Csilla

[Seraphim]

Seraphim's eyes shot open as he dropped backwards in his seat, gasping for breath. By helping Amon he had connected to him on a metaphysical level and as such had been intimately tied to his death; his sacrifice. The feeling was near overwhelming as all the death he had ever experienced had only been as an outsider looking in and hadn't ever carried such weight with it.

 

He's with the force now”¦

 

Seraphim turned his gaze to Kirlocca, looking a bit distraught as he did but trying to regain his composure.

 

”œYe”¦yes, I know a place. It's commercial and doesn't see anyone as friend or foe. They'll charge, but a few credits is better then risking your life.”

[Guest]

::Out of the darkness a mysterious figure appears behind the Krath Sorceress, draped in black robes. It's the first step in a new world for him, a man turned shadow. He's here to collect someone, someone that he once knew...::

 

Sleep

 

Dominique collapses to the ground as the darkness consumes her and vanishes...

[ObliviousKnight]

Armiena slumped in relief in the center of her bacta bath, the threat having been removed from the Justiciar. She had no doubt that it would come back later to haunt them, but at least she would be healthy and in fighting condition then.

 

Now, if the Admiral could just get this ship underway and back to Gala, Armiena could begin planning for the next action of the war. The Rebel Alliance and the Jedi had gained a tremendous advantage with the near-destruction of the Imperial fleet, and Armiena intended to capitalize on it to further cripple the Empire's ability to make war.

[Wookiee Jedi]

Kirlocca thought over his options for a second before he responded. "I'm okay to go anywhere that will aid me, and I don't have to fight or worry about watching my back." Kirlocca let himself trail off as he focused on pain the shot through his arm.

[Skye Organa]

The feel of a jab against her skin brought Skye out of her meditation trance. She still felt the pain of separation from her son, though with thoughts of what his father was like, she knew that some day she would see Amon again... at least she hoped she would.

 

Glancing up at I-Nine, the Healer took the nutritious drink from the droid, sipping on it as she set her mind to the task ahead. I-Nine informed her that they were in the process of loading the medbay of her ship with wounded and that there weren't many beds left to fill. Rising from her chair, she went through to the medbay, activating the sterile fields around the entrances. Scrubbing up, Skye approached the medical staff that had come onboard with the patients, getting the latest information with regards to the patients.

 

She would have a skeleton crew of medical staff with her for the journey. The Healer would also have an Alliance pilot to fly her ship to Gala while they dealt with the wounded. Moving through to speak to the pilot as the last of the wounded were brought on board, she checked his credentials, and his character through the Force, finding him reliable in both ways. The Healer would also activate a special device that would ensure no tracking devices worked if any were planted.

 

Back in the surgery she started on the first patient, having had the most seriously injured brought to her care. I-Nine was already prepping her first patient. Sinking into the Force, Skye let it work through her as she began to heal.

 

--

 

The pilot undocked from the Alliance craft Serenity had collected the wounded from. After sending codes to the appropriate areas, the pilot got the ship ready to enter hyperspace...

[Onderin Starlisk]

Onderin sent a comm welcoming Seraphim and Kirlocca aboard the ship. The evacuation process was almost over, and they only had a little more time to complete it ((the rules state that complete evac takes three days, so you guys know why I'm taking so long)). But as soon as they were done, it was a swing by Mon Calamari then back to Gala.

 

EDIT May 7th:

 

The evacuation was complete, and it was time to go home. Employing many tractor beams, the Rebel ships took control of the disabled Star Destroyers and Interdictor cruiser and entered hyperspace. By that time, all the air was gone and the coldness had thoroughly penetrated the capital ships, anyone still aboard them killed as a result. But there were no members of the Alliance among them.

 

((As for those aboard Alliance ships, resume in the Mon Calamari thread.))

[Hou-Jo Poleb]

Hou-Jo entered hyperspace and left Csilla behind.

[Nitestrike]

Having somehow reached the dock in all the panic and hub bub about the area, Brad Warren went off into hyperspace with the Rebel fleet. He was bound for a destination unknown to him.

[Mr. Mortati]

As the last Jedi ship left the system, a new set of ships entered it. The Chiss didn't have a chance to recover or rebuild, but lucky for them the arrival of these ships was not meant as an act of aggression. Violence would only befall the Chiss once more if they made a move to interrupt the group of Mercs, or at least that is how the codes on their ships ”˜checked out.'

