Carida

[Kyrie Eleison]

The young Jedi General looked down her armoured arm to the attached datapad, where a message popped up from the Empress, detailing the ongoing investigation of a captured Sith. She slowly rose from where she sat on her bunk, and dropped the inactive holocron onto the tightly fitted sheets, made from black microfibers. The silver form of the crystal-work lattice reflected a pattern onto the wall beside her, taking the light of the fluorescent glowlamps, and twisting it into a rainbow of shifting light.

 

The pattern was a repeating line of symbols, similar in form to the Aurebesh she still had difficulty reading. She stood and let the symbols reflect onto the chestpiece of her armour, reaching out with the Force to trace them in silvered flame. She tried to feel the songs of the holocron, but there was no answer to her own voice. She let out a small sigh, and slipped out of her chambers, strapping an E-11 to her leg and letting the cloak fall from her shoulders. The moment she was outside of the comfort of her room, the voice of Il-Andon loomed large in her mind

 

...It’s often best for an enemy to underestimate you, it was a tactic of our Order to walk unseen amongst the ranks of our troops, only breaking form when the Mandalorians finally were in the thick of battle…

 

The Exorcist passed out her voice in the Force, letting it fall into the minds of her apprentices.

 

“Aidan, Kala, I have been called to the Seraphim in orbit above the planet, in order to assist in the interrogation of a captured Sith. When you are ready, report to training platform Alpha-96, and to IC-426, also known as Draven Barker. He’ll set up your training run.”

 

With a squad of stormtroopers at her back, Kyrie marched into the orbital shuttle, which brought them swiftly to the docking bay of the Golan III platform known as Seraphim. As she stepped onto the decking, and breathed her first breath of recycled air, Kyrie was connected to the mainframe of the platform by Imperial command. She led her squad to the prison-array, a section deep within the platform, and assembled them around the hallways. They joined the existing defensive force, taking up defensive postions on either side of the hallway. To each of them, Kyrie connected with a tendril of silver fire, like the web of an Arachnid. They added to her consciousness, and she could feel their simple emotions. Any extraneous thoughts or spikes in emotion were consumed by her fire, to keep them all calm and driven towards their objective.

 

She connected her comlink to the Imperial Interrogator, staying just outside of the bubble of the Ysalamiri. She slipped the helmet of a Stormtrooper over her braided head, letting her eyes adjust to the HUD. She slipped her consciousness into the song, and tamped down her own aura, letting herself be filled with her righteous fire. For now, the only difference that distinguished her from her troopers was the dark green patterns, and the Kama and pauldron she wore, that made her appearance similar to that of an ARC trooper from the Clone Wars.

 

“She has remained silent… Ask her about the Jedi Tzem Itae, which was detailed in the Bounty Hunter’s report. We must find out if this story of their battle holds water.”

[Raven Nasra]

Raven clasped her hands in front of her and bowed to the jedi knights as they made their departure. “Thank you Vos, you will hear from me before you know it. I appreciate any support you can give.” As they exited she took the moment to lean against the desk and breathed out a full sigh. She rubbed her robotic hand across her brow and looked at her dim reflection in the holodisplay. No wrinkles yet. She ran her fingers through a tangle that had formed in her ponytail haircut and retied it up into a high military fashion. Not a black hair out of place. She straightened her desk and shooed her guards out of the room, the meeting with the grandmaster would be a private one, with no wandering eyes or ears. She pulled out a brick like device and enabled it, effectively overwhelming any bugs that might be listening. SHe stood back up and waited for the Jedi Grandmaster. When he did walk through the door, she let a real grin show through her stern expression.

 

“Grandmaster Kirlocca , I am so pleased to see you again, as you have seen from your flight in, we are in dire straights against the Sith” She resisted the urge to give him a hug for the moment, and let her demeanor change from a head of state to a young woman, all smiles.

 

_______________

 

In geosynchronous orbit over the capital of Carida the Golan III Seraphim sat silently, its grey paint softly reflecting the light of the stars. Inside, Ubiqtorate officer Deckard Almani frowned at the girl in the bacta tank. His first instinct was to cut the oxygen supply or fill the bacta with electricity to force a confession, but his orders were very clear. Torture was not to be used. THough those failsafes were set up in case of a breakout. Looking at normal non sleeping vitals, he leaned into the mic again,

 

“You will not be harmed or tortured here, we are not the Sith Empire, if anything you are more safe here than among whoever last had you.” He held a gloved hand up to his ear and leaned towards the mic again. “Tell us at least of your battle with Tzem Itae. We wish to know the truth. That is all.”

[Kitaara Shiri]

Kitaara made no visible acknowledgment of her teacher as he moved to join her, his breathing as even as though he had emerged from a long meditation rather than twirling a comely officer around the floor of a ballroom. Heat stained her blue cheeks a deep violet. She was self-aware enough to realize that the surge of irritation was irrational, nonsensical, and unwarranted; but such a realization only earned additional ire. Burying the thorn in a bath of icy composure, she kept her eyes trained on the ballroom, looking every inch the excited debutante she was meant to portray.

 

"Ah, Designer Vulkas. A thousand Enyo-class for active military trial," she said saccharinely, "and I thought we'd throw in a couple Phobos units since it's such a large order. A victory for Lemnos."

 

A surly undertone crept into her last sentence before Kitaara fell silent for the purpose of intently sipping her champagne. When the song concluded, she finally turned to face him, setting her glass down on one of the high cocktail tables. "Did you enjoy your chat with the token war hero?"

[Kala Ianauria]

Eight hours and three different hostage rescue scenarios gained Kala a better knowledge of the troops in the two squads she’d run to the training grounds with. Of them, she felt sure she wanted Captain Sannis, SFC Morakaran, and Corporal River to be a part of the eighteen troops assigned to her.

 

Something in the Song told her the others might have a future as Storm Commandos or in the squads of other Knights, but not in hers.

 

Once the troopers bedded down in their temporary barracks at the training center, she went directly to the Captain to talk to her about keeping the three of them and searching for others.

 

Unceremoniously opening the door to the Captain’s office, she found the occupant of the office and 1st Sergeant Tuan going over various reports.

 

Both rose in greeting with the Captain offering her a seat and speaking first. Physically exhausted from the day’s training, Kala gratefully accepted.

 

“What can I do for you Knight Ianauria?”

 

“Its about the two squads we worked with today, Captain,”

 

Tuan Ngo spoke up at the point, “Most of us won’t be going with you.”

 

Kala and the Captian looked over at the 1st Sergeant.

 

“I’m not Force Sensitive, but I know difference between troops fighting well together and those that fight as one. Lady Kala, Troopers River, Morakaran and you Captain all worked as one when you barely knew each other. “

 

Captain Sannis and Kala looked over at the 1st Sergeant for a long time before anyone spoke.

 

The 1st Sergeant broke the silence first. “I’ve already spoken to those not going with Lady Kala doing the various exercises we ran together. I also took the opportunity to put together a list of Troopers that’ll work well with you.”

 

He handed two identical lists to Kala and Captain Sannis. Both scanned over the lists. To Kala, they seemed to be a list of names, ranks, and specialties, about half of which she did not know the meaning of.

 

To the Captain, the list meant something else.

 

“1st Sergeant, half of the men and women on this list are confined to quarters with the others in the brig for charges ranging from insubordination to actually striking a superior officer.”

 

“Yessir, that’ s true. But I urge the four of you to visit them and decide for yourself instead of only seeing those reports.”

 

“What do you know?” asked the Captain.

 

“You have a feeling about them, don’t you?” asked Kala, speaking in a voice barely above a whisper.

 

The two of them glanced at her. Kala looked back and raised her voice to a conversational level. “You have a feeling about them, not one from the Force, but because you’re a professional soldier whose learned to see what others cannot.”

 

Kala smiled at the two whose faces betrayed the slightest hint of surprise at her insight.

