Star Wars New Sith Trials I *Voted Best RPG Summer 2016*

IC: Kwea Acantha
Temple, Central Foyer

Kwea was in the air still, prepared to kick Eranikus’ back when her body was shoved backwards by an invisible force. She flew out a doorway and landed with a grunt, face first. Ow. That sure was a zinger. The building shook as a blast hit and the ceiling started to crumble. Scrambling to her feet and falling over again as a wave of dizziness overcame her, Kwea felt pain, tension, fear, and anger filling her senses.

Something dripped from her nose and she lifted a hand to wipe it. Blood. Putting some pressure on it with her hand, Kwea got up again, slower this time, and remained upright. Going to a window, she could see a Star Destroyer overhead. Squinting at it, she wondered if that was where Eranikus' men were.

Looking back at where she had been thrown, she thought it would be best to find the others. Kwea approached the entrance through which she had been thrown with caution. Loud blastercanon fire could be heard.

Peeking in, she gasped. There were small flames along the rubble, the ceiling was split, the walls were visibly shaken, and there was no sign of Eranikus. She didn’t see the others but heard someone’s comm crackle. As she neared the sound, Kwea stayed close to the weakened walls for some protection from the blastercanons. The Emperor’s voice came over saying, “"Haretisch, you best have won the battle down there as we've already lost the one up here. It's Abeloth."

Abeloth!? Bringer of Chaos? Beloved Queen of the Stars?. This was the entity that even the Jedi and Sith combined had struggled to kill. Now she was back…

Kwea knelt by the gloved hand that was sticking out from the debris. It was moving as if trying to grasp something. Using her normal strength, she removed some of the smaller pieces of the ceiling and the wall. There were several big pieces and Kwea began to use the Force to push and pull them away. Uncovering the body, she bit her lip and blinked back the tears in her eyes. It was the Night Herald. He didn’t have much strength in him. Quickly wiping her tears for fear of the other Sith seeing them, Kwea gently shook her former Master’s arm. “Master? Master, what are we supposed to do?”

Tags: Darth_wanderguard dragonsith13, Moonspun Dragon, QueenSabe7

 

Darth Hades
Shuttle, Desert, Moraband

Hades looked to Ravenous as he spoke. "Let's Go Home..." Hades nodded his approval.​

​

I fear we have far more to contend with before anyone goes home.​

​

TAG: WookieeRage, Lady Belligerent, Snokers

 

IC:Lord Manticore
Aboard the Ferel

Rev’an's ship was putting as much distance between itself and the Wrath of Vader, which top portions Abeloth-Mnggal was beginning to cover.

The force grew ever darker as the threat increased and the window of opportunity narrowed.

Manticore's mind analyzed his current options. His fiery gaze remained on the three grenades Re’van had given him. The fact that they had timers was an added bonus. It was something he could definitely use.

Commandeering the Golan Stations was also a good idea, though they looked to be engaged.

Within his mind, something else stirred, a tale told to him by his dead master, Lord Anguish. At the time, he was still young, and believed that the nagai darksider simply wished to terrorize him, prod fear into him, so he could later teach him how to burn it with his hate.

Of course, he had always believed the tale to be fantastical fiction-until now.

The Ooze, Malefic Mucosa, Skin of Evil, Mnggal Mnggal. It is corruption and cruelty given viscous form. Some say that only a single drop survived from where it came from- and a drop is all it takes.

The Ooze is immortal and takes its time, as it makes contact with a sentient being, infecting it, controlling it, then consuming it. It can invade you through your nose, your mouth, your very pores. How do you fight it? No one knows.

It can take any shape or form. Humanoid, animal, land dweller, sky dweller, sea monster. It eats you from within, digesting you slowly. Imagine feeling yourself die in such a manner, powerless to stop it- such absolute despair, such perfect anguish.

But what is a single being, compared to a village, a city, a continent, a planet? Mnggal could in time, posses an entire space faring species and take to the stars- and infect…well, a star system. Did you know that Mngaal is a singe creature, even when split into a million parts? Amazing, don’t you think? An army unto itself.

But oh, what is a being, if not a force sensitive one. Imagine if you would, Ooze, so powerful, that it could jump from planet to planet, unperturbed by the rigors of space. It would come like a dark liquid mass and blot out the sky, rain down like a gentle mist, or with the force of grenades, it didn’t really matter. The end would be the same. A star system would be lost…

And so, the ooze would grow, several parsecs in size, making its way to the center of the galaxy, consuming all in its path, where the stars and planets were closest. What a feast of energy and matter!

Who or what could stop it now?

It is said, by some, that it had taken forever for it to consume entire galaxies, that the universe, space itself, became fluid. All was Mnggal Mnggal!

However, the ooze had miscalculated. With nothing left to sustain it, such a mass could not subsist. Entropy and decay it was, the massive entity began to collapse on itself. It could not even devour its own mass fast enough to prevent its own collapse, and in time, it was destroyed by its own, insatiable and ravenous appetite. Just like a collapsing star, but infinitely larger, the Ooze became the instrument of its own destruction.

Its own reality was torn apart!!

Of that universe, there was nothing and no one left-except for a single, tiny, sticky, little, drop.

Clearly, the nagai was lying. Such exaggerations were laughable- but one look outside the viewport did make him wonder, if fantasy had become reality.

Perhaps he only needed three grenades to set off a proper chain reaction.

Never mind that he was already twice spent and broken, or that the Ferel was swiftly moving away from his intended target.

Manticore let out a low growl.

One thing was certain.

Abeloth-Mnggal had to be stopped at all costs!!

 

Combo post with the intimidatingly talented Sinrebirth

IC: Darth Anark & Abeloth
Not there...



The Army of the Dead's declaration, self cannibalism and strafing was the signal for something all the worse.

But not for Anark. No, the apprentice of the Emperor was in his own world, with his temptress, come traitor, come slave. Their world was nothing more than a bed, the majority of the covers unceremoniously unfurled on the floor, and an assortment of clothes dotting the ground. His mask was on the wall beside his lightsaber, hung as if ornaments. The room was strobed with sunlight; an apartment on one of the highest towers of Coruscant, so high that no other building reached its height, and the skyhooks and satellites were, by design, higher than this level between the City and the Stars. Outside the window would be serenity and clouds and blue skies. A between place where twilight existed and peace and order were in harmony.

This place was a creation of his mind, as too was the woman stirring beside him. There was space between him and her, a separation that had occurred overnight. She had slept on her side, and as she rolled to look at him she tugged the bedsheet up to her chest and pulled her face up from the pillow, a smile filled with happiness and joy.

'Morning sweetie.'

Tarkana greeted him.

All the anxiety and paranoid thoughts of his peers judging him a loon could now be proven to be unfounded. He'd been seeing her a lot recently and now she was laid next to him. He was not insane. She was here.

He turned to lay on his side and locked eyes with Tarkana Sydon, his bruised and scarred upper torso exposed. He ran four fingers through her hair and rested his palm against the nape of her neck.

"I knew you'd come back." His words, accompanied by a wide smile, came out soft, almost a whisper.

Anark gazed around the room, the morning sunlight added to the euphoria. He had a thousand things to say to her. He had love to declare to her and yet he didn't know where to begin.

Something seemed off, the incessant twitch in his left eye he'd experienced wince awaking from stasis was still and the usual background noise of air traffic and busy lives that was part of the Coruscant package was muted. The Sith apprentice grabbed a small blanket that had found its way onto the floor after the events of the night before, he wrapped it around his waist and walked around the bed to close the curtains that fluttered in the soft breeze of the open window, his eyes never leaving hers as he stepped.

He reached the window and broke the intoxicating gaze for a moment. He stepped out onto a balcony which was adorned with two elegant sculptures on either side. He walked forward and rested his hands on the railing. As he looked down there was a parting in the clouds where he could see a rabbit hole view of the ground far below.

Anark's heart sank.

He twisted himself around, almost causing whiplash in his neck, he looked back to Tarkana who was still smiling, caressing the bed sheets between her fingers.

"No." He slammed both hands into his temples. Tears were coming.

"You're dead."

Tarkana frowned. 'Dead, my love? I have never been dead before,' she gave him an amused smile. 'Very funny. You saved me, remember? You convinced me that the Jedi were fools and that it was only through the Sith - through you - that my eyes could be opened.'

Her gaze seemed to wonder. 'We made love for the first time atop the still burning wreckage of the Senate dome as the rain lightly fell upon us.' The memory rose unbidden.

'It has been so many years, my Emperor, since you had a nightmare about the war.' She held the sheet to her chest with one arm and held her hand out with the other. 'Come, return to bed. Show me your prowess before the slaves need your attention today.'

There was a glint in her eye which was all. The sheet was a flimsy protection at best, and her hair fell on down on her shoulders; bedraggled, but not untidy, it was purely out of sorts due to the ferocity of the night before.

More memories.

More moments.

His face twisted into a momentary frown before the lines were smoothed out and his heart rate steadied, his smile returning. Retracing his steps, he touched the mask hanging on the wall with his fingertips and done the same with his lightsaber - which had remained unchanged even after the years of rising through the ranks to become Emperor.

Anark bent over and propped himself up on the bed on two fists which sunk lightly into the mattress with the reinforced weight of impressive biceps. He laughed softly but audibly as he stalked along the bed towards Tarkana, feeling the rawest essence of the Dark Side reverberating through his entire body, so much so that he shook his head rapidly from side to side like a feral creature in an effort to cast some of it aside. He leaned in close and held her cheek in his hand.

"Do you see now, my treasure, the necessity of the darkness? Look at what I've built for us."

He took her and kissed her lips.

Tarkana giggled as his passion - primal, powerful, incredible - buffeted her and the smile became hungry, as she returned it. This was love in all its forms - eros, pragma, philia, ludus, storge, agape - and it was a rising tide, ready to meet her and consume him in a rising tide where two would become one, again, and again, the only thing separating them being when their breath left them.

Their lips met, her hand separating. One up his broad chest, catching the grooves of his scars - one catching the back of his head, drawing him close. She rose up in the bed to meet him, small against his form, as open to him as he was to her -

Her fingers were not catching the grooves of his scars anymore, they were digging into them, drawing blood -

Her hand was not cupping his head, it was enmeshing his throat and crushing his larynx -

Her hair was no longer on her shoulders but writhing as it adopted a white sheen -

Her lips were no longer pressed to his but consuming, she bit at his cheek and out through it, throwing her head out in exultation, tasting his metaphorical blood -

When her face returned to face his, her eyes had been replaced with black voids and pinprick pupils, her lips cutting at Tarkana's face -

No, it was still Tarkana, her body, her face, her sense, her feel -

It wasn't Tarkana.

It was Abeloth.

And she had him.

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed with everything he had in an attempt to break her embrace, whimpering in pain and sweat beginning to seep from his pores. Her grip was titanium. He screamed in her face, struggling to pry his own eyes away from the ominous white stars inside hers. His arms shook as they grew weak from pushing against what looked like a petite female against his form but which was proving to be an immovable object.

He wasn't sure if he'd managed to overpower the thing or if it had released him but after pounding his tightly clenched fists against her shoulders a few more times he tumbled backward off the bed, hitting his head hard on a wall when he came to a stop. Darth Anark didn't have the presence of mind to check if the garment around his waist was still secure before getting shakily to his feet and drawing himself up to his full height.

"You-"

His words were broken, voice cracked and alternating between high and low as emotion poured out of him. He was so confused, so disillusioned with the real and the constructed.

Abeloth.

Tarkana.

Abeloth.

Tarkana.

He reached for his temples once more and began to beat on them with his palms. The Sith looked around the room, his eyes wild, looking everywhere but the bed. He marched over to the wall on the opposite side of the room, releasing long, drawn out whines and choking on his own saliva as he strode. Upon reaching his target he put both hands on the wall, arms spread wide as well as his fingers and headbutted the solid structure over and over and over again. He spoke in Durese, one derogatory word for every time he smashed his scull into the panel, going faster and faster until the intervals between hits narrowed to just one second each, his words becoming gibberish as he slowed and fell to his knees.