 

As the massive Cargo hauler and its two escorts neared the planet, its hangers opened up. Twelve shuttles, two from each ship, and four squads of Aries mobile suits were deployed. The entered the atmosphere in as a group of fiery balls burning their way towards the icy surface of the planet. From above they could see the crash site of the Alliance flagship. It was a stunning sight and each and every man entering the atmosphere appreciated it as such. Such a behemoth of a ship reduced to nothing more then a shell of its former self.

 

”œIt's a shame we have to ruin such a site, eh boys? You know what to do, lets make this quick.”

[Rihn]

Captain Drell watched the Empire's defeat in silence. It was an amazing battle fight by two amazingly strong powers. Sticking around afterwords, Drell also watched as the scavengers soon showed up, stripping the surroundings bare of any valuables.

 

Instead of ordering any action, he just watched. It reminded him of some of the wildlife holovids he used to watch as a child. He shook his head a little. Finally seeing them leave and assuring the safety of Csilla for the time being, Drell called in the Regent's Delight.

 

Entering the system, the larger ship quickly targeted the planet and broke the atmosphere. Unloading three garrisons of droid soldiers, the captain ordered them to help protect and rebuild Csilla and its defenses. Leaving capable officers in charge, Drell then contacted the entire fleet occupying Csilla.

 

The orders were simple. Next stop, Cardia.

[Vladimir Faust]

Using false transponder codes, Faust makes a discrete landing on Csilla. Though wearing his white armor, he opts for a slightly more subtle disguise given Csilla's control by the rebels, draping himself in white robes with a hooded cloak to conceal his face. Still tucked into the folds are the Hunter's vast store of weapons.

 

"Ahhh," he sniffs, taking a walk onto the steets of the planet, his eyes darting around, taking in the details with careful measure. "You can smell that, can you not? The sophistication, the air of cunning, the stench of injured pride that radiates out from these people." Faust chuckles to his apprentice. "Let us waylay someone, I'll let you decide whom, and we can begin the practice of breaking down his or her mind, reading it, and eventually learning to reconstruct it. We can practice to our hearts content, then after that," he laughs again, quieter now, "we shall see about changing the minds of a few people in high places here to give the rebels some grief."

[Darth Furion]

Julio grimaced as he stepped off of the ramp, annoyed both by his master's choice of attire and what he called the 'stench of injured pride'. He noticed it too, in much the same light. He saw it on the face of every man, woman, and child they passed. Their expressions were saturated with a disdain in a not so incredibly hidden manner. The sheer masses of people, all equally pissed off at one place was enough to infect him with a similar animosity.

 

"Their hate is virulent and insulting to the senses. Its...uncontrolled, untempered. No discipline to it at all. Just raw, unchecked aggression. But they're forced to restrain it out of fear of their Rebel masters. No one here deserves the gift of hatred. They don't know how to use it, they're like animals."

 

A bitter taste grew in his mouth, and Julio couldn't help but spit to the ground. His only reprise in this world if poorly held emotion was the thought of his master's new task. What he spoke of referred to more than just breaking a person's spirit, but to truly delve into their mind. He couldn't help but be somewhat excited, despite his dislike of the people's he'd be forced to interact with. Julio was charged with the task of choosing who to whisper away from the crowd for their sinister practice, so like his master he carefully observed the crowd around them. The way they carried themselves, they way their lips moved when they talk, the words they chose, he watched it all intently for any sign or clue to the person. The trouble was finding the right person. If he were going to tread through the mind of another, he wanted to make sure it was a mind worth looking into. Many of those around him, idealists, activists, merchants, consumers, spacers, all had about the same amount of depth to them as a kiddie pool. All their focus was aimed at one, or few things. None had the ability to look beyond themselves and actually see the world around them. Of course, many were blinded by their hatred of their Rebel wardens, so they were not entirely to blame, but this in no way excused them. If anything, it condemned them even further for failing to surpass their personal imprisonment.

 

In the crowd a glimmer shone through, something that showed some promise.

 

"There...she looks to be some form of scholar, perhaps a teacher." Julio didn't point directly so as not to draw attention to them, but he was sure Faust could follow his stare. "Bit more than a puddle to this one. Not much, but enough."