 

“I’m a Kuati noble, remember? We start training early on how to recognize servants and soldiers of high quality.”

 

Neither of them detected a hint of condensation or conceit within her voice. Instead they heard a young woman making a simple statement. Both approved and when among their own ranks, would speak of their approval.

 

“What do you think Knight Ianauria?” asked the Captain. “Shall we follow the 1st Sergeant’s advice?”

 

The song of the Force crashed to a massive crescendo in her mind at the suggestion.

 

“Yes, Captain.”

 

“1st Sergeant,” said the Captain, “Knight Ianauria, River and Morakaran will be moving to new quarters in the morning.”

 

“Then we will go and see the names on this list.”

 

When morning came, the four of them met at the barracks entrance, left, and moved to claim a barracks that looked to have existed from the time of the Old Republic. Entering, the Captain and the troopers went to the commander’s quarters and the squad bay. Kala stopped at the entrance, hearing an odd note in the Song and wondering why.

 

Since the other three headed in the same direction as the note, Kala followed behind them. While the captain and troopers looked over the rooms, Kala turned to a blank wall.

 

It took the others a short time to realize that Kala had not followed them. They turned to watch her stare absently at a blank wall, then stared harder as her hands began moving in a seemingly random pattern.

 

They stared harder as she walked through the wall.

 

Kala found herself in a small room completely free of dust, lit by a single overhead light panel. On two of the walls she found a dozen recording devices marked with the names of various lessons by a number of different Jedi Masters concerning everything from saber techniques to Force theory. Most meant even less than 1st Sergeant Tuan’s list, but one did stand out. She recognized the name of the Healing Master she’d been studying before leaving the Temple.

 

To her surprise, the devices display lights all indicated full and complete functionality. They looked to have been recently maintained.

 

On the third wall, a single holocron sat inactive. Kala reached out reverently to touch the small pyramidal structure and found it to be slightly humming with constrained power. When her finger was just short of the object, the object’s guardian project above it and spoke.

 

A female Chiss of incredible beauty wearing a Jedi Master’s robes looked directly at her, red eyes reaching directly into her soul.

 

“When you’ve mastered what you see on those two walls, Kala Ianauria, you’ll be ready for what I am guarding. Until then, I’ll answer the questions you have.”

Kala looked at the small figure, then shook her head.

 

“What should I call you?”

 

“Lady Irejyna,. Now, before you take these objects and gather your troopers, there is something about the young man taking care of this place you need to know. ”

 

When she backed out of the room after less than a minute, the Captain and the two Troopers watched the wall completely fade from existence. Kala looked over her shoulder at them and smiled.

She packed the items into the remarkably handy duffel stored below the holocron and turned towards the three.

 

“We need to find some troopers.”

 

After securing their excess gear, the four set off to begin visiting the names of the list. It took nearly three days. There were more names than slots available, and some were refused by Kala or one of the others for various reasons. In the end, she ended up with fifteen additional troopers with ranks from specialist to 1st Sergeant.

 

The last addition came when they returned to the barracks. A young lieutenant stood looking at the small room Kala found earlier. He wore the off duty uniform of the StormTroopers, wore a mirrored visor over his eyes, and carried a small set of tools. He looked utterly bewildered at the now empty room and stared incredulously when eighteen very angry men and women pointed several different types of blasters in his direction.

 

All of whom stood behind a young woman holding an un-ignited double bladed lightsaber.

 

Someone female in her troopers yelled, “What the hell? Why are you here?”

 

The question hung in the air.

 

Kala spoke to both the troopers and the lieutenant. “He’s here to maintain the recording devices and care for the holocron we locked away earlier today.”

 

The young man took an instinctive step backward.

 

“Relax everyone,” said the Captain. “Knight Ianauria, what shall we do with him?”

 

“He’s our last member. Also the first non-human, non-Imperial to be a member of our troop despite those lieutenant’s rank cylinders.”

 

Kala turned to face the young Miraluka. ““Lady Irejyna told me young man. Captain, he’s a pilot and expert in a number of very useful fields. He’s also more than capable of acting as a junior officer.”

 

Every one of the troopers and the young man looked at her.

 

“Well, we need to get moving. There’s training to be accomplished. And according to my Master, that training will have to be done on platform A-96. Well, after we run through a few scenarios here at the training center concerning hostage rescue.

 

Kala felt utter calm about this group despite the ragtag and misfit nature of their group. That calm helped her confidence and let her feel like they were hers and she belonged to them. Over the next two days, they demolished every scenario thrown at them.

 

They also demolished a bar and the company of MP’s sent to take them into custody after their last training session at the 1st’s base. Reporting to a local airbase, they appropriated a series of modified Tie Hunters and Kala’s fighter, now equipped with the necessary gear to maintain her group for short term deployments and still defend itself.

 

Reporting into IC-426, Kala simply announced, “Wild Bunch, reporting. Where do we start IC-426?”

[Emily]

The voice kept speaking. Why wouldn't it just leave Emily alone? Couldn't it see that she had no strength or willpower to bother answering?

 

But after a moment, a tiny trickle of sanity bubbled up through the tormented landscape of her mind. The sooner she answered him, the sooner he'd leave her alone. And maybe she'd be set free. And she could go home. And then, when she was strong enough, go hunting.

 

Her eyes flicked up to the hazy image of the Imperial standing outside the tank. With enormous effort, she summoned the will to speak. "My name is Emily Zsahra-Skywalker," she said, her voice croaking. "What battle? I don't know anyone named Tzem Itae."

 

In her clouded mind, she couldn't remember if he has asked her anything else. But hopefully he'd be done asking his questions soon, though she'd settle for being let out of this tank of stinking goo.

[Wookiee Jedi]

Kirlocca gave Raven a return smile, along with a bow of respect. He could indeed tell that the Remnant was now in a struggle against the Sith, as evidence was written almost everywhere across the planet by now. Even as he walked into the office further, he could sense the Force moving along the planet, both Dark Side, Light Side, and something else... He couldn't place what it was that he felt.

 

<< It is good to see you again. I am sorry that the Jedi have not responded any sooner to the mass chaos that has overcome this planet. I feel that I must take the majority of the blame. Since we last saw each other, I have had... well, for lack of better terms, my hands were full. But I am here now. What help and service can the Jedi be to the Remnant as of right now? >>

 

Kirlocca relaxed himself a bit, allowing for him to take off the Jedi robe that he was wearing, putting it on a couch that the Head of State office held within it. Although, even as he did, he kept his mind somewhat present, as the awkward feeling in the Force was even stronger now. There was something or someone putting off a weird Force signature. He wondered if that was the reason behind all of his weird visions of Jedi Masters who had joined the Force...

[Tobias Vos]

As they were all dismissed from Raven's office, Tobias nodded to the Grandmaster- as he arrived and walked into the Head of State's office. They didn't have a chance to speak, but Vos knew Kirlocca had something on his mind. Patiently, he decided he should remain on the planet. He and Sandy both. Vos hated to stall out the trip to Corusant, but something tickled the back of his neck. The Force was trying to speak to him. Inhaling, he surveyed the room and the hallways- this wasn't a military base, but it was a military world- there had to be a training ground somewheres. He asked the trooper- McNamara? And the trooper escorted Vos and Sandy and gave them a brief tour. As they approached the obvious melee grounds, Vos dropped a note for Kirlocca of where the two had gone to. Tobias wanted to speak with the Grandmaster- touch base. There were some things he needed to... vocalize and question.

 

The three stood there- surveying the melee training going on. Without a word- Vos pulled out the training sabers- their weapons and affects returned to them after the meeting. Vos reached over to Sandy- pressing two hilts perpendicularly against her arm, a questioning look on his face. It was a 'you want to duel?' expression.

