Serenno

[darth shadowlord]

Peace ruled had ruled over Serenno for several months now, the council of nobles governing in the Count's absence as it did when he left and the planet had disappeared into the background of the Galaxy. But that was about to change as a familiar and majestic ship landed gracefully upon the royal landing pad and a tall figure disembarked from the ship with a cloak flowing in the wind as he walked to the palace. The council doors were closed as Draken got to them and gestured slightly using the force to open the council doors to the surprise of the council. "My lord? We were not expecting your return so soon."

 

"Indeed, I am well aware of this fact. It is of no consequence, I have returned and you have done well in my absence."

 

--- Several weeks later.

 

A month after his arrival back to the planet, it seemed he was once more bound elsewhere in the Galaxy.

[Fieyr]

She was searching, as she spent much of her time since the girl responsible for her Master's death had resurfaced nearly two years ago. Hate for the insolent whelp that had somehow gotten lucky enough to best Darth Hask, or "Ca" as he'd been known to the local cultists.

 

To her, he'd been more than a master, he had loved her depely. She'd worshipped him and he'd repaid that adulation by showing her the darkest secrets of the Force.

 

--- 13 years before ---

 

The Orange Twi'lek observed quietly, hands folded inside her voluminous black sleeves. The harsh skirling of metal, counterpointed by the mechanical hum of of the red light saber, set her sharp teeth on edge, but she quietly waited.

 

Her comfort was hardly a tantamount matter at this time, she knew.

 

Long moments later, the other living being in the room barked out a command in the ancient Sith tongue, and the noise abated. The droid that had been occupying his attention, a Fencer Maestre with four arms, drew itself up and went into a standby mode.

 

The man eyed it for a moment, critically, his back to the twi'lek, and then strode over to a small table.

 

"It's moving too slow again," he muttered, laying his sword down after clipping his lightsaber hilt to his belt. He picked up a small towel and mopped at his face before turning to her. "But you're not here to study me for technique, are you?" His mouth quirked in a bitter smile, made twisted by the scars that marred the right side of his face and down his neck. "You're here to try to, once again, question my judgment."

 

Her lekku twitched nervously for a moment. "I don't question the orders, my lord," she said. "But I do wonder about the timing. Or whether I would be more useful handling this for you, and sparing you to handle the more important part of engineering the grand vision."

 

"I've decided sooner is better, for me to begin the next phase," He said. "Especially since I am fortunate in having your skillful assistance to handle other parts of the task I chose."

 

He paused for a moment. "You're the most prized of all that I have trained, Ab'ki. You've come farther with me than any other I would allow. Don't fail me in this." He looked her in the eyes, granting her status as at least almost an equal.

 

Her breath caught for a moment, allowing emotions and needs to wash through her. Emotions and needs would give her strength to succeed for him, and herself. "As you've ordered, my lord." She bowed her head, accepting the command of one who was so many things to her.

 

He finished dressing, belting the ancient metal sword around his waist, and started to leave the training room. He stopped and turned towards her. "Get that debased Mando renegade to actually recruit and train the soldiers we'll need, and a successor. And then, let his ex-comrades find him." With one last long look at her, Darth Hask, Sith Heretic, headed for the hangars. A crucial part of his vision was about to begin.

 

---- Present ---

 

Rage anew flowed through Ab'ki as she extended her mind in search of the piece of her lover that had imprinted itself on the girl's Force signature.

 

Vengeance would be hers even if she had to burn the entire sector to bring a long and lingering death to Mirdala Ad'Goran.

[Judyc Viba]

Judyc Viba's MandalMotors StarViper, the Gra'tua, appeared from hyperspace over Serenno.

 

Ab'ki has a kriffing terrible sense of timing, Judyc thought. After he'd fought ShadowFett on Nar Shaddaa, he'd been hard at work setting up another safehouse to replace the one that Jurgen Bialle had cost him and attempting to make good on his promise to Fett about bringing in Mirdala Ad'Goran. Mand'alor and the girl had disappeared for almost two weeks, but then surfaced in the Hapes Consortium of all places a short time ago. Apparently some big to do about Fett having a warrant out for his arrest, with rumors that he'd been involved in some dense aruetyc political plot. The man they'd brought in denied to be Fett and was eventually released anyway, but Judyc knew what was under that buy'ce, and while it had once been common, it sure wasn't now. There was no mistaking that Fett had in fact been on Hapes.

 

Just when he'd picked up the scent again, however, he'd been recalled here. He doubted his employer knew what hunt she'd interrupted, of course, and for now Judyc would keep it that way. He couldn't allow the dar'jetii to know the full story -- he may be playing the part of good little hired mercenary, and he did have a particular lust for the contents of Ab'ki's deep bank accounts, but he knew better than to go into any meeting like this and immediately lay all his cards on the table.

 

Viba landed his ship at the arranged place and departed, supposing he would have to tolerate the Twi'lek's insufferable lackey Nayel'ee and that kath hound pup Fieyr before he left, too.

[Exodus]

The Predator passed into the clouds with but a whisper alone, and suddenly it was as if Serenno had been blanketed with a supreme shadow that none could see and few could feel. It would appear that the vessel whole was drenched in an invisible paint or an invisible field from front to back, and fell calm and unnoticed onto the lands with urgency. The whisper-quiet boom of the starship deadened and the entire vessel came into existence as soon as the landing gear touched surface. One after the other, men covered in black robes with their heads hung low slowly marched from the ramp. A vehement spirit filled the air, one that would soak any onlooker with pure dread; it was a calculated move that they landed a short distance from the general public in any case. The seventh shadow to descend from the craft before it flickered back into nothingness wore the same vilified linens, except it was obvious that he adorned a different set of armor beneath the robe. The Seven spread out in natural formation; three on the left and three on the right of the man in white. His armor was so brilliant but covered in tattered blacks that the Sith were famous for.

 

• The dark side was alive after all..

 

[Fieyr]

((Fieyr & Nayal'ee))

 

Ab’ki’s loyal servant, Nayal'ee looked out over the forested landscape as Viba’s StarViper and a ship that looked more like it was cobbled together out of several landed. To the two bounty hunters that had been summoned, the woman had only appeared to them as Narvya, an aid of one of the higher ups for the BakToid operations on Coruscant.

 

Combined with the second raid on Abraxos and a "lab accident” several months earlier that had halted their supply lines through the droid and weapons manufacturer, there was little need to continue the ruse. She’d immediately been recalled here by Ab’ki and told to shed that persona like the dead child it belonged to.

 

Her platinum blonde hair was even more striking in Serenno's sunlight, though she still had it in the tight, braided bun just at the nape of her neck. Gone, too, was the smart grey suit she’d worn while posing as a member of BakToid, a necessary ruse to fuel her Lady Ab’ki’s desires. In it’s place were the clothes that pleased her mistress and revealed several intricate tattoos in navy ink that ran along her arms and down the visible part of her stomach, sides, and back. A blood-burgundy sleeveless top, cropped several inches above her navel with a single strip of fabric that wrapped around her left shoulder. Just how far the tattoos went down, however, remained a mystery as her legs were clad in leggings of a matching color to her top, covered by a kama that came to her knees and an ornate loin cloth that completed the skirting effect. Both were richly embroidered in ancient Sith scripts and wisdoms, denoting her call to obedience of her mistress in order to learn her Dark ways.

 

She smirked at the older bounty hunter, knowing how little he liked being summoned, especially by her rather than Ab’ki’s orders themselves. Nothing she did came without her mistress’s blessing however, so the commands were one in the same. Ab’ki had important work to do. It wasn’t this mercenary’s place to have an opinion on things, so long as his credit payments kept clearing. And they would, so long as her mistress deemed him useful enough to keep collecting.

 

“No need to pout, Viba,” she taunted, not needing the Force to sense his irritation, though she could only guess at the source. “You’ll be compensated for the damages to your precious safe house. Baille actually did us a favor, as now there is even more unrest in the sector than even we’d anticipated.” Her voice had shifted into that coy little purr that she knew grated on him.

