Kuat

[Krath Apothos]

[OOC NOTE: This post takes place several hours prior to the arrival of the Axis fleet, and ends as the Axis fleet arrives]

 

The Bleeding Edge snapped into real-space over Kuat, the luxury yacht out of place set against the backdrop of the Remnant fleet.

 

In his suite, Nok gazed at the howlrunner skull set on the simple pedestal in the corner, his eyes running over the long fangs and the empty eyes. He'd long since memorized the shape of the thing, but he still found it put him in a contemplative mood to look at it. He needed to be contemplative after his failure. He needed to be calm.

 

"Of course, we'll meet at the Moff's Estate outside of the Kuat City," the hologram of the finely dressed, dark-skinned human rattled on, as if quoting a shopping list.

 

Nok looked down at the kuati noble. Lord...Ekros, that was it.

 

"The Moff's Estate? Why there?"

 

"Only place you could feasibly get everyone you want in one place. With the Remnant fleet in orbit, the nobles and the influential will want to pay their respects to the Moff..." Lord Ekros smiled. "And of course show how loyal they are."

 

"And see how badly their own credits and titles are being threatened," Nok finished. "Military action is great for the ship-building business. Military action in their own backyard...less so." He considered, and liked the idea. It would be easy to get everyone into a secluded spot in the Moff's Estate for a meeting with Nok's new master, and once the fleet arrived there could be some additional opportunities presented from being in the right location.

 

"Alright, gather your friends and move towards the estate. Make whatever excuses you need to."

 

The hologram of the noble flickered, but didn't turn off. Instead, Lord Ekros frowned.

 

"Is something wrong, my lord?"

 

"This is an unusual move for you Nok. We've worked together before, and you've never moved this openly. Always representatives and shell companies with you. How many joint ventures did we have together before you personally called me? How many joint ventures before I even realized I was working with the same person on each of them? Yet now...the list of people you sent are all movers and shakers on Kuat, and you want a personal meeting with all of them? At once?"

 

"Not me exactly. Consider me the go-between. But believe me when I say that this meeting could make or break fortunes, yours included. You've always been a good friend to me, and I see an opportunity to make us both obscenely rich, and powerful besides."

 

Lord Ekros held up his hand. "Save the cryptic talk, I know the drill. No details over the Holonet. But some of the people you have on your list...they won't stand for riddles and veiled promises. How will you get them to attend?"

 

"I have preparations to fall back on. Lord Ferios for example is a known publicity hound. I've used one of my of 'assets' to convince him of a high profile interview. He'll come running. And a certain Lady who shall remain unnamed has some compromising datafiles that would be quite damaging to her reputation if released..."

 

Lord Ekros shook his head. "Alright, I'll leave you to it. You've always come through before." As he said it, Ekros locked eyes with Nok, making it clear the statement was an expectation, not just an observation. "Casual betrayal has never been your thing, so long as there's profit, and I like to think we're reliable investments for each other." The implication was clear. If Nok intended betrayal, Lord Ekros would be ready. Though Nok doubted Ekros would be ready for a Sith Lord.

 

"You have always been the most pragmatic of men, especially for a human," Nok said, with genuine respect in his voice. "I would be a fool to throw away such an asset."

 

"See that you don't. And remember that I'm not your asset."

 

The hologram flickered off, and Nok rolled his eyes. These nobles and their pride. He keyed the intercom.

 

"Pilot, have we been given permission to land?"

 

"Yes sir. Under Lord Ekros's personal request our landing rights have been expedited."

 

"And Lord Akheron's identity?"

 

"Completed. One of the serving droids is providing him with the dossier now sir."

 

"Excellent, bring us in for a landing. And arrange for a skiff. Formal standards."

__________

 

The rented, modified HS-14 hover skiff cruised over the grassy plains of Kuat, heading for the Moff's Estate. Nok stood in silence beside his master, taking in the view. This planet was so...boring. Perfectly manicured and tailor-made for humans, unchanged for centuries. The nobles held their power and wealth with little effort, a part of the scenery as much as the hills and grass. Their petty schemes rarely ranged outside of their own atmosphere, and with a few exceptions like Lord Ekros they were far more interested in being nobles than doing anything with that nobility. At least in Nok's opinion.

 

Nok was about to comment to his master, when something twinged at the back of his neck. He whirled, eyes roaming the landscape but finding nothing. He frowned, and extended his senses into the Force as he had on the ship. Around him the Force rippled, but nothing like he'd have expected from a planet so rich in life. It felt stagnant, empty, without meaning. His senses brushed against his master's presence, and he immediately recoiled. He focused again on the landscape around the skiff.

 

...There. Subtle, but there. A pressure, a current, something... Like the undertow of something swimming through the water. Nok couldn't find the source, but the echoes were there. Nok extended his senses deeper, letting the Force pull him apart and into it, the web of life weaving through him.

[Krath Apothos]

"Slow down the skiff" Nok ordered, voice distant to his ears, mind deep in the Force. A part of him twitched with fear at the thought of angering his new master with such presumption, but the fear was tamped down as need overruled it. He had to find this thing. It wasn't a rational need, but instinctual. Nok suddenly had the clear image in his head of the technician and the arachnor who devoured him. The technician had searched the dim room frantically for the massive spider, yet had only glimpsed the creature just before it struck.

 

Where was it? So close, yet invisible. And...yes, it had noticed him too. Nok couldn't say how he knew, but the echoes in the Force coming from the thing told him of anticipation, and of hunger. Pure hunger.

 

Two of Nok's knives slipped into his hands as the skiff slowed. Nok distantly heard the wail of sirens in Kuat City rise over the plains.

 

The fleet had arrived.

[Krath Apothos]

Nok barely heard his master’s words as he walked off the skiff, hypnotized by the presence in the fields. Something...something out there moved and watched him. It saw him…

Nok allowed his mind to unspool further into the Force, the scenery melting away as he closed his eyes and his feet walked on mechanically. Bit by bit, his soul and sensations bled out into the vast field of energy surrounding him, into the universe itself. An impossible feeling to describe or capture, he felt a million motions and distant forces move the great sea of energy. But there...there was the one that moved with him. So close, he could almost touch it.