 

McNamara watched out of the corner of his eye, but remained stoic. His blood boiled for a moment when he saw Kirlocca, but now that anger was subsiding now that they had time to walk away from that situation. Part of him wanted to duel, Vos could tell, but something about that didn't sit well with him. Would McNamara ask to duel the girl, or vice versa? Tobias was skilled in combat to be sure, and over all he had no desire to test his skills here and now. He was just here to observe. Kind of...

 

(OOC Disclaimer: McNamara is mine, so his actions are condensed into this post.)

[Kyrie Eleison]

IC-426 was a small human man, of Corellian decent, with a personality and personal strength that far surpassed his physical form. His hair was dark, and upon inspection, one could see that his left eye was replaced by a prosthetic, that served a double purpose as an HUD. In his hands he inspected the past simulations that Kala and the so-called Wild Bunch had accomplished. He turned to Kala, his armour glittering dark in the platform lights.

 

“Jedi, I’ve been reviewing your performances in the scenarios, you are progressing admirably. By my calculations you’re beginning to experience the form of Battle Meditation that our General does. Connecting the minds of your men and woman beneath your own is important, but dangerous for a woman who still hasn’t conquered her past.”

 

He brought up a holoscreen that displayed a tottering series of slums, made from sheet-metal and discarded chunks of concrete. It was a maze of varying buildings and hot-fire zones. Some of the hulking structures were up to five stories high. He had his doubts that a Jedi could do so well outside of the holodeck sims. He had served mostly alongside the Sith during Deton's Empire, and had always admired their ability to get the job done, no matter the costs.

 

“This is a mockup of your typical backworlder slum, albeit without the indigenous population to make it smell.”

 

He paused, realizing that perhaps not all would carry his political views

 

“You and the Wild Bunch will be airdropped by cover of night at the western entrance, this dilapidated city gate here,”

 

He indicated it on the map with an emerald laser pointer

 

“You have thirty city blocks of slums to clear out, in order to find your hostage, the Imperial Delegate Tanner Brea, who has been taken captive by the indigs to make a political statement.”

 

The face of a middle aged woman with a regal complexion came onscreen

 

“There are innocents and aggressors here. Do what must be done, remember this though”

 

He passed the datapad to Kala with a grim expression on his face

 

“We do not negotiate with terrorists.”

 

((OOC: This should take you 3ish posts, I’ll play the opposition. Let’s see some great squad tactics and emotions. This should be tough, and will grow your character emotionally.))

[Raven Nasra]

Ah at last she talks. He leaned back into the mic.

 

“The bounty hunter we bought you from indicated there was a battle between you and a Jedi Master named Tzem Itae, you had destroyed him with force lightning. If that battle did not happen, then what did? If you have the strength we will listen.” He manipulated a lever giving the captive a drink of water down the tube in the back of her throat, not delicious, but something to quench the thirst of surgery and bacta. The holocams surrounding the tank recorded on, transmitting to the Head of State and Kyrie. Deckard had his suspicions that they had been sold a lie, the name she had given matched records taken from Königreich des Teufels, but that lists

last update was a decade before the current date. As much as he disliked the Sith, he would not reccomend execution on someone innocent.

 

___________________________

 

 

Raven grinned at the wookiee and slipped her translation droid into her ear. A little plastoid and rubber device that piped an automatic translation of Shyriiwook to Galactic Basic. Though the voice was not Kirloccas, the little droid tried its best to provide the deep bassy voice that it imagined the wookiee would have, but it was often imprecise. She responded when the tiny beep from the droid indicated that it had finished its translation.

 

“I do not blame the Jedi for their inaction. The galaxy is large and full of terrors that stretch your men and women too thin. It was a Jedi, Kyrie, that led our ground troops against what could possibly been the Dark Lord of the Sith while I was in the air against the Sith fleet. Whatever help you can give I would appreciate. We lost millions of innocents and imperial blood screams for revenge. But not against the GA, never against them. I am happy that you are here, nothing does my heart more good than seeing you and your Jedi helping us.”

 

She perched herself on the couch beside him and looked him in the eyes. “You look distant Kirlocca, what do you sense?” She worriedly shifted and unclicked the obsidian handled lightsabre from her belt and placed it on the low table beside her. She looked guiltily at it. “You know I was trained as a Sith once, a lifetime ago.” A long time ago, she had failed out, and had been ejected from the academy. A history that little or no one knew. Her darkest secret.

[Haphaestus]

Haphaestus knew not why the Remnant wished to field test the Enyo-class rather than the Phobos-class, but the order was huge even with all the infrastructure they'd built. It exceeded their current stock of Enyo-class, so the order would have to wait for the production lines to churn out the last few hundred units, but unless the Moff was expecting his droids within the next couple days, it wouldn't be an issue. Haphaestus was willing to push their equipment and their employees when there were sums of this amount involved. Lemnos treated its employees very fairly and offered excellent benefits and monetary bonuses for working extra hours; Haphaestus preferred for it to have a name as a desirable employer and found that the benefits thereof outweighed the credits the company could save by treating its workers as slaves.

 

"Well done," he told Kitaara. Lemnos was already profiting from this conflict. Plotting careful next steps would be important as the continued to maneuver the company up from being worth merely a few hundred million to being worth billions of credits. Then they would see just what kind of mark they could leave on this galaxy by starting to turn credits into something that actually mattered.

 

"As for the Lieutenant. I am certain she is a capable starfighter commander, as she flew against the Sith forces here and offered some insight into the engagement," he explained in his usual precise tones. "As a conversationalist she was merely adequate." If he was aware of Kitaara's sour emotional undercurrent when it came to the subject, which was possible due to their Force bond, he gave no indication of it.

 

He looked back out over the gathering. "We have been very efficient. But I believe we will be met with an opportunity if we remain for a while." The shatterpoint probably represented an opportunity, at least. At least half the possible outcomes he could see were utter disasters for both of them.

[Emily]

Emily closed her eyes, as if gaining strength. The drink of water was welcome--it had been days since she had drank anything. The med droids had been keeping her alive and hydrated, but it was all intravenous. She slowly opened them again. "He lied. I fought no Jedi. Haven't for years." She was silent for a long moment, debating whether to offer the Imperials the truth. She knew they didn't care two straws about her, and that it was likely her telling Xae-Lin about the Cult that had been part of the reason she had drawn the Cult's ire. Telling the Imperial Remnant about them might not be the smartest move. Then she scoffed at herself. They can't possibly hurt me any more than they already have. Anyway, let them come.

 

"There is a dark cult," she began slowly. "Force users and non. They are seeking the fulfillment of some prophecy." Her mind was still a little jumbled from everything she had been through, and she had no energy to drag the details from her memory. "Anyway, they didn't like me finding out about them and their plans. They...captured me." Several tears began to leak from her eyes, disappearing into the bacta she was floating in. "Did this," she choked out. "Then delivered me to you with some story. Wherever this is."

 

Her throat was closing up from trying not to cry. She didn't think she'd ever run out of tears. She was a husk of a woman, bereft of everything except tears and anger. It was the latter that drove her to answer the Imperial officer's questions. If the Imperials could join the hunt, or at least be made aware of the Cult's workings, then perhaps the secrecy the Cult was so keen to work in would be shattered.

[DoctorOblivious]

At last, Sophia was released from Imperial custody. It was everything that the historian could manage to not breathe a sigh of relief when she was hurried from the holding cell and presented with her belongings. Not that the Lieutenant wasn’t fairly good looking--the uniform suited him rather well--but the thought of any individual who had it in their power to make her life difficult or short developing a personal interest in her was something out of any sensible woman’s nightmares.

 

Finally free to continue with her visit to Carida, Sophia summoned an airspeeder from the spaceport and left with directions to her home away from home…

 

 

 

…Approximately an hour later, Sophia found herself entering a neutrally-colored closet, a rather sad suite with a pretentious name that was only large enough to accommodate a small bed, a miserable little plastwood desk, refresher unit. “‘Ideal for the frugal traveller’, indeed,” the historian muttered as frowned at her meager lodgings and placed her backpack on the bed for inspection. It didn’t appear that the Imperials had tampered with the artifacts that had brought to Carida; their protective container was tightly sealed and pumped full of a protective gas to prevent damage caused exposure to the atmosphere. Not that Draygo’s archives required the protection, but the seal around the reinforced canister was intact and showed no signs of tampering.