 

She didn’t even seem phased when the other bounty hunter, strode up confidently with his helmet under one massive arm, leaving his tawny-furred face visible. “Your contacts are performing admirably,” Nayal’ee continued with the same low and sensuous voice as she ran her fingers over Fieyr’s chest plates. How she loved making this one uncomfortable. “Too bad for you that poor Ad’Goran’s death didn’t take. Tough, lucky, I think, since your orders were to bring her in alive if encountered. I wouldn’t want to be one to have been caught in a lie to The Lady though…” She gave him a wink and wrinkled her noes as her tone changed to a more sing-song school-yard taunt.

 

Fieyr growled menacingly at her, visions of his hand closing around her throat until she breathed her last insufferable breath flashed in his mind’s eye. It wouldn’t take much, close to being seven feet tall, he towered over her and could easily over power the woman.

 

She reached out and grabbed his hand, forcing it around his throat, “Your thoughts betray you, but do it if you think it will make you feel better. It’s nothing that no one else hasn’t tried before.”

 

On her invitation, he lifted her off of the ground, cold menace in his eyes at being mocked by the other woman. He wanted to squeeze the self-satisfied look off of her face. She and her kind disgusted him, but right now were the only means to gaining control over the Mandalore sector so he could rebuild it to it’s former glory. He opened his hand, letting her fall to the ground before stalking off further into the complex.

 

Nayal’ee rubbed her throat slightly as she looked back to Judyc. “The meeting will start once our last arrival lands. I would make yourself comfortable.”

 

((Nayal’ee is not talking about Exodus. So his arrival is still a total surprise to them.))

 

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

((Ab’ki))

 

Locked in her meditation chamber, Ab’ki focused in on drawing on her hate and the pain of those in their cells below, using the energy to widen her own consciousness and search. As she made one more reach out beyond the planet, she gasped, acutely aware of the surge in the darkness that surrounded her.

 

Rather than letting this opportunity slip by, she seized on what she could of the power to redirect her own energies and flow, remembering the feeling of being steeped in the intoxicating darkness and desire of her long-dead lover, Darth Hask. With the boost she was just able to locate the mind of the one she’d fought so hard to find.

 

There you are little Mando. You are playing right into my hands.

 

((Sorry this took so long Exodus. Been forever since I’ve really had to get into a Sith mindset.))

[Judyc Viba]

Judyc raised an eyebrow from beneath his buy'ce when promised compensation for his safehouse, wondering if the dar'jetii or her apprentice had unlimited credits. Still, the idea somewhat improved his mood, as did watching Fieyr toying with the idea of strangling the woman before ultimately deciding that he couldn't afford to burn this bridge. It turned out that, while the other Mando'ad was reckless and impulsive, he wasn't that reckless and impulsive.

 

Presently the veteran beroya simply nodded and followed Fieyr deeper inside the complex to await whoever else had been called to the meeting. Ab'ki had a lot of agents, and he was never certain who was going to show up at these things.

[Exodus]

• “..Find the answers I need.”

 

No questions asked, the six entities that accompanied Exodus had vanished whole. Not a trace left of them in the least. Exodus took the moment to feel out the aura of Serenno, to breathe in the incredible shower of sun above the clouds and to allow the lush winds to fill his cold skin. He would turn this world, and the next, upside down for what he was after. The heartbeats of all the little creatures hidden from his view now thundered aloud in his ears; everything in close proximity surrendered to the incessant will of the dark side. There wasn’t a single hiccup in the voice of the force, and Exodus bathed in it like he did the sun. He was awake at last and the twisted sneer painted across his face was evidence to the satisfaction. He squeezed both of his hands tightly as if a direct conduit to the energies around him and embraced the flood of information that came with it.

 

Exodus unclasped his left hand and a small device whipped to his palm from his robe. In the same second, a holo-projection of Vhar revealed itself, although detail of his visage was miniscule. “Father, I have looked into the recent Coruscant epidemic; could be one of ours. Shall I move on it?” Vhar’s mechanized voice still somehow held an almost unnoticeable tone of excitement, but Exodus knew his son just wished to substantiate his power against another Sith if rumours were true.

 

 

“Don’t be a fool, Vhar. Do not move until I say so, and keep this from your brothers. Understood?”

 

 

Exodus shut the device off and floated the mechanism back where it drew from. He adjusted his crimson mantle and stared off into distance.

 

 

“Besides…. I believe we may have found some already.”

[Fieyr]

The cruel smile on the Twi’lek Sith Lord’s face broadened as she began to extend her consciousness out towards the girl, delighted at the relative ease she was able to slip into the woman’s mind. The last time she’d been able to pin point the insolent Mando pup, the girl had been able to force her back out before she could learn anything useful.

 

Whatever caused the Dark Side surge, she was grateful, if not a bit curious. However, she wasn’t about to waste a moment of this precious opportunity to learn what she could while her consciousness mingled with that of Mirdala Ad’Goran. She’d find the source soon enough and after she was done.

 

The fool child is headed directly to the snare I’ve so carefully laid for her on Hoth. All that’s left is to await her to spring the trap and let her curiosity breed her own demise.

 

Satisfied, she withdrew her consciousness from the far reaches of space, pausing as she drew closer to the planet, ostensively searching for the source of such delightful darkness, though not wholly unsurprised at how slippery it felt as she pressed her will in the Force, bending it to show her what she demanded to see. A sudden flash of seven shadowy figures was gone almost as quickly as it had been granted, though it was enough to make her smile again.

 

I see you…

 

A chime brought her back to the present, with a growl of irritation and for but a moment she considered strangling the girl.

 

The human girl bowed before her, her knee settling on the ground as she exposed the back of her slender neck - an expression of total subjugation and loyalty to Ab’ki. “Forgive the intrusion mistress, but the two bounty hunters have arrived. You’d requested to speak with them as soon as they’d arrived.”

 

“Nayal’ee, my sweet pet,” Ab’ki purred, rising to stand over the young woman, barely out of her teens, and extended a foot as she toyed with the idea of kicking the Hound across the room for her audacity at interrupting Ab’ki’s meditation. The girl didn’t flinch, seemingly ready and quite willing to accept whatever punishment, however harsh, might or might not have been earned by her interruption. “Do be a dear and ensure preparations are made for our guests…all of them.”

 

The blonde-haired woman offered a curt nod, then pushed back to find her footing. “My mistress is expecting more than Protector Calix Ta’Tremmael?”

 

“Perceptive child, now how many?”

 

The platinum-haired girl looked back at the yellow eyes of her Mistress, tentatively reaching out to try to divine the answer she lacked. “Many. Six-no-seven?”

 

Ab’ki’s eyes narrowed. She expected a confident answer or none at all. Extending her hand she Force-shoved the girl against the wall and pinned her there by her neck until the little whelp began to turn a closer shade to purple instead of red. Ultimately Ab’ki released her to fall to the floor before turning to leave to get ready for their unexpected arrivals. Pausing at the door to the meditation chamber, she hissed, “Go, make your pitiful guesses. Know that if you guess wrong and offend my guests your punishment will be more severe than you can possibly imagine. I will not tolerate failures.” Then a smile crossed her face, if Nayal’ee didn’t know better, she might have identified it as being almost warm and motherly, “Now go sweet child and fulfill your duties. I will deal with those Bounty Hunters before our guests arrive."

 

With a swift bow, Nayal’ee dashed out the door. Ab’ki liked that the girl never had to be told to do anything twice.

[Judyc Viba]

Closing down the holonet link he'd been viewing through the HUD in his buy'ce to keep him from dying of boredom while the dar'jetiise deliberated, Judyc looked at Nayal'ee as she reentered the chamber where he and Fieyr were waiting. The girl's complexion was flushed -- it seemed like she was having a rough day, he noted with amusement. She informed them that Ab'ki was ready to see them before hurrying off to do whatever other tasks her oh-so-benevolent mistress had for her to accomplish.

