Darth Furion

The order had been placed weeks ago, but with the exchanging of funds, time to put the order together, and deliver, only now was it arriving. An acolyte had been charged with traveling to the distributors, managing the funds, examining the equipment and ensuring its timely arrival. He acted as a representative of a fake corporation with only enough digital credentials to avoid second glances, and the money would come from a dummy account. No one should be able to trace the transaction, or make any connections as to its intent. As instructed, the young man escorted the equipment to the base of a mountain further down the range. Once the other party had left them, more acolytes would pour from nowhere to complete the journey. It took an additional two days for them to get the mining gear the rest of the way by their single transport, but none would be the wiser. "Master, everything you have requested is here. We are ready for your next instructions."

"Are they ready?" "That remains to be seen." "Do you think the Master's apprentices will be able to stand against them? We've spent so long raising them, teaching them. Surely they have become the living shadows He requested." "That is not for us to judge, Six. We could only do what we were instructed to the best of our abilities. There is no use questioning the work after the fact. Either you have done your utmost, or you haven't." "Of course. Forget my feeble weakness." The two cloaked men stood on a balcony overlooking a sea of black. From this height the waves appeared to be composed of ants swaying and crashing against one another, but the Sith Acolytes knew them for their true nature. This was their creation, the Living Shadows of the Seven. A century for each of the Seven stood in the opening of the forest below drilling through daily training like it was their religion. Seven hundred men and women trained for no other purpose than to teach and test the Master's chosen few. Most of them would die, but there was no doubt that these Living Shadows would take life if their opponent was not careful. "I think he will be pleased. They were trained in his own methods." "But not by Him." "Of course, you are right, One. I cannot separate myself from the pride I feel for my work." "Your work is nothing. These creatures are nothing. They will all fall before the might of our Master's work. But not without a fight."

Julio was silent as he was lead through the ancient temple. Long had this been the destination at the end of the journey of training for many young Jedi. Long had it stood as the threshold one must cross to enter fully into the folds of the galaxy, embracing a life of thankless servitude and greater wisdom. Unlike most Sith, Julio understood the certain appeal this path held for many individuals potent enough in the Force to hear its whispers. One often forgets that it isn't any one particular event that makes men what they turn out to be, but a long series of events that collapse upon one another like a long row of dominoes. Knock the wrong one over and things can take a turn for the worse. So many influences, so many critical points that make up a destiny it is no wonder how the galaxy could be filled with so many unique individuals. Perhaps, had things been different, he could have been one of these Jedi, self designated to play the part of the martyr. But it was too late for him. Far too many of the wrong dominoes had been tipped in his time for that to ever happen now. Passing through the hallways he remembered the last time he had visited the temple. There he cut down a young man trying to slow his advance, knowing the precious cargo that lay just down the way. And here three more fell to his ambition, more desperate the further he got to the room the children. He remembered how he relished what they saw in his eyes, in his every stride and strike. No mercy, no compassion. Only forward, ever forward. As he passed by the room that previously had been the final stronghold for those that needed protecting the most, the room that now held the great and terrible wound still after nearly a decade, the beast in the Dark Lord's heart had to be suppressed to keep the howls from reaching the Jedi, but even still he couldn't help but smile for the briefest of moments. When the two of them finally found their way to the office the present Knight in charge took residence in, Julio stopped to give a formal bow and make introduction. Master Rengar. It is a pleasure. I will not dally and get promptly to the matter at hand. In our mission on the outer rim we have, on rare occasion, come across Sith. Now while I have made my reports to the council on the matter, there is one thing I felt I should look into myself since we are here. Traditionally Sith forge their own crystals for their lightsabers, but upon inspection the crystals upon them were not forged, but Adegan originating from this very planet. Are you aware of any other operations on the planet to harvest the crystals?

I see. She seemed to trail off, head sinking low as questions started trickling in. Of course he was involved. Their fates were inexorably twisted together, and would be until one of them was dead. With a heavy shudder she relinquished the eyes of her father before the whispers started to skitter through her mind, and looked back at Raynuk. Thank you for your time, Master Montar. You have been most helpful. Strewn with formality, the dark princess came to her feet and headed back toward the dojo. Yet, a few paces from Raynuk she stopped. I don't think... She started, talking over her shoulder, but paused to consider her words. I know now that I can never truly be free while my Father yet lives.

