got on his comlink “Lieutenant Carrusco, please send two troopers down to escort Ensign Doge to the brig. Also find a nice prision we can transport the Ensign to, somewhere where he can dwell on his thoughts”

    “Yes sir”

    Lennox then set his gaze on Doge “I hope you understand what I have just said to you. You are dismissed”

    Doge exhaled. It was done. The troopers arrived in moments, and he met Lennox’s gaze with quiet intensity before he was led away. He understood. Jerod was doing what any decent commander would do - and yet, Doge could not help but burn with hatred.

    “My sole regret is that I have but one life and reputation to sacrifice for the Imperium,” he saluted, and the cords in his neck tightened as he was taken in hand by those he had commanded only hours prior.

    TAG: @Darth_wanderguard
     
    Sinrebirth and Mostlymad like this.
  18. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    Combo with Lady Belligerent, The Awesomest.

    IC: Hel & Syren

    Cassias Shipyards, 7th District, Nirauan Capital City

    While mildly relieved to confirm it was indeed Hel that she was facing, Syren couldn’t help a smile as she looked up, the girl brandishing a weapon with intent to use it. On her.

    Cute.

    “Oh, calm down,” she chided, almost as if speaking to a child. “And put that away.” She dismissed the other’s hostility with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “There will be no attempts on your life, at least not by me.”

    The assassin considered Hel for a moment before pressing on.

    “Would that… ‘urgent business’ be going after your father?”

    Hel’s eyes narrowed as she considered how she’d proceed. Syren, if she was being truthful, would be helpful.

    Her posture relaxed once she decided and she replaced her lightsaber at her side, “yes. So, raise the boarding ramp on your way up,” was Hel’s answer as she headed towards the flight deck of the small freighter.

    Syren took a deep breath, for patience. Kralkus had not specified anything beyond that she locate Hel. It could be assumed he meant for her to remain with the girl as her protection until Haretisch was recovered – an obvious connection she had put together before she had even set out on the hunt. So, essentially it was back to babysitting duty, and she could be certain this time would not turn out as… advantageous as things had previously with Aryan.

    She glanced over her shoulder in the direction she had come from, wondering how he was and if he was still as disappointed with her as when she had left. She supposed he would be, though of course the thoughts and feelings of the Prime Minister didn’t factor into her current situation at all, so her mind left her worry be.

    Returning her eyes forward, Syren moved up the ramp and activated the closing mechanism as she stepped into the hold after Hel.

    “So, what is your plan? If you even have one…”

    Hel stopped and turned to face Syren, “my plan is to find my father. We know where he was, and we know who he was with.” It was that simple in Hel’s mind because she refused to accept that Bellorum might have killed him.

    Syren shook her head in disapproval, prepared for the answer she had received. This girl was running headfirst into a probable trap and without a concrete plan, completely unaware of how much danger she was truly in. In an odd way, Hel reminded her of herself, or at least a former version of herself. As a result there was an even stranger urge to be protective of her – something far beyond babysitting.

    Her attachments to others were starting to get out of hand, she realized as she picked up on a sadness in the younger woman, one that hung about her like a shadow.

    “Dr. Jepsun is aboard the Arae,” Hel’s voice took on a more somber tone, “I’m picking him up on the way.” She swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, “he’s aware and waiting for me.”

    "Look, you can't just go busting in through the front door, especially you being.... well, you." Syren placed her hands on her hips, studying her companion. "You'll be expected to go after him and in fact, that's probably what your father’s enemies want you to do. You could be used as leverage. Again."

    She did not know who this ‘Jepsen’ person was but it was clear Hel cared for him to some degree, as it was abundantly clear she somehow cared for Haretisch much more. How foolish the girl was became irrelevant for the moment; she would do what she had to whether Syren was with her or not. Alone, she would surely be injured or worse, so that was not an option.

    With a heavy, resigned sigh the assassin moved past the girl and into the cockpit, taking a seat in the pilot’s chair. A wistful smile passed over her lips as she recalled a few tips Aryan had taught her while she began to initiate the pre-flight checks.

    “However, it’s possible they will not expect you to have help.”

    Hel stood silent a moment and did her best to swallow the sarcastic retorts that she really wanted to throw at Syren.

    After dropping into the copilots seat she muttered, “thanks.” She spoke while staring down at the controls, “Father told me to stay away from the fleet, so I messaged Cal over a secret channel he and my father use.”

    Her youth showed when she finally looked at Syren and continued, “I’m supposed to be in hiding, but I can’t just sit around when I know he needs help.”

    “Well you weren’t doing that great of a job hiding anyways,” Syren interjected with a twist of humor to her tone. It was a bit forced, used to cover the pang of guilt Hel’s words drudged up at abandoning Aryan at such a tumultuous time for his precarious position. Perhaps the girl didn’t remind her of her old self, maybe it was more her current incarnation that anything from her past…

    Hel was realizing she might be making a mistake, but Syren could land on the Arae without question. “If you can get us into the main hangar, Cal has a story ready. He’s going to claim he’s being taken to care for a patient that’s a friend of Father’s.” Her words were running together now that she was opening up, “Cal’s the only physician I trust and we need him...Father needs him. You’ve got to trust me on this.”

    The engines roared to life, issuing a shudder along the spine of the hull that the women would feel beneath their feet. Syren sat back and turned towards Hel, seeing the fire of determination in her eyes. It was infectious.

    “Getting aboard will not be an issue,” she assured her with a knowing smile, slightly arrogant even. “The Arae is my ship, therefore, ultimately under my command.” With a nod, she faced forward and easing back on the controls, lifted the freighter into the air, immediately accelerating them into the upper atmosphere.

    Hel relaxed as they put distance between them and Nirauan. Glancing over at Syren she asked, “so, things not work out with Aryan?”

    It was probably rude to ask, but she wondered since they seemed pretty steamy when she’d last seen them.

    Syren stiffened visibly, though her expression remained passive. She gave a sideways glance at Hel as the dark blue of the skies gave way to the black void of space.

    “The Prime Minister is very busy,” she started vaguely, locating the Arae on the scanners and setting course. “As am I, now that I’ve got to be sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

    TBC...

