Star Wars STAR WARS: The Road to the Final Episode

Combo with @Sinrebirth - it was such fun, as always! Thank you!

IC: Bellorum
Csilla

Mothers of daughters are daughters of mothers and have remained so, in circles joined to circles, since time began. - Signe Hammer

They supported her, yes. But that support was baggage that weighed heavily on Bell, because this wasn’t who she was. She would do what was expected, but truthfully her heart was empty.

Bell loved her family, but just the word Jedi filled her with unease. It was her secret, and she kept it buried deep. Sybelle was so proud and wanted this path for her daughter, but Bell had so many questions. Why was her mother pressing her into a cult that insisted she sever ties? The Jedi forbid attachments, surely they knew what they were setting her up for.

She stood waiting for Nuru to speak, masking her internal worries about what the future held. Her visions had been bleak, likely clouded by her unhappiness.

Nuru cut across her thoughts. "Happiness is service, for the Chiss. Your parents, your grandparents, they turned the Chaos into Peace and you are poised to reap it all. To become a Syndic, one day, to command respect."

He stepped forward, lightsaber in hand. "Are you not proud of your Family accomplishments?"

"Of who you could yet become?"

Bell grimaced. She had already decided she didn’t like this guy, but it wouldn’t do to let him know that. “I’m surprised you are for having strong family ties, I expected you to pressure me to break ties and have no attachment.” What was really confusing was that he was using guilt… her own mother didn’t use that sort of abuse to persuade Bell. She wouldn’t stand for that.

“I believe I already command respect,” she said, staring Nuru down. “Also, why should I rely on my family’s accomplishments to gain a position? I want to stand on my own, to work for my own place in the galaxy”

Nuru paused; he was clearly not understanding the Chiss woman before him. "So what would be your ideal future, young lady?"

Bell was completely caught off guard, she hadn’t expected Nuru to give a damn about her. Her mouth opened to speak but she shut it quickly when she wasn’t sure if she should answer truthfully.

She stared at him and steadied herself to reply, “I want everything,” she said in an icy tone. “I want the freedom to do what I want, while answering to no one.”

Her eyes narrowed as she continued to speak, “I want only the best, and for credits to never be a concern.” Bellorum realized all those things were nice, but there was more… so much more. It was something that filled an endless ache she felt. She didn’t feel whole, part of her was out of place… or missing all together.

“I want to fall in love, not an immediate rush of passion. No, I want to discover it in someone who I didn’t expect to be the one. He would match me in wit and acumen… it would begin as a spark that burns more brilliant as we discover each other.”

She shuddered and blinked as she snapped out of her reverie.

Nuru smiled at her, softly; a slight quirk to the corner of his mouth… a familiar quirk. For a brief second he turned, and it looked as if shadow had fallen over one of his eyes.

The moment passed, and he stepped back, revealing the shuttle he had taken. “I gift you this, then. A ship to go and find that love.”

Bell moistened her lips and looked from the shuttle to Noru, “I… I just shared with you a summary of what was maybe a daydream or a vision I had, and then you just hand me a ship?”

He acted like it was so easy to just go stumble onto your soulmate. Especially not with her expectations, she didn’t want just anyone.

Could she… should she trust Nuru? Something told her she had to, because this was about her future… the future she wanted.

"Why wouldn't I," Nuru said, drily. "You're not going to be a Jedi Knight," his eyes took in her relatives, standing inside the building, watching through the glass. "You're not going to be a Chiss syndic, either, clearly." He smiled slightly, that jagged grin again. "I just want you to be happy, to be fulfilled, to get what you want - what you deserve."

"It's not as if you'd fall, is it?"

Bellorum looked quickly to the family members, and back to Nuru. “Shouldn’t they be just as happy for me if I’m following my dreams?” She shifted her weight and glanced back at her mother… mother. That word was perplexing, as if it should be meaningful to her, but instead she felt an emptiness. Something felt wrong. “Why is falling a bad thing? Maybe that’s my destiny… a mother should be supportive of her child no matter what.”

Where was the mother daughter bond? There wasn’t a feeling of warmth and fondness? Bell realized the connection she should be feeling wasn’t there. Her eyes filled with tears that were close to spilling down her cheeks, when she turned back to Nuru and said, “I’m needed somewhere else… my life isn’t here.” Now too emotional to keep speaking, she mouthed the words, ‘thank you’ and walked up the boarding ramp without looking back.

“You want to fall?" Nuru frowned. "Oh, I see. It's a matter of perspective. Falling isn't bad, but losing yourself to the dark? That's not good, isn't it?"

Was that a question, or rhetorical. Nuru dramatically let it hang, a very un-Chiss like thing to do. But then again, Nuru wasn't a typical Chiss.

“Oh, sure,” Bell said without turning back to face him, “muddy the water by getting all philosophical on me.” She shook her head saying, “I guess you’d rather I join a cult of monks that forbid basic emotions? I know that’s not what I want.” She shifted her weight, swaying a little, “I want everything, and I don’t want restrictions.”

She slowly turned back to face Nuru, “There’s more… I’m missing something… a part of me. It’s maddening because I know there’s something, no!” She exclaimed. “Someone. It’s someone who should be with me and they’re not.” Bell slowly shook her head, “I feel like there’s a piece of me that’s gone, it was ripped from me, dammit.” She was getting frustrated, why was this person questioning her? That was something too. Bell wasn’t used to anyone questioning her actions or even telling her no. “He was taken from me, and maybe the physical being is gone,” she moistened her lips, “but my visions… and his soul are still part of me.”

Her eyes met Nuru’s and she asked him, “ do you understand that I’m not complete? I must find him, and only then will I be content again.”

Nuru narrowed his eyes. "I wonder if he's looking for you, then?"

He tapped his chin, very non-Jedi, non-Chiss, like, his teeth suddenly almost jagged...

"Would that change your perception of him?"

A smile.

"If he was so engrossed in his perfect world that he didn't even notice you were missing?"

Bellorum’s eyes narrowed, “just who are you?” She demanded, hands fisted at her side. “I happen to know he would notice, what game are you playing?”

It was going to be hard to conceal that Nuru had indeed planted a seed of doubt. “Did you believe this would be my perfect life? Being a loyal Chiss, serving the Chiss?”

Getting angry was the easiest way to try and avoid what now troubled Bell the most. The fact that she was aching for someone, possibly a great love, but had he forgotten her?

This was all so frustrating.

Was it possible she had been injured? Maybe it was a brain injury, and she had been stricken with amnesia? No, she was fairly certain she had not had a brain injury, but she was sure someone she cared about had once been.

Growling she exclaimed, “I hate not knowing why I’m so unsettled and empty.” Nothing was calming the physical ache that was deep in her chest.

The vision became more clear; the man was Arb, and a lifetime of memories swept within her.

"Aryan - Joren - he doesn't even care that you're not there, in his perfect world." A sad smile. "Just choose a different life - a better one, just for you," his voice was soothing. "I'll give it to you. It was easier to build what he wanted - and Dunkeel, too - but I don't know you as well."

He stepped forward. "Ask whatever you want, and I'll give it to you, just like I gave it to them."

Bell’s eyes widened slightly as she moistened her lips to answer. Now she realized her position, it was important to be specific so that Arb didn’t bend her words into a life of his choosing.

“I’d like to know how you can say that Aryan doesn’t care that I’m not there? If you’ve erased me from his memories then he’s probably searching for what someone that he doesn’t realize is missing.” She patted her chest, “he will feel the same emptiness, but he may not realize it’s because you’ve taken me from him.”

Arb had played with their lives, and he was making it sound like he was giving her a wondrous gift of a perfect life. She did not want to change her life… unless it was to have more time with Aryan. If they had discovered each other sooner, that would be nice. But, essentially she just wanted her own life back.

“I don’t want a different life. I want my life back,” she murmured, “I will not be happy unless Aryan and I are together.” We are better together.” Her head tilted so she could look into Arb’s eyes, “I want my husband, Aryan Graul, back.

A slight gesture, and he stood before her, while the rest faded away.

He was frozen, seemingly, caught in a moment from the past.

"Scenery? Setting?"

A snap of a finger, and in his arms appeared a babe, swaddled in arms.

"A child?" Another snap; twins.

"Two?"

“Wait!” Bellorum snapped.

It was difficult to identify the infants inside of the swaddling, which concerned her.

“I said I want to be with my husband,” she swallowed her near panic over the man standing before her, who was possibly holding her children. “As you’re aware, Aryan and I had… have three children.”

She was tempted to take the children from his arms, no matter who they were, they certainly weren’t safe with him.

“I want to return to Aryan and our life, now,” she demanded and took a step closer.

Another snap of a finger, and Arb looked annoyed that he'd forgotten the third kid.

Another one appeared, in the arms of the frozen Aryan, who was juggling.

"Any particular Aryan?" He smiled lightly, as if what he was doing to the mannequin Aryan was minor.

He stepped around the statuette, one elbow in his hand, the other hand on his scarred chin.

Unable to hold back any longer, Bell rushed to the frozen Aryan. Her fingers brushed his cheek as she spoke to Arb, “you need to cease this game at once.” Her demand now more urgent.

“We made mistakes, but Aryan did so much for the galaxy,” her tone wasn’t to the point of pleading yet… but, she was attempting to reason with the unreasonable. “He saved lives and his political acumen is unmatched.
Dammit! He’s important, and I won’t have you undoing his history. So, you stop with the theatrics and give me back MY husband.”

“Your husband, eh?” Arb tapped his chin again. “What if he doesn’t want you? What if he’s so happy in his perfect little existence that he doesn’t need you?”

His hands swept outward in a shrug. “It could be the case, y’know.”

Her patience was nearing its end. “He would want me,” her voice now razor sharp. You don’t understand us, we don’t even fully understand.”

Arb looked to be stalling by repeating the same argument. “I am willing to bet that he would know that I am his, even with you having stolen his memories,” the words were out before she realized she’d said them aloud. What if Arb was right?

No! She couldn’t allow any doubt. If this was real Aryan would recognize her. He would never completely forget Tera and Joren… or Sybelle.

“You’re willing to bet?” Arb said, leaning into the word. “What are you offering?”

There was no question in her mind on what she would wager that her husband wouldn’t forget their love, and that he would always want her. Aryan was her soulmate, and she didn’t use that term lightly. The first time she met Aryan, she’d felt a peaceful contentment in his presence. He could have been her port in any storm, but it was clear at the time that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Bell never forgot that feeling, and she waited. Her patience was rewarded in time, and she wasn’t about to lose him now.

Bellorum had total confidence in Aryan’s love for her. She stared at Arb and answered him. “My life,” she said clearly. “I wager my life that Aryan loves me and will always want only me.”

Arb grinned.

“Accepted.”

He snapped his finger, and her world shadowed as he took her consciousness and the potential of her perfect life away.

Tag: @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29 @Mitth_Fisto

 

OOC: The following is a combo with Sinrebirth — I had a blast, thank you so much!!

IC: Aryan Graul [Joren Graal], Kandri Graul, Natasi Daala, Ike
Hesperidium

His agent had arranged for a discreet landing on a private platform in Eastport. The vessel, a luxury yacht of Corellian design, was fairly nondescript for this sector. With the other wealthy clients that regularly used this terminal, it wasn't supposed to attract any unwanted attention.

But of course, they had underestimated the media’s ability to conduct their own research and uncover the truth about 'high-profile' arrivals.

The public had known for months that Aryan Graul—or Praxon, as some knew him by his stage name—would be coming to Coruscant for the debut of his new play, a black comedy entitled The Coronet Arms. Presented at the Globe Theatre exclusively for a limited engagement, it chronicled the story of a prominent doctor whose life becomes unhinged when his wife kicks him out of the house and forces him to take up residence in the seedy Coronet Arms Hotel. Once he arrives, unexpected encounters with his teenage daughter, a gold-digging hotel employee, a treacherous bartender, and his now-estranged wife punctuate his downward spiral. Revolving around the night of a murder, a mystery unfolds that blurs fact from fiction; the past collides with the present as the elusive truth about the doctor boils to the surface.

Tickets for previews and opening night had sold out quickly. This was the first time Aryan had elected to come to Coruscant for a stage production, and the demand was unprecedented. Everyone wanted an opportunity to catch the A-Lister in the flesh as he performed his craft. Unlike holofilms, which relied heavily on the screen and the magic of the camera to bring a story to life, live theater was a very different experience. It was more engaging and personal. That was undoubtedly part of the appeal and why audiences clamored to secure their seats for each performance.

But despite the hype, the public still didn't know when he would ultimately appear on-world… or so he thought.

The plan was to arrive after dark and rendezvous with his sister, Kandri, who was currently Nubia’s representative in the Galactic Senate. She had made prior arrangements to put him up in a private penthouse in 500 Republica during his stay on Coruscant.

Later that evening, after he settled into his new accommodations, the siblings had reserved a table to dine quietly at a posh restaurant. Aryan hoped the intimate setting would allow them time to discuss the details of the upcoming gala he promised to attend as a favor to boost her non-profit organization. Not only would it benefit her campaign, but it would serve as free promotion for his play.

His agent had assured him that it was a sound strategy not to draw attention to himself, but as he stepped off the landing ramp with travel bags in tow, the white flares of multiple flashbulbs discharging greeted him. Discordant voices added to the bedlam as the photogs shouted his name in an attempt to obtain the perfect shot.

"Aryan!"

"Mr. Graul!"

"Praxon!"

"Over here!"



By flashing the occasional smile, Aryan indulged them on a superficial level, but he did not engage them in conversation. Instead, he pushed ahead without stopping. He valued his privacy, and it was clear that he didn’t want them imposing on this moment.

While he was very cordial with his fans and often made exceptions to interact with them, he didn’t hold the photogs in the same regard. They were vultures; their sole purpose was to expose and ridicule if it led to a breaking news story. Some would argue that they weren’t all contemptible—and Aryan would admit that he had come across some decent individuals over the years—but it was becoming increasingly more difficult to distinguish the good from the bad. It was better not to take any chances.

With one final wave of his hand, Aryan slipped into the waiting speeder and lowered his head until the tinted canopy closed to afford him some privacy.