 

She then closely inspected her clothing any traces of homing beacons or recording devices. Sophia knew some basic fieldcraft, but she had to admit to herself that if the Ubiqtorate or Imperial Intelligence had taken a close interest in her affairs, it was likely that she would miss any devices that they might have placed in her effects. The historian would just have to hope that her entrance hadn’t attracted too much attention and that she hadn’t just made life difficult for Draygo’s son. Dissatisfied with her search but understanding that she wasn’t likely to find anything, Sophia pulled out her datapad to check her messages and groaned inwardly.

 

An alert had just been issued from the Galactic Alliance that travel to and from Triple Zero had just been severely restricted after the development of a deadly epidemic that had been imported from a world that Sophia had never even heard of. Unless the Alliance embassy on Carida managed to come through for her, there was a very good chance that the historian’s stay at the Imperial capital would be significantly lengthened. Such was standard for Sophia’s luck the last few days, but there wasn’t anything she could do about this development other than continue on and hope that her visit wasn’t completely unproductive.

 

Judging from Aidan’s knee-jerk reaction to her comms, the young Imperial Knight--Sophia still couldn't quite grasp what had inspired that allegiance--was in no way inclined to speak to anyone claiming a relationship with his mother. An understandable reaction, though having an Imperial officer deny any connection to a stranger who was already under polite suspicion had the potential to be disastrous in the capital. Fortunately, the historian had an emotional trump card in the form of a few objects recovered from her ship, including a holographic picture frame that would likely be of great sentimental value to him.

 

Sophia reached into her bag and retrieved a set of miniature screwdrivers and mechanic’s loupes. The holographic frame was an inexpensive commercial model, but once the historian pried away its plasteel case to reveal a surprisingly tidy rewiring of its innards, it was obvious that Draygo had spliced in a few aftermarket components. The frame and battery might have been commercial-grade, but everything else had been gutted and replaced, including a few components that Sophia couldn’t even recognize. Peering closely at these chipsets, it appeared the device hadn’t even suffered any damage from years of neglect in the Gravedigger.

 

Sophia frowned. Either the battery of this little momento was too weak to attract the attention of the mynocks in her ship, or it too heavily reinforced to be easily breached by their feeding frenzy. The battery was still intact; it was only drained, as though the holoprojector had been left running until it ran out of juice. This was an easy repair to make; biting her lower lip as she worked, Sophia carefully plucked out the battery with a set of antistatic tweezers and replaced it with a compatible model from her pack.

 

The holoprojector flickered to life almost immediately once the battery was replaced. Willing her hands to not shake from excitement, Sophia closed up the device’s plasteel case and flipped it over to watch as holographs cycled according to a timer in the frame’s software. A starfield currently occupied its space, to be replaced by a projection of a forested foothills, stars barely visible with the arrival of dawn or twilight. Without comprehending how she knew, Sophia realized that that she was looking at a scene from Alderaan.

 

Another starfield. Then a holograph of an infant boy sleeping peacefully, his tiny body covered by a thin blue blanket. That must have been Aidan as a toddler, most likely when his grandmother was raising him while Draygo was conducting the Republic’s efforts in the Civil War.

 

Then came a view of a darkened subterranean passage on an unknown planet, a beam of light faintly visible through a craggy ceiling and glinting softly against a water-slickened wall. Sophia could only barely make out the outline of a trail of climbing ropes and a set of clips that had been hammered into the roughly-hewn wall. Sophia frowned; from what the historian understood, Draygo had something of a passion for spelunking, but why would the Jedi Grandmaster have brought a holocam on an expedition for lightsaber crystals?

 

Another field. This subject, Sophia recognized immediately. Aryian Darkfire was kneeling on the jagged wing of his StarViper starfighter, his eyes obscured by a set of shielded welding goggles but his face otherwise exposed. His hands were buried wrist-deep in the guts of his starfighter, tinkering with the workings of one of the hull-mounted laser cannons. Sophia smirked when she realized that the focus of the holograph was the Jedi Master’s grease-stained hands and wrists, but Darkfire showed no sign that she was aware that he was being oggled at by his wife.

 

Another transition followed; another starfield, then a holographic from an arched, reinforced hangar. An massive, eight-limbed war droid knelt just before Draygo’s point-of-view, an array of sensors decorating its body cast slightly downward in a display of almost fanatical adoration. A pale hand rested on its armored leg, fingers tracing an identification rune that had been laser-etched into its plating.

 

Moriarty finally realized that these holographs must have been captured from an implant in Draygo’s eyes; that explained the focus and perspective of the images. The scenes continued, interspersed by unfamiliar starfields from planets that Moriarty could only guess at. Perhaps she would have time to delve into the metadata of the holos to see if she could find any information regarding where the images were captured, but for the moment, Sophia just watched, mesmerized by these scenes from another life.

[Raven Nasra]

A single black eyebrow arched in suspicion, “Tell me about this cult, what is its name? Is it sith aligned, what are its goals?” It sounded like the rumoured cult that had just attacked the GA planet of Bothawui, could it be the same entity? He decided to ask another question before he summoned backup on the subject. “What did they do to you?” If this sith cult was a threat to the galaxy as a whole then the imperials would lead the charge against it. There was only one way left to see if she was telling the truth.

 

With a flick of his hand, the datapad signaled the imperial knights to enter.

[Emily]

Now that she was talking, it was easier to keep going. "It's called the Cult of Morthos. They seek to plunge the galaxy into darkness. Do you remember Vladimir Faust's last stand at the Coruscant Memorial? He was trying to destroy the galaxy, to overwhelm it with darkness, until those two Jedi stopped him. This Cult is following those same steps, but they are determined not to fail this time. They're seeking a champion--possibly the Sith'ari, if you know anything about Sith prophecy--who will succeed where Faust failed. I do not know who their leader is. They just refer to him as the Master. They are very secretive. Which I think is part of the reason I ran foul of them. I warned the Jedi about them, and I don't think they liked that."

 

The Imperial's next question, however, tossed Emily off the emotional rock she clung to and back into the icy waves of anguish. She shook her head violently. She wouldn't say it. Couldn't say it. Saying it made it more real. And she couldn't accept that. She was glad that the Force had been stripped from her since before it had happened; the sensation of emptiness she was feeling was deep enough without adding yet another sense confirming the truth.

 

The bacta was becoming increasingly saline as more tears mixed with it. She shook her head again, and all she could do to answer the Imperial was put her hand on her scarred abdomen.

[Kyrie Eleison]

The Exorcist passed through the door of the cellblock’s medical bay and into the embrace of the Ysalamiri’s repulsion. The burning fire that filled every heartbeat flickered and turned itself to cold embers, and the girl shivered as she was detached from her flames. It felt as though she had been thrown into a pool of iced water, the Force which for so long had wrapped her in its strength was gone. She closed her eyes behind her HUD, taking a faltering breath as she focused on each footstep, her armoured leather boots making little sound as they moved on the shining tiles.

 

Her emerald eyes passed up from the tiles, and onto the woman, floating in the rosewater of bacta. Even without the comfort of the Song, the Exorcist could read her grief in her emotions and the way she held herself within the immersion-bath. Behind the mask of her Imperial Commando’s helmet, Kyrie’s eyes studied her features, attempting to place the woman within her memories even as she brought up the medical chart provided by the medical staff. Her blood volume was raised, as were prolactin and parathyroid hormone levels. Her voice was oddly warm as she spoke through the synthesizer of her helmet.