He was just about to take the datapad when Lallu spoke up. With some effort she seemed to recall the ident codes and designation for a ship, the one thing that would have held them up in their incursion. It was perfect, exactly what he needed. When the plan seemed to hit a bump, the universe, or more specifically this young Twi'lek delivered a gift. Julio turned to catch Lallu's eye and smiled wryly. That's my girl. My padawan never ceases to amaze me. Always with the most seemingly random usefulness. He took the datapad from the Jedi and handed it to Lallu, pressing on through the temple without pause. If you would show Mandela and Jadero to their quarters, my padawan and I would like a word with the Master residing over this temple.

Silently she cursed, knowing the answer before it was spoken. Of course they were gold, what else could they have ever been? Where her fate went, so too did that of Julio's. The two were interconnected, and had been possibly forever. Acis par tēva. Reverent whispers of the old word fell from her lips as she bowed her head and closed her eyes. When she looked up back at Raynuk, the languid pools of blue had fallen away to the seething gold of her Father's eyes. Like this?

Pensively she held quiet while he talked, watching him as he tried to remember. It would seem that talking it out clarified some things, as the vocalization brought forth more revelation apparent in his recollection for just a second. It was an oddity that the images were still. Vision tended to have some fluidity to it, whether very slow, or sometimes even backwards to the seer's perspective, or any number of counter logical manifestations. Still frames in time, however, seemed so out of place. And then another hesitation. Not out of recollection, but of consideration. He wasn't simply trying to relay what he saw, he was considering it and telling her how he wanted her to hear it. Whatever it was, there was some detail missing or obscured. No matter. There was really only one question after everything he mentioned. One small piece of the puzzle missing. Interesting... She held off from making any assumptions just yet. It all depended on what Raynuk answered next. What color were the eyes?

Eyes narrowed in doubt and suspicion, but as the moment had passed and Rose yet remained alive, there wasn't much further use in being angry at Raynuk. After all, it wouldn't go anywhere other than perhaps a smack upside the head as she was put back in her lowly place. None the less, there was something about the incident, how Raynuk claimed to have a vision yet claimed to obtain no real details about it. Rose knew a great deal about visions, though had never witnessed one herself. Picking Julio up off the floor countless times as he mumbled vague details in a lost and powerful language. Tell me what you recall. She said cautiously. It was his body language she watched closely, his physical reaction to the act of reliving the vision in his mind as best he could. The details themselves were often of little consequence in their exactitude, but rather what they meant to the one seeing them, and how they felt about it.

The moment he poked her she felt it again. Sinking. Down into the black morass of cold terror. There was no sense of self here. No past, no future. Only the eternal present that was as vexing as it was unstable. Her heart didn't beat. Her lungs wouldn't expand to draw in the air that wasn't there. Either her eyes didn't work or there was simply nothing to see. Fear, this place was named, and in it Rose was part of the nothing, was nothing. Her mouth held wide like she wanted to scream, to let it out, to find some escape. But again, nothing. Her body wouldn't even feel, yet didn't carry the traditional numb sensation that came from the lack of it. Please, oh god please let me out. I'll do anything, just get me out of here. She came to screaming, somehow scrabbled a few paces away from Raynuk without meeting the cliff's edge. Through ragged breaths the screaming subsided as soon as the world came back into focus, but the fading sensation was etched deep in her memory. What did you do?!

For the moment her eyes stared blankly down into the churning molten rivers beneath them. So Raynuk, too, felt the disturbance with her connection with the Force. When she heard 'Dark Lord', however, she returned to him. It has never been about the destruction of the Jedi for him. To be frank he doesn't give a damn about them. If he wanted, he could operate far under their radar and they'd be none the wiser. She thought for a moment trying to recall Julio's particular phrasing. It is about the struggle, he says. Without bringing the fight to the Jedi, he believes the Order would atrophy, and turn on itself for self discovery. The point of fighting isn't for the killing itself, but the chance to test one's self above and beyond their limitations. She didn't want to break any state secrets, but at the same time Raynuk would be one of the highest ranking Sith among the Order. Surely he would be privy to this much. His intention is to infuriate the Jedi. Constantly harassing them while staying just out of their reach. He wants them to rebuild against him so that he could test himself in bigger and more difficult ways. And then it clicked, all despair and confusion shedding away like an exasperation of relief. Of course her father had obstructed her connection with the Force, made it nearly impossible for her break through. But it was all another struggle, insurmountable odds to overcome and rise through the ashes all the more victorious. Whereas connection with the Force often came with a simple application of time and diligence for most sensitive to it, she would have traverse hellish depths to reach the same plateaus as others. It would either kill her, or make her stronger than the rest. Always chasing death, my Father. She turned to Raynuk, once again shining with that brightness he had seen not long ago.

