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  2. Akheron listened, even as he noticed Tros to the side, another ally of his. As Mavanger spoke his words sunk in, he made a point. It gave him much to think upon, made him question his own beliefs this far and what It meant to be a Sith. He considered was his attachment to the Fanged God, to the Brasganu another chain? After silence for a time he came to conclusion they were. That he had misplaced faith. For he had done everything for them and had nothing to show for it. No more. A revelation was made and his choice decided upon. He would break this chain and sever his connection, he had too if he wished to become all he thought he was. If he was to truly be considered a Sith in not just his own eyes but also in other's. For the Darkness to recognise him and for him to use it as intended. Closing his eyes briefly, he breathed a deep breath before releasing, feeling the current of the Force. His Darkness. And then he spoke aloud, feeling for the first time, in a long time free. As a shackle was removed. All he needed to do now was remove those who objected to the change and purge any who resisted him as was the Sith way. Starting on his ship, but first he would speak to Mavanger, he who had helped the change. A true ally. No he decided, as tempting as it might have been he would not attack Being the Dark Lord had never really appealed to him. No he was a deatroyer, a fist of iron to stamp out the Sith and the Dark Lord's enemies. A general, not a leader. "What you say is true. And you have given much to think upon and a revelation, it is time to break the final chain. The final attachment if I am to be as I wish to be. I here and now denounce the Fanged God and all his teachings, I separate myself from the Brasganu. But shall keep the parting gift of my ship. Those who would object will be purged. You have my thanks for that, I needed to hear it I think for such thoughts have crossed my mind before, and doubts have been growing in the wake of everything. I have done everything for a supposed 'God' with nothing to show for it. Only suffering. To hell with them and their beliefs. I am my own God. I am Sith." With that he lowered himself to a knee. He knelt before his better and ally, one he would now consider perhaps a friend for freeing him like this. For enlightening him even if it was not the intention. He agreed with his plan, and believed he would fair better than the others before him, for his goal was clearly to aid the Sith while others only served their own interests. Their own desires and left the Empire and their allies to rot. "I thank you for enlightening me, I had wished it been sooner. I have no desire to lead, that was never my calling. I am a destroyer, a general nothing more. It is a fact I accepted long ago, in my many failings. I will not oppose you and your claim. I accept your claim and your right to be Dark Lord, by way of your many deeds. I think you will fair far better than the others or even myself had I chosen different. Your plan is sound and in the interests of the Empire and the Order as a whole. Not focusing on yourself so much and your own needs but instead on what we all need. What the galaxy needs. You have my blade and men at your command Dark Lord Mavanger. Long may you reign and bring the Jedi and their allies to their knees."
  3. RIEVA'S CHARACTER SHEET Identity Real Name: Rieva Celwik A.K.A: Ri, Cadan Vookto (fake ID) Homeworld: Coruscant Species: Human Physical Description Age: 28 Height: 5'6" Weight: 145 Hair: Brunette Eyes: Brown Sex: Female Equipment Clothing or Armor: Standard clothing. Loves a good thigh-high boot. During heists she wears dark colors as well as a black mask. Weapon: Small blaster pistol that fits in her boot. Common Inventory: Comm link, stress relief stone necklace Faction Information Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: Force Sensitive Archetype: Explorer Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Current Faction Affiliation: Unaligned Current Faction Rank: Unaligned History Force Side: Neutral Trained by: n/a Trained who: n/a Known Skills: Telekinesis Background: Some people really have all the luck. They grow up in their houses with families who care about them, maybe even a tooka or two. It’s idyllic. Sure, you probably have to put up with a boring job, but that’s the boring part of living life. As long as you come home to a family that loves you and a nice warm meal that made the meager day-to-day job fade off into the distance. Ri was not that lucky. She did not grow up with the promise of food or a comfortable bed. She didn’t have parents who held her when she had a nightmare and told her that everything would be alright. Everything Ri knew about family was what she’d read in books. It wasn’t much, but it was something to hold onto. Rieva’s parents had the unfortunate luck of walking through a skywalk when an Airspeeder crashed into it, killing them instantly and leaving their little girl with no one but the Coruscant government to figure out who would raise her. At only four years old, Ri had to quickly understand that her parents were never coming back and that this ‘Varla” was her new ‘parent’. Though, ‘mother’ was a role Varla would never claim. The training started when you were young; pickpocketing. You learned how to spot the perfect targets, the best locations for items, and the masterful art of misdirection. Once you were able to prove yourself to the other orphans in the house, you were sent out onto the streets for the real steal. Age didn’t matter. There were a few five-year-olds out on the street, though Rieva seemed to struggle. She wasn’t able to make it out into the street until she was seven, and by then had worked up the reputation in the house as a ‘no-getter’. The thing was, she had realized quickly what others had not; the sooner you become good, the sooner the expectations appear. See, Varla wasn’t heartless. A new pickpocket wasn’t expected to come home with trinkets every single day. It would be silly to punish them for it. Now, an experienced pickpocket who always came home with ten watches and stacks of cash? They were held to a higher