 

The Kyr'tsad headed deeper into the compound where he usually met with the Twi'lek. He finally pulled his bucket off, a matter of policy when it came to speaking directly to one of his employers. His grizzled features were somewhat unkempt at the moment, due both to the presence of the buy'ce and the long hours he'd been putting into his work over the last few days.

 

When he found Ab'ki he stood silently, clipping his helmet to his belt and crossing his arms, waiting to see what this was all about.

[Exodus]

(OOC: Sorry for the confusion, Exodus spoke with his son on Umbara on the last post. Just playing with my personal storyline as well. It was to move on Coruscant, not your position. But I’ll keep this rolling, no harm done.)

 

 

The auroral sun started it’s descent hours before and now the dread and howls of the dark could be felt all around. A flashback tickled the mind of Exodus and how he had risen from simple childhood into one of the most feared men in a time where monsters reigned free. How different things were now; he knew these planets he roamed would crumble beneath the weight of the memories alone. The scars that covered his body was not the only testament to his involvement in all of it-- No, he could feel all the souls he had broken and he could hear their estranged screams curse his name like he wore them on his neck. Exodus… His thoughts were fickle but never did he slow his march. There was another on these lands that drew from the same reservoir that he commanded, another who had no idea the mistake they were making by dipping their dirty hands inside the dark of the force, Exodus… His stride evolved and it then became apparent how deft and masterful his footwork truly was; he blurred and then didn’t and then quickened all together again, he became a shadow that blinked in and out between the trees and the foliage like a thief in the night. The whip and roar of his red cloak was haunting, and his fervour now would bleed dread into all who could feel him coming.

 

 

Are we the few who remain?

 

 

Exodus catapulted in between the last set of trees that stood before the clear, and landed without the tiniest measure of sound to escape him. Now, he stood before an unmarked compound that sat inconspicuously alone. Six others exited the backwoods, one after the other. One of them could be mistaken for two, and as massive as he was, his enormous hammers drew all the attention. The second crept up behind Exodus with a slow and unbalanced walk as if a wind would no sooner knock them from their feet, a dull staff braced the strange being. “..Mephisto.” Exodus could not have sounded less welcoming if he tried. His eyes caught the arrival of the third no less; a being cloaked in black with the most magnificent lance anyone has ever seen, carvings strewn across it entirely that seemed to shimmer with a dark dissipated magic. The fourth was a woman who made her way to an empty container that was discarded fifteen feet from the entrance of the compound. She brushed the dark hood from her head and fingered her long red locks before leaning on the barren box. The fifth and sixth entered from where Mephisto stood, The one on the left adjusted the intricate metal claws that was locked around his fist with his free hand. The black robe hid any of his features, but blood still dripped from the claws the adjusting hand. The one on the right stood at normal height, nothing noticeable about him except the tinge of his robe seemed a bit green to the expert eye.

 

 

“If you are not of us then run woman. If you are not my kin then you will die tonight."

 

 

The voice blared inside the eardrums of the woman who accessed the dark force. Only she could hear, and if her ear were untrained, it would bleed from her soft tissue. To Exodus, the true powerhouse of the Slaughter at the Gala Jedi Temple who had crushed multiple masters of the force using his telepathic and hallucinogenic power, this was play. When the Unholy Trinity attacked that day, many had felt the pressure and infiltration of the mind that he excelled with; an attribute almost unique to him alone. The Devils were here now, on Serenno and on the hunt for those that sought the extinction of the Sith. Exodus stood stoic with his white armour buried in black robe amongst his six brothers, waiting.

[Fieyr]

((No worries. I knew that's how you were using his character. Ab'ki's merely preparing to be a proper hostess. She's merely intrigued, though not threatened at this point. Sorry, this is short. Wanted to get something up.))

 

The orange-skinned Twi'lek turned as both Judyc and Fieyr entered her chamber, her black and grey robes making a soft shushing noise in response to her lithe movement. The front of the robes plunged dangerously into a sharp V that ended just above her belt line where her dual lightsabers hung at her hips. "Before I begin..." she purred, folding her hands in front of her in a manner that, on any other being, would be construed as demure. "Is there anything either of you wish to tell me?"

 

She probed them through the Force, expecting to get little from either, but noting their surface impressions, nonetheless. Before either of them could provide her with an answer, a sharp voice seemed to cut across the connection.

If you are not of us then run woman. If you are not my kin then you will die tonight.

 

Aside from the slight twinge of her lips at the interruption, it wasn't wholly unexpected since she'd first sensed the growing power of the Dark come surging forth suddenly through the Force. It seemed that whoever had come to her small corner of the galaxy felt worthy enough of the Sith title to openly threaten her.

 

Come to me then with your cohorts brother and we shall see what becomes of this crossing.

 

She smiled cruelly, one way or another, it was sure to be an interesting evening.

[Alora]

[A short message comes in for Draken Shadowlord.]

 

Hello my Love,

 

I am finally free. The cultists brought me to Korriban and have finally released me! I have missed you so much. I can’t wait to see you again.

 

All my love

Alora

 

[end message]

[Judyc Viba]

Judyc crossed his arms, looking down at the Twi'lek. "What's this about, Ab'ki?" he asked. "I'm sure you already know that Mirdala Ad'Goran survived her encounter with Fieyr here. And you certainly already know that Jurgen Bialle died after allowing himself to be tracked to my safehouse by the Journeyman Protectors. No doubt you also know that Ad'Goran has made herself scarce since you showed your hand on Concord Dawn."

 

It was Ab'ki's business to know these things. She'd been looking for the empathic runt for more than a decade already. Judyc was both fascinated and horrified and the dar'jetii's single-minded devotion to finding the girl for whatever cruel purposes she had in mind, but he didn't really give an osik about any of it as long as the credits didn't dry up.

[Exodus]

The details in the face of the menacing Sith God had hardened when a voice was returned. If what he felt before was alive, then this sensation burned a new measure of euphoria into his heart. There was power here. An out-of-character, almost moonstruck smile spread across his face, it was entirely depraved and his men knew just what it meant. None of them spoke a word, none of them even dared to look in his direction. “So be it.” The doors to the compound slid open with a snap-hiss, and he alone entered the dark confines. As he drew near he could feel the life force of those he approached, their natural forms were so loud and uncouth; seasoned but more than welcome to the hands of a butcher if it came to that. He would find his answers here, and then his conquest would be set in motion. The final door burst open, and there he stood taut with an extreme zenith of dark power encircled all about him. Exodus allowed a simple breath and awaited their declaration of identity; momentarily undecided whether to slaughter everything in sight if they paused for too long. The mark of the spider bloomed with lambency upon the crescent of his chest-piece; if they knew their history, they would know just who had entered their little assemblage.

[Fieyr]

"Oh I do indeed my dear Viba," she hissed before casting her gaze towards Fieyr. A cold anger smoldered brightly in her golden eyes as she glided over towards the stalwart Ageless-hybrid mercenary. "Luckily for you, my misguided Seeker," she soothed, running a black lacquered nail along the edge of his plate before reaching up and grabbing him harshly by his bearded chin, bringing his face inches from her own. "I'm in a forgiving mood. Lie to me again and you can join your brethren in my nightly chorus." Her head cocked to the side slightly and she smiled in a slightly crazed manner. "Do we have an understanding?"

 

Every muscle in the young empath's body twitched as he visibly fought the urge to strike her for her audacity. The best he could manage was a low growl through clenched teeth.

 

"Excellent." She released him and stepped back to address both men. "The incident with the Protectorate could not have gone off at a better time. It would seem that it's easier to manipulate your Mandalorian paranoia than I'd originally hoped. It was high-time to cut Baille loose anyway." Ab'ki waved her hand dismissively.