"So much for sticking to the plan," he muttered to his entourage, which included his personal assistant and a pair of bodyguards. "I thought you had everything under control. No one should’ve known our itinerary."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced out the viewport as the driver pulled out into the traffic lanes. "I hope you at least called ahead to Kandri and let her know that I’m here."

The driver rolled down the window between him and Aryan and the three others; the PA and the two bodyguards.

"Yes, sir," he said, drily, the blonde hair of the man evident under his uniform cap. "I let her know and also that your flight had been intercepted by the photdogs." A common abbreviation of photographer dogs, it nonetheless didn't slip off the tongue in common speech. "My apologies for the parlance, sir, they do drive me crazy."

"Enough, Ike," said the PA, the stunning redhead named Natasi. "We don't need your commentary." She pressed a button and the partition slid back up. Regarding the blackened windows - no vision in, only out - were the two bodyguards, humans that she hadn't felt the need to learn the names of.

"I will find out just how your itinerary was leaked, I promise, and -" A slight beep to his public comlink, which she retained, and she glanced at it, irritated. "Ah. Kandri has rearranged the meeting point; a different hotel altogether... apparently the other itinerary was a fake."

"For your protection," uttered one guard. "Kandri leaked it herself. The press will be taking their shortcuts to the wrong locale, and when we enter the tunnel to switch off another limo will head to the original meeting point with your doubles."

Ike's voice over the internal comms. "You found a double for me?"

The guard looked peeved; he hadn't realised the internal system was active. "Even for you."

"So he's as hot as me?"

In this instance, Aryan was grateful for his tinted shades. They hid his disdain when he rolled his eyes at Ike’s facetious remark. He wasn’t sure where Natasi had found the foppish man, but he had never liked him. It was almost an inborn thought, something he couldn’t quite explain. Everything about him—from the way he conducted himself to the way he spoke—seemed to exasperate him.

Even now, it took all of his willpower to merely tolerate him.

"I believe Natasi already told you to be quiet," Aryan replied tersely, glancing across the cabin for affirmation from his assistant. "We’re not interested in hearing about your vainglorious fantasies, nor do we have the time to entertain them. This isn’t about you, Ike."

Before the man could protest, he swiftly toggled the switch to silence the internal system. It was a relief simply to have some privacy, but he also didn’t want Ike privy to the conversation he intended to have with Natasi. This was more personal, especially since it involved his sister.

"I have to admit Kandri’s plan took some creative ingenuity," Aryan mused with a wry grin, reclining back with one arm draped across the length of the seat. "Maybe it’s all the time she spends in the Senate among sharks. She’s learned to adapt. Who knew my big sister could acquire political acumen and use it so effectively?"

There was a hint of bitterness to his tone, almost as if he didn’t approve of the situation. In truth, it had perturbed him that Kandri had taken it upon herself to change his itinerary without consulting him first. She had denied him control, and he wasn’t too pleased with the outcome. It left him feeling vulnerable.

"Did she at least provide the location for the new rendezvous point?" The grin slowly dissolved into a slight frown. "You know I don’t like flying blind."

"Yes, sir," the guard said. "Hesperidium, the resort moon. We'll be off-world within the hour, while the photdo -" Natasi shot him a glare, and he amended his response. "While the press swarm around Coruscant proper."

Natasi looked back at Aryan. "She'll be there to meet us, or thereabouts - no more than an hour later." A neutral flick of her eyelashes. "So you may have time for a freshen-up beforehand."

The guard turned aside, pretending not to see what Natasi was suggesting.

When Aryan heard the answer, he relaxed and slowly removed the shades from his face, allowing his anger to subside. "Hesperidium," he repeated in a husky baritone, carefully enunciating every syllable as he angled his chin to meet Natasi’s gaze. "Not a bad trade-off. I request a unique experience in the elite towers of 500 Republica and she counters with luxurious accommodations at an all-inclusive resort."

While he was genuinely impressed by Kandri’s resourcefulness, he was too distracted to fully appreciate her efforts. Natasi had spoken to him in a seductive voice that he found alluring. Despite serving as his personal assistant, she was also an attractive woman who knew what she wanted.

Who was he to ignore such a fine specimen? Especially when he had an aching desire, manifesting as a hollow spot in his chest, which he felt obligated to fulfill.

Exhaling softly, Aryan reached over and rested his hand on her thigh, an impish smirk flitting across his lips. "You know I can guarantee an unforgettable experience," he drawled in a sensuous tone. "I certainly know how to overindulge."

He then closed the distance between them and nuzzled against her neck, planting a tender kiss upon her flesh.

The guard was completely oblivious, but at the next corner, excused himself to get out of the limo and sit with Ike, who was as ever a relentless flirt. That gave Natasi and Aryan plenty of privacy while the limo slid inside a private shuttle, and the shuttle, its bay large enough to accommodate the limo, fluttered into orbit and headed towards Hesperidium.

Aryan was so engrossed in the passion of their lovemaking that he was unaware of the passing of time as the transport accelerated toward their destination. Even when they landed and received clearance to disembark, it was another ten or twenty minutes before he finally emerged from the hold.

With his shirt still partially untucked, he descended the ramp by Natasi’s side, idly reaching up to sweep his tousled hair away from his forehead. The sight that greeted him was simply breathtaking. The sanctuary moon was a paradise for those accustomed to lavishing in the luxury of high society. Extensive gardens and grandiose structures that rivaled the most majestic skyscrapers on Coruscant itself encompassed the resort complex for as far as the eye could see. It was truly a delight to behold.

And yet, Aryan hesitated before proceeding across the promenade. Aside from a handful of aides and their droid handlers, the grounds were peaceful. There were no photodogs or fans crowding his personal space in an effort to snap a holo or merely shake his hand. This was what he had wanted; to spend a quiet evening with his sister.

But now that he was alone, another wealthy celebrity among a myriad of others who had sought refuge at the elegant resort over the years, he almost missed the attention. Once again, he became mindful of the void in his chest, signifying a sense of loneliness. It was an odd sensation, and he quickly decided he didn’t like it.

As if on instinct, Aryan reached out for Natasi’s hand and linked it through his arm, drawing her close to his side as he led her toward the hotel’s main lobby.

Kandri was there, looking amused.

"You truly cannot keep your hands off each other, can you?"

And stunning, in a crimson gown.

The staff was absent, a testament to her skills in diverting them.

She indicated absently the limo, which had stopped to release them, and Ike and the bodyguard were now cavorting in the front. The remote in her hand darkened the windows. "Nobody needs to see that," she said, grinning.

Breezing forward, all artifice and pleasantness, she brushed aside Natasi with a knowing look and leaned into a hug with Aryan.

The surreal nature of their meeting caught Aryan by surprise. It had been over a year since he had last seen his sister in the flesh. Between her duties in the Senate and his hectic schedule, which included numerous acting gigs, charity events, and press tours, there simply hadn’t been time to coordinate a mutual date to get together.

But now, as he gazed upon her radiant form, it took him a moment to fully acknowledge that she was real. They had always been close, and maybe that’s why he felt so strongly about this rare occasion. Despite the geographical setting, it was like coming home. As he returned her embrace, he quickly decided that she appeared happy and well; that was all he could ask for.

"It’s been a while," he said as he pulled away, practically beaming. "You know you’ve outdone yourself this time, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. It was a little tense when I found out you altered my itinerary, but," he rocked back on his heels and raised his brow, admiring the view once more, "you have great taste. I approve."

Glancing back at the limo, Aryan scowled at Ike’s antics, though he was grateful when Kandri activated the glass-tinting to obstruct their view. When he felt confident that the foppish man wasn’t going to further interrupt their reunion, he gestured for Natasi to join them.

"I want you to meet Natasi," he introduced her with a sweep of his hand. "Natasi, this is my sister, Senator Kandri Graul of Nubia."

Kandri smiled warmly. "I know all about Natasi, my dear, I did nudge towards you a redhead for your detail." She hooked her arm in her brothers. "I do know your type, after all." She was merely teasing him.

Natasi blushed slightly. "You specifically told me not to -"

"Yes, I did, Natasi, but I know my dear brother, and as Senator, I do need to keep my world's most famous son happy." She winked. "You do keep him happy, yes?"

Her eyes cut to Aryan. "She does, no?"

"I, uh—what?" he stuttered lamely before dissolving into an incredulous scoff. He then disengaged from his sister’s grasp and backpedaled a few paces to put some distance between them.

To say he was upset with Kandri would be an understatement; he was furious. She had confessed to hiring him a prostitute to keep him content—as if he wasn’t capable of choosing his partners or satisfying his own needs. As the youngest child, she had always been overprotective of him, and while he understood and accepted her motherly concern, this incident had gone too far. Not only was it embarrassing, but he found it downright insulting. As a proud man, he could not tolerate such contempt; his relationship with Natasi was essentially a lie.

Aryan’s expression hardened as he inhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand across his chin before gesturing over his shoulder. "Natasi, I think you better join Ike back at the speeder. I’ll call for you if your… services are required." He didn’t dare make eye contact with the wretched woman. Instead, he kept his attention on Kandri, his gaze reflecting his disapproval. "I need to have a brief chat with my sister."

He waited until Natasi retreated out of earshot before gripping Kandri by the arm and leading her toward one of the hotel’s reception rooms. "What the hell was that?" he rasped in a gruff voice. "You hired a young hustler to serve as my personal aide and you didn’t think I would object?"

Natasi, her cheeks as red as her hair - almost - fled, tears in her eyes.

"Such an accomplished actor," Kandri said, drily, and then looked back. "Oh come on, brother. I give you whatever you want, and provide you the balance not to go off the rails. We tried to find a wife for you who could do that, and no woman could disentangle herself from her emotions to not turn into a petty jealous saboteur."

A flash of memory - the ex-wife, Lyz, who had done just that once.

"So that's why you have me, a sister completely immune to your charms, but the perfect match for your boundless confidence and potential. The galaxy is your literal playground, and I just keep your path clear." Her smile was warm, not smug, not all, she knew him. She was completely right. If he'd been handed, say, ultimate power, he would take it and go nuts. In his heart of hearts, even the impressive Aryan Graul knew that.

"So calm down, and accept the fact that you wooed Daala in spite of my exact instructions to not be wooed and you're still immune to Ike." A smile, broad. "We have plenty of business to talk about - your business, your business empire, if you like."

A tease, now. "Emperor Graul always had a good sound to it."

Aryan’s lips parted slightly to suck in a wavering breath, a chill running down the length of his spine. The words were enticing, almost ethereal in his mind. He had often fantasized about obtaining such power, but it was more of a pipe dream that always seemed impossible to fulfill. That’s why he had never attempted to pursue it in a public forum; it was idle ambition born out of a childish desire to prove his worth.

But with Kandri leading the charge, perhaps there was a chance…

Part of him wanted to stay angry at his sister and rant some more about her deceptive practices—especially when a spark of a memory reminded him of another who had wronged him in a similar way; a redhead with an unsound mind—though he found it difficult to maintain his composure. Despite his umbrage, he couldn’t dismiss her evaluation of his personality; she was right, and he knew it. His initial reaction to her proposal served as a testament to that. At this point, there was no more room for argument.

"You give me too much credit," Aryan replied coyly, his expression sobering with a smile. "Although I have to wonder if you’re inevitably referring to yourself." He quirked a brow, scrutinizing her carefully. "You’re the politician, after all. What stake does a holo and stage actor have in such banalities? Don’t I already have everything I’ll ever need? Adoring fans, women flocking to my feet, charisma, more credits than I know what to do with, critical acclaim, a trophy cabinet filled with prestigious awards and other recognitions, an excellent reputation among my peers…"

He trailed off and narrowed his eyes, clearly testing her. He was curious to hear what she had to say.

"As if," she said, drawling slightly from a yokel Corellian from back home. "You can never have too much of that. As long as you’ve someone to tweak your nose, keep you humble, redirect your excesses into kinks, what’s the harm?"

Her face was slightly shadowed as she turned, as if one eye was concealed, but the moment passed. "Come, come, surely there’s nothing more you need?"

"What’s with all the inquiries?" Aryan murmured softly, suspicion rising in his voice. He had noticed the fleeting shadow cross Kandri’s countenance, though he opted not to address it. For the moment, he would merely observe and proceed cautiously. "I feel like you’re grilling me under the hot lights. If I’m not mistaken, you were the one who implied that we should rule over a sovereign power. What more could I possibly want? Aside from something frivolous like immortality, divine insight, or omnipotence? You know how I’ve always had a fascination with the occult. Unfortunately, I was never able to figure out their secrets."

He laughed at his own expense, though it did not help to ease his mind. If anything, the idea of her interrogating him over such matters only compounded his situation. It made him more self-conscious of himself and his surroundings, as if he expected someone to spring a trap and catch him in a very vulnerable position. He knew it was probably his own insecurities, but he couldn’t shake the thought from his head.

And yet, on some level, it also inspired him to stop and genuinely consider her question.

Was there anything more he needed? Anything that he truly desired?

As if on cue, the void in his chest seemed to deepen and widen exponentially, invoking a sense of physical pain—a longing for something or someone he could not immediately identify. Aryan instinctively reached for his heart, clawing feebly at the fabric of his shirt to alleviate his discomfort.

"Maybe I’m just… lonely," he uttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. "Or I need a medic."

"Definitely a medic," his sister said, drily, "or maybe a drink. Depends if you’ve already had too many." As they swept into the hotel, the droid staff activated and handed over glasses.

"We have complete control of their memories. A gift from Senator Treen - complete privacy. I swept for bugs, of course, but the ability to delete the droids' complete record of our visit is most useful." A smile. "Chancellor Fey’lya is about to be hit with a corruption enquiry. There is a great talk that he’ll need to be replaced, even if it’s defeated, he’ll be damaged. There is even debate about special measures to allow the Senate to pick a replacement themselves, without a general election, because obviously the Vice Chancellor, that Chagrian toady, will be tarred with the same corrupt brush."

She handed him a glass. "The Moffs in the upper house, they quite like the idea of having a say on galactic governance, rather than the masses. They’ve never been overly fond of the reforms that brought the Empire back into the Republic, after all, and no Chancellor to date has been worthy enough - human enough - for the Moffs to enact the Naboo laws, and allow a Chancellor to rule for life."

