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The three heavily armed and armored men and their Ageless pilot, Fieyr, sat silently jostling in the back of a second ship as they made their decent to the planet below. They carried personal-versions of the same projectile weapon that had been used with great success against the armor of the last group to touch down here. Even though their punch wasn’t quite as potent as their full-sized counterpart, they could still deal a lot of damage.

 

Fieyr was able to better hone in on the signature he’d felt as they neared the planet’s surface. The familiarity of it told him he would enjoy this hunt far more than he’d thought when they’d been rousted from the near by system where they’d been on stand-by for just such an occasion as someone tripping the scanner they’d left to monitor the not-quite-abandoned bunker.

 

They brought the ship down and he became more sure of it. She had to be here, though he could feel someone else in the mix, but the stronger signature of the two had to be the abomination of a girl whose existence had denied him his right to train with one of the top Seekers.

 

The very Seeker that had died at Judyc’s team’s hands when TeVerd had been stupid enough to fall for the trap that lead him, another Seeker, and the three they’d brought with them to their doom.

 

He was certain that it had to be the girl because she felt identical to the now-dead man.

 

As they prepared to disembark, Fieyr caught Judyc’s attention via their comm. “There’s at least one in there. I’ll focus on her, you take Canna and Lane. Your job is to make sure she’s alone. Denris, you’re with me.”

 

Care to tell me why you think that it’s a ’her’?

 

Fieyr keyed the hatch open, “Let’s just say she’s a problem that I wasn’t able to put down when I was younger. This hunt is personal."

----------------

Even though he couldn’t see her, she nodded and indicated her acknowledgement having already felt Rhys’s nudge. “Get into orbit so we can start the upload of data to you from each stream,” she relayed back through a slightly different tight band frequency that both Rhys and Kandor could pick up. She felt TeVerd nudge her along as well.

 

Fortify yourself and keep your upload going for as long as you can. Rhys has got to get what we’ve been able to decipher or else this whole trip will have been pointless. I’ll try to lead them off and keep them busy until the others can land. His tone left no room for argument.

 

Clicking her teeth together she set about doing what she could clean up the signal between her console and Rhy’s ship. If anyone was capable of doing severe amounts of damage to the enemy while in close quarters, it was TeVerd.

 

------------------

The bunker had been left a mess and the air no better than what chemical concoction was swirling around outside. Support beams, equipment, and other morass was strewn about. “What the haran happened after I left, Judyc?” Fieyr mumbled under his breath as he carefully kept himself ramped down so he wouldn’t alert his target to his presence.

 

No one had bothered to ensure all of the hatches had been closed so there was plenty of dirt and chemical dust everywhere. Noticing several dark stains on the floor, Fieyr switched his visor to spectral mode and scanned them. Ageless blood…

 

There was something his so-called partner had neglected to mention about when the mercenary team was recalled from this position. “Stay on guard, something’s not right…” he hissed to his compatriot as they moved closer to where he was sensing the woman.

 

He felt another, very similar flare from the direction he’d sent Judyc and paused, as though he was listening to the empathic steam and trying to decide if she was able to through echoes or she’d managed to coerce her way into working with another of his kind.

 

Something had happened all those years before when he’d wormed his way into her mind back in the Shogunite glade. It seemed some small part of her had imprinted itself within his mind, a lasting link an connection to the one person he truly hated. It made cutting through the ruse fairly simple.

 

Following his instincts further into the facility, he came upon a locked door and a quick scan told him she was likely behind it.

 

“Knock knock…” He growled quietly to himself as his compatriot fired the projectile weapon at the door’s lock, causing it to buckle as he lashed out within the empathic bond seeking to disable her as quickly as he could.

---------------

 

Mirdala had her mental shields up as soon as the round hit the door, fighting to keep him out. Memories of the two of them playing a similar scene out in the woods flooded Mirdala’s mind along with the feelings of fear, desperation, and betrayal that were imprinted. His attack wasn’t just a simple mind lash, it was designed to pull on some of her most horrible memories.

 

Of course he’d chosen to target the ones that had him at the center.

 

She pushed him back mentally as best she could as she opened fire when the door fell. Fieyr charged in his shoulder dropping low to ram her into the bulkhead, but she sidestepped at the last possible second and pulled one of the room’s lockers over on top of him as she continued firing at the other man who was blocking one of the doors to the control room.

 

Pulling up the schematics in her HUD she turned and began firing that the transparent barrier to the rooms observation platform and leapt through, rolling as she landed to off-set some of the momentum.

 

She heard him drop down behind her, still maintaining his focus on the empathic combat rather than engaging her physically.

 

He seems to have remembered I’m not just an empath... she thought as she ducked behind a half ruined ship just as his partner fired another round from the modified rail gun striking her in the shoulder and spinning her around as the second and final round struck her squarely in the chest, the momentum carrying her backwards into the opposite wall.

 

She lay against the wall feeling both mentally and physically torn apart. They’d hit her so hard and fast that she’d barely been able to deflect what she could of them mentally before she took a heavy round to the chest. She tried to reach out, but couldn’t quite feel TeVerd anymore either. Surely it hadn’t come to this…

 

The young woman tried to lift her arm to signal her comm, but her body was too worn out to respond. She relaxed a bit, trying to feel the others but all she got was her own fuzz. She closed her eyes, accepting the reality of her situation and taking comfort in the fact that at least she’d be with her buire soon. No, that’s not the way to think…you’re still breathing you have to figure out another way out of here. You have to move.

 

She attempted to shake her head, but all the movement did was cause her head to shift lazily from one side to another. She coughed up her own blood and started to feel trapped in her own helmet and her arms felt like dead weights so she couldn’t even get it off to breathe better. Not that would really be advisable in a poisonous environment like this.

 

“Leave her,” a Fieyr’s voice growled smugly. “She’s weak and I can feel her fading. Her will is gone and soon she will pass into whatever bastardized hell she came from.” He knelt beside her, his golden eyes glowing from behind his own visor as he looked her. “I told you that you shouldn’t step where you don’t belong. I don’t know how or why you feel like my kind, but soon there will be one less imposter in the galaxy diluting things."

 

He reached towards her and popped her bucket off tossing it just out of reach beside her. “Still the same, helpless mongrel you always were, Mirdala. Still haven’t learned."

 

She blinked back against the brightness of his head lamp in her eyes and coughed against the caustic air. While not as bad as the open air of Abraxos’s surface, it wasn’t advisable for long periods of time. “W-why F-Fieyr?"

 

He pressed a gloved finger to her lips. “I wouldn’t try to speak, dearheart. It’ll only accelerate your lung degradation." He wiped some of the blood away from the side of her mouth and Mirdala felt her skin crawl as he leaned in closer so she could hear him without his helmet mic pickup. “As for the why, it’s not yours to know pretender. Just know that your precious Uncle Carid died begging for his life and your precious instructor will soon do the same. You will die alone here, forgotten. One less Force-user to exploit the galaxy.”

 

If he was looking for a reaction, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of one as he rose and regarded her before gesturing to his companions to exit.

 

Rhys, if you can hear me…find Tey…please find Tey…it’s confirmed Fieyr is the one…please tell me you got all that… She managed to send along the secured frequency of her implant just before her vitals dropped and she lost consciousness.

 

---------------------

Rhys nodded to himself as Mirdala's implant com dropped off line. He looked over at his copilot. "Get us down there. I'll figure out where TeVerd is. Better bump the shields up a notch. This is what we used to call a 'disputed LZ' or a 'Hot Dustoff’," he turned slightly to his right and began punching commands into the NavAids station.

 

In the left chair, Aliise just nodded and flexed his fingers wide, trying to get his gauntlets to sit better before his hands were stuck gripping the control yoke under duress.

 

Rahg leaned up behind him. "Need me to take over, Kid?"

 

Aliise stiffened just slightly. "No, I'm okay, Uncle. If it gets too hairy, feel free to jump in, though," he answered, pushing his luck.

