Mechis III

[Gren Sairdonga]

Gren arrived outside the command center late. He'd spent a great deal of time organising Alliance survivors into a temporary gathering point. Until they knew exactly what was going on he didn't want them scattered around open to another assualt by those creatures... Or any enterprising Imperials. As he'd worked he slowly noticed changes. Old memories coming back... Of his family. His father. He had once been an Antarian Ranger. So had Gren, until he left after his fathers murder. The intervening years had been arduous. Then the Alliance came into it. Then it all went blank...

 

It seemed like his run in with the man, Geki had triggered something. Now he was on his to the Imperial Command center. The three surviving members of Sentinel Squadron flying wing, One in a fighter the other two in a shuttle.

 

Landing outside the Imperial Command Center, Gren disembarked, leaving the three pilots to organise medical aid of some sort to the surviving Alliance soldiers. They didn't have a lot of medical equipment in the shuttles they had escaped with.

 

Going straight to the room all the officers were gathered in he walked in quietly. Entering at the back and taking a seat. Unseen by most. He'd speak to the Admiral after.

[Jidai Geki]

*The hatch of a battered escape pod is ripped open with the Force, hovers in the air for a moment, and is thrown to the ground. Geki follows suit, leaping to the ground.

 

His mind is afire with the genocide of Corellia, its sheer deliciousness. Despite its palatability to the Sith, it was still not entirely desirable. After all, it was not he or one of his allies who had brought about the destruction of the system, but an unknown, exterior force. For the time being, the rules have changed.

 

Geki makes his way to the command centre of Mechis III, sweeping arrogantly past Imperial and Rebel troops alike until he stood before Commander Gilleon Pleed and the Rebel commander, Starlisk. Geki grins at Starlisk, his eyes glittering beneath his mask, and he gives a mockingly courtly bow.

 

'Commander Starlisk, a pleasure. Regrettable that the Rebels and Imperials are unable to continue their little feud, but it seems we have bigger problems at the moment, what?'

 

*Geki turns to Pleed.*

 

'Commander. What's the situation?'

[Onderin Starlisk]

((Note: Onderin chose not to bring guards.))

 

Onderin was pleased by Pleed's helpfulness and manners. He had expected to come away with an agreement, but he had not, perhaps, expected it to be so easy. A pessimist would be suspicious, and many pessimists were to be found in the military, but Onderin had studied the war against the Arach'tar last time it had taken place enough to know how grave a threat they were dealing with.

 

And being Imperial didn't make a man deceptive by default.

 

The Admiral finally spoke. "Thank you for your helpfulness, commander. Transport will be appreciated," he said. "I look forward to meeting with Emperor...Faust to discuss the terms of an extended alliance between our two factions."

 

Onderin felt Gren Sairdonga enter the area through the Force, but resisted turning to greet him. He was trying to be inconspicious. Onderin hadn't seen him since he disappeared on Vjun, only recently hearing of his return. He looked forward to exchanging a few words with the man later.

 

Also entering was former Emperor Jidai Geki. Geki was one of the people Onderin considered the most evil, one of his biggest foes. But things were different now. He would have to get over his hate...for the good of the galaxy and all life within it.

 

So the Admiral bowed to Jidai Geki. "Greetings. Commander Pleed and I were just discussing the resolution of this battle and the immediate recuperation and unification of our respective forces."

[Vladimir Faust]

Pleed's reaction to Geki is a bit more formal, giving the former Emperor a short bow.

 

"We are honored to see you, sir," Pleed responds, a bit warily. "We're safe for now and rallying our defenses. The Emperor has declared a truce until we can figure out a way to fend off the invasion and--"

 

The commader is interrupted by a flickering wall screen on the back of the chamber, and the enter wall is taken up by Faust's brooding face, and his eyes, still icy blue and glittering with malice, now sparkle with a hateful, dead look. They flicker for a moment to the commander, who slinks into a corner, before going back to the Sith and the Rebel leader.

 

Admiral Starlisk, Geki, I am glad to catch both of you here and find you in good health.

 

Faust clears his throat and gets to the point.

 

It seems the Hutts are rallying people to Tattooine for a general meeting. I have dispatched a general representative there, (and unless he hurries up and departs, I shall send his head...) and I would urge you to do the same. Faust's eyes close for a second, seeming to catch the wavelengths of Geki's thoughts- the terrible inconvenience of Corellia falling to other hands and the embarassment of this current truce. Still, iron creeps back into Faust's voice. He would make these overgrown droids pay.

 

In the mean time, we need to work on survival. We are relatively defenseless at the moment and in need of every man and ship we can muster. Starlisk, though Mon Calamari is a lawfully aquired Imperial territory, I believe the circumstances warrant my letting you gain a certain.... temproary leave.... to beseach them to start building fleets at your behiest. They will be more tractable to your overtures than my own.

