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Star Wars Resurrection

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Sinrebirth , May 5, 2019.

  1. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    OOC: The following is a combo with Sinrebirth – thank you so much! :D

    IC: Aryan Graul and the Holocron

    Shuttle, enroute to Korriban

    Aryan remained unconcerned about the more obvious details of his situation – things such as his current location or how much time had actually passed since Tavion had beaten and rendered him unconscious. All of that seemed rather inconsequential compared to the strange, pyramidal artifact currently resting in the palm of his hand. Aside from the ethereal glow emanating from its central base, it appeared to vibrate, almost as if the Force itself was speaking directly through its crystalline surface.

    It was an odd sensation – one that seemed to resonate within his very soul and felt altogether intimate. In fact, it was stronger than anything he had ever experienced in the Force before, and he knew that he could not dismiss it as mere coincidence.

    As if it could sense these thoughts, the Holocron decided at that moment to activate, revealing a cloaked man draped in dark robes. Aryan narrowed his eyes to scrutinize the miniature figure as it shimmered into existence, but before he could investigate further, it began to speak:

    "This is unexpected,” the man uttered plainly, his voice tinged with a hint of dismay. “Did it happen in the end? The Twilight War?"

    Pursing his lips, Aryan leaned back on his haunches and issued a heavy sigh. He was clearly perplexed, and perhaps even a little disappointed, by such a vague question. While he considered himself fairly proficient in most aspects of galactic history, he could not recall any references to a ‘Twilight War’ – it did not exist. The man was touting nonsense, but perhaps he could now take comfort in the fact that whatever he was referring to had never taken place in this timeline.

    If it was even a sentient being that was capable of perceiving such emotions. At this point, he wasn’t so sure.

    “No,” Aryan replied simply, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. “At least, not that I’m aware of. There have been a lot of wars over the centuries, but none of them have been assigned that specific title. Unless I don’t quite understand your meaning…?”

    Inclining his chin marginally, Aryan leaned closer to get a better view of the luminous figure. “I’m afraid I’m out of my league here,” he admitted with a soft scoff. “I’ve never seen anything like this before; I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking at...or who I’m addressing.”

    "I'm a Holocron," the man said, simply. "A data repository, and recording of my personality." A gesture, more shrug than anything else; muted, as his arms were not raised along with it. "But my name isn't that important."

    "I have a few after all; I don't particularly care about your name, for example."

    "So if it didn't happen..." he paused. "Or it happened so long as to have passed into memory. Some good; some bad." Another pause, and a stroke of his chin. "I take it the Dark has not been defeated yet?"

    It peered around. "I cannot imagine that such conditions are the provenance of the Light winning..."

    A wry smirk crossed Aryan’s features as he reclined back and rested his head against the durasteel wall. “That’s an astute observation,” he muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He did not appreciate this…Holocron’s cold attitude. It reminded him too much of a droid – and he didn’t exactly care for droids, especially when they were self-indulgent and overbearing.

    He wasn’t sure if a recorded personality trapped in the memory banks of a data repository could be considered a true automaton, but it seemed close enough. Even so, what other choice did he have in his current predicament? The Force had gifted this Holocron to him for a reason, and he would be foolish not to take advantage of it in order to aid in his escape.

    With a sigh, Aryan canted his head and studied the figure curiously. “Unfortunately, it’s also accurate,” he conceded solemnly. “The Darkness prevails – all thanks to Tavion and her Sith cultists. She intends to unleash a terrible evil on the galaxy, and if she succeeds, there will be nothing left to act as a deterrent for the Darkness to spread. It will consume everything in its path.”

    Clenching his jaw, he then closed his eyes against a stab of pain that suddenly clenched at his chest. “She has already managed to corrupt my son,” he murmured in a hoarse whisper.

    "Ah yes." He mused, stroking his chin. "The son. I did wonder." With nothing further being added, the man nodded. "Well, I am here, and it behooves me to teach you the ways of the Force, echo or not."

    "Tavion... I remember reading about her, before. But, well, we'll have to see. Ragnos, right? Marka Ragnos? The one who defeated Simus on Dwartii, and took the mantle of Dark Lord for a century, or some-such. Bad guy; trying to come back."

    The hood remained up, but the man still hesitated even though he had the ability to project whatever emotion he saw fit, but here he was, pausing. "Sorry, I am just thinking. I have a habit of overthinking, mind you." He shrugged. "I take it that the darkness is investigating your echo, hoping to follow it back to the source -"

    There was a noise, and the Holocron flashed out of existence, silencing itself. They were about to have company.

    Aryan became aware of the slight shift concurrently with the Holocron’s vanishing. It manifested itself as a perceptible chill that ran down the length of his spine, prompting him to curse and spring into action. Without so much as a thought, he clutched the artifact to his chest and hid it within the confines of his jacket. Nevermind that it was bulky and uncomfortable; he was willing to forgo convenience if it meant uncovering the truth about his situation and learning from its vast knowledge.

    In fact, it was the first time someone had arranged to teach him about the Force. It was something he had yearned for ever since discovering his talents in that detention cell all those years ago. But more than that, the Holocron had offered him one very important thing – hope.