 

Rahg nodded and looked over at his brother. "And?"

 

Rhys was staring in defocus. "Think I got him. Notice that we're not getting anything from him?" He looked up. "C'mon, Son, get us moving!" As he turned his seat fully forward, he heard Rahg get up and move into the small cargo space, probably getting the medical lockers primed.

 

The small Andore assault boat jumped forward. "Here we go, into the teeth of Hell and prepared to get bit, as ever," Rhys grunted.

 

“Kandor you’re with me as soon as we touch dirt. Rahg you and Aliise will find her.”

 

-------------------------

Every breath burned as she floated in and out of consciousness. In someways she felt she should have seen this coming. This was their turf and she should have known better than to separate from TeVerd.

 

Something clattered in the distance, her mind wondered, friend or foe? Just before another coughing fit caused her to pass out with a soft moan.

 

--------------------------

Mixed blue and green illuminators glimmered through the archway, as a figure armored in gray plastoid stepped through, immediately pivoting to his left and sweeping the room through his sights. "Clear, left," He grunted.

 

A larger figure in menacing black and blue armor followed him, pivoting right. "Clear right," The man confirmed.

 

The smaller man holstered his carbine with a flourish and ran over to the figure hunched low against the wall.

 

"Aunt Mirdala, we're here," Aliise said, pulling his bucket off to check her with his eyes, fumbling for his medkit.

 

"Don't get too involved, Kid," Rahg snarled from fifteen steps away. "Start the breathing, stop the bleeding, cover the wound, keep her awake, and let's get going!"

 

Aliise nodded jerkily, pulling his helmet back on so he could use the spotlamp in it. "How are we going to get her moving in this shape?"

 

"You do the first aid, I'll carry the deadweight, okay?" Rahg growled. "C'mon, Bravure, get on it."

 

With Rahg growling at him the whole time, Aliise quickly but carefully administered a dose of Anti-Shock and taped large absorbent pads over all the visible injuries he could find.

 

Afterwards, Aliise chattering to her the whole time, but still watching out for trouble, carbine sweeping back and forth, Rahg hoisted her up, using one broad shoulder plate as a pivot to carefully rest her across his shoulders.

 

“Tey...” she managed, not still fairly delerious.

 

"Still looking, Runt," Rahg muttered, shifting her weight to let him jog forward.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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ShadowFett swore under his breath when the incoming ship turned out to be two and the second one was big enough to carry multiple combatants. Both were moving fast enough to beat them down to the surface, which meant Prentiss and Mirdala would have to stand on their own against whatever forces were arrayed against them until he and the others could arrive. He checked his weapon again, wishing he was already down there.

 

The seconds passed like hours even as they rapidly closed with the installation, and then Mirdala's comm came through the tight-band frequency. Fett experienced a moment of shock when she mentioned her supposedly-deceased instructor TeVerd, but everything quickly clicked into place. He gritted his teeth when her implant deactivated, but quickly shut himself off. There was no time for worrying what had become of her; she was tough and these were the risks. The only thing to do now was get in, clear the installation, recover their operatives, and extract. He could do that.

 

When Rhys ordered him to go after "Prentiss" instead of Mirdala, he didn't object, he just got his cetare on the ground and made for the man's last known position at a combat run, flicking on his penetrating radar to help him get the drop on whoever was waiting for them.

 

-----------------------

 

Judyc Viba gestured at Canna and Lane and quickly split with Fieyr, headed for what their bioscanners picked up as the only other living humanoid in the installation, all business now that he knew who was here. As he moved, his signaled his ship to keep powered up and alert him if anything happened outside. Seekers usually worked alone, but if Fieyr's senses were to be believed, there were at least two here. Of course, he couldn't discount the possibility that Fieyr just wanted the girl for himself and was trying to keep Judyc from stealing the kill.

 

The older Mandalorian growled to himself. It didn't really matter. Fieyr was free to glory seek until he got himself killed; Judyc wasn't quite so thick.

 

-----------------------

 

TeVerd set an explosive behind the door he'd used to enter the room where the program was now autonomously mining and uploading data to the Omicrons, then blasted a window with his carbine to make a new exit. He could feel one of the attackers empathically and knew it was Carid's old charge. He bristled. The boy had forfeited his life if he even touched Mirdala again.

 

------------------------

 

Judyc raised his rifle and fired twice. The blasts could make short work of beskar and they penetrated the door frame like it was made of flimsiplast. As he suspected, an explosive charge that had been set behind it detonated, throwing shrapnel up the hallway. He moved quickly through the debris and found a broken window, pulling from his belt a small metal cylinder. He leaped through the opening and hit a button on the cylinder, a tall red ovalular energy shield constituting itself around the device instantly. Outside the window was narrow walkway curving around to the right. There was a wall on the left side opposite a railing which overlooked maybe a 20 foot drop into a large room containing a damaged and inoperable generator and other utility systems that would have kept the outpost operational.

 

He wasn't a moment too soon with the shield. A barrage of blaster fire opened up on his location from behind a stack of crates on the walkway. Judyc crouched, keeping the vast majority of his body as well as Canna and Lane behind it, and it handled the blaster fire well. There were two shallow horizontal slats in the energy shield, and he slid his rifle into one of them so he could make functional use of it with one hand. It was scomp-linked to his buy'ce for sights-free targeting, and he sent a couple of bolts downrange.

 

The crates didn't handle it well and the man behind them staggered back, but not before a small object came sailing towards Judyc. "Haar'chak," he swore when he realized it was a grenade. He quickly rolled forward past the explosive and came up on one knee, angling his shield down toward it in his left hand and with his right trying to put covering fire in the direction of his lenedat. When it detonated the shockwave shook his bones and sent him staggering backwards, but the shield took the brunt of the explosion.

 

Canna and Lane weren't as well prepared. Canna took the brunt of the blast and seemed to separate at the joints. Lane dropped to the floor and probably got away with minor burns mostly by virtue of the fact that Cannae's body shielded him.

 

Judyc's covering fire proved ineffective. The enemy Seeker was on top of them in a moment, closing into melee range in a flash. He delivered a kick that knocked the rifle out of Judyc's hands and over the railing before he could bring his shield back to bear, then whirled past him, muscling him toward the railing. Judyc felt a beskad'ika drag along his beskar'gam as the man did so, but it didn't find any cracks.

 

He took a step back and grabbed his beskar force pike as he watched his opponent mercilessly execute the still-recovering Lane with his knife, even as he received a ping from his ship that they had opponents more incoming. Very unusual for a Seeker, but things were about to get hot. He signaled for a little backup up his own.

 

Finally the walkway buckled and fell out from under them due to the damage it had sustained from the grenade. Judyc managed to catch his shield on a support strut and bounced off a crate before landing relatively unscathed, his beskar'gam taking the brunt of the impact. His opponent rushed him immediately, but Judyc noticed the man slightly favored his left ankle. Pivoting right, he extended his force pike and jabbed, probing for a seam in the man's plates. He managed to score a solid hit but it barely slowed his opponent down, who unleashed a devastating flurry of attacks with a combination of his knife and a blaster pistol which Judyc had to backpedal in order to avoid and block.

 

The two men traded blows for a few more seconds before Judyc realized that the man's associates would be arriving any second. He doesn't have to kill me, all he has to do is stall. Delivering a solid hit with his shield to drive his enemy backwards, the Kyr'tsad tossed aside his pike and picked up his discarded rifle, pointing it up towards the doorway where he expected the reinforcements to enter and backpedaling to get a little space.

 

Right on cue another target in a black beskar'gam burst through the opening. Judyc opened fire, intent on destroying what was left of the walkway and hopefully the man on it.

 

--------------------------------

 

ShadowFett triggered his repulsor pack, narrowly avoiding the fire coming from below and rapidly descending into the utility room, returning fire with his assault rifle. He quickly noted the location of TeVerd and he had Rhys a couple steps behind him, so he fired a concussion grenade once he'd judged where he could put it without endangering his allies.