Nok opened his eyes, and for a brief moment, his physical and Force-attuned senses saw as one. He saw gleaming, slitted eyes in the shadows.

Then something brushed his mind.

Perhaps it was because he had failed and recoiled when he had sensed his master’s dark presence on the ship that Nok did not retreat. Instead, he reached out and grasped the presence, his thoughts and emotions spinning out into the Force and into the thing that hunted him. His thoughts entangled with something else, and Nok felt the grass and dirt beneath his scaly belly, the taste of fear and sweat in the air...and hunger. Such hunger. Hunger for power.

Nok knew hunger, he’d been born to it. He remembered his time as a grub, confined with his siblings with little food to ensure only the greedy and strong survived. He remembered his desire to kill and control his siblings to ensure they never threatened his food or life again.

Hunger always has a reason.

What is your reason? Why do you want it so badly?

Nok’s fear pushed at him, struggling to ball him up and protect him from the thing that radiated danger, to force him to pray it would go away and leave him be. Nok pushed it back and instead wrenched at what he realized was a mind he’d entangled with. He pulled at it, struggling to draw it out into the Force with him, where he was strong. Instinctually, he wormed his way along the creature’s mind, looking for the source of its hunger.

 

((1))

 

**************************************************************************************

 

Lord Ekros closed his eyes and sighed as he listened to his fellow nobles bicker.

 

"What sort of stunt is this?" Lady Hyla shrieked. At 73, it was a miracle the old bat had only managed three heart attacks given how "sensitive" she was, as she put it. The noble woman dressed in an overblown gown of red and blues that clashed horrendously with the greenery of the garden, a fact Ekros had no doubt she'd find some way to be offended about.

 

"Calm down my lady," the waddling Lord Ferios said, eyes twitching back and forth. He at least was entertaining. Normally by this point the fat ironmonger would be apoplectic at being given the run-around like this, but he still couldn't be sure he wasn't on camera, so instead he contained his anger and tried in vain to keep Lady Hyla's shrieking fit from reaching orbit. Ekros gave the man two more minutes before he popped like a squeezed juma.

 

"Shut up you drama whore!" Hyla spat. "This is your doing! You wanted a good show to humiliate senile, old Hyla right!?"

 

Ekros had to give Nok credit. Whatever info he had on Hyla, to get a reaction like this out of the normally reserved lady it must have been something slimy. She could get loud, but he hadn't seen her this out of control since the tabloids had gotten word she was diddling her majordomo.

 

"Or maybe it's you!?" Hyla turned on Ekros, finger jabbing at him like a force pike. "What are you stealing this time? You've got my engineers. What, do you want their lunch boxes too?"

 

Ekros held up placating hands. "Don't look at me. I didn't call this meeting."

 

"Sure, and-"

 

"Who's that?" Ferios asked, cutting off Hyla.

 

The other two turned to see...Ekros honestly didn't know what to make of the man. Dressed in armor, and clearly not native kuati.

 

Nok's representative?

 

Ekros had been wondering at the ham-handed antics Nok had used to call this meeting. Half the "guest list" hadn't even arrived yet, and Hyla was about to have a stroke. This all smelled of hasty measures, and that wasn't Nok's style. The businessman who always thought he was so clever with his company shell-game never acted until he was sure his own backside was covered with durasteel plating. And now...this?

 

He doesn't look like Nok's usual go-betweens. Heck, he doesn't look like anyone's go between...

 

A chill ran down Ekros' spine, and he involuntarily stepped back. This man was different. Different from Ekros, from Hyla, from Ferios, from every contact and associate Ekros had ever dealt with or double-crossed. He reminded Ekros of Nok once, when the neimoidian had been furious at Offworld for sniping one of his mining operations. Emotion compressed like a metal coil, with enough power to shatter bone.

 

Ekros started to reply, but heard the sirens.

 

What the hell?

 

“You must be the three I was told of I presume? I am the one Nok spoke of, Darius Jadeo. Shall we head inside? We will have to make this brief, it appears my friends have arrived ahead of schedule. Most unexpectedly.”

 

"...Friends?" Ekros ventured into the silence that followed.

[Krath Apothos]

Nok writhed, lost in the Force as he grappled with that something. That...snake? Yes. A snake, a snake that had been flushed down the fresher, and still felt that fear. That fear drove its hunger and its desire for power.

 

Mind and heart driving down deeper and deeper, Nok felt the presence buckle under his pressure. Glee radiated from Nok and into the void as he bent the creature that had been about to devour him, coiling it beneath his will and presence. He saw as the memory of the boy played out for the serpent, the Force making it real.

 

The Force is us, Nok thought in an epiphany. The master here is the master in truth.

 

Nok grinned and throttled the serpent, driving it further into its own memory, letting the fear creep in and erode its mind. He watched as the memory of the septic pipes trapped it in a dark, breathless maze.

 

Then the snake twisted and squirmed under his mental grip, suddenly hard as steel, the memory a show and not an experience. Nok only registered it for a second before the impression of a dripping maw appeared before him and enveloped him. Mentally, he felt the creature sliding along his own thoughts, a thread in its jaws.

 

Nok opened his eyes, and saw nothing but black. He knelt on the cold ground, not on the grassy, sunlit plain from a moment ago. He stretched out his hand, and could still feel the Force, but muffled, like hearing water rushing behind a wall. All around him was nothing but black.

 

And cold. The cold bored into him, cutting past his skin and spreading through his bones. His fingers ached with pain, and every breath dug needles into his lungs. Nok grimaced and curled up, eyes tingling as the freezing air pressed in.

 

I know this.