    Holding onto that promise, Aryan drew his knees up to his chest and resumed a more prone position to appease his captors.

    He then waited.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
  2. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Immortal Mod-King of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 8 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Kenix Jir
    Korriban, near Tomb of Marka Ragnos

    The spirits seemed annoyed with Ka'rta; she was immune to their contrivances, and Refined Voice snorted. You bore us. Your death will be the only entertainment you can offer. Rasping Voice had nothing to add, and silence prevailed.

    Kenix paused, blinking away his concerns. "Sorry, Ka'rta - I saw you and Solo in the crystal, but it must be a trick. This place," he gestured, as the others spread themselves out. "It is built on tricks; atop more and more evil until it has condensed and purified it into the blackest of things." He shuddered. "Sorry to wax, but how you're handling this so well is almost as scary of this place."

    The man turned to face the way they had came. "I wonder how long we'll be waiting here."

    "Not very long."

    The voice sounded as if it was right behind them, and Kenix jumped. It was, it was, him.

    [​IMG]
    Marka Ragnos

    "She will be with you shortly. With my Scepter, loaded with the collected Force essences of a dozen sites. When she arrives, you will defend my tomb to the last man and woman."

    A pause.

    "Do you understand?"

    Kenix, as was becoming his habit, looked to Ka'rta, because all of this was so far above his pay-grade he had no idea what he was even doing here anymore.

    TAG: @galactic-vagabond422
    ---

    Heading up, by the flag hangar of the Resurrection, arriving

    The Imperial Star Destroyer arrived, and as it did, an evolution occurred aboard the warship. Shuttles burst free from its main hangar bay, conveying troopers and Sith cultists in droves, coming to take a world as the New Sith Empire's capital. Today, they would greet Marka Ragnos as he returned from the depths, and he would reunify the Imperials against the New Republic.

    Foreteller grinned to himself, and Voren pouted. This was as expected; it gave them a good cover to depart. He is not a Force user in the strictest sense, nor is he Jedi. He is carrying an echo of the Force, echoing down from the past. It's quite complicated.

    Voren snorted. I have never heard of such a thing.

    We're talking pre-Republic stuff here, Voren my boy.
    Foreteller made fun of him.

    All of a sudden they felt the volcano of power that was Tavion leave the ship, and they sighed. Hurry, hurry. Within moments, Linnett's wish was true, and they were before the shuttle in the Flag Hangar, sneaking aboard. It was a standard Imperial shuttle, primed to depart, but waiting for a pilot. A route had been pre-programmed; a location away from the main battle that was to begin.

    A series of communications flowed between the secret location on Korriban and the shuttle, separate from the target of the Tomb of Ragnos. Coordinates corresponding, yes, with the X on Tavion's shuttle map; to where many of them were now heading.

    As soon as Linnett arrived, however, she would detect the Box, sitting in the cargo bay.

    The Foreteller lifted her arm for her and gestured with the Force, revealing Aryan Graul, a disheveled mess of a man.

    Oooooooh, the Foreteller said.

    TAG: @TheSilentInfluence, @HanSolo29 (you may combo)
    ---
    The Cloister of XoXaan

    Their exultation merged with the Force, and Lumiya looked up, as she guided the shuttle, having haphazardly dressed and rearmed. "Syren, you need to make yourself strong in the Force; a wall, before this world consumes you whole." As she took them down, coming to a disheveled looking collection of stone that could only be described as a cloister, isolated but secure. The door looked ancient, completely in disuse.

    Lumiya stood at the base of the ramp. "There is something here, my apprentice. A connection between then and now, and I know not what it portents to. When I served Vader, I had peers, and rivals. Many of them are dead; most of them, in-fact. But some, some who prayed for Palpatine to return from the grave, they exist still, and I imagine they will continue their vigil of his Empire."

    "The Scepter that Tavion has; it resurfaced quite suddenly on Commenor, in the hands of an unknown collector. She took him and his collection, and as much as I traipsed his abandoned shop, I could never connect with him anymore than snatches of a man. He was a Master of concealing himself; I did not even sense him aboard the Resurrection, which suggests he is probably dead now."

    A flash in her mind; intuition - a vision.

    "A skull in the prison cell of the Resurrection, belonging to the man who collected Sith artefacts."

    The area seemed to warp, and even Syren would feel it; the sensation that this moment was being repeated, time and time again; a Force deja vu.

    But she would also feel a distinct tug into the cloister, and the door rattled as it rose for her, revealing only shadow.

    Urgency tugged at Lumiya and Syren, but not danger.

    In orbit, however, the shuttles and TIEs began to stream into orbit.

    And then, at very least two presences in the Force laughed out.

    Rasping Voice and Refined Voice were here, fresh from having spent most of the day taunting Ka'rta.

    Lumiya paused. She could feel herself dislocate, and could head inward, or allow herself to slip. She grew concerned that Syren, who was less grounded in the Force than her, even moreso less aware of the vagaries of a Sith tombworld, would be curious enough to reach into the miasma and allow whatever vision she saw to occur.