    TAGS: @Lady Belligerent @Darth_wanderguard
     
  19. LelalMekha

    LelalMekha Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Oct 29, 2012
    Combo with Sinrebirth
    IC : Bron Dooku

    Aboard the Surronian conquerer

    This was all so bizarre. Frightening, for sure, but even more bizarre. This journey was nothing but boarding after boarding, shady invader after shady invader. In fact, the whole situation looked so unreal to Bron that he dared speak with an unexpected assertiveness, as if he was in a dream and nothing he said actually mattered:

    "Silfinia--or perhaps should I start calling you Brie now? Whether this gentleman agrees to let us alone for a moment or not, I think I am owed explanations."

    Silfinia bit her lip almost imperceptibly. 'Aden' didn't budge, but his hand was still poised to grab a weapon concealed in his robes. He threw a stern look at the Serennian:

    "I'm afraid you're not getting the dangerousness of the situation."

    "No, I don't," Bron retorted. "But it's not like you can expect me to given the circumstances, can you?"

    Aden smiled softly. "Ah yes, the Dooku imperiousness. I remember it from Tyranus's Holocron." He cast a glance, askance. "So is this your new apprentice?"

    "Alright, that's enough," Silfinia took a step forward. "Firstly, my name is Silfinia. I don't know you, and you don't know me." Her gaze grew steeled. "And if you do know of me, then you know not to trifle with my mission."

    A flinch. "I do. I apologise, my Lady." Aden half bowed. "And I do feel particularly bad for Bron here."

    The man withdrew his weapon hand, empty. Silfinia did not move her hand. "I'm a Force user. A powerful dark side influence on a world not too far from here has been acting upon the Imperial remnants to stir up trouble with a view to stealing Force sensitive children. I have a responsibility to one of those children; the parents have just been reunited and discovered that the mother had the baby taken from her while she was pregnant. The mother and father are quite distressed, as you would expect. The mother just killed the doctor who performed the surgery, here, in the Hapan cluster."

    Aden looked to Bron, apologetic. "I assumed that Agent Silfinia was on the same mission as I, and I may have jumped ahead." He sighed a bit. "I have been trying to stop some of my colleagues, who have fallen under the influence of this... Shadow, without drawing the attention of the New Republic or Empire. I do not want to restart the war, and I could see the Senate being particularly concerned about any Imperial remnant working with darksiders." Aden looked mournful.

    Silfinia allowed an eye to drift to Bron for his thoughts.

    The comparison with Tyranus had stung Bron hard; however, this 'Aden' did not seem overtly hostile, at least for now. What kind of name was that, by the way? Probably just an alias. Except for the lack of a slight glottal pause, it sounded a lot like the Mandalorian word for 'wrath...'

    "I thank you for your gesture of appeasement and your willingness to talk." the Serennian said, trying to sound as unTyrannus-like as possible. "Nevertheless, you claim to know Silfinia, which she currently denies. One of you is not telling the truth, and it is only natural I want to know--"

    "Master Bron! Master Bron!" a high pitched voice called from a hallway. "Are you all right? I must tell you at once!"

    It was Dassid, in a state of excitement.
    Aden nodded. "I know Silfinia under one of her aliases, is all. She has always been an Intel agent, after all." His smile grew artificially sweet.

    Looking unhappy, Silfinia continued. "And now I can't use that one again."

    "It's been years since you've been known by that surname, I would say. ‘Walkers would notice, after all."

    "Yes," they would, she said, also smiling back. Silfinia gestured for Dooku to go. "Speak to Dassid, Bron. We'll need to follow those parents and quickly, or we'll lose the trail. If it involves the Force, it'll be important to Leia... Luke, too, probably. I'll draft a communication for General Cracken."

    Aden nodded, lightly. His expression settled. "We're definitely pressed for time."

    "Well," the Serennian said in a sour tone, "I can only obey. After all, you are the leader of this mission, aren't you? Even though it's clearly changed along the way." Turning around, he gestured to Dassid so the droid would follow him, and the two marched toward a nearby alcove.

    And now, I am being shooed away like a low-ranking governess! the Serennian thought. I was 'hired' in the name of the New Republic. There was never any question of sudden hijackings by mysterious Force-users. Why should we trust him? Whom is Silfinia loyal to?

    "Master Bron," Dassid ended up saying, once he deemed that Silfinia and 'Aden' stood far enough, "I must tell you I made a very perplexing discovery. According to my databases, the facial traits of this frightening man match those of the Son of Mortis!"

    The scholar's eyes widened.

    "The Son of--? Dassid, we have no confirmation that the Force-wielders exist at all. There have been sightings across the centuries, yes, but that does not mean anything. Mere testimonial 'evidence' has next to no value in science."

    "But the eyes, the skin, the tattoos! You must admit it's uncanny!"

    "I won't deny that. Nevertheless, his current behavior --aside from his rather aggressive introduction-- does not quite fit an... embodiment of raw anger. And even if it did, there would be no reason for us to assume that this 'Aden' is anything other than a mythology enthusiast who based his personal style on a legend."

    "Maybe you are right. Besides, Mistress Silfinia seems to trust this man. Surely this is a good sign!"

    "I... I only ask to be convinced of that, Dassid."

    Silfinia traipsed over while Aden watched, and then headed to the kitchen to put back together the various parts he had thrown about, before moving to deal with the body. Silfinia looked angry, and perturbed.

    "Bron," she sighed. "I'm sorry about this. Aden has briefed me, and evidenced what is going on in the Hapan cluster. We've been made pawns of."

    Silfinia produced a datacron. "The Republic has been liaising with a group of Hapan moderates led by Prince Isolder. His grandmother, Ni'Korish, has recruited extremist nobles and criminal elements in the Unknown Regions to shore up her position. Ni'Korish reached out to you pretending to be an ally - to take you as a hostage; as the assassin said."

    She looked back at Aden, whispering. "But we can't trust him just because this is true, and his evidence matches what an assassin just said. It's too serendipitous; I don't trust coincidence." Her expression pinched. "Nor the ‘Will of the Force'."