standard. You weren’t allowed a ‘bad day’ without punishment; typically resulting in the loss of dinner. The trick was riding the line between staying under the radar and not showing too much, and by the time she was 13, too many questions were coming up for her to continue hiding her skills. The thing about doing the wrong thing, it’s a rush. It’s terrible- but exciting- but she shouldn’t- but she has to. The thrill of ‘will they catch me?’ made every single interaction more exciting, as long as she didn’t focus on it too much. If you focus on the people you rob then you realize the pain you’re most likely bringing to their lives and… it was too much. While many of her co-conspirators had a ‘me before them’ type of attitude, she simply couldn’t think that way. Every day was essentially the same. Wake up, rob some folks, come home and chill. Wake up, rob the rich guy treating someone like shit, DON’T GET CAUGHT… go home. But one day, as many stories began, it all changed. Ri was going about her business as she usually did, only the watch strap slipped. A beautiful metal timepiece with many small, strange gems, and an apparently slippery buckle. It slipped out of her grasp and with gravity. Only… no it didn’t. Slipped out of her grasp, yes, but it remained so well in place on the woman’s wrist that she hadn’t even noticed the snafu. You could say she got out of there quickly. Perhaps she saw things and it was only a mere trick of the mind. Perhaps what she’d thought she’d seen hadn’t actually happened. So, she tried it again. Focused on the watch in question and tried to make it move. Only, it wouldn’t. That’s it, case closed. Obviously, it was an illusion. Or at least she’d hoped that until her roommate walked in and said watch flew across the bed into her pillow. That couldn’t be explained away as something misunderstood in the mind. At first it felt satisfying knowing that she had this ability, maybe even a bit comforting, but then she realized what that meant. The force. Was that what this was? Jedi and Sith tended to come along and make a mess of things for everyone involved. What would this mean for her? She did NOT want to be involved in any messes, nor did she want to potentially bring anyone to the house of thievery. So, she kept this telekinetic ability a secret, telling only her roommate and the one person she trusted more than anyone. Being a more quiet person, Ri would usually be off on her own practicing her telekinetic ability. It wasn’t much, but she was able to move and manipulate smaller items which in turn helped her succeed at robbing locations her peers struggled. It wasn’t until she was out of the house and on her own that she began giving safe cracking a try. Now that was a feat that took months to perfect, and even then it could only be done on the exact safe she had studied. She had to know the ins and outs of that exact safe type, crack it open, and manipulate it in order to give it a try. If it was a bespoke safe, ha! Good luck. She wasn’t getting in there. With Ri’s ability to get into places others couldn’t, she became sought after and hired to complete heists for pay. Hey, when you’re good at what you do, why not continue to do it? She opened up an Art Gallery, with storage of stolen goods in a hidden basement, shh, and presented herself as an exceptional example of those typical rags-to-riches stories the high-class love so much. She flew from planet to planet to get artwork for her gallery, as well as some priceless artifacts for a client or two, and made sure to keep the two worlds separate as much as possible. Keep the telekinetic ability known to only a trusted few, and trust a very select few, and all should continue well. Still, something in her gut just won’t go away. Something that tells her that everything is about to change. Ship Registration Name: Black Dahlia Class: Sheathipede Model: Transport Shuttle Manufacturer: Haor Chall Engineering Corporation Length: 14.4 meters Armaments: 2 forward-mounted laser cannons Armor: Standard Anti-Personnel Defenses: Part of the electrical area under the floorboards has been rearranged to make room for a safe. This safe requires a code in order to enter and will fill the room with a sleeping gas if input incorrectly 5 times. Modifications: The ship is tan and a bit dingy, in obvious need of a repaint. It has a small bit of rust forming along the sides and moss growing on the dorsal. Appearance: The ship is tan and a bit dingy, in obvious need of a repaint. It has a small bit of rust forming along the sides and moss growing on the dorsal.
  4. Darth Mavanger shook his head as the other Sith proclaimed his support for whoever proclaimed their leadership next. "Maybe one day I will know the words that will impart upon you the wisdom I have found in my own death. Free you of the idea that the Dark Side grants us freedom, chooses it's champions. But the days of Dark Lords being some... mythical selection by the Dark Side is over. Thrice they have failed us. Exodus let dissent build within the Empire, Nyrys let the empire fall, and Calypso let the Sith fade from unity. When I came to the Sith Empire, they were powerful, united behind a leader that had led them to battle time and time again. I seek to usher in this era again. I will blaze a trail through the galaxy to it's very core with a Sith Empire reborn as warriors and generals, statesmen and logisticians. We will set the seeds of an empire to surpass any that have come before." He watched the other warrior for signs of dissent, of aggression. "I would claim the mantle of Dark Lord, as is my right as the Warmaster of the Sith Empire, the Warden of Kuat, the Scourge of the Outer Rim. I will claim this title in the name of my deeds, as your general, your ally, and the man that our troops trust with their servitude. I have invited you here to give you an opportunity to draw your blade in opposition, or to kneel to me as the true master of the Sith Order, as earned through my actions, through my force of will, not deigned worthy by some supernatural presence that deems me it's avatar, but by the blood, sweat, tears, and sacrifices I have made for our people. What say you, lord Akheron."