    The Dark Lady went to speak, but suddenly felt her throat constricted.

    Syren would have to figure it out on her own; whether to follow the tug; whether to let herself flow into whatever the world was trying to show her; to respond to the laugh of laughs of laughs.

    TAG: @QueenSabe7
    ---
    Roughly equidistant between the Cloister and the Tomb

    The ship went down.

    Hard.

    Well, relatively hard.

    Not hard enough to blow up unceremoniously.

    Hard enough to rip them from their seats, or, rather their seats from the ground.

    To hurl the dead trooper and Tavion's personal effects into the cockpit and the body through the front viewport.

    To dislocate Rouser's shoulder; an incredible pain would fill the joint.

    To bloody Feyna's head; a concussion would form.

    But they were down.

    Laughs surrounded them.

    Refined Voice and Rasping Voice.

    These two seemed to be enjoying tormenting them all.

    The shuttle had smashed into a tomb entrance in the Valley of the Dark Lords, a very helpful readout would tell them. The rear ramp spilled open, before falling off entirely, rebounding down a set of steps that led into the valley main. Sensors, if consulted, would reveal a wave of life forms, all of varying sizes, and a small invading army rushing towards the Tomb of Marka Ragnos.

    The location of the shuttles original target was not far from here, either.

    If Rouser was awake enough, he would recognize the tomb as belonging to Tulak Hord, a renowned Dark Lord of the Sith from two thousand years before the time of Marka Ragnos. In theory, they could climb out the front of the shuttle into the said tomb, but the howling was coming from the tomb...

    TAG: @JediMasterAnne, @Jerjerrod-Lennox
     
    Last edited: Dec 6, 2019
  3. Jerjerrod-Lennox

    Jerjerrod-Lennox Jedi Grand Master star 7

    Registered:
    Mar 9, 2005
    IC: Pascale Rouser
    Location: Tavion’s shuttle, Korriban


    Ow….

    That was Pascale’s thought as the shuttle crashed hard into Korriban. Feyna had done well not to plaster them both within the Valley. Pascale along with Feyna had been roughly hurled from their seats and had been given a rather rough landing. He growled as he felt his shoulder pop out and dislocate. He would have to get that sorted if he needed to wield any weapons. He also felt like his head had taken a whack but he was awake enough to take a look at the now smashed shuttle.

    The trooper went flying out and within the now ruined cockpit was some of Tavion’s bits and bobs. Some of her more skimpy offerings by the looks of it as well as some other things. They would be of no use unless Feyna wanted to play dress up.

    Feyna looked like she had come off worse, she was injured with a head wound and no doubt thanks to the landing had one thumping headache. Rouser would have to find a medkit and try and patch her up, hopefully he could be able to do it with only one hand.

    Luckily the sensors and some other bits and pieces were working still, he quickly consulted them before going to retrieve the medpack. Oh great, a horde going towards the Tomb of Ragnos, we are parked inside another Sith tomb, we are not far from the Cloister either and this shuttle is rather bashed to bits. A no win situation, I hate those. And from the tomb in front of them were howling noises. Fantastic.

    What also wasn't helping was a couple of voices had decided to join the fun and were now tormenting him, he responded with a rather impolite thought of SHUT UP.

    As the shuttle decided it would disintegrate itself by the rear ramp falling completely off Pascale stood up shakily and wandered around looking for the medkit. Eventually digging through the debris he found it and brought it back to the cockpit. He gently began to try and clean her wound.

    “I don’t know if you are awake in there, but I congratulate you for getting us down, perhaps a little rougher than expected” he chuckled, “You have suffered a head wound and unfortunately I have dislocated my shoulder, might need you to pop that back in” he smiled at that.

    “Well we are here on Korriban, however we have a problem, well a couple actually. We have a rather big posse of people heading to the Tomb of Ragnos, looks like Tavion and her folks have arrived I would guess. The Cloister is not far away from here either, the one which was marked with an X. I couldn't see if anyone was going there either. However we seem to have parked up in another Sith tomb, this one of Tulak Hord, known as the Lord of Hate and the Master of the Gathering Darkness” he snorted “Charming”.

    “His tomb was built by his loyal followers after his death and rumour has it that there are many traps inside to scare away any looters. And unfortunately there are some rather nasty howling noises coming from there so I wouldn't want to go in there, unless you want to get mauled by some nasty beasts. I don’t know where you want to go, but I will follow you and look after you as I said before. We have to stick together to get through this”

    He was probably talking to himself, but it was better than nothing.

    TAG: @JediMasterAnne , @Sinrebirth
     
    Sinrebirth likes this.
  4. galactic-vagabond422

    galactic-vagabond422 Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 11, 2009
    IC Ka'rta
    Korriban

    A slight smirk came to Ka'rta's face as the voices turned away in disgust. She wasn't dying this day. She finally got them to shut up their snide comments their constant goading, she would be better without them. Now without their distractions she could focus more now on Kenix and what he was saying.

    "Sorry to wax, but how you're handling this so well is almost as scary of this place."

