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Dantooine


Ary the Grey

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Kousen, his bladed conical hat still tipped downward to hide most of his face, approaches Seraphis, gauntlet still clenched as his teeth abruptly joined in. It wasn't much to flare the old one's temper. But to show signs of disrespect or think his question idiotic was just one of those wrong buttons to push. He knew that there was no chain of command within the StormCloaks. It was simply his style to lay destruction to this damned galaxy's ruler's, whomever they be, and he didn't care who decided the targets.

 

"I figured one of you lame-brained idiots would have chosen a target by now.." Kousen spoke, lifting his bladed conical upward as to stare eye to eye with Seraphis. "You'll learn soon enough comrade, that i don't care whom we attack or how. Only that we choose who to attack. Sith, Hutts, Black Sun, Empire, Galatic Alliance... I do not care, for soon, they will all burn in hell for their crimes."

 

Reluctant to back down at the sound of Grape's voice turning his attention, Kousen did so. Stepping backwards, he turned toward the being and leaned against the computer housing the projector. All Kousen wanted to do was kill, all he wanted was vengence. And simply sitting here bickering about would be targets, it got them nowhere. And his patience was beginning to wear thin. Perhaps it would be best if the ShadowCloaks were a militia with a chain of command. But this was not for Kousen to decide. All he wanted was to avenge Aeten II, his homeworld.

 

"You point..." Kousen finally spoke toward Grape, though his attitude barely changed. "And i'll kill. Just hurry and decide before i do for you."

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He gave a nod that was barley noticeable to most in the room. He then crossed over to the projector and brought up the image of a skyscraper.

 

"This is a well known bar called La Mareaguerra and it is located primarily on Coruscant's Upper Levels. However the building itself is huge and is rumored to approach the crust with its foundation.

 

Now the place has very tight security there are weapons checks at the doors and cameras in every corner they figured they could put one. Our objective is simple, we go in and we wipe the place right off of the Courscanti landscape. It is a well known haven for pirates, thugs and goons. The best place to wipe out the scum of the galaxy on all scales of the money spectrum, from the rich money launderers to the poor thugs scrapping to get by. After all Justice is blind no need to allow any demographic to escape our wraith.

 

Now you guys can fight and bicker all day long if you so desire. As for me. I am going to go light that bar on fire. If you are with me on this we are moving out right now to perform recon and gather supplies."

 

He stopped talking. There was little need for any more of it. He had outlined the target and the objective and now he had every intention of getting the job done. He began to walk towards the door. If people followed to do this op than that would be great. Otherwise he would take care of it himself.

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Injustice alone can shake down the pillars of the skies, and restore the reign of Chaos and Night.

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Seraphis stared at each person as they spoke. It seemed that each had his own ideas about who would be dealt justice first. This was precisely the problem with the group having no clear leader. And yet, when Shadow Knight brought up a diagram and explained his choice, the Kaleesh looked at the target objectively. There would be no organized resistance, no exceptionally dangerous targets like Sith, and yet it was indeed a place where the Stormcloaks could begin building their reputation. More importantly, it was a target they could attack without days or weeks of preparation.

 

He nodded. "The target seems adequate. I wish to soon pit ourselves against something more challenging, but this is suitable for a field test," he agreed.

 

He slowly turned to look at each of the others, waiting for a dissenter. Most of them seemed willing to take on any target at which they were pointed. It was a dangerous quality, perhaps one more fitting for an assassin than a vigilante. But as long as there were a few individuals like Seraphis himself to guide such beings, the Stormcloaks could benefit from their talents and avoid their instability. Maybe it was a dangerous game to play, but Seraphis for one didn't intend to come out of this game alive. It was the afterlife that was important.

Stormcloak

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"AHHH HAH!" Grape bellowed. "Let's rock and roll!!" His voice was a tad scratchy. Suitable for an old man.