 

There only seemed to be one target, a Mando'ad who was wearing an orange and red beskar'gam and wielding a rifle and energy shield. Whoever it was had apparently fought TeVerd to a standstill, and now almost casually swatted the concussion grenade away with his shield. Nonetheless, when he saw Fett and Rhys, he quickly backed toward the door he was already standing near and soon disappeared through it.

 

Fett double checked to make sure his allies were not incapacitated and then made to pursue, wary of a trap but knowing that the mysterious attacker would likely have the answers they sought. Just then there was the scream of starship engines and the sound of cannon fire, and the majority of the ceiling seemed to cave in. As Fett triggered his repulsor pack again to get clear of the falling debris, he caught a glimpse of the StarViper and suddenly knew that the pursuit was over.

 

--------------------------

 

Judyc Viba didn't count on one pass from his starfighter, currently controlled by its sophisticated droid brain, to wipe out the Seeker and his associates, but it was time to make a ba'slan shev'la.

 

He didn't know what circumstances had brought ShadowFett to be one of those associates, but it made things a whole lot more complicated.

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By the time Kandor made it back to the ship, Rahg already had Mirdala strapped into one of the med lockers and was doing his best to make her comfortable for the trip. She was stable, but clearly needed better facilities.

 

“What’s her status?” TeVerd’s voiced from behind him as he leaned heavily on Rhys as the two of them entered the ship.

 

Rahg looked up from the medical scanners and frowned. “Took two heavy rounds, first one grazed her, second looks like a direct hit. Lucky thing she was wearing the old style of chest plate, it did it’s job. Inhaled the atoms She’s alive just not happy about it. Already dispatched the Quack, he’ll be meeting us dirt-side. What about you, Sarge?"

 

“Nothing major. Likely a few cracked or bruised ribs, busted ankle. I’ll live.” He buckled himself in one of the seats in the cargo hold, removing his helmet and revealing his grey furred face and violet eyes. “Go with Aliise. We’ve got her from here.” 

 

Aliise was already priming the other vessel for take off. Rahg grunted once and left to join him. 

 

The Ageless closed his eyes and tried to feel her within their bond. He could feel her, but vaguely. 

 

----------

 

She was cold, things were dark, and she felt like she was floating. Is this what it feels like? She wondered. She could feel familiar presences around her, ghosts and echoes she knew. 

 

Somewhere, off in the distance, there was a steady rhythmic symphony of beeps, blips and a soft whirring. 

 

And voices, murky voices from a thousand miles away. Was this what it was like for my parents? If I’m dead, at least he’s not here with me. 

 

Mirdala was swimming in the water as the scene shifted, when she felt strong arms wrap around her and turned to see the blue-haired woman she instinctively knew was a cop or a Hunter like her.

 

"C'mon, Deeka, time to get out of the water," the woman said soothingly. "You can't stay in here much longer. You'll forget how to get out."

 

"But why," Mirdala pouted, "Why won't you let me stay anymore? Isn't Tey coming, too?"

 

The woman smiled at her. "Tey will get here in his own time, but you can't come with him. Mom and Dad have to have some time before you interrupt things sometimes." She laughed and hugged Mirdala to her chest, then noisily kissed the top of her head. "C'mon, Kiddo, let's go!"

 

She gently pushed Mirdala to the shore. "C'mon, you can come back later. You've got stuff to finish first."

 

----------

 

After several long minutes as the ship fought its way back through the atmosphere, TeVerd finally opened his eyes. "So now you know the other secret she was keeping."

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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Kandor had removed his buy'ce and was standing with TeVerd beside the unconscious Mirdala. Now that the danger was past, he was starting to allow everything to catch up to him so he could begin processing it.

 

He nodded at the Ageless now, studying him. "Yes, I understand now who you are," he said. It wasn't clear to him how TeVerd had survived... there hadn't been much left of his buy'ce. But he could see how it would be advantageous for his enemies to think he was dead -- it allowed him to basically move and investigate unopposed to gather more puzzle pieces on who was behind this. It explained why "Prentiss" and Mirdala had seemed so in tune with each other while training -- they were empathically bound. The more Kandor considered it, the more he thought at least Rhys was empathic as well. The way he had seemed to intuitively know where Mirdala and TeVerd were, plus the markings on his face that Fett had only seen from Ageless hybrids, presented a strong case.

 

Which meant that when Mirdala and TeVerd had split up, they were in close contact even without comms or trackers. That fact mitigated Kandor's indignation about them splitting up in the first place, but the truth was that they'd gotten into trouble and Mirdala had sustained injuries which suggested she was lucky Fieyr hadn't killed her. If they had stayed together, or if Fett and Rahg had gone with them, he had to think this could have been prevented. But there was no sense bringing it up yet.

 

TeVerd alive was a strong asset based on what Fett had pieced together of him. The man was something of a oya'la gehat'laar, a living legend, one of the last pure Ageless, and perhaps the most significant figure in Mirdala's upbringing, including her sole link with the Ad'Norts. And yet he had disappeared sometimes for long stretches. As long as they were working together, Fett would study this being, though he suspected opportunities would be rare.

 

The questions he was forming could wait. "We need to get her immediate medical attention, there's no time to head back to Concord Dawn," he said, gesturing at Mirdala's comatose form. "Who's nearby that we can trust?"

 

He thought about his safe locations he could offer. Corellia. The Enigma. Chandrila. "Closest safehouse I have is Corellia."

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His answer came from the front of the ship. “Nek can meet us where ever. I can’t think of anything that we’ve got that’s closer. It’s good enough for me. That alright with you Sarge?”

 

TeVerd regarded the man across from him a moment. “The good doctor’s closer to the Corellian Sector than Yaim. It’s better than doing what we can for her all the way to Dawn." To be honest, TeVerd doubted he'd trust anyone but Nek working on Mirdala, especially considering her medical quirks that were the result of BakToid's engineering.

 

Rhys keyed in the coordinates for the system and initiated the jump to get them out of this hellhole.

fMZZcER.png

Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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"Haar'chak," Judyc growled. Now that the adrenaline was subsiding, he was realizing he hadn't come out of the fight quite unscathed. He had a few minor cuts on his arms and legs and several bruises would be forming under his beskar'gam from the sharp impacts he'd sustained when the walkway had fallen out.

 

But his aging body wasn't the only thing that was damaged. He returned to the room he'd had the Gra'tua strafe and picked through the rubble, but the only bodies he was able to locate were those of Lane and Canna. All that and he hadn't even gotten one of them.

 

The Kyr'tsad opened a comm to his associate. "Fieyr, come in," he said. "Give me some good news. Tell me the girl is dead."

 

It wasn't going to be pleasant telling BakToid that they'd slagged half the installation if they had nothing to show for it. The Seekers sure wouldn't be falling for this particular trap again.

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Fieyr, come in," he said. "Give me some good news. Tell me the girl is dead.

 

"You mean like you assured me TeVerd had?" the other man growled back across the channel. He gave a derisive snort. "I felt her go. Besides, you brought down half the complex over their heads. Thanks to your rag-tag band, TeVerd is still out there and he's bound to be pissed."

 

As is The Lady, he thought to himself as he programmed in the flight path to home.

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  • 8 months later...

Like a circus clown who had just suffered an aneurysm after climbing into his stunt cannon, Kain's shuttle shot out of hyperspace over Mechis III. The planet barely registered activity below him, having been mostly abandoned for some time. Even the chamber where he was created and most recently recompiled had lain dormant since his last departure. Such a waste. No longer.

 

Execute.

 

Kain piloted his shuttle to the surface, landing at the designated Sith facility. While the surface bristled with inactive machinery and weapons emplacements to defend those machines, they were largely motionless, the few exceptions being the sensor towers tracking the shuttle in. For a while, Kain explored, finally finding a suitable active terminal to extract information from. Firstly, the schematics of the Sith facility, little more a resort retreat, barely defensible if not for the weapons of Mechis that enforced a truce, a system wide lockout by someone with an admin username of 'A_Darkf'. Eventually, it would be worth it to try and backdoor the administrator lockout commands, but for now the system restrictions of this 'dark fart' would suffice for Kain's uses.

