Menthu

MENTHU'S CHARACTER SHEET Identity [!ident] Real Name:Procs A.K.A:Darth Raset, Menthu Species:Human Physical Description [!dscrp] Age:22 Height:6'2 Weight:220 Hair:Black Eyes: Brown Sex:Male Equipment [!equip] Clothing or Armor:Wears all-terrain gear: black boots, red pants, and a black spider-silk shirt. Over that, he wears an elaborate vest, woven over cortosis. He also features a lengthy cape, also lined with cortosis. Weapon:Todgeist: A long, light-saber resistant sword, warm to the touch, that glows white hot when wielded. Imbued with a barab ore ingot, the sword can store and discharge Force energy. It lets him enjoy both the visceral feel of flesh being rendered, as well as flesh being set aflame. It is perhaps the only sword he has every enjoyed using. He keeps it on his hip, ready to be drawn at a notice. Roatso: This weapon resembles a Wookiee bowcaster, but is modified for greater accessibility. It shoots fragmenting fire bolts, fuled by a barab ore ingot. It is nicknamed reach out and touch some one. This his his weapon of choice. He wears it with a strap and keeps it on his back, not so much concerned with a quick draw, yet it is easily accesable and can be moved around for quick draw acess if need be. Flame gauntlets: These gauntlets feature foot-long, extendable claws that can ignite and remain ablaze. Death daggers: With the press of a button on the hilt, the blade can fire from the hilt. Common Inventory (Always carries): Ship, Credits, the Force. He owns the following but does not carry them with him unless noted. Floating Inventory (Sometimes carries): Flamewhip, Flamethrower Faction Information [!factn] Force User Alignment:Evil Current Faction Affiliation:Sith/Serpent (Defunct Faction) Current Faction Rank:Undetermined History: [!hstry] Force Side:Dark Trained by:Xentar Kentam Trained who:N/A Known Skills:Proficient in melee engagement, with a concentration in hand to hand combat. Perfers distance weapons. Force Powers: Menthu has some power over the element of fire. This is his emphasis. Background: This man has a very strange life, to begin with he is something close to royalty. on his backwardish homeplanet he had been next in line to rule, however thanks to war and strife, he had been force to leave his planet at the age of 14 to cultivated the powers he seemed to display. He was an accomplished warrior at age 11, one of those kids who are taught to fight, fight, and fight some more. Then again at the same time, despite the backward nature of his planet, it hadn't always been that way, so he became quite learnt receiving what would be considered a some what advanced education before having to leave the planet. After leaving the planet, he dabbled a bit in different sciences, but in the end, forced himself into being a for hire merc. He gained intimate knowledge in quite a few ranged weapons, and began to develop and actually love for combat, instead of the very violent game he once thought it to be. After a time, he sought out the Sith, only to be attacked by Stormtroopers during a hostile take over, on his second return to the Sith he came across the serpents and watched as quite a few of them got killed on cardia before his eyes. Falling in love with the power displayed, he sought out the Sith, and found his way into battling and apprentice in this silly matter of a blaster versus the man's vibro sword. However, at the accumulation of the battle, not only was the battle truly a draw, but upon waking up from the infirmary, he felt into a lapse of memories from his childhood. During this time he was captured by Trowa Barton. After some brief introductions he was sent upon a task, that ended up with him about to blast a sith apprentice that had been captured with him. However the man's mastered showed up at that time, and in his hostile nature, he attacked the Sith lord and forced the lightsaber into the underbrush around the area. After Trowa came out to chase the Sith Lord and his apprentice away from his mansion, He inflicted upon Procs the unnatural pain of the mark of Nurgle. Shortly after, Procs recovered the Sith Lord's lightsaber. A few commands from Trowa later, as well as a battle at the jedt temple Procs found himself on a hunt along with the being known as Yue. the hunt was truly meant for failure, As Trowa had set it up for two beings to Help in the hunt, and only one came, the other was called back by Trowa, forcing Procs and Yue to automatically fail. Forced to go against a Kyrat Dragon, He and yue managed to kill it, only to be interrupted by a bounty hunter that Procs promptly shot through the chest. Leaving that man for dead, Procs found himself rather annoyed after defeating two kyrat dragons and bringing back the eggs, to find out that he had still fail his task, which had been to bring the eggs to Trowa. Enraged he set out to kill the traitor who had forced the team to fail, but was sabotaged by Trowa, rather easily one might add. Failing in this regard too, Procs resigned himself to his fate, which was Trowa dropping him off at the jedi temple and charged him as a criminal. Strangely enough it was Yue's other half that put him in the cell, upon which after some speech he found a way to escape from and make his way to the last call. There he was able to receive help from the same Sith apprentice he had fought to a draw last time he had saw him ((Draken)) And he escaped the Jedi's clutches despite begin followed. Once away from Coruscant, he returned to cardia again, having only really learned the basics of force powers, and how to access the force, but was in all honesty far past ready to become a lord. Though through his own mentally blocks, sought out yet another master instead of attempting to become a lord. This master favored another apprentice in the end, and so left him far behind when it came to training. So almost stranding him on Byss, he used a ratty old shuttle he had jacked from an old man in order to leave the world and make his way in the galaxy, returning once again back into a simple merc, only now with a few super human powers under his belt. Reborn saga: After a hazardous mission for the link he found himself driven into some what of a depression. Traveling to tatooine he felt as if some unknown person was calling to him. Beginning his search he was there when the world had one of its sun go super nova. The sheer power of this atrocity drove him to a strange level of connection with the force. Which began the process of his rebirth. Having fallen down into the dark abyss which was himself, he tore apart from his former being and found his way to the last remaining members of the old serpent order. Upon landing on world, he was immediately confronted by the two remaining member, and narrowly avoided a violent confrontation with both men, instead opting to seek to understand what it was inside of him that had changed. His learning came quickly, as he learned how to operate with the force and with out the force. Emphasizing his close combat skills as well as his phenomenal ranged weapon abilities. Everything came to head during his trial, where standing in a pool of water, the pool was set aflame by the power of the darkside. It was this time he saw his reflection with it he embraced that which he was, and quelled the raging inferno around him gaining an immunity to fire and the ability to call upon it at will. Living through that fundamental elemental change, he became one with not only the force but with the nature of fire itself and so unleashed a new persona. Lorded as Darth Raset, he began to go by the name of Menthu to further emphasis his fundamental shift in mindset. As a reborn person, he began to look at the Serpent order in a new light. As it grew stagnant and afraid to venture out into the galaxy, he took his leave of it and spent a good deal of time away from the order, traveling to musatfar to further his own abilities by having in abundance of fire all around him. As if a wildfire set upon the land his speed at unlocking new potential from the force was incredible. With a set determination, he returned to the serpent order after a four month leave of absence. In that time, they had not moved from their spot, only older members thought to be long dead had returned. In his fury over this revelation, he gave them an ultimatum to force them to travel to the new age. Failing to rise to the challenge the leader of the serpent order fled from the scene leaving his members to their fate. With an unmatched fury and control of the dark side, he destroyed each member individually before setting their entire complex ablaze. Destroying all that remained of the new serpent order he set out to create and enforce both chaos and order. Ship Registration [!ship] Name:TBD Class:Light freighter Model:YV-929 armed freighter Manufacturer: Corellian Engineering Corporation Length: 22 meters Armaments: * Dual laser cannons (2) * Dual ion cannon turret (1) * Triple blasters (2) * Concussion missile launchers (8; 4 forward-firing, 4 aft-firing) o 5 missiles each Armor: standard Anti-Personnel Defenses:standard Appearance: Modifications:none