    "What do you suggest we do, then?" the scholar asked. "I'd love to know who this man is, but I suspect you wouldn't give me a full answer. I mean... who is he working for? And why does he look--"
    The young man looked around him, making sure 'Aden' wasn't around.
    "--why does he have all the trappings of a darksider? Surely you can understand I'm having a hard time trusting a man like that."

    Silfinia opened her mouth, but Bron wasn't quite finished yet:
    "I... promised I would help you to the best of my ability. I took an oath -- it even made you laugh, remember? I'm not the kind of man to break a sacred promise, which is why I'll follow you anyway. Nevertheless, you do understand why I'm growing mistrustful, don't you?"

    Silfinia nodded, mute. "I'm sorry. I'm..." She looked unhappy for a moment, and then, Dassid realised, that she was demonstrating the expression of fear. "I'm afraid."

    She pulled him close, holding him close, whispering into his ear. "I think he's a Sith."

    A Sith? How could that be true?
    "But Silfinia," he whispered back, "their kind has gone extinct. It died at Endor with Vader!"

    "Others have discovered their secrets on their own in the past, you know that."

    And he did; the infamous Exar Kun sprung to mind. After all, Aden had mentioned a holocron containing the teachings of Tyranus.

    "But why did he ask you whether I was your apprentice? Even now, you're not telling me everything."

    TAG : @Sinrebirth
     
  20. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    The following is a combo with Mr. Wanderguard – thank you! :)


    IC: Prime Minister Aryan Graul and Darth Kralkus

    Office of the Prime Minister, Hand of Thrawn, North Tower, Nirauan

    Upon his return, the Prime Minister found Darth Kralkus silhouetted against the backdrop of the afternoon sun streaming through the large full-length window on the office’s western facing wall, the pointed ears and oblong features making him look almost demon-like as he perched precariously on the edge of the desk. It was as if he could see through to his very soul with that intense glare, and Aryan felt himself involuntarily shiver under the scrutiny. In truth, he did not expect the Sith Lord to still be here, seemingly waiting for him to return so that he could promptly blow the whistle on whatever scheme he suspected him of hatching.

    He couldn’t possibly know

    And yet, Aryan recoiled from that thought and hesitated over the threshold. If he truly believed that, than why was he so damned nervous? He knew what the Sith were capable of and what it would take to win. It was possible, however unlikely, that Kralkus had already plucked the incriminating evidence from his mind...

    You goddamn fool! he chided himself, the fingers of his right hand trembling slightly as they threatened to tighten into a fist. You’re probably just exhausted. You didn’t sleep since…?

    Ah, hell.

    Rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, Aryan forced himself to adopt his usual confident stride, his expression an emotionless mask as he approached the tiny master and took his seat behind the desk. The only hint that he was even remotely uncomfortable was the light sheen of sweat beading up on his forehead. But it was a warm day, and he could easily explain that away as a natural reaction to the tropical climate. Who would be the wiser?

    “We’ve made some great progress, yes,” he finally replied to Kralkus’ inquiry, idly brushing aside a stack of handwritten notes and a stray datapad to give himself some space. “The Grand Admiral is young, but I have the utmost confidence in his abilities, and I feel he will excel under my--excuse me, our guidance. We’re certainly on the right track.” Aryan yawned dramatically and leaned back in the chair, folding his hands in his lap. “In fact, I’m so convinced about the way things went, that I was hoping to step away for a few hours and get some rest.”

    He raised his brow expectantly, a sarcastic smirk now tugging at his lips. “Think I could manage that?”

    Kralkus loosed a nasally chuckle in response. “No rest in war there is, Prime Minister,” he explained as he perched on the desk once again with a Force assisted leap. He would not allow Aryan the physical space to be comfortable, but landed lightly enough that nothing would be disturbed save for a few stray papers which found their way to the floor.

    “No rest for the soldiers, nor for officers and captains and generals. And not for us, least of all while the Imperator languishes in a prison.” He stopped to think, taking a slow, deep breath as if to feel around with the Force, before opening his eyes once more and fixing them on Aryan. “An astute political mind you have, Prime Minister. One suited for governance, both in war time and peace. Continue to raid systems, the First Order does. Looting, raping, breaking, hacking, and burning. Now with Nirauan in the fold, more than a dozen small, planetary navies will we have at our disposal to stop them... once mobilized Nirauan’s influence over those systems, you have. Not Imperium navy... Under your direction as Prime Minister. Saved, many lives could be. As heroes, would the Imperium be regarded. And only at the cost of... two? Two council members. And what else?”

    For several moments, Aryan failed to respond to the Sith Lord’s lingering question. He remained slumped in the chair as if transfixed, his green-gray eyes staring ahead at an assortment of discarded reports gathered on the far side of the desk. At some point, his hand came up absently to scratch at his beard with restless energy. He suddenly felt afraid as one thought pushed freely into his awareness, penetrating the deep recesses of his fatigue-laden mind to provide clarity – Kralkus knew. He knew everything about his plan. It was as if he was luring him into a false sense of security by hitting on all of Aryan’s preferred talking points, offering advice, and coaching him on how to proceed…

    He half-expected the veil to fall at any moment, revealing a crimson lightsaber blade in its wake; the very blade that Kralkus would then use to plunge deep into his chest, ensuring that he would never entertain such treacherous thoughts again.

    But the attack never came, and he was still alive.

    Why?

    Only then, in his moment of vulnerability, did he realize that the tiny Sith Lord was giving him a second chance. Perhaps a chance to redeem himself and set things right. And if he was completely honest with himself, didn’t Kralkus’ words hold some modicum of truth?

    The two council members.

    Syren.

    Haretisch.

    The betrayal.

    Is that how it had really played out? How it was meant to be?

    "What else," Kralkus’ words repeated in his mind.

    Aryan parted his lips and shook his head slowly as realization finally dawned – there was nothing else. He had been an arrogant fool, too drunk on his own self-centeredness to understand that Syren and Haretisch had made the impossible decision. By taking out those two council members, she had secured the Imperium’s future – the needs of the many, over the needs of the few. It was such a simple concept, politics 101, and yet he had completely lost sight of it all. In many ways, she had done it for him; to help him.