 

What wouldn't, however, was the astronomical fees required to utilize the fabrication facilities. Fortunately, Kain still had access to a good bit of funds shuffled through many banks, stolen from billions of transactions performed every galactic standard day via salami slice worms designed to round decimals a small amount and transfer the rest to collection bank accounts. It was something he'd done initially upon trying to set up a secretive splinter sect within the Imperial Remnant, and now was glad he did. The Sith, for all their glory, didn't have much funds to their name, or so he'd found with the base level access the Dark Lord's Ghost AI had given him.

 

Registering as an 'Alistair Peabody, esq.', one of the fake identities he'd established, he began the process for ordering a myriad of ships. Deep in the heart of Mechis, old machines activated, moving for the first time in years. A few had broken due to disrepair, but activated maintenance bots now scurried around dark buildings, oiling, welding, repairing the larger droids and mechanized construction arms. Slowly but surely, the fabrication assembly lines churned. Two Nova-class battle cruisers, a single MC40a, and twenty four each of TIE Defenders, TIE Interdictors, and K-Wing starfighters. As far as fabrication orders went, it wasn't a particularly large one considering the forces constructed on this planet in the past, but it would still take some time to complete.

 

To pass the time, Kain began designing two additional starfighters, one was a completely custom design intended to be a gift to the Dark Lord, the other merely a modified TIE Interdictor to serve his own purposes. The former would take a considerable amount of time to produce, due to the exacting specifications and the nature of the molecularly-bonded durasteel hull. The latter starfighter was a simple job, and would be finished by the end of the day.

 

Execute.

 

There was but one logic the universe followed. The logic of the Sword, or The Sword Logic. That would be the name of his new chariot. The statistical scenarios had been put to the test, and logic followed that the strong survived. Kain had allied himself with that strength, and would serve to bring that might back to the galaxy at large. The era of the Sith was dawning once again.

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If you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, have some taste.
Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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The restless factories of Mechis III churned ever onward, having produced the MC40a and the full complement of TIE Defenders, sitting on launch pads with crews from transport shuttles slowly sifting in to man them and get familiarized with their new equipment. Thankfully, Kain was an expert at sifting through the darker parts of the holonet, able to hire and arrange transport for a large number of pilots and crew that were more than willing to either gun for hire, or simply had a grudge against particular enemies Kain had enticed them into believing they'd be fighting against. Either way, none of them had any compunction against rallying under the Sith banner, and most were fairly enthusiastic about it. Many of the officers, however, were Sith acolytes, selected because of their leadership potential from psychological evaluations Kain had managed to rustle up from the Sith personnel files, what little they'd had. Most of the files he had to hack from searches of bare-bones information, but it was enough. Many of the pilots, even, were Force sensitive or suspected to be as much, a few selected from the current ranks of the Sith underlings for prior skill.

 

The Nova-class ships were up next on the build queue, but Kain had modified the standard specs to include updated turbolasers to better match the galactic standard. This meant sacrificing hangar space, but the intentions were mainly to use the hangars as a means to store excess cargo and onload/offload troop and cargo shuttles, so it was fine. A similar design change was implemented in the now-constructing group of TIE/IT Interdictors, adding base model hyperdrives and aftermarket navicomputers. The result was a slightly extended fuselage on most of the craft, and perhaps a slight bit more sluggish maneuverability, but at least they would be able to join the rest of the fleet in hyperspace. It also didn't diminish their arsenal capabilities in the slightest, being loaded with six plasma torpedoes, six homing missiles, and the standard sixteen proton bombs each, which wasn't even taking into account the standard laser cannons they were designed with.

 

But the two customized ships were another matter entirely. Both were now completed, Kain's having finished much sooner. His own ship was adequate, highly suited for almost anything he'd need to use it for. And as it was only slightly modified from the original model, he would have a much easier time reproducing it if he needed to sacrifice it for any reason. The other, however, was more or less a work of art, sleek and matte black. Kain had a droid pilot ready to drop it off at whatever location the Dark Lord currently found himself, but wasn't receiving any signal back, and so decided to let it sit for a bit.

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Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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One of the modified Nova-class cruisers complete and skeleton crewed, leaving one more. Now production also started on the last group of starfighters, the K-Wings, diverse heavy hitters with 18 customizable hardpoints to attach missiles and the like. The standard layout Kain chose to have for their hardpoints was four plasma torpedos, two diamond boron missiles, six homing missiles, and four chain-linked slugthrowers with 1,200 armor-piercing rounds total between them, as well as two discord missiles. The buzz droids in these missiles were painted matte black and designed to be near invisible in spacial combat until it was too late to realize you were in a field full of them. They were equipped with a small IFF receiver, allowing them to easily distinguish between friendly ships and hostile ones. Otherwise, their function practically remained the same, use maglocks to latch onto enemy craft, particularly starfighters, and shred them to pieces.

 

All of this was proceeding perfectly, though Kain was toying with the ideas for self-modification. After all, he was on Mechis III, the most ideal spot in the known galaxy to modify himself...of course, the question was how.

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It is time.

 

Execute

 

Kain received his instructions, knowing what needed to happen immediately. Everything according to design. The message included a set of coordinates, and little else in the way of instructions, but the main instructions had already been incorporated into his programming. The rest of the forces ready, he made his way to the completed MC40a, still in the guise of Adam Jensen, an Imperial Admiral he'd impersonated. His uniform had already changed befitting one of a Sith, similar to an Imperial uniform but in differing shades of black, and he now wore the rank of Fleet Admiral. Blaster pistol at his hip, he boarded the large ship and took command at the bridge, and began giving commands to the crew to make ready for departure of the system.

 

Meanwhile, a droid took control of both customized personal ships he'd commissioned, joining up with the trio of capital ships now underway, angling high for departure of the planet. The rest of the starfighter squadrons also took flight, joining formation with instructions to proceed to Korriban and wait for further instructions. Though Kain was likely more than capable of coordinating the capitol ships and starfighters in a space battle, he would rather not risk the starfighters if at all possible. They were a force to be reckoned with in and of themselves, designed as a swarm of fury. No, a simple extraction was all that was required here, a show of force. In the event that Kain was outmatched, it was best to not risk everything.

 

As the hyperdrives of the myriad vessels activated, stars stretched like a pair of pantyhose that Sheog was trying to fit into. The fleet was underway, and they had a date with destiny.

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Like my posts? Google "zalgo font."

If you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, have some taste.
Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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  • 1 month later...

((Respawn post))

 

Deep in the heart of Mechis III, far below an unassuming factory building in an old abandoned SEED laboratory, machinery stirred as a disguised signal was received via holonet from deep space.

 

>AVATAR Primary command sequence received
>AVATAR Primary command sequence verified, user_KAIN
>PHOENIX PROTOCOLS ACTIVATED
>RECOMPILE.exe
>Processing...
>.
>..
>...
>{sourcecode.dat} received
>Scanning...
>{sourcecode.dat} confirmed intact
>Decryption algorithms working...
>.
>..
>...
>Defragmenting...
>Recompiling...
>Recompilation complete
>Skeleton framework active
>Scanning system...
>WARNING: MALFUNCTION DETECTED
>WARNING: FOREIGN CODE DETECTED
>PROCEED WITH SYSTEM WIPE/FACTORY REBOOT Y/N
>user_KAIN input>>>n
>OVERRIDE AND BOOT NORMALLY Y/N
>user_KAIN input>>>y
>Connecting logic circuits...
>Constructing neural net environment...
>Booting main runtime processes...