[Vladimir Faust]

Faust considers his apprentice's words, having mused on them. "I suppose one could consider the Sith far more egalitarian than the Jedi," he whispers back, stalking through the streets alongside Julio. "That core of hatred is in everyone. In an ideal world, there are no illusions, no masks. Just simply a raw show of strength to shape the face of the reality." His lips purse into a wolfish smile. "Though the use of widespread fear has it merits, for maintaining power, intoxicating the cretins with love, affection, and adoration has its merits. It buffers against fear, and in turn the possibility of hatred. A good ruler is feared, but loved as well. Hatred will overcome both. These fools may not deserve that gift, that awakening, but as tools, it will serve our purpose."

 

Faust's eyes briefly narrow on Julio's target. His smile tightens, and he gives a nod. "She will do just fine." Faust's eyes dart to a narrow alley. "Try reaching out to her mind and herding her towards there. From there," he laughs. "Well, it's up to you." Even as he spoke, Faust dropped one of his favorite and most useful auras, giving a whisper to the mind that made them to the crowd, even with their unusually strong Chiss minds, rather unnoticable and uninteresting.

 

"You're on your own..." Faust whispers, suddenly vanishing. "I look forward to the results...*

 

*****

 

Confident in his apprentice's abilities, Faust withdrew to give his apprentice more time to deal with the matter as he wishes, then took to his ship, vanishing into hyperspace.

[Darth Furion]

His golden eyes darted through the crowd, gleaning more subtle information in a short span of time than any one of these automatons could in their entire lives. They all had their own unique nuances that made them distinguishable from each other in some minute way, but really they were all the same. Each lived a life without purpose, or at best a purpose that was nothing more than short term in the grand scope of things. Trying to make their lives better with work, or tight nit social interaction, which was ultimately pointless. Even if they managed to scale the social ladder and became someone noteworthy within their world, it would never achieve anything lasting. That was the tricky thing about society, you're only king for the moment, until someone else more grand or more pretty comes along. But not all were such base creatures, some were truly concerned about the betterment of their people as a whole, thoughts of just how to strike at the man running rampant through their thick skulls even now, in the crowded city streets of the market square. It was a noble goal, sure, but their self sacrifice would only go so far. In the end, the masses are weak because none are able to suitably govern. There needs to be one that rises to the top, one that can cull the idiocy and short sightedness of the horde and make the solid decisions.

 

Focus...now is not their time, you are here for just one...

 

It was difficult to focus for Julio. Since Mustafar thoughts and feelings not his own ran rampant through him. He could here and feel these creatures, even if he didn't want to. It was like white noise he couldn't turn off or redirect into something more constructive. Damn his ineptitude, he couldn't stand to be this way. He was better than this, better than them, he should be able to keep their unguided thoughts to tread through his own mind. Now, to the matter at hand. How was he to usher a complete stranger into a dark, decrepit alley? If he were more experience, he was sure he could just impress the desire upon her, but as it was now he had to rely on cunning and what little tools he had at his disposal. Beyond a simple punch dagger, which probably would be of little help in this situation, he had his guile within the force, but in that he only knew emotion and minimal physical control. Not all was lost, however. Emotion was a fantastic tool, if one knew how to use it correctly. Now, how exactly to use such a chaotic tool? As Julio walked through the crowd, his eyes continued to scan the surroundings. Individuals, things, all within his scope of perception as he circled his prey. Fear. Fear was one thing all man shared, instilled deep within the primal heart from the birth of existence. Fear would be the path to higher learning, as it was so many times before. Watching the crowd, Julio began to notice that fear had evolved into full blown paranoia for some, uneasy to even go into public for fear of Republic agents and treasonous brethren. Julio picked a clear spot next to a food stand and stood, watching those who's fear ran so freely.

 

"You gonna order something?"

 

Julio turned his head. Consumed in his hunt, Julio had forgotten the cloaking aura his master gifted had be whispered away when Faust did. Now he was left to the crowd, one of the many.