 

“I can answer that for you… She is still showing signs of pregnancy, without the…”

 

Kyrie trailed off her sentence, allowing the impact of the implication to drop about them like the leaves of a Olang Tree in fall. She passed by the interrogator, the speed of her footsteps causing her kama to swirl about her armoured legs as she moved. She placed a gloved hand against the tank’s transparsteel, feeling the warmth of the liquid behind it. With one hand she slipped the helmet from her head, letting her braids fall about her scarred face as she gazed upon the woman within. She had remembered. Her eyes narrowed in a tight glare of stony emerald, intertwined with pity.

 

“All is not lost, Darksider... Awake, Arise, or be forever Fallen. Help us destroy this cult, with unconquerable will and courage, look to the light and help us."

 

Her words were harsh, but held a questioning tone, as if to give the woman a reason to disprove her accusation. Her own memories were replaying the scenes of crumbling stone and a perishing master, as she herself had protected a temple under siege.

[Kitaara Shiri]

Merely adequate. Something about hearing those words put out the fire that had ignited in her gut, soothed the growling animal that demanded retaliation for--what, exactly? What had the officer even done to earn such a heavy dose of visceral ire?

 

Whatever it was, it was no longer worth her attention. Her teacher's commendation was enough to put the unhelpful surge of emotion out of her mind, and Kitaara felt the proud smirk return to her features at his acknowledgment of her work with the officers. Haphaestus was right: there were other opportunities to be capitalized upon. Setting it aside like so much detritus, she took his arm elegantly.

 

"What else do you see?" she asked quietly, assured that he would know she was referring to his penchant for seeing shatterpoints, but to any overeager observer it would simply give the impression that she was deferring the next social move to him.

[Emily]

Someone new came in the room. Emily didn't pay the Imperial commando any attention, until she came over to the bacta tank and removed her helmet, revealing a heavily-scarred woman with a piercing green gaze. Emily's own two-colored eyes met the other woman's. She saw hardness in her eyes, a will of iron, a soldier. But also someone who was not without compassion.

 

"I will fight them with every breath in my body," Emily replied after a moment. "They deserve no mercy, no hesitation. If you will fight them, then we fight together."

 

She didn't deny the woman's accusation that she was a dark-sider. Honestly that was what she felt like most of the time, especially in the past few weeks. But she hoped that this woman, whoever she was, and the Imperial officer still standing there, would put aside any hesitation and work with her. She didn't have any friends...but she'd take allies.

[Kala Ianauria]

Cold crept through Kala’s veins at the contempt in IC-426’s speech. The sudden lack of compassion or forgiveness startled her until the man’s other line registered with her concerning her progress towards a ‘Battle Meditation’ with her troops.

 

She turned towards her troops and spoke in a cool, level tone.

 

“Let me handle this. Captain, you, 1st Sergeant Viggen, and River will stay here with me. The rest of you, get to the nearest squad bay and draw the equipment necessary for a hostage rescue in hostile territory. If you don’t like what they issue, get creative. Stay on comms for further orders. Dismissed.”

 

She watched her troops file out, felt the warmth return to her veins after the last trooper disappeared through a hatch approximately 4 or 5 meters away. She bent over the tactical map, motioning for her remaining troops to join her and begin plotting the most efficient route through the area.

 

As the three began making notations in the holotanks viewing area, she turned to address IC-426. There were a few points that needed clarifying and she felt it her duty to make her points crystal clear on behalf of the Empress and her troopers. .

 

“IC-426, there are a couple of things you should consider before speaking of indigenes as making their home smell, before you openly discriminate against anyone whom you disagree with. The Empire cannot allow itself to repeat the mistakes of the past. It must be compassionate and merciful when appropriate unless we want a repeat of the GCW on our hands. That includes in our hearts and minds.”

She turned, walked over and stood within an inch or so of him. Too her irritation she had to look up to lock eyes with the man, yet not nearly as much as she might once have had to. The growth spurt seemed to be coming in handy for more than just causing her coordination problems.

 

“You should know most of my troopers, my Wild Bunch came from places that, except for architecture and history, have residents used to conditions found in a city like that. The Captain comes from some of the worst slums on Coruscant, never saw sunlight till they day she transported for Carida. My 1st Sergeant comes from Nar Shadaa, his parents were adult entertainers. They specialized in live theatre presentations.”

 

Without closing her eyes, she let the Song of the Force play within her mind, felt the way the notes wrapped around IC-426, then compelled them to tighten about him and lift him about a meter from the floor. She barely resisted the temptation to toss him across the room.

 

“As for River, she was a bondservant to my House on Kuat. If your unaware, that meant she was a slave. I was born a Kuati noble. All of that means nothing, we all serve the Empire now with the same rights, responsibilities and freedoms. The Old Empire with its intolerance and hate must never rise again.”

 

Just before she dropped him back to his feet, she snarled angrily, “And last, I am not a Jedi, I am an Imperial Knight and our mandate is to defend and protect the citizens of the Empire. All of the citizens, regardless of class, race, or wealth. If you have a problem with that, being a Knight carries enough rank to see you cleaning latrines for the rest of your enlistment.”

Finished, she turned away from him and back towards the three at the planning table. Much of the fire from her trooper’s ire washed from her nerves, replaced with the icy competence she and the Empire needed from her troops.

 

There was the faintest hint of approval behind the competence.

 

“Captain,” said Kala, “when you get a chance, brief my troopers on my family. Let them know that at some point I am going to half to return home and confront my mother and my family’s legacy directly. Anyone whom wants to join me will need to volunteer as its going to require them to be ready for anything.”

 

Closing her eyes to focus her attention on the exercise at hand, she pointed to the map.

 

“Alright, tell me what we got, what we want, and how were going to use it.”

 

The discussion raged for the next next half hour, with Kala mentally noting that their tactics seemed limited to just using issued equipment. She quietly wondered why until it occurred to her they just simply didn’t know what else they might acquire and were having the good sense not to mention anything unusual in front of the command staff.

 

“Enough,” she said. “Let’s continue our planning in the squad bay once we find out our loadouts.”

 

The four of them stood straight, saluted the command staff and walked out the door. Once they were out of the hearing of the staff, River turned towards her and said, “I want to be there when you confront your family. I have some questions for them.”

 

Kala nodded towards the young woman. “I figured you might.”

 

Something stirred in the Force and Kala extended her senses towards it, not thinking about having to do so, just doing it in a way that made it seem almost like a sense she’d been born knowing.

“Well 1st Sergeant, out with it.”

 

The man looked over her in surprise for a second.

 

River spoke for them all. “This takes some getting used to, working closely with someone whom can sense at least the form of our thoughts.”

 

Kala smile, still waiting for the 1st Sergeant’s report but joining in the banter, “Wait until my ‘Battle Meditation grows stronger and your able to understand each other’s emotion, intentions, and eventually each other’s thoughts.”

 

River responded quietly, “A ‘battle meditation’ can go that far?”

 

“A strong enough practitioner can do so for entire fleets light years apart,” said Kala. “Or so the Jedi believe anyway. The Sith have an actual example. A certain Emperor once extended his control to the entire fleet at every outpost in the Empire on a daily basis.”

 

Chills went up four spines at Kala’s pronouncement.

 

The 1st Sergeant’s voice broke the spell. “Well Lady Kala,” she began. Kala felt a warmth from the trooper when she called her that. “The lieutenant didn’t like our loadout at all. Thought they should give us more than what they did, so he took two of troopers with high piloting aptitude and went scrounging.”

 

“So what did he find,” asked the Captain.

 

“Well ma’am, he just reported acquiring some heavy andlight repeaters, grenade launchers and a couple of man-portable mortars when his group came upon a SpecOps M.A.A.T., we call them Starhunters, and a pair of Nemisis[/i} class gunships.”

 

“Serious firepower, Knight Kala,” said her Captain.

 

“Good,” said Kala, “let’s show them what the ‘Wild Bunch’ can do.”