The Naboo had a constitutional monarchy that allowed the population to deem a Queen or King sufficiently capable or worthy that their term limits would be revoked. It had been proposed for the late Queen Amidala but she had turned down the suggestion - and the Reformed Republic had taken it on-board as an appeasement to the Moffs.

Was she suggesting Aryan for Chancellor… and then Emperor?

Aryan slowly brought the glass to his lips and imbibed its contents, savoring the burning sensation as the alcohol traveled down his throat and numbed the persistent ache in his chest. Eventually, as the pain subsided, he began to relax, allowing him to finally let go of his turbulent thoughts.

"I didn’t realize the Republic was in so much turmoil," he noted casually, canting his head to study her features. "But I chalk that up to my own ignorance. Galactic politics is such a foreign concept for someone who doesn’t regularly visit the Capitol. I may catch some HoloNet gossip on occasion, but it’s certainly not dependable."

The wry smirk, coupled with the perceptive gleam in his eye, implied that Aryan knew more than he was willing to share. He was an astute learner; it wasn’t unusual for him to analyze the workings of the galactic government during the late night hours—or early in the morning when sleep eluded him. Naturally, it blossomed into a fascinating hobby.

It also played directly into his aspirations. Kandri likely knew that. Why else would she continue to dangle the carrot in front of his nose?

And yet, things weren’t so straightforward; they never were.

"If I understand your reasoning, how do you intend to overcome the negative perception that depicts all celebrities as insufferable braggarts?" He raised his brow as if to challenge her, doubtful that she would be able to provide a satisfactory answer. "You know what I’m talking about. Whenever someone from the entertainment industry decides to run for office, it attracts bad press. The public regards our political knowledge as naive and uninformed. It’s nothing more than a publicity stunt… which generates animosity. It becomes more about our status than our policies."

Exhaling softly, Aryan took another sip of his bourbon. "Besides, who says I’m ready to abandon my acting career—a very lucrative career, I might add—for something so… futile? Maybe I enjoy stepping into someone else’s shoes and losing myself for a while. It gives me a different outlook on life and the galaxy itself."

Her smile was positively carnivorous. "Because this is your greatest role, my dear brother. The benevolent Emperor, the soft patron of culture, the defender of the masses, the close friend of the nobles, the powerhouse of personality that everyone wants in their corner…"

A sparkle to her eyes. "You are the most well-known face and personality in the galaxy - your sheer talent has made this so. What other politician can claim such a fact? Such a following? A fanbase?"

"You have dominated your field, Aryan - what is next?" She softened her smile and went to clink glasses with him.

A frown crossed Aryan’s features as he angled his chin to regard her proffered hand, the crystal sparkling delicately in the expansive lighting. It was certainly an attractive offer, but as he suspected, her explanation wasn’t sufficient to relieve his doubts.

"You’re talking about subterfuge," he said mildly, the word sounding harsh as it left his lips. "I wouldn’t truly be the Emperor—or Chancellor; I’ll be portraying him. That’s a significant difference, Kandri. It’s a lie… but for what?" He inclined his head slightly, searching her face for answers. "So you can rule? Using me as a pawn while you sit in the shadows and spin a web of intrigue?"

He sighed and swept his hair away from his forehead in exasperation. "You know I can’t accept that. If we follow through with this—and that’s a big ‘if’ at this point, I want a fair chance; it needs to be genuine… purely altruistic. No deception. We do this together, lawfully… or not at all."

Straightening his posture, he began to tilt his glass to meet hers, the action causing the ice cubes to tinkle gently against the sides—but then he hesitated, a wistful smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"But don’t think for one second that I’m going to reject an opportunity to do live theater on Coruscant—the galaxy’s biggest stage." Behind his gaze was a true fire, even as his smile grew to reach his eyes. "You asked what’s next for me? This is it, sister."

Their glasses finally touched.

She met his expression, evenly. "If that’s all you want, my dear Aryan."

A soft smile and Kandri sipped her drink. "Then that is all you will have."

He issued a short laugh, his eyes shining with impish delight. "Oh, don’t confuse my meaning, Senator. If the next step on my career trajectory was a play, this gig would serve as the opening act. As I see it, we can achieve anything if we do this properly… legally."

Stepping forth, Aryan reached out and gently took her hand in his. "You know me, Kandri. We are on the precipice of greatness. I want more than paltry returns at the box office or the thrill of performing at the Globe Theatre—but listen to me orating. I’m sure you know all about acting and how the industry works. You are a politician, after all."

He flashed a knowing grin, his eyes boring into her as if seeking something below the surface. "And while all of that will provide fame and fortune," he continued in a low drawl, "it’s not nearly enough to satisfy the palate of someone who wants… everything."

As if to emphasize his point, Aryan saluted with his glass and downed the rest of his drink.

TAG: @Lady_Belligerent; @Mitth_Fisto; @Sinrebirth

 

The Game Evolved.

It was now in two parts.

Always as intended.

Can't be the Big Bad if you're trapped in here.

Can't be the Balancing Act if you've no stage.

Can't be Changing things if you've picked the wrong time.

Can't be Saving anyone if you can't deal with simple -

Oh?

Yes, the Final Episode leads to Episode XIII, because we always love that number.

Thirteen Ones.

Thirteen Dark Lords.

Or was it a Dyad?

Or a Two?

Or a Three?

Numbers don't really matter to me.

But they matter to you.

Beginnings, endings...

Which one is the other?

Which other is... the one?

All I could tell you is that I love the Between.

Dark and Light, they are lazy. Boring.

We're not talking the perfection of the two, nor the opposition.

We're talking where there is no bad, no traps, no hope, no time...

We're talking about, finally, after the End.

Which is where the Between really is.

Because it's ending the Cosmic Wars.

Twilight cometh.

Let's write the Epitaph of it all, shall we?

 

EN ROUTE TO WHO KNEW

There was a lot to be said for space travel.

Along certain incredibly mathematically rare instances, it could be incredibly fast, even by the standards of travelling faster than light.

These so-called hyperlanes connected the galaxy together in ways that were the bedrock of civilisation.

Cocytus' apprentice knew very well that travel to Kamino would require them heading off the galactic disc, via Rishi, which was all-but off the charts.

Rishi, Kamino and Rothana were essentially apart of the Rishi Maze, though in this time, Rothana was a secret resource locale that the Kuati had hidden from the Galactic Republic. Alecto wondered when her master would seize the ship from the Jedi, and lead them to their former homeworld. They had arrived before the Battle of Naboo, before the Clone Wars ripped the galaxy asunder and the Empire rose up under Palpatine.

Would they sabotage that chain of events?

Ingratiate themselves into it?

She had tried to catch sight of the Jedi, unobtrusive, to perhaps figure out a stratagem.

His voice was deeply arch.

Serious, superior, even.

She hated it; Jedi arrogance.

A curved lightsaber on his belt...

She was glimpsing the cockpit viewport when they suddenly jarred from hyperspace; the Jedi's alarm poured into the Force, and was promptly curtailed into narrowed focus. Alecto peered through the gap in the ceiling, and saw...

A surprise.



TAG: @Darth Cocytus (combo)

 

JAKKU

Somewhen...

The First Darkness did not die so much as decompose, retreating, leaving a vague miasma behind.

It had not been destroyed, no, merely thwarted, yet again.

The Kyber mountain cracked.

A scream ran through them and they suddenly returned to their bodies, which had unceremoniously dropped to the floor in the middle of the their battle Beyond the Shadows. Their flesh and blood forms showed wounds, scars and burns and hollows where they had taken injuries in the battle.

Pain.

Pain rose up within them all.

Within Manticore, Xundel and the form of Aden Kya.

The pain was such that the Sith Lord's insipid spirit had no choice but to retreat, leaving the body behind.

Leaving Azathoth to return to consciousness.

The room was a scattering of crystal and dead bodies and broken consoles.

There were other bodies here, those of acolytes, of murdered mutated clones, some of which appeared to be misshapen versions of Iudex, their old Falleen comrade in arms.

Their memories swept upon them, as if the calamity had unlocked something.

Manticore recalled his travels between times, into the Hundred Years Darkness besides a Ronin lord, as a Nouanese student, betrayed by the Master, as a Miraluka who was consumed by a Darkness, as a monk who was that selfsame Miraluka, albeit between the destruction of Hosnian Prime and the Battle of Exegol...

Xundel, well, he had access to a full gamut of minds and personalities, by way of the Quiet Balance, a reality-hopping entity who governed its own 'verses but was trying to prevent the collapse of the all when - if - this one fell. Indeed, some of his avatars were long gone, and some... were on their way.

Azathoth... well, what could be said of him? The man was no longer as young as he once was.

The place felt wrong, as if their great and tremendous victory was somehow... irrelevant.

It couldn't be, though - they had driven the Shadow of Snoke away...

But of Snoke?

And the Shadow himself?

These three knew better than most that to kill a Snoke was not a victory, it was merely a forestalled execution...

They had a moment to understand their broken selves, for Maz Kanata was still unconscious behind them...

TAG: @greyjedi125, @Shadowsun, @darthbernael with a very side mention of @Silvertough's little rampage in Episode XI
---
IC: Ravijari
The orbiting Celestial blockade

The days became weeks, and would become months.

He knew that they were between moments, but Ravijari, he had been between life and death for twenty five thousand years...

As one of the original Dark Jedi, the Bogan of the Force Wars, he and his kin had fled into deep space after being driven away by the Ashla - by the Jedi - and captured within a Tho Yor, their physical forms lost, their spirits bound to the functions of their prison.

They weren't the first (or even last) dark side spirits to be captured, no.

Indeed, the last Tho Yor was filled some seven thousand years before the current era, during what was known as the Hundred Year Darkness...

The Controller had seized the functions of the Tho Yor again, enacting a trap against the galactic resistance.

But then, there, Ravijari sensed an arrival connected to his old friend Xundel...

An avatar? An echo? A shadow?

He was sensing Bernael and his comrades, Kyp and Adalia...

They hit the gravity wall surrounding the Jakku system and were promptly ejected from hyperspace.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron, @darthbernael (combo as ever)

 

KUAT

IC: Zel

The news spread like wildfire across the galaxy.

Snoke had trapped the Resistance, Imperial Remnant, Jedi and Sith in the Jakku system.

The assaults on the galaxy with the Tho Yor monoliths had been elaborate feints, the race for the Celestial Control signal nothing but bait.

The galaxy had fallen for it.

Everyone knew that Ajan Kloss was now blockaded, the millions of Mon Calamari refugees that had escaped their homeworld now caught again.

Everyone knew that Adumar, the great fortress world that had resisted the First Order, Yuuzhan Vong and Galactic Empire, was in the midst of being abandoned.

And here they were, dressed up for an invasion of Kuat.

Zel took the news in his stride; it didn't change their invasion plans.

Did it?

Marana and Tarkin were in the middle of something; they looked almost like flight risks. Zel bit his tongue, he wasn't going to move against them. Well. Not yet. He was starting to conclude that Jori Atreus was the prize, not the Jensaarai and not Tarkin's political influence over Eriadu...

“It will take some time, but I am sure that I can manage it.” she added “I must not be seen as a conqueror who brings a foreign power. Besides, it is well known that my grandmother managed to forge strong relations with Eriadu.” she smirked slightly. Zel nearly rolled his eyes.

“I will require up to date information of the situation on Kuat.” Jori commanded, she was becoming Kuat of Kuat again. “And will need something to help sweeten the deal. After all, I will be making Kuat a potential target for military reprisal. Our enemies will want to make my homeworld an example of what will happen to anyone who wants to secede. We have to be sure that we will be able to hold on to the planet.”

“And forgive my frankness, but right now we are just an upstart. We need to prove that we can perform.”

He cleared his throat.

Zel regarded Jori. "You want the Kuati to rebel, to give you a mandate for the invasion."

His voice was a little deadpan, if not incredulous.

"So what? We liberate a system, an easy target? We send a speech to enflame the Kuati, and put Snoke on notice we're coming?" Zel looked at the Jensaarai leader. "Or are you proposing a false-flag op, where we send in our pet Sith and we step into 'save' Kuat from them?"

Zel was growing anxious; the Empire would notice their gathering soon enough. They needed to do something.

TAG: @darthbernael, @TheAdmiral (combo)

 

THE NEW DARKNESS

IC: Arb
Pulling Them Back

He'd given them everything they could ever want.

Well, he'd certainly tried.

Joren - Sistros, Aryan - he had been the easiest to create a world for. Vain, venal, disappointing, perhaps, but eternally on the precipice between good and evil until he was good yet again.

Dunkeel - Faya, Soliloquy - he had been surprisingly easy to create a galaxy for, to simply make him so important he had to support, to envelope, to defend. The makings of a benevolent dictator, yes and no.

Braata - Sybelle, Bellorum - she had been a right pain. He didn't know her like Joren and Dunkeel, not at all. Creating her perfect little life had been a pain. He'd failed, but that just sweetened his eventual victory.

The wager.

A snap of his fingers, and they were back in their original bodies.

He clapped his hands, not even noticing that Han had been whisked away in his distraction. He was omnipotent, not omnipresent, come now.

Settling on his throne with a leg crossed, he fluttered his fingers and allowed them to see what each had said and done.

Or, in the case of Aryan, of Praxton, not done.

The realities, however, they still existed. They knew they did, that Arb had simply delicately nudged their fates, and caused three Changes in their respective timelines. Because he could. Because he should. He was the New First, after all.

"So," he said, drawling. "Braata made a pact with me, and you didn't even notice she was missing, Sistros! Not even one iota! You were too caught up with your plans and plays and schemes!" A chortle. "How terrible of you."

He didn't notice, however, that the linkage between Dunkeel and his chosen reality, it brought a hive mind in his essence - into all his essences. He was suddenly able to cogitate points up and down his soul's history. With Soliloquy, with Kazu, a droid of all things, with a suitor, with a merchant broker Gallusian, with a disgraced Jedi...

He became them all, all knowing, all seeing, along his particular timeline.

He became the potential for a dozen Changes.

Meanwhile, Aryan and Bellorum - Sistros and Braata - they were caught in a dyad of betrayal... or were they?