Things burned.... there was fire here. An upheaval of sorts that drew this demi-god like a month to flame. Yet there was a part he was suppose to play. He had to take down that which he was. It would be difficult, yet he was suppose to be a mandalorian. So that is what he would be. He cautiously let the mercenary side speak out. It normally fought for dominance and today for once it would get what it wished. Menthu stepped aside and in his place Procs leaped forth, happy to have a firm grasp of direction and the life of the body. He smiled, even though he was clad in head to toe with armor. The smile was lost shortly after, as he knew not when the God would come back. Though he was the God so it was strange. Technically the God never left. It mattered not for him, at the moment he was in control. Still the God had brought him here for a reason, and he knew what it was. On some level the God wished to relish in watching things burn. It was something he would allow, if it meant longer periods of being fully in charge. He took charge of the air space, and landed on the planet's surface close to where the trees had fallen. That would be where he began. Hefting his own bowcaster look-alike, he stepped out onto the alien world.

Tracyn Verd, it was his name and so far not many had asked for it. Though he had arrived a seemingly lost, dazed, and confused visitor, the people had accepted him as he was. As such he had been drafted into the rebuilding process of their homes from the moment he arrived, though he still had no home of his own. This, did not bother him much, as he was accustomed to living like a nomad. Still after a time where it seemed he was no threat to them, a local family did offer their home to him. For the first week, things were rough, he was picking up more of the language. Far more than what he had already learned. It helped to be in an all immerse environment. By week two, he had gotten 'taught' in the mandalorian ways. The code they followed as well as how they operated. Week three is when he learned what Fett was to these people. That he was their ultimate leader. Their mandalore as they called him. It would make things far more interesting for him, when at last they did indeed meet. Still as time progress, he worked with the mandalorians, on occasion ate with the mandalorians, and even took lessons from a five year old. To him it was all simply part of working toward the goal.

Red lights flashed in the cockpit he found far too cramped for the armor. Sweat broke out on the brow of the man wrestling the controls as he entered orbit around Mandalore. Calm though he was, he found the armor a bit stiffing every time he went to fly the small little starfighter. Perhaps I will get the ship renovated to account for this armor. Still his trip to the surface was more uneventful than anything, only the turbulance of a passing storm, causing the rather large man to juke his ship wildly to compenstate. He still did not have a feel for this particular craft, and it was only recently given to him. Boots on the ground however, a whole different story played out. A powerfully built warrior dur in his heels as light gleamed from his armor. Swift yet graceful movements are what defined him, as he made his way into town. He was for any and all purposes a broke, clanless, mandalorian. There was no place for him here currently but he would have to make a place for himself if he wished to see his dream come true. He looked around the city and smirked. So this is Keldabe

Tracyn Verd'S CHARACTER SHEET Identity [!ident] Real Name:Tracyn Verd A.K.A:Menthu Homeworld:mandalore Species:human Physical Description [!dscrp] Age:22 Height:6'2 Weight:220 Hair:black Eyes: green Sex:male Other: Has horrible disfigurement of the face. As if caught in a bad blast. Still his eyes and ears still work just fine. Equipment [!equip] Clothing or Armor: His beskar'gam looks like: A power armor liner. This liner shirt had a micro energy field projector and two layers of thin ceramic plates, in order to disperse physical and blast impacts, reducing injuries and likelihood of knockdowns. The power liner also gave him increased protection from fire, acid, intense heat, and cold. helmet: Displays tactical data (distances/ locations of targets) Can system link between other suit bearers through the use of an internal communications antennae Has specialized internal sensors in the suit that could detect the make, model, and accuracy of every weapon that he uses thus changing the shape and size of the target reticule for each weapon. All of these features were viewed through the visor. enhanced vision in the form of a electro binocular visor and night vision mode filtration devices at the side of the mask which would extract oxygen from toxic environments. Weapon: Todgeist: A long straight sword, that is warm to the touch and grows white hot when wielded. It can withstand lightsaber blows, and can cleave through things almost as fast. The strength of this sword is remarkable in that it almost unbreakable. The barab ore ingot is a crystal used to make the weapon function. Through that crystal's use, a user can energy, be it heat energy or dark side energy. In the true condition of a Sith they can harness that energy and use it in destructive ways. The crystal allows them to use the energy stored to create a powerful discharge of both fire and the force. It lets him enjoy both the visceral feel of flesh being rendered, as well as flesh being set aflame. It is perhaps the only sword he has every enjoyed using. He keeps it on his hip, ready to be drawn at a notice. The Featherweight FWG5 with explosive rounds The Featherweight FWG5 with armor piercing rounds Two wrist mounted ZX_miniature_flame_projectors. one for each wrist Common Inventory:comm, credits, ammo, rations Faction Information [!factn] Force User Alignment:Evil Current Faction Affiliation:Mandalorian/serpent Current Faction Rank:Master serpent History: [!hstry] Force Side:Dark Trained by:Xentar Kentam Trained who: Known Skills:If it is explosive he can handle it. Also hand to hand and melee combat expert. Background: An unknown entity, never seen with out his helmet. His is simply the black and gold mando. Some claim he is not even alive, just an automation, or a haunted suit of armor. Ship Registration [!ship] Name: Class: starfighter Model:CF9 Crossfire starfighter Manufacturer: Incom Corporation Length: Armaments:# Laser cannons (4) # Proton torpedo launcher * 6 Proton torpedoe Armor: Anti-Personnel Defenses: Appearance: Modifications:

The black and gold mando was all anyone knew him by as he made his rounds on this rotten sticking carcass that claimed to be a world. What glimpses of him were made all amounted to the same description as he took time visiting areas that he had no business in. It helped his appearance factor in that he took a few odd jobs to cover up the fact he actually had no credits to spare. In order to get the first FWG-5 flechette pistol with armor piercing rounds he must have killed five debtors for the merchant. His second pistol came when he was used in part of a hostile take over of sorts. Then as a gift he was given a second FWG-5 flechette pistol loaded with explosive rounds. Happy with his weapon choices so far he was able to barter for both ZX_miniature_flame_projectors by filling a few victims lungs with fire as a test drive of sorts. As in he got to test them and some people had some competition removed for them. Having made sure his comings and goings were quite public. He only briefly miscalculated the level of retaliation that would mount against him in his quest for the weapons. Naturally each attack left the attackers in the same way. With their lungs turned to ash and their bodies charred to the bone. Having accomplished his goal here, he was time to begin that which he had set out to do.