  5. Sandy Sarna

    Salliche

    Of course he wouldn't have thought of such a thing. It was far too early. Especially since the Sith had at least temporarily departed their realm. There was so much to teach, so much to learn from and as always so little time. But this was no true emergency of sword and blaster. There were no Sith shuttlecraft shattering through the atmosphere, no contrails of a hundred bombers flying overhead, no Sith lord screaming for their revenge like a little child denied their chocolates before bed. This was an environmental emergency with little indication of Sith involvement, save her own worry. She shrugged, and laid her hand on his arm to draw him out of his deep thought. “Something to consider for the future then. I am still in the combat mindset from so many years of warfare which is not something I should be striving to inflict on you.” She unclipped the long handled lightsaber from her belt and handed it to him. It carried with it the gravitas of a generation of jedi knights. Forged by one master during the troubles of decades ago, and handed from knight to knight until it had been given to Sandy by a master now long dead. One who had turned to evil, and had been slain by the pure white blade. It told the story in its essence of the rise and fall. Of pride, vanity, and the corruption of ideals until they carried only evil. Of suicide, of death, of joy and despair. Of a love hard won then even more harshly lost. “This carried the memories of my life in its crystal. And the lives of those who previously held the blade. Though it will not teach you directly on how to build a saber. You may take this one apart to learn its mechanical workings and keep it by your side during the mission ahead. If you so desire. If you do not think yourself ready or willing to carry a blade, then do not fret. It's a choice you must make for yourself. We pay a heavy price when we carry a weapon that kills and maims as its primary purpose.” Behind them the shuttlecraft’s engines began to wind up as the droid inside made his adjustments for the trip ahead.
  6. Shapash slipped through the air, whispering on the wind as spider-silk, the darkmetal blade unlinking itself, binding to the rhythm of its master; the bitter heartbeat of the revel. It despaired the loss of the kill, but understood the need of a lesson. The hunt was a feral thing, of baser instincts, unrefined of glory. Awenydd stepped back, watching the apprentice before her within the Force. He was yet inefficient, but he could focus. The Skad-Mouse dissolved, falling back into the soured blood from which it has birthed. A pale reflection of a broken mind, painted into the physical realm itself. "You can channel emotions into power, even refine them into movement." The Sith Lord held out her pale, scarred hand, bloodied palm to the wind-swept sky. "Now, use them to hunt. Find another acolyte, it doesn't matter who they belong to. Bring them to me." Her face twisted into something of a smile. "You could use strength, but that isn't remotely interesting."
  7. Kerriwarr

    Salliche

    Her words passed him by like leaves in a stiff autumn breeze. He was taken aback. Becoming a Jedi with such swiftness was already a whirlwind of change to think of, but taking up arms and becoming a fighter like those he'd seen on Falleen? That was another matter entirely. He could barely process the escalation that had come of this incident, hardly registering his master's response to his query. A blighted field had gave way to a matter much deeper, but unfortunately, necessary, if he was to find his place among the Order. The Wookiees contemplative gaze was brought to a halt as his mind came to focus for mere moments as he spoke, all but sighing out the words as he became subsumed into his mind, "No, Master, I cannot say that I've given it any thought." And yet as he voiced his lack of thought, his mind was now ablaze, coursing with ideas and various notions, contemplating different designs and styles. What would he choose? How would he construct such a weapon? He could barely wield the Force, after all, in the way of the Jedi. How was he to complete one of their most sacred of rituals without even rudimentary knowledge of their methods? This confusion addled his mind as the Wookiee stared vacantly to the horizon, contemplating in nearly a stupor, the stress of the situation and the gravitas of Sandy's question being altogether quite thought-provoking for the newly-minted Jedi.
  8. Of course she would miss a key measure of statecraft. No doubt if her father was here he would have been glad that she had been sent to the Jedi order instead of actively attempting to embarrass the household. She had still much to learn, and half a decade in active war footing without time for galas and finery had not been kind to her court etiquette. There was no shame in not seeing battle, and she smiled warmly at Keenava. She gestured both of them to take some of the wine. Her voice was soft when it came her turn to speak again, “My apologies, noble friends for not introducing myself, I am Alcmène of the house of Moriès. And though I am not a comparison in any way to Leena, I am very happy to oversee your training should either of you wish it until she returns.” There was much to be done as jedi outside Ylesia, and as the galaxy again settled back into a cycle of peace, she had little doubt that there were still Sith waiting and biding their time. "Have either of you had much formal training at all?"
  9. “Yes, she became Grandmaster of the Order while we were fighting on Falleen. I’m not sure what happened to you there, but I am glad to see you well, Bas.” Keenava responded as she piled an ample serving of steamed veggies on her plate. “As for the feast, you’re very welcome…” Keenava stalled for a moment before realizing no one had given names, so it was impossible to direct comments at the right person. “Welp, it seems I neglected a formal bit of introduction. My name is Keenava Dira. As for what brings me here, I was following Leena. I am waiting for her to finish her business, or here to find another master as well.” Keenava finished before stuffing a fresh bit of leafy green into her mouth. She mulled her thoughts on what to add regarding ‘seeing combat.’ Technically, she saw a lot of combat, though not as much as her former Sith peers. There were also the battles she recently fought on Falleen. But in the end, Keenava figured her new friend meant to ask whether she participated in the Sith battles of recent history. That proved to be an even more complicated answer. “I didn’t see much battle, but the why of it is a bit complicated.”