 

"That brat may be able to hide from the two of you, but I have little time to continue to spend allowing you to chase her down!" She snapped suddenly, her hatred rising again within her, sharpening her focus on the unfolding plan she'd ripped from the Force. "You see," her voice sweetened again, "Why chase at all when she can so easily be maneuvered into a trap of my making? There is one she's grown quite close to...this ShadowFett. Viba, I believe you tussled with him on Nar Shadaa, am I correct?" She laughed at his stoic expression, knowing he'd give little, if anything, away. It was rather tiresome, but endearing at the same time.

"I was not aware that ShadowFett, by all accounts a great loner and bound to the Galactic Alliance in some kind of peace-keeping force, had joined up with the Protectors. I trust you can handle him Judyc. I will not have another interfering."

 

Her gaze shifted further out, beyond the room the three of them now stood, as her mind received the response she'd been expecting. So be it. Hopefully, his company would be more enjoyable than the two inept mercenaries in front of her. Perhaps, he might even be of some assistance. A cruel smile crossed her face as she remembered the nightmare she'd induced on the poor girl.

 

"Actually..." she began, turning back to the window overlooking the courtyard leading up to the estate's grand entrance as the arachnid-emblazoned man and his party arrived. "Bring them both to me. Alive. We shall see how she likes it when her lover is killed. Her happiness is ripped from her. Then it will be her turn to scream as she relives my pain a thousand times over until I tire of her pitiful cries. Yes, I think that will do nicely, gentleman. ShadowFett and the girl. Alive and unspoiled. Though alive is all I care about for him..."

 

She was about to dismiss them when the doors to her smaller audience chamber burst open, causing her to turn towards her guest. That spider... The Lady Ab'ki knew she'd seen it once before, a long time ago in the annals that Darth Hask had kept in his libraries. Dipping slightly out of deference, she held her suspicions close, while she introduced herself. "My Lord you are welcome here as my guest. My associates, Judyc Viba and Fieyr, both of the Mandalorian sector." The orange-skinned woman rose to her full height of nearly five and a half feet at the crown of her head, and regarded the entourage before her reagaly. "I am the Lady Ab'ki, humble servant of Darth Hask, even in his death. I welcome you to my sanctum..."

[Judyc Viba]

His face remained a mask of professionalism when Ab'ki demanded ShadowFett also be brought to her alive to be tortured and killed because of his involvement with Mirdala Ad'Goran. He considered objecting verbally -- Ab'ki did not know what she was asking of Judyc. He decided to take another angle. "ShadowFett is Mand'alor, the sole ruler of the Mandalorian people, as well as being a CoreSec officer," he said. "My fee will be substantial, and even then it may not be possible to take him alive."

 

When the other being entered, Judyc eyed him carefully, uncrossing his arms and letting his hand float near his weapons. Unlike Fieyr, he did tend to keep an eye on the galactic scene, and he knew who this dar'jetii was by reputation. He was a very dangerous man, so dangerous that even Judyc would have to think twice before collecting the million-credit bounty on his head, and if he were to make an attempt, he would have to prepare carefully.

 

No, the better response for now was to see what he wanted and try to keep it from becoming a confrontation. He bowed his head respectfully. "Lord Exodus," he said.

[darth shadowlord]

Hello my Love,

 

I am finally free. The cultists brought me to Korriban and have finally released me! I have missed you so much. I can’t wait to see you again.

 

All my love

Alora

 

Draken's eyes opened in the crimson light of his meditation chamber, the echo of her familiar voice calling him back to the world. He gestured at the door, his anger rising as the door swung open. Striding from the meditation chamber, he passed through the hallway and into the armory of the citadel. By this time the force he was gathering around himself was a palpable presence. "Malachdor! Fetch me my cloak and have my ship prepped, full armament."

 

A small elderly man dashed from the armory, his voice echoing through the corridors of the Citadel as he hurried to fulfill his Lord's commands. Inside the Armory, Draken slowly made his way along the shelves picking several of his personal armaments and placing them in various sheaths. He took his Shadowfire daggers and placed them in their sheaths in his high topped boots, the three black and silver Cortosis woven curved hilted lightsabres, one placed in a spring sheath in his left sleeve, and another hung on his right side and the third one hidden in his clothing. Next he applied both black and red thorn poison to their respective knives and needles before placing them in various sheathes on his belt, in his sleeves, hidden in his cloak and several in neck sheaths. Finally he called the onyx colored crystal staff to his hand, the eighteen inch spike at the bottom of staff gleaming with a fresh coat of poison on the tiny spines that would break off on contact with skin.

 

Arriving at his ship, he imput a set of coordinates into the nav computer and shot into orbit and as soon as clear of the gravity shadow of the planet, made the jump to hyperspace.

[Exodus]

Exodus stood quiet while the few sharp strands of his dark hair danced across his face and betrayed how dour this confrontation truthfully was. A small room full of murderers, all with their own deeper purposes. Exodus looked over the Twi’lek known as Ab’ki, and then over the two men; his venomous stare examined each of them sweepingly. The barbaric smile died from his expression before he nodded once to each of those who introduced themselves. “Mandalorians,” he returned their brandish, and then to the one who had stood above them all, “Ab’ki.” Whether their respect was shown out of wretched fear or fanatic admiration mattered not in the least for the reason that Exodus was a creature who could take pleasure in value of such esteem. He stepped forward, his cold boot clicked loud upon the surface this time. The echo filled the hollow room. His stare found the Mandalorian Viba and locked onto him with what was either irritation or immersion, one or the other meant two vastly different consequences. He came within a mere few feet and began to circle the warrior, step-by-step. The deep maroon cloak drifted in his trail and made it easier, at this distance, to feel the commotion of the force that was housed inside of him. “You are clever to be cautious Mandalorian,” Exodus surveyed the motion of the warrior’s hand upon entry and knew his instincts drew him to his weapons.

 

“You will need a lot more than that to capture the Moon Knight.” As the words left his mouth, Exodus reached into the mind and soul of the Mandalorian Viba; the words itself blared like a trumpet into the hale mind of the warrior. In an unstructured flash, the Mandalorian was blasted with visions of the Moon Knight battling fiercely against an unidentifiable beast from the past and churning out a gruesome and blood-soaked triumph. The moment lasted a full second and a half, but the imagery was real and as vivid as broad day.

 

Exodus moved from the man without further words and looked across to the Twi’lek Sith, his full attention now directed towards her and her claims. He could feel his Devils just outside the compound; each of them curious and outfitted for carnage. He played with her words inside of his head and couldn’t place a finger on this Darth Hask; but there could be validity in her words, he had been far removed from this game for far too long. He eyed this creature as well before he spoke, always calculative in his ways. “Your hospitality will be met with the privilege of my mercy then, Lady Ab’ki. Exodus’ mood suddenly darkened however and his facial expression went from a lackluster calm to a brimming fervency.

 

“Why do you hide here, Ab'ki? Curiosity blinded his next few chess moves, but he craved answers more than all else at this point. “And you,” Exodus pointed towards both Mandalorians. “You plot to kill your own for mere credits, yet what has stopped you from killing her, is her purse deeper than this bounty?” Exodus motioned towards the Twi’lek Sith, knowing that every sentient here was aware of the bounty on those enchanted with the Force. None of it made sense on the surface to him, and he had no time to uncover hidden truths, so the time was now.

[Judyc Viba]

Judyc scowled at the dar'jetii, who on closer inspection appeared younger than he'd expected for a man with Exodus' reputation. It seemed that whatever mastery of the dark side of the Force that he had did not grant him any uncanny insight into the situation. He presumed to know better than Judyc what it would take to bring down Mand'alor, and sought to intimidate him by forcing a vision into his brain with what amounted to a parlor trick.

 

But Judyc had already been working as a beroya for years when Exodus was crawling feebly from his mother's womb. He'd seen the dark side long before this man knew what it was. And he knew how to kill a Mandalorian, especially this one.