He arrived a God of what caused their destruction. Their once glorious city had been burnt to ashes, and they had continued to live on. It was life in its most basic form, and it was the perfect place for him to begin his journey. In order for him to kill his enemy and destroy all he held dear, he first has to understand the enemy. To do so would take time and patience. Yet these were things he had. Landing on the surface he was immediately greeted with a hostile response. A legitimate reaction, and one that sparked pity instead of rage inside of the Fire God. Menthu simply defused the situation by stating his intention. "You, people, who have been destroyed by the mandalorians. Call me your champion. For I come to you for help. As they have wronged you they have wronged me as well, and I intend to punish them for their doings." After that it was simple. The survivors were eager to teach him what he wished and supply him with what he needed. After all he had a plan. A plan that was unlike most of his plans, as he generally went about setting things on fire. Yet there were things about Fett that would throw such a plan to the the pits of hell. For starters Fett seemed to know him on a personal level. Having engaged Fett in a hostile manner, Fett would no doubt be on his guard should he approach. Expecting a well deserved vengeance of chocking on flames. So his plan was different, and far more thought out. Here was a battle between people and mandalorians. Here is where mandalorian blood had spilled. Here is where he could learn to be a mandalorian from the enemies who had fought them the most. Gain the armor they kept as trophies and reminders, learn to speak the language enough to get by. After all in war, if one did not understand their enemy they were doomed to destruction. These people understood their mutual enemy. So they taught him, and instructed him in what they knew of the mandalorian ways. Days turned into weeks, as he was taught mannerism that had been observed, language that had been spoken, and the mentality of the armored warriors. He learned of the history between mandalorians and Onderon, as well as of their history with Duxn. At last when they people felt he was ready, they clothed him to look like their enemy. Black and gold were the colors chosen by him. Fitting for what he was setting out to do. Two wished to join him. Equally bent on achieving justice as well as vengeance. Yet he knew they would only get in his way. The donning of the armor became a ceremony among the survivors. Each one happy to assist him in placing it upon his body. Yet when it came time for the helmet, he paused them. Fett was crafty, and would no doubt attempt to see his face. He asked for a surgeon to appear and soon one was brought forth. Then in a gory display of unwavering devotion to his anger he did what some would consider unthinkable. At first the sight alone was enough to make a few lose it. Their eyes averted from the process, yet it wasn't enough. The smell of burning flesh soon came to their nostrils, and those of weaker stomachs displayed the contents therein. Yet with in iron will he disfigured himself enough to resemble being caught in a blast. His silence in the matter was troubling but, it allowed him to never forget the pain. At last when this terrible deed was through he weakly pointed to the surgeon and orders his demands. He would in no way resemble that what he was. Carried away on a stretcher the doctor did the deeds requested of him. Not even his eye color was the same when the doctor was through. With his self designated rite of passage completed, he soon departed the world for two purposes. Gifted with a far superior ship, he left most of his personal effects amongst the people who now hailed him as their champion. Then without many good-byes he streaked off one step closer to his goal.

Menthu had been here before and remembered it well. He knew the dangers of such a place. He paused rechecking his suit before he suddenly popped the hatch. The intense amount of radiation would over whelm any being that had the foolish desire to step out onto the surface. Yet he had come prepared. Fully understanding the conditions that he would be subject too. Barab I was a hostile world, not just for its population, but for its environment. As it was for the most part any culture's definition of hell. Just like last timethe imperial spaceport Alater-ka was open to him. Again he ignored it and in doing so kept knowledge of his presence on this world hidden. Instead he allowed the suit to be his protection from the massive amount of radiation as he picked his way through the planet's surface. He could still feel the force here. Just as strongly as he could feel it any where else. A surprise at first, yet he was the last and only of his kind. It was to be expected if anything. His breathe began to fog up his visor plate as he looked around the harsh hellish landscape. There was no greater respect than for the unfortunate creature who dared to call this place home. Even though he understood with in good reason why they choose to dwell in such places like under ground cities. He summoned the force like it was a disobedient child, summoned it and used it to augment his senses and expand his search. Like a powerful wave he felt connect with the landscape around him, as if it he was apart of it, or it was apart of him. Various rocks seemed to call out to him, like feeble beggars at a bazaar hoping to get some quick cash from a Lord as he strolled by in his chariot. He battered away their presences much like the guards of a lord would kick at the stray beggars. A passion seem to take him in his search as they continued to call to him, until at last he came to a spot that seemed to threaten to over whelm him. There the cries matter and there he found what he was looking for. Had he wished for any barab ore, he would have choose one simply from the ground as soon as he landed. Yet through his searching and the use of the force, he found what he was searching for. Opening up a pouch in his suit he placed inside a multitude of the ore into the pouch , grabbing what he deemed to be the strongest in the region. They would do well for what was to come. Leaving the planet the same way he came, he soon found himself at another critical juncture. Why he was called here he couldn't be sure. Yet the asteroid seemed to draw to him much like a woman in heat called to her man. Unable to resist this call, he stepped foot out into this world, and was first disappointed and then delighted in what he found. Feeling his total preparation complete he return to his ship and set he ship onto an auto pilot to a specific set of coordinated before locking himself away in the ship and making use of the tools he had available to create his new and updated weapon arsenal.

Though the security forces had indeed tightened up in rather vital areas. They had focused more on protecting their higher ups, then they had on nullifying what damage he could do. As a result after having moved what work he had completed to a new location, he was suprised to have not found the vaunted corsec hot on his heels. It was amazing really how long these paticular items took to set up. If it wasn't for the relay system that linked on to another from across the galaxy, as well as the hyperwave abilties to let signals be transferred to each remotely should a situation occur to receive new orders, he would have been done long ago. Instead he had been forced to move painstakingly slow, given his mishap. He had scout out potential areas when he had first arrived. Simply allowing the journey to take him to potential hot spots. It was something that had increased, given the Emperor's new ban on Bacta upon this world. That would only make his job easier in hindsight. In his journey upon this world he had found himself adjacent to current street. It was almost funny, as if his path had been sidetracked. Much like how the pure white light that struck his face every morning was a testament to just how terrible of a place this truly was. How.... dependent it was. He suppose he had se up shop south of the white way, yet in some sense it was appropriate. He gave himself a mental chuckle. Today was his last day on this rock. As night fell, he set off once more. Sticking to shadows and blending in with crowds. There was nothing suspicious in his movements. He wasn't carrying anything overtly obvious. Granted he was armed yet so were quite a few of the people around him. He reached his ship in no time. moments later he blasted off of the rock. It was time to move on.