 

He walked over to his little sleeping area and picked up a bag. More than likely, full of his stuff. Which was a blaster, his armor, and a rocket launcher. A HH-15. And he had all sorts of ammo for his gizmo.

 

 

He ran up the stairs, after his friend. Giggling and laughing all the way. It was good to get away from all of the Ewoks.

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With considerably less outward display of emotion, Seraphis followed Grape up the stairs and out into the street. He still drew the occasional stare in towns like this, humanoid but alien enough, particularly bearing the warmask that was ubiquitous among his people, that he was an uncommon sight.

 

That same mask made him seem not to notice the stares at all, and he moved directly and purposefully toward the public hangar area. There, his ship, the Qymaen jai Sheelal, sat awaiting him, its form almost hound-like, his home away from home. At thirty meters long, it had ample interior space and an impressive profile, which was reflected by its armament payload and heavy shielding. He didn't have money to spend on things like extra proton torpedoes--he kept only two--and the blaster cannons could probably use a tune-up, but perhaps that would change in time. As a vigilante, he had little opportunity to receive payment, but would take what he could from his enemies.

 

Boarding the Qymaen, the Kaleesh strode into the cockpit and started system checks, requesting permission to depart from city flight control and listing his destination as Coruscant. Soon he was headed for deep space, prepared to enter hyperspace as soon as the rest of the team was ready. They would get straight to work once they arrived.

Stormcloak

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  • 1 year later...

Onderin brought the shuttle bearing himself, his apprentice, and two Dathomiri women down toward Dantooine, finding a small town on the outskirts of which he could land. Dantooine, despite being an entire planet, had always felt rather simple to him, a world of vast plains dotted with mostly agrarian settlements and enclaves. It had never played a major role in any wars, and its climate was as mild as its people. And yet... to a Jedi, the place was unusually strong in the Force, vibrant not with an overwhelming sense of life like Kashyyyk, but with a kind of potency that hinted at the crystal caves and other secrets buried on a place that had seemingly so little to offer.

 

"Can you feel it?" he found himself saying to Ads as they landed. "This is a very unusual place, despite its modest appearance."

 

He got up and lowered the boarding ramp, addressing all three of his passengers as he headed through the main cabin. "We could be gone for a few hours or more than a day. Let's make sure we bring enough supplies to make camp outdoors tonight if it should become necessary," he said. Looking at his padawan, he added, "I have most of the components for your lightsaber, but you'll either have to salvage your training saber or hope you can find better quality components either in town or somewhere else to get the rest of them." He opened a cabinet and got out the small collection of pieces that he had and handed them to the young man.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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Ads reached out and grabbed the components that Omderin offered him. As he touched them, a slight tingle ran up his arm. It was actually a little warm and seemed an omen of good things to come. Ads gave them a glance--he wanted to examine them longer but did not think this was the proper time--before sliding them into one of the large outer pockets on his pack. He knew enough about lightsabers to know that the crystal not only focused the beam but also focused the Force. He also knew that it was only the crystal that resonated with the Force but the pieces Onderin gave him seemed to echo the Force as well. The Force was all around him on Dantooine and it felt good.

 

"Thank you," he said to Onderin; it was one of the moat genuine thank yous that he had ever given.

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Generally, hitting someone in the head with your weapon kills them regardless of whether they're wearing a life-sustaining mask. I'm pretty sure this is general combat strategy whether your target is Darth Vader or some thug on the street.
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On the far side of the planet from the Jedi Master and his apprentice, a different ship landed, a small fighter ship carrying a single occupant. The Bhelliom lands in a windswept plain, tall grasses sparsely growing. While the Force and life recovered on Dantooine, not all was wellness and light, for every light has its shadow, and some wounds never fully heal.

 

It was those Wounds Faust sought.

 

Far from any occupied settlment, the disembarked Hunter surmised that even those not sensitive in the Force felt a wrongness about this location. While Ar-Pharazon and Barohm Zar's devistation was widespread across the planet, there were concentrations of pain, suffering, and hatred from those felled on Dantooine's infamous killing fields.