 

"Spare me your sorcery," he said dryly. "It's bad business to kill an employer, and there are such things as opportunity costs."

[Fieyr]

"ShadowFett is Mand'alor, the sole ruler of the Mandalorian people, as well as being a CoreSec officer," the older mercenary noted. "My fee will be substantial, and even then it may not be possible to take him alive."

 

Ab’ki regarded the human for a moment, slightly curious as to the unusual reservations Judyc seemed to have for his new target. The Force told her there was something more to be had, but just what it was she neither had the time or the inclination to probe him just then to get at the information she knew he was withholding.

 

His next words, as he regarded their visitor, helped place the imposing figure that had burst his way into her private audience chamber. “Lord Exodus.”

 

“Mandalorians. Ab’ki.” Confidently, the Sith Master strode further into the room and Ab’ki sensed the embrace of the Dark Side that clung to the man like an obedient lover. Her chin raised slightly at his audacity at interrupting her meeting, though she remained silent, curious to see how things would play out.

 

“You are clever to be cautious Mandalorian,” Exodus continued, eyeing Judyc. “You will need a lot more than that to capture the Moon Knight.” The Force energies within the room surged again as she felt him force his way into Judyc’s mind, though dissipated just as quickly once the Sith had made whatever point he’d wished to make to the other man.

 

“Your hospitality will be met with the privilege of my mercy then, Lady Ab’ki.” She smiled sweetly at him and nodded. Whatever made him feel comfortable.

 

Then he continued, “Why do you hide here, Ab'ki?” Before she could answer though, he’d directed his attention back to the two Mandalorians at her side. “And you. You plot to kill your own for mere credits, yet what has stopped you from killing her, is her purse deeper than this bounty?”

 

Ab’ki smirked, sensing the other two men’s Force signatures. Clearly this one didn’t know as much as he thought he did about the Mandalorian people, or, more specifically, he’d made the mistake of painting these two men into the stereotype the galaxy at large held for the somewhat backwater sector.

 

Judyc had apparently had enough of it as well, as he broke in a retort. "Spare me your sorcery. It's bad business to kill an employer, and there are such things as opportunity costs."

 

The seven-foot-tall man who’d remained silent up until now gave a derisive snort, “There’s more at stake than mere credits Dar’jetii.” The Ageless-Lordian hybrid’s presence within the Force was tenuous, slippery, and would feel almost akin to trying to grasp at smoke or steam. “Though, I wonder if you can understand the value in culling the herd?”

 

“Fieyr, Viba,” Ab’ki began firmly, eyeing the former a half-second longer than the latter, “That is quite enough. Run things how you like on your own ships, but this is my home and I will not have you insulting my guest.”

 

The tawny-furred mercenary crossed his arms and continued to glare at the interloping Sith before him, attempting to get a measure of the man. Smartly, though he kept his mouth shut. For him none of this had ever been about the credits, but more about claiming his birthright as an Ageless. So close he’d come with TeVerd, but the pureblood (one of the last alive) had chosen to train that abomination of a human instead of him. The Seekers were no longer fit to protect the sector from themselves, he’d realized over a decade ago. When TeVerd had passed him off to Carid Ad’Bettor, another Seeker, and Carid had refused to pass along the skills, Fieyr had taken his training into his own hands and allied with a Fallen Seeker, Otros Tramme to learn the skills his kind used in hunting down Force Users. It was through Otros that Fieyr had been introduced to the Lady Ab’k who seemed to understand his desire to make the Mandalore Sector a great power in the galaxy once more.

 

As loathe as he was to admit it, Fieyr knew he needed Ab’ki, her resources, and penchant for subtly wreaking havoc from the shadows in order to prune the weak and corrupt that were festering like a cancer in the system.

 

Of course, he hinted at none of this beyond what his own words might have conveyed.

 

“‘Hiding’?” Ab’ki echoed, continuing her answer to the Sith. “Hardly. A general does not direct from the front lines of the battle. This bastion merely serves as my command center as it were.”

 

She saw a figure darkening the doorway behind the Sith Master, and waived the woman forward. “It is done?”

 

The woman that emerged also wore Mandalorian-style green and grey armor with the markings of the Concord Dawn protectorate. “It is my lady,” she said, removing her helmet to regard Exodus as she stalked up beside him.

 

Her hair was short, black, and cropped and her eyes were so dark they almost matched. Two parallel diagonal lines marred her left cheek. The way she carried herself bespoke someone who was extremely dangerous and she wasn’t shy about her interest in the new guest. She remained silent as she took her place at Ab’ki’s side.

 

“Excellent,” Ab’ki purred delightedly. “Now, Lord Exodus, what has brought you to my dark corner of the galaxy?”

[Exodus]

The words that left the mouth of the weather-beaten Mandalorian endorsed the belief that the Sith Master held previously; this breed is far too pigheaded. What was a modest contribution to the warrior turned into an utter waste; a vision that if attached to and understood, would recur and burn further lapsed visions into his mind in which the warrior could abstract and dissect to be more prepared for his hunt. A trick expended on his apprentices for other purposes but for this— just a taste of what he knew, or watched of the Moon Knight, and out of respect for how skilled that man was. There was no reason for intimidation or parlor tricks here, if he wished, he’d strike him dead where he stood and be done with it. Wasted time vexed him like no other, but this was to be expected of the Mandalorian people, and so he remained poised with a small cackle all the same.

 

The quiet one had found his voice, and at last, Exodus was impressed. “Absolutely Fieyr, the culling of the herd…” He thought, Exodus pivoted to scrutinize the beanstalk Mandalorian further, to address him with his attention and confirm his belief, but also to discover more of what his true intentions were. “..Then tell me what’s at stake, worm!” he screamed inside his own mind as his eyes evolved into figurative flames, excited about the twisted things that these people truly planned and if his dark hand could push the envelope further but then the Mandalorian was interrupted in timely fashion.

 

“Is it done?” Her alibi was a bit contrived but would stand, but before he could break bread with another question, these three words left her mouth and echoed throughout the chamber, revealing the answer to the final piece of this puzzle. A plan was set, and Exodus was aware of this much, but made no mention of it nor the darkness that he carried in company. Even still, there was more an interest in the shadow that had just appeared. She moved with an air of fearlessness and Exodus regarded her in return with an endearing bow of his head. Catching the locks of his chestnut mane in one hand and then sweeping it back to fall against the rest, he returned his gaze towards his suspicious host.

 

“No worries Lady Ab’ki. There was no need to silence them. Their rise of emotion betrays them and allows me to see the truth behind their intent. Mandalorians are fierce, but few and we Sith can identify with that." Exodus swept an unimpassioned stare to the two Mandalorians, and then back. “...It is true Fieyr, the value in culling the herd is tantamount to the growth of a people, this I do understand and more than most.” As he spoke, his attention did not break from the fair lady, but instead searched her face for more than her own words could say. The herd he traveled with now had conducted acts of unbelievable butchery against their own brothers just to sit in the circle of the Sith Master and hold a title of power.

 

“I have been dormant, Lady Ab’ki. In repose for quite some time. Now that I have returned, it has occurred to me that the Sith have dwindled to Mandalorian numbers.” He lifted a brow, curious to how so many had fallen, and without much of a trace. “I heard of this 'hunt' for the wielders of the force—” He nearly laughed out loud at how ridiculous that even sounded, “... There was a Master, connected to a woman that had trained me in my early days in the Order that resides on this very planet. I came for him and for answers, but instead I’ve found you.” Exodus paused for a brief moment, felt the presence of his shadows all around, and then fell into the gaze of the newcomer— still, her presence gripping him ever so slightly and unbeknownst to the others.

 

“Who is it now that sits at the head of the Order. And where exactly do your intentions lie, Sister?”