Arb turned his eye to the statues, three of which were open, ready to receive them, and one of which wasn't.

A mild frown, and he turned back to the crisis before them.

Arb was ready for them; he'd simply push them back into their chosen realities if he had to.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @Lady_Belligerent, @HanSolo29

 

IC: Joren Graal [Sistros]
The New World

The reversion back to the present day was disorienting, to say the least. There was no time to reflect on the techniques involved to allow interdimensional travel—something Joren had witnessed before—nor to compose himself after his personal encounter as a famous actor and holostar. For the moment, Arb continued to lord over them, harnessing his Celestial powers to restore their memories. They quickly inundated his mind, granting him knowledge and awareness of the other two realities; the realities his companions had evidently forged to inhabit their perfect lives.

However, from what Joren was able to glean from their individual experiences, everything wasn’t so perfect after all.

Dunkeel had seemingly adopted his Croke heritage before systematically destroying every major population center in the galaxy. Millions dead; complete annihilation. Although it was a timeline away, Joren could still perceive its devastating effects through the Force. It manifested as a sharp tremor that rattled the very foundations of this existence. He gasped and regarded his fellow Protector with regret. It was tragic and truly unsettling how quickly the Chistori had embraced the Darkness.

But where Dunkeel’s reality evoked an ominous foreboding, Bellorum’s was utterly shocking. He wasn’t so much concerned about the events that had transpired—a training exercise conducted by a formidable Chiss warrior—but rather Bell’s refusal to conform and the discovery that led to a potentially ruinous contract.

"You bet your life on my love for you?" Joren asked with disbelief, turning on his heel to gape at Bellorum.

'What the hell were you thinking?' he continued through their bond. 'You know he has no intentions of honoring his word.'

And yet, despite the admonishment, his gaze reflected a hint of admiration. There was something endearing about her decision. It reinforced her faith in their bond; she trusted him to the point where she would forfeit her life for him.

Of course, Arb tried to declare victory, avowing that Joren had failed to notice Bell’s absence in his new reality. For a fleeting moment, he even began to believe those assertions. He recalled Natasi’s advances toward him in the speeder and how he responded by making love to her. Nevertheless, it had felt more like a perfunctory gesture rather than an act of true passion—especially when his sister had perpetrated the situation by allegedly hiring Natasi to serve as his personal escort. Compounded by her odd behavior, he could’ve easily accused Kandri of subterfuge for encouraging such a relationship, though he knew the real reason he had sought companionship was to fill the empty void in his chest. It was only now, after achieving clarity, that he realized what that hollow feeling signified.

It was a vacancy.

Bellorum’s vacancy.

His heart longed for his soulmate, even if he wasn’t aware of its importance at the time. That’s why he had been unable to fulfill his desires. No woman could satisfy him except for Bell… Tera. In that sense, he hadn’t lost the bet at all; he had prevailed.

Exhaling softly, Joren stepped closer to Bell and instinctively rested a hand on his chest, savoring the sensation with renewed purpose. With the other, he pressed Bellorum’s fingers against his palm and offered a reassuring squeeze. It was an affirmation of their love for each other. He was ready to take on the galaxy at her side, and they would begin by refuting Arb’s claim—

—but before he could speak, Dunkeel beat him to the punch and declared the deal null and void.

A sly smirk touched Joren’s lips as he angled his chin to acknowledge the Chistori’s efforts. He then shifted his gaze to Arb, his expression hardening in a show of resolve. "Faya’s correct," he stated in a firm voice. "You didn’t account for the unseen. Braata was always with me; she was in my heart. I felt her presence, even if I wasn’t acutely aware of what I was experiencing. No amount of manipulation will change the truth."

His smile widened.

"You’ve failed."



TAG: @Lady_Belligerent; @Mitth_Fisto; @Sinrebirth

 

Bellorum Graul
Unknown Place in Arb’s Dimension

Being abruptly yanked from one time and place to another did nothing to appease her anger. She glared at Arb, and wondered if his disgusting experiment with their lives had given him the data he wanted.

If Arb had known anything at all about her, he would never have never placed her in Csilla. She wasn’t sure why, but even with her memories taken away, Bellorum had felt uneasy immediately. Deep inside she had felt unworthy of that place.

Where she had felt absolute confidence had been in herself, and following her own intuition. That stubborn resolve was now threatened by the information Arb had now shared.

Bell had not been prepared for Dunkeel’s antics in his perfect life. She was stunned over the utter destruction, and that it seemed to be exactly what he had desired. He had thrived.

Her lips moved, but she was so shocked that maybe her voice failed her. “Shame on you, Dunkeel.” Bell was no fool, and really she shouldn’t have been surprised that his Croke nature had taken over, but it still left her shaken.

“I still embrace you, and I forgive you,” she murmured. “We are each a part of the other, and I accept your mistakes as I accept your triumphs.” Bell hadn’t stopped studying Arb while actually seeing the shared memories. Perhaps it had been an act of unconscious self preservation, but she’d set Joren’s experience quickly aside. It was clear, since they’d been separated, and Aryan had been missing from Arb’s notion of Bellorum’s perfect life, that she and Tera weren't part of his.

She trembled and hated herself for being hesitant, and just as she’d forgiven Dunkeel, she would forgive the man who now stood before her. Bell was vaguely aware that he’d taken her hand, but she was somewhere else.

Seeing another being's memories was liken to watching a holovid from that person’s point of view. It wasn’t foreign to her since the three shared memories, but parts were definitely uncomfortable, mostly parts that she personally didn’t delve into. Bell had always purposely avoided the memories her fellow protectors had of intimate experience with their partners. She didn’t know if they explored her physical relations with Aryan, and she’d rather not know if they had.

Now she was holding her breath as she was seeing Joren immersed into the life of a superstar. He was loved and adored by his fans and he seemed to thrive from being worshiped and adored by his fans.

Maybe there was a similarity to being a well known political figure? Bell now realized what she was subconsciously avoiding. She didn’t want to witness the sexual exploits. From the moment Bell had seen the floozy it was clear. Arb had a whore to entice him.

Bell swallowed back bile that threatened to be released. It was disgusting and she refused to continue witnessing the backseat tryst.

“Did your experiment work, Arb?” She asked. “It didn’t tear us apart, and we aren’t splintered by the temptations you used.”

Finally she looked up into Joren’s eyes and gently squeezed his hand. ’You and I are inseparable, and we cannot be broken by petty games. I will forever be yours, and you mine.’

Bellorum spoke up clearly now. “All Arb has done was solidify our bond, if it was even possible it has only made us closer. He cannot fracture our connection, we remain as one.”

Tag: @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29 @Mitth_Fisto

 

OOC: Comboing with Addie

IC Bernael, Adalia, and Kyp
Jakku, arriving

His mind was a whirlwind of images, feelings, senses, as the ancient Anzati awoke. Through the chamber that sealed him in his bed, he heard the intercom let out that they’d been ripped from hyper as they arrived at Jakku. Bernael sighed, twisting his hand and touching a stud on the end of one strap holding him in place. The chamber returned to its resting place under the bed, the straps coming loose.

With the same echoes of another place sleeting through his head, he shifted, feet landing on the floor. A holo appeared before him, an image of himself, ”Master, the instructions have been followed. However, the preconditions for the protocols have been ended. And something has pulled us into a lockdown of the system. Your companions, however, are kitting themselves out for whatever battle awaits.” it said respectfully before disappearing again.

A low growl escaped him as his head ached when he shook it, the imagery of the battle in the other plane still not settling inside his mind. Standing, supporting himself against the bulkhead he exited his cabin. Down one corridor, he could hear Adalia and Kyp discussing what they should choose from what he’d gathered over the eons. The corner of his lips turned up in a half smile before he made his way silently, needing less and less support of the walls with each step, towards them.

By the time he reached the cargo hold he was fully upright, still wrestling with memories, but ready to return to them. Slipping into the hold, leaning back against the bulkhead with his arms crossed while they were facing one of the lockers, ”You pair…you did notice that something pulled us out of hyper, yes?”

He'd felt his approach, unsure as to why as often he'd not even known when the Anzati was even right behind him. "We did, but this is your ship, so what could we do?" He turned to the man, "run the risk of being killed and eaten? Or worse?"

"That's enough." Adalia said quietly, her hand touching something that had her attention, "feel better B?" She asked as she lifted the item.

”Not really…I just…” Shaking his head, ”Well…to be honest…I was just somewhere else. And…” Another shake of his head, ”We’re at Jakku by the way, not that that helps.”

He saw what Adalia had in her hands, ”Good choice by the way.”

The intercom buzzed, “Master, Jakku is crowded, with…everyone.” it said, almost in his voice.

”I believe we are needed on the surface. Or below it, not sure who we need to meet is above or below still.”

Adding what she'd just picked up to her collection, Adalia turned, "ok, so how do we do that?" Adding, "you look like.......well, you know."

Kyp smiled as he added a simple blaster to his hip.

Shaking his head again, ”I know, I know, but I don’t have a choice, going from fighting the First Darkness to whatever is here.”

Shrugging his shoulders, he tapped the intercom, ”Full cloak, now. Get us moving.”

“Not sure what the threat is, but hopefully that will give us some time.” he told them after lifting his finger from the intercom stud. ”Come on, let's get to the bridge and see what we’re facing.” he said, calmly, before turning and heading there himself.

"Is he ok?" Kyp asked quietly out the side of his mouth.

"No." Adalia said shaking her head, "bit worried he won't be much good for anything when we get down."

"We got this Ads, you know that, and we know Corran and Mirax are there, I doubt they'd let you get hurt." Kyp stated as he checked the weapons he'd managed to hide on his person and grateful for the jacket and pants instead of robes, which he'd not worn in years.

"And you?" She asked curiously.

"Yeah, I've spent too much time being a jerk and making enemies, I suspect Corran would be a 50/50 option on saving me. Come on, better keep up with him, who knows what kind of booby traps this place has got?"

Adalia laughed, "all the good ones, no doubt ones that even catch their namesake."

It was Kyp's turn to laugh at that.

On the bridge, Bernael was leaning over the command chair, looking out at the desert planet. It highlighted what was between Jakku and them. A Tho Yor and a couple One Sith Dragons. That seemed to be getting attached fiercely.

He could hear them approaching the bridge, a soft smile as he could sense that they had a few worries about how he was doing. Straightening, he turned toward the bridge entrance, ”I would enjoy the usual banter but,” he gestured out of the viewscreen at the ships, ”The big one is Celestial tech and this is…the beginning of the End. Banter seems…irrelevant now. And I brought you both to it.”

Kyp stopped to stare, "a what and a couple what's? You forget, I've been out of the loop for a long time now."

Adalia shivered, "I have a bad feeling about this.....End of what?"

”The big dipyramid is what’s called a Tho Yor, ancient, ancient tech built for the Celestials, ancient gods, basically. But, corrupted, being controlled it seems since they seem to be fighting beings I’d say are the rebellion among others. The Dragons, they’re ships run by and controlled by those allied with a group of Sith called the One Sith. Which is a bit odd that they are allies with whoever is controlling the Tho Yor.” he answered Kyp first, since he didn’t really want to answer Adalia’s question.

He paused, staring at the battle before he turned to her, ”The End Adalia, the End of…everything. The final battles between gods, monsters, and mortals. Where the fate of everything will be decided.” he said softly. Touching his brow, ”The first of those, of this major fight, has already happened, that was where I was…”

Kyp swallowed. "Oh."

Adalia held her breath for a moment, "well....ain't that just a turn for the books, what good are our weapons against that? Shouldn't we be home with with our kids if this is it?" Her tone one of disbelief.

Bernael turned away, looking back out of the viewscreen. ”I shouldn’t have come to visit you two. I should have been alone when that happened.” he almost growled out. He almost seemed to slump against the command chair, ”We can’t. I can’t get you back to them, not yet.” A talon flicked out, pointing at the Tho Yor, ”That, and possibly others, have locked Jakku away from hyper. The Fury’s sensors were informing me of that just before you got to the bridge.”

"So are we the audience to the end of the galaxy? That's ......pleasant." Kyp gave his head a shake.

"My children......." Adalia seemed to deflate, the thought of her children dying alone, away from their home and parents sickened her.

Instantly he was at her side, his arm around her. "It's not going to happen Addie, we're gonna do all we can to make sure we see them again."

Moving around to sit in the command chair, ”Not the audience. You two, I, and others, down there…” he waved a hand at the planet, ”have a role to play, outside of what the others here are fighting. And,” he glanced at Adalia, ”Your husband is right, this…this is why I have fought and do fight for what I do and what you have helped me with, over the years.”

Adalia couldn't stand and found herself leaning against Kyp, her knees weak at the prospects.

"What do we have to do?" Kyp asked as he held her close, his past Jedi training told him to stay calm and think logically despite his personal feelings and issues.

Bernael turned his head, looking at them both, the corner of his lips turning up. ”Simple enough, get down there, gather the ‘troops’ as it were, and set out to end the battle here, so that those trapped can do what they do best, be the light that balances out the dark.” he replied, calmly.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @Adalia-Durron

 

OOC: Double Post approved by GM

IC Xundel, Manticore, and more - Fun Combo with Grey and Sinre
Below Jakku

A groan emerged from the greyish imp as Xundel sat up, rubbing his head. It followed the scream of pain as he felt the variety of wounds that criss crossed his body. Reaching out weakly, he called his cane to him, using it to leverage him up further. Fading echoes of those that had come, that had fought beside them in Beyond Shadows, nodded to him, fading further as they returned either to the Balance or to themselves.

He could see where his battle brother was likewise struggling to get up. Groaning again as he turned, his eyes alit on the kyber mountain. From the essence of where they were he knew they’d been returned to the physical plane, meaning that whatever battle they’d fought was now over. A pained snort escaped his lips, knowing that they’d merely driven the First Darkness away, not defeated it.

In his head he could feel the writhing and questioning essences, having been called forth they knew that this was only one of the first of the last battles, now that their foe had a better idea of what the Balance had seeded in this reality. He was struggling to find order in his mind as he heard his battle brother beginning to rose further.