A raging inferno burned brightly behind the eyes of the last remaining Serpent Lord and Master in the galaxy. Perhaps there was a hint of madness at slaying all of those he could have called brother yet, it was not madness that drove him. Nor was it some need to prove he was superior to any other being in the galaxy. What drove him was power and chaos. Like two lovers entwined these ideas wrapped around his very being, fueling his every desire. After all, with chaos would arise order. With power would arise control. He was the embodiment of all that was, the living flame, and an agent of Chaos, an agent of life and an agent of death. A breath hotter than what surrounded it marked his passing as he trudged through the streets of this icy and forgotten planet. His gazed seemed to be glued to nothing in particular. Thought it was just as well, since he would have lit even a mountain on fire and caused it to crumble had it locked eyes with him. He was in a beautiful city. It was full large glistening structures, reflecting the atmosphere and culture that had shaped the people into what they were today. Here was where the center of their activity seemed to be. It was where their life blood seemed to run. He could feel it. Like a pulse, snaking its way through the planet only to seemed to originate and end here. It had called to him and so the Flaming avatar of war had arrived. As that was his current purpose. War for war's sake would be a foolish gesture at best. It would show only a small understanding of what was to be, and what was the truth. He knew in the grand scheme of things that is quest for power, even at the expense of everything around it, would actually be apart of the bigger, larger picture. The picture of the galaxy. He was in a sense letting nature take it course, using himself as in instrument, yet ruling over it like a God, with in his influence sphere. After all no man was a God until he wrote the rules that govern the Universe. With a wave of his hand his the door opened and he disappeared inside. It had been a simple task to set up shop here. He had brought in all of his materials, and had made sure he was with in striking distance of the many of the governmental buildings. At first he had stuck with the adage that the fire seems to burn brightest in the dark. Sticking to the shadows, he had chosen his ”˜victims' carefully. Had watched them for hours on days, before he took action. It was through this action he had been able to set up shop to begin with. Forcing his will upon others was just another art he had refined with out par. Or so he had thought. The first few days of this operation were, simple.... easy. Between information gathering and his general modes and methods he was able to work quickly in the same manner he had worked previously. Then came the first mistake. A Spy had infiltrated his hide out, wishing to do nothing more than rat him out. It would have been the end the moment Menthu caught sight of the boy. A simple fireball to burn out his victims lungs and render the body to Ash at the same time. This however was not the case. Mere moments into drawing the force around him, he felt.... electrified. It was strange but no as strange as when he attempted to simply burn the poor spy alive, and ended up decimating half the basement with the sheer for of summoning. He didn't even have time to remark about it, as with such a powerful misuse of the force came consequences. Such as this was no longer a location that would go unnoticed. Working haste he had struggled to remove his work so far and relocated it. He had been sucessful the first few times but, now around mishap number four he could almost feel a noose tightening around his neck. Has the force betrayed me?

As the old clunker of a ship emerged from hyperspace, deft hands quickly wrestled it around the normal traffic space lanes. Reaching out through the force, the cold calculating mind, was able to make this maneuver seem natural. None challenged him, on his way down to the surface, having used the force to dispel any curious eyes, or enraged hearts. He had chosen this planet specifically because of what had recently happened. Clearly the city was still in shock after such a massive terrorist attack, while waving New republic colors. It would serve it well to have the lesson repeated twice. A cruel smile accompanied him all the way down to the surface. Peace is only brought through passion Passion brings knowledge Knowledge brings power Power brings fear Fear is random; only Chaos is absolute Through chaos the clamor of order if heard. The purposeful flame, brings chaos to order and order to chaos It brings life from death, and death to life. Both is needed, like a double edged sword. The living flame, and the Flaming warrior The purposeful flame is my master I am master of the purposeful flame. Reflecting upon those words brought back a focus to his mission, even as his heart was tron in two by the wealthy of opportunity. He was truly torn between setting up operations in the recently bombed capital city of Coronet or the tourist attraction Tyrena. Settling inside of the blue sector, he gave the ship a moment's rest before lowering down the hatch. Clad in scarlet robes, he strode down the ramp with a sense of owning not just the population but planet they rested upon. A God once again walks among men. Hands folded into his robes, his ship was secured and he began to scout the area for a suitable location. As he walked he noticed an unusual array of buildings. The landscape was dotted with cantinas, tattoo parlors, fences, casinos, flophouses, brothels, and pawn shops. Steeped in Sin this city is. Stagnant. Clearly a change must be brought about, in order only possible by being derived from pure chaos. Surprising that business seems to be booming. With the lose of the warehouse sector, it would be assumed valuable supplies as well as loss of life would have made this area harder to operate. He simply mentally shrugged. He knew this particular set up would be hard. Even in this blue sector he had many things arrayed against him. First and foremost, it was an Alliance world. The chances of finding rebel troops were high, especially in the wake of the recent bombing. Add to that the general mode of the populous, looking for people who were basically doing and had done what he planned to do. Lastly the Corellian Security Force was hard at work attempting to uncover those response for the latest bomb plot. It would be rather embarrassing on their part if there were any more such incidents, so the ability to find and neutralize any more set up, or potential set ups was high on their list. Still he had at least settled the matter of the two cities. He had no problem using both in this demonstration. So he filtered in and out of bars, parlors, tattoo shops, and the massive underground system that truly attracted his eye. With so much potential, he soon found himself at his ship once more, hauling gear and supplies to set up shop in the blue sector's Selonian Tunnels. It just made sense for this first affair.

This is.... was his home. He had been born here, of that he was sure. It was to that end that he was here now. Once again born anew, though he had been for some time. His patience was great, and in the time since his defeat e had patiently waited. After all nothing went to waste on Harrun Kal. He had milled the streets, in the rebuilt 'civilized' areas. Glad to once again be apart of mere mortals, and not feel the hunger of power. It was almost a peaceful time for him. One that was immediately broken by a single peddler. As the temple had fallen into decay it seems, small little scavengers desperate to make a buck had raided what stores they could. At first it was perhaps food and medicine. Over time he had watched with increasing frequency, other more unique items making their way to market. As a result his patience had once again become renewed. That was until his hands were steeped in blood that is. One by one he hunted down and exterminated those foolish enough to buy that which rightfully was his. Like a dark specter hanging over the town, until the items were taboo to talk about much less purchase. Yet by then it was too late. He had already acquired both the sword and the bowcaster. Two items that almost seemed to sing in the force when once again reunited with their master. Clad in his special robes once more, he left behind that which he was unable to obtain, and boarded his ship. After all once the items had been listed on the do no touch list, they had been promptly dumped in the jungle and devourd by the 'wildlife' that existed within. Feeling to some degree complete, he departed this world. He had delivered a warning to the Jedi. A warning that he had noticed they had promptly ignored. Sad to be sure, for those unfortunate enough to be so casually dismissed by the Jedi.