    "Just accept that nothing in this place is real and you're ok." She said somewhat off handedly. "We have a job to do, focus on that, keeps your head clear." Sure she was hiding a lot. She didn't understand and was annoyed and put off by everything going on around her, but her anger and knowledge that there was a job to do kept her pushing forward kept her from listening to the voices that tried to push her, tried to get her to be stupid.

    A voice boomed from behind her her hand reached towards her weapons instantly.

    "She will be with you shortly. With my Scepter, loaded with the collected Force essences of a dozen sites. When she arrives, you will defend my tomb to the last man and woman."

    She turned to the aperishion tightening her hand a little as a shiver ran up her spine. The voice more forceful and ringing in her mind. Keeping her composure though one could see subtle tension rising in her muscles.

    "Understood."

    Kenix looked to her and she turned to him lowering her brow thankful that her helmet hid the beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

    "Yeah, but what are we facing and how much ground can we give up...make whoever is coming pay for each bloody centimeter." Her heart was still beating in her chest thought she was trying to keep a waver out of her voice. In the back of her mind she wondered what she was doing here anyway. Though she didn't know if she quiet wanted die for this cause...though what was she going to die for...she nearly did already.

    The power in the voice had quieted her usual gruff nature, softened that edge she would have used to cut her clients with.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
    Last edited: Dec 19, 2019
    Jerjerrod-Lennox likes this.
  5. JediMasterAnne

    JediMasterAnne Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 24, 2004
    IC: Feyna Morrow
    Crash site, Between the Cloister and the Tomb, what’s left of Tavion’s personal shuttle

    She’d known it would be an ugly landing, and at least they hadn’t blown up on impact, but it was still worse than she’d hoped.

    Something hit her head as the chair ripped out of the floor, and she must have blacked out.

    When she started to come ‘round again, she could hear Rouser speaking, but her head hurt so much, it was hard to concentrate on what he was saying. Once she was able to focus, she realized that he was trying to clean up the wound on her head, albeit with only one functioning hand; his other arm hung awkwardly at his side, and she thought she heard him say it was dislocated.

    “…I don’t know where you want to go, but I will follow you and look after you as I said before. We have to stick together to get through this,” Rouser said as he finished cleaning her up. Feyna carefully sat up, taking stock of their situation while she waited for her head to stop spinning.

    They’d crashed in a crypt; not the Tomb that Tavion was after, though they weren’t far, nor was the Cloister, but there was apparently something other than a dead Sith in Hord’s tomb—several noisy, howling somethings. They’d have to deal with that to get out, but they needed to figure out where they were going, first, and considering that they were both injured, she didn’t much like their options.

    Finally; “Let’s find some weapons first, we’re gonna need them wherever we decide to go, and see if we can find my comlink.” It had gone flying in the crash; hopefully it still worked. “I want to call Drayson and touch base with him.”

    TAG: @Jerjerrod-Lennox @Sinrebirth
     
    Jerjerrod-Lennox likes this.
  6. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 RPF Awards Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    IC: Qi’ra/Syren
    The Cloister of XoXaan

    Pulling on a pair of slacks and a nondescript tunic, both of darker hues and sporadically splattered with blood, Syren quickly stepped into her boots without lacing them as Lumiya resumed control of their craft. The shuttle guided them down through the planet’s atmosphere, eventually the surface speeding into view.

    "Syren, you need to make yourself strong in the Force; a wall, before this world consumes you whole,” her Master urged, to which she obeyed.

    Her eyes zeroed in on their destination as it came up at them from the horizon – a random collection of stones surrounded by nothing but a vast stretch of land. They were ancient in appearance and partially disintegrated by the winds of change and time. The held great significance, however, her senses told her as much. Only using the meager skills she had, the curious Sith Apprentice grasped onto the sight with her focus and her thoughts just as she could intone the rising tide of darkness working its shadowy fingers into her consciousness. That ‘wall’ Lumiya instructed she’d need did not require an explanation, the stagnant power here easily swallowing her mind whole if she had been any less strong than she was now.

    Holding onto this barrier throughout their final approach and landing, Syren followed the Sith Lord out into the wastes of Korriban. The pair stood at the bottom of the ship’s ramp and she could feel Lumiya struggle to understand a few hidden mysteries about their journey. She listened perceptively, if not understanding entirely.

    "A skull in the prison cell of the Resurrection, belonging to the man who collected Sith artefacts."

    Syren’s brow furrowed, stepping in closer to her Master. “Did you see something?”

    She wouldn’t hear an answer even if Lumiya could give it – something did change and suddenly. The air, the ground, the Force, time… it was all of it. There was a pressure throughout her body that pushed deep into the recesses of her mind. A flash of thought and her eyes darted about, conjuring a familiar feeling about this very moment but unable to explain why or how.

    A Voice laughed out from nothing, two Voices, and Syren started to feel dizzy. “What was that?” she asked her Master, but taking one tipsy look at the other woman told her she might experiencing the same, like she was not fully attached to reality any longer.