 

Faust looks around, taking in a deep breath as if trying to inhale some of that pain that seemed embedded in the very soil. A fitting place for the beginning of the End, and the perfect site to test the ritual he researched during his long absence from the Galaxy's affairs on a suitable scale. He felt no cry in the Force of Onderin's landing- the crystal caves were far away, and even as the dark spot blighted his senses, drowning distant light, so it concealed Faust from the Jedi- at least for now.

 

"Send in the rest," he calls out through his ship's cyberlink. "We have to set up."

 

With a dispassionate gaze, the Sith watches as a freighter lands a short distance away. A half dozen human mercenaries and four white robed acolytes emerge, each slavish in their devotion to the Hunter. Faust's lip twists into a smile, as if savoring what would come to pass.

 

The set up takes nearly four hours as droids set up a massive circle with Faust at the center. Spotlights illuminate the area as metal chain fences twist into a series of cages and arcane patterns that would have been at home on Dromund Kaas. At the cardinal points of the circle, the acolytes, weak and far less than a trained apprentice, chanted, drawing power off Faust's will for feats they would have been otherwise incapable, creating a ring of Dark side energy within the confines of the circle. The freighter's unholy cargo remained unloaded for now, courtesy of Black Sun.

 

At the very center, Faust knelt, leaning with both hands on his Sith Sword, meditating on what was to come.

 

Soon...

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Dantooine was a delightful planet as far as Qaela was concerned. It was not too far removed from Dathomir, at least from what she could see. The best part was that it hummed with dark spots that could make delightful homes for Nightsister clans if the opportunity ever arose. The others seemed too blinded by the glare of the light to care about the comforting darkness, but not her. She welcomed the dark, loving it for what it was, and accepting it as familiar.

 

She was somewhat saddened to realize that there was no Jedi facility here like there was on Ilum. At least then, she might have been able to persuade Starlisk into giving her the parts to make a lightsaber of her own. It was no matter, she would content herself on watching and listening.

 

With the bag that contained all of her remaining possessions in tow, she followed the others. This was her element, far more than Coruscant or the wastelands of Ilum. Keeping to herself and staying behind the group, she kept watch. Slowly, as they walked on, she could feel the air beginning to sing in a gloriously dark melody. They weren't approaching a center of darkness, far from it. They seemed to be heading toward another of the burning light spots Jedi so loved. No, this increasing darkness was from somewhere else. She didn't know where, but she could sense it and she was intrigued. Something was changing and she wasn't sure the Jedi could sense it or even if they cared.

 

Until she knew what was happening, she would say nothing. There was no need to alarm the Jedi over nothing. Perhaps such things were common on this planet and Starlisk knew about them. It was not her place to interrupt Starlisk's training, not now at least. That would only cause problems and she didn't need any further problems.

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"No need to thank me," the Master said to his apprentice as they disembarked. "Few would call the challenge you are about to undertake easy." He stepped down onto the Dantooine soil and breathed in the natural scents. The rural setting and fair weather did him some good, serving to put him at ease after being forced to remain constantly on guard and surrounded by the dark side on Dathomir for several days.

 

"I've never actually been to a crystal cave here," he revealed. "But I believe there is a crystal here for you, one that will seek you and allow you to find it. You have the lead here, and your first challenge will be to locate it."

 

((I'm done driving the plot forward for a little while. I should be able to post a little more consistently though. You're up, Ads. ))

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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She felt very uncomfortable on this planet. She could feel a vast difference from her home planet in the pit of her stomach. it felt lighter here, less oppressive. She even felt tempted to run through the fields without her boots, to feel the caress of the plains grass. But there was stuff to do, and no matter what, she didn't want to act foolish in front of everyone. She fell into step beside the Jedi Apprentice, gripping her bow in her hand.