    And what had he done to show his appreciation? In his haste, he had decided to arrange a coup to take down the Sith, a resolution that would’ve had dire consequences for their relationship...and beyond. Why hadn’t he seen it before? He wasn’t ready to throw everything away over a bruised ego.

    Fortunately, he now had a real opportunity to gain favor with the people.

    Inhaling deeply, Aryan leaned forward and finally met Kralkus’ gaze, his eyes shining with a different fervor, a renewed sense of confidence. “How many fleets are we talking about?” he asked readily, acting as if nothing had been amiss; it was business as usual. “Beyond the hit on the Capital City, the Council tried to assure me that everything was fine. Did you know it was their biggest talking point to keep the merger off the table? They were worried about us bringing the war to them. I knew they were struggling...yet, Councilor Wyn persisted to lie to my face.” He scoffed and shook his head lightly, a finger brushing against his chin in thought. “Funny how things tend to work out...”

    Aryan exhaled heavily and dropped his hands back to the desktop. “But I won’t condemn them for the sins of one man, especially one who already paid the ultimate price.” He pressed his lips together firmly and diverted his gaze. “The sooner we can deploy, the better.”

    With pursed lips, Kralkus nodded and loosed a barely audible rumble from deep in his throat - a typical sign that he was thinking. “Convene, the council must, to call the fleets to arms. To assert vassalage to the Imperium. Quickly,” he urged. If he truly suspected Aryan’s motives before, his worries were mostly quelled now. He could feel it in the man’s energy as much as see it in his face - whether the Prime Minister had been scared straight, gained clarity, or had never known any untoward motives in the first place, it was done now.

    Canting his head, the Prime Minister took a moment to study Kralkus under a careful eye, quickly noting the urgency behind his words. It made him wonder just how far things had deteriorated while he was too busy feeding into his own pride. Had he truly been that lost? His right hand balled into a fist and he tapped it lightly against the desk with some disdain. “Let’s hope they’re in a cooperative mood,” he murmured quietly as he began to rise to his feet.

    Moving around to the side of the desk, Aryan tapped the comm unit to contact Ami Sayul, his newly appointed Chief of Staff after Oberon Vala had promptly vacated the position; considering the man had ended up in the medical center following an unfortunate encounter with Syren, Aryan couldn’t blame him for resigning.

    “Miss Sayul,” he spoke firmly into the mic, “I need you to inform the Ruling Council that I wish to meet for an emergency session. I’m already on my way down; join me out in the corridor, and I’ll fill you in with all of the necessary details.”

    Without waiting for a confirmation, the Prime Minister straightened his jacket and started to stride purposefully towards the door. Before crossing the threshold, however, he hesitated and glanced back to regard Kralkus one final time. His lips parted to speak, but then he thought better of it and only nodded instead. It was a genial gesture, almost as if he was offering his gratitude for something that would remain untold. For his part, Aryan would allow Kralkus to draw his own conclusions.

    Flashing a parting smile, he then slipped from the room.

    TAG: @Darth_wanderguard
     
  21. DarthIshyZ

    DarthIshyZ Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Jan 8, 2005
    IC: Darth Serapis
    The planet Bedlam

    It started as a buzzing. Like static over a com line. Noise in his head. The noise blocked out any other noise, too. He saw Rustici and Ossery saying something, but couldn't understand what it was. He shook his head to try to clear it. Something in the atmosphere. Something in the nature of this planet. Something poisoning his Force abilities.

    He closed his eyes. He held his head. He breathed. It didn't get better. It got worse. Maybe it was where he stood. He moved back a few steps. He stumbled and fell. It hurt. His hands hurt where he'd touched the ground. His head hurt where... what? What was happening. Someone was slicing into his brain.

    He felt like a lightsaber was slowly going down into his head. A mind shard? These two have no abilities to do a mind shard. What was happening? The pain was increasing. The noise was increasing. Everything was increasing. Except his ability to sit upright. He rolled over onto one shoulder. His hands going up to his head again. Trying to bat away whatever was digging in. What was happening to him?

    The pain got less, but the noise remained. He felt nauseous. Dizzy.

    He heard one word. "Pitiful."

    He looked at Rustici. He was saying something, but it had nothing to do with "Pitiful."

    "No, it isn't him, you sorry excuse for a Sith."

    That voice. He remembered... but didn't. He was gone. Incorporated into himself. It couldn't be.

    "It is."

    Serapis screamed. He knew he did. He felt the expulsion of air and his vocal cords rattling in his throat, but he couldn't hear it at all. He screamed again. Now his throat was starting to hurt. A nearby piece of debris was picked up and crushed in midair.

    Serapis got to his feet. The noise subsided. He could hear things again. He couldn't understand what anyone was saying, but he could hear words. His brain was having trouble piecing together what those words meant. His mind was a shambles. Like a blind man had diced his brain and put it back together with tape and glue.

    The only thing he could understand was this voice. This cruel voice. He had dismissed it an eon ago. A lifetime ago. He had incorporated it. It didn't exist by itself.

    "Yes. Yes, I do. And you're going to be mine now. No others to interrupt me. No interrogator. No nice little other being. Just me. I'm taking over, Ithorian. You'll be lucky if they let you out of this Asylum when I'm done with you!"

    The only, last thing he heard before he collapsed was laughter. Cruel laughter.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth, @Mitth_Fisto
     
  22. Quinlan Vos

    Quinlan Vos Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Oct 24, 2017
    IC: Kestal Brothers
    Giving Chase

    The Kestal brother's were quick, yet even they found it hard to keep pace with the bounding figure ahead of them that they knew to be Zalen. Being one with the force allowed the Sith lady to outpace them considerably, with the only thing allowing them to somewhat stay in range being their extensive work in wooded areas, in which a force user would be forced to tone it down in order to not risk injury. Nevertheless, they weren't gaining ground either, as they themselves were weighted down by their gear.