Shuffling slowly over to Manticore, ”We have left…” he felt, even this deep, all the various essences above them, ”...one battle for the soul of the universe, only to find ourselves only meters from another…” he said, holding out one three fingered hand to his friend.

All his life, he had been subjected to pain, the kind of blinding pain that would warp any being's mind. He was a Sith Lord. A Sith Warrior. A being who transformed pain into full, and that fuel fed his power and his hatred. But here and now, the pain he experienced was far beyond any he’d ever been subjected to, for he had never before faced the First Darkness.

It took Manticore far longer than expected for him to come to self-awareness, and even then, the pain was simply paralyzing- his physical body was overwhelmed. He had given too much and much more than he had given was taken.

The zabrak tried to roar in frustration and no sound issued from his blackened lips. Unbidden memories assailed his mind, visions and faces swam in his stream of consciousness. For now, he had to reject them, for he was vulnerable, and that he could not abide.

There was movement near him, which caused him to crank his neck through excruciating pain. His bleary eyes made out the form of Xundel. After a quick scan, several other forms became apparent. Memory churned once again, in the force, he felt it- yet another battle raged.

Had they not defeated Snoke?

There had been no ‘Change’, so the answer was plain.

Finally, Manticore felt himself grunt. He needed to perform ‘Dark Side healing’, but the choices before him were few, for nearly all around him were dead. For a split second, the Dark Side tempted him with certain prone and helpless targets, but Manticore’s was no one’s puppet. He had utterly destroyed the last being who’d been in that position.

Taking inspiration from Xundel, Manticore shakily gestured with a hand, causing a Iudex mutation to tumble in his direction. Grasping it by the neck, he sensed a minuscule amount of energy still left within the recently killed creature. At once, the zabrak drained it dry, greedily, yet what he received from it was so meager, that it seemed to mock him, while it only enhanced his inner hunger.

Subsequently, two more mutates were drained in similar fashion, one after the other. Manticore's gaze roved over Maz’s relatively healthier and unconscious body several times already. Absently, Manticore thought of thanking Lord Iudex for his indirect contribution. The very thought was somewhat amusing, but not without merit. Iudex was a powerful Sith warrior in his own right, as his innate strength was mirrored in these mutations, enough for him to benefit from them.

It was then that Manticore allowed himself to react to Xundel and his offer to assist him, as he was still flat on his back. Manticore had heard his words, of course.

Accepting Xundel’s offer, the zabrak reached out and took the proffered hand, first using it to get himself upright, then as an anchor to get to his feet, albeit shakily.

“We end him. We end the cycle…” Manticore rasped.

"The Cycle?"

A craw of a voice rippled out, amused, and the Beyond the Shadows returned.

"Is that what you truly want?"



Xundel groaned as he assisted Manticore to his feet. Feeding in on some of the energy of the place, something only possible due to his guest, he slowly began to straighten even more, the pain slowly receding.

Which, of course, was when a voice, a familiar one from only a short time ago as well as from over the years, reached him. His eyes began to blaze in a swirl of greys as Beyond Shadows returned, their spirits as much as physical bodies swelling again, it felt like, at least his did.

Turning to face the one who had spoken, his voice was even but held an edge, in a tone that was not quite his own, ”And there he is, the architect. Arb, you know as well as I that warping the fabric of reality so has and will unleash Changes not even you or I could control.” his ‘guest’ said, having surged to the fore.

His long ears waved as he shook his head, ”You know how I feel about the Cycle, only too well, having sought to rebuff my own work, over the eons.”

Manticore stood and straightened, nodding his unspoken thanks to Xundel. That's when he heard a voice, from a presence he had not felt enter their location. The zabrak's eyes narrowed into slits, a fierce glow issuing from them. From Xundel's words and manner towards the being, he drew a few conclusions.

He was spent and there was no strength for battle left in him, only enough which allowed him to slowly recover. Still, he would not shy away from conflict should it be required of him.

"Friend of yours?" He rasped, his words laced with sarcasm.

"Come now, Manty," Arb said, glowering. "We've met! Directly, indirectly, in a couple faces."

He waved a hand over his face.

He was now a Chiss, standing in Professor regalia.

He was then a red-skinned man, Sek'nos Rath.

He was then a Chistori.

"When haven't we known each other?"

He was back to his current visage.

"So what if I became the New and Improved First Darkness when you worked so hard to separate the First and Snoke."

A slight clap, sarcasm through and through.

"The Maker picked a real dud set of Protectors this time!"

A laugh.

Xundel’s lips quirked in a small smile. ”The Maker, interesting that you would think that.” he murmured.

His eyes were a riot of shades of grey as he met the single eye that Arb let show. Amusement as well as resolved shone in them. ”Darkness, even the First, even a new and improved first.” the emphasis was clear, ”Only works if there is a Light to stand against it. Otherwise you only flail against yourself.”

The head turned, glancing at Manticore, ”No matter what he is, he has always been a snake oil salesman and remains one.” he stated calmly to the being who had been a friend and brother over millennia.

Arb was droll.

"Come on, that's not always the case," he said lazily. "I mean, what could you want that I cannot give you?"

He spread his hands. "Wish it, and I'll make it yours."

Manticore’s gaze narrowed and became incandescent slits all at once, even as he regarded the cloaked man’s transformations, from figures he had seen with his own eyes, to those he believed he'd only imagined, or to have seen only in strange dreams.

Worse still, this being revealed itself to be the ‘New Darkness’, meaning, that all they had been through, fought for, and endured, was seemingly for naught. This being’s very presence was to serve as evidence that they had failed. However, if this ‘Darkness’ was indeed new’, perhaps it was also vulnerable- like all new things?

Then again, maybe not, for it already knew how to be both patronizing and condescending in a single breath.

Manticore needn’t spare a glance towards Xundel. By the grey one’s tone alone, he already gleaned his position towards the newcomer. It wasn’t favorable.

“A deceiver of a thousand faces…” Manticore rasped, concerning the ‘snake oil salesman’.

“If I were to wish for the Wishing Well to make itself vanish forever and an eternity, everywhere, at once, would it?”

The zabrak Sith Lord scoffed at the very idea.

“That would be too easy, don’t you think?”

“No, I’d much rather find infinite new ways to defeat that which was already defeated once, time and time again - should that be my only reason for being.”

Clash unending, unyielding. Glorious. Limitless War. Duds only need apply.

”You heard my brother, Arb…you have nothing worth tempting me with. You may try, may dangle carrots before my face to do so but even you know where this leads.” the voice said, coming from Xundel’s mouth.

The imp’s head turned, ears bowing slightly, as the swirling grey eyes looked at Manticore, still addressing Arb, ”Destroy this one, destroy my brother and to borrow, to paraphrase, from one who gave his all If you strike me down I will return more powerful than you could possibly imagine.*”

With that, his body turned, one leg forward, both three fingered hands held low, near the belt of his robes, right foot turned and behind him, eyes refocusing on Arb himself. ”Or we end this farce and both begin those last steps toward the confrontation we know is coming, as I prepare my brother here for it.”

Arb lifted a finger.

"Oh we'll see."

Snap.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Shadowsun

*Paraphrase of Obi Wan Kenobi’s last words to Darth Vader, ANH

 

IC: The Second Darkness
Thwarted?



Arb's expression was taut.

"Your thoughts betray you."

"Your feelings do you credit. But they are mistaken... you lost the bet."

"Do you want to hug it out? Let me balm your feelings. Bring it here shadow brother, bring it here." Dunkeel - Faya - stepped forward, arms wide. Gesturing.

"Let me ease you pain."

Arb didn't move, his hands merely clutched in-front of him.

He seemed to rage.

To age.

His expression melted, became more reptillian.

His eye patch snapped from the back of his head and dropped to the floor.

"Faya’s correct,"

"You didn’t account for the unseen. Braata was always with me; she was in my heart. I felt her presence, even if I wasn’t acutely aware of what I was experiencing. No amount of manipulation will change the truth."

“Did your experiment work, Arb?” Bellorum asked. “It didn’t tear us apart, and we aren’t splintered by the temptations you used.”

“All Arb has done was solidify our bond, if it was even possible it has only made us closer. He cannot fracture our connection, we remain as one.”



Reality was thrown into sharp relief.

A room of plasteel and metal and construction.

A throne room.

Where he had lost everything, the very first time, in 1983.

He - Arb - spat.

"Protectors."

His hands lifted.

"If you will not be turned..."



"You will be destroyed."



They were newly empowered; but he was divine, as he, as Palpatine, had always planned.

As he had shepherded himself to his ultimate victory all along.

Arb was merely another name for himself.

He had possessed self after self, up and down the timeline, across multiple universes.

Of course he had.

Darth Sidious the Eternal had no desire to leave the Change to chance.

He had Changed things time and time again, and now he would Change it all.

TAG: @HanSolo29, @Mitth_Fisto, @Lady_Belligerent

 

JAKKU

The World of the Episodes

The gravitic anomalies plagued a storm, but their ship, it had been prepared.

How could it not be?

What was standard for the Bakurans, and their satellite nations, for their allies and friends, was rare for the others.

Perhaps they'd not realised, or perhaps they'd not remembered.

Hyperspace Inertia Momentum Sustainers.

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Hyperwave_inertial_momentum_sustainer

HIMS, created by the Bakurans to breach gravity wells just like this.

Automatically, a bubble of counter-hyperspace activated, and they lurched back into hyperspace, through the system-wide interdiction field, it threw them forward, and they were just as suddenly above Jakku.

A single Resurgent-class Star Destroyer, a battlecruiser by the terms of the wars Adalia and Kyp had fought against the Empire and Yuuzhan Vong and Darth Caedus.

The Force resonated; the gunners, they had the Force.

Anti-starfighter fire clawed after them -

Curving over the hull of the Star Destroyer came black-droids, each with that creepy Force echo -

How could droids have the Force?

But sensors told them the truth; there were merely brains inside the droids skull, brains with the Force.

Dark science.



Shadow Droids.

TAG: @darthbernael, @Adalia-Durron

 

BEYOND THE SHADOWS

IC: The Quiet Balance

Paradise was more easily defined for the Quiet Balance.

Arb merely had to pick at the avatars that had been picked to continue his war.

The first reality, for Bernael, his son, alive, and the two of them hunting on Anzat, Kigrael lived, and Bernael was the heart of his homeworld, respected, trusted, obeyed -

The next, for Atin-Kot, a galaxy where the Taung had not been rendered extinct by the folly of the Mandalorians, and without that tragedy, the Mandalorian people were not Sith pawns, not endlessly divided, not broken upon by Civil War and nuclear holocausts - he was Mand'alor -

The next, for Xundel, a meeting between he and the rest of his kin, a homeworld for him, for Yoda, for Yaddle, for Grogu, for Kralkus -

Another, for Renn, where his homeworld was not lost, and he and others existed apart from the Great Sith War which ruined his life so, but nonetheless he still met the woman of his dreams, some four millennia later than the defeat of Exar Kun, and they had children, had love -

This time Maldael, the King of the Sephi, lording over a Mid Rim Alliance which kept the Republic good, kept the Sith at bay, kept the peace and reaped the support of the Taung, the Verpine, the Obroans, the Contruumi, creating a strong and powerful Navy that was just the peace. It was peace. In the hands of the noble monarch, who the people adored and sustained with the sciences of the Force and their time -

And Zas'tel? There was even a time when he lived, happily, and hunted, he was never taken to Nouane by a Tho Yor, a memory long lost, never caused to suffer as the vessel of the Contradiction between Chaos and Balance, between the Darkness and the Light -

TAG: @darthbernael (six combos)
---

And what of Darth Manticore?

What did he wish for?

His masters, Anguished...

His past, divided by Sith wars...

His future became a past, when he fell to the era of the Ronin...

His past became his future, when he returned through the Shadows, somehow...

He would stand upon a bridge, the armour of Akuma upon him, his mask in hand.

Before him stood a man.



"It's time."

His blade ignited.

Behind him, another voice.



"Yes, it is."

A flash of vision; the immediate future he saw, a brawl of divine heights between two great swordsman, with him involved, partaking, growing stronger for it -



The vision ended, and thy merely stood on the rickety bridge in the snow.

Would they begin?

TAG: @greyjedi125 (combo)

 

TAG: @Darth Cocytus (combo continues)

TAG: @darthbernael, @TheAdmiral (combo continues)

 

IC Marana, Tarkin, Jori, and Zel Combo with Sinrebirth and TheAdmiral
Kuat

Marana’s lips twisted in a dark smile as she felt something change in the body at her feet. She looked up, eyes meeting Zel’s.

"So what? We liberate a system, an easy target? We send a speech to enflame the Kuati, and put Snoke on notice we're coming? Or are you proposing a false-flag op, where we send in our pet Sith and we step into 'save' Kuat from them?"

She looked back down at Tarkin seeing one eye open, looking blank for a moment before it focused on her and winked. Snorting, she looked back up at Zel, ”We must do something, sitting here waiting for other things to happen, especially when all the ‘heros’ of the galaxy just seemed to have let themselves be trapped, is the worst possible choice.”

Reaching up one hand, Tarkin closed it around her armoured forearm. He pulled himself up slowly, turning his head to face Zel. ”Oh, it’s much worse than that. I’ve seen what is behind a good deal of what is happening.” He coughed, a small dribble of blood escaping his lips, ”Or rather, I was just battling it, along with others. But…”

He looked over at his granddaughter, ”This is her world, even if it is or will be, ours, and she should have as deep a say in how we influence her people.” he stated flatly, the old politician returning more as his mind began to settle, His eyes hardened though, as he pulled himself to his feet, lifting his cane, the tip pointing at Zel, ”In difficult ground, press on; In encircled ground, devise stratagems; In death ground, fight.”* His eyes remained hard and focused on Zel as his lips quirked, almost smiling, ”We debated that as young men. Don’t debate it now with an old ‘ghost’, I’ve seen what would make your heart stop, just now. We are in death ground though, everywhere at once.”

Jori's eyes widened when she saw the blood on Tarkin's lips. Did she miss something? What was going on. She needed to remain focused, but this new development was making it difficult. "It is even better to act quickly and err than to hesitate until the time of action is past."* she quoted "Everything in war is very simple, but the simplest thing is difficult."*

"It is too early to announce ourselves to Snoke." she continued "It is good that he is too preoccupied at the moment to notice our actions. We have to start making our first steps." Jori grimaced "Are you sure that we can deal with the Sith?"