 

"What Fauna are we likely to encounter on our way to these cave systems?"

 

She could feel a tinge of jealously at him able to wield a jedi blade. Perhaps someday she would be able to as well.

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Two hours pass and the Dark grows.

 

Faust's meditation continued as the mercenary and droid guards unloaded the slaves purchases from Black Sun, roughly jamming them into the cages lining the parameter of the circle. The chanting acolytes, drawing off Faust, ignore the wailing of the slaves, and spread the dark into a thick cloak over the half-a-mile wide circle, twining it with the dark taint left by the marks of the Killing Fields.

 

Standing up straight, wobbling ever so slightly from the exertion, Faust brushes aside one grey tinged lock of hair from his face, holding his Sith Sword to the heavens. On cue, a low electrical current, running from the freighter, started to run through the cages holding the slaves, causing true wails of pain and terror.

 

One more hour passes, and by now there is a feeling of Darkness that can be felt across the planet, even permeating the Crystal Caves.

 

It is time.

 

He begins chanting. Not one for mysticism, even though he lost what passed for his soul to the dark side of the Force ages ago, he following the Ritual he researched carefully, piecing it together with a scientific precision and his iron will. The acolytes followed, almost in counter-point, their pitches rising to frenzied screams as the current now forces the slaves on the edge of life an death.

 

The mercenaries, located near their employer started to sway, clutching their heads, their stomachs turning. Too late they realized they were at ground zero for something horrible, something awful. One lurched towards the parameter, but fell to the earth with a thud, hands hitting the soft ground.

 

Faust's eyes blazed, glowing with color, turning an icy blue, then a deep orange, flashing red, and then back to a pale azure that was almost white. As they flicked with red, he could sense the pain, the death that the two infamous Sith marked into this place, the Darkness of his rite. A black mist descends on the parameter, even straying outside its edges, even as a red one seems to eek up from the soil, as if it gave up the blood of the fallen.

 

The chanting reached crescendo, with Faust's voice echoing through the mechanical set up, reverberating not from machines or amplifiers, but his own power.

 

Life and Death... Wound in the Force... Price of Suffering... Price of Power...

 

Yield to me your all, Darkness... Give me you sorrow, your fear, your anger.. your hatred... Give unto me the life of the sacrificed...

 

Dust to dust... ashes to ashes.. your life be mine!

 

There's a flash of black and red and explosion of Dark side energy that marks the completion of the Ritual. Faust is buffeted with ice... the cold of the grave. Hurricane strength winds tear into him, lifting him off the ground, chilling and numbing his body. There was a warmth and vitality coated in those icy tendrils of Darkness.

 

When it passes, the skies are overcast. Electrical equipment is burnt out, there's a terrible burning smell through the whole parameter. Faust is the only living thing left in the radius. The slaves, the acolytes, the mercenaries are all dead, as is the grass at the Hunter's feet, the bugs in the soil, and even the microbes within. Dead birds don't rain from the sky- those creatures knew better and fled long ago.

 

Still numb, feeling both his very limbs and cybernetics iced by the ceremony, Faust once more brushes back the same lock of hair from earlier- no longer tinged with grey, but as bright and blond as when the Hunter was in his early twenties.

 

It had worked... drawing in the life of the sacrificed and other participants, as well as the Wound in the Force that the two Sith left here ages ago, Faust drew in their power and the taint, setting down the road to immortality. But, this remote field in Dantooine was only a first step, a trial run to determine if the ritual worked. It exceeded his expectations.

 

Knowing that the Dark side energy would be felt far beyond Dantooine's orbit, and exhausted by the effort, Faust stumbled past the melted chain link fences towards his ship, the Bhelliom, which lay outside the parameter of the ritual and was already firing up its engines once more per cybermental command. He knew the freighter would self-destruct when he was out of range, covering up the physical evidence, but the Darkness and sheer void of Force left behind would still tell others that something horribly amiss came down here. Feeling dead grass beneath his feet, Faust noted the rot extended past the parameter.