 

Faust gives a faint grin, also making it clear that once the threat passed, his iron fist would snap shut around Mon Calamari again. Faust's tone, hard and superior, makes the distinct impression of one not giving requests, but orders to the Rebel leader.

 

Geki, old friend, Faust entreats, you were active in the fight against these beasts last time. We shall need to know everything you remember about them. Starlisk, you shall bring us Jedi Master Kaipi, assuming she's still sane enough after our last meeting, for similar reasons. They are among the few veterans of the last war and will again be invaluable. Now if you will excuse me, Faust tips his head in a sort of bow. Grand Mistress Darkfire is expecting me.

 

With a none too savory grin, the communication flashes out.

[Onderin Starlisk]

Onderin stroked his goatee thoughtfully. He didn't like the tone Vladimir Faust had taken, but he did not see any apparent flaw in following the Emperor's suggestions. He would indeed need to go to Tatooine if he had any hopes of uniting the galaxy against the Arach'tar. He also didn't see a problem with following Faust's request that Master Kaipi meet with him.

 

It would be nice to have Mon Calamari back, if only temporarily. The Admiral still did not consider his decision to surrender the shipyards there a poor one. A lot of things could happen in a war, and that was one event he had been able to more or less control. It had saved lives. And it seemed that it would again, since the shipyards were still around for the Alliance's use now.

 

When Faust's image was gone, the Jedi Master turned back to Gilleon Pleed and gave a polite bow. "It seems, commander, that we each have a lot of work to do. I will take my leave of you now. Send the transports you offered to the location in which the Alliance forces have gathered."

 

Onderin then turned and left, motioning to Gren Sairdonga so that the other man would walk beside him. "It's good to see you, Gren," he said, for once choosing to use the man's first name. "But I must admit I wasn't expecting to see you. What happened?"

[Ary the Grey]

Aryian woke with a start, jarring awake and sitting straight up as the Force poured back into him, literally forcing him to consciousness.

 

But all the powers of the cosmos couldn't do anything about the pole directly in the path of his skull, which made it resonate with a lovely ping as it ricocheted off of it, giving him due cause to profane loudly. He didn't know where he was, the last thing he remembered was the mandalorian firing some sort of incendiary grenade he tried to protect Armiena from, before the Force flared and then...blackness. Some hint of the presence of his old master and a memory long forgotten...something about a propecy Ben'a told him about once.

 

But all of that paled in comparison to the pain echoing through his head at present moment. With some difficulty, he calmed his mind enough to tap into the Force once again and alleviate the pain slightly, but it still hurt. He always regretted never studying up on the healing arts. He hauled himself up, using the bar for support, and surveyed his surroundings. He was in an escape pod, which set off several red flags for him. One, what had happened that he needed to use an escape pod, and two, where was Armiena? The gaping hole in the side of the craft was also not a good sign, apparently this escape pod had sufferedsome sort of system failure just before landing. The dents and scrapes in his armor only proved what Aryian suspected, that he had been thrown around like a rag doll upon impact. Even his weapons had not been spared, one of his lightsabers was damaged and just by its look Aryina knew it wouldn't be working anytime soon. Fortunately...he was relatively okay. There were two particularly larger rips about the size of a finger on his armor, but the skin underneath was barely touched, a miracle to be sure.

 

There was only one thing to do, he knew, and if Imperials or Sith were searching for surivors planetside, it might give him away, though it was his only chance. He stretched out through the cosmic powers that were, extending his aura and senses as far as they could reach, searching for other Force sensitives, hoping he could get some sort of message out. Finally, after nearly an hour, he managed to sense Onderin, focusing his entire mind towards him

 

Onderin...I'm down, but not out yet...I'll make my way to you and continue this by your side. I don't know...what happened...to Armiena...

 

His thoughts faded out as Aryian spent himself trying to communicate with another person halfway around a planet. In his mind, the battle still raged on, he had no idea that a temporary truce had been declared. Grimly, he hefted the lightsaber he had left and began the long trek into the metal jungle that was Mechis III, keeping as low a profile as he could, both in the Force and from the various mechanical life forms. Though he knew eventually, they would find him, and it would be a long fight indeed.

 

But there was nothing...nothing that would stand in the way of him getting to his wife. And that was the one reason he kept going, kept pushing, kept striving. It was the main reason he still called himself Jedi. For her.

 

Armiena.

[Gren Sairdonga]

Gren wasn't paying much attention to the meeting. Ever since stepping into the room he'd been assualted by memories of his old life. A young man flying through a battered fleet. Looking for a cause. An experienced veteran flys through a battleifield, picking off enemy wherever he goes.