Perhaps the outcome would have been different. Maybe had he been present at the time what came to pass would not have. Yet this was not so. Menthu lagged some what behind in the proceeding. Curious as to where the Jedi traveled he did follow his own creation. Yet he was no longer an ebullient, energetic adolescent. Patience was not a virtue that had been lost in the passing of time, and for each moment he delayed he only grew stronger in his might. Still that had nothing to do with what befell the jedi. The jedi was indeed powerful. Menthu had noted as much when he had first seen the jedi in his vibrant display of defiance against him. Yet even he was temporarily surprised, when the water of the fountain won out over the mighty flame he had cast. Perhaps it was that the water was used for meditative purpose by the jedi, or it could be the jedi's own raw power. Yet where it would have perhaps taken an ocean to defeat such a projection, now only a fountain of water had stood in its way. Advancing forward the flaming warrior went through a transformation of sort. As the armor that now sheathed his form continued to grow uninhibited. A vermilion crown emerge atop of his form. Giving him a majestic yet frightful appearance as he stalked the halls. His very foot steps causing their own conflagrations. It was the pinnacle of what he was in a way. Emerging into the room with the jedi, the steam that still hung heavy in the air did not at all hamper him. For no longer was he simply a mere flaming warrior, covered in fire forged of the dark side. Now he had transcended such a level. Transcended it in such a way that only a flaming avatar of war of war could have possibly done. Though silent so far, he couldn't help but allow a laugh. A deep throaty thing, much like the roar of a lion. A wave of arrows cast of flame exploded forth from his being to accompany this terrifying sound. No longer shall I need any flame to sustain my abilities, as I am the source of ALL POWER! As if to emphasis his new found ability to generate his flame based attacks the very ground he used to stand on was left below him, as the heat he generated was directed in a manner to give him flight in such a room. No longer was he tied to the same dimensions as the jedi, and though still confined in a building, the ability to at least hover would prove advantageous in a fight with such a quick jedi. Yet unmentioned in this was ROATSO. Having patiently bide its time, drinking heavily from the outflow of power. It now hummed with an angry hunger, wishing to unleash the power stored with in it. It's true power. No longer ignoring his weapon and his creation he floated to the top of the room to stare down at the jedi who had taken cover in the fountain. His skill as a marksman would not go unnoticed, as he pulled the trigger. In that single deciding instant between the two warriors, one a mere warrior while the other a God of war, the difference in power was truly realized. There was no second guessing of the Jedi's threat, there was only the powerful rifle's shot being outshone by the beauty and power of a single sole beam. Erupting from the bowcaster, the very manifestation of Menthu's rage was unleashed. It was the logical conclusion, of a fire excited to the level of energy that coursed through Menthu's veins. Having stored its energy from the Sith Master, it unleashed itself in a way found rather common through the cosmos. It was rare for most to see such a beautiful display of light. Especially one of such destructive power. With the beauty and intensity of a solar flare, ROATSO unleashed its most devastating attack. It was as dazzling as it was destructive. Not even the armor the first Jedi had worn, famed as it was, would not stand up well to something known only to have ever been blocked by a lightsaber. As the trigger was pulled in that instant a high intensity beam of ionized light erupted forth. Lead by an electrical charge, that added an added vibrancy to the attack, the resulting proton storm left in its wake surged forth far to small to cause anything than biochemical damage at most. Perhaps that would have been enough for some. The simply pulling of the trigger being all that was needed to accomplish victory. Yet Menthu had the high ground and he wanted to see all around him burn. Some may have called it a whim, yet once again a fiery display of power burst forth from all over his being. Much like a shower of fire, he rained down fireballs and flaming arrows, attempting to set ablaze everything including what ever would be left of the Jedi's body. Burn it all to ashes. ((3 sorry for the late reply, lot of traveling and what not just so you are aware the attack by ROATSO is based off of a solar ionization cannon.))

Though his disturbing blaze had faded away, the addition of the Jedi's force light to counter it almost brought a sense of peace to Menthu. Even the pain in his side from a nearly fatal attack seemed to melt away. Yet his convictions were not just firm, they were right. He took his pleasure and his focus from his environment. The sounds of the fire still crackling allowing him to draw breath still even in this heat laden environment, where air was increasingly hard to come by. Powerful as the force light was, it was dealing with a Sith of a different sort. One not swayed by the notions of dark and light existing with out each other. Though there was little time for thoughts and only truly time for action, his convictions still resonated inside of him. He knew fire was his way of life and the purpose of his existence. That it tore down old to bring in the new. Burning ever-upwards it couldn't itself be polluted. It was a double agent. An agent of purity and as a symbol of righteousness and truth. As well as an agent of life and an agent of death. Had his thoughts had form, they would ave simply reflected back to his musings on the universal order. He knew that with ever dark act he committed he was also inevitably creating an act born of the lightside. It was the inevitable dual nature of fire. Fire can bring darkness to the land, scorching the earth. Yet fire brings light to the sky. Fire recycles, nutrients so that growth could begin anew. Yet inevitably no matter how one was to look at it, fire's inevitable goal was destruction. As his goal and its goal matched they could only be harmonious with one another. The dulcet sound of the flames called to him. Pleasing as they were, they only invited him to join them. Join their harmonious sound and add greater voice to their incredible roar. His energy in excess began percolating into his weapon. ROATSO more that willing to accept this new found source of power, its crystal resonating in tune with the Master. The smoke that once curled in and around him was only a sign. They had been the beginning in what was to come. The purposeful flame, brings chaos to order and order to chaos As his own ammunition strong enough to set things ablaze with but a touch slammed into him, only an inhuman grin accompanied the act. Fire had long ago lost its hold over Menthu as it and he were of the same stock. It could no more hurt him as he could hurt it. They were agents of each other, each striving for the same goal. Snippets of his own code seem to come to him in but a flash. The living flame, and the Flaming warrior The purposeful flame is my master I am master of the purposeful flame. In that same span of time, that same instant a creature of nightmares was revealed. Where once spoke curled around his body, flames shot forth. An almost impossibly rapid conflagration surrounded the Sith creating a haunting being worthy of any horror story known. Covered in crimson and ebony flames, the beast seem to almost radiate a malevolence that chocked the very light out of the room. Yet the worse feature weren't the soulless pits that resembled eyes with a hidden intelligence. Nor was it the wickedly fiendish grin that seemed to cover the demon spawn's face. It was the imposing size the already bunyanesque physic of Menthu seemed to gain. At an imposing height the now pythonic flame warrior had been born. Yet it had only taken the span of an instant for the visual to manifest itself before the eyes of the Jedi. Yet the flames that now leaped from what once seemed like a man served a far greater purpose than what was immediately evident. Most men would shriek in terror at the sight of such a being approaching them on the battlefield. Yet for the few brave enough to hold their ground however briefly would find their efforts to be in vain. As the flames forged of the darkside became an armor of a fearful sort. Blaster bolts ricocheted off in the same manner of his spider silk. Yet even those skilled in melee combat would find their effort to be of no avail. Melee weapons fell to such a manifestation in the same manner as if they had been cast into a forge. Melted down upon striking the gruesome creature. Even a lightsaber would for a time find its efforts severely lacking, which allowed him to be far more reckless in such close quarters. The inherent problem for the Jedi was that this suit of armor, this mere flame warrior was simply that. Unbeknown to the Jedi however, was that was only the bottom tier. The most frightening aspect was it still had the power to grow, it was but the starting point of something greater to come. The Force swelled around him, and with a deep breath he blew forth a fiery creation meant only for creatures of myth. For most in the art of breathing forth flame their ability was limited. Their skill did not lie beyond having their creation travel in a straight line. Menthu had learned how with the force to go beyond such limitations. The massive fireball shaped like the head of a kyrat dragon emerged form the Sith's mouth. The fearsome visage that sped toward the Jedi was of a special sort. Had it been at its most basic level, it would have only continued at the Jedi in a straight line. Even the addition of a shape would have been impossible. Yet this behemoth of a creation was beyond that of even the level of a Sith lord's ability. This was the creation by a master of pyrism. He wouldn't even need to keep a line of sight on his target like a Sith lod would be forced to. No the Jedi was doomed to be devoured in the jaws of the dragon as even should the Jedi run, it would follow. It would give chase like a hungry hound dog or a missile locked onto its target. As long as Darth Raset was in the general vicinity there was no where the Jedi would be able to run that it would not follow. So shall another jedi burn and another bond broken. ((2))