    Before long, they telepathically decided to comm the prancing figure ahead, asking how much further they should expect to give chase. Before they could quite get the comm out however, they were beset upon by a pair of enemies riding speeders. They quickly dodged, unholstered their weapons, and put down the men. Then, they hopped on the bikes, Thorne and Tyris on one and Talon on the other, ready to offer Zalen a hand up behind him seeing as this would increase their speed tenfold.

    Even though they had been slowed slightly by the sudden attack, it took them just moments to catch up to Zalen, calling out for her to jump aboard...

    Tags: @Lady Belligerent

    ----------
    IC: Darth Francium
    Kamino

    As the trio approached the smaller hovering pad that held the houses and apartment buildings, Francium checked the address once more. He asked a passerby for some quick directions, and once more they set off in the correct direction. Before long, they were standing outside of a small, reinforced door. Francium proceeded to loudly bang on the door, demanding the occupant to open up.

    After a short pause, the door slowly slid open, and the large Sith stepped through to confront the Lieutenant Director, asking for the recall of Storm Squadron and for some control to be placed upon him to command a part of the Bureau...

    Tags: @Darth_wanderguard
     
  23. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Azeth Drost
    Carrack Infiltration

    Just as the Miraluka began to sneak off towards the treasure vault, a commotion from the bridge grabbed his attention once again. Azeth halted his movement, one foot hovering inside the bridge's outermost doorway. Why was he going back? The vault was clearly the more strategic target, not only for him, but for his master and his master's master as well. Staking claim on any one of the artifacts inside would assist in the young Sith's rise through the ranks, let alone all of them at once..

    Yet, Azeth remained, fixated on the voices wafting out from within the bridge. Azeth gnawed on his lip in frustration. What was so important in there? With a sigh, he moved closer within, taking care not to be spotted by those down below. A sight which resulted in a very disgruntled Miraluka fighting back any number of expletives which would break his concealment. Down below, surrounded by guards, was Dr. Na, who looked positively frightened.

    Azeth made a mental note of the crew remaining inside the bridge. Seven. Seven bodies to take care of. Azeth patted the side of his satchel, finding the explosive pouch empty. Which meant that either Dr. Na had already planted his, which was doubtful, or the more rational conclusion, they were confiscated. Azeth sunk ever farther into the bridge, just enough to poke his head down below.

    It was possible that a guard might have been foolish enough to bring them in with them. After a moment of scanning, Azeth had nothing. He was faced with two options, he could stay and free Dr. Na, but risk the possibility of losing his target, or leave Dr. Na to the guards, taking the treasure for himself. Problem with that being that he might end up getting spaced without a pilot. Furthermore, Azeth could distinctly sense a number of powerful force users joining together near the center of the ship, near where the hold was. Azeth scratched his chin, each precarious second adding to his frustration.

    "Decisions decisions.. Well.. I always was punished for making attachments with the Jedi.. Maybe the Sith will reward me for once?"
    He muttered under his breath, convincing no one.
    He sighed dramatically. "You had one job Dr. Na.. one job.."

    His mind made up, Azeth rose to his full height, shrugging off his excess robes in the process, their silken fabric forming a mottled heap by his feat. Lightsaber in hand, the Miraluka stepped off the edge of the platform, landing silently behind the Captain.

    Each passing nanosecond seared themselves into Azeth's subconscious. Surrounding him, each of the four guards appeared to move in slow motion, the sudden appearance of an enemy combatant in their midst dawning on each one differently. A couple moved to raise their blasters, but it would matter not. They would all be cut down like errant blades of grass..

    Directly to his left knelt Dr. Na, a horrified expression splayed across his face. The dread felt good, exhilarating. Time began catching up to Azeth's senses, as he twirled around the surprised Captain, using the man's body to absorb the first volley of sporadic blasterfire. Azeth's lighstaber burst to life, signalling to the room of their imminent demise..

    Tag: @Sinrebirth
     
  24. Moonspun Dragon

    Moonspun Dragon Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Apr 6, 2011
    A super combo featuring Darth Valdimar, Darth Cocytus, Darth Saadi, and Darth Arach.

    IC- Darth Valdimar, Darth Cocytus, Darth Saadi, and Darth Arach

    Standoff in the Vault of the Carrack

    False Sith? Valdimar wondered at that as the kaminoan continued his tirade. By the time Cocytus had asked his question the Tusken had figured out where he was coming from. “False Sith? You wound me,” he said while mockingly holding a hand to his chest. Then he scoffed and chuckled, “Do you really think the two of you are going to reignite the Banite Sith?! What a joke?! Look at what it got the last few Sith that tried that! Wake up! The opportunities today are much more grand than when forced to comply under that ancient Sith system.” Keeping a healthy distant, and remaining on his guard, Valdimar continued, “As for what I can offer... well... unless you prefer death I’m your only guaranteed ride off this drifting wreck. From where I sit I believe we hold all the cards. What do you offer?”

    Cocytus smirked thinly at the Tusken Raider, taking him as a joke, and joining in on Lord Sidious's urge to kill. "Oh, I'm sure that two of us are perfectly capable of restoring Bane's lineage." he said calmly and coldly, referring only to himself and Palpatine, "Darth Insipid was a fool to divide power between three individuals! Now once again like before the Rule of Two, the Sith fight among themselves, leading us to extinction! Only two there can be to save us! A master to embody the power and an apprentice to crave it!”

    Darth Cocytus stared at Valdimar deeply with his black glowing kaminoan eyes, and glanced at Saadi, nodding at him. “Nonetheless, if you have nothing to offer… The Sith has no further use for you…” he said still so softly, "And in my point of view... you have not a single card on you..."

    Cocytus then raised both hands and unleashed a storm of ice upon the Tusken Raider who was more use to heat of Tatooine than the cold of Hoth.

    Still in the shadows, Arach listened to the exchange, silently gaging the other two Sith. This may become a very messy situation.

    “And in my point of view,” the long- necked one was finishing, “you have not a single card on you...”

    The assassin felt a sudden dramatic drop in temperature right before the ice was released. Acting quickly, she pulled her companion out of the direct blast, then countered the ice with raging heat.