She peeked at Tarkin, trying to push her concern, there was no time for that. Hopefully he would able to hold for longer.

Zel looked to Tarkin and Marana for an answer to that. Sith were outside his field of expertise.

He knew armies; and the combined force they'd assembled was jittery.

They were afraid, and if they weren't committed soon, they'd clearly scatter.

Marana wiped the blood dripping from Tarkin’s mouth before looking over at Jori, nodding but smiling. She was sure the old man would survive even longer, he was quite sturdy.

”My Jensaarai will be able to take on any Sith we encounter. As will I.” she said calmly, but with a humored, dark expression on her face.

Tarkin smiled at her, placing one hand on her armored arm, when she wiped his mouth. He was still weary, still trying to reconcile the memories of what he’d just been a part of. Lifting his head, he set the tip of his cane back on the floor, ”Jori, do what you think is right, if I have something to add, I will, but Marana is the best to coordinate the activities of her Force users with.” he added.

Jori wanted to show concern, but could not afford to do so. They were deciding the future of their movement and she could not afford to be distracted by personal matters. She nodded to Marana. "We should misdirect the enemy." she mused out loud "They must not know that our target is Kuat." she continued "How about we strike a lighter or medium sized target while we swipe in and take Kuat while they deal with the other problem?" she paused "I know Snoke has bigger problems, but he has not left the rest of his Empire defenseless."

Zel paused, began calling up data. "That's not a terrible idea."

"Snoke seems to be running a stateless strategy. He's a few hardpoints, enough to keep dominating engagements, but he's been burning down everything else. The shipyards at Fondor, Corellia, Mon Calamari - they're all gone, and Kuat is not only his primary yard but one of his only."

He paused. "But his supply chain is ferrying ships to Anaxes, and then to Coruscant before a mysterious final location." He indicated the galactic map. "If we hit Anaxes...?"

Marana’s smile was predatory, ”Hit them where it hurts, yes. And, should we take Anaxes then whatever craft he sends through there we can then also take from him. My people can and will handle any Force users that may be present. As well,” she looked back and forth between Jori and Zel, her gauntlet covering Tarkin’s hand on her arm almost tenderly, ”Should your people be able, I will stay with whatever flagship is sent, use Battle Meditation to direct our forces.”

Tarkin, for his part, was only half listening to the discussion. He knew he needed to be here, to be a visible figure in their battle, an icon to rally behind, but at the same time he still felt and remembered the battle he’d been a part of or that his spirit had, and he knew that he’d be called to that battle again, at some point. He smiled softly at Jori, sensing her concern but knowing she had to remain strong to lead their forces.

Jori considered the information provided. Internally she was horrified that Snoke was destroying so many important worlds. They could have been the base for a new Confederacy. "Maybe we can convince that Kuat will be next?" she started as an idea came to mind. "We strike at Anaxes and take some of Snoke's ships and stage a little drama for the Kuati, make them believe that Snoke has no use of them any longer?"

*Sun Tzu - Art of War
*von Clausewitz - On War

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @TheAdmiral

 

IC: Zel
Frustrated, Kuat Sector edge

The man wanted to launch an attack now, before the Confederacy fell apart.

Nonhumans were, fundamentally, hard to keep on-track, and Sullustans and Sluissi would be no different...

But Atreus seemed to being methodical, if not glacial, perhaps even testing his legendary patience.

He excused himself, taking a retinue of officers with him. "Anaxes it is. I'll prepare a squadron."

For a moment, there was merely Marana, Atreus... and Tarkin.

The latter was resonating in the Force, in a way Marana would not know but similar to the warp that had drawn Atreus and Tarkin to this timeline.

A flux, and Tarkin became a hole in the Force, as if tugged -

They were all drawn in.

To Tarkin's perfect world.

TAG: @darthbernael (initially), @TheAdmiral (thereafter)

 

OOC: First couple of several combos, thanks to Arb, with Sinre

IC: Atin-Kot Kouwr
Mandalore

Mandalore thrived, the world was as at peace as a world full of warriors could be, not having been destroyed by the Empire or civil war. The Taung still thrived, slowly accepting worthy warriors of other races into the clans but the Taung themselves still remaining as clan leaders and trainers of the various beings. Atin-Kot had, over the many years, risen to his current position as Mand’alor. Their people were happy even as they hunted others. But, with treaties that included the Sephi, they had brought peace to the sector of space that included Thustra and Mandalore.

He’d spent the previous evening reviewing troop dispositions as well as fleet ones, with the King of the Sephi and the morning dawned with promise that the younger Mandalorians would be able to get a taste of battle, to learn what it meant to be Mandalorians, to fight as the Taung did. He rose from the throne, having reviewed the most recent reports of the clans and wandered out to the balcony, never realizing he was imitating the Sephi King.

Last night had brought odd dreams, dreams of a time that never existed, of him fighting in wars that had never happened, his people destroyed, Mandalorians being a degenerate cult rather than a race of warriors, which was troubling him. He heard one of the clan chiefs walk out, even as he rested an armored forearm on the railing. When his fellow taung joined him he glanced over, ”Something troubles me.”

The Taung pulled off his beskar helmet and stepped close.



"My Lord Manda'lor," said Cassus Vhett. "In the Unknowns, sir? Did not the Sith flee into it?"

The upside down V of Atin-Kot’s lips twitched, forming almost a W, at the question. ”The last and only one that truly troubled us was that damnable Chiss, who managed to use his abilities to convince the border force to let him cut across our territory enroute to the Unknowns. When no one ever thought a male Chiss, especially one past their teens, could use the Force.” he muttered without having moved.

Sighing and turning to face the clan chief, ”Cassus, that was a mistake that we should never have allowed. He and his people have been the one thorn on the rose of peace that we’ve developed, with our allies.”

Cassus nodded. "We should pursue the fool, and strike him down; bring an end to his thorniness."

A hesitation.

Would Coruscant remain docile if a war broke out?

What of Corellia, or Alsakan? Let alone their servant territories; the Hutts, the Tionese, the Quarren and Mon Calamari?

Vhett was a strategist through and through, but even he understood diplomacy.

”We are Taung, we are Mandalorian, war is in our blood and being. But,” Atin-Kot sighed, ”we are also allies with races that if we faltered, or showed a point of weakness, would not hesitate to take advantage. We only need to look at the history of the galaxy to know that. Your idea has merit, but is not a cause for whelps and foundlings. We would need to gather the cream of the clans, work out better mutual defense treaties with the Sephi, at least before we took such action.”

His eyes shone, ”I have not tested my strength against a Sith in many years, that could be a worthy battle, indeed.” he mused, out loud.

"We should sneak a force across Republic space... surprise the dar'jeti," Vhett said, carefully. "The Republic is auretiise, they will merely wait to debate action until the Sith are aware." He growled.

Atin-Kot let his lips turn up in the curved W once more. ”Is not Sephi space closer to the Unknowns?” he asked. His hands clasped behind his back as he began to pace, thinking. ”Should our ally allow that would be of better strategic sense, would give our foe less warning as I doubt the Sephi would stir in such a way as to give him that warning. On the other hand, should the Republic, in their need for peace, have any of their fleet notice us, it would be as kicking a killik hive. And give him time to prepare.”

Vhett titled his head. "The Unknowns are north, and east... I guess it depends if you reckon where we'll find your little blue friend," a grin across his predator-like face. "And if you want to conquer a few worlds as we go around the Rim."

Taung faces were almost readymade to appear predatory and Atin-Kot’s did as he met Vhett’s gaze. ”Expand the Taung, the Mandalorian, influence? How could that ever be wrong? And would get some leavening to the young ones before they’d have to face the Sith.”

"Never wrong," a grin. "But your Sephi friends might have an opinion." Vhett opined the obvious, and his disdain rung out. Auretiise.

Atin-Kot snorted, ”Of course he will, he’s spent his lifetime working to ensure the sector is at peace. I suppose such a goal is easier for such creatures with their much longer lifetimes.”

He turned to look out over the city again, thinking. ”Of course…” he mused, ”Their King also has no use for Sith so that is a way to encourage them to either take part or ignore our war against this one.”

"What about the Neti? They keep to themselves," Vhett wondered. "And often find out things we do not."

"The King might give us one way across Republic space, but them, another?" He held out his hand flat, and bounced it up and down. "Like skipping a stone."

Atin-Kot glanced at the chrono inset under his left bracer, ticking through the time difference between Mandalore and Ryyk. Chuckling as he looked back over at Vhett, ”The Neti do like their privacy. However…I just so happen to know there’s a ceremony upcoming on Ryyk and am slightly surprised an old friend hasn’t sent an invite yet. Although, knowing him…” he glanced back over the city, ”his invite would entail turning the buildings of the entire capital into a pastel wonderland just to get my attention.”

"Ryyk would get us to the Trans-Vulta..." Vhett wondered. "Should I prepare an appropriately sized honour escort for you, Manda'lor?"

Atin-Kot nodded solemnly. ”Prepare the clans. I would ask that they follow the border of Neti space, save for the honor guard, so as not to antagonize our friends, and those very powerful and ancient beings.” he replied, before taking his helmet, setting it on his head with a click as its systems came online.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

IC: Maldael Fesh
Thustra

The morning light of Thustra beckoned Maldael out onto the terrace that ringed the residence he’d chosen when he’d been chosen by his people and his good friend, the now deceased Alaric, to lead and guide them. He stepped out, his long hair still carrying the luster of youth even at his age, only a few wrinkles betraying the many centuries he’d lived.

He looked out over the capital, seeing his people going about their business, safe and secure in their lives, thanks to the current situation in their sector of space. He’d spent the evening on a holo call with the Mand’alor, a wise Taung who led his people as well as Mal did the Sephi. They’d been discussing the current state of affairs, mostly the continued integration of the various species forces into their combined Navy, used only to ensure their sectors were secure and not to aid or fight for others.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned against the balcony railing, watching aircars and ground vehicles traveling. ’So why does something feel…off…’ he thought to himself.

It began to rain, lightly, but not enough to interfere with his musings.

"My Lord?"



The young man who wasn't particularly young whatsoever (as befit the Sephi in all their variations) stepped through, Sheev, one of his advisors.

The rain was beginning to turn the lights of the capital into fairy lights, making the city seem almost more mystical in the mist of the drizzle. It only served to allow Mal to delve even more deeply into his thoughts.

At least, that was, until he heard the voice behind him. Turning, a soft smile touched his lips when he saw Sheev come out onto the balcony, the almost transparent umbrella reflecting the lights of the city. ”Did you lose the game among the advisors to come pull your elderly ruler from his dark musings, Sheev?” he asked in an almost humored tone.

"I always lose those games, my Lord" Sheev said, lightly, smiling. "Besides, winning at dejarik against them is tiresome. It's quicker to accept the 'burden' of your company." A slight smile.

"So, I lived long enough to see your peace," he said lightly.

Mal chuckled lightly, his eyes shining in the light rain, drips falling from the tips of his ears. ”There’s an old quote that goes ‘Peace? Ah, yes, defined as a period of time to allow for preparation for the next war’*.” his tone was light but a weariness had formed in his eyes.

”We have built something here,” his arm swept out to encompass, at least in his mind, not just the capital or world but the nearby sectors, ”that is rare in the history of the galaxy, a period free from war. Which makes me wait in worry for when the other shoe drops and the fires are ignited again.”

Sheev nodded, sagely. "So what should we do? Start it, to end the next one?"

A dry chuckle.

Mal shook his head, with a snort. The gathered water, that dripped from his pointed ears and long hair was flung out in a halo in the drizzle. ”Our allies would love that. I can see it now ‘What in the Nine Hells is going on now? The Sephi have decided to start battling a foe they were recently at peace with. What do the treaties say about that?’ I know I’d have a dozen comm calls within ten minutes of making that decision.”

"Nobody said you had to answer those calls," Sheev said, lightly. "So you want to end war itself?" He snorted. "You'd be better off resetting reality and looking at what comes next."

Mal’s face became even more wet from the rain as he tilted his head back, laughing. It took a few moments to recover before he returned his attention to Sheev. ”Now you’re putting ridiculous words in my mouth. A galaxy without some conflict is one that falls into stagnation and decay. Look to the past and the history we know. The Celestials had their ‘perfect’ galaxy but the Architects were able to wrest it away from that perfection because of that stagnation. No, my friend,” he reached out, putting one hand on Sheev’s shoulder, ”conflict is necessary for growth and life, but managed conflict. So if we randomly go to war we only create a chaotic conflict that could set the entire galaxy ablaze once again.”

Sheev nodded slightly... "So you want a managed conflict?" A tap of his chin. "A proxy war, or a cold one?"

"Conflict is the fact that societies measure themselves against, I suppose... without opposition, won't a civil war simply follow that period of stagnation and decay?"

Mal sighed, shoulders rolling as he considered that, ”Yes, that is, sadly, the inevitable outcome of such stagnation. And not something I wish to see as my legacy.” Dropping his hand from Sheev’s shoulder, he folded his arms behind him, ”The question is, what conflict would be worth our time and effort?” A slight smile touched his features, ”Perhaps I should call the Mand’alor, his people always have an ear for battle and know what battles are out there to be fought.”

"Call him you could," Sheev admitted. "But there are plenty of threats, old and Old, that we could face," the slight emphasis upon the latter O. "Why not go for the root causes of evil?"

Lifting his fingers to flick the water from the tips of his ears Mal let a slightly amused smile touch his face, ”And what do you suggest is an Old enough threat to rouse our people to war?” he asked.

Snapping a finger, creating a hemisphere of energy that fed from only a small current of energy that kept the increasing rain from his head. ”Besides, I do expect to see him soon enough, there is an event coming up that I would be surprised if either of us were not invited to.”

Sheev nodded, absently. "Ah, yes, the wedding." A chuckle. "Might I come too? The King should not travel alone, after all."

"And perhaps we can, in that moment of love, and light, cast a shadow lengthy enough to entice our enemies out?"