It does not elude me. It haunts me. The answer came without hesitation, but carried in it a shiver down her spine. If what Raynuk said was true and the Force differed from person to person, was the terror and unending falling sensation the Force's way of speaking to her? At first she had thought that it was something her Father had done to her, for whatever great and mysterious reasons he had, but what if it were simply her? In the end, it didn't change the fact that if Rose wanted to continue to live a free life it would be something she would have to fight against, but the enigma grew larger just the same. I can feel it, see it, hear it. I am aware of the greatness that is the darkness. But it does not permit me to touch it, or rather something does not. Every time I try it feels like it is trying to swallow me whole, take over everything that is me and become something...else. As I am now, I do not believe that I am strong enough to fight against it. Either I stand aside and let it pass through me like the rest of the galaxy, or let it devour me and attach the marionette strings where it will.

Try it and you will know suffering beyond anything you have ever experienced. Rose said just above a whisper, distant as if she were remembering something traumatic that she had struggled to push down. She didn't sound angry at Raynuk's threat of delving into her mind. In fact her tone held an edge of caution, an icy cold fear of what the intrusion would mean. She wasn't sure of the tricks Julio had pulled on her mind, nor the extent to which they went, but she knew full well that he had never let his daughter out of his sight, knowing the gravity of the secrets she held, without defending her to such assaults in some manner. When she finally turned to look up at the Sith Master it was with a curious look. How strong was Raynuk in comparison to her father? Even in his most wrathful moments, Rose was sure she had never really felt the full depth of her father's passion, but even still it had never compared to any other Sith she had come into contact with since they had fully come back into the order. But Raynuk was close. Very, very close. Yet in another, awe inspiring and terrifying way. Yes, I do have questions. And it would seem you have the inclination to answer them, so I'll not waste your time. She patted the ground beside her, offering him a seat by the cliff side to see the great expanse of fiery lakes and monumental factories spanning across the planet below. All I have ever known about the Dark Side is what my Father has told me. But the way he speaks of it, with such passion and drive, it often sounds too much like a mystery to really ever relate. Freedom is chaos, fate is slavery, it all seems so subjective its impossible to quantify. How does it speak to you? What does the darkness whisper?

She could feel eyes upon her, the conscious awareness devoted to drawing in the miasma of anguish she exuded unabashedly. Any other time it could be expected of her to dry her eyes, assume the air of confidence and complacency, and pretend that all was right with the world but really she just didn't give a damn. That's right, look on, see what I feel in your world apart, and move on with it as if it didn't touch you. And why should it? Why should anyone else here care. Aside from Aryian, who largely seemed to be concerned with simply playing his role, the others were Sith tried and true. And as Sith, their lives fell mostly to themselves and where they were going, not toward those they passed by. When she could tell that it was Raynuk from a few paces out, she soldiered up only so as not to look so desperately pitiful. For some reason she didn't want to look so weak in front of him. Maybe it was out of respect of his old title, or fear. Either way, she avoided turning toward him just to hide her puffy eyes. Quite the contrary. I find the fire soothing. Reminds me of father.

The ship is merely on loan, but if you really feel it is necessary I would really like to do it later if you do not mind. I lack the information required to fill out the form, and would much rather head inside out of this cold than walk all the way back to the ship. He pulled his coat around him tighter as a gust of wind cut across them all. Over a year in steaming jungles has left my tolerance for the cold rather lacking and my battered joints ache something fierce.

Fine. She said dismissively. There was no doubt this grey master had been through a great deal in his lifetime, more than just about anyone alive, dead, or yet to be. But for some reason Rose couldn't accept that he, nor anyone for that matter could really understand her 'demons' as he put it. On the other hand she couldn't refute his logic. Fighting was the only real option, to continue the struggle whether it killed her or not. Jumping would just be the easy way out, the coward's way. As terrifying as the prospect sounded, traversing that bottomless depth of primal despair and agony was the only way. Leave me to my choice, then. You selfish bastard. When the next sun rises we'll know one way or the other. The day began to wane on the distant horizon, and it was all Rose could do to sink to the ground, just a step away from the edge, and wait.