    “Don’t be so quick to assume,” she remarked as she stepped out of the shadows, her golden eyes blazing.

    The power the Shadow promised was more like the Nothing. The emptiness was all encompassing and left a feeling of uselessness. Darth Saadi began to feel pangs of panic as he surveyed his situation in the vault; looking at the Kaminoan, he became momentarily hypnotized, briefly unable to recognize that it was Darth Cocytus who he vaugely recalled despised him, yet, he was struck by the elegance of the species.

    And as his mind swirled in needless parabolas, he began to hear the voices, manifesting first from his Kaminoan "ally", as well as a Tusken and a dark lady of the Sith, he somehow recognized, although he knew not how.

    Saadi stared in a daze as Cocytus cooled down the sand man, and stepping to his side, the Clawdite barely uttered, it would sound as merely a murmer, "Remember the artefacts, Cocytus. We must..."

    At which point he was struck by an overwhelming force of hot energy, causing him to gasp for breath, although none came at present. Dropping to a knee, Saadi's eyes rolled across the room from Arach and Valdimar and back to Cocytus who was standing next to him, pleading, "Cocytus, remember the mission." He choked out, slowly rising to his feet, summoning what he felt were scattered fragments of the dark side; the only thing keeping him alive at present.


    Cocytus’ eyes narrowed into slits as the Sith Lady, Arach, interfered in his attack with raging heat. He knew she was here as well, but took no concern towards her, not seeing much in the Lady. Nonetheless, kaminoan knew better than to underestimate. In response to Arach's blazing heat, Cocytus's hateful ice changed into that of a storm of Sith lightning surging from his finger tips.

    Meanwhile, the kaminoan's thoughts momentarily went to Saadi, hearing his voice. The clawdite was clearly dying, most likely betrayed by whatever power that was given to him. Whatever it was, it made Cocytus's "friend" a liability to the mission... and the perfect excuse of disposing his rival....

    As Arach appeared from the shadows and yanked Valdimar from the path of the frigid ice burst he rolled to a knee and brandished the borrowed saber. Dark Side energies collided and roiled within the Carrack and it seemed to have a profound effect on the combatants within. Skirmishes were second hat on Tatooine and the dark energy in the air sparked something primal inside the Tusken’s psyche. Valdimar roared an ancient Tusken Raider battle cry as he ignited the saber. Its red glow illuminated the dark hallway and served to obscure the black clad Sith behind it. Just then Force lightning erupted from the Kaminoan’s fingertips and arched towards its target, Darth Arach. Stepping around the attack and pressing forward the Tusken chucked his borrowed saber at the Sith Inquisitor. The crimson blade spun horizontally at chest level, a clear attempt to throw Cocytus off his base. A mere pace or two behind it charged the Tusken brandishing his modified gaderffii stick whose mace like end he swung low as he expected to meet his ducking foe there.

    Time slows significantly to those with the force and especially those well trained to use its powerful majesty. As the seconds ticked, Darth Cocytus sensed the attack from behind and frowned in self-disappointment. He was making the same mistake that Palpatine made upon his first death at hands of Vader on the Second Death Star. The kaminoan was getting cocky for a moment and knew to correct himself by acting in swift and calculated movements.

    Cocytus ceased his Sith Lightning and quickly did a somersault to the left to dodge the thrown lightsaber. Back onto his feet, the kaminoan faced his foes before force slamming both into the wall and summing both his blades for ignition. The Sith Inquisitor smirked as he pointed his blade tips at Validmar and Arach. This was going to be educational for him, learning the advantages of two Sith working together, while looking for weaknesses to exploit and later remedy.

    The waves of cold and heat flowed through his being like a relentless fever; it had been too long in the field it seems, as Saadi coughed, gagging from a long suppressed nausea, as he spit out a white, bile like fluid, a few strands dangling from his chin like gossamer webs.

    A web it was indeed, one of deceit and deception. As he regained his composure, the Clawdite could sense the treachery of Cocytus, who was obviously waiting to dispose of him without notice.
    Saadi took a crouched position, gripping his inactivated lightsaber tightly as the Tusken roared, aiming his fury at the Kaminoan. The changeling rather enjoyed this, as the rage of battle never ceased to inspire him. Perhaps this Valdimar might make things easier for Saadi and liquidate Cocytus after all, he thought, watching as the Kaminoan evaded a thrown lightsaber from the Tusken, while attempting to isolate he and Arach.

    Saadi layed low, focusing on his breathing, slowly calming the churning fever sending waves of chill and heat throughout his body; and waiting for the ideal opportunity to strike.

    Arach raised a force barrier, deflecting most of Cocytus’ attack. What little she couldn’t deflect, managed to knock her back a few steps.

    As Vald approached Cocytus, Arach turned her attention to Saadi. She slowly walked toward him, sensing his emotions. The assassin subtly touched the Clawdite’s mind. “You know he’s only using us to kill you. If we fail, then he’ll just do it himself.” She stopped a good distance out of reach of the sick Clawdite, her stance non- threatening. “However, if you join myself and my companion, you could help us get rid of him. Afterward,” she shrugged, “do what you will.”

    While Arach was able to mostly dissipate the force wave Valdimar took it full bore and the Tusken slammed roughly into the wall before crumpling to the ground. Reaching out with the Force he pulled the thrown saber back to him and ignited it as he unsteadily stood back up using his gaderffii stick as a temporary crutch. From his periphery he watched Arach approach Saadi and on wobbling legs he moved to cover her backside placing himself between her and Cocytus. “And...” he paused as he grimaced, rolling his shoulders while holding his weapons before him, “... just what is your plan if you kill us? Hmm? The Carrack is derelict and we’ve disabled every other possible ship you could escape with on our way in here. Plan to die here adrift in space?” He watched the Kaminoan cautiously and would launch a mind shard to disrupt him at the first sign of an aggressive action.

    Cocytus’s eyes glowed and narrowed as he too turned to Saadi, sensing his treachery as well. Then again, that could only mean that the clawdite saw through him too, sensing the kaminoan's own treachery. The Sith Inquisitor smirked thinly in remembrance that this was always the way of being a Sith Lord. Nonetheless, he considered Arach's offer and Valdimar's concern, finding both to be reasonable in practicality.