  10. Tros stood upon the bridge of the Raven's Bane watching the motions of many move through out. His own eyes glanced out over the planet below. He held mixed emotions over the place, mainly due to being called by the Sith woman who took over after the battle of Nar Shaddaa, only to not address them or even acknowledge them. It was insulting, but not in a way that provoked anything within him, as it was something they were used to. He glanced over at Kot'dral, the only other Mandalorian still onboard the ship with him. Before departing their location of finding Mavanger, the others returned to the Revenant, the first of soon to be many Mandalorian battleships. The Crusader-class corvette was the first one produced, and was taking a back seat to Manda'lor's soon to be capital ship, a Keldabe-class Battleship being built over Qat Chrystac. He stood off to the side of the ship, almost brooding as he watched Akheron arrive and greet Mavanger. He knew the other Sith almost as well as he knew Mavanger. Trusted him to battle and fight the way Mavanger would. He was vested within the exchange, as he wanted to have something built up. To fulfil to the future, they would need to work together towards a common goal. He had hoped that the two would see eye to eye- but he had no idea of how politics worked within the Sith. He had seen too many leaders at this point to fully expect anything solid. Another change he hoped that Mavanger would bring. But for now, Manda'lor stood, brooding in the corner with Kot'dral until he was directly summoned or acknowledged by Mavanger. He would not risk anything that his new found ally was trying to accomplish.
  11. Akheron was busy finishing up his notes, having come across a item of interest. He felt the Darkness call out, the sign he had been waiting for. Yet it was not in the form he had expected. He felt Darth Mavanger, a familiar presence, but last he recalled he too had fallen like himself. It seemed both had been spared death for a reason where all others had not or had gone missing. A reason known only to the Fanged God and the Darkness. A reason he was soon to find out. He answered the com-link attached to his wrist. Rarely used but there for emergencies or when a Sith needed to speak to him more directly. "It is good to hear your voice Warmaster, I had heard you like me had meet your demise. I am glad to know you have returned. I shall be there shortly, we have much to discuss." With that he gathered what data he could, at least that which he had compiled into database and discs, so Darth Mavanger could scrutinise them himself. Placing them in a large bag, he placed it upon his back. The lightsaber he had borrowed, now a permanent addition at his side, slung to his right. He sent a communication to the captain, a replacement for the previous he had known. "Varno, the ship is yours. I must see the Warmaster on personal business. Keep her in order while I am away. Prepare my shuttle for departure." He answered quickly. "Yes my Lord-Captain." With that preparations were made, and the shuttle was soon ready in the hangar with a small guard to see him off. Saluting, Akheron entered alone, knowing he would hopefully not need additional assistance. At least he hoped so and trusted in the Darkness and Darth Mavanger that nothing untoward would happen. Piloting the shuttle, he contemplated events, how the Dark Lord he had helped to find and initially backed had squandered the chance she had been given. It disgusted him how she had been no better than those that came before. But such was her way. The choices she had chosen had sealed her fate and angered the Fanged God, and the Darkness who no longer favoured her. A new champion was needed. A avatar, but Akheron knew it was not him. No he would soon know who it was, the Darkness would reveal this to him as it had the sign. And so he continued, and sought permission to land in the hangar as he approached. As he landed, he waited for any that might lead him to the observation deck briefly before making his own way. Following the Darkness to Mavanger's presence. Entering, he issued a bow and a nod of respect. Despite their differences, they were much the same, survivors. Loyal to the Sith and willing to do whatever it took to see the strong rise. Their dedication to the Darkness was absolute. "Greetings Lord Mavanger. It has been a while, I am glad to see these rumours of your demise were greatly exaggerated. I suspect you know as I do now, that another Dark Lord has fallen, although I know not how or the why. Only that she has likely fallen like so many others before her and only that a new champion of Darkness is likely chosen and I as ever am to be their destroyer. A fist for the Sith to use. I also have something else to discuss, I believe I have found a way to help our cause and a proposition in that regard. Tell me Warmaster in your years of travels, did you ever hear tales about a ship by the name of The Shadow's Gambit? If so how much do you know about it?" He inquired, placing the bag beside him as he talked.