 

My vision

 

The vision he’d had a hundred times, each as real as now. The vision of him dying in the cold and dark, surrounded by-

 

Something moved behind him, scraping across the floor, its size and power apparent in the casual motion. Nok struggled to turn and look, but his eyes could only squint as they began to burn with cold and his muscles locked up.

 

Helpless. Weak. Powerless...

 

((2))

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

As the Sith (Chaos below, an actual Sith!) finished, Ekros felt the world slide out from under him. The Sith were invading. Nok had allied with the Sith, and was doing so openly if this warrior was to be of any gauge. Hell, he apparantly was a Sith now! Everything added up. The haste of the meeting, Nok's forthrightness, the quick agreement to the Moff's estate as a meeting ground, the guests...

 

Oh god, the guests.

 

They weren't just here to sign over the planet and expand their respective fortunes. Each of them represented or came from a significant faction on Kuat. What happened in the next few minutes would determine how those factions were treated by the Sith. This wasn't a negotiation, or even a chance to plead and profit. This was a trial, and Kuat's nobility was before the judge. Whatever was said here would be known eventually to all of the Sith Empire, and to its emperor, and it would flavor or taint (depending on the case) the relationship between the conquered and the conquerers.

 

Of course, as expected, Lady Hyla couldn't keep her damned mouth shut.

 

"Excuse me?" she said, more calm than Ekros would have expected, but he could see her dark knuckles turned bone white as she clenched the arm of the overstuffed chair her bony form nestled into. "You bring invasion to our door and then expect us to kiss your boots to line our pockets? Do think so little of us that you expect us to abandon our loyalty at the sound of a few sirens and the promise of a few credits? I don't know what kind of whores you're used to *Darth Akheron*, but the kuati nobility do not roll over for every bully to enter our hyperspace lanes." Hyla straightened, her emotional explosion a few moments ago forgotten, her pride and refinement on full display. "I think if you intend for us to respect anything you have to say, than you had better respect us in turn."

 

Lord Ekros had to admit he was impressed, even as he sidled away from her. No matter what Hyla's habits or tantrums, she could be a true daughter of Kuat when the moment called her to. Confident, intelligent, and demanding of respect and attention, she might be mocked but never ignored.

 

Unfortunately he feared that she'd played this one wrong.

 

The fact that she hadn't spat in the man's face or walked out was a good sign. It meant she was taking this seriously and realized the danger to her fortune, power, and underlings. Unfortunately she'd tried to protect them by putting herself and the Sith on equal footing, treating him as she might an upstart equal. And Lady Hyla didn't always treat her equals cordially, upstart ones less so. That whore comment had probably been going too far.

 

Ekros noted Lord Ferion moving away just as he did. His face was pale, but Ekros could see as the man's eyes darted that he was thinking rapidly. The next few seconds would be interesting.

[Krath Apothos]

Lord Ekros watched in silence as this Sith silenced Lady Hyla. He watched as her eyes bulged, her mouth opening and closing breathlessly like a landed fish. He watched her proud back buckle as the Sith talked on, quiet and polite. Hyla's eyes shifted through a dozen impressions in seconds. First confusion, then realization, then fear, then understanding of her own mistake. As the veins in her eyes stood out in stark contrast, he saw the decision in her eyes.

 

And he made his own.

 

As the Sith stepped back, Ekros pulled out his holdout blaster, and pushed it against Hyla's head.

 

"What are you doing?!" Ferion sputtered.

 

"Come on Ferion, you and I both know Hyla's never going to go with this. She'll play along, then send this guy an exploding gift basket or something over the top like that." Ekros smiled as Hyla's eyes widened. "Didn't think anyone knew about that? Really Hyla, if you're going to kill your servants maybe be a little more subtle about it?" Ekros looked up and met the Sith's eyes. "Hyla is a schemer, but she's a rigid one. She won't stop fighting you until she's dead, just because she wants her 'golden age' back. Me? I'm more flexible. Ferion? He's an idiot. An influential idiot, but an idiot. You might need an object lesson to get through to him." Hiding his fear and pasting his best grin on his face, Ekros glanced down at Hyla for emphasis.

 

"Do you want to do it, or should I...Master?"

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Nok’s silent scream as the beast’s mental fangs pierced him sent waves into the Force like a ship crashing into an ocean. The fangs cut past his lies, his denial, and his illusions to the heart of what he was.

 

Afraid. Deep in the darkest, pulsing, quivering mass of his soul, he was afraid. Nok experienced every time he woke up in a cold sweat, every time he raised the heat when a chill ran through his blood, and every time he ignored it and pretended it wasn’t there. He experienced it all, in a moment and an eternity. Nok wasn’t powerful. He was a child hiding under blankets, a grub burying itself in the dirt to hide from the boots. This thing was stronger. Better. Superior. And it would devour him, and that was the way of the universe.

 

The icy spikes driving into him towards his core brought a sudden flash of memory. He remembered a beast, with a grinning skull-like face. He remembered the searing pain in his side as the creature’s claws tore into him. The howlrunner. A beast.

 

He remembered slitting its throat. He remembered cutting its head off and holding it in triumph. That feeling of victory, of passing the test with blood and knife. He and both howlrunners had stood against the other, and he’d been found stronger.

 

As if a line had been thrown to him, Nok remembered other scenes. He saw businessmen cowering beneath him as he slit their throats. He saw factories exploding while he lounged under an umbrella. He saw videos of assassins butchering their way through dinner parties at his direction. A silent master, an iron hand, and a shaper of the universe. Nok was all these things and more. Weak? How could he be weak? He was a ruler, a puppetmaster, a Sith! This...animal couldn’t even imagine Nok’s power.

 

That’s it.

 

Nok reached out and grasped the creature, grinning, his face melting and twisting into the skull of the howlrunner Nok had on a pedestal on the Bleeding Edge.

 

”You think you’re better than me? You think you’re strong? Let me show you strength!”

 

Instead of driving deeper into the beast’s mind, Nok pulled it deeper into his, pushing it towards his own memories. The first time he’d flown and seen the stars from the bow of a ship. The countless planets he’d walked across. Wastelands where his own industrialist interests killed wildlife in floods of rot and death. Worlds bent and broken under his whim, his command, and his design.