    "Very well, let's kill him together..." Darth Cocytus replied with a thin smile, "I do expect though to be able to leave this ship with a single, particular artifact. Let me go and the rest may be yours without a fuss..."

    The kaminoan turned to the clawdite fully, lightsabers ready for treachery from any parties here. His eyes glowed with sadistic lust at the dying Saadi. "Goodbye... lackey of Insipid."

    The moments ticked by slowly, ever so much, that Darth Saadi couldn't gather how much time was passing by at all. He summoned his full concentration as Arach slowly approached him; her words appearing in his mind fully formed. His current state not notwithstanding, as there was indeed still life in him yet, in his fatigued condition, he took a modicum of comfort in the assassin's words.

    Although this offer was likely a ruse, Saadi had taken his fill of the hidebound lecturing on the rule of two endlessly propagated by the treacherous Kaminoan, and he was inclined to agree with Arach's suggestion.

    Sensing his situation on this foresaken Carrack, which he had loyally and bravely helped to infiltrate, (but to what gain, only to be trapped and murdered?) was becoming untenable, the changeling felt a sense of acceptance wash over his being. Acceptance of the lies, deception, and betrayals, and indeed the abandonment associated with everything and everyone involved here; starting with Insipid himself.

    Stifling a cough, he realized his options were now limited, as Cocytus had truly revealed himself for what he was after all. Staring directly at Lord Arach, Saadi nodded, almost imperceptibly.

    [ let a small genuine smile spread. She reached out a hand and touched the Clawdite’s shoulder. “Then let me give you some strength.”

    The assassin narrowed her eyes in concentration, trusting Vald to keep Cocytus at bay for a few minutes. She called on the dark side and used it to heal Saadi enough to help him fight his fever and give him strength for what lied ahead.

    Cocytus's eyes narrowed, sensing exactly what was going on, finding himself to have gravely misinterpreted Arach's offer. At the same time, however, once again, the treachery of the Sith have shown itself as he expected. Nonetheless, the kaminoan wasn't going to let anyone stand in his way of victory.

    Cocytus reached out with the Dark Side and focused on all his hatred, his malice and his will freeze out the weaknesses of the Sith. Counteracting against Anarch's force heal, the Sith Inquisitor began to force drain the Clawdite, hoping to make the process all but ineffective.

    The moment Cocytus began to drain the life out of Darth Saadi, Valdimar immediately unleashed the Mind Shard he’d prepared digging at the Kaminoan’s concentration. He also advanced towards his enemy, though slowly as he seemed hobbled by his injury. Taking the ignited saber he once again threw it horizontally at chest level, doing whatever he could to disrupt the Banite Sith.

    Cocytus cried out in pain as he felt the Tusken's attack dig into his mind. However, he took that pain and turned it into anger and rage, feeding his power in the dark side. Once again, sensing the thrown the lightsaber, the kaminoan sided stepped against the wall, before reaching out with the force. He grabbed hold of Valdimar's neck with Invisible hands, lifted him up and threw him at his female companion, still determined to disrupt her.

    "See what is happening?!" barked Darth Cocytus, reigniting his twin blades, "The Sith infighting itself into extinction! Only two can exist! Only two can be forced to work together to preserve the Order of the Sith Lords! Darth Bane understood that! Just as my master understands..."

    Closing his eyes, the sensation of healing was immediate, and although Saadi sensed a malicious tremor in the Force, it's effect was instantaneously mitigated by combined efforts, working in tandem to achieve renewal.

    The changeling's eyes flashed open wide, glowing a dark golden color, staring ahead, he smiled at this newfound rejuvenation.

    Arach had redoubled her efforts to speed up the process. Now with Vald being thrown at her, she broke the connection, hoping that Saadi had gained enough strength. Without looking, the assassin threw up her hand and stopped the Tusken’s momentum before he hit her.

    Arach locked her eyes with the Kaminoan’s. “No. The Sith are stronger together.” She lowered her hand, allowing Vald to land on his feet. “With just two, they might as well be extinct. They were easier to wipe out.” She smirked, “At least would have been if they had faced opponents who were far more intelligent than the Jedi.”

    “The Rule of Two lasted for a thousand years, Arach." Darth Cocytus sneered in retort, "Far longer than any dynasty of Sith save perhaps the most Ancient of our kind. Darth Bane's lineage did what no other dynasty have done before him, but only fell because of treachery of the light within Darth Vader."

    No offense, Mastsr, Cocytus spoke to Sidious in his mind, But we must remedy certain flaws that destroyed the Sith last time...

    Cocytus's eyes narrowed now finding three Sith against him. The odds were against him now, and felt forced to turn to... diplomacy. "Nonetheless, prove me wrong, then." He said, getting into a now defensive position, "My offer still stands. Let me take a single artifact of my desire, let me go, and we can end this stand off without the waste of Sith Blood..."

    “Darth Bane was a selfish fool,” the Tusken dared to speak the blasphemous words as he was set down by Arach. “Yes, for only a fool could think that the full power of the Dark Side could be harnessed by just two Sith.” He disabled and called back his flung saber with the Force before continuing, “Tell me, Darth Cocytus, what did the Banite Sith do in their thousand year reign? I’ll tell you, they cowered in the dark, hoarding their power while the Jedi multiplied and ruled with pracitally free reign. It took a thousand years and a Sith willing to risk it all in a power play for them to do anything substantial and then, in the end, they failed.” He winced behind his mask and grabbed at his side as spasm of pain shot through his body. With labored breath he continued, “And yet you want to reinstate them... why? So you can wait another... thousand years to do anything substantial? No. Much better to be a part of this Sith War that will sharpen the skills and battle-harden the best of us. And when the Sith reunite we will form into an unstoppable force capable of doing something NOW, not in some future we won’t be a part of.”

    Putting the lightsaber back on his belt he gripped his gaderffii stick and stood in a defensive stance. “Abandon that foolish ancient Sith sentiment and rejoin us. It’s the only way you’ll ever sniff the power we all feel coursing nearby.”