[Wookiee Jedi]

Kirlocca reached out, trying to find exactly what he was feeling that felt... well, for a lack of better terms, weird. He found himself looking directly at Raven's eyes. She had clearly asked him something, or said something and was awaiting a reply. The Jedi Master suddenly felt very embarrassed at his own lack of perception to remain in the moment. Shuffling himself where he sat, he cleared his throat. He only remembered her asking what he was feeling, so he would answer that.

 

<< I couldn't tell you exactly. It's almost like a ping in the Force that is radiating out... But... I can't feel what it causing the ping, which is not natural. >>

 

Kirlocca looked out the window and tried to feel the ping again in the Force, but somehow was met with the same vision he kept having on Ossus. Like a rush within his mind, The sound of lightsabers clashing, a flash of red and heat overtook him. He suddenly found his vision going in and out as he looked from his own lightsaber hilt to the ground next to him and a very beautiful blue sky. He then looked to find himself wrapped in a blue light, the only clear image being that of Kitt Fitt standing over him with a welcoming smile. His face became a bit more aware. It was the same vision, but the Jedi at the end kept changing. First, it was his Master Mari. Then Ara-lai. Now, Kitt. It brought his focus back, as he could now feel the Force very strongly on the planet. He felt ashamed for not feeling it so clearly, or that Raven's own presence was suddenly found next to him. How could he have never known about her Force presence before now? Maybe his vision was telling him not to fall into the same trap of the old Jedi Master's and loose sight of what the now, which was where the Force was most active? Looking back at Raven, he gave her a smile.

 

<< It is not worth worrying about, much like your past. All that matters now is the Jedi doing what we can to render aid. I come here to provide some wisdom, and I offer my advice to you on your next move. I would urge for you to remain strong on your stance. Hard choices reveal quickly in time who will stand by your side when you need it. Don't be afraid of the bridges you may burn. The Galaxy is on the brink of war. There is a dark tide coming. It's waiting upon the right pin to drop. You need to make sure you have the right friends on your side... >>

 

Kirlocca left his words to hang on purpose. He also made sure that is last line held some weight to it. He wouldn't openly bring the Jedi into the Imperial Remnant, but he was more than willing to stand side by side with them in their endeavor, which may lead to a new era coming.

[Sandy Sarna]

When she walked into the melee sparring area Sandy could sense the idea forming in her master's mind. She slipped off her soft brown leather boots, her robe, and tightened her belt. Leaving her in her thin green tunic and leggings. Feeling the rough dirt under her bare feet. Sandy gratefully accepted one of the saber hilts, taking the thinner two handed pommel instead of the larger one and a half hand blade hilt. She rolled her head around in an arc, cracking her neck and dropped into a fighting stance, taking in the room about her. She gripped at the ground with her toes and reached out with her senses, taking in the room, the unevenness of the dirt ground, the dirt mounds, duracrete bricks, and little pieces of glass that covered the floor from a hundred training exercises. She expanded her senses and found the fourteen or so troopers that were sitting around after their own exercises and starting to stare at the two jedi.

 

An audience. Great.

 

She slowly bent her back leg and breathed out sharply, letting the air flow out of her lungs before the sprang into an attack. Her finger slipping onto the activation button as she made the move. A yellow green blade shot up from her hands as she jumped towards Vos, using the force to augment her muscles into a leap that covered the ten feet between them, with the arc of the jump taking her to the front and side of Tobias, her hands leveraging the blade to protect her as well as culminating in a downwards slash. If her master was especially bad at his job, she would land the training saber on his head, and singe a new bald spot.

[Kyrie Eleison]

The Exorcist traced a small pattern into the condensation that clung to the bacta tank, feeling the cool droplets upon her gloves. She began to draw the symbols of the Force that Il-Andon had passed to her during her time on Gala, the ones she had used to summon the ancient spirits to help in her battle against the Barabel Lockjaw. Her emerald eyes flashed, and a pair of stormtroopers stepped into the room, casually keeping the floating girl within their range of fire. She spoke to both the commander, and to the darksider, her voice probing and excited. It would be revealed to the woman she spoke to the nature of her service to the Empire

 

“Remove the Ysalamiri. Let us both feel the sanctuary of the Song.”

 

As the droids brought the creatures securely into the hall, the bubble within which the force could not be felt began to recede. As it passed over her, the fires within The Exorcist were kindled anew, and the emeralds were replaced with the glow of silvered flame. The Song about her was excited and she turned her mind towards the Darksider, as the symbols began to glow.

 

“Let us find a target and we can fight the darkness of this cult together…”

---

 

To the deploying Wild Bunch, would appear a hulking gate, half broken and rusting. It was twenty meters across, and upon distant approach, three XM-432 battle droids could be seen on standardized patrols. The deployment of the dropships would place them within a treeline around two-hundred meters away as darkness fell. Through the gate, could be seen a maze of slums with various amounts of movement in each alley.

 

((OOC: Let's see a tactical takedown and entry))

[Emily]

At the soldier's command to remove the ysalamiri, dread clenched in Emily's gut. Briefly, she realized the words meant that this woman was a Force-user. Some kind of Jedi, perhaps? Were the Jedi working with the Empire now?

 

But the thoughts were flickering, unimportant, drowned in the tidal wave of renewed emotional duress as she braced herself for the onslaught of information and emptiness that her sixth sense would bring her.

 

But then the Force returned to her in a rush and...her tears began to fall in earnest. Instead of the empty coldness, the hard truth of her loss crushing her spirit, she was wrapped in a sense of compassion, of peace. It was as if the Force itself wept with her. And that broke her heart as surely as anything had. She had been so ready to blame the Force for all of this. But it was as if this part of her had suffered too, and it took all that pain, and all that sorrow, and all that anger, and was twisting in a way she didn't expect.

 

Perhaps it was from the presence of the Jedi. The last time she had felt anything similar was...

 

They sat in a garden, surrounded by a riot of flowers of every shape, pattern, and color. But her attention was as equally pulled by the eyes of the man sitting next to her.

 

"If everything dies," she asked him, "what is the point?"

 

"I have wondered the same thing, before," he said. He took her hand, placed it lightly around the nearest flower still glistening with quiet droplets of dew. "That is when I first learned to love flowers. First I loved the ocean, and the only reason I learned to love it was because I had to learn from it to learn my family's meditation. I told you of that day, when I helped that creature from the sea in leaving its body--after that I could not reconcile myself with death. It did not help that winter came within a month. My mother told me to go into the woodlands every day at dawn, and I did, and nothing seemed to happen. Until one morning, nearly a month before spring was supposed to begin, I saw the smallest flower bursting through the snow, so eager to live that it had raised itself up too soon."

 

He met her eyes. "Everything is transient, but each flower that dies lives on in the enduring birth of every other flower born beside it. I feel for you, that you have had to endure so much. But you are here, now; whether you believe it to be for a reason, or mere coincidence, it can mean something to you now that you are in a place that is entirely consumed by the cycle of life and death."

 

He laughed, very lightly, and his eyes glimmered. "If everything dies, I think the point is, to live."

 

He was right; there was always spring after winter, and new life after death. It was the way of the universe. "If you're right, that means death is not an end, but a beginning." She wanted to believe that. If it was so, then all the death she had encountered in her life was not in vain, not something to despair over. Perhaps it wasn't quite something to celebrate, but if she truly believed that, then it made their deaths more easy to accept.

 

Somewhere in all her years of sorrow and pain and loneliness, she had forgotten that one simple truth. The Force was more than death, more than a vicious goddess who threw the dice and someone in the galaxy paid time and time again. It also was at the heart of every flower, of every smile, of every moment of love she had felt from Quietus. Life was not just a pile of bad things. There was good, too. And while it seemed to her now, at the very bottom of what life had to offer, that the good would never make up for the bad, the bad didn't necessarily ruin the good or make it unimportant.