It was but a moment, a mere glimpse of the power the Jedi wielded but it was enough. Enough for Menthu to understand this Jedi was not to be trifled with. Yet even the vibrant display of power by the Jedi went unheeded at first, as the machniations of a would be assassin were instead thwarted. While the young man quickly retreated under the fury of flames that beset him Menthu's eyes opened wide. Catching on a snatch of the Jedi's statement over the crackled of the flames surrounding them. Warned as he may have been it was not enough. Far to focused on the young assassin to truly move out the way of the determined Jedi. A single slash and twisting flesh was seared away. The wound was but a graze, yet the Jedi's blow had caught him at an inopportune time, and had easily moved passed his defenses. Still twisting in his attempt to retreat from the sabers, he ended up sprawled out upon the floor. Yet knowing the danger of the Jedi quickly sprang to his feet, creating space and distance between himself and the Jedi. Though the conference room was rather small for a prolonged fight. As long as there if fire to draw from... I shall have the ability to call on all of my arsenal. A single gasp was all that was heard, as the Darth Raset aimed with a weapon that almost seemed to simply appear in his hand. So fast was the draw that the bowcaster was aimed at the Jedi before the movement of the draw was even registered. Perhaps a different kind of Sith would engage in some badinage. Yet his entire focus was on the Jedi and the force. The pain in his side, seemed to fuel the rising anger he had at almost being ended in a single swift stroke. A dirty trick by another supposed guardian of the peace. Their order much like many in the galaxy needed to be burnt down and allow for new things to grow in its place. His focus with the force turned inward on himself. Smoke starting to rise in small curls upon his body. Yet perhaps in perfecting timing with the pulling of the trigger the entire room was bathed in an eerie red glow. The source of the light being a small point in his chest that rapidly expanded outward. It was a delaying tactic, yet a fatal one. As through the force, all who caught sight of such a light would have the first taste of true fear. The unprepared might simply be overwhelmed into the flight response, almost as if viewing a wildfire coming to claim them and all that they love. Yet for others, its power unlocked traumatic memories of times past. Allowing the individual to relive the experiences, as if they were happening anew. It was at this point he fired, the span of the entire exchange lasting mere moments, yet the implications were of a lethality meant to simply overwhelm the boastful Jedi. ROATSO roared as it spat forth its flaming ammunition. Three quick shots that even if there were to miss the target, would fragment on whatever they did slam into. Allowing for an even brighter and more vibrant display as a new wave of fiery projectiles were launched. In such close quarters, the advantages of fragmenting ammunition were of far greater number than a dual blade wielding Jedi. Wielding no less blades that even ROATSO could stand up against should the need call for it. Assuming the Jedi was close enough to reach out and touch some one. ((1))

The boy clearly had the making of a Sith about him, yet an assassin he was not. He had given himself away long before the trigger had even been pulled. Menthu did mentally chide himself even as he did move. His arm waving to summon the power to counter the incoming threat. The boy had braved the heat of fire, a fire that was not just devouring a hallway but, even melting the droids that had been caught or thrown in its path. An inferno so furious, that the passion of the man behind its creation was the only thing that eclipsed it destructive blaze. Yet that hadn't been enough for the boy. For most to stand amidst a raging flame was a terrible nightmare. To feel heat that could melt the flesh off of bones an unimaginable horror. Just listening to the crackling flames hungry for all it could touch would send most running in the utetrmost panic. Yet this child had indeed braved such a terror. Perhaps it was the dark malevolent rage in the pit of the stomach that had so foolishly led him on. To allow him to tiptoe from the hallway into the conference room in such a manner to be positioned behind Menthu. To stand his ground and take a deep breath in the heat heavy environment. Yet whatever fueled the boy did not extend to giving him techniques to mask his deviousness. To shoot some one in the back, was an action looked down upon even the most vile of scum. It was truly the mark of a desperate and fearful being. One who would do anything with in their limited scope of power to remove an annoyance or threat. Still, it was known to Menthu that the boy was on the prowl. From the moment the anger gripped the child's heart to him crossing into the room. None of this was hidden from the Purposeful flame. So when the boy fired he was ready. Though many options had been available to him, the most prevalent one was to duck and shield his exposed face with his arm. Knowing the spider silk that covered his body would protect against any further shots. Still even with foreknowledge the blaster bolt was close. Had he been in a more playful mood he might have attempted to bat it away. Yet feeling only the need to watching the little monster be burned alive, he wanted to waste as little effort as possible on the creature. He was sure the fire demon found the addition of a blaster bolt slamming into it, to be a rather unwelcome addition during its unrestrained rampage. What a devious little monster! I shall kill him quickly before he understands what has happened to him. So as Menthu rose, so with him did a hail of fire. Fashioned in the shape of arrows, many of these creations did rain down toward the boy. From a single wave meant to encompass the area the boy had chosen to stand his ground in. With no table to find cover from, the obvious result would be the punctured and broiled corpse of the dark side fledgling. <>