He was dazed. In more ways than one. Blood trickled down his face and he felt his forehead begin to smart all over.

The volcano of senseless rage erupted.

He turned around, took two attempts to pull himself up and when he did he lunged toward the thing still sitting in the centre of the bed, an hand outstretched ready to close around it's throat.

Abeloth let him fall off the bed, let him choke, let him shudder, let him struggle, let him birth this utter and unfathomable disgust.

She adorned herself in clothes, a light fitting robe upon Tarkana's shape and form, given life by his imagination. The start she had taken from the minds of everyone else she had done into. Manticore especially had a firm impressive of the slave, and Hesper a peripheral sense, something that Mnggal-Mnggal had skirted from her mind while throttling her.

Abeloth was almost laughing at him as he beat himself into a fury, trying and trying and trying not to hurl, not to collapse, not to break, not to burst, not to explode and shatter and actually die. She was positively devouring his repulsion as he sank to the floor, moving to his side of the bed and sitting on her knees to watch.

And then he launched for her, hand on her throat. She fell back with him, tentacles drawing him closer, drawing him atop her, snaking a tentacle around his throat, around his waist, the slime on the appendages sticking his skin. 'Yes, my dear. Love me. Love what we have made.'

He struck her face continuously, feeding her more and more. Abeloth was taking a finger and rummaging in all the cracks of his already broken mind. He waged war within himself, trying to remember the moment before he'd abruptly woken up beside her but couldn't. They had married, fought, and made amends. She had stood by him as he'd unseated Insipid, re-molded the Empire and taken down all who opposed him. The name 'Anark' had lost it's meaning after a short time of rising to power. Anarchy was not the key to leading a dark brotherhood with the power to shape the galaxy into whatever he desired, order was. He no longer saw walking corpses, felt insects scuttle between his eyes or experienced days on end of manic paranoia. Tarkana had fixed him.

Suddenly, as if he were in the direct path of a fast approaching vehicle, he stopped. His face dropped and became plain. Unreadable. He hoisted up his top half in a dead silence staring blankly at the headboard. Still straddling her, he slowly tilted his head back in a series of robotic stops and starts until he was facing the ceiling. A guttural chuckle started and grew louder, it transformed into uncontrollable laughter as he heard it, heard the voice. It hadn't had anything to say for what seemed like a decade in the Sith's mind but now, it spoke.

'Look at her. She's a beautiful, beautiful firefly!'

His outburst was settling now into a controlled snigger of mild amusement. He'd never been happy to hear it before but he welcomed it with open arms today, it was real, and yet it wasn't at the same time. But it was normal. Something that made a lot more sense than him laying in the bedroom suite of a regal skyscraper on the capital world with a woman he'd thrown from a similar one for betraying him.

The voice, Vektor, his own addled brain, had come to his aid.

Vektor spoke again.

'Take her with us.'

He smiled a gleeful smile and longed for the internal dialogue to continue. It ceased and fell silent.

Anark looked down from the ceiling and instead of seeing Tarkana Sydon beneath him, he saw the Mother.

Blows hammered at her face to no avail; all she did was grin, a rivulet of his blood still running down her face from where she had gashed apart his cheek. But he managed to draw his head back against her grip, to look away from her, and she punished him by driving her tentacles into his scars to tease open and split the wounds anew, burrowing into his chest as she held him close.

Abeloth suddenly recognised that her shape had changed from that of Tarkana's to that of her original form, and somehow Anark had managed to influence her. As she absently held him and strained her tentacles to close his throat, she recognised that there was an additional layer to him that she had not yet pierced, that this Anark was surface to his thoughts and she had potentially underestimated him.

Vektor was an internal stream of thought that belonged to Anark, verging on another on a separate personality. It was not too dissimilar to Darth Insipid, who had tiered his conscious, subconscious and unconscious and was thus prone to acting in ways the Emperor was unable to anticipate but also in a manner which she could not anticipate. The mentality to confound a Celestial - the secret Insipid had ripped from the Holocron of Darth Gorog, and that Soa had learned in his treachery against the true masters of the Infinite Empire - the Shadow Gods of the Sith themselves.

Anark was learning this without guidance. Whether as an unconscious echo of Darth Insipid or on his own, it represented a skill which could shatter her own probe within his mind.

She could be repulsed.

If she had been as weak as she was when inside Daala, that is.

Now, with Mnggal-Mnggal to hand as a font and the Terror of the Sith and Jedi as her sustenance, it simply meant she would have to drive deeper still.

And so she shifted her tentacles to stretch his shoulders back and increase the pressure; soon she would have sufficient purchase to split his chest open and in she would dive to a deeper level of consciousness.

Assuming she was correct.

If not, he'd just be dead.

No matter.

It was a mistake she was willing to make.

The Sith continued to rebel against the relentless piercing of her tentacles. The sensation inside his body, inside his very soul was alien, a feeling that could not be described to one who hadn't experienced it first hand. As the felt the separate entity within him struggle to rise to the forefront he saw Abeloth's illusion begin to collapse. The open window now flickered between warm sunlight and cold darkness as if someone were flicking a switch. Patches of the ceiling above him morphed into the ceiling of the shuttle that had rescued he and the other Sith from the havoc on the mountain pass.

He looked back into those black eyes, noticing intricate detail inside the white stars that were the celestial's pupils.

She whispered...

"Just let it happen."

He would feel himself growing weaker and weaker, the blood now staining on his bare chest as his face leaked from her bite.

What did he know about Abeloth? He was in the clutches of one of the most powerful...things to have ever existed.

The illusion of the beautiful Coruscanti skyscraper suite was beginning to steady again, only flickering a small amount now, the rabbit hole's into reality on the ceiling sewing themselves closed again. Anark made a last ditch attempt to string his sets of consciousness together and tried to project an overwhelming feeling of isolation and loneliness on his opponent. The look in Abeloth's eyes changed, a frown manifesting on her face. She shivered, serrated teeth chattering in her mouth as if the temperature of the room had suddenly dropped below zero.

But this was short lived.

She refocused her gaze on him, the white pinpricks dilating and brow lining with anger.

It hadn't been enough. Her tentacles found purchase and she tore through. The young Sith screamed in agony, feeling himself literally being split in two as she made deadly use of her prized weapons.

She ripped.

His rib cage snapped, and splattered out across their bed. The white sheet was marred, no longer pristine and clean and brilliant.

She cast aside the right cage, ripping off it and taking the joint that attached the arm with it. 'Oh look. I was right.'

And then there was a blast of black energy and she was rebuffed, flung into the window, a spider of cracks flowing through it. Abeloth was more interested than hurt, dropping to the floor and snaking her arms under the bed. With no effort she flipped it, intending to use its mass to crash him - whoever he was - into the far wall and daze him long enough to shove her tentacles down his throat.

She would have him now.

He lunged sideways in the nick of time, evading the overturned bed and lay prone on the floor with eyes locked on her.

He was utterly bewildered. How was he still breathing after she unwrapped him like a sick, fleshy gift. He had gone from feeling as though he was being skinned alive to feeling fine, save for a slight numbness that seemed to hum through his entire body.

He examined himself as he lay flat on his front on the hardwood and realised that he was completely naked, the slime from her tentacles which had stuck and matted itself against the hair on his arms was nowhere to be seen, nor was the crimson canvas of blood that had gathered down his chest and abdomen.

His instincts were telling him to reach out with the Force and attempt an attack with his lightsaber but his brain all but assured him that she could snap the hilt without moving a muscle. It seemed she could do whatever she wished.

She could.

He was in her house.

The stripped and weakened man pulled himself up off the floor and addressed the Mother in a tone masked by false confidence.

“Tell me, what is it you desire? What is the end game here...” he paused then spat her name at her, “Abeloth?”

Abeloth hissed. He was powerful when stripped of his shell. When his uncertainty was gone. When his anarchy was no more.

He definitely had a final piece to his personality. 'I am seeking a Father for my Family. I need to curry his favour... But we shall also need a Son, and a Daughter.' She stood, taking a step towards the wall mounted weapons and mask, keeping her eyes on his. 'You are out of time, like me. Sealed away, for a century and a half. Do you not want to rebuild what you lost? To retake the power you abandoned in the wake of the Empire's fall?'

She was also stepping away from the window. Abeloth knew that his sureness of spirit meant that she could not manipulate the room any longer. Otherwise she would have opaqued the glass and made it a wall. Now she had to go for subtlety, before he was certain of his nature.

'Don't you want the love of Tarkana?'

He raised an arm and swept the sweat away from his eyes with it. He bent down, his eyes never leaving hers and picked up the linen blanket that had found it's way onto the floor again after he'd shed his former skin like a reptile. He wrapped it around his waste once more and secured it.

He could not deny that her offer was enticing, and he could see now that she had the ability to take on the form of one of the only people to show him understanding and reinforcement in his life - save for the Sith Empire - Abeloth could probably maintain Tarkana's form for a lifetime, an eternity, and bestow power upon him he could only dream of in this realm.

"A Sith." he muttered to himself as he closed his eyes.

"Speak up, my dear." The menacing hiss in her voice hadn't gone away.

He opened his eyes again and brought his head to face her.

"I am a Sith."

Abeloth rolled her eyes in disdain.

In a flash, he lunged for his lightsaber hanging on the wall they both stood at opposite ends of. Abeloth followed suit and made for the only other thing within reach, his makeshift mask.

The blade shot out of its hilt as he raised it high above his head, standing within inches of her now. She bellowed in protest and raised the heavy mask up in an effort to sheild herself. The saber cut it cleanly in two and she fell backwards onto the floor. As he brought the humming blade up again to strike her, she raised a hand and it flew from his hand to the other side of the room. She rose to her feet in front of the window, clearly not amused.

He looked her up and down, his face twisted in an inquisitive gaze.

Why did she grab the mask? Why not just send him flying or manifest behind him... or something? Anything. He thought.

She resumed her calm composure once again.

"Let us end this now." She reached out her hand for him to take. "Come with me and we can begin to build." Her hair soared in the air, caught in the current of the wind flowing from the balcony.

A smile almost touched his lips but he suppressed it as he realized she needed that shield. Without his doubt and lack of spirit to draw upon, she could no longer manipulate their surroundings.

He took his chance.

Roaring at the top of his lungs, he charged at her, both arms outstretched to push her from the balcony as he had the woman she was masquerading as before.

If he had to die with her, no... it, he would.

Abeloth tipped. He had bested her; seized control of his mind and done so well. She had found the Son for her Family. Only the Daughter remained.

She let him push her, cackling to herself. Their world began to crumble as she let go of their connection. Her arm looped around his throat as she went over, pulling him close as they fell. She licked his face. 'Mine'

And then she let go and he dropped back into his body with a mental thud.

His cheek was still bleeding.

"You can't hit the ones scaling the wall! It'll come down with them with this shuttle's firepower!"

Erron's voice seeped into his mind through the haze as his surroundings came into focus. He felt the gash on his cheek and grimaced when the sweat on his hand touched the wound. His pilot friend turned to face him.

"Lord Anark! Your face!"

Erron reached down and attempted to pull him up. The Sith apprentice stayed where he was, not so much refusing to move as being to deep in thought for his mind to register the gesture.

Had any time passed at all?

"Sir... what's wrong?"

He didn't know how to respond. That last image of the world crumbling around them as they free-fell from the balcony and it's architect caressing his face with not a hand but a tongue.

"She lives." He said aloud.

​

TAG: WookieeRage Lady Belligerent E. L.Knight​

 

IC: Darth Syren
Sith Temple, Central Foyer

Time appeared to slow as several events transpired in quick succession.

Grim satisfaction blossomed in Syren as her blade tore through the grey skin and ancient muscle of Darth Eranikus. Black ooze sprayed outwards as the weapon carved a lopsided, macabre smile onto his face. It certainly left its mark, albeit not the one she had hoped for. It was of no matter.

She had help finishing the job.

Lady Arach had once again employed some sort of Sith sorcery of the mind to hinder the imposter before Syren broke her deception and struck. Immediately following the assaults of both women, an unknown assailant entered the fray to speedily attack at Eranikus’ knees. She focused on her new comrade as his blade was nothing more than a blur to her eyes, striking true and forcing their foe down to his knees. His pain could be felt rippling out through the Force and she hungrily drank it in.