  12. Earlier
  13. Darth Mavanger gazed upon Ziost from the observation deck of the Raven's Bane, a quiet moment of contemplation in the frenzy of the planning and preparation for the battles to come. It occurred to him just how rarely he had opportunities like this- He had always sprinted from one fight to the next, seeking out his next victory, his next battle, his next enemy. Rarely had he been given the moments to contemplate why he fought. At first, it was for legacy. He wanted to make his mark on the galaxy, to create a legacy that people respected. After Dark Sun, it was to serve the Dark Lord with fanatical devotion, to be his trusted servant. After twin battles of Kuat and Corellia, his purpose had shifted. If the Dark Lord had been unwilling to grant him status after his victory, he was going to take it for himself. He surrounded himself with powerful allies and loyal warriors, and brought the rebels in the Outer Rim to their knees, only to lose the one person he valued above himself. Vengeance had consume the next years of his campaign, leading to the death of the Empress and the fall of the Sith Empire. And what was it all for? This barren world was all that the Sith held claim to. Many knew his name, but what power did his people truly wield now? He had but one ship and the battered crew that manned it. True to his hope, his sensors confirmed that Darth Akheron's ship was also in orbit. He thought he could see it in the far distance, a speck of off-colored light contrasting with the rest of the galaxy. He thumbed the Sith command comlink- it had been rarely used since the fall of the Sith Empire, but he knew Akheron would still hold one. "Darth Akheron. The Warmaster has need of your presence. Report to my ship immediately and make your way to the observation deck."
  14. The Sith Warrior nodded his agreement to the child queen’s request, turning it into a stiff bow. He stepped wordlessly from the room, focusing not on the machinations of former prostitutes, but on the preparations of war. The coming war would be a tool to wield, a card to play to get close to her. His emotions boiled darkly, emotions rising to the surface, melting the layers of ice that kept them in control. She protects this planet, these people. These Naboo. I will hunt them wherever they travel, wherever they seek refuge. Vorin’s hands started to shake as he stumbled into the armory where they had stored his armor, causing him to clench them into fists. He nudged the door closed with his booted heel and collapsed against it, sliding to the mud-tracked floor. He took a slow breath, forcing his body to not take it in gasps. I will bring their corpses to her and caste them at her feet. It will be as if killing her children. I will kill all she protects, all she shields until her dreams are drenched in blood. Another ragged breath, and his quivering hand found Bloodletter’s leather-bound pommel and the blood-stained bindings of linen. Familiarity. With the other he dragged his lamellar-plate armor from where the guards had tossed it. He forced his mind to tend to his weapons. The plating needed new strapping, some torn by blaster-fire, others by a Jedi’s blade. He traced one of the jagged gashes with a finger, forcing away murderous intentions as they rose. He concentrated instead upon memory; each mistake made in the last battle, and those before. If he did not learn, there would be no strength. Taking one of the sets of leather armor that had been recovered from one of the queen’s dead bodyguards, he began to restitch the bindings between the leather plating. Into each of them, he pressed a portion of his emotions, those dark and evil intentions that twisted the mind, until they were all but spent. Each knot seemed to singe and curl with the touch of dark magic, sealing the armor together with desired revenge. The call of Onderon would be strong, but it was only the cries of the dead, and those yet to die. Any Sith that remained on that cursed world would be easily excised. With armor repaired, the Sith Lord stripped the remains of his tunic from him, and began to dress his wounds with bacta-bandages. The burns were easily handled with a layer of kolto-salve, but the fresher blaster-wound to his thigh required several sutures to bind the tattered flesh together. That wound had been a revelation in itself, the stoic queen was quick to anger, and easily manipulated. Perhaps the temptations of power would cause her to stumble. He dressed then, placing the armor on his body piece by piece, and with it sealing away the ravings of his mind beneath a layer of churning sea-ice. Stepping then with refreshed intention, the Sith approached the child-queen, inclining his head as he approached, slamming a fist across the darkmetal breastplate. "Fires will rage once more upon the Dxun moon at your command. How shall I prepare your guard for actual war?"
  15. Mavanger

    Space

    Darth Mavanger nodded. Then all that was left was to put his forces to march once more, as he had above a dozen worlds since he joined the Sith. The only difference is that he would be facing down his former allies, the people that he had lost so much to serve. No more would he be doing the bidding of a Dark Lord who's ambitions lay in the ephemeral eradication of the Jedi and the Sovereign Alliance. No, he would put the galaxy to the torch with his own actions, and inspire his people to do the same, as he had for years. "Then we set off to find Darth Akheron. I'll ready the remainder of my forces- Nar Shaddaa likely took a toll on them, and it will do them good to hear from me once more. My next stop will be Ziost- If he is not still present there, there will hopefully be people hwo know of his location. He isn't the most subtle of our allies, after all. I suggest you do the same with your troops- ready them for what is to come, then meet us on Ziost. Once we have solidified my position, we can discuss the plans for our empires."
  16. Basi

    Ylesia

    Smiles and nods his head before looking to Keenava. He raises a brow Lekku twitching a bit before a smile revealing those sharp pointed carnivorous teeth. "Master Leena, became Grand Master of the Order? When, where? oh but it's glorious and welcomed news it is." His attention goes between the two. His thoughts cycling as he pieces things together, he taps the broken hilt upon his hip for a couple moments idly. "Than it appears I find myself without a Master for the time being." Tapping his chin he shrugs and looks around and in short order takes a seat. Alcmène's next question gets him shaking his head back and forth and shrugging a bit. "No I mean, yes, I was recalled back to my squadron for a bit, which is why I wasn't on the front lines of battle here, though I wish I'd have been able to be there. I can't say perhaps I got listed as MIA not sure what info the Republic Military shares with the order."