    The laughter continued, and with it she felt an ethereal tug – an unseen presence brushing at the back of her mind, beckoning her to fall in on herself, down into the fabric of the Force that bound this place. She shook her head, refusing weakly, only to stumble a step. “I feel… strange…” she whispered, though she could not sense fear in her spiking emotions.

    There was intrigue. A desire.

    Also a lack of knowledge in order to resist.

    Without actually making a hard-line choice, Syren simply allowed the pull to take her the next time it tried. The echoes of disembodied chuckles following her as she fell.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
  7. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    OOC: The following is a combo post with TheSilentInfluence and Sinrebirth – thank you so much! :D

    IC: Madelyn Linnett, Aryan Graul, The Foreteller, Voren
    Escaping from the Resurrection, above Korriban

    It had seemed a little too easy, how Madelyn was able to make it to the hanger in one piece. She was nervous, and knew once she hit the ground she would feel a little better, Less trapped. But Madelyn felt something off when she reached the shuttle.

    She turned and could see a disheveled man through the force, and slowly made her way towards the box he was kept in, reaching out; only slightly with her senses. [Who's in there? Is he on our side?]

    Much like Linnett, Aryan found himself pondering very similar questions – he didn’t know who to trust and or where to turn, especially after witnessing his son’s betrayal. In some ways, perhaps he was even confused by the circumstances surrounding his current predicament. This feeling was only compounded when the young woman made her approach. He had expected Tavion to return to finish what she had begun, so he was naturally wary of a stranger in his midst.

    Squinting against the light streaming down from above, Aryan practically collapsed to the deckplates in a pitiful state upon his release, seemingly too weak to hold himself up under his own weight. As he sunk to his knees, he reflexively held the Holocron in a protective embrace to prevent it from slipping out of his jacket. It was in this vulnerable position that he finally took note of his prison and winced; he hadn’t realized that Tavion had confined him to a literal box. This discovery caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably, though he forced himself to redirect his attention to the woman standing nearby.

    “You’re not with her,” he stated plainly, angling his chin up to scrutinize her under a careful eye. “She controls who has access, and you don’t strike me as one of her loyal followers. You…feel different. Still dark, but not as tainted.”

    Pressing his lips together, Aryan canted his head to the side thoughtfully. Who are you?”

    The Foreteller seemed to smile. [Found one.]

    Voren didn’t. [He feels different in the Force; but he’s not a Disciple - not a plant.]

    [Dark can sense different darks, eh?]

    [Shush.]

    The Foreteller shrugged inside Linnett’s mind. [There’s nothing telling us not to trust him, and he is a prisoner... sure he’ll have his secrets, but who doesn’t?]

    [That's true. We can bring him along for now.]

    Madelyn gave the man a once over before she answered. "I'm Madelyn Linnett. I'm an Emperors Hand." She flushed a bit and nodded to him. "I'll get you out of there. But..." Madelyn paused, pursed her lips. "...you'll also be coming with me off this awful ship." Madelyn added, "I'd like to know who you are first." She started examining the box to see how she could open it undetected.

    [It’s open, Dark Jedi Linnett,] Foreteller teased. Voren didn’t embellish, Linnett would sense he was peering elsewhere to keep an eye on their surroundings.

    Attention was crawling their way.

    [We need to go,] Voren said to her.

    [Whoops.]

    Madelyn felt embarrassed and opened the box. She realised time was of the essence. Madelyn reached inside and grabbed the man’s hand, pulling him outside. "We need to leave. Now."

    Things were moving too quickly for Aryan’s liking. He found it odd that the woman would appear wary of him one minute, but then insist on rushing him to safety in the next. She hadn't even afforded him a moment to answer her question about who he was. It made him doubt her motivations for rescuing him, especially since she identified herself as an Emperor’s Hand. That was why he visibly flinched and hesitated when she snatched his hand.

    And yet, what other choice did he have? She had freed him from his prison – freed him from Tavion.

    “Aryan Graul,” he uttered against his better judgment, his voice hoarse and barely recognizable as his own. He also managed to stagger to his feet, though he was still unstable and swayed precariously. “I served in the Senate several years ago, but--well, I guess that’s not important.” A rueful grin touched his lips as he shook his head slowly.

    “Why are you doing this?” he continued after an awkward pause, his blue-gray eyes shifting to study her curiously. “Helping me, I mean.”

    Madelyn realised that she must seem foolish, trying to rush him away and slowed down a little. But it had been so long since she had interacted with another physically living being.

    "Tavion tried to kill me." Madelyn pointed out, the grip on his hand tightened as he swayed. "I know most people...they don't trust Hands. But I know you don't want to return to Tavion's grasp." Madelyn stopped and then asked, "We need to leave. Please let me help you."

    Aryan furrowed his brow, her words triggering a recent memory from his arrival aboard the Resurrection – he could recall the Disciples gathered around Tavion as she revealed two prisoners in their midst. The Sith woman then lifted her Sceptre to conduct a Force ritual of some kind, but Aryan had turned away before he could witness its effects. Even then, he was still able to connect the dots and form a narrative in his mind – it all made sense now.