 

And all the while the voice was talking about the key. How he must find the key. Whatever the key was. But with the memories flooding back he was confident he'd find out. Turning back to the present he noted that the meeting appeared to have nearly finished. Looking around he saw Geki.

 

He remembered the madman now. He'd been so close to picking off that murderous fool when the Arach'Tar had to interfere. Now they were all unwilling allies. He didn't trust the Empire though. Not at all. He'd stay on guard and at the first hint of deception killing would ensue.

 

As the meeting concluded Gren fell into step beside his Admiral. Walking back towards the shuttle that was still their to transport medical supplies to the Alliance temporary compound.

 

"It's good to see you, Gren, But I must admit I wasn't expecting to see you. What happened?"

 

Gren was surprised... He didn't remember ever being called by his first name by the Admiral. Then again he didn't remember a lot of things about his past... What happened to him was one of them.

 

"I don't know Admiral. I don't remember much beyond the Battle of Csilla. Whatever happened to me damaged my memory badly enough that its only just now begining to come back... You'd probably know more about my last mission then I would, Sir."

 

It was the truth. He didn't remember a thing beyond what Colan and Allin had told him. He'd have to remember to thank those two. If they survived that battle.

 

"But I can tell you that most of the survivors o f the battle are gathered in a makeshift base. A fair number of fighters and shuttles managed to flee the enemy so we aren't totally defenceless. A few thousand personnel managed to get either to an escape pod or a shuttle so we're still collecting our people from all over the planet."

 

That was it as far as he knew. Gren didn't remember feeling this overwhelmed by an enemy before. Probably over a million people had died in that battle. Billions more at Corellia. When he finally figured out how to destroy these creatures...

 

"Orders Sir."

[Jidai Geki]

*Geki frowns at Faust's words. He hadn't been in the galaxy for the Arach'tar's last invasion, and so could offer no information on them. There was only one thing for sure- the galaxy was not theirs to destroy. The very arrogance of the situation demanded that they pay in blood.*

 

'Commander, I shall need a temporary craft- my vessel was on the Sword of Justice when those maniacs destroyed it. Were it not for the fact that they might wipe us all out I could almost admire them.'

 

*A bolt of pain shoots through Geki's shoulder, and he remembers the abortive duel with Sairdonga on the Sword.*

 

'I shall also need some medical attention. Turns out these Rebels still have their teeth, eh?'

[Onderin Starlisk]

Onderin furrowed his brow thoughtfully. Unfortunately, even he hadn't truly been aware of the purpose of Gren's mission to Vjun. He felt like he should remember what the purpose was, but couldn't quite place it. Well, it'd be something for Gren to do when they got back to Gala.

 

When the man asked for orders, Onderin hesitated for only a second. "We're being provided transport by the Empire. I want you to go back to Gala and look through the records to fill yourself in on the time you missed. I'm sure your memories are there, they only need to be found.

 

"After you've finished, go to Mon Calamari. Make sure the Empire made good on its word to hand it over, move our crews in, and start producing as many Star Cruisers as possible. This war is going to take every ounce of strength we have and drain galactic resources to an all-time low," Onderin said. "But there will be no tomorrow if we don't build a fleet."

 

He stopped walking and faced Gren. "And Gren, I'm promoting you to General in light of the upcoming conflict," the Admiral said. "You'd better get to work if you want to fit your rank."

 

The Jedi Master then turned away and made his way back to the grouped Alliance forces. He would need to touch bases with General Sikaot before he headed to Tatooine. But first the Empire would need to send their transports.

[Vladimir Faust]

A lambda class shuttle rises out of a lift and is readied by an Imperial command crew for Onderin's take off. There is much grumbling among them, finding distaste for this situation in aiding the rebels, but they comply with orders. A comm is sent to Onderin informing him of the shuttle's landing pad and where it may be reached. A second transport is arranged for the various rebel troops, with a comm sounding, giving a time for lift off and transport to Gala.

 

In the command room, Pleed, visibly initmidated by the former Emperor, complies at once. A medical crew is summoned at once to give bacta injections, as well as prepare a private shuttle for Geki's own use.

 

"Aye, sir," he states, "they have teeth, but that's why we can use them." The commander thinks a moment, missing the meaning of Geki's genocidal words of admiring the Arach'tar. "And who knows, after this war is one, we can probably find a way to 'salvage' their technology for our own ends. Mechis III could very easily be the alpha and the omega of this war..."

[Gren Sairdonga]

Gren was visibly shocked. A general! He hadn't expected that one. The former Antarian Ranger, Vigilante, Bounty Hunter, Murderer... Now a Alliance General? If only his father or any of his family were around to see it. Gren assumed they were on ToprawThe survivors of his family. But finding them was a battle for after the war.