  17. Alcmène set the thin woven metal latticework of her shield beside her chair alongside the small satchel of her other supplies. Tucking it all beneath the seat with a quick nudge of her booted foot. Her grey eyes scanned the approaching pilot’s face, and seeing no ill intent she answered him with a wide smile. “Please join us pilot!” She raised a thin fluted glass up at him, and set another plate on the table that looked so out of place compared to its surroundings. Vaguely she hoped that not every pilot in the Alliance would trot over for some aged Cathani, but if they did, the credit chit had enough left on it to cover at least half whatever that would cost. Plus it was her families winery so they would reap a little benefit from such a feast… But her mind was wandering again. She turned her smile on Keenava. “Thank you for this wonderful feast my new found friend!” She took a healthy serving and after taking a bite she looked back at the two of them. “What brings you both here? I myself am still listed as ‘in recovery-’” Here she raised both of her shoulders in an exasperated shrug. “-due to my injuries from my last mission. So I did not see the final battle against the sith. Did either of you see combat?”
  18. Fiochmar listens oh does he ever listen. The sound of the saber the squeals of pain from the rodent. The smell of fur and flesh and sinew rending and searing brought a wicked smile to his face though oddly enough reminded him he was hungry, stomach rumbling and licking his lips, however he put that aside listening to the huntress and her words of wisdom and guidance. He focuses on those feelings, the blood lust, the thrill of the hunt. The thirst for blood and the kill. Focusing on these things, these feelings and memories in order to channel the dark side, rage and anger were useful but the huntress was right using the hunt felt so much better, stronger, easier to tap into! Closing his eyes reveling in the fear and agony of the rodent drinking in all those delicious and delightful feelings. Pushing out reaching with the force he can feel it coursing through his veins like the blood that gives him life. His athletically toned body seems to gain a bit of bulk and mass as he channels the force into his legs and arms, corded muscles twitch alive with energy. He can feel and hear his heart beat quicken and strengthen everything is feeling alive! The muscles and his heart feel almost electrified or on fire even! Fioch's eyes snap open alight with energy, eagerness and excitement. "I Feel it, I feel it so much stronger, so much better than before! It's like the hunt makes the connection stronger! Yes, yes stronger much stronger!" His nerve endings alight and electrified from the power of the darkside flowing through him he grins, snarls and leaps into the air weapons drawn angling toward the rodent!
  19. Awenydd stared at the Sithling with a steady gaze of blazing fire, watching the Force move within its veil. Rage, an unfaltering bloodlust. Yet it was ill-channeled. That did not surprise her, few beginners could channel their emotions efficiently. There was power in him, yet most of it dissipated without direction. The Skad-Mouse writhed, dancing in its fear, unable to find a way to escape the power of what held it there. Feeble cries whispered across the bloodstained moss to reverberate louder in the humid, stale wind. The Sith Huntress slipped Shapash from its scabbard, the crimson blade shimmering in the air. The Falx seemed to crawl through the air, twisting and writhing in a mimicry of its frightened prey. Within the Force, now freed from its containment, it held its own distinct, perverse presence. The bitter taste of sanguine pride and the predatory nature of a spider. She dipped the blade into the Skad-Mouse, its tip rending flesh and sinew to dig into the bones of its vertebrae. The formally feeble cries, bubbled into a panicked crescendo and paid blossomed into the Force. “Emotions power us, but power is useless without proper application.” The Sith stooped, holding the intricate handle like a leash, not letting the blade drink its fill of the mouse’s lifeblood. “Channel it all, everything. Bind that power into muscle and heartbeat, nerve twitch and breath. Into one, fatal leap.” She flicked the blade out of the prey, feline eyes sparkling with glee as she watched the mouse struggle to escape with only its top half in working order. Its hind-legs splayed uselessly, nerveless. Torture had its uses, but the creature's purpose was now to die.
  20. Tros pondered for a moment as faces and names flashed within his mind. The only ones that he wondered of loyalty in fighting were Delta, whom he had reports was now living on Concord Dawn an as exile. Terra and most of her followers went into hiding after Nar Shaddaa. So in many of his own regards, there wasn't much in forms of resistances against him as far as he was aware. He slowly shook his head towards Mavanger. "No. The Mandalorians that follow will follow me to the death. Those that don't follow are either in exile or hiding, or haven't found their way in support of Manda'lor the Zealous." Turning to look back towards were the rest of his party that now awaited him to join them or get beckoned to join were his faithful crew. His team that would light the way if he was unable to do so. He then turned back to Mavanger. "Upon more victories, it will act like a lightening rod, drawing more to the cause."