”Considering the other guests I suspect would be invited I would say it is completely appropriate that I travel with a retinue.” Mal mused. He paced back and forth, the light rain not affecting his mood, ”I’m quite certain that if all that could be present are it would entice something out of hiding.”

Sheev looked intrigued. "Well isn't that good to know."

"Let me be your retinue, my Lord, and we shall travel the stars."

He offered his arm to support his old friend.

”Let us.” Mal murmured, taking Sheev’s arm.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125

*Quote from Terry Pratchett’s Unseen Academicals

 

OOC: More results of Arb's meddling, with our devious GM

IC: Xundel
World Unknown, Xundel’s homeworld

The planet was…for all intents and purposes…a Force loci, the whole planet was. Which was part of why Xundel’s people were so strong in the Force, why so many of them had Force ability, whether leaning towards the Light or the Dark. He’d sat for many years on the Council of his people, guiding and leading them along with the wise Yoda, the equally wise yet tempered with mercy Yaddle, the playful Grogu, and the strict yet determined Kralkus.

For eons, his people had kept the rest of the galaxy from knowing where their home was, where their people were from. Partially it was for his people’s safety and partially because they truly didn’t want others to stumble across the loci, strong as it was.

Currently sitting in Council with the others, Xundel’s thoughts were drifting slightly, his eyes unfocused. The current discussion was one of training their young and Grogu had the most to say on that subject while Xundel often focused on the training of those older. As his thoughts wandered the various energies of the world were touching his mind, making his thoughts drift up against what felt like a smooth spot in his mind. Which was an oddity that he found himself needing to work out.

Sitting up as Grogu finished speaking Xundel cleared his throat, ”Something…something feels odd.” he said trying not to be too specific to see if the others would respond, first, before he went into detail.

Yoda, the elder of them, chuckled slightly. "Playful, the Force feels."

Grogu, playing with Yaddle, looked up. "What do you feel, Xundel?"

"Probably shadows, knowing him," Kralkus chuckled.

For his part, Grogu, leapt up and over Xundel, landing before him, and waving the small snack he had snatched from Yaddle.

A smile crossed Xundel’s face at Yoda’s response, that one always had an interesting outlook where it came to sensing the Force.

Taking the snack from Grogu with a pat of his three fingered hand to the young one, he glanced over at Kralkus with a snort. ”You know me only too well, old friend. One way we’ve been wiser than the Force orders is that we recognize a Council needs those who have sensitivity to every pole of the Force in Council.”

Nibbling from the snack, he held it back out to Grogu, smiling again, ”There is a playful energy, I admit, but…it feels playful as though it’s leading us in a game of its own devising.”

Yoda indicated the depth of Xundel's shadow.

"Only what you take with you, is returned."

Indeed, not so much at the twitch of a finger, the shadow grew three dimensional -

Grogu squeaked, Kralkus regarded it from his chair absent, and Yaddle mottled her brow -



Do you not love me?

Yoda narrowed his eyes, but indicated with his walking stick that Yaddle should stay back.

Xundel stood, patting Grogu on his head before he leaned on his cane, turning to face the shadow. A smile touched his lips, it was him as much as anything else. But, he’d long ago recognized the darkness in his soul and had come to terms with it.

”What is love then? Can I not love the glint of light on a drop of rain as much as the coruscating hues of reds and oranges as a sky burns from a battle equally? I am both shadow and light, you are but one part of the whole of me.” he said calmly.

Equivocate with me? LOVE ME!

The creature leapt atop Xundel and seeking to tumble him over -

Wrapping the arm not holding the cane around the physical form of the shadow, Xundel swayed, bowed backward somewhat, before he straightened, his eyes almost jovial as he met the crazed red eyes of the shadow, ”Love? I love all things, light and dark, but you do not seem to want love, you want adoration and you are a little pushy.” he teased, knowing that at least a good part of the shadow was himself and would give him an, even minimal, edge with its assault.

Of course… he hissed.

You lie. You do not love all things.

His shadow leapt upon him again, tried to vise his neck.

XUNDEL HATES ME.

Tensing the muscles of his neck, Xundel kept a small smile on his face, ”Hate…interesting that you use that word…” he ground out.

His free hand rose, pressing against the forehead of the shadow as it tried to choke him. ”Why is it that you need my love so much?” he asked as the muscles in his neck strained harder against the shadow’s grasp.

Love? Isn't that the only way back to the light?

Grogu lifted a little hand, and Yaddle lowered it.

Dark Xundel hissed. Am I not loveable?

Fighting against a hand on his forehead, he resisted the urge to try and choke the other again, he simply settled on trying to bash his skull into the ground -

Xundel’s laugh was a rolling peal as he tried not to be knocked unconscious by the way the shadow was acting. He Pushed, against the ground behind his head, to keep it from being impacted as he met the red eyes once more, ”Did I say I was Light alone? You must not have been listening to the Council in the last few minutes then.” he managed to get out between moments of the attack. ”Our people recognize all the sides of the Force and I am the one who straddles the Light and the Dark, you are simply one part of me, and I do love all parts equally.”

You lie.

Dark Xundel continued to wrestle against Xundel's grip, both physical and mental, and howled. You claim balance but only face chaos. We LIKE chaos. Chaos leads to Darkness, and you stop it! You are not balance! You are light!

Xundel changed tactics as the dark shadow wrestled against him. Instead of fighting the shadow, he began to wrap his arms around it, pulling it toward him tighter, opening his energy to absorb it back into himself. ”Prove it then, my shadow. Prove you are that part of me. I am Light ad Dark, shadow and sun. One cannot exist without the other.” he said, tone now soft. ”But…you shall see…I am both in one, the high and lows of who I am. Surrender this needless battle.”

The shadow began to struggle, but it was working; Xundel was accepting his pure darkness, and Kralkus, Grogu, Yaddle and Yoda all watched, absently.

And he was absorbed... and consciousness began to be robbed from Xundel!

The first thing to fall was his cane, clattering to the floor. Xundel began to slump after it, feeling conscious thought failing. His head fell back, eyes suddenly wide as their color shifted. In the same moment, as darkness began to crawl over his form, the shadow immersed inside him, light flared on his robes and skin, pressing against the darkness. The light dimmed, the Light and Dark merging, swirling, their intrinsically opposite natures at war as they became whorling shades of grey, his entire form wreathed in it. By the time his body collapsed fully to the floor, he was entirely engulfed, his unconscious form writhing as the shades of grey raced over it.

The moment passed, and the others were standing over him.

Grogu canted his head; Yaddle raised her brow; Yoda almost brooded; Kralkus made a noise to scoff.

"You were woken by this," Yoda said, tapping Xundel's belt, where his comlink was bleating.

Opening his eyes with a groan, Xundel reached up, feeling his thoughts settling again. “I should have set that to vibrate.” he muttered. Lifting the comlink, he keyed it, ”This had better be good, you have…interesting timing.” he muttered.

It was a summons.

I message on behalf of the groom and bride! Come to the Neti homeworld, and be apart of the festivities!

It was from an unfamiliar name, but it was Renn's wedding day, or week, depending on how culturally Neti he went.

Yoda groused. "A strange interruption, no?"

Xundel snorted, ”Tell me, old friend, how much of a coincidence is it that I first get attacked by my shadow self and almost immediately receive a comm call about the wedding of another old friend?” he asked with a humored and wry tone.

Pushing himself up further, he reached out, Pulling his cane to him. He felt every ache as he got to his feet, head turning to take in the others, ”It is, most certainly, a trap of some sort but one must often put one’s head in the noose to flush out the one who you must truly face. Besides, between Renn and others that may be there, we will have more that can face such a foe.”

Yoda paused, glanced to Yaddle. "Go alone, you intend to?"

Grogu made a noise of disagreement.

"I'm not going," Kralkus said.

"With you, I could go," Yoda sighed. "Old, I am, but not too old."

Xundel’s ears flicked in a slight surprise. He and Yoda were on again off again allies, usually dependent on how far to the Dark Side Xundel himself fell on any issue that was being debated. He understood Kralkus’ decision but Grogu was a slight surprise, the last time they had visited the Neti it was everything he could do to keep the young one from leaping from living tree to living tree.

Turning his focus back to the older, Light sided Yoda, he nodded, ”Another set of eyes, ones belonging to our kind could not hurt. And it would allow us both to discuss things on the trip.”

Yoda nodded. "Then go, we will... and May the Force be With us."

Xundel nodded respectfully to the others, ”Something strange is occurring and we shall discover what it is and prevent it from befalling our people.” he told them, turning and beginning to stump off toward the exit of the Council chamber and the lift that would take him and Yoda to their ship.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Bernael, Adalia, Kyp, and Kigrael
The Fury and beyond - thank you @darthbernael for this awesome post.

At the jump, Bernael had come out of his seat. He’d not intended to use that function of his Fury, at least not with company. As the starscape settled again, revealing them directly above Jakku, he moved so he was behind and between Adalia and Kyp. He touched a few buttons on one of the consoles, directing the AI to go to autonomous mode to take evasive maneuvers as they tried to get past the Resurgent SD before them and it’s Sith brained droids.

”Well…now you can see that I’ve gotten some technical help from your cousin’s world.” he told Adalia with a twisted smile. Looking out over the SD and it’s droids, ”That is some trouble, which we need to get past before we can reach where we need to be.”

As his will spread out, to reach out to the Force sensitive droids, to overpower them, he felt a massive presence erupt in the Force. Swiftly drawing in his presence, it didn’t matter as the larger presence seemed to follow his. With a swift movement, he reached out, grasping both Adalia and Kyp by their forearms. ”Sorr…” he began before….

--/--

Anzat Prime

The morning dawned on the homeworld of the Anzati, clear and bright at least up among the aeries and peaks where the Anzat themselves lived. Further down the slopes only darkness reigned. The retreat of this particular family had their banners prominently displayed in the broad windows that looked out over the Dark Heart, the infinitely repeating sigil surrounded by a twisted circle, representing that the head of the Circle of Masters lived there and was in residence at that time.

That being had woken, not needing to feed that morning and had walked over to those same windows, taking the time to observe the skies, devoid of stars, only the wisps and flows of energy that made up the sea of souls surrounding the world was visible. That alone was part of why most species avoided their world. That and the fact it was home to some of the deepest nightmare of creatures that stalked the galaxy.

Yet, part of Bernael’s time was taken up by the fact that some species did overcome their fears and did travel to this world to learn more and interact with the mind vampires. Two of which were and had been his guests for many years, their children having grown up among creatures that others thought were ancient and evil creatures. As he considered the dark forests below he caught the sense of another presence joining him, causing a small smile, Kigrael still couldn’t fully mask his presence, at least to his sire.

”Father, the Heart seems off this morning, something has disturbed it.” Kigrael whispered as they looked down on the woods. Bernael thought about his son’s words as they stood silently. ”There is something, yes. We may have to seek out the soul of the Dark Heart to find out.” he whispered back, in agreement. He was whispering, as was his son, as they both felt the two adult humans having walked into the main living area, where they could see the two Anzati at the window.

Bernael turned to face them, ”Breakfast has been prepared for you and your children, would you like for my son and I to sit with you while you eat? There are things that we need to discuss with you both.” he said with a nod of respect.

Adalia snorted, still pulling her hair into a long braid, "so long as you don't eat, we're good, right love." She turned to her husband, Kyp.

"Define good?" Kyp drawled, "I think our definitions are different."

She didn't respond, mostly because she sort of agreed with him, her friend's definition of 'eating' vastly different to theirs.

One side of Bernael’s mouth turned up at the comments. At least Adalia and Kyp had become used to, if not inured to the way his people fed in the years they’d lived here. He recalled times, years before, seeing the almost disgust they tried to hide. But those days were all but gone.

Nodding again, slightly, he gestured toward the dining area. As he began to head that way ”You both know of the ‘soul’ of Anzat, yes? The deepest loci, one of the darkest of the galaxy, that resides deep in the forests of our world.”

Kigrael snorted as he moved, at the same pace and rhythm of step as his father, ”Sire…are you already reaching that stage of an Anzati’s life where senility threatens?” he joked, ”Or have you fed too well recently. You know you and they have discussed the Heart on more than one occasion. And their…” he glanced over at Adalia and Kyp, the half smile on his face slightly wider than Bernael’s. ”...distaste for what it is.” he finished, as politely as he could.

"Another place our definitions differ." Kyp said, shaking his head, "you seem to forget we aren't just.....humans."

Adalia pulled out a chair, "what he's saying is, neither of us enjoy 'feeling' you guys eating. And I doubt me chewing on something here even comes close to comparing to it. So what of this soul, or do I want to eat first?"

Sitting beside her Kyp raked his green eyes over the spread, "you expecting a Hutt? Or fattening us up?" He looked up a look of questioning on his features, "that soul thing hungry or something?"

Sitting down opposite the couple, ”Your children are still growing and…”

”And the chef isn’t used to the quantities humans eat. Young and practicing for an upcoming job.” Kigrael finished the sentence for his father as he joined the others at the table.

Glancing at his son with a arched eyebrow, Bernael nodded, ”True. Now,” his attention turned back to Adalia and Kyp. ”The Dark Heart is the deepest part of the Force loci here on the planet. The fact it seems unstable at the moment is quite concerning.” A wry smile crossed his face, ”I doubt anyone wants an unstable focus of the dark side exploding into the galaxy so we’re going to have to find out why it has entered that state.”

Kyp had begun to put some food on his plate as they spoke, stopping to look up. "Cause it's hungry and you want to send it a Jedi?" He glanced at his wife, "and a strong Force user?" Sarcasm dripped from his words.

Adalia gave her head a shake, "I highly doubt that......B wouldn't do that," she narrowed her emerald eyes, "would he?" She turned to Kigrael, "what job is the chef practicing on us for? Now I am suspicious." She didn't feel any deception, and Bernael had never given her cause for concern, but she wasn't sure about his son.

There was an air of humor in Kigrael’s expression as he sat back in the seat. ”The Master of the Circle,” he glanced at his father, ”would not allow any harm to come to his honored guests. And,” his attention returned to Adalia. ”I have known you and your family long enough to consider you family. It is poor form to harm or feed upon family.”