 

Considering the Admiral's dissapearing form he promised himself that he wouldn't betray that mans trust in him... If only for the countless billions of lives at stake. Turning he made his way back to his fighter five fighters were gathered next to his own. Colan sitting in the cockpit grinning.

 

"Heck of a battle hey sir?"

 

"Indeed... And Colan. Thanks for trusting me. The pilot who was my wing at Mon Cal is still my wing."

 

Colan was visibly shocked. He hadn't know Gren was back.

 

"Hey... It's me! I'm always here for you Gren."

 

"Yeah I know. I remember. Anyway lets get to work. We're heading to Gala first. We'll be their for only a day or two at most then we're heading for Mon Calamari. Where it all started. We're going to bring about the end of it all there."

 

With that he hopped in his fighter and blasted off. Followed by the surviving pilots of his squadron.

 

The Sentinels

[Onderin Starlisk]

((I'll assume more than two transports were provided for the relocation of the "few thousand" Alliance survivors. ))

 

When Imperial transports arrived, Onderin boarded graciously. He had hoped that he wouldn't leave Mechis III until it was under Alliance control, but in light of the situation, this scenario was good enough. The fight had changed dramatically from its original conception.

 

But then he paused.

 

Aryian! he thought, the other Jedi Master's call coming to him. It was a call that was pained but determined. Something had happened to Armiena.

 

Reaching out through the Force, Onderin's mind touched that of Aryian Darkfire, and he headed straight to the cockpit. "We're not going straight to Gala," he told the pilot. "We need to make a quick stop, about halfway around the planet."

 

"Where to exactly?" the pilot asked.

 

The Admiral frowned. "Maybe I should just be the one to fly," he said, deep in concentration. Soon he was behind the controls, and he let the Force guide him to where Aryian Darkfire was trudging through the durasteel wilderness of Mechis III. He was a little beat up from the battle, but seemed in decent physical shape--still, it took an extremely egocentric man not to notice that there was something deeply troubling him.

 

Onderin brought the shuttle down by the other man and lowered the boarding ramp, then stepped outside. "Master Darkfire," he said respectfully. "Come aboard. There is much to be done."

 

((Sorry I didn't get to you in my last post. ))

[Ary the Grey]

((S'all good...I'm patient ^.^))

 

Hours seemed to pass as Aryian walked, the only thoughts in his head being subtlety and finding friendly troops to rejoin. They often drifted towards Armiena idly, but Aryian knew if he let himself grow lax to this environment, it could easily eat him alive. And so he kept going.

 

Until the the whine of engines paused his advance, giving him reason to look into the skies. As the transport landed, repulsorjets coating him with a light dust, he felt the very distinct aura of the one man he'd contacted, the one man capable of finding and saving him. Onderin.

 

He hopped aboard as was bidden, strapping in where there was room hastily while continuing the conversation with the Admiral.

 

"It's been a while, Onderin. Good to see you're well. You must tell me how things are now, I no longer sense the angst and pains of battle being fought. Armiena, too...is gone. I think the Mandalorian may have somehow overtaken her in my state of unconsciousness. What happened here?"

[Onderin Starlisk]

Onderin set his jaw. Aryian was one of the few people in the galaxy that still didn't know about what had happened. It wouldn't be easy to tell him. He licked his lips, then told the pilot to take them to Gala. He then sat down across from Aryian and strapped in.

 

Taking a deep breath, he began. "You're right. The battle is over. But it didn't end how anyone expected.

 

"Aryian," Onderin said, meeting the Jedi Master's eyes and using his first name uncharacteristically, "the Corellian system has been destroyed, all its inhabitants--billions of sentients alone--murdered. The Arach'tar are back, and they seek to destroy galactic civilization.

 

"We were forced to abandon the fleet when the Arach'tar showed up here, but Mechis III escaped into hyperspace. I've just spoken to Emperor Faust, and he has provided us transport and the full use of the Mon Calamari shipyards. A more formal agreement is going to take place on Tatooine."

 

The Admiral could empathize with what Aryian was undoubtedly feeling at the moment, and it was something he wished never to undergo again. "I understand that it is extremely important that we find the Grandmaster, but the state of the galaxy is extremely urgent. The leaders of the galaxy are meeting in the Hutt palace on Tatooine. I want you to come and represent the Jedi in Armiena's place."

 

Onderin regretted having to be all business like that, but the galaxy's fate depended on how they proceeded through these next few hours.

[Ary the Grey]

((Gren has my ship BTW))

 

For the longest moment Aryian didn't move. It was a lot to absorb, a lot to comprehend and process to make a seemingly simple descision. He faced two roads before him...serve the Grandmaster, his wife and eternal companion, or serve the Jedi. For the longest time Aryian weighed the situation before at long last coming to a conclusion.