 

Then he showed the beast squadrons of droids, assassins, mercenaries and saboteurs, all working on his credits. All belonging to him. He showed this beast what he was. A fulcrum of the universe. This creature was a speck before him.

 

((3))

[Krath Apothos]

Nothing existed but Nok’s silent scream. And fear.

No time passed here. No relief came. The fear didn’t ebb or flow. It pressed, constant. It flowed through him, brushing away his thoughts before they could form like cobwebs tossed into a roaring river. Nok knew…something. Something beyond this but…the fear.

 

And the scream.

______________________

Nok didn’t wake up, so much as simply become aware. His face burned, but his body couldn’t move to cradle it. It didn’t seem important anyway. His lungs barely shuddered, his breathing shallow. The metallic smell of blood stained the air. Nok opened his eyes.

He realized his eyes were open.

No…

 

Blind.

 

Nok laughed, or tried as his lungs woke up. A sick combination of a chortle and vomiting swallowed the smell of blood with the hot stench of bile and the fungus he’d had for lunch. The whole situation…it was so ridiculous. Nok had stumbled upon…what? Some kind of force sensitive flushed pet? Then he’d accidentally entangled with it psychically, and THEN he’d gotten his rear handed to him by the legless beast? He’d been blinded by a kriffing animal!

Despite the sharp pain it sent through him, he kept laughing. And laughing. And laughing.

His chuckles turned into gasps interspersed with silent laughs, blood streaming down his face like tears of laughter. He stumbled to his feet. The Force swirled around him him, buoying him up as the pain, fear, and laughter blended into something dark and twisted.

 

Turning like a compass, Nok found his master's presence in the Force, and...the beast.

 

The words came back, bleary and disjointed. The beast had asserted its power over him, communicating not with words but directly, through ideas. It wanted his master. It wanted power.

 

It wants to be a sith

 

Nok's laughter grew into a wet bellow, blood and spittle flying as the pain of his shredded face grew near overwhelming.

 

Follow me beast... he projected to the creature, the act instinctual like flexing a finger.

 

Nok coiled on his own mind, forming a corner hidden from the serpent.

 

And we shall see who devours who in the end

[Krath Apothos]

Nok stumbled up the hill, hearing the serpent trailing behind him. More than that, he could feel the creature's presence, like a dark, black pit starkly outlined on a snowy plain. But if the serpent was a pit, then the surface of this world had been hit by a meteor shower. Pain and fear assaulted Nok from all sides. It had begun as a brushing across his skin, but as he delved deeper into his Force-tapped senses, the gentle touch turned insistent, his mind growing more sensitive. He was adapting.

 

All around he could feel the echo of pain, every individual call cutting off and ending in silence. Some petered off into nothing, others sharply ended, but they all died in the end. Their pain was a precursor to their death. It didn't save them. It meant nothing.

 

Not my pain, he thought. As if to accentuate the point, Nok stumbled and crashed to the ground, face in the dirt. Agony burned through him, but it seemed distant. Unimportant.

 

No. Not unimportant. Not for me.

 

Not for a sith.

 

Nok breathed in, his ragged gasp peppering his body with spikes of hot pain. He remembered his lessons, how he'd felt that first time he'd managed telekinesis. He remembered how he'd expected the Force to be there for him to grasp, and how it had responded. Not to his desire, but to his expectation. The Force existed to be ruled.

 

Nok let the pain in, let himself wake up enough from his stupor to truly feel the agony of his body, and then he let it push him further and further into the Force. In a sensation becoming familiar, he let himself unravel into the Force.

 

As his pain pulsed through his body, each pulse created ripples in the Force. The Force he was a part of. He could feel it pass the rock he'd tripped over, pass over the grass, the dirt, and the serpent.

 

Nok smiled, and kept walking. I can use pain to see. That's interesting.

 

Perhaps this is an opportunity. A chance to drive myself to new heights. Best way to teach a man to manage money is to take it away after all.

 

Nok stopped at a rise. He could feel...plants. Tall ones. Trees? Yes, trees. And cobbled paths. He was in a garden. But there was so much wreckage. And where was his master? Nok had come following his presence, but he couldn't find it now. Where had...

 

It was so close he almost missed it. There, at the bottom of a crater. A single ember, small but white-hot. A power and presence that transcended pain and rage. Pure power.

 

He's so weak...

 

Nok considered. He considered it for several long moments.

 

No. Not yet.

 

Nok fumbled for his data pad.

 

"Pilot...(cough)...bring the ship to my location. We need to leave.

 

And prep the med bay."

[Krath Apothos]

Nok's lip curled in a sneer for only a second before he smoothed it away, his face relaxing into a practiced calm hiding his pain and disgust. His master had been beaten, and thoroughly. His master's rage still burned, the ripples the emotion made in the Force coating the landscape in sharp detail like a paper thin gauze. But his rage had not saved him. His power had not saved him. Was this what Nok wanted?

 

No. This warrior, this honor-bound fool was not what Nok sought to be. He was weak. Though, not powerless. Nok could still sense his immense power. He was weak because he let himself be controlled by his rage, by his warrior code, by his bull-headed honor and lust for battle. He was weak the way a rancor was weak. Fierce but unsubtle and unrefined.

 

...and unwitting.

 

Yes. He would still be useful. He could teach Nok how to control the Force, how to wield it and rule it as a tool. And through it he would rule everything connected to it. All life, all creation would dance at his hand. But Nok wouldn't be so foolish as to think he would do it Akheron's way. If one fact was clear from historical accounts of the Sith, it was that the direct approach never worked for them. Armies fell, dark masters were betrayed and slain, and through it all the Jedi weathered their precious rage.

 

Until a certain Sith named Palpatine came to power.