Fire it is our way of life and the purpose of our existence. It tears down old to bring in the new. Burning ever-upwards it can't itself be polluted. An agent of purity and as a symbol of righteousness and truth . An agent of life and an agent of death. There was no murderous glee that came with the kill. Not triumph or satisfaction over the death of the Mandalorian Jedi. Just a disquiet sort of pleasure. Perhaps the same pleasure a pyromaniac would have at moving deadwood into a roaring flame. It was for the Jedi over long before the escalation point. As the Jedi stood, lightsaber in hand all Menthu did was crack a long grin. His hand fell to his side an din that moment the victor had been decided. Slowly at first the face fell apart before at last three disconnected pieced of what had been the Jedi's head dribbled to the floor. The distinct sound of wet met hitting the stoned floor resounding above the crackling flames. The force Flow about him in a vibrant storm as he felt the death of the Jedi. One more bond severed, a bit more instability brought to the galaxy once more. Had he felt the need to dwell on it, he would have felt his sense expanded outwards. His thirst only moderately quenched after feeding in on the severed ties brought about with the Jedi's misfortune. Instead he could feel the call of the purposeful flame. Feel his role in the galaxy take over him once more. Looking toward the door his sighed in dismay. Though the fight had taken merely an instant it seems he already had a set of eyes upon him. Still a smile was brought to his lips, as he felt one depart from this world. A rightful and logical conclusion and one he could not find fault in the padawan for doing. It was this secondary Hutt spawn that still seemed to be at the door that drew his attention. With a simple wave of his hand the door was blown backwards and off of its frame. Crashing disjointedly in the hall, the sith spawn ambled out first, laying ablaze the very ground it walked on, which quickly began to consume both the conference room and the surrounding hall wall. It was unfortunate however, that the droids and a secondary Jedi lie in its path. Given the unnaturally quick response time of both droids and Jedi, it was equally uncanny the speedy upon which the Fire Demon set upon the droids. Destroying them in a heart beat. Its very touch melting through their chest, and the force behind its blows sending them flying. Curiously the Fire Demon had left the new Jedi alone. Only sending a single slagged droid his way in a molten show of power. If the Jedi dodged or not was not Menthu's concern. Perhaps I have over stayed my welcome. "So another Jedi seems to have shown up, do you all just appear out of thin air? No matter, you shall be slain like the last if you do not step aside. " With the room a roaring inferno, it was a strange sight to see a lone figure standing admist the burning room. None of the flames touching him, and even the few that dared having no effect on the being what so ever. Having long ago lost his vulnerabilities to fire, he simply cooked an eyebrow at the Jedi before bringing his gantlets together in a single clap. Yet that clap was but a distraction, a place for the eye to wander as he drew upon the force once more. The situation was beyond perfect and it was with a certain amount of ease he preformed his salvo. The air already thick with heat, was suddenly superheated upon the Jedi. For many worlds there was such a being that had one job. This job being solely to fight fires, or to at least minimize the damage of an out of control flame. For each and every single one of those beings, there was one thing they feared most. One thing that unfortunately for the late coming fast moving Jedi, he was going to experience. What happened to the Jedi was best described to be similar to a flashover. In one thunderous panel shaking roar, the world turn red hot and white for the Jedi as Menthu unleashed his devastating attack. He cared not if it killed the Jedi, only that the Jedi was out of the way. Yet he doubted even a Jedi as quick as this one had enough time to escape from such a devastating event. ((Kautra Nadio still waiting on a response from you. Putting this up so Hartel can re spawn and all. Still consider this a killshot if I don't hear from you shortly.))

((Delete))

Stagnant! The for all intents and purposes Sith Master slowly stood up, his hands covered by the gauntlets he always wore pushing into the table as a way to help him up. Eyes snapping open, only the black tendril that briefly caught his eye, gave him an measure of happiness. Standing up, he drew himself up to the full height of six foot two. A rather menacing height for some. Yet there was little doubt that anyone housed with in the temple would be affected by such a large and imposing man. Slowly he made his way toward the Jedi. To shake his hand would mean... That was a good question. What would it mean to shake the Jedi's hand. Had not the Jedi went confront with the news of innocents in danger, called an end to the meeting, in order to check up on his padawans. Perhaps the Jedi felt e had all the information he needed. Yet in most cases, those who assumed such, in general had no intention to act on what information they did have. Something no doubt, would be the case here, as even in the man's speech he was already trying to shuttle him off to the Empire. What an interesting conversation that would be. Approaching a Grand Admiral to tell him his homeworld, currently under occupation by Alliance forces, was under threat of having its capital destroyed. He reached out to shake the Jedi's hand. There was no reason not to. His gloved hands extended forward, before grasping the Jedi's to give it a decent pump. It mattered little that the lives of civilians hung in the balance, what was important was this information to perhaps be sat upon or transmitted to the Jedi council. Padawans did come first after all, and this was all assuming that the Jedi didn't simply expect him to tell the Empire of the dastardly plot. Stagnant! That is in the end what all of these vaunted orders are. Mere dead wood that need to be added to a burning flame, to break the useless bonds that hold the galaxy together in such a flimsy way. The guilt rolled off of him still, even as one hand firmly grasp the hand of a Jedi in a union rarely seen amongst the galaxy. The Jedi might have been onto something with the idea of uniting the two orders through dialogue. In an instant, the Master struck. It had been a simple thing. Assuaging the Jedi of his skepticism by not immediately flaying the representative of a useless order alive on first sight. Letting the feelings of guilt and despair roll of of him, to allow the jedi the chance to only feel the surface thoughts. Never allowing the Jedi to go much deeper then the surface. Misdirecting the Jedi by playing to his faults and suspicions. The best part was now the information would forever be in doubt, as had he been telling the truth, or had it been an elaborate plot? Beyond knowing the general location of the threat any recording wouldn't provide much more information. He had sized up his opponent, as he had walked, knowing full well what to expect as he gave the first violent tug to throw the Jedi off balance. Pulling him toward claws. Wicked things born of metal and fire, lightning up the room in an unholy blaze. The energy of their activation bring an intense heat to the room. The face was the target, after all it was clear the Jedi had some sort of armor on and he wouldn't waste his time with a useless attack. Though the tug wasn't meant just to run the Jedi's face into a vicious clawed back hand that happened to be on fire. No that would be far to simple. Given his deception so far, to have stopped there, would have been an insult to his own purpose. No the Tug was also meant to slam him into the table. The very table that was coming alive through the power of the Dark side. Ancient Sith from long ago, had learned how to make dead artifacts briefly gain mobility.... life. His own knowledge allowed something similar. Dark sinister vines grew outward from the table. Twisting and turning and burning ablaze through no normal fire. No this fire was an intense heat born of the dark side, and bought about during his administrations during his 'conversation' with the Jedi. A fire that wouldn't cease to stop burning, until it was spent, willing and able to set anything it happened to touch alight with its dark fires. What a fitting end for the armored Jedi. To have his head removed from his body. The claws making short work of his unarmored face. Followed by a quick funeral pyre, by a creature that embodied the idea of a Sith spawn. At the very least the creature though its life span would be short, perhaps a mere five minutes, would at least boil the Jedi alive in his armor should he not catch flame and die immediately. A vicious grin accompanied his face as he unleashed his sudden attack. knowing there was no way, the Jedi could have possibly seen any of it coming. The table that had gained life of its own, using the vines to propel itself forward toward the Jedi. The sudden unsheathing of hidden claws meant to tear him asunder, or even that subtle drawing of the force through out the entire conversation. A severe disappointment. <>