 

She took a deep shuddering breath, and reached out, letting the Force pour into her, filling up her emptiness with a tentative peace. It was the kind of peace that comes after a good cry, fragile and delicate, but for Emily, it was like a drink of fresh water to help purge the poison from her system.

 

She finally looked up again. The green-eyed woman now had a glowing silver glare, and symbols the like of which Emily had never seen before glowed on the outside of her bacta tank. That was strange--Emily had studied many Force traditions, but whatever this woman was doing was something she had never encountered before. Deep down, though, she didn't think this woman was going to harm her. And now that she had the Force again, she could tell the woman's words had been true.

 

Whatever was going to happen next, Emily was ready. She opened her mind, dropping her mental barriers. She was an open book with nothing to hide.

[Tobias Vos]

Sandy took one hilt and made her way to the arena. Vos offered the other hilt to McNamara- who waved it away with a equal promise and threat of 'next time.' A teasing tone about the words. Vos shrugged and walked to a spot just across from his apprentice. He activated his lightsaber and brought the saber in a high guard position. He felt the soldiers finch at the first and second saber igniting, but most were still here- watching in awe, condemnation? Contempt?

 

Vos would have let his lip twitch up in a small smile, but Sandy took the initiative. Good. In an instant she was upon him- but he was stronger in the Force, at the moment, and he saw the jump in all its speedy glory. Bringing his own blade down- and around like one would use a yolf-club, or whatever the sport was. It would have been a blur of motion for anyone not attuned to the Force, so anyone analyzing the fight would just see a blur of motion. The blades connected with a groan- Sandy coming down where Vos stood a instant before- and the clash happened about the meter above the floor. Letting the blades sizzle together for a moment, he slide his blade up just a fraction and put his strength into the blade- it was as if he completed the swing- the blade went from down his torso- and up across him and into the air. For flare, he gave into the spin and he rotated twice away from his apprentice- bringing his blade up in an inverted grip, and brought his hand across his body for a guard position- the blade ready to go up or down, depending on Sandy's attack. Keeping his center of gravity lower, Vos bent his knees and even took a step back to complete the defensive posture.

 

He could feel the troops around them in surprise- he was taller and dwarfed the girl attacking him, why was the bigger, stronger combatant letting the 90-pound-soaking-wet-girl lead the attack? The curiosity was almost palpable. Yah know, if you were attuned to the Force.

[Beck Pilon]

Beck found himself getting dressed after having his clone awaken on Carida. He would have thought that such a spare would have been kept on Oovo IV, the imperial base where his batch of clones were created first. But since the base hasn't seen action since he left long ago, it was only natural to assume he was here due to a greater need... or activity. Either way, the Imperial Major got dressed and began to review within his own mind what exactly happened on Bespin, as in the moment, he really didn't give much thought into what he was doing. It was all whimsical for him to just engage in battle, as he had not done so in a very long time.

 

Finally dressed in black boots, white pants, a black imperial officers shirt and his black cape, he marched himself down to Raven's office to report on what exactly had happened. Beck opened the doors to Head of State Raven Zinthos' office with a great impavid attitude. He began to speak, without giving any regards to the ugly looking throw pillow on the couch with her.

 

"I have the most important and urgent news. Black Sun's facilities on Bespin have not been rendered out, as the city seemed strong enough to repel a star destroyer. Chances are that the forces there have moved away and could regroup with their other forces. I- OH, THAT THROW RUG MOVED." It was then that Beck realized it was a Wookiee. Not just any Wookiee, Kirlocca. The Jedi Master who was famous for doing massive damage against the Empire during the heydays of the war. Had he not looked so friendly and relaxed in the presence of the Head of State, Beck wold have shot him already. "My apologies Master Kirlocca. Here I am being all catawampus of sorts in the one Jedi who was worth the challenge. I'm Major Beck Pilon." Beck exnteded his arm for a handshake, but wasn't sure he would get it.

[Raven Nasra]

Raven was skeptical at the Grandmaster’s response, his lack of attention had set off alarm bells in her head that such a simple answer would not so easily dismiss. She could feel the faint stir in the force from where he sat, and his black eyes looked so sad. She wasn’t at all an expert in the reading of alien expressions, she had the ISB experts for that, but there were none here now, and that made her feel completely vulnerable. So she was forced to go off instinct.

 

She responded in her softest tone, “You and your people are always welcome here Kirlocca, I thank you for your advice, I will keep the course.” She lightly touched his hand, “Will you tell me if the course ever takes us close to the edge of darkness?” She didn’t want to say it, but the Empire had always struggled to keep a righteous path, and even under her atrocities had been committed. “I do not want to tread into hell with the intention of striding into the light.” With hesitations she began to reach for his hand, she had never been good at reading romantic prospects, leading to some spectacular failures at the old academy. Hopefully this was not one of those times. As her thin fingers touched his large strong hands, the locked door whisked open and the last person she wanted to see stalked in looking like he was ready to go to a military parade.

 

Beck Pilon.

 

That man that had thrown away the lives of nearly a hundred lives and the last imperial heavy cruiser on a foolish gamble. Not to mention committed some of the worst war crimes this side of the Kessel Run. Raven’s lip curled in a sneer and she lept to her feet, her black polished boots shining against the white tile and strode to the man. She clenched her hand around the obsidian handle on her belt and with a yank clubbed him across the right side of the head with the back side of her curled fist. She stepped forward and struck him three more times two hits per side of his face. A half dozen royal guards that had rushed after the major froze in their tracks. Their faces a mask of shock and indecision. She curled her lip again, “You committed a thousand acts of atrocity on Bespin Major, if you expect to survive until your next promotion you will never conduct such acts again. You are assigned to rebuild the imperial fleet at Kuat, and if you ever commit a war crime again, I will personally execute you and your men.” She handed him a datapad, “You are also in charge of negotiating the release of the six hundred of your men you let get captured and are now to be ransomed.” She turned her back. “Thank you Major, that is all.”

The royal guard saw him out.

 

She did not blame the man for such actions as he had been trained under Emperor Deton, where such acts had been commonplace, even celebrated. But this was a new Empire. As the man made his retreat she glanced back at Kirlocca and hoped he would not be too shocked.

[Wookiee Jedi]

Kirlocca acknowledged Raven's own words and placed his paw upon her shoulder as she took her own hand through the fur on his forearm and paw, but found himself suddenly looking at an Imperial leader of some sorts. Raven seemed to be a bit rustled by his sudden appearance, and the man himself cocky, wild, reckless, and almost stone cold in calloused convictions. Namely, he was a dangerous man. Carefully, the Jedi Grandmaster stood up and offered his paw to him, but almost as soon as he did, Raven let loose on the man. Her displacement towards him seemed justified, and she handled him for the moment very decently. As soon as he was out of the room, the Wookiee made a slow walk to stand next to Raven.

 

<< I would be careful with that one... Too much freedom and he will become a nightmare to the galaxy. Too much control extorted over him and he may become your worst enemy. >>

 

Kirlocca sadly held no other words of wisdom for her on that man. Major Pilon was someone who could either destroy what she was trying to build or he could plague it. It would be a fine line for her, and one that he hopes he would never see one side come to fruition. Carefully, he placed both paws upon her shoulders and pulled her in for a firm hug of support. He wasn't too keen on humans and how they showed affection, but he was sure that if ever there was a time for him to do so, it was now.

 

<< You are doing beyond a fine job. Leading a once ruthless and vicious empire into a new era is no easy task. Hardships will come your way. >>

 

The Jedi Master felt a small ping of guilt, as he didn't give her his full attention upon arrival. He decided to keep her informed on what was going now within his own mind.