    “You were in the hangar,” Aryan stated with a sobering expression. “One of the prisoners Tavion touted around in front of her congregation...and you survived the experience.” He was genuinely surprised at that revelation, though he did not push the issue. If she was resilient enough to escape and reach a position where she could free others, he wasn’t going to argue. Despite being an Emperor’s Hand, they now had a common goal. That was good enough for him.

    Aryan even briefly considered telling her about Arek’s involvement, but ultimately decided against it. That wound was still fresh. It pained him that this woman – this stranger – had stepped up to offer him assistance where his own son had failed.

    No. He had refused, he reminded himself wearily.

    Inhaling deeply to push that thought from his mind, Aryan refocused his attention on the matter at hand and nodded slowly. “Fine,” he finally relented, clenching his jaw to tighten his resolve. “I hope you have a plan.”

    "I had help." Madelyn answered bashfully. [I don't think I need to tell you the details though.] "Tavion is strong, but if we encounter her again stay behind me."

    Madelyn winked at him at the mention of a plan. "I always have a plan." She smiled a little, and felt his wariness through the force. "Let's take a little flight shall we?" She turned and began to lead him away from the crate, reaching out to Foreteller and Voren.

    [We need to leave as quickly as possible. Is that shuttle still clear?]

    Voren replied first. [All clear.]

    Foreteller huffed that he had been beaten to the punch. [Yeah, all clear.]

    [Thanks.] Madelyn thought back. And she helped Aryan onto the shuttle and onto a seat. She closed the ramp behind them and turned toward him again, wondering if she could help him in any way before they took off.

    Aryan withdrew into himself and remained fairly reticent as his rescuer, this Emperor’s Hand, led him to the shuttle and what she perceived as safety. Of course, under their newfound partnership, he had no reason to doubt her, but he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that stirred his vexation. He knew it was this place itself and what it represented; what Tavion had put him through and still intended to carry out. It washed over his senses with an aura of foreboding.

    They had to move quickly if they wanted a chance. Tavion would not remain unaware for long.

    Settling down in the seat after Linnett had generously lent him support, Aryan canted his head and watched her make the preparations for the launch. He remembered her assertion that she had formulated a plan for their escape and decided to use that to spur her progress.

    “So, about this plan of yours,” he drawled with his brow raised curiously. “Where are you taking us?” His voice sounded tense to his own ears, but he chalked that up to the urgency, and perhaps the thrill, of his impending freedom. "Did you dial in a destination?"

    The Foreteller's cloaked face drifted over the displays, insofar as much as Voren was staring at Aryan. [His Force feels strange, Linnett. Be careful. It's not... normal. It's... borrowed.]

    [An echo,] the Foreteller said, absently. [The shuttle is locked into a course on Korriban, so we can only go, or go. The coordinates are secret... they were keyed in by Tavion herself.]

    For a moment, the shadow of Tavion, a past moment, became evident, as the Foreteller swept a hand. She was even visible to Aryan, and for a brief moment so too were the ghosts hovering above her. A Force power, showing the imprint of recent events, they all understood, though Aryan would think Linnett had done it.

    There was excitement building in Foreteller.

    Madelyn looked back Aryan with curiosity. [Do you think she tried to turn him into a Force-sensitive then? Is that possible?] She smiled at his question. "We're going to the surface of Korriban first. I need to gather information for a research project I've been studying." Madelyn turned away for a moment as the shuttle took off for the surface of Korriban.

    "After that, we can steal another ship and go wherever the New Republic won't find us." Madelyn turned back to Aryan, before pulling out her Book of Sith from her bag and holding it in her lap. "You should rest for a bit. When we get to the surface, you should stay close to me."

    The afterimage of Tavion and the two mysterious specters left a vivid impression on Aryan’s awareness.

    Had they been real or simply figments of his imagination?

    While it was possible for someone of Linnett’s talents to project such a striking illusion, he found it strange that she did not react to it either way. That made this incident all the more concerning. For the first time since his incarceration, Aryan had to wonder if the physical and mental abuse he had sustained under Tavion’s watch was beginning to take a toll on his psyche. Was he hallucinating?

    That question rolled around inside his mind as he stared blankly at the forward viewport, his gaze focused on the spot where the apparitions had been, seeing but not really perceiving the reality that stretched out before his very eyes. He was only mildly aware of the sound of Linnett’s voice as she recommended that he rest.

    Rest.

    Yes, that would probably help to clear his head.

    Aryan was about to comply with her wishes by offering a small nod, but then he recalled what she had said about heading to the surface of Korriban – straight into the gundark’s nest. That snapped him out of his stupor and he leaned forward, his hand closing around the back of the pilot’s chair in a white-knuckled grip.

    “Under the circumstances, I think your research project can wait,” Aryan grumbled testily, his chin dipping slightly to regard her with a disapproving look. “Going to the surface is a death wish, especially since that’s what Tavion probably wants us to do. She’ll be waiting.”

    He idly noted the worn, leather-bound book resting in her lap, though he resisted the urge to draw attention to it. With her apparent fascination with Korriban itself, he could only guess at its origins and what dark secrets it had hidden within its pages. That thought made him increasingly more uneasy.