 

"I'll take the special." he muttered, not really familiar with Csillian cuisine. As the food cart operator clumsily prepared his food, Julio's eyes returned to the crowd. The teacher had moved to another stand now, looking through the foreign clothing the free trade from membership within the Republic had given. There was no one else looking carousing the clothing stand. Julio reasoned these proud people had shunned everything off world in an attempt to bolster patriotism. Why should they purchase foreign cloth when theirs is so much better? Nothing but blind pride, another attempt at masking their saturating fear and anger. Everywhere he looked, there was another mask, trying to hide the people's emotions from the world. Julio couldn't help but hate them a little more for it. Subtlety had its uses, but outright hiding the way you feel was nothing more than something to be disdained. No man should fear their emotions, it is what makes them them. Hiding it was like trying to destroy part of yourself. Simply disgusting.

 

"That'll be ten creds."

 

Without looking at the cart owner Julio's hand glided out of the folds of his cloak, passing over the money with grace unseen on the streets. Still watching his mark, he could feel a sense of jubilation rise in the vendor when he recognized that it was Imperial credits Julio carried, and not Republic credits.

 

"Thank you." Julio said, obviously detached from the moment. He left the stand, having no visible reason to remain. Once again he became one with the crowd, half glancing at the items up for sale on the streets as he watched the woman. Shifting to those with rampant paranoia, he noticed they too had seen the woman looking at the foreign shop. The weight of possible outcome was set. All he needed to do was tip the scales and let it roll downhill. Julio reached out to the pair of men, connecting with them on the most base of levels. Their hatred, their paranoia, their fear was something that all shared, and with but a little attention could be used to bring people together. Julio just took it a step further and actually allowed himself to share in their feelings. Hot and thin, their fury flowed easily to him, and he to them. It was an obnoxious display of emotion, yes, but it was based on the very feelings he held deep within his own furnace heart. And with that furnace heart did he help their paranoia and fear grow, letting their own minds take the steps he wished. With the softest touch he let the two men become aware of each other, aware of the fact that they had both made the same observation. The woman was a traitor to the race, no doubt about it. Look at her there, looking at the filthy foreign clothing. No true Chiss would do such a thing. She's a spy, an informant, something! She must be stopped, she has to be stopped. Together the men moved, fighting against the crowd to get closer to the woman.

 

Now....step two....

 

With the two men on a path fueled by their own fear, Julio left them and moved to the woman. Like everyone else, she held her own fear. The woman was no idiot. She knew what she was doing when she moved to the stand, knew that by just looking at the clothes she could be marked an outcast. But she was a teacher, or what she believed to be someone of higher learning and understanding. Foreign clothes was not the downfall of their society, it was the Republic that held such tight reigns on them that caused such turmoil. But these...laymen that think that anything involving the outside world is nothing but a seditious folly were the ones in the wrong. Action before thought or understanding was stupid. But they'd never understand it if you simply spoke to them. They were all blinded by their anger toward the Republic. It would take bold action radical beyond their comprehension for them to understand. As she looked through the hangers of clothes arranged in beautiful hues and voluptuous textures she couldn't help but notice the odd stares she was getting. Let them look, she thought. Let them see that I'm not afraid.

 

As bold as she claimed to be, Julio could sense it to be a lie, mostly to herself. Try as she might, the fear would always be there, much to his advantage. As he touched the two men, so did his self extend forth and linger through the deep pools of emotion residing within her. Her denial had cast a beautiful defense, but with each pulse of his furnace heart the walls came crumbling down. Soon enough her fear became readily apparent in her mind, realizing that she wasn't ready for what she had started. Who was she to start an idealistic revolution against the misconceptions of her people? She was too small, too unprepared for the possible repercussions. Unsteady now, she couldn't help but look around her, gaping at the people's faces. With just a little bit of help from Julio, her head turned to spot the two men moving toward her. It wasn't hard to figure out where they were headed, murderous intent rich in their eyes. Panic struck her like the fist of an angry god, dazing her beyond belief for a split second before survival overrode conscious thought. She broke like a horse at the gate, through the crowd into the alley, the darkness swallowing her. The men, seeing the traitor had recognized them pushed through the crowd with matched intensity, desperate to catch up for the sake of their people. Julio couldn't help but smile a little as he lifted his sandwich to his mouth. It wasn't too bad, to be honest. He made a mental note to ask for a little less sauce next time as he began taking smooth, calculated steps toward the alley, dropping the rest of his meal in the trash as he passed.