 

Despite the weariness, he felt both warm, powerful surge of life and a cold, icy block within his stomach, keeping him strong and alert. The icy block came with it a terrible hunger, calling for more lives more power... the start of Faust knew would be a terrible addiction and hunger, no less fearsome than the batches of RAGE he sold to Black Sun.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Faust wearily stumbled on to his ship. Concerned he'd lit up the Force like a flare in the empty night, there was a moment of relief as he reached the Bhelliom without encountering resistance. Even his Force premonition didn't pick up danger yet.

 

Instead of fleeing off world, Faust speeds on a low, overland route, his sensors picking up the detonation of the freighter, incinerating the ritual site, the bodies, and everything connected with either- save for a lifeless void in the Force around the new impact crater.

 

Landing at a farming settlement some distance away, Force lands his ship on the outskirts, once more meditating, searching for possible danger in his next course of action. A coded message, highly encrypted on a secure and hidden line used by Black Sun operatives beams through to Bespin for SIlas's viewing pleasure. The Hunter doubted that the Black Sun leader would be particularly roused by Faust's actions, but was determined to keep his word to the leader, perhaps piquing his interest in helping Faust finance the next round. If not... Faust had his own means.

 

Feeling steadier, Faust strolls into a local watering hole. Over his white trenchcoat, he instead hides in a black cloak and raised hood, noting that this color was a break from his usual appearance. There's an unease in the place, a palpable fear. Though Faust doubted there were truly any Force-sensitives among this lot, being so close to ground zero still caused even the most senseless fool to feel something. Sitting down near the bar counter, Faust quietly hails the bartender. "Next round's on me." Even as he states that, he sends out an aura in the Force, a subtle pushing to make his own appearance rather unremarkable, rather forgettable.

 

The drinks dispearse and Faust keeps the subtle push outward, trying to hide his presence both the five senses as well as in the Force. More rounds pass at the Hunter's exchange of credits, paid with cold cash up front, and soon there's an inebriated crowd in the bar, drinking to forget.

 

At that point, Faust strikes. A quiet motion and telekinesis closes the doors and locks them, sealing Faust in with about two-and-a-half dozen tipsy patrons and bar staff. The Hunter smiles wolfishly, and sets about his next plan.

 

When the smoke literally clears, there's a score of charred bodies in the bar, fried with blaster fire to disguise their desicated, life drained nature. Their life force was strong as Faust drained them with his bare hands, feeling the void and pouring into the Wound Faust absorbed. Nine stare blankly at the wall, their minds savagely ripped and reprogrammed. No finess, no subtle probing and rewiring, but instead a blank slate replaced with a few simple hard commmands. Follow, obey, kill all others or die trying.

 

The last is unconscious, wounded with a stab wound that would slowly bleed out his life by the time a rescue came. There was a set of instructions on him, preportedly coming from Sith Master Geki, outlining a failed ritual. Faust couldn't hide the dark side taint, but he could create a false trail of suspects.

 

Clearing out back to his ship with the nine in tow, Faust heads for the Bhelliom and boards it, accompanied by another ship with his nine new followers. They set off to clear the atmosphere and to the Galaxy at large...

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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((Sorry, I completely forgot that we switched threads))

 

"You have the lead here, and your first challenge will be to locate it."

 

Ads glanced at his master before hiking up his pack and taking taking the lead. A small hill lay before them; Ads figured that even if climbing it didn't help him figure out which way he should head, it would provide a nice view of the landscape at the very least. As the group approched the hill, Ads closed his eyes for a few steps, hoping that it would give him at least a general direction to explore. It didn't, although it did give him the opportunity to trip over a rock. Ads stumbled a couple steps before glancing back at the group to see if they had noticed. As he looked back, Arleigh questioned the Jedi about the local wildlife. Ads had no prior knowledge of the planet, so he simply shrugged and said, "Don't know...probably some pretty generic mammalians or their corollaries, or, um, that's not the word. What am I thinking of? You know, their equivalents. But that's not the word I want. Whatever..." Looking over his other shoulder, he asked Onderin, "Any ideas?"