    “Look, we can head back to Nubia,” he suggested with growing consternation. “There’s a bunker in the mountains behind my facility where you can hold up and conduct your research until the conflict passes. The New Republic has lost most of its prior influence over that region, so you’ll be safe.”

    But as the silence stretched on, Aryan had a sinking feeling that Linnett wasn’t about to waver on her decision. They were going to Korriban, whether he approved or not.

    "Kriff it."

    TAG: @TheSilentInfluence; @Sinrebirth
     
    Jerjerrod-Lennox likes this.
  8. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Immortal Mod-King of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 8 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004


    OOC:
    This is a post which has multiple scenes to one narrative; reading it all is not necessary but it will provide a full picture. But basically... you've made it to the Battle of Korriban. Good luck, eh?

    Star Wars: KotoR II: Korriban Battle Music

    youtube.com/watch?v=YRMwJe7kbvk

    IC: The Foreteller

    Shuttle, Korriban orbit, going down

    The ship was locked in, and it launched shortly after Aryan's protestation; the flagship had arrived in the Korriban system - to reclaim the Sith homeworld.

    As they spilled into orbit beside TIE fighters, the Imperial-class Star Destroyer Resurrection was evident, and shuttles were launching carrying a horde of Disciples of Ragnos; the Sith unleashed. In the Force, their shouts of rage, jubilation, madness and even fear resonated around them, hammering at Linnett and Aryan, whose sensitivity was increasing to such things; while Syren had training from her master, Lumiya, Aryan had none, and it would crash into his psyche.

    But Linnett would sense the damage it could inflict, and Voren commented upon it. "He'll need help if he is to survive this."

    The Foreteller lamented. "Let alone Korriban itself."

    The homeworld of the Sith was a dark side marvel; an indelible wound upon the Force, an intermingling of millions of Sith over the millennia, leaving their impression upon the sandy world.

    Then a burst of light filled the Force, and the Foreteller grinned, and Voren winced.

    Something else had followed the Resurrection to Korriban.

    TAG: @TheSilentInfluence, @HanSolo29
    ---

    The Cloister of XoXaan

    The Force rose up around Syren, and she found herself transformed. There was something unearthly about this place, and this time. She would instinctively know that she was somewhere beyond this point, and indeed, she was standing at a feast table, surrounded by joviality and the success. There were darknesses here, many of them, dozens of black-cloaked and robed men and women, and a single person-shaped corpse hanging from a rope above them all; it was covered up, as if a party surprise to be revealed later.

    At the head of the table were three; all humanoid.

    A woman and two men, and amongst the chatter was the dolling out of planets in victory; Coruscant had just fallen to them, and they had defended Korriban from an enemy Pantheon of some kind. The Sith gathered were a deeply curious gathering; a Zabrak, a looming Ssi-Ruuvi, humans of all skin colour and even chalk white and blue, a Wookiee, an Ithorian, usually a peace loving species, and a toast. A canoodling couple there, a pairings of females here and there, clearly masters and apprentices - and was that a man in Jedi robes in the corner? It was... and another man, in the robes of office more traditionally associated with a politician. There were other Sith too; a snivelling voice rippling out, cutting across the discussion as if a dragon sniping.

    Rasping Voice.

    Without further ado the Emperor at the head of the table levitated a goblet of wine to his hand. Inlaid with green jewels, the golden vessel looked oversized, but it served its purpose. He raised the drink. 'To the Empire.' With a swig, he indicated with it. 'Please, be seated.'

    There was a rustling and an exertion in the Force somewhere that tugged the seat from beneath his new apprentices backside the moment she sought to sit. The speaker paid it no heed. Hazing was deliberate; it was not as if the entire Sith Order was present.

    With a maniacal grin, the man smiled to them all. 'Let us begin!'

    Drink and revelry flowed forth, and Syren would notice one woman in particular amongst it all.

    She, too, was addressed as Darth Syren.

    Was she seeing the future? Or, perhaps, a potential one?

    TAG: @QueenSabe7

    https://boards.theforce.net/threads/the-new-sith-trials-voted-best-rpg-summer-2016.50038164/page-37


    Post 925
    ---

    Closer to the Cloister than the Tomb of Marka Ragnos, Valley of the Dark Lords, in the front of the Tomb of Tulak Hord

    “…I don’t know where you want to go, but I will follow you and look after you as I said before. We have to stick together to get through this,”
    Rouser had said as he finished cleaning her up. Feyna had carefully sat up, taking stock of their situation while she waited for her head to stop spinning.

    “Let’s find some weapons first, we’re gonna need them wherever we decide to go, and see if we can find my comlink.”
    It had gone flying in the crash; Feyna had realised. “I want to call Drayson and touch base with him.”

    Feyna would be able to find it with some ease; it was near her. Similarly, their blasters had skittered to the floor near the open cockpit; the depths of darkness and the noises echoed from deeper in the tomb of Tulak Hord; they were getting closer. The ramp to the shuttle dropped off it's hinges, revealing the way out.