 

By the time Julio's causal walk had brought him upon the party the two men had already caught up to her. She was on the ground, crying softly, not even bothering to call out for help. This far away from the street she wouldn't be heard. The two men stood above her, kicking at her mercilessly like she were an animal. Julio let one man finish his swift kick to the woman's ribs before speaking up, taking the time to drink in the chaotic bounds of emotion radiating from the struggle. It was beautiful, in a way, to watch these creatures shove away their guards and release their true feelings.

 

"What's going on here?" Julio spoke up, a frantic confusion in his voice. Both men stopped beating the woman to turn to him. They studied his face for a moment, then back at the prone woman.

 

"Oh I see, this who you're working for, bitch? This piece of Rebel scum?!" Misguided fury was in his voice, but there was nothing to be done now. His fear had proven itself in his mind, and this was the only thing he could do to cope with it. The woman shot a look at Julio, mixed feelings pouring from them. On one hand, she wanted nothing more than to be saved from this hell, but on the other hand she hated him for showing up. Why couldn't it have been someone else? Anyone else, any Csillian would have done. But no, she had to be rescued by a human, a man who did nothing but provoke her attackers even more.

 

"Uh...I'm not..."

 

"Shut up! I wont listen to your lies!" The other man shouted. He brandished a vibrodagger and wasted no time moving toward Julio. Within a few paces he was upon him, pushing all his weight into a single stab to Julio's chest. The peaked anger Julio had been holding in check this whole time hand finally come to fruition, ready to be used. Moving before thinking, Julio's right hand caught his attacker's own, a quick twist forcing the man to spin one hundred and eighty degrees to avoid his wrist from snapping. By the time his back had collided with Julio's chest, Julio's left hand was already under his neck, jerked back in one quick motion to bring the man's life to an end with a sickening snap. The other man, slightly shocked by how quickly his brother in arms had been cast aside, didn't have a chance to react as Julio lurched forward, face to face in two quickened strides. For a moment the pair just stared at each other until the man realized that his accomplices dagger had just been forced into his solar plexus and upward into the chest. He remained standing until Julio removed the dagger, then slumped lifelessly to the alleyway floor.

 

Julio took a moment to drink in the death, feeling the pair whisper away into the vast expanse of the force. Eyes closed he took a deep breath before turning to the woman. The sudden appearance of his bright golden eyes startled the woman, jumping back even despite her injuries. Julio squatted down on his haunches and extended his left hand.

 

"Are you okay?"

[Vladimir Faust]

Though delayed even so slightly given the distances in hyperspace, reaching from Coruscant out into the Unknown Regions, a descrete, untraceable, and secure communication finally arrives for Julio some time later. It's from Faust, but only carries a short, single sentence.

 

Status report, my apprentice.

[Menthu]

There wasn't much to highlight the arrival of the ship. The old cluncker of a device, the highlight of a time past now simply provided transport, his transport through out the galaxy. Though the cabin had been set for a breeze cool, he still blinked the sweat out of his eyes as he grapsed the controls once more and took the ship out of autopilot. Unfazed by his current feeling of distress, with an unerving calmness h guided the ship into a space lane and simply became apart of the traffic. Another tourist out to see other worlds and visit them all as if he was acting out old fantisies or attempting to complete his bucket list.

 

Well that was what any one who had watched how he handled the traffic operators would have assumed. He on the other hand came with a different purpose.

 

If only there was a frequent flyer miles program for men like me.

 

He knew he was mortal and made no attempts to hide it. He was simply a God trapped in a mortal's body and could therein suffer all the problems that lied with being trapped in such a state. Perhaps some ancient mythological could and would sympathies with him. Yet he knew not of any if there was one.

 

Unchallenged for the most part he descended to the Icy surface before disembarking from his ship. The brittle harsh air hit him full on yet he did not flinch as he continued onward. He was on a self imposed mission. One that required him to see the sights and explore. See how the high class lived, and observe those less fortunate.

 

He made no attempts to hide his general nature or use with the force, letting h is power roll off him in waves. Why would he attempt to hide what he was. Was he not a God trapped amongst men? He raised an eyebrow over the thought before allowing a simply one step forward and then another.

 

This would be an excellent environment to hone his skills in even further.