 

"Very well. On one condition...when the slightest scrap of information passes my way on the location of the Grandmaster, it is ultimately my duty to her that is higher. Many can serve this position, but for now, if you wish, I will step forward."

 

For a few moments more the thoughts raced inside his head before a totally new one sprang up amidst the thinking, one he should have thought of a long time ago.

 

"What of my ship? Did it survive with the remainder of the fleet?"

[Nitestrike]

After fruitlessly attempting to make contact with his astromech droid, Brad realized that his situation was worse than he originally surmised. With a ship and a droid damaged, attempting to get his X-Wing airborne again would be quite dangerous, and the Jedi was unsure if it was worth the risk. The amount of people on the planet, he felt was shrinking quickly. Realizing that repairing his ship was his one viable option, he began to work.

Edited November 17, 2007 by Guest

[Onderin Starlisk]

((Nitestrike, we're in space aboard a shuttle--I'm afraid it just isn't possible for you to join the conversation right now. Even if we had not yet taken off, we'd be halfway across the planet from your position.))

 

Onderin was somewhat relieved when Aryian agreed to go to Tatooine with him. "I understand," he said in reference to Aryian's terms. "It is extremely important that we get the Grandmaster back, and I know how important she is to you." He was, after all, the one who had married the two. Still, he found himself somewhat tongue tied in how to refer to Armiena. He didn't like using first names if he didn't feel extremely comfortable around someone, and he didn't want to call her 'Master Darkfire' because Aryian shared the name and title....

 

The Admiral brought his attention back to Aryian. "I believe your ship was recovered by General Sairdonga. He's probably already back on Gala. We'll need to stop by there before we head to Tatooine, so you can pick up your ship. I'm going to take another Alliance officer with me as well."

 

First they had to get there. The shuttle soon entered hyperspace en route for the Alliance headquarters world.

 

((Continued in the Gala thread.))

[Jidai Geki]

'Your assistance is appreciated, Commander. As thanks, I shall refrain from murdering you where you stand.'

 

*Geki chuckles, pats the commander on the arm amicably, and proceeds to the private shuttle. Minutes later, he is in hyperspace.*

[Lord MacLeod]

Having been highly burned by an electrical discharge during the attack of the Arach'tar when a console had exploded. Grand Admiral MacLeod had been carried from the command center unconscious by the remaining members of the command crew. He was loaded onto a shuttle and flew planetside where he recieved immediate medical attention. Two days later, he had received enough medical attention to be returned to Cardia.

 

So he once again boarded a shuttle this time under his own strength, the left side of his face scared badly. "Take us back to Cardia, Captain. " Moments later the command crew of the Imperial Vengence lifted off in several shuttles. They flew into space escorted by a squadron of TIE Defenders, moments after clearing the graity shadow of the planet the shuttles and escort jumped into hyperspace heading back to Cardia.

[Ason Antilles]

((Sorry if the post ends up being lame... its past 3 AM here...))

 

A tear of blood fell upon the pallid forehead of the abomination, unfurling itself down his cheek like a majestic red carpet laid out before royalty. It cascaded downward until it rolled down to the vermillion soaked tile below, a pale white cadaver resting languidly upon the floor next to the ripple. Sheathed within the corpse's back rested an ever growing blade, its scarlet contour forming itself out of the slender back of the feminine figure it was now housed in. Blood pulsated through the sword as though it were a living organism, vivid red carrying with it striking anarchy and tremors of insanity to all those that gazed upon the masterpiece.

 

Fallen upon the ground as well laid a dull face, hues once bristling with vitality fading away to a peculiar white. It was far less of a divine luminance and more of a sickly ash colored pool, drowning within them the memories of young minds and the hopes of a future. Silently, twin lids shut out the screams of those memories which begged with sonorous cries for their existence, only to have the vision around them eclipsed. While the blood-red vessels flowed with unrivaled alacrity throughout the other, this particular body lacked any sense of motion entirely. Everything had simply shut down.

 

”

[Darth Furion]

Among the standard shipment of raw materials regularly seen in the customs department a hefty package for Lord Antilles, guarded by two imperial stormtroopers. Within the hermetically sealed box things seemingly unimportant to most. Some questionable organs, blocks of metal, a relatively rare gem, and some other unrecognizable objects. The package was escorted to the Lord as ordered. Upon the delivery, one of the two stormtroopers handed the Sith a small datapad and left, his orders fulfilled. The datapad was short and to the point.

 

Ason, my apologies for the delay on accumulating the requested materials. Everything is there. I had to use quite a few resources to get some of the...more obscure items. My thanks for your future endeavors.