    Her comlink activated, revealing it's location wedged into a groove in the floor, which caused it to automatically accept the call. "This is Drayson; we're en route, Feyna, the Jedi are closer so they are coming first to stop Tavion. If you can hear this; stay out of the battle - you've done your part. The military will finish things off when we reach you. Find some safe cover and stay put until we can evacuate you."

    The noises in the tomb turned into a growl, and bounding towards them, evident ever so-slightly in the sunlight, was a tukata hound, disturbed by their crash. It was too large to leap into the ship via the broken cockpit screen, but it was going to give the shuttle a hard shove when it slammed into it.

    The Tomb did not fall under any definition of safe cover.

    TAG: @JediMasterAnne, @Jerjerrod-Lennox
    ---
    Tomb of Marka Ragnos, Valley of the Dark Lords

    "Yeah, but what are we facing and how much ground can we give up...make whoever is coming pay for each bloody centimeter."
    Ragnos could feel her heart was still beating in her chest though she was trying to keep a waver out of her voice. She wondered what she was doing here anyway. Though she didn't know if she quite wanted die for this cause...

    She had been cowed by his voice.

    Marka Ragnos approved.

    Comms told them all that they needed to know; the Disciples of Ragnos had arrived. Sentan Moor had been shot down by an intruder, and was understood to be dead; another shuttle, supposedly carrying Tavion, had also crashed landed somewhere else in the Valley - in the direction that Ka'rta had chosen not to take during the skirmish with the tuk'ata.

    "My apprentice is not dead; there was rogues at work. Ones you need not trifle with." A spectral hand caressed her chin; but he pulled it back before she bit; he could sense reserves of strength, and Ragnos approved.

    The others were completely terrified, and then, the spirit looked up.

    "They have found us."

    Reports rushed in; dozens one or two-man fighters and transports were rushing into the system; the Star Destroyer was opening fire but every ship managed to get by them, wiping out a sizeable contingent of the TIE fighters and slowly Stormtrooper transports along the way without any casualties. There was not a common ship among the new arrivals, but a red-painted X-wing led the way.

    It's call-sign was Red 5.

    Luke Skywalker and his New Jedi Order.

    Ragnos snarled. "Secure the entrance to the Tomb; the Disciples are on the way but the Jedi may attempt to cut-off the Disciples as they advance upon here; they are Sith; specific assaults like commandos are known for are not their specialty..." Ragnos knew how to command troops, and as the Sun Guard began to shift to go - perhaps even to flee from Ragnos, he lifted a clawed hand. "Ten thousand credits bonus to every man who kills a Jedi."

    He laughed to himself as he said those words.

    TAG: @galactic-vagabond422
    ---
    Descending to the Valley

    Tavion glowered as her second shuttle headed to the surface. Ships had been stolen from the Resurrection and Sentan, head of Czerka, was now missing, crashed somewhere in the Valley. She would have to secure him... but the Jedi had arrived, and a full battle was beginning.

    As it should she thought, grinning darkly. Light against Dark; winner take all.

    Allowing herself to follow the connection, she sensed the Dark Jedi that she had killed in the prison block was alive, and she hissed. But, she was present with the Echo, and so all was good; the shuttle they had commandeered was going exactly where she wanted Aryan Graul to go. Pascale Rouser, too, but he was -

    Oh.

    How useful.

    There was another Echo present, and Tavion grinned.

    The true plans at the secret heart of the Disciples of Ragnos were coming to fruition.

    The Second Imperium would be complete even as she resurrected Marka Ragnos to destroy the Jedi.

    Her shuttle headed straight for the tomb entrance, a quartet of Stormtroopers ready to assist. Across the Valley, her Disciples were settling down to secure tactical points. With her ship so close to the sandy surface, the Jedi ships would not detect her; nor would they be able to use their Force powers to locate a specific tomb - but she had her Master's spirit to follow, and she reached out, allowing her dark, dark, dark presence to brush the Sun Guard's minds and send a chill down all their spines.

    Because why not.

    The Sith were coming.

    Even her allies should know to fear her.

    TAG: @QueenSabe7, @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @galactic-vagabond422, @JediMasterAnne, @HanSolo29
    ---

    The Cloister

    Lumiya followed her own thoughts forward, conscious that Syren had vanished into the Force.

    Something, or rather, someone - or even, someones, had separated them.

    Drawing her lightwhip but not igniting it, she spoke into the darkness inside the Cloister of XoXaan.

    The Old Man's Home, as it was called in secretive Intelligence dispatches, all those years ago.

    Lumiya refused to be intimidated by the darkness within darkness within darkness that permeated the very heart of the cloister. She spoke - strong, hard, and threw her voice into those shadowy depths.

    "Palpatine is dead; I killed him. It was my design that did that; my conspiracy poisoned his clones and he died."

    A crimson lightsaber ignited in the black.

    Refined Voice.

    "You should not have come."

    And then another blade ignited.

    Rasping Voice.

    "Traitor."

    Lumiya sneered back.

    "Heretics. There can only be Two - and I already have an apprentice."

    She ignited her lightwhip.

    TAG: No-One
     
    Last edited: Jan 17, 2020 at 2:58 PM