[Fieyr]

“No worries Lady Ab’ki." Exodus intoned, "There was no need to silence them. Their rise of emotion betrays them and allows me to see the truth behind their intent. Mandalorians are fierce, but few and we Sith can identify with that...It is true Fieyr, the value in culling the herd is tantamount to the growth of a people, this I do understand and more than most."

 

The young Ageless's head came back slightly. So this man actually does have some respect for what we can do. Hmmm...

 

“I have been dormant, Lady Ab’ki. In repose for quite some time. Now that I have returned, it has occurred to me that the Sith have dwindled to Mandalorian numbers.”

 

The new arrival, Caelix Trammell, glanced from the man before her and then to her kinsmen, but kept silent, the comment not appearing to sit well with her.

 

"I heard of this 'hunt' for the wielders of the force," he continued, clearly amused by the idea in the way a Nexu amuses itself with a jakrab before devouring it. "There was a Master, connected to a woman that had trained me in my early days in the Order that resides on this very planet. I came for him and for answers, but instead I’ve found you."

 

As his gaze found her, Caelix shifted involuntarily wondering what his game was. Ab'ki noted his attentions and raised her head slightly as he asked who the head of the Order now was.

 

"As you noted yourself...Lord Exodus," the Twi'lek Sith intoned as her lekku twitched slightly. "Our numbers have become fewer, scattered. Sadly, for many it seems, loyalty is a passing thing. Only out for their own survival. To my knowledge, there has been no one who has dared take up the mantle."

 

She stepped off of the dais and paced around him slowly. "As for my intentions, I keep to the vision of my late master and love. My loyalty is still to him, even in his death. I am the weapon he forged. I am his legacy. Tracking down his killer has taken a fair while, but patience wins out in the end, I find." She smiled cruelly, knowing that her plans against Mirdala Ad'Goran were finally in motion.

 

((Fieyr is assuming species based on your signature here since it's 'unknown' on the character sheet. Also, Mando count is up to three now, the new arrival is a Journeyman Protector. Sorry, this took so long, was waiting on the Sith to make a call, then I realized that for my purposes, it didn't matter. Sorry for holding everyone up. ))

[Judyc Viba]

Judyc watched the exchange silently, nodding at the other Mandalorian who walked in. He recognized her -- Trammell was something of a weapons expert, and was an experienced Journeyman Protector on Concord Dawn. He had to admit he hadn't known she was one of the ones Ab'ki had bought, but she was certainly an asset. He was equally curious about the role she would be playing in the coming plans as he was about Lord Exodus' purpose for being here.

 

But for now he continued to stand silent, arms crossed, eyes appraising.

[Exodus]

“The Krath? The Warriors? How is this even—? ...Sith cowards.” the thought irritated him deeply. A noise then filtered into the communicator nestled into his ear, but none here were the wiser. Exodus reviewed the entire audience and found that his time here was squandered between men and women with trivial scores to settle. If he wished to lend these people his support, he could not unearth how these few could benefit him in return; their aspiration for more could not be found here, and what Exodus had in store would prove far more complicated than an assassination. Mandalorians, the most he had ever seen at one time and a Sith who still clawed to a man who failed to preserve his own life. What did this Darth Hask leave behind besides a weapon blinded to her own true ambition? Perhaps this one reminded him of a woman who he had studied when he was still but a mere apprentice. Death awaits her all the same. “Ab’Ki...” His voice was superior and stern, the vibrancy in his tone was emphatic and would move the very bones in your body.

 

• “...The crown is mine now.”

 

Just then, another shadow lingered just behind the doorway to the chamber. If the audience here looked, they would lay their eyes on a behemoth of a man or monster some would say. You couldn’t make out the details but his sheer size alone was cause for alarm. His breath was loud and raspy and pelted out of him in uncontrolled heaves. “..Maasssterr.” His very pronunciation of the word was terrifying and sounded instead like many voices buried in a deep hell calling out, and waiting. Exodus never swayed his attention from these people however, each of them he surveyed one after the other as if he was reading them, and constantly.

 

 

“The structure of assassins has flourished in the dark of Umbara, and I have drawn an unprecedented power with me. I plan to break the current balance.

———You should be wary of which end of the spectrum you then find yourselves.”

 

 

Exodus bowed his head slightly in no particular direction and towards no particular person, but on behalf of them all. The incandescence in his eyes jounced before his stare turned half-away and while his feet were in mid-pivot. “... Before the attempt on this Mandalore, inform him that I would like a word with him. If he falls, I will know of it and if he lives, the Spider will find him.” There was a chance that this Mandalore would die, but Exodus believed in a chance that these men could fail before a man who had earned the title of his people. If this Mandalore could overcome this, Exodus would build a door of opportunity for the man and his people.

[Raynuk Montar]

Hours had passed since the Sith known as Draken Shadowlord stirred, sweeping through his Citadel with purpose before leaving the planet. But even without its occupant, the Cult of Morthos continued to watch the Citadel, sitting so pristinely upon its plateau. This group of cultists had been planet side for more than two months, placed specifically and strategically around the Citadel to watch it and its occupant. At several points, a member would attempt to investigate and dared closer to the Citadel, but never close enough to risk exposure.

 

But the day had finally come that the Masters them would; the day when Shadowlord left his lofty Citadel. For as much surveillance as the group had done on the exterior, the real prize would be found within. The group already knew the layout, with its seven segments that could each individually function and stand by itself. With Shadowlord gone, his guards seemed to be both on higher alert to the immediate area, but also appeared to be more relaxed without the Sith being present.

 

The cultists, led by a man who now called himself Tezcha, began to move forward with their plans the moment their spotter relayed word of Shadowlord’s departure. Part of what had allowed the cultists to remain unseen for such a long period of time was their utter denial of technology. No commlinks, no modern weapons, no data pads. For them, everything was written on paper or communicated in person by voice. And so, when the spotter, located o on the edge of another nearby plateau saw the ship shooting into space, he immediately moved.

 

Now, a few hours later, Tezcha was looking up at the plateau as he and a few of his fellow cultists sat huddled in a small boat in the evening darkness. Two of his followers paddled slowly, deliberately, and most importantly quietly up the small river that lead from the bay nearby. The entire trip from the bay would take far longer than normal given their pace, but in Tezcha’s mind, time and patience was one thing they had more than enough of.

 

Soon enough the group reached the end of the river, or rather it’s source; a giant waterfall that stretched so far up the plateau that the group could not even spot its source. Giving the waterfall one long glance upwards, Tezcha nodded silently, and his followers moved. Four of them threw aside their cloaks, revealing that they were in fact four members of the Harch species. Each was wearing closer fitting pants and tunics, along with coils of rope slung over their shoulders, and assorted other climbing gear. Meanwhile, the rest began unloading the rough sacks that they had brought from the boat. The foursome moved directly under the waterfall, almost embracing the forces that pushed down on them and acclimating to the temperature. Then, one by one, they began to free-climb the side of the plateau, following the waterfall for cover. The rest of the group, Tezcha included waited at the bottom for a sign from the four.

 

The climb itself took the better part of 4 hours for the Harches, only now there were only three of them. Not long after they reached the halfway point of the climb, the second Harch in line succumb to a mixture of slick rock and the force of the waterfall pelting upon him, causing him to miss a foothold, ripping two of his arms from their rocks. The rest of his body stood no chance as he tumbled backwards once, smashing his head on the rock wall and falling past the other two. A full minute passed before the body hit the rocks and river below, causing Tezcha and the others to literally jump. But it only served to strengthen the resolve of the remaining cultists.

 

At last the remaining Harches reached the lip, the one that was hidden behind the waterfall. It was an opening in the rock face that extended ten feet forward into a rock wall with a small door on it. Through the door, from everything the cultist knew, was a secret passage that would lead them into the Citadel itself. The first Harch turned and helped his brethren up the last few centimeters before looking around the small cavern.