 

Palpatine hadn't let his rage control him. From what little Nok knew of the infamous emperor, he had been a man of composure and cunning. A trickster, a scholar, and a mystic all in one, the emperor who had ruled the galaxy did so subtly. His plans had not been from a man of wrath. They'd come from a man of thought. A man...like Nok.

 

Nok smiled. He couldn't help it. He'd just realized that he was the only player on a game board the size of the galaxy. This serpent was a simple creature, desiring only to satisfy his hunger. The right incentive would be all it took to keep it in line and directed at Nok's enemies. And Nok's so called master was little better. Warriors loved their own prowess most of all. All Nok had to do was play the dutiful student and his "teacher" would eat it up and give Nok his knowledge. He'd try to mold Nok into an idol, a miniature version of his own honorable idiocy. And when Nok had all he wanted from the man...well, that would be an interesting day.

 

Of course...it could be interesting right now.

 

Yes...he could use this situation to his advantage. If it worked the way he thought it might, the serpent would be cowed, or at least intrigued enough to behave. Perhaps the serpent might even learn to respect Nok's cunning and appreciate the importance of wit as well as strength.

 

And if it went the other way, well then Nok would be free to seek a master more to his disposition.

 

Serpent... Nok mentally called to the creature, pulling back the veil on his thoughts. Images and impressions formed his message better than words. My master is weak. We must protect him. He's vulnerable. Nok tinged his thoughts with fear, fear for his master and fear that Snake might attack. Fake fear yes, but Nok had been faking emotions for decades. That was just good business.

 

Now to see if the serpent took the bait. Would he attack a weakened creature, assured as he was by Nok that his master was no threat? Or would he hold? Nok didn't think it likely that the serpent would catch on to Nok's game until it was too late. After all, how could an language-less animal left alone it's whole life possibly pick up on the concept of lying?

[Krath Apothos]

He didn't take the bait. More cautious than I thought. Dangerous...well, we've got a lot of time together serpent.

 

As the medics rushed to assist his master, Nok turned back.

 

"I'm afraid my defeat was not at the hands of the imperials, but at the...hands of this creature you see before me. This serpent is Force sensitive, and intelligent. He does not understand our language, but it seems we've formed a mental bond of sorts. I think he might be of use, and possibly a potential fellow." Nok grinned wickedly. "He certainly has the temperament for it."

 

As for what I learned...I learned much, but I understand little of it. I am blind, but I see your rage and pain, along with my own. I've seen the depths of the mind, the depths of hunger, the depths of...fear." He shook his head, gritting his teeth, his breathing turning rapid and shallow. "I am weak..." Images flashed through Nok's mind. Memories of slitting throats, bullying bankers, and turning landscapes into slagged wastelands under his credits. His wit. His plan. His will. The will of a lord.

 

"But I have seen my strength. Yes, that is what I've learned. I am weak and strong."

 

Nok cocked his head. Perhaps it was the searing pain creeping past his shock-fueled Force gates in his mind, or his master's bloodied form, but he felt insolent, and couldn't manage to think of a good reason to be cautious.

 

He looked Darth Akheron up and down.

 

"Master...what have-"

 

The next word learned cut off in a gargle as his throat seized. The pain he'd ignored made itself known forcefully. Nok's body clenched and wracked, and he dropped to his knees, his already muddied robe sloshing in the muck. Dimly he heard medics shouting, and his body being lifted.

[Krath Apothos]

Nok's eyes opened, but only darkness greeted him.

 

...Still blind...

 

No...not entirely

 

Nok could not see, but he could sense the Force as it rippled across the ground around him, across the bodies writhing in cots, around the medics tending to the patients, through the crates of supplies emptied as fast as they could be replenished. Every soldier was a beacon, their pain and fear radiating ripples in the fabric of the Force for Nok to "see" by. An entire tent of lanterns only Nok could see. Their feelings were sharp and raw, but simple. The pain of injury. The fear of death. Beneath it for many of them, Nok could sense a deeper wound throbbing, a scar on their mind.

 

Some of them won't recover, at least not in their minds...

 

But...his pain was muted. Barely a tremor in the Force. Had he been alone, he'd have been utterly blind.

 

That is an interesting drawback. But why? I was poisoned and mauled. I should be screaming with the rest. The thought slid through his mind like oil, impossible to grasp. Nok opened his mouth, and worked his tongue. It felt like a lump of cotton.

 

Ah. Medication.

 

Heh, being a sith apprentice must warrant better care, even in a field hospital.

 

Like one string catching on another, that thought brought his master to his mind. He extended his senses, but the burning rage of Darth Akheron was nowhere near him, and none of the surrounding bodies matched his shape, and the last Nok had "seen" Akheron the warrior's shape had been...distinctive. Either his master was unconscious or so far away Nok couldn't sense even his powerful emotions.

 

Nok struggled to his feet, instinctively reaching for the Force to strengthen his noodle muscles. Even so, his body trembled as he stood. Touching his face, his fingers traced the edges of a bacta-patch.

 

That won't bring back my eyes...Not even sure if I had my eyes if I'd be able to see... The memory of what that serpent creature had done came flooding back in disjointed shards. Like bursting a boil, it had brought his inner fears out and scalded his psyche with them. He couldn't see, but not just because of his eyes. The deepest, nightmare choked corner of his mind didn't WANT to see anymore. Nok knew it instinctively. Barring some miracle, he'd never see again.

 

...Then I won't see with my eyes. With what I will have at my fingertips, that's a pittance to pay.

 

"My lord!" One of the medics had noticed him. "You shouldn't be up!"

 

"Where is my ship? The Bleeding Edge?"

 

"I..."

 

It astounded Nok. He could sense all of the little doubts and fears playing through the medic's mind. He feared...reprisal? Yes. This was the timid undercurrent of the fear of the future, touched with the sharp edge of the primal fear for one's life. He feared reprisal, likely of what Darth Akheron might do to the lowly medic if anything happened to Nok.