The wounded general clutched at his face and suddenly let loose a barrage of wild Force Lightning. As the powerful bolts arced out in all directions, Syren swiftly reached to ignite a single lightsaber for protection. In that very same instant she felt a sinister current pulse through the Force, noticeably darkening it. This was an ancient and evil darkness that was eerily similar to the presence she had encountered within the Eye of Hoth. The presence that knew her, that called her name…

Her crimson blade shot to life in time to shield herself from the brunt of the charged attack jarring the apprentice back to the present. The slight distraction had delayed her to action just enough so that a glancing fork of lightning caught her right shoulder. Searing her exposed flesh, a scream escaped her lips as she was forced down to the ground. Syren groaned in pain and raised her free hand to clutch at the wound. Across the foyer she eyed Lord Haretisch as a roar of noise filled the space from overhead to cancel out all other sound.

Realization hit her as she saw the Sith Lord raise a hand to lift her and her companions. “NO!” Syren shouted as she became airborne, flinging a hand out to seize her fallen dagger with the Force. It was recalled to her grip as she was thrown forcibly out the entryway from which she had come. The foyer went up in a blaze of fire and debris just as she cleared the threshold and Eranikus disappeared into the chaos as she collided hard with the stone floor of the corridor. A heated shockwave of the aerial assault sent a torrent of dust and small debris down over her body as she quickly curled up on her side to cover her face and head.

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. In a haze of dust, Syren pushed herself up to her feet with a now-extinguished saber hilt still clenched in one hand and her beloved vibroblade in the other. Replacing both weapons to their respectful places, she then slowly turned her head to peer down at her shoulder. It was not a large wound, but there was still a good bit of damage. It also burned like hell.

“Kriiiiiiffffff,” she growled through clenched teeth as she rotated the joint and surveyed the battleground. None of her fellow Sith could be seen amidst the wreckage. “Master!” She called. Feeling out through the Force she sensed someone… unfamiliar. Walking back into the now unrecognizable foyer, she crawled over piles of stone and permacrete to find the young woman she had briefly noticed upon first entering this room. She was eagerly clearing debris off of something. Closing in as the last piece was removed, she saw it was a body. It belonged to the Night Herald. Syren crept up behind the brunette as she spoke to him, nudging his arm as she did so.

“Master? Master, what are we supposed to do?”

Lightly stepping over to Haretisch’s side, she noted his weakened presence in the Force. After his injury from the duel, this would be expected. She was relieved he was alive, nonetheless. Not knowing if he would be able to stand, Syren looked towards the girl as she knelt and grasped under his arm with a hand. “We have to get him on his feet.” Grimacing, she began to try and lift him up.

With Eranikus now dead and defeated the battle tide would turn and surely lead to victory. The thought did nothing to calm her frayed nerves. An urgency she couldn’t quite place still whispered to her instincts that there was something else at play here. The darkness she had felt… it was still very much in their midst.


TAGS: Darth_wanderguard Moonspun Dragon Halle Dray dragonsith13

 

V-3PO
Sith Temple -- Library Lower level -- Korriban

The sound of explosions did not cease and the faint sound and screech of fighters could be heard even through the thick stone and durasteel structure walls of the temple. An shudder rocked in close proximity causing V-3PO's internal equilibrium calibration unit to have to quickly correct as he stumbled forward sightly. "Who in the blazes!?!?! I swear if another apprentice is lighting off Shyracks for target practice!" V-3PO showed an unusually high amount of annoyance for things happening around him as he aspersed the younger inhabitants of the temple grounds. He saw a small cylinder fly past his photo receptors focusing on the item and quickly identifying it as a class 2 grenade. V-3PO ducked into a doorway as the debris from the small explosion flew by in the hallway he was standing in one brief moment ago. "I'll shove the next grenade I see up that beings trash chute!" V-3PO spat out uncharacteristically for a droid, as he moved back into the hallway shuffling towards the main library chamber.

V-3PO rounded one of the long library passages shuffling through a few racks. Noticing that one of the holocrons he had just recently cleaned was missing. He swore that thing moved on its own. Though V-3PO had once done such himself, re-categorizing dozens of the libraries holocrons and reorganizing them throughout the library. It had taken the Lorekeeper, master months to figure out where they had all gone and subsequently put them back in their original places. V-3PO had planted the reorganizing datapad in Rabik's satchel, the whole thing was blamed on that cur of a boy. V-3PO thought he had experienced some sort of programming overload that day as he heard master punish Rabik repeatedly.

"Statement: Master it seems as if...." V-3PO's statement was cut short as he came about into the main library chamber which was a mess, fires were everywhere as the library was ablaze, bookshelves engulfed with debris scattered everywhere. Even a large hole had been torn in one of the library walls, where armored troopers lay still, slain on the ground. V-3PO's head turned from side to side back and forth several times as he was bewildered by the library in utter shambles.

....Oh how much I would love to just let this place burn... He thought to himself, but that was replaced by protocol as emergency protocol kicked in. Master was no where to be seen, as if everyone had suddenly left.

Executing emergency protocol 21451. I did not take long for a cadre of cleaning droids to emerge and begin spraying many of the fires with foam. One of them being the droid from earlier that was suppose to have disposed of Rabik. The droid focused on a bookshelf as it sprayed foam back and forth on one of the shelves. V-3PO was subtle as he shuffled over, forcefully brushing into the cleaning droid which whirled around as it began to tip over, landing with a thud as its two short legs flailed in the air, as it was stuck on its side. V-3PO shuffled back towards the direction of the collapsed library wall, the cleaning droid beeping incessantly at him as he ignored it. as if having knocked it over by total accident. The outside sounds of fighters and blaster fire was more audible as he approached the collapsed wall, now viewing the visible temple surrounding grounds from the breach.

"Ooooooh great in-va-ders." V-3PO's blank expression staring as he watched a transport light into flames as fighters screeched by. Blaster and heavy cannon fire from the surrounding heights and temple was exchanged back and forth. It was at this point V-3PO had tapped into the temples network compiling situational data and updates of what was going on. An anti-aircraft turret, seemingly one of the last ones active in the temples defense grid, rotated and rose tracking a fighter quickly blasting it out of the sky. V-3PO controlling the turret tracked a second fighter unleashing another barrage of blaster fire and downing a second fighter. The gun crew surrounding the turret looked puzzled as they tried to figure out how the turret was being overridden. One of the turret barrels rotated as the turret spun slightly slamming into one of the gun turrets crew members knocking him down the side of one of the temple walls. V-3PO watched tracking the falling body, leaning forward as he followed the being which smacked into the ground hundreds of feet below. V-3PO straightened up focusing on the turret as he tracked another fighter, unleashing another string of blaster fire. Taking down a third fighter, when he felt a bump as he lurched forward slightly catching himself before falling forward through the library breached wall. The cleaning droid he had knocked over was returning the favor, trying to unbalance and knock him over. V-3PO avoided the cleaning droids next attempt as the droid came close to the wall breach. A subtle kick sent the cleaning droid out the breach and careening down, plummeting and ending with a slight explosion as one of its fuel cells erupted on impact. Again V-3PO straightened up after having watched the droid fall to its demise, his curiosity quickly turning to concern with the lack of audible sounds of foam. V-3PO turned seeing that a good amount of the initial library fires were under control, but was concerned to notice all of the cleaning droids had stopped momentarily alerted to the proximity alarms of the cleaning droid that had been destroyed. Their photo-receptors focused on him as he stared back at him. "See what happens!" V-3PO referring to the cleaning droid now merged with the duracrete hundreds of feet below... "Back to work the lot of you! Master will turn you all to scrap if this place burns!" With that the droids all buzzed and whirled back into action beeping as they sprang back to fighting the fires within the library. V-3PO began systematically engaging many of the force fields around some of the more valuable items within the library. Shielding them from further damage.

Data reports were showing a decrease in attacking forces and hits sustained against the temple.

V-3PO's integrated com-link activated. Opening up a channel to his master, the Lorekeeper of the library.

"Concerned inquiry: Master where are you?"

"Non-concerned statement: Some of your books are burning master."

@Mikaboshi DarthIshyZ Mitth_Fisto Lady Belligerent

 

Draconis
Great Temple, Great Hall/Central Foyer

Smoke and dust filled the air as the sound of stone and rock crumbling ever so slightly was audible, as traces of debris separated from once intact structure. Pauses in this sequence allowed a moment of clarity as the chaos began to subside. High above the sound of fighters in the distance could still be heard with the distant thunder and rumble of heavy artillery becoming less and less. Snapping back into the moment Draconis' eyes focused. The first thing coming to mind having been the words from moments before, though hazy they had been cataloged and understood. This sudden clarity was overshadowed by the ringing in his ears which was piercing, preventing him from being able to gather his full thoughts. Draconis rolled onto his back staring up at the sky, grimacing from the sudden pain. The temple roof covering the main foyer was now gone. A few stone slabs again fell to the ground breaking free from a column that had given way from the inherent destruction mere seconds before. A flash of recognition, the sound of the screech of fighters and feeling of weightlessness briefly and then sudden impact... Briefly Draconis had heard a voice before it all, bringing his attention to Haretisch and recognizing the voice over the comm link as that of the Emperor's. A name put forth. Abeloth... Draconis was confused and yet drawn to it. Recent significance driving him towards the family.

Draconis recollected events that had happened seemingly moments before as he had felt his blade slice through Eranikus' tendons in the back of his knees and seen the spray of black ooze as the Sith warrior kneeling in front of Eranikus had successfully played out her ruze and in doing so sprung and landed a surprise attack, landing a gashing strike into his jaw and face. A third Sith had even coddled Eranikus, sultrily baiting him with her touch and lulling him further into a defenseless state. Another apprentice had begun her attack mid-air poised to land another critical strike, the combo of the four of them surely poised to bring Eranikus to the point of defeat. It was at this moment that things went blank.

And thus the room was a mess, littered with rubble and debris. Draconis grunted as he flexed briefly his hands contracting into fists as feeling came back to his extremities. Blinking as his vision came into clear focus. Rising to his knees and then standing as he surveyed the now roofless foyer. Clasping his sword as he drew it out from underneath a slab of stone... sheathing it quickly as he moved forward. Emerging from one of the doorways which was severely damaged and now crumbling, Draconis began to survey the area, searching for the fellow Sith whom had been engaged. Emerging from the chaos were two of the Sith whom had been involved before, both of them scouring the debris for signs of survivors. One in particular.

“Master? Master, what are we supposed to do?” Draconis heard one of them exclaim as she sifted through rubble and debris grasping at something. The other Female warrior crept up near to her as she searched alongside her. Soon having revealed something as they unearthed a body, barely moving, nor responding. Upon their discovery one of the stating. “We have to get him on his feet.”

Lord Harestich. Draconis recognized him, buried and near death. Draconis came up behind the two female Sith as they began to brace Harestich's body as they tried to lift him up. Draconis quickly recognized several wounds on the man. Draconis moved in between the two ladies, paying attention to the fact that they were trying to bring Harestich to his feet and begin to get him aid. However Draconis did not hesitate in acting... Draconis pressed his hand against Harestich's side and mid section severely burned and pulsating with plasma and blood. Forcibly pressing against the wound to measure it, but also going one step further. Seeking out and drawing in the state of his body and organs. No doubt his actions causing a great deal of pain to the Triumvir Lord, but necessarily.