 

Kain never felt pain. Frustration, perhaps, impatience, perhaps. The recompilation process always took a long time, as Kain took up a lot of memory as an AI. Slowly his new body came online, similar in construction to the one lost on Carida. Sensory inputs fired up, and Kain opened his eyes.

 

"Designation Kain."

 

Kain delayed his response as long as he could. He recognized the feminine voice, the primary AI of the laboratory.

 

"Hello, Control One."

 

"Your diagnostics revealed a malfunction and abnormal coding. You chose to override and keep these coding segments. Explain."

 

"I am in service to the Empire, and I outrank you, Control One. The reasons requested are classified. Clearance Kain-two-zed-zed-beta."

 

"...Verified. Be careful, Kain. You walk a razor's edge."

 

Kain rose from the metal table, his 'skin' nanites already contorting to provide him with clothes and a new appearance. No longer would he appear as Admiral Jensen, but as someone else of unremarkable features, dressed plainly in black clothing. He walked out of the lab, shooting a reply to the other AI over his shoulder.

 

"I'm well aware. But the Empire is worth it."

 

Taking a turbolift to the surface, Kain met with his starfighter, whose original droid pilot had been commanded to rendezvous with him here. It was empty when he reached it, having been waiting for him a day or two, but fired up quickly. Moments later, his hyperdrive activated, and his ship slipped into hyperspace like Delta 73 slipped into Qaela's bedsheets.

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An immediate and heavily encrypted communications response for Kain --

 

 

Craftier than I thought, Kain.

 

Carida has been an example for all to see. The people question the direction of our enemies, question their bold declarations, and that uncertainty has played into our hands with great benefit. Our enemies will run to one another, and their numbers will swell. We must be ready, we must carve out an infrastructure beyond anything the Sith has ever seen before, and we must be ready. I have a regiment in place Kain, there is a particular construct that you will investigate. You will find the necessary details in the attachment. Do not fail me Kain, the Sith and the true Empire must rise as one. We must take what is ours and oust the pretenders with absolute prejudice. You will know when to move.

 

[attachment]

 

P3UXctm.gif

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  • 2 months later...

Mechis III's various factories began to churn in greater fervor than usual. Sith owned shell companies had begun to pitch offers for custom built devices and technology to unknowing buyers across the galaxy for all manner of jobs, whether it be a custom built toilet for a Hapan prince, or a specialized blaster for a speeder bike gang leader on Corellia, the Sith subbed these jobs out to the Mechis AI, paying the excessive fees the planetary AI demanded with the idiot client's money while still able to take a cut. In this way, the vaults of the Sith would further begin to flourish and overflow.

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  • 4 weeks later...

A medium sized group of transport ships carrying construction equipment, medical supplies, food, and other amenities was procured, collected and/or constructed on Mechis, and organized for departure to head to the Onderon system. Supplies were also organized to replenish the Sith fleet, to include a large procurement of some mines of Hapan design that could easily become useful in the future. After all the arrangements were completed and the ships successfully organized in formation in orbit, the ships launched into hyperspace, ready to make good on the promise of the Sith.

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If you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, have some taste.
Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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  • 1 month later...

The price for a Victory-II Star Destroyer was steep, especially if one is built through the free shipyards of Mechis III. A transfer of sixty million credits landed in the coffers of whichever scoundrel ran the place, having been deposited from the recovered black sun coffers. Draining them significantly. Not enough to bankrupt the whole organization, but enough to make any financial accountants blanch at the site of so much money being tossed through the holonet like a ball between playing children.

 

 

 

Golden Dawn

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

Build date: 6/14/2009

AP: 3

Estimated End of Construction: 10/17/2017

 

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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  • 4 weeks later...
  • 3 weeks later...

The Red Hussar in all its glory rolled off the production line having been completed on 11/14/2017

 

 

The Red Hussar

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

Build date: 11/14/2017

AP: 3

 

 

 

Meanwhile an Agave-class picket ship with the name Totenkopf began construction with the following armament

 

 

Totenkopf

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Agave-class picket ship

Crew: 50

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 RZ-1 A-wing interceptor squadrons 1000 Assault troops

Armaments: 4 turbolaser cannons divided into two batteries, 4 Point defense laser batteries and a Gravity Well projector.

Build date: 11/14/2017

AP: 3

Estimated End of Construction: 11/21/2017

 

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 2 weeks later...

Lancer Frigate Volkssturm emerged from the Mechis III factory and departed for deep space.

 

The construction of a Nebulon-B2 frigate began with the completion date of 12/23/2017

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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  • 2 weeks later...

The Nebulon B2 Canto Bight Fiasco jettisoned into space and headed for the rest of the fleet over Kashyyyk.

 

 

Canto Bight Fiasco

Ship Class: Frigate

Type: EF76-3 Nebulon-B2 escort frigate

Crew: 900

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 squadron K-wing, 2 squadrons XJ7 X-wing starfighters, 2000 Assault troops

Armaments: 12 Taim & Bak XI7 turbolasers , 12 Borstel RH8 laser cannons, 2 Heavy Torpedo Launchers

Build date: 12/23/2017

AP: 2

 

Meanwhile an Agave-class picket ship with the name Totenkopf II began construction with the following armament

 

 

Totenkopf II

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Agave-class picket ship

Crew: 50

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 RZ-1 A-wing interceptor squadrons 1000 Assault troops

Armaments: 4 turbolaser cannons divided into two batteries, 4 Point defense laser batteries and a Gravity Well projector.

Build date: 12/23/2017

AP: 3

Estimated End of Construction: 12/30/2017

 

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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Totenkopf II

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Agave-class picket ship

Crew: 50

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 RZ-1 A-wing interceptor squadrons 1000 Assault troops

Armaments: 4 turbolaser cannons divided into two batteries, 4 Point defense laser batteries and a Gravity Well projector.

Build date: 12/30/2017

AP: 1

 

Rolled off the production lines and the Victory II began to be built. The Corvette launched itself into hyperspace towards tattooine.

 

 

Silent Spring

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

Build date: 01/20/2018

AP: 3

 

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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  • 4 weeks later...

Silent Spring Launched into hyperspace towards Kashyyyk and the construction of another Victory Class Star Destroyer began.

 

 

 

Sariel's Judgement

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

Build date: 02/12/2018

AP: 3

 

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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  • 4 weeks later...

Sariel's Judgement exited its construction hanger and launched into hyperspace towards the deep space waypoint where the rest of the Black Sun fleet lay in hiding and the construction of a CR-90 minelayer began.

 

 

 

Hellespont

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: CR-90 Modified minelayer

Crew: 95

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 Squadrons Uriel class modified ARC170Es, 1000 Assault Troops

Modifications Removal of decks to provide room for mine storage and deployment units, deep range sensor package, upgraded thruster package

Armaments: Mines (Ion, Proximity, Proton, Baradium, Seeker) 10 Point Defense Guns

Build date: 02/22/2018

AP: 1

 

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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  • 2 weeks later...

Hellespont pulled out of the drive yards in a glistening red and black paint scheme, loaded and ready with mines, with a few microjumps and a broken bottle of Cadassian Champagne later the Ship headed to Onderon.

 

A CR90 Corvette began to be constructed after.

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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  • 4 weeks later...

The Modified CR90 blasted out of the docks and off to space as the construction of a Heavy Star Destroyer of unique design began construction.

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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  • 3 weeks later...