 

-J

[Jidai Geki]

*Four Imperial Star Destroyers arrive over Mechis III, one of them carrying the interim head of the Empire, Jidai Geki. In the bowels of the ship, Imperial torturers have been given the go-ahead by the shift physician to begin probing Darla's skin with wickedly thin needles...*

 

'Let's begin, commander. Commence rebuilding of any lost ships at once.'

 

*Mechis III springs to life as Imperial labourers and slaves alike begin to weld, construct, and rivet the Imperial fleet towards glory...*

[BLACK1]

Black brought The Trushot into one of the more secluded factory districts of Mechis III with little fuss. The cold mechanical grinding of the planet was held out by the ship's hull, but he knew it was there, a mocking reminder of his loss of feeling. He rose from his chair. It was time, no turning back. On the way out of the ship, he picked up a large rectangular briefcase, speaking to Ariane without turning his head or lessening his stride.

 

Stay here.

 

A part of him longed to stay by her side, to continue to feel nothing but warmth. But in his heart, he knew this was the only thing he could do. The only way to atone for his life of death and suffering. Black doubted he would even survive what he had in store. In the likely chance he died, he left a message programmed into the ship, telling her the location of a large sum of money hidden in the false panels of his ship.

 

It didn't take him long to acquire the shuttle. It was late, and the two men guarding the hanger weren't exactly focused on their duties, talking about some new shuttle or something. Black hadn't really taken the time to listen in, his bullets flying the moment they came into view. The shuttle left the planet surface and berthed with the Star Destroyer most likely to hold the commanding officer. He didn't know what rank the man would be, or if this would make any difference. All he knew was that he had to do this. The tail of his coat fluttered against his pace as he walked down the ramp.

 

"Excuse me sir, I don't have anyone sched--"

 

Heaven rang aloud, silencing the sentry before raising any alarm. As he marched on, Black ignored the stares he was so accustomed to. Though he had no clearance or uniform, it wasn't unheard of for the Empire to hire bounty hunters for delicate matters. Even still, the soldiers offered not a sign of kindness to what they assumed to be a fellow brother in arms. No matter where he traveled, he had never seemed to fit in, even in this military setting. Be it his clothes or his demeanor, he was always the social pariah.

 

Black stopped at the end of the hall. Before him was a thirty meter long passage leading to the bridge. He knelt down, pulling out two small metallic boxes from his deep pockets. When the two boxes were positioned on both sides of the hall, he ran an invisible wire between them, creating a trip wire. The backup the crew on the bridge would inevitably call for would be met with an unpleasant surprise. He stood, now headed down the long hall. Black paused before the threshold to the bridge, again pulling things from his countless pockets. This time, the boxes he pulled out was much smaller. Once the small explosives were in place, he synchronized them with the detonator. Black walked back down the long hall, taking a seat against the wall around the corner. He loaded the long cylindrical weapon previously in the case and reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled looking box. The lid slid open, one cigarette left. Perhaps it was a sign, perhaps it was just coincidence. Either way, this was certainly as good a time as any.

 

Click...click....click

 

The lighter refused to work it's magic, snapping what was left of his patience. A feeling of utter defeat spread through Black, the thought of going through with this without a cigarette was completely demoralizing. His hand reached down to his ankle, pulling out his lone blaster. After several blank shots at the far wall he pulled the gun close to his mouth, putting the tip of the cigarette against the hot barrel. With a few heavy drags the cigarette crackled alive. Bluish smoke poured out of Black's nostrils as he let out a soft moan. For a moment he just sat against the cold metal wall, her warmth the only thing on his mind.

 

The explosion rippled through the deck, sending the thick durasteel flying into the bridge. Playing on the confusion of the explosion, Black took the opportunity and tossed two smoke grenades around the corner. A grey haze filled the doorway, obscuring the hall from the bridge's crew. Blind fire erupted from the bridge as it's crew made their desperate attempt at stopping the assailant. Black continued to sit around the corner, enjoying his cigarette as the crew fired into the empty hall. The sound of rushed stormtrooper boots against durasteel echoed around him, stopped only when the tripwire was discovered, the reinforcements turned to bloody pulp. Soon the firing stopped, and still he waited. When the fire wasn't returned, Black could hear the crew muttering to themselves. Even now, with the heat of battle nearly upon him, he could feel nothing but self resentment. Standing now, he lifted the elongated weapon from it's rest. With one last exhale, he spun around the corner. He flicked the switch, the weapon responding with a loud whir and a steady shaking. Slowly, he began walking toward the haze. His footsteps echoed throughout the hall like death's knell, the crew growing sickeningly quieter with every ring.