  21. Talyn listened carefully to the young emperor, Beck Pilon. He nodded his head as he listened, taking mental notes within his mind, especially about the name. He was somewhat familiar with it. Oovi IV was infamous among the intelligence circles, a so called blacksite with a dark history. This would be no easy task but he was used to such high stakes. It would be no different to any other assignment he had done before. He smiled a little as he was given carte blanche, with the full resources of the Sovereignty being put at his disposal. Good. That would make it a lot easier, especially if the facility had since been taken over. That and it would make keeping the assignment a secret much easier. With the intelligence services full weight to hide it or silence if need be any interested parties. He spoke, still kneeling. Leaning close as the emperor whispered into his ear. "It shall be done my emperor, for the safety and security of the Sovereignty. If you can, have your men send me personnel files of all those who previously worked there and the facility layout. That would be good start my emperor. I just might be able to find someone who could assist getting us inside if I can look at those records. You have my word, this assignment will remain between us, and believe I should be able to find someone we can trust. I will get on it as soon as I can. If you have no more need of me, it looks like I have alot of work to do to prepare." With that he gave another bow before moving away, allowing whoever was next to step forward. From there he set about finding safe and secure location nearby where he could view whatever information was sent.
  22. The ship/fortress finally arrived above Ziost, a strange sight for it's unusual and ancient looking design. Akheron let those below know he was coming. Within it was as if those bound to it knew what to do, as the mighty structure moved down towards the surface and to a large clearing in the ice. Close to the Black Pyramid, but far enough that enough space was allowed between them and the other structures around. Here it would remain indefinitely. It's new home. Standing vigilant for the return of those inside now lost. For on the journey another two had disappeared, Akheron wondered if the ritual had been too much, for he had not heard from Dictum or Lord Aeon since, indeed there was silence in the Darkness also. It was strange but he could not wait around as such he made his way to the exit. They could make their own way if indeed they still remained. Upon the ground, he exited the vast structure and to where others gathered, gawking at the unusual sight He ignored them and went about securing a shuttle so as to return to his own ship. One sorely missed for so long apart. For it was his home, one of the stars at least. A gift of the Brasganu long ago. He needed to return and see how things faired before seeking out the elusive Frak the Pirate, or failing that another item lay on his agenda. For he knew somewhere out in the stars was another ship he could potentially reclaim. A casino ship that had been helping fund the Sith for some time. The Shadow's Gambit. A ship he was familiar with, he need only find it and return it to the rightful hands of the Sith. But the records had been lost during the invasion over Nar Shadda, so it's location was now a mystery. He needed help to find it beyond his own resources. And so as he found a shuttle, he made his way to his ship. There he spoke to the captain briefly, being appraised of what had happened in the interim and the reported disappearance of the Dark Lord they had so briefly served, before heading to his room and study. There was much to think upon. The disappearance of the Dark Lord did not bode well for the Sith. But he knew just as one champion fell or became unworthy in the eyes of the Danger God and the Darkness. Another would rise, and he would be there to serve as their destroyer. A fist of Wrath and Rage to bring examination upon the enemies of the Sith. For now he need only wait for a sign. A dark beacon in the cosmos that would call to him when the time was right. He put his head down, searching his notes, datapads and items on the consoles in front of him. Attempting to piece together data and stories around the Shadow's Gambit and potential sightings since Nar Shadda. So far he found nothing, but he continued none the less.
  23. Fiochmar takes a breath and listens intently to the Huntress as she speaks. Knowing that yes his kill of the Terentatek was an achievement, but not the biggest game, no not the way it would be to one not gifted with the force. The Tsis trails fingers through his own blood, perhaps if he followed her footsteps, her path, the things she did, he might get a deeper understanding of what the Sith spoke of, so he raises his fingers to his lips and licks the blood clean from his fingers, noting rhe metallic taste, savoring it. "Yes Master as you say." Fioch looks deep within, channels the feelings, the rush, the thrill of the hunt. Connecting to it on a deeper level than ever before. It's as if the scents, and sounds of the forest became sharper, more clear, more distinct. His sight seemed to sharpen as well but that was not his focus now, no he had a task to complete. Than there it was, that heartbeat, small, frail, weak, petrified and panicked. Oh yes this excited Fioch to his basest level, the must primal and feral of instincts in him. The young Tsis licks his lips, feeling the blood lust rise in him, stronger and stronger with each passing second, as he revels in the panic, terror and sheer hopelessness. His fingers twitch near his blades and with sheer strength of will he resists using them. "I FEEL IT SO STRONG, SO POWERFUL, SOO...INVIGORATING, YES...YES!"
  24. Sandy Sarna

    Salliche

    It was hard not to jump to conclusions with such an event as a monocultural blight. True the crops had gone untended for nearly half a decade, but if such a blight was to appear it would have done so then. Not now. Not when the Jedi were finally back, and the Sith defeated. A trap? A long dormant dead man's switch waiting for the time when the galaxy would be left hungriest? It made sense from the puzzle pieces she herself knew. The Sith had disappeared mysteriously, leaving a vast majority of planets unfought for and stripped of resources. Their armies and navy mysteriously vanishing as well. With the majority of their Sith lords unaccounted for. Even that red faced Sith she had briefly encountered but not fought at the Jedi outpost on Felucia. What was it that she said? That they would keep the blade of the Sith sharp until such a time that they could use it? Something along those lines. A sith lord that she had not seen again. Another one lost to history, lurking, waiting for her time to break the galaxy again into brutal war. And there was no better way to do it than to keep the Sovereign Alliance hungry and weak as they bode their time. Or perhaps that was her own paranoia, her yearning to find someone to cross blades with. It was easier afterall to dream of someone to kill then to go through the effort of fighting a pathogen that could have already blown to half the world by now. “My friend. First we must investigate and get there in person. I will reach out to the Alliance to get pathogen experts here but it could be some time until they arrive. In the possibility that it could be something more direct and Dark, we should prepare you for what might come to pass.” She looked at the Wookiee who towered over her. “Have you ever thought of constructing a lightsaber?”