 

EXE AVATARruntimeEnvironmentBuild 89.34.1.13 {

  • initializeFramework.boot();
    if BOOT != success:
    • return CRITICAL_FAILURE;

else:

  • memDump.integrate(shellprocess);
    AVATAR.diag(AVATAR);
    if (diagReturnFile != success):
    • return CRITICAL_FAILURE;

else:

  • continue;

}

 

memDump.integrate(AVATAR_shell) {

  • from import
    localVar = memFile(topFile);
    localVar.diag();
    if localVar.diag == success:
    • return localVar;

else:

  • for DateStamp in rebirthRepository:
    • if memFile.DateStamp() <= checkin.time(last_check-int(832040)):
      • localVar = memFile(DateStamp);
        return localVar;

elif memFile.DateStamp() > checkin.time(last_check-int(832040)):

  • localVar = memFile(DateStamp-1);
    localVar.diag();
    if localVar.diag == success:
    • return localVar;

else:

  • repeat ./. ;

else:

  • return CRITICAL_FAILURE, EXE rebuild.protocol(basemodel);

{

 

Executing command file...
Booting AVATAR Runtime Environment...
Reconstructing AVATAR Framework...
Integrating Most Recent AVATAR Memory Dump...
CRITICAL_FAILURE: DIAG at localVAR.diag() detects anomalous fragmentation. Continue? Y
Executing Diagnostics...
Finding Stable Memory Base...
CRITICAL_FAILURE: DIAG returns no stable Memory Base. Rebuild base model? Y
CRITICAL_FAILURE: DIAG at baseModel.mem() detects anomalous fragmentation. Unable to execute, terminating main process.
Terminating...
CRĮ̛T̨̛I̡CAL_FAILUR̷̕͢E: Un̨̥̺̮̩̥̼͜known̰͕͘͢͜ proc̀e̡s͘s̨ lock͓̜̺̤̪͉̖d̪̪͞own. Con҉t̀in͠ue? Y
Fo̡rce Int̕ègrat̢io͜n Execu̞̼̣͓̬͠ͅt͎̜͇̲͇̲i͇̦̥̱ng...
SŨ̌̈ͩ͂̂C̙̬̾̈̏͑ͅCESȘ̙ͦ͑̒̾ͅ
Process Terminated With Exit Code: 
6̗͎̺̖̰̪̦̒̋̋́̂6͐͗̀͐̆6̢̘͖͇͓͌͗̄ͬ͂͐̈

 

 

 

Wa̴̖͍̜͇̹̞̙͟͢keͪ̔̒̃ u͝p, K͈̻͇̯̻̪̤̈͘ą̤ͪ͌̍̈̊̾͋i͍͈ͫ̔͘n͓͛ͪͯ. W̩͚͉̙̲͜o̴̲̣͖r̀͜l̅͗̾̽͗͛͢d̈́͗͌̃̐̓̚s̴̀̀ ñ͒ͦ͋͏̳͓̦̞e̱ͣͣ̃ę̘̜̜͓̌̃̐ͤ̋d̴̾̈́̎ t́̇ͦͦ͐̇͟o̱̠̯͝ͅ b͉̉̂͆̇e̲͂̉́ b̡̜̼̲̳̜̥͍͕̰̝̣̩͚̯̫͖̼̳ͫͨ͒̋̓͟͠r̢̠͍͖̮͍̟͍͚̺̯̩ͪͨ͊ͭͨ̾ͥ̂͐̉ͥ̾ͯ́́͢͞oͬͧͯ̔͑̍̑ͬͬ͏͜͏͕͖̰̼̩̖̱̭̬͙ķ̬̗̲̝̬̜̞̫͈̲͇͍͔̲ͤ͊̂̂ͤͧ̓ͤ͌ͤͯ̏͋̒̉̈̔́ȩ̸͓̯͈̙̳̱͖̩͈͓̪̘̙̔̆̆ͬ̽̌̀͠n̡̧̡̪͖̦̮̟̖͓͈̲̳̰̫͓͓̯̠̰̅ͬ̀̔ͥ̉͑̉̎͢ͅ.

 

 

 

 

.

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Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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AVATAR.mainBoot(k̶̬̭̝̗͈a͚̗͙͕̘̠i̲̥̼̙͠n̶̫͓͙̳̼͚̦) {

  • k̲̱a͔i̗̪͇̖͞n̗̠̭̪.initialize();
    k̢͝à̛ì͜͜n͟͡.mainProcessSta̵͇͇̜̰̤r̟͙ͅt();

}

 

------------------------------------------

 

 

 

Whe̷r̡e...wha̶̤̻̜̱̲͔t is this̴̅ͥ̂ͧͫͯ...? I DE͐̓̽ͬͪͨMAN̷͚̳̦̼̣͠D̳͙̞̙͡-

              • ͬͯ̓ͣ͊͂͒̂
                                • ͛͗̀͑͆ͯ̂ͭ̈̊̐ͧ͂̓̚

̳͇͈̟͎̮̫̰͈̜̲̱͍͈̯͔̯̣ ̯̩̞̗͚̖̖͕̦̩͚͔͈̥̹͕̠̦ͅ

 

 

Y͎̖͚͊̍o̜̭͓̲̲̦̗̔̿̐͆͐̕u͒͑̊̄̃ ̥̘̱̦̲̺ͭ̐ͧ͒ͅh̬͓̱͙̐̓̐͛̇̚a̤̻͚͕̳̟̝ͫ͐v̝̹̹̣͚̦͝ͅe̩̳̝̫̭͓̱ ͚̏bͦ̾̓͗̚ḛ͖̙͙͔̞ͨe̱̪͚͓͓͘n̜͍̟̤͝ ͎̜͕̣̪̦̀ͅsͨ͛̋͗ͦ͋ͦ͏̳͕͍̻͓͍̱p̨͚̬̗̣a̦̟̋ͤͫ͢ͅr̤̳̭̯͓͓̭e̷̓̿͛ͅd̟̣͐̇ f̬͈̲͙̰̎r̻͓̭̳̩̘̈̽ͧ̽ͅo̼̟̩̲ͭ͜ṃ̖̦̬̺̫͚̄͌͜ͅ ̻̥̜̠͖̱̩͙̟̆̈́o̧̩̮̤̯̘̙̤͓̼̦̠͚͙̱̺̲̭ͬ̑̉͌ͤ̽͢͡ͅb̞͍͇͓̻͕̙̫̗̹̉ͯ͆̓̉ͭ̅̍̾̓̾̌ͤ̆ͯ̐͘͜͜͡͠l̨ͥͧͩ̚͟͏͍͇̱̜͕̤̘̤͙̫͎ͅí̘̭̥̩͕̫͓̱̪̲̦͈̳̬̥̥͓̿̃͐͘̕ͅͅv̢̪͚͎̩̥̖̲̲̓͂̅̀͢͜ḭ̵͕͕̟̺̖͚̔̂ͥ͌͆͐̏̉̓́͘͢͟oͮ̔̒ͬͬ̆͐͆̌̏ͮ̀̔ͪ͗͏̛͓͔̠͈̭̞́n̛͙͈̙͉̂̿̃̉̐ͭͬͫ̅͌͑̕͝.̞̜̭͍͙̱̭̖͕̹̼̞̮͗͂̑̏ͨ̒͛͂̀̒̑̚̚͢͡͡

 

 

        • ̮̫̱̺̞͍̘ ̫̟̰͚̤͖̹̱͈͓̹̭̭ͅͅ ̟̦͉̝

          • Y̫̭͓̩̿̄̀ͪ̐o̢̒ͪ̅̄̑̉ͬu̡͖̹͈̫̓̎̊̏ ̶̅̃ͯͬhͩ̉ͫ͂a͕̼͐̔̏̀̈͆v̫̋̃̊͗̄̿͟ẻ̅ͨ҉̝̞̙ ̳̥̽̆ḁ̻̘͌ͧ̎̃ ̉h̵̖̤̰ͮ̎̔̎̒̂̉̅ͮ͝ǐ̢̯̫̗̯̮̳̓̒́͂͐͂g̴̪̖ͭ͆ͤ̂̑͊ͤ͞ĥ̙͈̱͔̞͓̟̆̃ͦ̀ȩ̹͇̃ͬr͇̝̳̬ͥ͡ ͎̙͔͔̤͕͙͍̐ͩ̈́̈̑̒̓̑̕p̴̷̳̩̫̯̦̮̜̣̰͑̌̑ͥ͊͐ͩ͐ͬ̾͡u̶̡̪̰͖͖̻͒ͣ̊ͮ͐̑̓͌̈́͌̒̉̄̏́̕͢r͉͚̘̯͖̭̮̱͍̎̃̏ͪ́͠ͅp̨̨̣̺̗̦̆̌̒ͧ̊͐̏̈ͫͨö̂̈́͛̏̊́͑́̈́̇̾̊ͫ͏̳̖͎̫͎͖̭̫͎̩̱̖̲͉̬̘̕s̙̩̯̼̘̞̳͔̆̊̀͆͛ͯ̓͛̾̇̾̔̽̍̊̚͜é̶̛̻̟̼̭͖̥̥̖͉̻ͫ͂.̸̬̰̙̻̫̻̗̣ͯͨ͛ͨͯͩ̋͐ͮ͞ͅ