 

The crew continued to stand their ground, their eyes darting around the smoke screen for any target. A shadow, a reflection of light, it didn't matter, they were ready. What came was something no one could have predicted. Parting the gaseous obtrusion was a rocket propelled chainsaw, heading directly for Geki. Before the Sith Master could react, the spinning teeth took hold of his flesh, the driving flame unwilling to let it's blade stop it's flight. The missile lifted Geki off the ground, slamming him into the far bulk head. Deeper and deeper the chainsaw dug, soon cutting into not flesh but metal. The vicious teeth continued to spin constant as the Sith's own weight pulled him down, tearing the man in half. The crew could only stand in horror as their master screamed in insidious laughter. Then the blade stopped spinning, it's short fuel cell spent. The laughter turned to chuckles, then nothing. Eyes remained frozen on the visage of their sundered master, still holding onto his manic grin despite death's hold.

 

During the ordeal, the smoke had dissipated, now revealing Black, standing amidst the corpses at the end of the hall. The spell the death of their master cast held fast among the crew as Black let the massive weapon drop and began his casual gait toward them. Stopping at the doorway, Black took the final drag from his cigarette and let it drop to the floor, smothering the remains with the sole of his boot.

 

I'm the Emperor now. Bring me up to speed.

 

After a few hours of fearful chatter and presentation of one report after another, Black knew everything immediately important to the Empire.

 

Send the captured Jedi planet side and hold her there until the Sith comes for her. She's not the concern of the Empire any more. I'll not take part in this holy war of theirs. Oh, and there's a woman by the name of Ariane Kyrie. She's in factory district sixty-two B. Bring her here. Commander, plot a course for Sullust once she's on board.

 

The commander saluted and turned, relaying the command to those below him. Within the hour, Ariane was brought aboard. Three of the four Star Destroyers left the system, headed for Sullust. The fourth remaining behind to patrol Mechis space.

 

((Ariane, sorry for posting your actions. You've got time to get a post in before we head out, unless you wish to stay behind of course.))

[SithAcolyte]

Waiting... It was a killer.

 

Without warning Geki had changed his tune completely. But that was in his nature. Darla couldn't hate him for it. She was a little angry at Starlisk for sending her into an obvious trap. Darla could've disobeyed him...

 

Never again. Listen to your gut Darla, when have your instincts been wrong?

 

The death of her troops had thrown her. She felt the pain of every one of them, snuffed out. Darla hadn't fought against the troops who had taken her away. She knew it was fruitless.

 

And now she was waiting...

 

Waiting for the torture to begin...

[Darth Furion]

Darla laid in the corner of the pitch black room, huddled to regain the warmth the cold metal floor had taken from her. For three days she had been alone, waking to water placed at the door some time in her sleep. Now, all that remained was the dark, her only companion in her time of need.

 

Light poured into the room as the metal door creaked open. Three Imperial soldiers walked into the room, setting up a table and two chairs. When the door closed, darkness returned. A single soft light slowly lit the table and chairs. As the light grew in intensity, the outline of a figure began to appear.

 

Do you have any allergies or illnesses I should be aware of? Are you currently taking any medication? Have you had any trouble with your heart?

 

He waited for a brief second before standing from his chair. Julio started to walk toward Darla, his stride precise and soft.

 

When I ask a question you will respond at once. You will not hesitate, you will not consider, you will not lie. Cooperation will be rewarded, resistance...will be punished. Do you understand?

[SithAcolyte]

Darla unfurled herself from the darkness as a sliver of light entered the room. White figures moved around and before Darla could focus enough to figure out who they were they had gone. Soon the light returned and this time a fraction of it stayed.

 

She was imly aware of another presence in the room. Darla couldn't remember where she was and how she had gotten there. She had been moved around in darkness, brought to this cold metal room. As awareness returned to her she remembered being on Geki's ship. Memories returned in violent flashes as her waking mind tried to make sense of everything.

 

He killed them all... then his men dragged me away...

 

The shock of it all had been too much for Darla. She could have fought back but she knew it was futile. Even if she'd killed a hundred stromtroopers she would never have escaped the Star Destroyer. So instead she went quietly.

 

Much to her surprse, no harm had come to her. Upon reaching her destination Darla had simply shut down. Falling deep into a trance Darla had curled up in dark with her self-pity and anguish. She didn't know how long he had been alone for.

 

Now there was someone in the room with her.

 

She could see his outline as he moved towards her, he spoke calmly. Darla could feel the darkside within him, but she felt no danger yet. As he approached she stood weakly. It must have been days since she'd been on feet, days since she'd eaten. Darla's already slender form was thinner than usual. She had a little trouble lifty her mechanical arm and gently called on the force to enhance her strength.

 

Her mechanical arm was a formidable weapon in it's own right. She wondered why they hadn't removed it. Did this man that stood before her know about it's plasma emitters? Surely Geki would have passed on this information. If not... Well, if the opportunity came, it could be her ticket out.

 

"I don't have any illnesses..." Darla croaked, her voice a hoarse and broken whisper. "Who are you? Where am I?"