Snorting and shaking his head, his long hair swaying as he did, ”No need to tease them, son. They are good people.” Turning his attention to Kyp ”Two Force users would do little to mollify the Heart if it were hungry. This is…something else.” His brow furrowed slightly, ”Tell me, have either of you had odd dreams recently?”

Adalia began to put food on her plate as she frowned slightly. "More images, flashes." She said thoughtfully.

Kyp nodded, "same, nothing specific, places, images of people I feel I know, or knew....and....war?" He stopped to look at Bernael, "I can't tell if it's a vision of the future or history."

Turning to face her husband, Adalia added, "I saw myself in a ship, a starfighter....."

He’d barely turned to Kigrael before ”No, Sire, there are no reports of conflict at the moment. The stalemate between the Imperials and the Republic still holds, both sides seem more focused on building their polity than attacking the other. At least those are the reports I’ve received when others return home.” his son stated, flatly.

Letting out a soft hum Bernael turned back to the human pair, ”Hmmm, that may be something to ask the Heart, but for that you need to join us and travel to it.” he told them. ”I will not lie, it is the darkest part of this world, not an easy trip to get there, but if anyone can you two would be able to do so.”

"Let me get this straight, you want us, a pair of humans, to go to this place on your world, a world where everything wants to eat us, to visit something you have already said is essentially the dark side of the Force." Kyp asked with a raised eyebrow.

Adalia went to speak, then shook her head, "what he said."

Bernael’s silver eyes glittered, ”Call it a hunch or intuition, but something tells me that you both are needed if we are to solve why the Heart is in flux.”

Kigrael snorted, ”Decoded, he means that he wants the backup of a couple who are as much Light as not. And you both are trusted by him, unlike any others he could possibly convince to come with us.”

"I'd think that list would be short, very short." Kyp said, resuming his meal.

"Don't need to be a Jedi to know right from wrong....Sith are often wrong." It was a statement.

”Won’t find many of either side here, except for you two. Well, Kyp anyway.” Kigrael said with a small smile. ”We do tend to value our privacy from most of the galaxy.”

Nodding, watching Adalia and Kyp eat, ”So, is that a yes, you will join us?”

Stopping his meal, Kyp looked from one Anzat to the the other, "I didn't hear that word at all."

Looking to her husband she said, "that'd be because neither of us said it." Adalia turned and eyed them both, "I think we need more information, how long, how far, what weapons, plans for 'oops, they didn't make it' and so on would help a bit.”

Turning his head in the direction of the Dark Heart, Bernael’s brow furrowed for a moment as he thought. ”As I said, it’s a Force loci, one of the strongest I’ve ever seen. And attuned to the Dark Side. If I had to surmise, it’s a remnant of our ‘Father’ that somehow survived his demise. Possible it is, or was, a hidden entrance to the laboratories he used when creating our species. But now it simply is a spot extremely strong in the Force.”

Snorting Kigrael glanced at his father, ”Simply? It is a spot only the strongest among our people can even reach, the heart of it anyway.” He turned back to look at Adalia and Kyp, ”The effects of it begin far from the boundaries of the forest that is named after it. Visions, murmurs whispering that it will give you all you desire, outright attacks, are only a few of the effects. And they grow stronger the closer you are to the center of it. Which is why so few ever reach that point.”

“Peace? A quiet peaceful life? It can show us that?” Adalia asked, “cause that’s pretty much all I desire. That and…” she paused and turned to Kyp, “him….I have all I desire most the time.”

“Most?” Kyp asked, “what about the other times, not in that ‘most’?”

Adalia laughed, “oh, eating chocolate with no repercussions, stay trim with no exercise, not aging………you know, the usual stuff.”

Kyp, smiled and went on eating, he had nothing to add to that.

Adalia looked at her plate, "can we talk about this, just us please? And not with you pair listening in at all?"

Bernael’s mouth turned up in a half smile. ”We can do so, Adalia. You do know we respect your privacy. But…it would make finding the solution to what is happening easier if you and your husband assist us.” he said calmly before both he and Kigrael stood. ”If you need more information, my son and I will be preparing.”

"Thank you." Adalia watched them go, waiting for the door to close.

"And you seriously think we're alone?" Kyp asked after sipping his drink and frowning at it, "you know, I don't even want to ask what this is."

"Yes," she turned to him, "I trust that my request is being honoured."

"That's one of us. Well?" He asked.

"I don't know, I was going to ask you what you thought." Adalia seemed to deflate.

A snort, "you know my thoughts, but then again, I do love a good challenge."

"I guess this is that.....and I think trust is the key here. I trust you, you trust me, I trust B.....but that's where it might get tough."

Sipping the drink again, Kyp gave his head a shake, "you know something, this grows on you.....and as much as I hate to admit it, I do trust B, his son not so much. See, he's never lied to me, even about you....never, always honest. How can I not trust that? And I trust you, whatever you tell me, I know it's the truth."

Adalia smiled and nodded slowly, "and the kids?"

Regarding the glass of orange liquid, Kyp smiled, "we just make sure we come back."

"That simple huh?" She asked.

"Yes."



TAG @Sinrebirth

 

OOC: Renn and Helinith getting to have a little fun again, with darthhelinith and Sinrebirth

IC: Renn and Helenith
Ryyk

On the peaceful world of Ryyk, distant from the bustle of most of the galaxy, life was good. Or so Renn thought as he stood under the canopy of the massive tree that centered the sculpted landscape of the park where he and Helinith had decided to host a ceremony, one that would let their friends, family, and children see the love they shared. Humans would call it a renewal of vows but it was something deeper, at least to the two of them, the last time they had the mixture of their essence and location had caused a seed to be ‘fertilized’ by their essences, bringing about their last child.

He still recalled when, how they’d first met, bringing a small chuckle, they’d felt a slight spark even then even if they didn’t know it could be between two so different types of beings. He’d been out mapping along the borders of their polity, checking the sensor platforms out there, to be sure that they were still protected from those who might cause problems to their rather peaceful sector of space. And then his sensors, tied to the platform he’d been monitoring, threw out a warning that there was an incoming craft, the flight path through hyper suggesting that it was headed for Ryyk.

Intrigued, he’d spun up his own hyperdrive, made sure the specific signature of the craft he’d picked up was locked into his sensors, and then jumped for Ryyk. He got there only a dozen minutes before the unknown craft reached the landing pads of the capital. Time enough to have gotten clearance to be present when whoever it was had emerged. What shocked him though was how, when the ramp descended and the small female human walked down his sap pulsed in a way that humans would say of their own circulatory system was the heart pounding.

He’d had no idea who she was but something about her screamed out to him that he knew her, that she was…his bark had darkened in that way that Neti blushed…the human woman he’d seen in dreams, dreams that sometimes troubled him, dreams of a life with a human woman, love, life, and a family. And then there she had been. It had taken time, time spent having offered to be her guide while she was there, that they had gotten to know each other and had discovered their love.

As he saw the small figure in the distance approaching he smiled again. That first meeting had been ten years before, ten wondrous years they’d shared, the family they’d built, and the joy of a sort of peace on this distant temperate world that was home to the sentient trees that his people were. The thought passed and there she was, standing before him, ”There you are, my love. Shall we let them all see how we feel about each other?” he asked, taking a knee so she could take her usual perch on him.

It was rare for off-worlders to spend extended periods of time on Ryyk- the whole planet was a perfectly balanced chaos of culture and nature so tightly entwined that it was hard to recognize where one ended and the other begun.

Neti cities are as beautiful as they are highly impractical.

A race that can shapeshift rarely needs to consider things such as evenly made steps, a fixed and regular height for a doorway, or even easy access to a higher floor. Older neti dwellings, regularly hundreds of thousands of years old, were known for having wildly uneven floors and ceilings- the family living within knowing from muscle memory how high each area of the living room is, and adjusting their height accordingly without even thinking about it. Furniture was regularly custom fitted both for the user and house it would be occupying, and as a consequence it was considered the height of rudeness to comment on the difficulty or discomfort of sitting in someone else's chair.

Apply this design mantra on a wider scale and, outside of the usual spaceports and tourism hotspots, the densely populated areas were almost impassable to species without significant size, climbing abilities or flight. Watching the naturally shifting Neti navigating these streets and cities was like watching rivers and ocean waves- oscillating, mesmerizing and prone to trigger motion sickness. And spacers, who typically preferred the high frequency hums of several thousand electric circuits or the the rhythmic click of droid servos, would sometimes go all to pieces over the incessant sound of wind repeatedly caught up in thousands of branches and tinkling through the trinkets and metal pieces that liberally adorned many neti heads.

Helinith had embraced it with open arms.
She'd only been looking for an interesting place to travel about, see the usual sites and then leave, but stepping onto the planet itself was something of a deja vu, like she'd known something about this place in a dream, or a dream of a dream.

And then there was always another reason to extend her visit for a few more months, until she'd run out of excuses to not leave and Renn had had to ask her to stay. Renn's sisters had practically adopted her the first time she met them. And the rest was history.

She smiled and kissed his forehead for a moment, before stepping up and swinging onto his shoulder.
"Ready when you are. But if your brother asks me one more time what time I'm shipping out, I swear I will set him on fire."
She grinned at the thought.

The minister was waiting for them in a glen, an off-worlder who had accreditations with Coruscant.



"A pleasure, my friends, to meet you for this ceremony."

They'd been exchanging written correspondence for some weeks, but he hadn't been able to make a face-to-face audio interview around his constant time-zone hopping, as a kind of roving officiant.

Minister Bragi removed his hands and offered one to Renn, and to Helinith -

Renn chuckled at Helinith’s comment about his brother. As he turned to face the celebrant he whispered, ”We should buy a ticket offworld and then not tell him it’s in his name until it’s time for the sendoff and then be shocked that he doesn’t want to go.”

As the Minister held out his hands, Renn squatted down, to allow the man to take Helenith’s hand as well as his. His face split in a smile, ”We are pleased you were able to make it for this, Minister. Just watch out, the little ones are inquisitive, may want to examine you, if they get that far.”

Helinith hopped down, if only for the ginger-headed one to be able to reach her hand better.
"Eh, almost better they do to be honest. The sooner they see more of off-worlders, the better."
She swatted away a tendril.
"Keep your leaves to yourself, mister, or I'll be tying your arms together."

Bragi smiled warmly. "A human sentiment, I forget that you're Neti."

He shook the two tendrils, but didn't let go. "Would you like me to do the ceremony with a quick-ole turnaround, or do you have a preferred venue?"

For the moment he ignored the little'un's.

Renn glanced down at the young Neti, a communication seeming to pass from him to them, without words or sense. The kids looked slightly abashed, even as one tried to climb his back to watch the ceremony proceed. Turning back to face the celebrant, he smiled, doing his best to ignore the child on his back. ”We have come here to this sacred spot, not just because of its meaning to my people but because,” he glanced down at Helinith with an expression of love, ”This is where we first expressed how we truly felt for each other, so no rushing the ceremony or moving it elsewhere.” he finished as he looked back at the man, absently reaching into a pouch on his belt and handing his mate a fruit roll candy that he fished from within the pouch.

Helinith took it and turned it over and over in her hands, her fingers pressing against the creases in the sweet's wrapper, reflecting for the moment, on the meaning behind such a simple action between the two of them. Renn must have given her enough of those sweets over the years for their wrappers to fill one of Ryyk's lakes. Despite being a neti, he seemed determined to pollute his planet to make her happy.

Her eyes danced with mirth as she sucked on the candy.
"Let's get this started, I need to soften this up a bit or I'll choke on it trying to talk later."

A slight smile which might have wanted to be an eyeroll, he looked to Renn nonetheless warmly.

"Well then, do you require witnesses? They are not a necessity under Galactic Law, but I appreciate that it is oft tradition."

He regarded the notes.

"I see that you know the King of Thustra, Manda'lor Atin-Kot, and the infamous Xundel. Should they not be attending?"

One of Renn’s almost mossy eyebrows rose. ”That’s a well informed dossier you have there, officiant.” he muttered. Glancing over at Helinith he smiled softly, then turned back to the man, ”Hmmmm,” he then grinned, ”Well…not a fully informed dossier but still.”

Turning back to the woman who had made his life wonderful since she’d come into it, ”What do you think, my heart? Should we ask him to invite the elf, the imp, and the taung?”

Glancing over his shoulder at the squeals that came from the kids, ”Hush up, I was asking your Mum not you. I know you lot all enjoy when they show up, and the chaos that happens when they do.”

Helinith grinned back at Renn.
"The more the merrier, you know I can't resist a party."
How weird. For a moment, she had forgotten who they were.
"What are rocks and mountains, compared to family and friends? And very fine friends too."
She gave a cheeky side eye. "The family, I'm not so sure of."

Bragi nodded. "Well then, shall we adjourn, until the others arrive?"

He closed his black-bound book, which seemed to be full of all manner of note and reference, symbol and glyph.

He indicated them. "Might I give you some couple privacy, before the main event?" A warm smile to his expression flowed, as if belated, not falsetto, merely forgotten and then recalled. "I do so look forward to meeting your friends."

Renn snorted, ”You may regret meeting them, they are an…eclectic bunch.” he stated, in a wry tone. Turning away from the man, ”But, time alone with my wife is never a bad thing.” he went on, tone softer, as he met Helinith’s eyes.

Helinith nodded in agreement, before looking around at the assembled offspring.
"Alright you lot. I am giving Tamus this credit chit. You can each have one snack from the food vendor that we passed on the way here and no arguments about it or so help me I will turn you all into broomsticks."

Tamus’ eyes lit up and a vine-like appendage flew out, snagging the chit from her hand. ”Thanks Mum!” he called out.

The food vendor, having seen what appeared to be a ceremony being set up, had strategically placed his cart near it, sure that he’d get some business. What he hadn’t planned on was what looked like a cresting wave of Neti and half Neti children washing towards his food float. Quickly, he set the legs in the soil, as deep as possible, and braced himself against it, eyes wide and form shifting again and again, hoping for one that would survive the tidal wave of shrieking children.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @darthhelinith

 

Introducing Bragi, another face of Zas'tel, of the Professor, of Arb...

... of Palpatine...



















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