  25. "Alright, I’ll be right back," Keenava said with a happy sigh. Keenava rolled from a seated position into a handstand and pushed herself to her feet. She stretched her core a moment and took a few deep breaths before heading into the Bloated Tortur. Thankfully, Malin cleared the freighter out because Keenava remembered the state of things when Malin was at the con. And, to be frank, he wasn’t the cleanest individual. Keenava bounced against the metal of the ship’s hull on the balls of her callused feet to the kitchen at the center of the starship. She remembered when this place was buzzing with the pitter-patter of various feet and sighed a little to herself at the recollection. She would miss that. But maybe she would have her own crew someday. She wasn’t sure. Her future was a vast unknown. Much like space, it was terrifying and exciting all at the same time. While shuffling through the cabinets to find the rations, she found a secret hollow-backed compartment in the pantry that hid some vegetables. She looked over the vegetables with a careful eye and a cursory sniff or two. Then, with a soft smile, the Twi’lek quickly prepped and steamed her bounty and got to work arranging the rations for their impromptu picnic. When she was done, she had a big dish piled with rations and steamed vegetables with a handful of plates and silverware. She accidentally made a little too much, so she figured she would provide additional plates or flatware in case anyone else was hungry. She didn’t mind sharing, she was going to stock up before going anywhere anyway. _____ Keenava came out into the open air of the improvised landing area, gracefully balancing the plates and flatware with her shoulders and arms. She was busy setting her food and dishes up when Basi came up to their spot. “You’re not interrupting anything private. Feel free to grab a chair or seat and grab some food if you’d like. As for Grandmaster Leena, she is handling some private matters and she may be a while.” Keenava piled a plate with veggies and rations, grabbed a glass of the fancy beverages provided by her new friend, and went to sit over at the table that was set up while she was rummaging in her ship. She settled down and swung her feet back and forth over the warm asphalt beneath them. Sure, it looked a little odd to be having a picnic on a landing pad, but she’d seen much weirder.
  26. Mavanger

    Space

    "Then the pact is struck. May neither of us break it, for the fate of both our peoples rely on our loyalty." He let the reality of his new position set in for a moment. He hadn't always seen eye to eye with Dark Lords in the past, from his disagreement with Nyrys's plan to open defiance against Exodus after Kuat, but he had never proclaimed himself one. At best, he was stepping up to lead a Sith Order that was rapidly spiraling into nothing. At worst, he was declaring open rebellion against the reigning Dark Lord. But it couldn't be helped- The Sith needed strong leadership, and they needed it now. If Calypso had gone missing as her compatriots before her, then he would take up the mantle, and he wouldn't relinquish it until he was dead, either at the hands of a Sith looking to take it for themselves, or the Sovereignty and the Jedi looking to quash the head of the Sith. "If we are to do this, we need a plan. You said the Sith are scattered- I may still have allies among them. I fell in defense of Darth Akheron's world, he would be a good starting point. Are there any of your people we should visit to solidify this alliance, and to solidify your hold on your people? I know the Mandalorians are no strangers to marching to war, but we may very well be asking them to march against former allies. Will that be problematic?"
  27. Tros kept his own thoughts to himself at the inquire of Darth Calypso's whereabouts. He didn't know her personally, and she made zero effort to connect with the Mandalorians upon her taking the throne. While she made a huge display of power before the Sith gathered, she had not been seen since then. Or at least stayed well hidden from his own scouts and informants. For all he knew she could have been killed off by someone who was too afraid of the consequences of their actions and disappeared. The only thing he knew for certain, she had not been seen in a long while, and the Sith have fallen off the radar. As an ally, at least one had always assumed he was for the past 2 before Calypso, he would have assumed there would have been more contact to the major plan. Not just hiding away. The words utter by Mavanger next after he was silent upon the gap left in his absence took him a bit by surprise. He was flat out offered up the chance to be allies of a different sort. To be their own people, but to almost extend the kinship of vod from Mandalorian to Sith. The return favor seemed simple. Almost too simple. He wondered what sort of catch there would be to fully lock in such a strong alliance. Granted, neither side was all that strong currently. Scattered and divided on both ends. But upon merging and rebuilding, the two allies could become a deadly force upon the galaxy. If he turned down such an offer, he would be a fool, even if there was a catch to it all. "You have my word, House Solus and all Mandalorians who follow it's banner will aid you in this and be a trusted forearm to carry out this purpose. Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it." Tros knew that Mavanger may not know the exact words spoken at the end, but he knew that the warrior was smart enough to realize it was something important, and it was important for Manda'lor to seal the pact with the honorary words. Truth, honor and Vision were all things that seemed to be clearly laid out between the two.
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