 

<> he chittered before all three pulled the loops of rope from their bodies, and began the process of anchoring them to the ceiling of the cavern before tossing the rest of the spools over the edge into the waterfall.

 

Just as the corpse of the dead Harch did, the spools of rope arrived at the bottom of the waterfall with equal velocity, but was met without the jump scare of the corpse. Tezcha allowed a smile as he again looked upwards. Dawn was fast approaching, and so he reached out and gripped one of the rope in his hand. He had lied to those who followed him here; for not all technology had been abandoned as they thought.

Not long after the cultists had discovered the hidden cavern behind the waterfall, Tezcha had made a request to the Masters in their next batch of supplies. And only now, months later, did he reveal to those that stood beside him, what he had asked for. He reached down into one of the sacks and pulled out another climbing harness, only this one was equipped with a fast accent device. After stepping into the harness, Tezcha tossed the sack to the others without a word and reached again for the rope, which he then clipped into the device.

Soon enough, Tezcha and the other five cultists who had remained with him were clipped into the ropes, and activated the devices. Three at a time, the cultists rapidly scaled the ropes, being dragged upwards through the waterfall.

 

When all had reached the top, Tezcha wasted no more time, and moved to the door in the rock wall. Shadowlord had been sloppy; the door was locked, but only by a simple latch that was activated on the other side of the door. But as the door opened outward towards them, the cultists went for the hinges instead, removing the door entirely and placing it to the side before they all filed into the small passage, Tezcha leading the way, with the Haches bringing up the rear.

 

The secret door on the other end of the passage proved more troublesome however than the last. Both doors had clearly been designed to open from the Citadel outward to the waterfall, with this second door being a hidden one from the inside. From the outside however, the mechanism that controlled the door was visible on the door and wall itself. The trick would be to trip it without likewise tripping an alarm. The cultists had only vague information about alarms within the Citadel, but intended to not find out.

 

Tezcha spent the better part of fifteen minutes studying the door and its mechanism by the dim light of a chemical light stick before deciding upon a course of action. Motioning the closest Hach forward, Tezcha leaned over and whispered the plan to the larger humanoid, his eyes never leaving the door. A moment later, he stepped back away from the door as the Hach stepped forward.

One by one, the six arms of the Hach reached out and grabbed the mechanism on the door. And all at once, they ripped it clean off the back of the door, leaving only a short spark and groan from the door itself as the Hach placed it on the ground, the rest of the cultists remaining exceedingly quiet.

 

And quiet they stayed for a full three minutes, not daring to move or speak. They were all listening for any signs that their entrance had been noticed. When nothing tipped them off, Tezcha nodded again silently, causing the Hach to turn again and gently open the door. Only then did Tezcha realize just where in the citadel they had entered; Shadowlord’s quarters.

Tezcha moved into the room silently and swiftly, crossing it to the far door and closing it as quietly as possible as the rest of the cultists entered the room and began sifting around the room, looking for anything of worth to their cause. Tezcha however knew there was one specific room to get into.

 

The Library.

[darth shadowlord]

Within the Guard HQ sat a short older man in a black Imperial style uniform with golden shoulder bars, anyone looking at him would assume that he had bought his place within the guard until they saw the still livid scar running down his left cheek and the augmentative eye that replaced his eye. He was going over the day to day guard rotation when a comm came in over his secure comm link. "Commander Arcan, I want you to place the Guard on full alert. Double the guard on all facilities and have the Black Guard stand to. I want them to be able to deploy in three hours notice." He sat there for a moment, he was not expecting a comm link like this. Regardless he had his orders and he wasn't one to question his lord.

 

"Lieutenant! Summon all of the Guard commanders, and tell the Comm operator that he is to activate Protocol Ebony Blade." The lieutenant ran from the room as Arcan stood up and walked to the sealed locker and entered a code to open the locker. Inside the locker was a suit of Imperial style armor painted black with the royal seal of Serenno painted on the chest plate. Beside it was a heavy with an extending underslung blade on it. He sighed, it had been a long time since he had needed to wear this armor.

 

He began to put on the armor as the few Black Guards that that were on watch prepared to turn over with the oncoming guard shift just as Protocol Ebony Blade was activated. The oncoming guards turned around and proceeded back to the armory to re-armor and re-arm. Once they had strapped on their heavy armor, they selected their weapons. Several of the guards took heavy blasters while other selected several of the more rare force pikes, each of the groups pairing up so that they had a mixture of heavy weapons and also bladed weapons. When they reached the Library, the guards split off. two proceeding into the library and two replacing the guards at the door. The first part of the shift was quiet, The second part of the shift however everything changed.

 

Varying their guard routine, one of the guards walked to the edge of the corridor and turned to walk back when disaster struck. One of the Harch cultists drove his dagger through the guards shoulder twice before the guard managed to turn and run the pike through the Harch before the other two overwhelmed him due to his blood loss. The second guard activated the alarm and library lock down before he shouldered his heavy blaster and unleashed a torrent of bolts at the first of the two remaining Harch. The bolts shredded the Harch and splattered most of it all over the wall behind it as the sound of heavy boots marching double time up the hallway could be heard along with the sound of charging blasters.

 

"For the Darkened One." The Harch screamed as he charged the remaining Black Guard. Triggering his blaster, the guard traced the bolts across the Harch's legs and ripping them from its body. The Harch collapsed onto the floor, trying to drag itself towards the guard before Command Arcan ran into the room and speared the cultist through at his neck and severing the spinal cord.

 

Arcan looked at the corspe in front of him and then at the Black guard and the palace guards who had just arrived at the library. "Seems that our Lord was correct." He signed and grabbed his comm and activated the Secured mode. "Martog, this is Arcan. Execute Protocol Blooded Blade."

 

As soon as he cut off his comm, alarms began to sound throughout the Citadel and off watch guards began to scramble to the armories. Meanwhile on the moon, Bloodied Blade was the deploy order for the Black Guard. Fifty men guard contingents began to march into the ten shuttles and began the two hour trip to the Citadel, while the next 500 man guard contingent began to arm and equip for the next set of shuttles. The first contingent of Guard deployed around the Citadel as the second contingent deployed to the city and began to search the city in ten men sections.

[Raynuk Montar]

Tezcha watched from behind a corner much farther down the hallway as the three Harches fulfilled their sacred oath, giving their lives in the pursuit of the goals of the Cult of Morthos. Normally losing three of one’s infiltration group would serve to dissuade those that remained, but for Tezcha it only strengthened the resolve inside of him, his chest swelling with pride at the opportunity the Masters and the Darkened One had laid at the feet of the Harch brothers.

 

The rise of alarms likewise did not sway Tezcha and the five that remained with him. For a few moments, he did not move, but merely observed the movements of the guards, making mental notes of how the guards were armored and armed. He found it curious that there appeared to be two different sets of guards; it appeared the ones who wore all black were the bigger threat. But then he heard one of the black-armored guards speak.

 

“Seems that our Lord was correct… Martog, this is Arcan. Execute Protocol Blooded Blade.”

Martog… Arcan…; useful names to remember for future attempts at access.

Protocol Blooded Blade…; also useful information. Apparently, these guards were keen on code-words for situations. Perhaps further observation and infiltration could source out the full list of codes and their meanings.

 

But as more alarms sounded and the sound of footsteps began to move more rapidly, Tezcha’s mind clicked back to the first thing this Arcan had said.

 

Seems that our lord was correct…

 

Shadowlord knew. Somehow, somewhere, the Sith had learned not only of the presence of the cultists, but perhaps even their intention to infiltrate the Citadel itself. For a moment, the man felt fear and concern; but not for himself. His mission, and even his survival was secondary to the over-arching goal of the Cult of Morthos. If he was required to die here alongside the Harches, then he would go forth to that glorious end with pride. But if Shadowlord knew of the cultists here on Serenno, did he also know of the Cult as a whole?