 

Darla squinted in the new light, trying to focus on her interrogator.

[Darth Furion]

Good.

 

Seeing the prisoner was alert and well, Julio took a step backwards and turned to head back to his chair. With a slight nudge of the force, pain spread through Dalra, Julio's golden eyes locked onto her.

 

Think about harming me again, and the pain will be worse. We've left you with your arm because I hope we can establish a certain level of trust between us. However, if you persist in considering your mechanical limb in an attempt to harm me or attempt an escape, I will have it removed. You can not escape. This room has be set up to expel a mass volume of various gases if the soldiers watching even think you're getting out of hand, and there are at least thirty men outside the room at all times. We know full and well your capabilities, Ms. Sar. Please, sit. His hand gestured to the seat in front of him.

 

There's nothing to be gained from trying to harm me. I am not the enemy. To be the enemy, I must have some personal stake in what happens to you. I'm not interested in that at all. I'm here to do a job, nothing more. You are a name, a file, and a case number. That is all.

 

His attention turned to the small table before him. His hand skimmed the surface of several blue colored folder until stopping at the exact one.

 

I have no desire to inflict pain but I will do so when and as it is required. The level of discomfort you experience will be entirely up to you. I'm not here to negotiate or here to assist you. Do you understand?

 

Julio opened the file and began reading it, waiting for Darla to take her seat.

[SithAcolyte]

Darla felt pain course through her body. Whoever this man was he was powerful and obviously not someone to mes with. The pain was somewhat welcome, shocking her body into being awake and alert and grounding her in the present. However the threat was there, the promise of an even worse punishment were she to try to escape.

 

"I understand." Her voice was a little clearer and louder.

 

What Darla understood was that she was still useful and that was the only reason the Imperials were keeping her alive. They wanted something from or they wanted her. If it was information they wanted Darla wouldn't give it up. But she would give herself up if it meant protecting others. Perhaps they had a dangerous mission that they wanted to use her for. A suicide mission. Darla didn't have many options at all.

 

She sat down on the chair before her, glad to be sitting and no longer laying on the floor. She stretched out her aching muscles as sbest she could and tried to sit comfortably.

 

"Alright... If you're not my enemy, then what are you?" Darla wanted to co-operate, but she had so many questions. "What do you want from me?"

 

There was a slight challenge in her tone that she couldn't curb. But she was sitting as calmly as she could.

[Darth Furion]

After Darla posed her questions, four interwoven durasteel restraints built into the chair locked her wrists and ankles to the chair.

 

I require you're cooperation, nothing more. It is my superior's hopes that you will join us. Not the Empire, mind you, but the Sith Order.

 

He let the real gravity of the situation sink in before moving on, reading through her file as reality came into view. She wasn't messing with the Empire and it's linear tactics anymore. This was the Sith Order, the ones even the Emperor checks under his bed for before he goes to sleep. Julio reached into his briefcase, pulling out a small rectangular object wrapped in a wax coated paper. He set it carelessly on his desk as he continued to look through the rest of the briefcase's assorted things. With the little attention he paid toward the small thing, it would seem nearly insignificant, but soon the delectable scent would float it's way to Darla, reminding her just how hungry she really was. With a small chuckle of victory, he set down the case and pulled out a small book. It's pages were blank, but as soon as he found it, he began writing. His eyes shifted back to the file, reading a small section to refresh his memory before speaking again.

 

It says here you've been with the Sith before. Why did you leave?

[SithAcolyte]

Darla flinched as her ankles and wrists were bound. She was held tightly in place, but they weren't unbreakable bonds. Especially not with her mechanical arm intact. She was already trapped, the only purpose the restraints had were to keep her seated and make her uncomfortable...

 

Then it hit her. Her captor had placed a small bag upon the table. From that bag Darla wafted the aroma of fresh meat. Not re-hydrated space food, real, fresh, meat.

 

After sustaining her body through a force trance for longer than she cared to think, Darla was starved to the point of fatigue. Her captor was screwing with her, putting her off balance so she couldn't resist his interogation and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

 

Her mouth watered as the Aroma filled her nostrils. Julio's words distracted her from the smell and pulled her back into the moment.

 

"I... I wanted to know about the Darkside, but I never wanted to be a Sith. I was cloned by Tarrian Skywalker then taken captive and forced to be her apprentice... There was a part of me that wanted to know the things that she could teach me, but..." Darla was so weak and hungry that she couldn't stop the words falling from her mouth.

 

She realised that she was telling Juio too much.

 

"I left the Sith... As a friend, I didn't fight against them. I left the Jedi too. Neither Order seemed right for me."

 

It was the truth but a much simplified version. Even though she was weak Darla wasn't ready to spill all her secrets.