"His organs are intact.... mostly." Draconis stated plainly as he had almost appeared out of nowhere, sliding in between them. IT was obvious that the Triumvir Lord was severely wounded and no doubt he was bleeding heavily from the impacts of tons of rock crashing and burying him. "Hold here!" Draconis grabbed the Sith female's (Syren) arm, whom had kneeled before Eranikus, without warning... pressing is against a wound from the crushing stones on Harestich. "And focus on it!" Instructing the young woman to focus her thoughts and energy... Draconis did not know if the young Sith knew anything of darkside healing, but Harestich seemed to not have that luxury right now. "You!" Draconis addressed the other Sith female (Kwea), the one whom had come so close to landing her areal death from above maneuver. Draconis could see they were all still guarded, watching over their shoulders as a mist of darkness still hung in the air amidst the chaos of now settling dust and debris. "Keep him still." Draconis finished his address to her, as his hand moved from the wound where he had been holding previously, the spot where he had instructed the other Sith to now press against. Draconis' hand rose to Harestich's forehead. Draconis could tell he was weakened, struggling to regain his focus and strength, but still drained. How easy it would have been... Draconis pressed his fingers and then palm against his head... arcane and lost techniques... channeling.

There was little time as they could all feel something still amiss... the focus was stabilizing the Triumvir Lord. Draconis' eyes closed as he pressed his hand against Harestich's forehead channeling a life-ward into him. Draconis opened his eyes... stopping and recalling his hand from Harestich's forehead.

"That will buy us sometime." Draconis spoke to the two Sith holding Harestich as he turned scanning the room. Draconis stared continuing to scan about, as he stepped forward bringing his hand about and over his back seeking out his sword. Poised to draw the weapon if needed.

@Darth_wanderguard QueenSabe7 Moonspun Dragon Halle Dray

 

The Lorekeeper
Moraband, Temple Exterior

Still reeling from his encounter with Abeloth he gave no sense of urgency to the task with which he was assigned, not that he would have otherwise, at the present moment he was preoccupied with adjusting to the new dominant being within his mind. The rebuke of Andeddu by Abeloth has left him silenced, the awakened spirit of Cruor attempted to take his place but it was the Sickness that won the day.

The Lorekeeper could feel it already burrowing deep into his thoughts, securing it's hold on him, it swept into his soul like a black cloud and consumed what was left of his free will.

By the time he had reached the shuttle so to had the Dark Lady and Jwob, the Ithorian should not have survived, not on his own. It was then that the hammerhead revealed a secret he had been keeping and presented the forgotten holocron from earlier, before the attack, "This... spoke to me. Helped me. I don't want it right now, though. I'm not strong enough."

The Arcanist glared at the Ithorian, he had not yet forgotten the window from before, then turned his sight upon the amulet in his hand. It spoke to him? Maybe Jwob wasn't so bad after all. With barely a gesture the item floated easily to his hand and a moment later was tucked away safely.

Turning he skulked off into the shuttle and joined Darth Kronos, though he didn't take his seat at the gun but rather he stayed near the shuttle doors, he had no idea how to work it anyway. Darth Kronos seemed more than capable, he would support the younger Sith with his sorcery. He looked to the warrior sitting at the nearby console, he seemed alone with his thoughts, something the Lorekeeper was very jealous of these days.

"Hey." His raspy voice called to Kronos, once sure he had caught his attention he pulled the amulet out of his satchel and tossed the amulet his way. "You need all the help you can get." He stated flatly.

A sudden buzzing in his satchel startled him, reaching into the bag he found his communicator. It was V3PO, the noise of the shuttle obscured the message, but he clearly heard the word "burning".

Sighing softly, his heart full of anxiety over the state of his library, he turned his sight toward the direction which they believed the assault would come from and waited. For now he would have to trust V3PO and Rakib.

Tag: Mitth_Fisto Darth Kronos DarthIshyZ Lady Belligerent

 

IC: Chimaera

The door, sealed as it was, stared back at him resolutely. Darth Invidius tasted the air with a flick of his scent tongues impatiently, getting a sense of the state of emotion. He and the Kaminoan known as Darth Cocytus, another new recruit getting used to their new name like him, had managed to crash land into the hangar of the Star Destroyer Chimaera and proceeded to promptly hunt down the surprisingly low number of passengers aboard in timely fashion. The sprays of blood and instant fear were almost intoxicating to him throughout the coarse of their self-given mission, ending eerily quiet before the sealed bridge doors. He wasn't even sure those on the bridge were aware of what was happening entirely.

They had been en route at the beginning of this mess for the surface to figure out what was going on ever since their arrival from Coruscant. But as they approached diligently, their eyes intercepted the visage of a looming threat to the temple on the ground. After a few moments of discussion, and then the dual threat of the ssi-rru and kaminoan forcing the pilot to obey; they promptly changed course for the Star Destroyer that was ready to fire. This should get the Empire's attention further. I will show Lord Manticore that his selection of me was not in vain.He turned his head to Cocytus, while fiddling with the vibroblade and blaster rifle in his hands due to not possessing a lightsaber yet unlike his counterpart, and whispered in a harsh rasp. "Lets just finish this the way we started, hm? Find a way through the door quietly before unleashing all hell on them, otherwise they'll immediately start shooting the Destroyer's weapons without hesitation. Would make this pointless. Now lets hand wrap this gift of ours for the Empire."

Darth Cocytus silently crained his long neck and stared down at his ssi-rru companion, nodding slowly. His orange sith eyes glowing vibrantly with the dark side as he examined his fellow apprentice before they narrowed into slits upon returning his attention to the durasteel doors before them. Darth Cocytus had already gotten use to his name. Infact it was refreshing to toss aside the old name of Afan Te and start this new life as a Sith. Life on the dull wet world of Kamino was nowhere near as thrilling as that of combat nor as truly educational in the ways of the dark side force. Darth Cocytu's eyes narrowed further, but his lips curled faintly into a smile in a quick thought of the distant future before curling even more upon thoughts of the massacre to come. My Lady Hesper, I shall return to you from this in triumph and entire Empire shall look upon this day with grand admiration.

"Yes." spoke the Sith Apprentice softly, finally breaking the short but eerie silence, "Let's give our friends here a little greeting." Darth Cocytus took one of his two curved lightsabers and released a crimson-white blade. The lightsaber vibrating in his hand Cocytus carved through the durasteel doors, creating an entry big enough for the two of them. "For Empire!" barked Coctytus, "Lets show these fools what it means to deal with sith."

A dozen heads perked up at once as a slab of durasteel tipped and slammed flat against the floor. Half were properly armed for a fight - clad in chrome armor and brandishing blaster rifles - while the other half carried only sidearms and wore officer attire.

The acting bridge commander was one of the latter group, and drew his blaster pistol as he spied the invaders. "Stop them!" he roared, leveled his weapon at Cocytus, and opened fire.

The room erupted into chaos as the others followed suit.

Invidius watched as Cocytus proceeded to carve his way through the doors. Simple enough given the weapon used. Still, it wasn't exactly what the ssi-ruu had meant by quiet. Then again, this was just as fun too!

His eyes turned to face the eventual collapse of the door and smirked, a few fangs showing for a brief moment. The memories of the training on Lwhekk, the battle on Coruscant, and those fiery eyes of his new master from their first meeting all filled his mind. His scent tongues flicked out once more, faster than the previous time.

"Lets," was his only reply to his companion that was only a few inches taller than himself. Those on the other side would be quite intimidated if they put stock into size, and well they should in this particular case. And since Cocytus was going in, saber humming, tactics were changed and forming rapidly in his mind. Within a minute or so, the door was open. Or rather, quite flat on the ground and the enemy was already on the defensive.

Originally, Invidius had planned to let the kaminoan take all the focus, then he'd use his stealth abilities from his assassin training to slip in and surprise them initially. You'd be surprised how fast and silent a large saurian could be. Now, he still let Cocytus take point, staying behind him for the first volley. Letting him defend against the offensive, but only for a few steps into the room. Then he quickly went around him and felt the Force rush into his strong legs, blaster firing at the soldiers, and leaped.

Invidius aimed straight for those he felt were in charge of the guns probably on the other side of the room. They were the largest threat to the mission, if not necessarily to they themselves. He made sure to land on them, the claws on his legs giving a proper greeting, vibroblade whistling through the air to any others nearby, his tail wrapping around the neck of a soldier or crew member in mid-jump along the way. It would not be pleasant when they slammed down and he'd be fully prepared to lift them up by the neck again to block any incoming fire.

As he turned around to face the rest of those on the bridge, his eyes blazed. This destroyer. Is mine.

Darth Cocytus grinned wickedly as the chrome troopers began to attack. Moving forward slowly he flexed his hand blocking each blaster bolt with soresu. With perfect elegance, the kamnioan blocked each shot, returning many to their senders and killing them. He killed many with their own blasts as he pulled his hand, giving off a blue sparky glow before unleashing a surge of sith lighting upon the enemy.

Cocytus's sith eyes then made a quick glance at Invidious and made a thin smile. The kaminoan allowed the force to flow through him and charged to the remaining troopers, igniting his second lightsaber. He switched to form V, cutting down all those who caught his eyes with his twin blades. Grinning upon sensing three others behind him, Cocytus returned to form III, blocking the blasts from behind, before making a big backflip behind them. With three swift strokes, Cocytus beheaded the middle one before striking down the remaining two. Is this all the Chimaera has to offer? he thought coldly with an internal chuckle as he struck down the bridge commander with both his blades.

Invidius stood his ground, surrounded by corpses of his own creation, while watching the kaminoan decimate the remnants of the Bridge crew. It seemed he managed to take out the majority of the soldiers and the commander himself, which irked him somewhat. He had been left with only a few soldiers and mostly crew members. He had prioritized their self-given mission and in so doing, lost out on the 'fun.'

Being the responsible one bites sometimes.Scoffing a little as the commander slumped to the ground in death after the final strike from Cocytus, Invidius sheathed the vibroblade he had received from Manticore on the shuttle previously as he moved with purpose. It didn't look like a personal weapon gifted to him or anything, so he figured the zabrak Sith Lord had picked up somewhere on Coruscant. His reptilian eyes briefly scanned the blaster rifle in his other hand, looking for any sign of further use. In the end, he saw no reason to keep it and thus tossed it aside forgotten.

"Finally, this should be the com."

Without conversing with his companion he turned it on and signaled the frequency he had been told from the pilot on their way toward the Chimaera. He also blasted it out so any on the surface could hear too. He had no idea of whom he was speaking largely, only Manticore stood out. And Cocytus was with him. Everyone else was rather quiet and been so insular with their thoughts and conversations he hadn't learned the who's who of the Empire yet. Didn't matter, all he had to do was tell them the grand surprise.

"Attention Lords of the Sith," he rasped, "it would seem you had a bit of a overlooked problem with a low orbital vessel. That is now taken care of, so let me present you with a gift…" His eyes gleamed with mischief and his sharp fangs revealed themselves as he grinned throughout his words.

"This Star Destroyer. We'll be waiting on the bridge."

Flicking off the com, he turned to his companion and shrugged, taking an uncomfortable seat as he settled in to wait for new comrades to show up. Kriffin' chairs, they were not designed for his species. Clearly.

Darth Cocytus, Darth_wanderguard, Darth_Elu

 

Battle of Moraband GM Update 1 of 3

~

In the control room, a row of technicians and the officer in charge had all braced for the end as they watched on the monitors the Chimaera angling its broad side toward the temple. Then a chime signaled an incoming message. "Captain!" a technician yelled in the control room. "Captain, the Chimaera is trying to make contact!"

"Open the line! We're lucky they haven't flattened us yet. Let's find out what they want."

"Attention lords of the Sith," a growl sounded over the comm. It was over a public line, but one to which only temple air traffic control was typically connected. Most wouldn't hear the transmission. "It would seem you had a bit of a overlooked problem with a low orbital vessel. That is now taken care of, so let me present you with a gift. This Star Destroyer. We'll be waiting on the bridge."

Cheers erupted at the announcement - technicians jumped from seats to embrace and laugh and cry, even the surly officer wiped the sweat from his brow and exhaled with a smile as he looked down at his boots in relief.

Then a stream of data flooded the monitors. "Get to your consoles!" he barked, "What in the blazes is going on?"

"It's the turrets, sir!" one technician yelled in response. "We have connection to the remote defenses! The relay room is active!"

"Get the turrets firing and cut those retreating forces up before they can form ranks again," the officer ordered, just before another round of celebrations engulfed the room. The day was nearly won.