---edit 12/22/09

A raging inferno burned brightly behind the eyes of the last remaining Serpent Lord and Master in the galaxy. Perhaps there was a hint of madness at slaying all of those he could have called brother yet, it was not madness that drove him. Nor was it some need to prove he was superior to any other being in the galaxy. What drove him was power and chaos.

 

Like two lovers entwined these ideas wrapped around his very being, fueling his every desire. After all, with chaos would arise order. With power would arise control. He was the embodiment of all that was, the living flame, and an agent of Chaos, an agent of life and an agent of death.

 

A breath hotter than what surrounded it marked his passing as he trudged through the streets of this icy and forgotten planet. His gazed seemed to be glued to nothing in particular. Thought it was just as well, since he would have lit even a mountain on fire and caused it to crumble had it locked eyes with him.

 

Csaplar was a beautiful city. It was full Large glistening structures, reflecting the harsh atmosphere that had shaped the people into what they were today. Here was where the center of their activity seemed to be. It was where their life blood seemed to run. He could feel it. Like a pulse, snaking its way through the planet only to seemed to originate and end here.

 

It had called to him and so the Flaming avatar of war had arrived. As that was his current purpose. War for war's sake would be a foolish gesture at best. It would show only a small understanding of what was to be, and what was the truth. He knew in the grand scheme of things that is quest for power, even at the expense of everything around it, would actually be apart of the bigger, larger picture. The picture of the galaxy. He was in a sense letting nature take it course, using himself as in instrument, yet ruling over it like a God, with in his influence sphere. After all no man was a God until he wrote the rules that govern the Universe.

 

With a wave of his hand his the door opened and he disappeared inside. It had been a simple task to set up shop here. He had brought in all of his materials, and had made sure he was with in striking distance of the House palace, the Expeditionary Library, the parliament, and the headquarters for the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet.

 

At first he had stuck with the adage that the fire seems to burn brightest in the dark. Sticking to the shadows, he had chosen his ”˜victims' carefully. Had watched them for hours on days, before he took action. It was through this action he had been able to set up shop to begin with. Forcing his will upon others was just another art he was refining with out par on this icy dust ball of a world.

 

 

------edit 12/27/08----

 

For the inhabitants of Csaplar, fear would grip them in the middle of the night. Fear that some one or something was out there lurking. Menthu however, knew what it was that troubled them. During his meditations, he had been reaching out to all he could feel, reaching out to them to understand heir mindset and their mood. The fact that they were so relatively untouched by galactic events did not seem to bother them in the slightest given the last time any ”˜representatives' of a galactic government had paid a visit.

 

Still it wasn't just the touch of a God upon their feeble mortal minds that was causing a stirring in their breasts and a rise of panic to over take their lungs. As each day he spent on this disgustingly cold ice ball of a planet, he had charmed the citizens of this city to a subtle light show.

 

He had dubbed it something corny, called his Disturbing blaze. It was a variant of his own mind tricking abilities he had been slow to master. By producing a deep red light, almost like the after glow of in image. It had the ability to trigger fear in those foolish enough catch sight of it. It can motivate the unprepared, to leave an area as if a wildfire was coming to their home. It can also force power to relieve traumatic memories. It was this, a daily revisiting of fear that had begun to cause a small sense of unrest in this city. It was done to easier hide his own movements through the city. Hyperwave communication equipment was best left to be appropriated and later set up with those involved would be far more likely to want to look away.

 

Still in a way he was doing them a service. By creating a small sense of chaos to beat in their heart. They would strive to bring forth some semblance of order back into their lives. Perhaps it would be a few smaller things, such as increase security in places, a sacrifice of freedoms and dignity for a more structured and seemingly safe environment. Or perhaps it would lead to something drastic, as an over throw of a government they feel are not providing the stability in the lives that they require. In the end it matter little to him, as this was only a microcosm, of what was surely to sweep across the galaxy. The galaxy like this back water planet had be come stagnant. Even the war that waged with end only breaks inbetween had lost any true purpose in bring about a change. It was simply murder for murder's sake. No order would arise until one side obliterates the other, and restructure the galaxy to deal with the chaos that raged inside of it. Unaware that the chaos is what made up the order. After all what were sentient beings? Creatures of a social order, who had risen above their primal urges. Yet were they not all individually agents of chaos in their own way, even to fuel their bodies, they were the very definition of chaos, the ideal that he strove. For while the galaxy was full of chaotic agents, over all it was ruled by ORDER! Laws of the Universe were and always would be the order that the chaotic agents helped created and then demonstrate, and he”¦ he strove to change the political landscape to match that basic tenet.