 

<< The advice I will give you know, I will also take. Changing my role to Grandmaster from well known Jedi warrior who was always in the thick of battles hasn't been an easy transition. I know that such a warrior isn't needed as the leader. So I have been attempting to explore the mysteries of the Force more. In doing, many visions have come to me, none of which have been very clear. But much like treading the Force, new timers have been known to see a mix of both he past and present. The visions are so vague that they carry almost no weight. I need to do what I want for you to do... Sit and relax. Maybe now we both will get that. >>

[Kyrie Eleison]

The Exorcist’s hand pressed upon the glass, her fingers curling slightly as she passed through the rhythm of the Song. There were voices upon the air, and their words brought a story of reclamation with the breath of the wind. The woman’s mind was open, and the Force played through her like a gentle breeze, causing a whisper of fluttering leaves within the trees. The Exorcist let herself fall into the flow of the living Force, letting her silvered eyes fall closed as her mind struggled

 

A breath. A thought not her own

 

It binds us together, all living things, past, present and future. The Song fills each in their turn, and overflows in the abandonment of self. This woman is passing into the light after so many years in the darkness, be the helping hand she needs…

 

A breath. Her own voice in her head

 

She spilled blood, innocent blood. She deserves to meet the light in judgement, not as a friend with an embrace! She is SITH!

 

A breath. An answer

 

Darkness lies behind every lightbeam, and some fall into it as an answer to their own abandonment, to solve their problems. Or because it was far easier a path. Would you judge this woman, who gives herself to the light so willingly, to turn from her depravity to our calling… One who has lost her own daughter?

 

A breath. Indignation

 

I lost EVERYTHING! I lost EVERYONE! I was violated and tortured, and still I embraced the just path. This woman fell, and has done unspeakable evil. She led the attack on Gala beside that Wyrm. I resisted evil. I fought for my life against people like HER! Her type SCARRED ME they... Raped me. They took my sister. Why should she regain the light, she doesn’t DESERVE its embrace!

 

A shuddering breath. A single tear

 

Deserve? She has passed through evil and come to the light on her own. She doesn’t deserve your scorn, she deserves an embrace in love. Her path has taken her from the table of the light, to the bed of evil, to the enslavement from the hands of her own deeds, and now she returns to us in humility. Judge not, for once she was dead, now she is alive.

 

The eyes of the Exorcist opened, and a small smile strained against the scars that lined her face. She reached out through the force, not to invade and tear information from the woman, but with comfort and mutual sorrow for what had been lost. On one side the loss of a child, the other the loss of a family. The glowing symbols faded into nothingness, leaving a whisper within the song of release.

 

...My name is Kyrie Eleison, Exorcist of the Imperial Knights. Rest and heal, if you desire we can speak when you are ready. I wish to learn what I can of this cult, so we can destroy it. You can leave when you desire, I will not keep you here outside your will.

[Aidan Darkfire]

It had been a long day of training, and Aidan returned to his room, exhausted. He hadn't expected military training to be so physically demanding, though in hindsight he probably should have. Still, by the end of the day, he felt much closer to many of the troops in his assigned unit than he expected.

 

A note was left for him on his bunk, apparently someone was here and had been asking about him. Word travelled fast when discussing particulars about the Imperial Knights, apparently. But it was the name of the person that shocked him...wasn't it the same woman who had commed him earlier? He pulled out his common, finding the call records and sending a quick textual message to the last person who called him.

 

 

Apparently you're on Carida. What do you want?

 

 

As an afterthought, he included his barracks address in case she wanted to meet. Carida was safe enough that should she try to pull anything, guards would swarm her in seconds, so he wouldn't have to worry if she had ill intentions.

[Emily]

The Force...embraced Emily. It was like a cocoon of softness, a warm blanket on a cold rainy day. The rain still pounded at the windows of her heart, but in her inner self, she could mourn freely and without despair. It was a priceless gift.

 

There was a gentle brush of the Force, and for once, Emily didn't shut down, but reached out herself. The woman's mind was militant, rigid...and yet Emily sensed that at her core, she and Kyrie weren't that different. This woman, too, had been through suffering. Glimpses of glowing yellow eyes, the image of a slave collar, a burning anger and desire for vengeance slowly changing to justice...all these could be seen roiling beneath the woman's jade-eyed exterior.

 

And in that moment, Emily understood. She wasn't alone. It wasn't her against the galaxy. Others just like her had suffered. Were suffering. And she understood them. And understanding...understanding breeds empathy. She had heard the saying in the Jedi temple. But only now did it ring true.

 

Her gray-and-brown eyes met Kyrie's intense gaze, and Emily suddenly felt a connection with the other woman, an indescribable bond like she had never before felt. Is this...what friendship feels like? Emily had never had a friend before. But somewhere deep down, she felt the potential in this bond, and that comforted her.

 

"Thank you, Kyrie," she replied to Kyrie's introduction, her voice gentle for once. "I am Emily Zsahra-Skywalker, Grey Master. And I am in your debt for your kindness."

 

Emily knew she had a long road ahead of her. The only thing that would heal her wounds would be time, and she knew that the scars on her soul would never fully heal. She'd have to learn to live again. But she felt a trickle of hope. Someday, she'd be whole again. No matter what it took.

 

A desire to push forward, to start her journey of healing, caused her to speak again. "I will tell you all I know about the Cult. We will defeat them together. But I also need to deal with some personal issues. Some people I need to talk to. Secrets I've been keeping that need to be told. Can you set up a secure comm channel for me? Assuming I'm going to be let out of this tube?"

 

She had burned all of her relational bridges. There was no rebuilding them. But maybe, just maybe, the embers could stop glowing and smoking. It was as much as Emily could hope for.

[Stephen]

Stephen pushed the lever forward when the counter hit 0:00, and The Tokonga reverted from hyperspace to real space. Carida sat in front of him; a mottled blue and green planet. A large debris cloud orbited the planet which his computer identified as the remains of an old Clone Wars space station called Valor. After coordinating his approach vector to the planet, Stephen decided to head straight to Königreich des Teufels.

 

Upon arriving at what was left of the Sith Temple, his hopes sank. “It’s destroyed, Mate. What in the blazes happened here?” The droid replied with a mournful warble.

 

“Okay,” Stephen said thinking, “The Sith Temple is destroyed. Doesn’t mean this Mandar fella was here when it was attacked, right?” He stroked his beard in thought. “We need more information. I need to know what happened here. Who attacked the place?”

 

Stephen plotted a course for the largest city on Carida. Big cities had big spaceports. Big spaceports meant bars. Bars meant information flow. He paid for a berthing for the ship, told Mate to keep an eye on things, and headed to the nearest bar.

 

It took a couple of hours before he overheard “…des Teufels…”. He casually walked back up the bar near the table that held the speaker, ordered a local ale, and sipped it slowly.

 

Two squat aliens, a species he was unfamiliar with, were talking with each other.

 

“I’m telling you, Klatu, the old temple has to have some prime salvage. Maybe even lightsabers or kyber crystals.”

 

“Yeah, but the Imperial Remnant patrols around the site don’t make it worth the getting killed, Blorak. They are the ones who destroyed the temple, it’s their scavenge rights. I’m not taking them on for the off chance of some scrap.”

 

Blorak’s voice raised a little, “’Scrap’? You’re calling kyber crystals and lightsabers, and gods-know-what-else ‘scrap’?”

 

Klatu looked around nervously, “Stow it, Klatu. Ya want the whole planet to hear us?”

 

It was then that he noticed Stephen at the bar. Like an idiot he had turned his head and was watching them from his peripheral vision. He had been made. No choice but to put his cards on the table now.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said nonchalantly as he walked to the table, “Did you say the Remnant destroyed the temple?”

 

Klatu and Blorak stood up from the table. They were no taller than a meter at most. Klatu replied, “Not any of our business, good sir, not any of our business.”

 

Blorak bumped Stephen’s leg as he passed and muttered, “Not polite to eavesdrop, ya daft human.”

 

As he watched them leave, he took their lack of response as an affirmative. So the Imperial Remnant destroyed the temple. And recently. Hmm…

 

He walked back to the bartender, slipped the man a 50 credit chip, and asked, “Were there any Sith survivors? Is the Remnant holding them? If so, where?”