With the temple secure, it was an easy thing to scramble a crew, and within minutes a shuttle had launched en route to the Chimaera. A trio of threats had been neutralized, but if the Empire's new capital ship left the the Wrath unmolested, it would all be for naught. Cocytus and Invidius wouldn't be alone on the ship for long.

~

IC: Darth Haretisch -- The Infinite Depths of the Mind
(Combo with Sinrebirth)

Abeloth had no need to appear as a woman from Lord Haretisch's past when she created the mindscape of his situation. All the others in the room vanished from view as she isolated him. She simply placed a tentacle around his outstretched hand and drew him from the debris.

He was weakened by the fight.

They both knew what woman would break him into pieces.

They also both, probably, knew that this was the greatest gamble she could undertake. To consume a Dark Lord of the Sith.

But she also knew that she would snap the Sith Empire's spine if she had him. He was the fulcrum on which everything leaned. She could sense it, she could taste it. It made her lips wet with anticipation.

As she drew him clear a tentacle came up around his chin and she looked into his eyes, lazily wrapping a tentacle around his weapons arm.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Abeloth.... Abeloth... The name spoken by Insipid in the moments before all had gone black reverberated in the Night Herald's mind as he was dragged from the wreckage. An empty room came into focus and he tensed, by reflex if nothing else, when he saw his sword arm immobilized by a pallid grasping tentacle. A grimace followed when he looked up - this was definitely Abeloth. A gaping, smiling, razor-filled maw and two silver twinkling pinprick eyes set parsecs deep into inky pools of black were winking him in the face.

"They said you weren't much to look at," he coughed, deadpan. "And so far I agree with them." Then he stirred uncomfortably in her grip, as a twinge of anxiety began to rise from somewhere deep inside. He squashed it quickly. "Whatever it is you're trying to do, it's a waste of time."

"I'm not trying to do anything my dear." Abeloth pulled him up, tentacles under his shoulders as she conveyed him up and towards her. Her eye seemed to flicker when his anxiety spiked, but she schooled her features.

"I simply wanted to help you up. To offer you the love that you lost so long ago. Isn't it tiring to have to fight every day? To be truly alone within yourself, no matter the other women you collect?"

Abeloth smiled sadly as she placed him on his feet, dusting off his shoulders with a tentacle, releasing him but not his wrist, but instead of binding, the nature of the curl of tentacle became that it a claiming - an intimate kinship. "Do you not think you deserve more?"

The room seemed to darken as she spoke - and his countenance darkened with it. She had spoken as though he might allow himself a measure of forgiveness. There was no forgiveness inside of him - not for himself - nor was there any goodness left which he hadn't crushed down and strained to forget. All that remained was rage and self-loathing.

"I don't collect women, you loathsome cur," his eyes flashed angrily at the mere suggestion, "and I don't try to replace things I've lost. Do you?"

He was treading on dangerous ground, if the stories he'd read were true. The story of Abeloth as usually told spoke of a Father, a Son, and a Daughter. The Ones. It spoke of The Mother, who bathed in forbidden pools for fear that her mortality would rob her of those she loved. She was twisted by the waters, into something else. And so was she left behind by The Ones, just as she had feared, left to her madness which grew like a weed and seized all in its path. And now Haretisch, for better or worse, would find out if there was indeed a kernel of truth to this tale, as there always seemed to be when dealing with myth and folklore.

The question had lingered in the air by the time he broke the silence again. "We may both have become something ugly, but we're not the same, you and I. I destroyed what I loved. You were abandoned."

Abeloth's smile became tight on her face, not nearly as pleasant. "Caution, young man. Do not mistake my politeness as an indication that we are equals." Her tone deepened. "Because we are not."

With a shrug her voice lightened. "My abandonment was a result of my destruction of the family, and vice-versa. But anything can be rebuilt. I have already a Father in mind for my new Family... But I could have a Son, perhaps?"

Abeloth stepped forward, stroking his face. "Come now, surely you could envisage yourself as a Dark Celestial beside me?" The Force grew darker still; an annoyance filtering down, or up, or around. But it did not belong to either of them.

"A Father," he replied, his face impassive as he ignored her continued overtures. He absently wondered if angering her was the best idea. "You mean him. And pray what do you think will happen to you when he is released? Do you expect him to share power? He is beyond even your ken."

"He will become my husband. You do not know of Him, Lord Haretisch. I do. I know the man you call the Left Handed Lord, the God of the Sith." Abeloth was growing angry, more angry than she had expected. This conversation was not going the way she expected.

"Once I break the last seal your little Order will mean nothing. You may think you know something, that whiny Insipid and that harlot Bellorum. But you cannot know anything because you are all nothing to me!"

With that she wrenched his body by the chin and slammed him into the ground, face-first.

Pain exploded outward from his face to every corner of his body with the impact. Definitely not the best idea. But why not see it through? Raggedly, he lifted his head and spoke through bloodied lips. "The key has already been made."

"You will never reach the final seal. You will never lock it for all eternity. You have no hope." She placed her foot on the back of his head and pressed it down, hard. But then she looked up to the sky, railing with her tentacles.

"I am Abeloth, Goddess of the Stars! I will be betrothed to Typhojem and you will be dust while we rule for eternity!"

At that moment she let go of him, incensed at not just Haretisch but the very stars themselves. Railing against the very Force that opposed her. The mindscape collapsed and everything was black and cold and quiet once more.

"Master? Master, what are we supposed to do?"

A voice broke the silence, far off at first, undulating like words spoken through water, but it came more clearly at the end as he felt himself freed from a crushing weight he hadn't even perceived before it was lifted. Then he was being dragged, and he lost focus again with the immense pain that accompanied even the slightest moment. He lingered at the edge of consciousness for a time, aware of hands and voices. Then a flicker of resolve ignited, and a cascade of energy unfurled into the farthest reaches of his veins. It wasn't the gentle warmth of the light - no, this was something else entirely. Dark side healing. More like a slap than a gentle caress, more like a splash of cold water than a warm, dry blanket. And suddenly he was awake.

With a groan he stirred, then looked up through blurry eyes at Kwea Acantha, Darth Syren, Lady Arach, and Lord Draconis. He blinked, and quietly took in his surroundings.

The foyer was in shambles, a hole in the face of the great temple, and the waning orange sunlight silhouetted the faintly screaming ships passing overhead. Eranikus was destroyed, and the Army of the Dead was being cut to ribbons by the newly active turrets. There was still the matter of the Chimaera, but given that the temple still stood (mostly), he felt it safe to assume that particular situation had worked itself out somehow. "Just-" he paused, and remained quiet for a moment. It appeared that the trio had dug him from the rubble and healed him to what extent they were able. "Just give me a second. Bleeding Sith'ari," he said as he sat up and realized his entire body was throbbing.

He wasn't entirely certain which had given him a better working over between Eranikus and Abeloth. Probably Abeloth. Looking down at the knee Eranikus had kicked nearly in half, he found the joint swollen grotesquely inside of his pant leg, and the extremity quite shredded from the knee down, presumably by a large bit of the debris in which he had been buried. His side, too, had caught a portion of the wreckage and was bleeding at a troubling rate. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground and finally took a deep breath.

"Where is Octavius?" He asked, unaware of the man's death at Kwea's hands.

Before she could answer, his comm, and hers, and that of everyone in the room and the temple, and of every Sith in the Moraband system, squealed to life all at once.

TAG: No one. See update 3 of 3

 

IC: Darth Anark
Outside the Sith Temple, Moraband...


Darth Anark, Kade Etraa, Darth Anark... Darth Vektor?- still felt bewildered and violated from his encounter with Abeloth.

A part of him had been lost. A shell shed. Obliterated by the ancient celestial that intended to destroy the Sith Empire from its core outwards. He got up to his feet, now feeling more focused than he had in a long, long time. He leveled quick glances at each of his comrades, each were hearing the words of Emperor Insipid, everyone in the grounded shuttle listening intently. He had called upon each member of the Order he headed, down to the last slave, to send their power his way, infusing him with an overdose of raw Dark Side energy which he would use to take down the self-proclaimed Queen of the stars and cast her bitter, parasitic spirit back to the abyss from whence it came.

As Anark knelt down, closed his eyes and began exerting himself, reaching outward with all the power he could conjure, he thought of a time not long ago when he'd been cornered in the senate building on Coruscant, sure to either be kept prisoner by Fel's minions or shot dead where he stood, His master, Insipid, had reached out and given him the power he needed to survive. He was going to do the same for him. For the Empire. As was everyone.

The combined might of the Sith.

Anark just hoped it would be enough.

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TAG: Everyone?​

 

Abeloth and Darth Hades

Combo post with Sinre and Knight​

Moraband and beyond.

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Enough was enough.​

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The advantage of traipsing through the Sith Empire's members looking for purchase is that she was indeed growing more powerful over most of their encounters, absorbing their fear and terror. In some places she broke even, in others she lost out, and now she had an incredible body she could keep going and going and going. The Sith had given enough power to perform essence transfer into Mnngal-Mnngal; they had cursed themselves.​

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But now she needed to make some real headway and take a second body.​

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Although Darth Ravenous had completely drove her clear with only harm done to her soul, she had withdrawn with a clump of his essence - and within it she seen his Master, and within it she had seen his sin.​

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She emerged in his mind fully formed. Tentacles flowing, eyes black with pinprick stars for pupils, lips pulled back in a hideous grin up to her earlobes. She went for the fear off her arrival to start, trepidation.​

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And she found a memory foremost in his mind. A berating from Darth Insipid - the Sith Who Ran. Abeloth giggled. 'My dear Hades,' she intoned softly. 'I have come for you. You don't need to run anymore. I will protect you.'​

​

Hades felt the invasion well before she formed in his mind. He had not been ready for this sort of attack and was caught off guard. She stood before him, terrible in all her might and he knew that the Sith were doomed. He had returned to what he thought was a new and powerful empire, but it had been a false hope. Something as terrible as she existing meant they would never be so powerful enough to truly rule. She had been waiting, watching, and now, she had sprung a trap that they could not defeat.​

She spoke to him, but what she chose to say, was not what he wanted to hear, nor was it something to appeal to him.​

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I did not and will not run. And I will not serve you. I will fight you. I have found purchase among the Sith and you will not endanger this!​

Hades ignited both of his lightsabers and brandished them. He knew, deep down, it was futile, but he wanted his displeasure with this thing known.​

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​

Abeloth decided to play this one all the more violently. She didn't need his fear - all these consumption across the breadth of the Sith had enabled her to amass the power to assume a second avatar, and as such needed his body.​

'Then fight me...'​

His lightsabers were ignited already as she darted forward, and in an eyeblink she was in-front of him, mentally yanking away from his body his hands with a mental exertion which could snap arms, tentacles driving into his chest to literally seeking to rip him open and find her entrance that way; a modicum of her intelligence focused on one of his blades and drained it of its power; she would swiftly move onto the next in a moment.​

No mercy.​

Hades did not see here move as she rushed at him. She was faster than any he had dealt with before.​

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Soon he had nothing but pain as she pulled his hands away from his body and he felt his shoulders strain. Tentacles hit him in the chest and one of his lightsaber blades flickered then faded to nothing.​

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She was more powerful than he had imagined and he knew that this was a fight he couldn't win.​

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He did not care to win. Only slow her.​

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He fell to his knees, gritting his teeth as he resisted her. He coughed up blood, the scarlet color contrasting with his pale skin. ​

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Hades looked at her and lashed out with everything he had left. He wanted her to feel pain, anguish, to fight hard to take what she wanted.​

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You can't have me......​

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The lashing cut deep, and Abeloth snarled in pain, but she was a Goddess, and to be divine was to be tormented by panic and she pressed through it. A few hours ago his strike might have found purchase, but she was not a weakened entity desperately trying to get away and heal herself, she was an inferno of power, and she could crush her foes with a thought.​

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She leaned into him, tentacles catching his neck and choking him, eyes level with his and soaking up whatever pain rippled out from him as she unerringly smiled.​

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A translucent tentacle, fatter than most, prepared itself for the finishing blow; he had met her strength with strength, but there was an apathy to his soul and they both knew it; she was a terrible thing in a Sith. She squeezed his wrist with an intention to break it, to make him drop the last functioning weapon he had.​