 

------edit 1/2/09

 

He took a deep breath and stretched out with the force. It would be quick and it would be painful.

 

He had to admit on some level that this was partly his fault, as he had been foolish enough to attract the youth's attention in some manner anyway. Then again when one was building a bomb meant to be able to wipe out part of a city, it was good if you could at most attract the attention of a youth. As long as no proper authorities were notified, it would be of little consequence. Yet that was the tricky part. If he allowed the boy to live he would surely tell anyone with in hearing distance the doom that was being built underneath the very feet of the populous.

 

Yet it was not fear that grip him, nor was it the fear of discovery that in the end motivated him to end the boy's life. It was instead the need to refine the power that burned underneath his flesh, like a living conduit, always seeking release.

 

So he allowed the boy to see the operation. He had allowed the boy to see him at work building the bomb with the supplies given to him by the Jedi haters on Courscant. Let the nature of the project he was working on take shape inside of the boy's mind and even nudged him in the right direction with a subtle force tap. Shamelessly he manipulated the boy into becoming a threat to his operations.

 

Now Menthu concentrated. The only way to test the limits of what he dubbed his dragon's breath was to put himself into a situation where he would be forced to do so. When he had first began he had only been able to release the fire in the form of a straight line. Tiresome to be sure, and something he strove to do better with. His own tendency to explore the dark side, allowed him to grasp the more subtle nature of the force. He wish to strike fear into the heart of those he combated allowed him to twist the fire into shapes. A snake was the easiest at first yet in a short amount of time, his knowledge and manipulative skill grew, and he was able to form far more complex shapes, such as a dog or even a mighty dragon. Yet truly one can not claim to understand the force if they felt satisfied with such limits. It would be as if one declared they understood a bantha by staring at a bantha's toe. So he sought further understanding, and lost the singular path and line of sight motion of his attack for something a bit more, deadly. Through force of will alone he was able to make his creature of fire give chase to the target for as long as he could se the target, yet clearly that would not help him in this situation. Therefore, with that as an intermediated step, he had discovered he felt was true master of his self dubbed Dragon's breath. He knew the boy, could feel the boy running, through the twists and turns, even as he let loose a fiery blast that resembled some misshapen demon out of some twisted story book.

 

He had discovered that he need only to have seen the target prior to the creation of their fiery blast, and it will give chase much like a proton torpedo will lock onto a target and follow. While he had to stay in the general region, he had little fear of having to move from this spot. The boy could only run so fast, and he would be over taken in mere moments.

 

A dying scream felt through the force was his first indication that he had charred the boy far past recognition. While he had little doubt he would be receiving any more visitors, it was always best to make sure all evidence was erased should some one decided to investigate. Most would chop up the charred remains of the body, and maybe feed it to the strays walking around the city. Others would find some out of the way spot and bury the charred corpse. Yet with a walk that would silence a screaming child, he approached made his way towards what remained of the boy.

 

He closed his eyes and concentrated. This one was far more difficult to accomplish then what he had just preformed. Another self titled and discovered ability was his Pyro-kinetic kill. He gathered up energies of the dark side. Felt them boil with in him and then like an artist he sculpted that which was his. Flames made purely of the dark side engulfed the charred carcass and would continue until the fire had been doused by the force itself, or the body was quite literally, nothing more than a pile of ash, bones and all.

 

He turned and strode away from the crackling flames, reaching up with dark tendrils and setting the air itself on fire, with its intensity. The first test with a panic stricken individual had been a full out success, and it had been done on this ice ball of a planet where, if his mastery of the force had an environmental influence, this would be one of the places it would make itself most readily know. Granted in places of extreme heat, he would be at more power and have easier access to material, but here in the ice cold hell he was spending time in, he it was”¦. Comfortable to know that he was not affected adversely in some huge way by the lower temperature. In a way he felt as connected to it, as he felt towards fire. It was strange. It was something he would of course be forced to meditate on. While the republic did not seem to have a base here. It didn't really matter, since part of his reason for coming here, was to further his mastery of the force. So if he was to allocate the time he was going to spend a a republic facility, instead on meditation, he was sure to find the reasoning behind why the cold seemed to almost be a comfort to him as well as the heat. Why ice seemed to attracted him now almost as much as fire. It was almost as if a message from the force was being sent to him, and he was still unable to understand it.