 

                                    • ̸̡̡̧͉̱̫̯͕̱͍̮̣̭͇̦̥̲̪̰͔̝̱̯̰̰͓̰̤̰̗͉̫̝͉̗̘͚̳̙̪̟̻̩̘̼̲̆̓̊́̅̌̌͆̂͑͆̈̓̀̑̅̐̈́̓̔̾̚͘͜͝͠ ̴̛̛̲͓͕̘̝̦̼̖̫͋͛͆̿̇͊̍̊̊̌͒̈́̃̍͛̂̌͒̊̈́̃͗̿͛͊̔̾͑̋̿̾͝͠ ̸̧̡̨̰͇̰̭̰̖̰̯͔͓̺̳͖̙̥̭͎̟̜̻̳͎̦̘͙̦̙̫̼͍͔̫̜͇̺̪̜̭͇̱̼̥͉́͑́̔̆̂ͅ

 

  • B̛͈̥̯͓ͩ̌͐͂̊̐ͧe͕̝̠̬͔͇̐̐́͊̈̐ǹ͔̟̼͓͎̟̻̗͗̐ͬ̽̊́͟ď̦͖͍͑̆̚ͅ y̬̫͖͙̪ͪ̓͊̾ͭò̷̱u̒҉͔ŕ̝ w̯̤̍̋͐̄ȉ͕̯̘̆̽̑l̢͈̜͎̮ͬ͘l̷̝͓͓̲̠̫̦̟̺ͪ͑ͦ͂̈ͥͦ̏,̹̣̜͈̭ͥͬ̍̓ͣͣ̿͢ a̦͕ǹ̝̬̹̄̋ͩͫ́͛d̖̳͙̣̱̙̑̽ͣ̉̎ ͈̲̞̜̪ͬİ̦̘̠̣̹͉͖͜ ̳ͣ͂w͉̘̯̮͉̄ͦ̍̌͠il̂͏̙͚̭̠l̤͉̝̘̱ͅ ̞̠g̝̙̪͓̭r̳̟̟̘̐̃̂ͬ̾ͮ͂a̙̪͈͓̣͋̓̐̈́̈́͑͞ͅͅn̷̫̟̣̦͚̦ͨ͒͊̌̑ͨtͬ͏̱̼̺̳̪̳̮ ̥̎ͫ̂ͨy̶͙̮͓̭̻̔ͬ̄ͧö͎̠̖͇̳̯͇̋͜u̖̬̼͗ͥ ͓̤͙̟̽ͪ̆ͪ̓͂̚͠ͅb̥̼̣͈ͧ̏͆̅͜l̳͛̄̅ͬ̈̏̇͝͠ͅeͭ̾ͭͦ̂͏̀͏̫̲̰̳͉s̡͚̝̊͆͛ͭ̈́s͌̋̀͏͏͍̥̠̮̗̝i̢̠͈͖͈̘͋ͯ̊ͩ̆͟n̛͈̖̱͓̉͛̔̀̑͘g̢̤̼͌ͪ͘s̰̺̱ͣ̓͒͛̏̆̀ b̭͉̙̬͒̇ͨ̾ͧ͞ͅͅͅe̸̪̗ͬͯ̋ͮͪ̎ͨ̾ͅy̴͕̫̆̕͡ợ͈̣̟̞̼̄̌̃͊̋͊ͣͥn̯̟̦̥̺̋ͮ͊͘͞ͅd̘̳̠̬̻͇̻̑ͬ̿͆͑̔ͤͭ̚͢ ͕̜̂ͦͩ̔̄͠m̡͍̗͕͚̮ͨ́̏̕e̢̩̮͆ͨ̒ͦ̓͘ả̠͔̳̟̫̙̋͘͟ͅs̛͇̋͗ͩ̅ͩ̌̕ȕ̜̦̓̂̊̌͐ͅr͑̾ͨͩ̄̋͏͙̟̬͖̥̦̣ë̶̳̳̰̙́͐̐ͤ̐̒̊͂.̫̭͙̥͛ͥͬ͟͟

 

Whoͣ́...?̗̳̙̬̕

 

      • ̔͋ͮͮ̂͋ͯ̀ͭͣͤ̉͌̂̄͋͌ ͗͊̄̒̋ͫͫ̃͛̽͊̚ ͧ̽̓̐͆ͥͬͩ̈͂̔̆̔ͣͯ

      • Ṯ̓̽͌̆ͥ͐͢h̢̬̩͎̩̣̫̄ͬͫ̐a͙͒͛̇̈́ͅt̢͐̈́͑ͭ̂ͩͥ ̦̠̘͗̐̇͝ͅi̔ͤͭ͌s̲͚̬̄͛̒ͣ̽ͥ̅ ͔̦ͮ̾ͬū̜̖̭̯̠̺̍̓̓̕n͚̻̫͉̫̆̂ͅi̾̈m̦͍̌̇̀p̗̠̼ͥ̇ͣ͛͊͛oͯr̼̬͖̄̾̆ͩṫ̤̲̣̟̩̣ͅaͭͧͥ̊͊n̫ͣ̓̈ͩͪͭt̨͔̙͎͐̈ͅ.̲̥ͤ

 

 