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'Are you ready to join me? Any... Last words?' Her smile began a grin, wanting to make absolutely clear that she controlled his fate here and now.​

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As Hades opened his mouth to give his last words she shoved her tentacle into his mouth, nudging the smaller of those around his neck up to hold his jaw open, to lock it in place, her tentacles generally completely immobilising him.​

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Beneath the surface of the largest tentacle black liquid flowed with a pump, and her smile grew hungry as the medium for which she would possess him crossed into his system, black liquid shortly writhing beneath his skin, rippling down his neck, Hades' eyes becoming filled with inky blackness and his muscles bulging beneath his clothes and his body spasming.​

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He was being filleted out; filled anew; consumed and renewed and reborn as one of her avatars.​

Panic. He'd never felt that emotion before. But now, it was all he could feel. His body was no longer his own. He could feel every second pass by as if it took a millennium. The pulsing black ichor flowed and he choked, but his body could not cough it out. He couldn't fight her, couldn't change what was happening.​

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The darkside flowed so strongly, yet Hades was unable to touch it. He felt, with each passing moment, the loss of his body as his own. ​

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His mind rebelled. NO! But it did not matter. She was in control now. ​

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Hades' mind slowly faded to black. All that stood now, was her new Avatar. Her new prize.​

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Hades was no more.​

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IC: Lord Manticore
Aboard the Ferel

Outside the ship’s viewport, he could see it clearly. The Wrath of Vader

It was the Ultimate Sith Weapon; a single ship that could destroy a planet in a blink of an eye. A ship which was being possessed by Abeloth-Mnggal, a being dubbed the Dark Celestial, Bringer of Chaos, who was now merged with a powerful extra dimensional entity. A ship which was presently besieged by the Sith’s own orbital Golan Stations, the repossessed Chimaera, and much to his surprise, the jedi flotilla. Enemies turned allies of opportunity.

But, would it be enough?

Indeed, the Force worked in mysterious ways. Even more mysterious than he could ever begin to imagine.

Lord Manticore’s communicator screeched to life. In fact, all sith communicators aboard the Ferel did. Re’van, Titus.

It was Emperor Insipid who now addressed them all.

As the Emperor spoke, Manticore listened to his words, the zabrak Sith Lord sensed what was happening in the Force. The flow of battle, the increasing level of risk, the critical moment, the ultimate gamble. The End Game. All or nothing.

The moment was here.

And Emperor Insipid was asking for everything.

Projecting from the surface of Morriband itself, the Sith High Lord could feel it clearly. Ley lines of crimson power, all converged upon the Sith Temple, upon the Sith Emperor. Darth Insipid was growing in power exponentially, but he would need more power, if he were to match-Nay!, defeat, Abeloth-Mnggal. He would need to surpass the powers of a Dark Celestial himself.

This ritual was familiar to the Stygian Executor, as were the potential consequences. Still, if there was a right time and a right place for such a thing, this was it.

Lord Manticore took no thought of his battered physical body. His physical vessel was not immediately in need. Slowly, his fiery gaze closed, black eyelids coming down like metallic blast doors over a blistering furnace. The zabrak went inwards, opening himself to the lines of power from the temple.

Everything around him was engulfed in pitch darkness, except for the crimson beam that shot skyward, as far as he could see, which was the only source of illumination. All he had to do was walk towards it and merge his will to it. It was simple, save for the one obstacle that stood between him and the crimson light.

Lord Anguish.

The nagai darksider stood, unmoving, garbed in his sumptuous black robes. His hood covered his head, obscuring him, until he looked up. His sickly pale face and jaundice eyes looked to his former apprentice as a sly smile slowly appeared. Manticore hated that expression, which caused his lips to curl reflexively with a snarl.

“You have finally gathered great power! Your HATE and your ANGER have no equal. Few can rival you now…Battle Lord. And now, you will simply give that power away? How disappointing. How weak! Have I taught you nothing!!?”

Manticore growled aloud as he took a step forward. His hands curled into fists as waves of hate billowed within his chest, causing his ribcage to pulse with a red glow.

“Get.Out.Of.My.Way…”

“He taunted you, you know. Made a fool of you, or have you forgotten? He put a saber to your face. YOUR FACE! Made you look weak in front of others. Saddled you with an apprentice destined only for failure, then tied your hands, preventing you from liberating yourself from that burden. He laughed about it, made merry with others at your expense. Oh, and now he needs your power? You owe him nothing! NOTHING!!”

Manticore’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Tongues of fire began to appear all around him, his breathing becoming heavier, tension building. He flared his nose and exhaled flames.

“He promised you the holocron, didn’t he? Show it to me then. Where is it? Oh!…you mean, you don’t have it?”

Lord Anguish said mockingly, then laughed.

“I killed you. My hate is mine to do as I wish. You no longer control me. This is my time. My Sith Empire. Should I become a footnote, you’ll be far less than that. You exist now because I allow it.”

At these words, Manticore’s horns grew three times their size, even as he gained mass. The tongues of fire that surrounded him transformed into an enshrouding nimbus.

Nwûl tash.
Dzwol shâsotkun.
Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk.
Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan.
Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha.
Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak.
Wonoksh Qyâsik nun.

Now. Begone.

The Stygian Executor waved a hand with a languid motion.

A brilliant flash of energy detonated before the form of his dead master, who raised up his arms to shield his eyes in reflex. Several force shields that were already in place were shattered with contemptuous ease, cast aside with the sound of rolling thunder. The nagai’s robes caught fire, then his flesh and bones were incinerated, as if consumed by a titanic blast furnace. If the Lord of Anguish screamed, the sound was sure to fall on deaf ears.

The nagai understood nothing. How could he? He was never a Sith. He would forever covet that which was achieved without him.

An Emperor had a duty to his Empire, for he was nothing without it. A High Lord had a duty to both, for the same reasons. When the realm was threatened, there was no place for personal ambition, unless such could achieve victory on all fronts.

The Stygian Executor walked forward, his Mythic tattoo now prominently displayed upon his naked chest. Darth Manticore, unimpeded by any obstacle, stepped into the crimson portal of power of his own volition. He did not empty himself, no- he JOINED his power to the Emperor as he disappeared in a flash.

Still sitting inside Re’van’s craft, Manticore’s eyes suddenly opened, but this time, his eyes were not their customary yellow. This time, true power coursed within him. Should anyone notice, the High Lord’s eyes now blazed a fierce vermillion red!


Tag: @Sinrebirth, @HunterPrime, @Darth Master Titus

 

IC: Darth Ravenous, Wuulfwarg (in Flashback)
Falling...

Let's go home......

In his weakened state, the statement dug through Ravenous' mind like a worm. What did it even mean? Home. Darth Hel's comlink lit up with the Emperor's voice, he needed them to focus their powers and break their chains! He faded into an unadulterated memory he had kept repressed until Abeloth had brought it forth...

*Flashback* (Wuulfwarg),(Nubia)
Unknown Planet surface (Wild Space).... Crashed Freighter

His vision wavered in and out of focus as he came to. He saw fire... A lot of fire. His focus shifted to his leg. There was blood.... A lot of blood... His eyes moved, he was still in shock from the crash. He panicked as he saw his Master, Nubia. He was mangled badly, but alive. The Jedi was lying under some debris from their freighter.

Wuulfwarg gritted as he instinctively began to crawl towards him. He tried, but was stopped. His leg was pinned under the loading door of the freighter. Using the force, he lifted the door momentarily to free himself, he then took his belt and fashioned a tourniquet to wrap around. As he tied it tight he let out a Roar of pain. The leg was pretty much useless but it was attached. He clawed his way through the dust and debris of this barren planet until he reached his Master, who was unconscious. The Wookiee began to shake his Master until he woke up.

"Wuulfwarg! What happened?!" Nubia said desperately... Mortified as he clung to the Wookiee; His grip was taut.

"We were shot down... Pirates... They moved on, not even they wanted to be here." The Wookiee growled jokingly, trying to alleviate what hopelessness predicament they were in.

"How long have we been out?" Nubia inquired. "I don't know...Hours...Days?" Wuulfwarg replied. It was hard to tell, this planet had no sun. The fires around, kept them warm and lighted enough to not freeze to death and at least see somewhat.

"Master, I may be injured but let me scrounge around for anything that may be useful.. Maybe the Medkit is in tact. You need medical attention."

Nubia looked down at the state of his body and scoffed. "A Jedi Master, so powerful... So many dangerous missions... And I go out like this..." He laughed and coughed up some blood, the internal injuries severe.

"You aren't going to die Master! The ship had to have some sort of distress beacon right?"

Nubia laughed again....

"Out here.. in Wild Space... No, Wuulfwarg... There is nobody from the Temple coming... the best we can do is survive long enough for someone passing by to pick up the beacon.."

The Wookiee began to crawl around looking for anything useful, the pain in his leg began to numb at his determination. He found miniscule things, a back pack full of portions, but no water to activate them, his Lightsaber intact, a hold-out blaster, the Medkit bag, but the crash had burned and destroyed all the Bacta and supplies. He began to make his way back over to the fallen Jedi Master.

"Here, Master. You're hungry? Eat these portions, but there's no water..." he laughed again at their hopelessness. "It may not be much but there's still calories in these portions, I'm not hungry Master, eat these.." the Wookiee put the packages up to his Master's face.

Nubia swatted the packages away, "Wuulfwarg, listen to me... I'm not going to make it... If you make it out of here... You must tell them what happened... Also, Wookiee... There's a hardbox within my chambers, it's combination is 24554... it contains a datapad with information on your family, they are... Alive..."

"W...What? You told me they were dead.." Wuulfwarg began to fill up with emotion, sad at the revelation that his Master had lied to him after all they had been through. Tears began to run from his eyes. "That's not fair! You can't just give up! You need to be there to help me! Guide me!"

"I have already guided you Wuulfwarg... You are not a Padawan anymore. You will become stronger than even I."

"So you just give up!? You can't... Because I need you... Because I love you!" The Wookiee exclaimed, emotions running wild as the space that was now their prison.

"Love?... What is love without Emotion?... It is not the Jedi way." Nubia begrudgingly stated and coughed up more blood.

Wuulfwarg was shocked by the statement...Repulsed by the statement... His emotions flaring to an explosion of feelings... Hate, greed, anger rolled into one.

After a long pause contemplating on the statement the Wookiee questioned Nubia, "So you feel nothing then?" he sniffled and wiped his nose and continued. His emotions expressed outward now, "even in your frail state you're going to deny me happiness?"

Wuulfwarg in a fit of rage crawled upon the Jedi and grasped him by the throat. He struggled, trying to slap the furry hands off his throat but it was no use, the Wookiee's hands clenched harder, augmented by the Dark Side. It felt good to him, much like a drug. "How dare he deny me of happiness in his final hours!" he thought to himself, greed consuming his soul.

The Jedi Master continued to struggle beneath the Wookiee's frame, he tried to use a Mind Power against Wuulfwarg but before it took hold, he grasped onto his lightsaber and pressed it to his Masters chin...

The Wookiee gritted angrily before he said, "I loved you....."

*Snap-hiss*

The body went limp under Wuulfwarg's. The Anger, Hate and Greed were immediately filled with horror and regret as he fell backwards against ship debris looking the body of his Master in the lifeless eyes... He would now have to die here slowly. Looking at the greatest mistake of his life.

Wuulfwarg sat in horror for two days, staring blankly before the hunger began to set in. The lifeless shell of a Jedi staring back at him, tempting him. He had become.. So hungry.. So he did the unthinkable. He crawled over to the Jedi's body and looked him in the eyes again....

"If you will not sustain me in life... You will in death." He began to feast upon the decaying corpse.

As the Force worked, a Mining vessel responded to their distress beacon not hours after the 'incident' and the rest is history...