 

"It is alright. My master wishes for me to return to my ship," Nok lied. The man's emotions began to wane and falter. Interesting that Nok couldn't sense the man's relief or puzzlement. Only the fear...

 

"Well, it's at the landing platform outside the base, that way." The man's fear spiked again as he no doubt realized Nok couldn't see him point. Or at least, Nok shouldn't have been able to see him point, but the pain of the soldiers and the man's own fear was more than enough to show Nok the entire tent and several of the structures outside.

 

"Thank you." Nok nodded and shuffled out of the tent, his body unable to manage more.

 

I will need to learn better how to draw on the Force to bolster my body if this is going to become a habit.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Nok found the Bleeding Edge after a few wrong turns and a few face-plants. Once away from the tent of agonized soldiers, Nok's ability to see became more and more hampered. People rushing past him felt fear and pain and anger, but nothing as bright as the injured. The fear of punishment, the dull throbbing bruises of battle, and the brief flashes of irritation that came with daily life simply weren't enough to give Nok a clear picture of everything around him. The drugs in his system meant he couldn't use his own emotions. Even after face-planting for a third time, he couldn't muster more than mild annoyance.

 

As he finally boarded his ship, he was greeted by one of his security droids. He couldn't figure out which from the voice, and he realized that he'd need more than droids around him if he hoped to adapt to this new "sight" of his. Once inside his ship, the world went from obscured to completely hidden. He was forced to use his droid as a guide to his chamber, the shame ironically giving him the tiniest of ripples to see by, barely enough to keep him from putting his foot into a wall.

 

Once in his overstuffed chair, he sighed, and relaxed.

 

What now? I've been crippled. My master is in pieces. I've got a serpent with its fangs in my mind. I've...failed.

 

NO! Nok shook his head, clenching his teeth.

 

I am Nok Morliss! Feeling sorry for myself!? Nok spat, and barely registered the whir of the cleaning droid moving to wipe it away. I am no cripple. I am...I AM A SITH!

 

Nok's anger bubbled up, straining against the drugs suppressing his emotions. The room's shapes flickered into view for a moment, but Nok couldn't sustain it, and soon it all went dark again.

 

These drugs are depressing me. Best to wait them out.

 

Nok had almost sunk into a deep sleep, when the intercom chimed.

 

"'Master, you have an incoming call from BD" the pilot droid's obsequious voice rattled off in a monotone.

 

Nok was tempted to dismiss it, but leaned forward instead.

 

"Route it here."

 

The sound of the hologram projector was Nok's only indication that the droid had obeyed. He couldn't see, and even if he could he doubted his new sight would perceive holograms.

 

Nok knew what he should be seeing right now. The translucent image of a silver-plated and decidedly feminine droid.

 

"Master Morliss?" the personal assistant droid asked in a low voice. If Nok knew her (and he should considering he'd selected her programming package) she was cocking her head and swinging her hips. He had considered having that "social" aspect portion of her programming removed, but ultimately left it in when he saw how people underestimated her. An advantage was an advantage, no matter how unprofessional.

 

"Go ahead BD," he said, giving her the correct greeting. Even if someone were to mimic his calling ID and replicate his holographic image, BD would refuse to give out information without that sentence.

 

"Master Morliss, are you well?" Her tone was dripping with concern. Nok would have to dial back that aspect of her communicative programming. She was laying it on a little thick.

 

"I'm fine. Proceed as if nothing was different."

 

"Yes sir," she said, her tone immediately turning clinical. "I'm calling because you've been out of communication, and several items have come up that need your attention. First, Offworld started construction on their new facility in the Roche Asteroid Field."

 

"That was fast even for them."

 

"Our analysts suspect it's mostly prefab. The sturdier structures will be built over them later."

 

"Hmm...that's verpine home country. How'd Offworld convince the verpine to let prospectors in?"

 

"Offworld's news release states the facility will be entirely crewed by local verpine, with only a few subject matter experts brought in to manage and supervise. There's also a payment plan in place to sell the facility to the local hive in five to seven years, depending on variations in profits."

 

"That's generous of them." Nok's lip curled. Even with the drugs fouling his mind, he could smell Offworld's play.

 

Verpine were notorious tinkerers, compulsively taking things apart and putting them back together working better than before. The highly intelligent and innovative insect species improved technology as a hobby. And now Offworld would have their own R&D team working at miner's wages, all under the guise of empowering them. Those 'subject matter experts' would feed the verpine Offworld mining tech modifications back to the home office. And once they'd bled what they wanted from the bugs, the verpine would spend their hard earned money to buy the facility, giving Offworld one last windfall.

 

"Alright, I'm not losing the tech advantage to Offworld because some bugs didn't read the fine print. Let's give the verpine a bad taste for big companies.

Call up my personal renovators and send them to one of the abandoned mining facilities on Peragus II. Have them do the place up like a functioning Offworld mining camp, then remove the safety covers from the fuel coils. Take some footage and release it to that independent news outlet we picked up. Umm..."

 

"Free Stars Reporting."

 

"Right. Once that's done and the footage is on the holonet, send a saboteur to cause an 'accident' at the Roche facility. Contact the usual scumbags and see who's interested, and promise them a hefty bonus if they manage to kill any verpine with the sabotage."

 

"Yes master. Anything else?"

 

"Have our legal team draw up a deal. Same as Offworld's contract, but give the verpine a bigger pay cut. Nova Acquisitions will move in once Offworld moves out."

 

"Master? You intend to use your decoy company?"

 

"They're a small player and barely scraping by, so Offworld won't suspect them of this kind of action. And they've won awards for safe work environments, so the verpine will be more open to them."

 

"Understood master. And the saboteur, should I hire them under your usual moniker?"

 

"Yes, with the standard spoofed IDs and encryptions."

 

"Of course. I'll handle it immediately master. There's one other item. One of our contacts discovered historical data in an old archive on Carida, indicating a possible Force related presence on Garn."

 

Nok leaned forward, pulse quickened.

 

"Artifacts?"

 

"Potentially yes."