    Darth Cocytus glared at Valdimar with pure venom in his glowing yellow eyes as the tusken raider out right insulted Bane's legacy. It was as if he knew nothing of the true power of the Rule of Two and the many advantages. Valdimare knew not of how it allowed the jedi to become confident, weak, complacent and ignorant, allowing the Sith to take over right under their nose. The only things that ruined it was Palpatine's over focus on imperial politics and his overconfidence in Vader who still had the light side within.

    Valdimar spoke as if the force was a fire that got brighter with every member shared. Fool. The force is venom, which power is diluted if put into too many cups, but all powerful if poured into a single one. If every new cup to take on the role of master, the venom gets more potent. Darth Sidious proved it by becoming the most powerful of not just Bane's lineage, but in all of Sith History.

    Nonetheless, Cocytus knew better than to do anything rash, again knowing that three against one were terrible odds. Thus, the Sith Lord decided to stand down and postpone his ambitions... for the short term anyway.

    "Very well, Lord Validmare..." Cocytus said calmly as he extinguished his blades, "I'll stand aside from that path... Tell me, who's side are you on In this destructive Civil War?"

    The Tusken eyed the Kaminoan and the doubt of his sudden change of heart was plastered clearly upon his face, luckily the mask he wore hid it more than aptly. Reaching a hand behind him Valdimar scratched his shoulder blade and stuttered, “Well... uh... I kinda ‘woke up’ in the Empress’ unique... uh... care.” He was about to continue but shook his head. “Nevermind all that, we have more pressing matters to tend to,” he gestured with his hand toward the prizes they all felt surging nearby. “After you,” he said to Darth Cocytus and Darth Saadi.

    Tags: @Sinrebirth, @Mostlymad, @Darth Cocytus, @Dagobahsystem
     
  25. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    GM UPDATE 1 OF 3

    IC: Lieutenant DirectorKamino

    As the Lieutenant Director’s door slid open, Francium and his retinue would immediately find themselves staring down an assortment of blaster rifle barrels.

    “Now what kind of director would I be if I hadn’t the sense to employ guards?” a steely voice asked from behind the desk at the far end of the room. The man’s hair was short and gray, neatly slicked back with a slight widow’s peak, and he wore a uniform reminiscent of that worn by naval officers, but jet black and devoid of rank insignia. He had no need to display his status. “Now.... where are my manners?” His gaze remained fixed on his visitors, cold as ice as he stood from his desk chair and gestured for the trio to sit. He would remain standing until Francium and company took a seat themselves.

    “I knew I would be receiving a visit, only I had assumed not quite so soon,” he started. Despite the hair and uniform, there was something reminiscent in the director’s face...

    While Francium’s inquiries and demands commenced regarding Storm Squadron and the command of the ISIB, Birdy’s eyes widened with realization as he took in the director’s features - narrow chin, aquiline nose, high cheekbones... he was a younger carbon copy of the Imperator himself.

    “Yes, yes,” the Director replied humorlessly, having seen the change in Birdy’s expression. “I am ID-4491, otherwise known as the Lieutenant Director of the Internal Sith Intelligence Bureau. Currently of course, acting director. The Imperator had me created from his own DNA to serve in the post should he ever be... incapacitated for a time. He also implanted me with select memories from his own life, less some more traumatic examples, to ensure I would act predictably if the time ever came. For all intents and purposes relating to the Bureau, I am he.”

    He paused, still expressionless. “Now, as to your demand to command a portion of the Bureau - that is not going to happen. Where the recall of Storm Squadron is concerned, there is a plan to recover the Imperator. It is in its early stages but you will simply have to trust me. If you truly do wish to assist, however, there *is* something you can do.”

    TAG: @Quinlan Vos

    ~~~

    IC: Ami SayulNirauan

    “Yes, Prime Minister,” the new Chief of Staff responded via the comm, and her stomach fluttered with nerves. She was new to this, clearly. Only last week she was a mid-to-senior level staffer, a trusted assistant to Ruusel, god rest his soul. Vala she’d had less love for, and the feeling was mutual. Where Ruusel treated his subordinates like colleagues, Vala had seemingly endeavored to treat them more like servants. It was a shameful thing to admit, even to herself, but she was glad for the “mishap” that had resulted in his resignation.

    But this... this was unexpected. She’d heard the words ‘Chaos is a ladder,’ before, though she couldn’t remember from where, and if she hadn’t believed it before she certainly couldn’t deny it now. Thankfully the chaos was abating - Doge had been removed from his post and Nirauan was no longer under martial law. The locals were slow to fully return to their usual routines after the events of the last week, and the media was still uncharacteristically quiet, but at least things had begun to return to normal. Still, the new Nirauan was clearly a planet at war now as part of the Imperium. As its capital, even.

    Ami stepped out from her office and checked her chrono before making her way across the circular corridor of the north tower toward that of the Prime Minister, apprehensive for what would be only her third meeting with her new boss.

    TAG: @HanSolo29

    ~~~

    IC: Captain AltaThe Repentance, Nirauan Airspace

    “Interesting,” Alta muttered under his breath as he viewed the data parcel Darth Kralkus had transmitted to the Repentance. He could only wonder where, and how, the Sith had obtained the intel within.

    Keying his comm, he tuned to Jerod’s frequency. “Grand Admiral, you’ll want to see this,” he forwarded the parcel to Lennox’s personal datapad.

    The information was invaluable. The Bedlam Institution for the Criminally Demented... Bedlam System, Thusa Sector, grid coordinates 0-7. Per the intel it housed multiple high value individuals of the First Order. But why? Had Darth Insipid simply discarded his minions as they lost their usefulness? Surely if they were shucked aside in such a way, they would hold little value as prisoners of war. The possibility for further valuable intel was of course present, but ‘criminally demented’ was rarely a label that indicated reliability in interrogations. Of course the label itself could mean nothing, or could have been an active attempt to deter capture attempts.

    Nonetheless, the Institution could be a valuable military target.

    TAG: @Jerjerrod-Lennox
     
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