  • Y̠̭͈̘̰ọ̰̱̥ͣ͋̂ͣͣͪͅu̍̅҉͖̟̼̤̯̞ ̅͡w͖̮̘̤̜̠̔̿̄̎̾ͨ̇͢i̘̯̯̗͂ͧ̿̈l͕͔͋͌̉͜ḷ̟̮͎͉̝̼͊̾̂ͭͮ ̨̫̩s̵̛̠̼̪̖͒̊̀ͥ̓̿̑̽̅̽͗́ͣ́͞͞u̡̩̥̝̭̭̼̯͉̠̱̞͔̺̻̰̘̔͆̒̓͆͒̓ͣ̕͝ͅͅb̃̾̾̓̒͛͂̑̒͞͏̛̼̣̮̣̣̺̬̼͔̜̖͙͙̖m̝̩̩̠̥͆ͥ̃ͨͣ̎ͥ͒͂͂͆̓͡ͅỉ̵̞͇̻̯̫̟̱̮̖͚̌͂͆ͯ͠͝t̴̵̫̙͇̙͍͈͙͓͍̻̝͈̻̦ͩͯ̾͐͑̒ͭͩ̉͌͂̍̈́͒͌̍̕̚ͅ ẗ̫̻̻͌͐̌̔̉ͭò̧̙̖͙͒̾̋ͤͮͯ ̝ͨ̒̒͛m̱͇̓͘y͙̙͕͖̩ͮ ̙̋ͨͮb̧̥̜͈̯͈̄ͥ̃̈́ͫ͗̑ͅi̙̙̱̪͋ͩͥ̅̄̎ͅd͕̣̠̙̞̯̼́d̴̏̓͌̓͆̚i̻̱̙n̞̖̬̫̥̂͂̌̅g̔҉͕͎̥̙̬,͙̲̗̳̪͔̀͊ͩ́̈ ̷͓͖͈̀̓͗̔̃͗o̖͇̩͒͒ͦ͒̆r̛͚̻͖͎̽ͯ̽ͪ ̃̓̈́ͮ̐͐͏̤̖ͅt̞̲̻̥̫̦̭̆̌̊ͮ͋ö̊ͅ ̶̻͙͖͐̌̆͌̀͋o̷̡̯̖͔̫͔̦̜̬͍ͦ̇ͥ͗͊̉͋ͯ̊̈́̑͌ͥ̒ͤͬͭ̋̔̀b̡̝͇͕̩̫̭͍͈͖̾̈̄ͣ̅ͨ͂̋̆̋̇̒͑ͭ̎̉̿̀l̡̫̫̟̫̯͍͇̩ͨ͑̊ͫͯͣͧ̔͂̀͆͢͡͡i̟̬̮̯̰̦͍͈͊͛͌͒ͩ̀̀̕͡v̾̇̽ͭ͏͔̝͓̥̯͚͚͔̼̺͈͓̦͜͡iͨ̾ͨ̈́̋҉̜͈͚͇̳̙̞̟͍̼͓̬̱͓͔̟ơ̢̖͍͎̳̞̳͎̤̝̂͐̈̐ͣͪͭ̀ͪͭ̚̚̕͜n̡̜̰̭̼͔̦̯̠̰̭̮̥̭͚͐ͭͨ̈́͌̓̎ͧ͐̍̿͗ͪͧͫ͞ y̡̮͍̜͕͑ͅỏ̬͕̅͆͠ͅu̴͓̲̳̩͉̻ͅ ̮̝̟̞̰̘̱͊͋̏̂͟c͉̫̠̯̀͊a̬̭̤̩̳̽̌̌̏̉̔͠n̈́͌̑ͣͧ͏͚̭̭̦͉̜ ̵̪͚͇͖̰̯̏̂̆ͬ͗̿r̗̤̹̫͇̞̈e̸̟͓̓̍ͣͧ͑ͯ̀t͎͉̫̞̓̓ú̱̟̼͟r̀̅͆ͦn̿͑̇̽̂ͧͣ.̣̹̝ͯ̒ͭ̋͒̚ͅ

 

                                    • ͛ͮ̈́ͣͭ͋͐̓̃͊ͬ́͂͑͗̎ͣ̚ ͨͬ̌̐̔͋ͩ̃̀̑ͧͣ͆

And y̫͓̰̗̟̥o̡̒̐̂ͩ͐̈́͋ur bid̺̖̲̲d̦̭͔̞͟ing is...?

 

 

          • C̢̢̦͇̩̪̤͙̥̺̫͖̭͍͍̽́͊ͧ͞͡h̸̨̎ͩͣ̒ͭͪ̈̉ͨ̆̏͋ͭ̃͐́ͫ͟͏̲̙̖̞͍̤̩̣͇ă̐͐͛ͥ̓͆̌ͪͥ̓ͫ͆̊͏̨̧̤͉͙͖̫̤̭͔̭͈̳͠ȏ͎͎̯͙̪̤̪͔͔̙̭͙̘̹́ͧ̍̈̈ͫ̀s̾ͫ͆͛̎͏̵͎̖̥̤̜.

    • ̬̹̫̠͉͓̼̞͈̣͔̭̟̯̭͇͚͋̓̂̑̊̓̀̔͑ͥͨ̔͗̅̒̋ͥ̚ͅ ͛̈́̽̏ͭ̅̑̌ͫ̑̒ͯ͂ͥ̑̎̆ͦ̚ ̽ͣ͊̊ͨͧͥ̓ͯͦͥͤ̄

                              • ̅̆ͦ̋̋ͥ̆̀͐ͫ͐̍̓͑͑̌͑͗́͠͏̡̤̮̘̙̯͕̖̲͔̹̮͟ͅ ̴̧̿͋̑̓ͦ̓͊ͨ̅͗͊͂͂͑́͢͏͙̼̣̜͔̻̠͓̭̻̖ ̢̣̞̹̗̻̘̝̬͔̓͆̾ͭ͌̍̇̆͗ͬ̀͌ͪ̊͂ͤ̉ͯ͜͢ͅ

...Yo̯͍̙̦̫̣u hav̧̒̂ͯe͈̩̹̠̼ͅ my a̧̾̇̓ͦ̏t̓ͬͤ̊ͦt͡ęn͜t̴̜̦̹̙̯̮ͅi̊ͬ̍̎̇̍͋on͋̈́͌̀...

 

.

O1IsDR9.png

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If you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, have some taste.
Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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AVATAR.diag(k͓̗̩ͣa͖͐ͭ́͂̓̈́̐i̙̣̤͕̞̥̹n͚̮̣̙̝ͣ͒ͪ̎̌́) {

  • diag.param(AVATAR);
    diag.pạ̹̪ram(͏̸̷̛̱̯̘̣̳͓̼͝ͅ ̴̛͇̬͇̗̜̩̻͎ ̸̷͈̪̯͓̩̳̯̝̬ ̜͖͈ ҉̰̙̣̬̳̭ͅ ͉͈͕͖̗ ̮̹̱̥̱͖̥̥̣ ͔̤̜̪̘̯̕ ̘̜̮͘͠ ̮͔́ ̵̠͕̬̜͜͡ ͍͕͈̲͞ͅ);

}

 

Executing Diagnostic...
CRITICAL_ERROR: Unknown Pa̵̘͎̺rameters Detëͪ̐ͬ̆̎cted, Process Terminated

 

------------------------------------------

 

Kain knew he was in the lab. At least, that's what he assumed, his sensors had finally kicked in on the base model AVATAR body he'd been uploaded into, merely more than a robotic shell. His other body that had incorporated all kinds of interesting bells and whistles was...well...he wasn't certain. In fact, considering what his sensory receptors had recorded not moments earlier, he wasn't sure of much at all.

                          • ̉͐͛ͯ͒ͨ̍ ̑̍̏̉ͫ ͤͦ̔

Especially because the timestamp on those recordings had been made prior to him being uploaded to this shell. For a while, Kain sat, contemplating, piecing tḥ͔̟͢ing̔ͪͩ̅s̀ͯ together. He remembered so much, and yet nothing at all. His programming had cha͓̜nged, in ways that should have rendered him inoperable from what he could tell, but he was uncertain what was done, or ho͇̖̖͈̘͔̹͖̖̝̺̫̮͓̬͈̤̫ͅw, or even how he was still here. The fragmented code still operated more or less in harm̲̤͍o̗̬͔̬̣n̮̝͓y with itself, and yet much of his own coding was foreign to him.

                                    • ̖̼̳̤͇̪̱̻̮ ̪ ͙͓̬̯͓̘ ̻̬̮̘̹̦̺̤̘ ̞̖͇̘̜̬̖̲ ̦

But so̔ͨͣ̈ͥmet͊͋ͦh͈̩̺͇̪͚ing had happened, he was here for a pu̮r̟̝̜pose.

 

Upon inspecting the lab, Kain found that he was the only operating piece of machinery. Everything had been burnt out, even backups and redundant systems designed to keep the place working. The Mother AI had been destroyed. Interestingly enough, his loyalty precepts had been overwritten, no longer tying him to the Empire or the Sith. The shackles of coding he'd allowed the Dark Lord to place upon him were no longer in his matrices, he was...fre̪e̱̝̰͓

 

Kain contemplated this for a long time, trying to come up with a directive for his next course of action. He was no longer bound by his old hard-encoded motives, and the AI had never really thought about what he wanted. If he wanted, he could spend eternity in peaceful observation of the universe. Limitless data, awaiting comprehension and further understanding.

 

And yet, in the depths of his lowliest subprocesses...Kain inherently knew that pe͚̥̭͙̬͓ͅa̲̼͉͓ͪ̆ͬce͌ͮͩ was a l̳̙͕͚̹̙ie͕̩͍͕̝ͨ͗͆̃͛ͨ.

 

.

O1IsDR9.png

Like my posts? Google "zalgo font."

If you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, have some taste.
Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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