 

"Send me the relevant data immediately."

 

"Of course master. Anything else?"

 

Nok's mind whirled. "...Send a shuttle to Garn. Droid pilots and crew only. Load the cargo with slaves. Five should do, with shock collars."

 

If BD was confused by the request, it didn't show in her relaxed, confident tone. "Of course master. I'll see to it."

 

The faint buzz of the projector disappeared, the call over.

 

Oh this could be interesting. It had been ages since Nok had gotten a lead on any Force-related history, and most of what he did find turned out to just be ruins. But if this wasn't...

 

Nok would need backup.

 

...The serpent. Yes. The serpent might serve.

 

Snake? Nok sent his thoughts echoing down the connection to the serpent's mind. Snake? Would you care to join me on a hunt of sorts?

[Krath Apothos]

He's on the ship? But how...

 

Best not to think about it.

 

"Pilot, plot a course for Garn. Take off immediately."

 

"Yes master," the droid's tinny voice crackled over the intercom.

 

Nok leaned back in his chair, letting himself feel a twinge of pride as he could only barely perceive the ship's motion as it took off. The inertial dampeners on the Bleeding Edge had cost him four times more than the next leading brand. In a way, the waste of money was more important than any tangible benefit. It was a display of power. He could afford to spend frivolously with sums that would feed mining colonies for a month. A careless purchase decision of his had more weight than every agonizing choice in a year of a working man's life.

 

The step of a giant compared to the life of an ant...

 

"Bring up the data on Garn. Read aloud."

 

The onboard computer beeped in response. Voice commands. Another purchase, though this one turned out to not be so frivolous.

 

As the computer read off the articles and reports on the planet, Nok considered his immediate future. Darth Akheron...he thought so differently from Nok.

 

Am I meant to be a warrior? Is that where the strength to take what I want lies?

 

A chuckle escaped his lips immediately.

 

No. Let those fools swing their sabers around and make targets of themselves. A fool who seeks a fight for the sake of one will die like every other gladiator and mercenary in history. Alone and forgotten.

 

Perhaps the way of the assassin is more suited to my talents?

 

Yes, that appealed to him. He remembered the feeling of striking down a helpless competitor with his knives. The pride in outwitting an unsuspecting enemy, concealed and waiting for just the right moment to end them. To take someone's life in a way they couldn't hope to stop or even see coming, that was power.

 

"...Settling on Garn after splintering from the Jedi Order, the Order of the Terrible Glare pursued new applications of Force manipulation. Records indicate the majority of these were illusory techniques, though several mentions of research into the binding of souls have been found, and..."

 

What? Binding of souls...

 

Nok shuddered. Not out of fear or disgust, but out of something else. The idea of binding a person's essence touched something deep inside.

 

To take someone like that...to take everything they are and hold them. To own someone like that. That is more than killing.

 

THAT is power.

 

Yes, this trip is what I need. This will be illuminating.

[Krath Apothos]

The Black Bracer dropped out of hyperspace, an ugly bulk of a ship blotting out the stars behind it. Seconds behind it, The Broken Bullet and The Moon Beetle followed, taking cover behind their heavily armored lead ship.

 

On the bridge of The Black Bracer, Commander Jaden Jorus grimaced.

 

"They're kriffing everywhere! Where's the...wait...officer, pull up an image of the Hammerhead, combat zone 33-A"

 

The holographic image of a Hammerhead-class cruiser filled the space above the command console.

 

That's...that's the Divine Justice! Kolchak! That stitched-up scrap of imperial boot-leather is here!?

 

The sounds of turbolaser fire echoed in Jorus's memory, calling up starkly detailed memories of an old asteroid base on the edge of the galaxy. It was the noise that had woken him up, and for a few seconds he'd thought the boys we're playing a holovid in the next room. When he'd gone to shout at them to keep it down, he'd seen that same ship bearing down, turrets blazing. No hailing, no warning, just death raining on the base. The hangar and the medical bay had already been shredded in the first salvo, and as he watched the mess hall dissolved into glowing scraps of metal and scorched rations drifting in space. 

 

Jorus had been one of the only ones to survive, and the only one not to get captured and executed by that hatchet of a commander.

 

Alright Kolchak...I've got the bigger ship now. Let's see you scurry.

 

"Prepare missile salvos," he called as Our Velvet Ire dropped out of hyperspace behind the cover of The Black Bracer and activated its stealth tech. "Launch fighters. All gunners prepare for a tight firing theater. I aim to scrape some paint. I'm sending you targets. Commence firing on my mark!"

 

 

  Hide contents

 

Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |20/30|

 

 

Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9|

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |9/9|

 

 

Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9|

 

 

[Krath Apothos]

Jorus grimaced as more rebel ships dropped out of hyperspace.

 

"Sir! Our long range communications have been jammed! We can't contact our reinforcements."

 

Smart, throw up a smokescreen. But I can see you now.

"Beetle and Bullet, give them a full salvo! Captain Zymo, start lining up your attack run!"

He turned to the navigator.

"Get us in close. Let's give them something to shoot at."

The Black Bracer lurched forward, even as The Moon Beetle and The Broken Bullet lit up the starfield with the firefly glow of a swarm of missiles arcing towards their targets.

 

 

 

  Hide contents

 

Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |20/30|

 

 

Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9|

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |9/9|

 

 

Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9|

 

[Krath Apothos]

"Woo! Yeah! How's it feel when the sky falls on you Kolchak?! Hope you've made your peace, cause it's Judgement Day you karking starch-sucker, and this time I get to be the undertaker!"


Jorus looked around at the staring officers and bridge crew.


"Oh I'm sorry, should I postpone the battle for vespers? Watch your kriffing stations! Damage reports people, give me damage reports!"


The crew, jolted back into action by their commander's vocal whip crack, rattled off data. The missile salvo had successfully pummeled the Divine Justice, and now its shields were holding on by a thread. Apparently the Black Bracer had been too unappealing a target to engage (or just not worth the ammo), and so Jorus's ships had gone unmolested as they closed in. In a few more minutes they'd cut those rebels off and turn them into blood and slag.