Menthu took measured steps into the conference room. Upon entering he immediatley began to survey his suroundings. In general he doubted he would see such a room under a non hostile arrangement. So naturally he took the time to notice the general oddities in a room. Finding none, he was almost dismayed that the jedi, had such a bland room housed with in their temple to begin with. Though the Jedi spoke in a calm manner, Menthu was easily able to pick up on the distrusting nature of the Jedi. He was more or less upsetting the Jedi with his presence. Something he found ironic when he compared the Jedi's response to what he knew of Jedi teachings. It mattered very little that this Jedi carried distrust around like a shield. It was something dark sider's were known for and it was good that the Jedi were learning up more or less. Interesting use of Force technique. Here I thought that using the force for trivial matters was more of a dark side trait than a light jedi trait. Especially given their utter reverence for the energy field. No matter, at least I know what kind of Jedi I am dealing with. His hands grasping the back of the chair allowed him to lower himself before looking up to face the jedi. Hands, placed palm down on the table, he appeared to be feeling the surface of the table. Perhaps unwilling to simply launch right into discussion. Eyes raised to look at the Jedi he began. "I come to you simply because of a plot I have come to the awareness of." Closing his eyes, palms against the table, he appeared to be concentrating. Waves of both guilt and despair seemed to roll of of the Serpent Master. The last member of a dead order once an off shoot to the Sith. Though his mind raced to recall the details, he was aware the Jedi seemed to be focusing on him. His eyes did not need to be open to tell him that. It was far easier to confront the Jedi with eyes close. Kept them from giving you piercing stares as if they sought to understood all you were and what you were doing. Still the Force flowed strongly in and around the Master. His concentration never wavering as he recalled such a grave matter. "I come to the Jedi, as I have been exposed to a plot to destroy most of the capital of the Ice world of Cillsa. The Chiss homeworld I believe. Not unlike you Jedi, we dark siders, also hold the power over life of death of innocent civilians. " He could feel it building up inside of him, and subsequently more guilt seemed to roll of of him. "It appears I do not have the skill needed to diffuse this particular threat. therefor I come to the Jedi to come and aid in this manner. After all, Just because my path is darker than yours, doesn't mean I enjoy in watching the whole sale destruction of civilians, for just the sake of their deaths. Before I continue any further Jedi, will you pledge to at least save those citizens?"

He raised an eyebrow as the Jedi came into view. Measuring the man's stride and gait, he had to assume that he was unnaturally bulky in what was under the robes. Or so his trained mercish eye seemed to suggest. Perhaps an armor of some sort. As the Jedi Knight bowed before him, he allowed the prickly feeling of pride to be washed away. Instead he simply returned the bow, feeling it are better to be courteous then to appear stand offish. "Menthu. You may refer to me as Menthu." He paused and stared past the Jedi briefly. To discuss the matters he would like to be off the front steps of the Jedi's haven. "Shall you invite me in Jedi Knight John Hartel. I feel there is something we must discuss, and it is always better to discuss grave matters in a more comfortable setting." A small grin shone from behind the shadows cast by his hood as he met the Jedi's eye. Gesturing towards the hall with which the Jedi came, he prepared to follow the Jedi to an area of his choosing.

A small distortion among the starts and silently the small shuttle made the transfer to this plane of existence. Behind the controls of that bantha of a ship sat a single man, long robes cascading down from the rough's pilot chair. A man seemingly over dressed for his current activity yet all the same steadily guiding the ship in. His brow furrowed in the middle, at the lack of obvious planetary traffic control. No doubt a result of the general backwater ness of the planet. Perhaps it simply does not see many visitors. However, the Jedi where here. They always seemed to come here. He was unsure of their draw on the place but, like criminal returning to the scene of a crime they always returned. Perhaps it would make more sense, had they perhaps moved the location of their temple. Yet it was understandable that they had not, given the lack of suitable spaces to construct such a thing. Pulling back on the yoke, the ship began to enter the atmosphere. He knew that Jedi despite their cries of pacifisim and peace were not only not fools but, rather jumpy. As a result his initial idea was of course to come in on a vector that had nothing to do with the temple. Though his flying wans't on par with say an Ace, he managed to slip into the atmosphere, the shuttle's plates' radiating from the heat of re-entry. He knew he had to be careful, and land in an area, that wouldn't be subjected to the metal eating microbes of this world. So like any logical person, he parked the shuttle in a nearby city. Perhaps had the mood struck the force of nature, he would have slain many in that city. Yet as the merc in him, was currently holding dominance on his actions, he simply rented the local transportation. Riding the beast out of the city proved to be rather difficult at first for the tried and true killer. Yet, it mattered very little as soon he was on his way. It was for this reason he approached the Jedi temple by mount. His robes having been wrapped around his face to protect his breathing. Dismounting from the creature, he calmly walked up to the front door. Knowing full well he was not only being watched but no doubt targeted. Still making no hostile moves, should keep the Jedi from trying to shoot him or in their case stab him on sight. The sight of a droid awaiting visitors, drew his attention, and so he directed his focus toward it. ”œGood day droid. I would like to speak with the most senor Jedi in charge of this facility or, perhaps in this facility. Rank is preferable to control in this case. If you would be so kind as to either have me escorted to him, or perhaps, have him meet me here on these stairs.”

The bonds that hold the galaxy together I shall break. Allowing it to be as it should. Mankind's one and only acknowledged living act of God, known as neither Jedi nor Sith, calmly remained perched in the back of the shuttle. The mind of the poor lad who piloted the bucket stank of fear, as Menthu Agent of the Galaxy, master of Chaos sat in a meditative pose. He would be forced to limit himself that much was sure. Yet the interesting part was how would he be received. Would the beings who made up this Freedom Alliance Have any taste for him. Though he did not care what they actually thought, it did matter, as their response would dictate his. With a some what rough bump the terror filled pilot, touched down on the surface. Allowing the man to live on a whim, he decided the man's skills would have improved drastically afterwards, given that his first flight did not end in his untimely end. A motivational factor to be sure. Stepping onto the recently destroyed world, he looked around, the dark side of the force rolling off of him in waves. His cloak elegant as it was did not stir as he took stock of the new world. Just another overly populated dustball. Eyes narrowed, he moved off into the space port and began to lay down questions of this Freedom Alliance.

Menthu raised an eyebrow, He was sure every operative had heard the same message, and like wise were taking the same precaution/. Not concerned with material wealth, he let those who were, do their own thing. He however, was an agent of chaos, the explosion of this palace while beautiful would not accomplish this aim. Still it was always nice to watch a few fire works. He was at least a good 400 meters out when the thing exploded. He turned around to watch the hole in the sand suddenly light up and glass over. No doubt the beast he felt at the bottom of the lair could have a hard time surviving that particular explosion but, it was the price to be paid. With nothing left to do, he found himself on his way back to Courscant in short order.

Menthu simply smiled as he lifted the last AT-At out of the sands they had been trapped it. It was time for plan B. There was something interfering with the base of the structure. Something that kept the force from being fully active on what ever pedestal it rested on. That was of course no matter. As the grappling hooks had made it past the blast shields, so did he, and a good number of Black Sun men. If they could not unbury the thing through strength of will, they would have to find other methods. This place is filled with sand, the cleaning crew will have a real mess on their hands. He mentally joked as he entered the palace. Plunging into the sand, he found the palace only had enough sand inside of it to be at most waist level. So though it was slightly difficult to navigate it wasn't impossible, and him as well as the men quickly found themselves in the Hutt's throne room. ”œAlright boys, lift this thing up. Surely the Hutt keeps his control around here with in arm's reach. SCOUR the throne and the area around it, leave nothing over turned. I want those controls found. NOW!”