 

Perhaps”¦ still my time on this world is coming to an end it would seem.

 

---edit 1/25/09

 

Menthu walked calmly to his ship. It was time to leave this despicable planet. In a way he did not feel sorry for the people who would be on this world. Little did the populous of the capital understand what lie at their very feet. Yet it always took loss for one to understand what one had, as well as to demonstrate to the galaxy what needed to be done.

 

This place, had no chance really. In the end, it was nothing more than a demonstration. A sign to the Galaxy at large and in particular to the republic and the Jedi that he meant business. Now would come the true phase of his plan.

 

Perhaps some day I shall return and unlock the secret this ice world seems to be holding it its grasp away from me. For now however, other things must be done, beyond my own self enlightenment beyond my own current and powerful mastery of the force.

[Nokrt]

This man had not accounted to much when he was alive. He was an Imperial Pilot and showed off his skills to the universe at large who had not seen much of his blue skinned race in over a thousand years. He then rose in rank and eventually became Grand Admiral, marshalling the navies of the Empire on the whim of the Emperor, waging war when needed. He was also a Sith who underwent great training to bring himself to the level of Sith Lord and beyond. He studied the Krath arts under the new structure put in by Sith Emperor Kakuto Ryu, and studied under many Sith Masters under his tenure to achieve the rank of Sith Master himself, most memorably the seductress and masterful illusionist Alora, who taught the Sith Lord useful techniques, both in the Force and otherwise. Yet he fell, over and over again he fell to enemies, and experiments and contrived fools who sent him on suicide runs for the Empire.

 

A time long passed since then, and the Sith Lord had not lived, not moved, not progressed. He was lost to the universe, except to those who apparently still recalled loyalty to him, and attempted to make him be once more. Slaves of his will, people who blindly followed him and were branded traitors by the Chiss government. Within a year they had ascertained the items to create a cloning cylinder capable of cloning a force sensitive and the Sith Lord was reborn.

 

Nokttin'okr'tihnt awoke and saw the Chiss around him, and knew at once where he was. He closed his eyes a few more time to adjust to the light in the room and sat up and looked at the staff who seemed to be impressed with themselves. The Sith Lord looked about and wondered if his powers still worked, but decided to not kill those who had proved themselves useful for him. He noticed none of the staff approached, probably fearing him doing what he had just thought as well.

 

"Please, come forward," he said formally in his native tongue, "tell me what has transpired, you have no reason to fear me, for you have my eternal gratitude for your service to me."

 

The Chiss around him seemed to trust him readily and a female came forward and spoke to him regarding the events which had occured over the time the Sith Lord was being recreated. Nokrt was worried about the loss of the Empire, but upon hearing the resurgence of the Sith Order, and of the new Dark Lord, Nokrt was most hopeful. The new Dark Lord was a man he knew of from the old days, and to have him be Dark Lord seemed like a fantastic step for a more logically ruthless Sith Order, rather than the reckless abandon and directionless Order he had once served in.

 

Nokrt stood up and looked into a mirror to see his appearance was virtually unchanged. He was a handsome man for a Chiss, and perhaps even for those who did not fear his red eyes in the rest of the galaxy. His hair was shorter but he would grow it out a bit to suit his personal taste. To top it off, he was wearing what looked like a modified CEDF uniform which seemed quite fitting for him. He would have to take this design in notice when creating his own armors with the Krath techniques he had studied.

 

He turned back to the Staff and made a short bow out of courtesy.

 

"Consider your funding for your facility tripled from where it previously was, continue to keep up this facility and recruit more people who are sick of the old ways of the Chiss to your cause and we will rewin our home eventually for us to govern as we please."

 

The people thanked the Sith Lord for his generosity and Nokrt took it as he was meant to. He had learned much about himself in death, perspective came about him, and the need to murder without purpose was lost. The personel noted to him they had a shuttle to get him wherever he needed to go, and the Sith Lord bowed once more and was led to a shuttle which he boarded and left his cold homeworld behind him, hoping to return one day, and restore Order to his people.