"Adjust formation per my instructions and advance," he said as he keyed vectors into the command console. "Fire salvo on my command." He grinned. "Glory to Varaka."

The crew exploded in a roar. Jorus hadn't heard cheers that excited for the six pod crash of the Nal Hutta Championship Podrace 12 years ago.

"...Fire!"
 

Edited June 11, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

The starfield erupted in explosions as the ships dealt death to each other. Corvette after corvette shattered into slag and debris as the bombardment. Jorus grimaced as reports came in of a Sith Cruiser blasting apart under a concentrated barrage.

 

"Sir! The Divine Justice's shields are down!"

 

"And Zyro?"

 

"He reports that he doesn't appear to have been spotted. He's still lining up his attack vector."

 

"Good, keep me apprised."

 

"Sir, communications are online, we're receiving tactical telemetry from our allies."

 

Jorus stared down at the data flooding in, then nodded.

 

"Move along this heading, and order Moon Beetle and Broken Bullet to fire along these vectors."

 

"Yes sir!"

 

  Hide contents

 

Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |8/30|

 

 

Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9|

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |9/9|

 

 

Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9|

 

 

Edited June 25, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

The barrage of turbolaser fire transformed into rippling blasts along the Black Bracer's shields.

 

On the bridge, the dull thuds rhythmically boomed through the room, punctuating the reports being called out from stations.

 

"Shields dropping...40% and falling."

 

"Sir, reporting direct hits from the Moon Beetle and Broken Bullet. Debris is disrupting our scanners, but no corvettes appear to have survived the barrage."

 

"The Divine Justice. Status?"

 

"Unclear, but it suffered heavy damage sir."

 

Jorus's mouth twisted. The rebel's reinforcements brought them some much needed firepower, but the superior command and quality of the imperial fleet was leaving rebels dead in droves. The wreckage of ships and the corpses of crewmen hung scattered in the void between fleets, slowly turning as they careened into the infinite.

 

Would the rebels fight to the bloody end or run?

 

"Push us forward to sector 1148. Let's give them a reason to run. Prepare for updated targeting priorities."

 

[Krath Apothos]

"Sir...the fighter carrier is gone! Our Velvet Ire has completely destroyed it!"

 

"Keep up the barrage! We're not out of this yet!"

 

Still...how much longer will they keep this up?

 

Jorus didn't care for the firepower arrayed against them. The Black Bracer's timely positioning had denied the enemy a straightforward assault several times, but the armored hulk wasn't invincible. And that star destroyer...that thing was heavily armed and shielded beyond any standard imperial vessel.

 

The flaming wreckage of an enemy fighter that had strayed too close to the Black Bracer exploded into shrapnel as it passed by the bridge, briefly illuminating the room in orange light. Jorus grimaced, but didn't react.

 

"New coordinates and targeting priorities, prepare to broadcast."

 

 

[Krath Apothos]

"Commander Jorus...enemy fleet is jumping to hyperspace! Full retreat!"

 

Jorus smiled as the bridge cheered. The Empire had won. The rebels-

 

"Commander! The Lightsbane! It's...it's been destroyed!"

 

"What!?"

 

"A ship evaded our sensor sweeps and assaulted it. We're receiving orders to pursue."

 

"Pass the orders onto the Broken Bullet and Moon Beetle."

 

Outside the viewport, the shattered remains of the imperial ship spun through space, framing the stealth cruiser in debris.

 

"Destroy it."

[Krath Apothos]

• Wow...this was a hard one. On the one side, you have a Sith duelist whose preferred style is pure aggression, enhancing his blows and speed with the Force. On the other side you have a Jedi of equal rank whose preferred style is Soresu, the defensive style a Jedi would pick to repel such aggression. Both sides played their preferred styles to the hilt, with Mordecai throwing everything at his enemy while Hunan stayed on the defense, only mixing in a few attacks here and there as he instead played the long game. Mordecai upped the stakes by seemingly getting stronger with each injury as he channeled the pain into his attacks. Also, both sides did an excellent job of respecting the other. This felt like a respectful duel between two competent RPers, with no bad feelings on either side.

 

• I would have liked to see some acknowledgement from Hunan that Mordecai was enhancing his blows with the Force. It wasn't heavily emphasized in Mordecai's posts till near the end, but it would have been good to see that it was having an effect. Mordecai also didn't do much to acknowledge his opponent or his skill. These aren't requirements, but I would have enjoyed seeing what each opponent thought of the other's unique/unusual attributes.

 

• Just as an aside, neither side godmodded that I could tell. I don't believe Hunan's positioning of Mordecai was godmodding, particular since Mordecai made it clear he was going straight for Hunan and was therefore leaving Hunan to control their positioning through strategic retreating.

 

• I'll say it again, this one was hard. Hunan's sacrifice of his own knee to create a trap for the Sith, a trap built up over the fight, was excellent and exactly the gambit I'd expect to see from a Soresu using Jedi. Mordecai's pure aggression and constant flurry of attacks, turning pain into power, was the blend of passion and skill that make Sith such monsters in a fight. The turret that Hunan dropped wasn't mentioned previously in the duel or preceding posts (at least nowhere I could find), which I frown a little at. It works better here because Mordecai was so single-minded on attacking Hunan and acknowledged he didn't care what kind of trap Hunan was setting up, which was entirely in character for the Sith and his style.

Final ruling…

 

TIE

 

I'm not a big fan of ties in duels like these, but here I didn't really see another way, including a sudden death round. Both players did an excellent job playing to their character' strengths and staying in character. Hunan was the more creative of the duelists with his trap, and Mordecai's willingness to acknowledge that his character wouldn't metagame caution when his player knew a trap was coming but would instead continue to throw himself at his enemy was a maturity you don't always see in duels.

 

It will be up to each player how they leave the area of the duel.

 

Excellent writing on both sides.