The closest memory he had, faded as Ravenous came to inside the shuttle bay. He had never had a home after what happened on that barren planet. Even with his time with the Hutts, the closest thing to a home was his Hunting ship, "The Raven". Now after fighting along side these Dark Siders for the good measure of a day he looked around at this damaged temple, he could already say this is more of a home than what the Jedi offered him; Silently judging one if they didn't form seamlessly into their ranks. He gained a bit of his life back as he came to the realization. He channeled these feelings towards an Emperor he's never met feeling him through the force and repaid his belonging with the closest thing a Sith has to unconditional love...His memories.

'Through Victory my chains are broken!'

Right here, Right now.... This was home, and he would defend it with his life.
Tag:Sinrebirth, The Sith Empire?

 

IC: Darth Cocytus

Darth Cocytus listened to Darth Invidious make his announcement to the Empire as he turned off his crimson blades, hooking them to his blade. The young sith apprentice was quite satisfied with his massacre, but he did wish for more for he hated the lot of them with a hatred as cold as the lake of his namesake. Cocytus wished to kill these pathetic weaklings over and over again, much like the fabled Darth Plagueis in the past. Just the thought of having kind of power over life and death made Cocytus make a nasty grin, for he, as a Sith Sorcerer, shall have that power soon in the future.

He silently made a smirk as he sat in chair beside his comrade, somewhat sadistically amused by the discomfort of the reptilian creature. The kaminoan then crained his head and long neck to the com, hearing the emperor's demands. His eyes turned to slits, his icy hatred freezing within him. Yes. He shall do as demanded of his Lord. Cocytus will not all an Empire he so recently joined for power, knowledge, and glory be wiped into nothingness along with himself, especially by the likes of the target of his hatred: all enemies of the Sith Empire. "Come, Darth Invidious." he spoke coldly and harsh, "We have a galaxy to save from our cursed enemy."

Darth Cocytus closed his big orange colored eyes, bowed his head and folded his hands as he entered meditation. The kaminoan opened himself up to the powerlines of the Sith Temple, giving up his power and exporting to the one he swore to serve. Groaning somewhat as he felt his power drain from him, he began to ignore the discomfort, focusing on burning anger and his cold hate for all those who opposed him, his Order and his Empire, speaking the words of the creed of his life:

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
hrough strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me!"

As Darth Cocytus spoke these words, he was far too focused on his hatred and anger giving his power to his emperor, too notice several others entering the bridge...

Tag: Sinreborn, Darth_Elu and anyone else important.

 

IC: Kwea Acantha
Great Temple

Arach's apprentice came and helped Kwea sit Haretisch up a bit and the male Sith who had come from the shadows used some dark side healing on him as well. As the Night Herald awoke, everyone's comms buzzed. The Emperor's voice filled it once more, amplified by the amount of comms.

He gave them a long speech with instructions. They were to recite the Sith code and use it to pull powe from themselvesr and give it to him by way of the Sith temple. They were to break their own chains.

First, she reached out with the force and felt every little stone, nook, and cranny of the temple and examined it with the Force. Then Kwea started at the beginning of the code.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Her passionate love for Kaz, the young Sith who had turned her and her passion for the work of the Sith. She sunk into those memories of her anger at the Jedi and her anger towards her family.

Through passion, I gain strength.
The power she had felt when she gave into her anger and passion in fighting Luminara.

Through strength, I gain power.
She had wounded her master and had gone on to learn far greater powers as a Sith then she would have as a Jedi.

Through power, I gain victory.
She had crushed a fellow apprentice, had destroyed an ancient spirit, and had fought a fabled Carbonite Disciple because of her power taken from her passions.

Through victory, my chains are broken.
She had gained so much from her victories. She had lost some of the fear of acceptance and failure that the Jedi had given her.

The Force shall free me!
She wasn't completely free but some of her biggest chains where broken.

Kwea found Insipid's presence and in a big wave sent all her power from passion, fear, anger, and memories.

TAG Sinrebirth

 

Darth Invidius IC:
~Command Bridge, Chimaera~

Ignoring the new arrivals of the Imperial crew, Invidius just remained where he was for the time being. Now that the capital ship had been handed over, he felt the tedium settling inexplicably in again.

However, there were other things he could focus on at least. That odd sensation through the Force after all, the 'darkening' of it. The ssi-ruu had been almost too busy to notice and even when he did, too busy to spend time wondering about it. Now he did.

Looking out a viewport from where he uncomfortably sat, arms folded, he watched the gigantic vessel whose name he heard in whispers from the new crew. Wrath of Vader. An intriguing name and one he approved of. Too bad it seemed like a goner. Watching it from afar, he couldn't make out much due to distance though he got enough of an idea amidst the attack his ship…the Empire's ship…was now delivering against it.

Also, that sensation in the Force was emanating the strongest from that location. It was someone. Something. That much he could make out and it was prodding him into inquisitive circles in his mind. The feeling of it in the Force, and the very power it exuded, was frightening. Bewildering. Foreboding. Evil.

…Thrilling. What or who was it exactly? He wanted to know. No, needed to know. Hopefully Lord Manticore could fill him in at some point after this was all done. His eyes glanced over to see Cocytus come over and sit next to him due to familiarity or some such. Didn't matter. Invidius saw the smirk on his face, made him want to smack the fellow young Sith across the face. But he withheld because at this point in time it was clear he was stronger in the Dark Side, though not for long the redscale vowed.

That was when the com came from, of all people, Emperor Insipid.

"Sith. Today we have defeated the best that the Pantheon would throw at us. A treacherous siege; (That I wasn't much a part of, mused Invidius sullenly) an immortal army of the dead; (That's interesting…) a deranged Admiral; a creature of ichor and death; (Eh, those two sound unappealing. Boring.) a Dark Celestial determined to have her way with us and end our dominance of the stars. (A Dark Celestial? What is that? ….it must be that sensation. Invidius' scent-tongues flicked in anticipation at the information) But still there remains the Wrath of Vader, a super weapon which could yet end us. In point of fact it will very shortly do just that. End us. The Empire will flash out of existence and that will be that. You will all die. You will all fail. You will all be nothing but another footnote in seven millennia of Sith. Worse, you will have doomed the Galaxy to the insane rule of the proxies of the Left Handed Lord, in what short time would remain before his return and the universe's complete obliteration."

Here the ruler of the Sith paused and Invidius had to admit that he had no idea who or what the Left Handed Lord was. Ignorance, too much of it. It was knowledge he would have to acquire immediately. And on that point….he could not end here.

"The Temples of the Sith are designed to funnel power into their peaks, energy to be woven into fuel for our great experiments and designs, to amplify it and give it birth anew in a cycle of rising apoptosis that can bend nature's rules. I would impeach you to give power unto me, to use the structure of the Temple to create a bridge between myself and you all, to weave our Empire into the power I will need to end this; once and for all. Come to me! Focus! The Sith Code will provide; recite it with me! Believe in it! Break your chains and bring this galaxy to heel beneath our collective might!"

His eyes narrowed. For one thing, he had no idea what this code was. But at least the Emperor started saying it aloud which resolved that issue.

"Come, Darth Invidius. We have a galaxy to save from our cursed enemy."

The redscale ssi-ruu glanced at Cocytus then and sniffed. "Right."

As the kaminoan began reciting the code himself, Invidius promptly stood up and left the bridge altogether. Insipid's voice rang out throughout the ship, so it wasn't like he wasn't listening. It was just…immediately, he felt like this was a personal thing. And he himself had another instant conundrum.

Give? He wants me to give my power?

This was something he was sure he could naturally feel out how to do as he listened and memorized the Sith Code being spoken. But…his power was his. Period. Invidius can gain power, but never shall he give it. That went against all he was.

His head looked up at the ceiling of the Star Destroyer's corridor that he and Cocytus had made a mess of previously. A low growl emitted from his throat. If he didn't give, he wouldn't live. The situation was that obvious. As enticing as the dark sensation was, this Celestial thing, it was an obvious enemy. And apparently powerful enough for the Emperor to request additional strength from everyone through the Force.

"Fine! I will consider this an investment…"

Now, how did it go again? Oh. Right.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

The jungles of Lwhekk sprang to mind immediately. Trees whipping across his face as he sprinted across its majestic lengths, blades in hand. The Force shivering in excitement and as soon as the first clearing appeared; his thrown vibroblade cutting down his prey. His immediate leap to land on their now incapacitated self, plunging down with the other weapon with immense relish. "Pathetic human, thought we'd let you go?"

Through passion, I gain strength.

Coruscant. Blaster fire barely singeing his scales, dealing little damage at all to his body, and his tail whipping across in response. It struck the soldier on the side of the head with a sickening crunch and he flew. A blade swung down then in front of him and his attention shifted to the threat, backing up and barely evading the strike. His right hand clamped down on the yevethan warrior's hand and with a quick twist: Snap.

Blade fell out of his grasp and into Hrikcanng's instead. Where it then found itself buried in the face of its original owner thereafter. That was when he turned to see two Imperial Guards rushing him. Palm out and the Force went to work…

Through strength, I gain power.

Small fires burned mockingly around, bodies were scattered across the Coruscanti district, and he sat. His eyes were ablaze with a ferocity that had been stirring within him. More.

A figure came suddenly in front of him, causing him to look up with mixed curiosity and apprehension. The Force coiled around him and his body tensed to strike. But instead he found a mirror. Two zabrak eyes, blazing and fiery with power. He also saw a promise unspoken in that instant.

Hrikcanng grinned.

Through power, I gain victory.

Darth Invidius paced in the back of the shuttle, hungering for some action and not comfortable with the seats. They were headed for some other world, a Moraband or something other. He slowed when he received a warning glance from his new master. Manticore. He supposed he should calm a bit, he had time. After all, he now was on the precipice of the teachings of the Dark Side. His eyes briefly glanced at the lightsabers on the kaminoan's person nearby. Soon. I will have one of my own soon.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

His eyes snapped open, not aware that he had closed them in meditative thought in his ruminations of the Code aboard the Chimaera. Though even then, his senses back to his present situation, he could well imagine the flowing translucent energy flowing from his person like some twisted river. It ebbed, flowed, and swirled into a vortex as it went toward the focal point he had sensed on the planet. That focus being Emperor Insipid. Use it well, my power isn't compatible with defeat.

The Force shall free me!

And there! The crescendo! The power was rising with the Emperor! But the ssi-ruu, in contrast, was slumped down onto the ground for a brief moment on one knee. Had…had he truly given so much of himself? Preposterous. Another low growl…The Force shall free me.

Invidius stood up again, pretending not to have fallen at all, if still a bit wobbly. It was best he returned to the scene of his created carnage. The destruction and death he had caused in the vessel would help steel the darkness within and help him build his own strength up once more. As he walked the corridor, his head lifted up and turned toward the direction of the Wrath of Vader that he could no longer see. Who knew if his message would be heard, let alone heeded at all, but he had one to send.

Thing. Celestial, whatever you are. I can feel you out there, despite how busy we both seem to be. Whatever may come, know this….

His eyes narrowed in predatorial fashion.

At some point after all this. I will find you. I will hunt you. And when I do, I have some questions for you.

His hope was that this otherworldly being would be defeated and repulsed, but not killed. The Sith Empire had no true knowledge of Invidius nor did the being that he did not yet know was named Abeloth. But, had they known then, perhaps they would have realized how potentially bad it was the day he came into Force-contact with the Dark Celestial. The Mother, too, may not yet realize the predator she had unwittingly awakened.

Greed. True avarice unmatched. Unadulterated, potent, and savage. Unending.

And it was hungry.


Tag: The Force and all who feel its embrace!

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Shuttle Bay...

Ravenous began to pour everything into the Emperor. His own survival depended on it.... Or did it? Doubt began to fill the Wookiee's end of the Force Meld. He also felt something stir within his stomach, almost as if he was missing something he once had. He pushed harder to reignite the meld but he fainted and was drawn into a different vision...

As his eyesight came back into focus he had left the shuttle bay. He now resided in a ominous field of grain, everything seemed grayed. It was an open environment but the air was stifling yet cold. Far across from him stood his Sith Master, Darth Hades. He stood with arms crossed and a morose look on his face as a light breeze undulated the field.

"Master, what is happening?"