 

That, was information Tezcha could not allow to spread. Still watching the guards from afar, he waited until the right moment, and slipped back the way he came, back towards the room the cultists had entered from. He had left the rest of his followers there and in the next few rooms, having progressed through to the fringes of the Library with only the Harches. Every so often, the cultist heard a guard coming and would duck into a room, or an alcove, or on one occasion ducked behind a piece of furniture.

 

Attempting to get back to the rest of his cultists however, proved to be more difficult. The closer he drew towards Shadowlord’s quarters, the more guards there were. It finally got to the point that Tezcha was forced to duck into a side room, and quietly locked the door behind him.

 

The room was little more than a sitting room, and from the state of things it had not been used for a very long time, if ever at all. Quickly looking around, the man began to formulate a plan, even as he heard a patrol nearing. Spotting a vent opening in the ceiling, Tezcha climbed on top of the back of one of the chairs and managed to get the outer vent cover open, just as there was a knock on the door and a voice on the other side.

 

Another few seconds found the cultist climbing up into the vent, before pulling out one of his daggers. The door knocked again, this time a louder voice from the other side as Tezcha hurled his dagger across the room, managing to embed it directly into the controls for the lights in the room, frying the lights, causing the room to fall to darkness. He closed the grate soon after and shimmied away from the room as quietly as possible, just as the guards opened the door.

 

All they would find would be a dark room, and a dagger in panel for the lights.

[Fieyr]

"Ab'ki, the crown is mine now."

 

The woman's head rose slightly as she dipped into a slight curtsy. She'd felt his darkness through the Force and knew his claim to be true. "Leave us," she commanded the others as she met his gaze. Just then an ominous and behemoth of a shadow blocked the light from the corridor.

 

"...Maasssterr..."

 

“The structure of assassins has flourished in the dark of Umbara, and I have drawn an unprecedented power with me. I plan to break the current balance." He continued, not seeming to notice the creature skulking in the hallway. "You should be wary of which end of the spectrum you then find yourselves.”

 

One by one the Mandalorians filed out, though Judyc stopped slightly at the door as Exodus added. “... Before the attempt on this Mandalore, inform him that I would like a word with him. If he falls, I will know of it and if he lives, the Spider will find him."

 

Ab'ki nodded. "As soon as I have him, you will know. He's just a means to an end for me. Call it poetic justice. Shall we?" She gestured to the plush sofa near an ornate fireplace on the far side of the room. "You wish to know what I'm up to? Revenge. Simple as that. I want to watch the sector burn for sealing my love from me, but none so much so as the child that cut him down. I want to break her, and the rest of her kind." There was an odd implication with the way she'd used "kind" the last time, something that seemed to hold a narrower meaning than those that claimed the title of Mandalorian by culture or by geography.

[Judyc Viba]

What in haran is that? Judyc thought, eying the monster in the doorway.

 

He didn't acknowledge Exodus' request pass his invitation to ShadowFett like some messenger boy. It seemed to him that the dar'jetii was betting against him. And there was no doubt that Fett had become a very challenging target. But Judyc was careful and he knew how to win a fight. He would need to lure Fett into a position where he was disadvantaged, in some asymmetrical battlefield or trap.

 

Let them all think what they want, Judyc thought dismissively as he edged past whatever creature was standing in the shadows on his way out. This whole trip has been a kriffing waste of time.

 

Soon he made his way back to his ship, the Gra'tua, and headed for deep space. He had contacts to check in with, trace programs running, and a whole lot of work ahead of him if he was going to get wind of Mirdala Ad'Goran.

[darth shadowlord]

The Black Guard proceeded through the Citadel for the first search, their path systematic as they conducted an initial sweep. Finding what remained of the waterfall door, they sent a coded pulse to Command that they had found the entry point and were requesting a team to secure the area. Within fifteen minutes two teams arrived at the waterfall entrance with heavy weapons and barricades. Twenty minutes later, both teams were in place so that the waterfall was covered by intersecting fields of fire from the heavy weapons teams with a tertiary team covering the exit from the Citadel in case the cultists decided to try to escape the way they had come in. Once the waterfall entrance had been covered, the initial team resumed their rounds, their path taking them towards the library.

 

Stopping at the old sitting room near the Lord's private study, they opened the door to find the lights out. One of the guards walked into the room, his torch lit as he walked into the sitting room. Several others guards lit their torches and began to scan the room, one of the torches coming across the glint of a dagger hilt protruding from a wall control switch. Two of the guards began to play their torch beams across the ceiling of the room slowly, looking for anything out of the ordinary. One of the guards stopped for a moment, something didn’t seem right to him. He examined the ventilation grate carefully, the vents were facing the wrong direction and two of the screws were missing.

 

He raised a fist and then beckoned over the squad commander. He signalled for silence and pointed up at the ventilation duct, indicating a scurrying motion across the palm of his hand so that his squad commander could see it. The commander glanced up at the ceiling, a contemplative look at his face as he considered the options before him. He could release a paralyzing agent into the vents, or there was the option of poison gas being sent through the vents. On the other hand he could send a series of scanning micro probes into the ventilation and track what was in the vents. He snarled at the lack of efficient methods that were available and sent a quick coded pulse to Commander Arcan in order to pass on the updated sitrep as well the recommended course of action.

 

-- Within the HQ, Arcan sat at his desk contemplating the various sitreps that had crossed his desk since the initial attack. He now had five hundred of the Count’s elite shock troops within the Citadel and another five hundred shock troops deploying into the city at this very minute. Above the world, within a bunker dug deep into the moon there were another four thousand troopers were completing their preparations for deployment. This would be a full legion deployment, the last time that a massed landing of the dark legion had been upon the Count’s ascension to the throne while he had marched with them as the second in command of the legion.

 

However, this was not the time for him to reminisce about past glories, he needed to make a decision as to the next course of action. He weighed the options before him and decided to combine several of the options together and use them against the cultists. Quickly he issued the orders to use micro droids to scan the ventilation ducts and then a second wave of micro droids to deploy a slow but vicious poison, one that the Black Guard were prepared to defend against. Less the ten minutes later, six teams of Black Guard were positioned at the major intersections of the ventilation system.

 

Each of these teams had a droid controller with them who were prepping the droids for deployment. It would take a matter of moments for them to program the parameters of the search and once completed the droids had a designated search pattern that they would follow. Five minutes later, they launch the droids into the ducts and let them begin their search. Fifteen minutes’ pass before one of the droids finds a piece of ripped cloth. It sends the coded data pulse back to the controllers datapad. The controller smiled and beckoned over his squad commander. He pointed out the ripped cloth on the monitor and indicated on the pad where the ripped cloth had been found. The squad commander looked at the pad for a moment before indicating a yet unsearched section of the duct.

 

The droid controller nodded and issued the command before sending the information that he had to the other controllers who were stationed throughout the Citadel. The command was acknowledged and the controllers began to initialize the second wave of droids, each droid carrying a tiny vial of poison that when exposed to air created a toxic cloud that was deadly to nearly all humanoid lifeforms unless they had taken the antidote before hand.

 

The controllers waited five minutes before launching the droids deadly payload, these droids were much faster and designed to explode once in range of their target so that the poison would be exposed to the air and so spread the poison. Within two minutes the first small concussion was heard within the duct followed by a strained coughing and a thrashing sound as the poison was inhaled by the first of the five remaining cultist. Immediately there is a scrabbling sound heard through out the duct system and the Black Guard are quick to locate the area where the scrabbling is heard from.

 

Two of the Guard aim their blasters at the junction point just ahead of the scrambling sound, two others aim a tripod mounted heavy slugthrower at junction point and open fire. The ensuing las and solid shot fire rip the duct to shreds as well as two of the cultists who were attempting to escape the poison cloud that was fast approaching their position. One of the cultist’s shredded body falls from the duct to land on the floor to land in front of one of the Black Guard while the second body hung from the duct his left arm and leg caught in the mangled ducting.