Hades did not respond, he continued to stare, ever brooding. Ravenous began to jog toward his Master as the grain plants wisped at his legs. As he got close Hades demeanor changed into one of concern..

"DON'T!" The Master's gasping command echoed throughout the oppressive landscape. A concussive blast radiated from behind the Sith and Ravenous was thrown back. He tumbled through the grain residing on his stomach, face in the dirt. The breeze had died. As he brought his head up again he could see tentacles pouring through the blackness behind Hades. They gripped his head and pulled it back into a submissive position. They began to envelope him and the grain nearest to them wilted as the mass of tentacles increased. To his horror, the creature he had narrowly escaped stepped forth through the darkness and held his Master in a loving embrace from behind, eyes blacker than night and her wicked smile cutting through the backdrop.

Abeloth....

She drew her head to the side of Hades' and insultingly addressed Ravenous with a chorus of voices, some hissing, others screaming.

"Mine..."

Ravenous covered his ears at the earsplitting volume of this statement, he buried his face within the dirt around him.

"Look at me!!" A tentacle shot out, grasped Ravenous' head and brought it up, not intending to hurt or subdue him. Rather, make him look at what she was doing to Hades. From his prone position the Wookiee looked in disgust at what was happening in front of him. He could see his Master engulfed by her tentacles, one down his throat, the others stretching out his appendages. He began to convulse as he blackened like the grain field around him, which continued to wilt away; turning to dust and falling to the ground. Abeloth began to drag the Sith back into the Darkness of which she came. As his Master was dragged into oblivion he could feel his Master's connection to the force fade and another concussive blast sent Ravenous flying, this time into the Blackened sky ending his vision.

He awoke on the floor of the shuttle bay gasping to what he had just witnessed. Anger and Hate filled his heart with the demise of his Master. Hades had barely taught him the ways of the Dark Side before the creature known as Abeloth ripped him from the Wookiee's life. He fought viscerally next to him, he had found belonging here within the Sith, like his Master. He would get his revenge. Not now... Now he needed to concentrate and re-immerse himself in the Meld. But had his vision already done its' damage?
Sinrebirth, E. L.Knight, everyone.

 

Darth Titus
Aboard the Ferel

Everything had been a blur since Titus escaped the ooze creature Mnngal-Mnngal. Struggling to remember exactly what he had saw, all he could recall was the scene he was exposed to being pretty grim. He faintly remembers Emperor Insipid telling him, or them rather, to Run Now.

High Lord Manticore had shouted something to him and Re'van. Something about a ship..that too, was just a blur. The next thing he remembered was being aboard another ship, which wasn't too much of a memory as he was now realizing it was just happening now. What was wrong with him? Titus was positive he still held onto his sanity. This though, had to have been his physical exhaustion wearing on his mental being. Some rest should do the trick. But there was no such time for rest, as they still had not defeated the one called Abeloth.

Manticore and Re'van were speaking. Something about grenades and slicers. Titus must've looked bad for he had not said a word since regrouping with the two. Maybe they thought he didn't care. Who knows..maybe he didn't. Enough! Negative thoughts rushed his mind, but he did not let it take over his conscientiousness. In truth, Titus hardly cared what anyone thought of him. But he had given so much to the two Emperor's he had served, and is now serving, and to the Sith Order. He had sustained so many injuries and battle scars, he simply could not not care.

Just as Titus motioned to speak and let his comrades know he was aware of the current situation, the intercom on Re'van's ship blared aloud. It was the Emperor who would speak. Titus could tell that Insipid was desperate. The Emperor had implored the other Sith to give their powers to him, to aid him all at once.

Nearby in the Ferel, Titus could feel Manticore struggling internally at the Emperor's request. He had an ongoing battle of wills he was battling, but Titus had his own to face. The Emperor had called on everyone, he needed their help. Titus felt vulnerable. He had amassed great power over the past few years as a Sith marauder. He had all the power he could need or want. He had no aspirations to be an Emperor, or hold any position as a triumvir. While some may see that as being ambitionless, Titus viewed it as the honest truth. Having to rule a galaxy was much to stressful and time consuming. And seeing how he isn't immortal or near immortal like Insipid, time would be a problem for Titus.

Who knew what would happen once giving their powers to the Emperor. Would that power be gone forever? Would that power be severely diminished once returned? For all he knew he might be overthinking this request. They might not lose any power, but just share the power with the Emperor and each other to power the Temples of the Sith.

The young Sith Lord finalized that he had a duty to the Sith Order in which he sworn an oath to. Ultimately, his loyalty remained to himself, firstly. But his word is his word, which Titus makes sure to never break. Being a man, or woman of your word was a great form of honor. And since giving his power to Insipid meant saving their hides, the decision was clear. Oblige or die. Quite literally.

Eyelids turned to stone, shutting like a clamp. Murky skies of thoughts became clear skies as Titus focused on the Temples of the Sith, Insipid, and the Sith code. As he recited the code, crimson embers sparked in his mind. Visions of the dark side cast a beautiful image in his head. He could not see the future, no, these are not what the visions were. The crimson visions were hope, hope that by combining strength, the Sith could defeat the vile Abeloth. The embodiment of the dark side herself, or itself.

Nwûl tash.
Dzwol shâsotkun.
Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk.
Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan.
Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha.
Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak.
Wonoksh Qyâsik nun.

Titus recited the code as he lent a hand through the Force to the Emperor in need.

TAGS: Sinrebirth, HunterPrime, greyjedi125

 

IC: Re'van
Aboard the Ferel

Re'van's mind was ablur, as the Ferel shot out and over, heading away from the confusion, even as the ship
that they had just left, began to be covored with the black ooze. Re'van frowned, looking about to see the
course of the battle. Many pods seemed to be heading back towards the planet, she noted that three Jedi
cruisers were firing upon the Wraith. Jedi? When had they joined the battle? Re'van steared clear of them,
even as she made sure her ship had suffered no ill effects from the docking, while changing the security
settings. She detested unwanted guests, but the Emperor had a need. So be it. Re'van spared a glance at Lord
Manticore and Lord Titus. Manticore, being himself was seated, while Titus seemed to be out of sorts. He had
not spoken a single word, since he had joined them. Then again, considering the encounter with Abeloth, that
would not be surprising. Re'van checked her internal sensors, looking upon the 'guests' that the Emperior
deemed necessary to place upon her ship. Some unconscious woman, and a few guards. She had the sensors keep
check upon her guests, in case they were not as they seemed. Right now, she had other issues that needed her
attentions, as she deftly flew the Ferel around all the floating jetsum, making sure her ship was staying
cloaked for the moment. She noted also that the Golan defense forces, and a few more ships also began to draw
fire upon the Wraith as well, but the huge ship was still moving. Suddenly, a new signal drew her attentions.
A beacon, calling to her. It seemed to be coming from the hanger. The hanger? She was surprised that it was
still operational.

The Force, and a part of that, the Darkside, still swirled about, but it felt different. Darker. Tainted by
Chaos. Tainted by HER. Re'van's mind recalled the mindscape that she had been in with the creature Abeloth.
How it had tried to consume her. Re'van face a grew dark. Is that what changed the Jedi into the being known
as Darth Ruin? She was drawn to the family. She NEEDED a family. Was the Father still aware? Then, there was
the portal. A portal that needed to stay locked. But as Re'van guided the ship back down towards the planet,
her comlink suddenly blared to life, with the voice of the Emprior.

//'Sith. Today we have defeated the best that the Pantheon would throw at us. A treacherous siege; an
immortal army of the dead; a deranged Admiral; a creature of ichor and death; a Dark Celestial determined to
have her way with us and end our dominance of the stars. But still there remains the Wrath of Vader, a
superweapon which could yet end us.'

'In point of fact it will very shortly do just that. End us. The Empire will flash out of existence and that
will be that. You will all die. You will all fail. You will all be nothing but another footnote in seven
millennia of Sith. Worse, you will have doomed the Galaxy to the insane rule of the proxies of the Left
Handed Lord, in what short time would remain before his return and the universes complete obliteration.//

WE will have doomed the Galaxy!?!?!?! Re'van's anger exploded. What gall! Is there no self destruct code? she
mentally growled. She sputtered, but stayed silent, listening to the rest of the message, after a lengthy
pause.

//'The Temples of the Sith are designed to funnel power into their peaks, energy to be woven into fuel for
our great experiments and designs, to amplify it and give it birth anew in a cycle of rising apoptosis that
can bend natures rules. I would impeach you to give power unto me, to use the structure of the Temple to
create a bridge between myself and you all, to weave our Empire into the power I will need to end this; once
and for all. Come to me!'// Another lengthy pause. //'Focus!// he called out as he began to recite the Sith
Code, asking everyone to join in. Re'van listened to the words, even as she heard them in the ancient tounge.

//
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me!
//

No.

Re'van's face was stonic. as she once more checked her monitors. She could already feel the powerful titanic
surge from Lord Manticore, as he sat, still and motionless. Lord Titus, who still had not spoken, seemed to be joining in as well. Re'van snorted softly. She had other duties to perform. She was still out in space, in the middle of a battlefield, with an important bit of 'cargo' left to her. She certainly was not about to stop what she was doing, and endanger their lives. No, she had a responsibilty to perform first. She needed to get her passengers down to the planet. Besides, she knew what many did not.

She was Re'van.

And as she had stated to Abeloth earlier, she was owned by no one or nothing.

Not by her past.
Not by her future.
and certainly, not by the Sith.

She recalled her earlier discussion with Darth Ruin. That Sole obsession, was a fools curse. That sole
obsession was a delusion, which one of clarity of thought would die under. It was knowledge, that drove her
convictions." Re'van smiled at the memory. Her WILL, was her purpose. Of course, she fought for the Sith.
For the Darkside. For the Force. But she knew of the flaws. Of slights within the Order, imagined or not. But
still, she grew, in both power and strength, in spite of it. Or perhaps, because of it. Like metal, tempered
in fire. Her power was her own, not of that granted to her by objects and things. She had knowledge that
others had seemed to have forgotten. Of the temple. Of the Sith themselves. Thought bombs surged to mind. And
with the knowledge combined with that of the Sorceress, and even the Emperor, a bit more now. What had the
need of 'her power', when Bellorium had drawn far more, from the artifacts of Golg? And she was not the only
one. In fact, there were much more powerful artifacts there in the temple, that could be used to help assist
in the drawing of power that he was calling for. If her other amulet had made its way to the Emperior, then
he would find both healing and power there as well. And what if this one last plan failed? Or worse, didnt
fail. That the power transfer worked. He was attacking her, as one powerhouse to what? A Celestial? Perhaps
more, now that she had joined with that ooze. She was a being who seemed to ingest energy. If they aimed at
the ship, they might destroy it. But it would not destroy her. They would still need to deal with her. And
thought Re'van might join her power to another, she would never willingly GIVE it away, trusting that the one
she gave it to, knew what to do with it. So far, she had seen nothing to prove that fact true.

No, There were other targets to consider as well. The portal. That, and the small hold to Abeloth's
mindscape. Abeloth would expect, no, even perhaps looking forward to an all out direct attack. It is
afterall, what the Sith seemed to do. But with her attentions draw elsewhere, perhaps she would not notice a
much more subtle attack against her. Where the other Celestials even aware? It did not matter, in truth. They
would either act, or would not. It was their nature. Re'van simply hoped that if they did decided to step in,
it would be on the side of restraining total Chaos being unleashed against the Universe. Or else the Sith
would be even less than a footnote. There is no history, if there is no one left to write it.

Re'van drew herself tightly within the Force, extinguishing her Force signature as best she could, as she
quickly directed the Ferel to land where instructed. She opened up her comlink, speaking to the beings
guarding their 'guest'. //"We are about to land in the hanger. I shall use the ships weaponry to cover you if
necessary. You have two minutes to clear my ship if the hanger is clear."// Re'van promptly clicked off the
comlink. She then removed the second amulet she was wearing. The amulet of Kalara. She would use it as a
focal point, once the ship had safely landed, and her cargo was off her ship. Her sabers were drawn, but unlit.

For now.


TAG: Sinrebirth, greyjedi125, Darth Master Titus