 

Ads didn't really listen to see if Onderin had any ideas. Instead he focused on the Force, searching for one crystal in one cave, somewhere on the vast planet. Everything about it seemed vast to Ads as he looked out across the fields of Dantooine. Something about that sounded familiar to Ads. It was as if it was a detail from some long-forgotten past. He repeated it in his mind...the fields of Dantoo--the Killing Fields of Dantooine! Ads turned back to Onderin.

 

"This planet was the site of something dark--very dark. I don't know the details; it was something I heard about in a distant memory. Perhaps you know more about--or at least have heard of--the Killing Fields of Dantooine." Despite the name, Ads didn't really know if that was something that necessitated stopping and having a conversation. So he kept walking. They could walk and talk at the same time. Except that they couldn't. A flash of darkness (if you will accept that terminology) blanketed them. Ads' eyes immediately shot to Onderin, bouncing off of Qaela a second later.

 

"What was that?"

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Generally, hitting someone in the head with your weapon kills them regardless of whether they're wearing a life-sustaining mask. I'm pretty sure this is general combat strategy whether your target is Darth Vader or some thug on the street.
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It definitely hadn't been there at first, but Onderin was quickly overcome with a sense of foreboding as he set foot on Dantooinian soil. It grew quickly, a powerful dark side emanation that seemed to fill his head like a roar. When Ads addressed him, he smiled weakly, not even having really heard the young man's words, so consumed was he by this phenomenon.

 

Then it released like a wave of energy across the planet. The Jedi Master took a step back as though buffeted by the emanation, then dropped to one knee. It was accompanied by the echoes of death, something like mass murder. Though not on the scale of other such events he had witnessed like the leveling of Coruscant, the destruction of Ziost, and the simultaneous implosion of capital ships in fleet combat, he had long dulled his perception of those things and only recently had regained sensitivity to them. The result was that he felt this particular wave of death more keenly than anything he could remember since the start of the war.

 

"Something... something terrible has happened," he said, oddly queasy and short of breath. But what? And where?

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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((If I'll be driving the plot more, I'm going to try to post more than just once each of us has had a turn although I'll try not to shoehorn anyone into posting things that they wouldn't otherwise.))

 

Ads watched his master, looking for any sign of what was going on. Ads had certainly felt bursts from the dark side of the Force before, but never anything quite like this. It seemed to have a distinct, individual character to it, but not one that Ads recognized. He gave Arleigh a half-smile before looking to Qaela. He obviously couldn't really suspect anything from her; even if she had it out for them she certainly had too much disdain for technology to pull off an interstellar...thing of this magnitude. But she was the group's resident dark sider so if he wasn't getting anything from Onderin, Ads had to consider Qaela as the closest thing to an expert he could find.

 

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Ads reached into the Force, listening for it to tell him anything.

 

The wave of dark side energy baffled Ads and perhaps was even so intense that it was able to obscure itself through sheer volume, but on a planet like Dantooine with caves full of mysterious crystals, there was an added effect. The massive wave of the Force made the crystals sing out like a choir assembled from across the galaxy. Perhaps others would have heard it differently, but Ads heard one soloist singing above the rest, and (to even further extend an already possibly over-extended metaphor) he knew his blocking, he knew what steps to take across the stage that was that whole world. So basically, it helped him to figure out which crystal was his and where it was.

V4yWwXl.png

Generally, hitting someone in the head with your weapon kills them regardless of whether they're wearing a life-sustaining mask. I'm pretty sure this is general combat strategy whether your target is Darth Vader or some thug on the street.
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((By all means, if someone addresses you, POST and don't worry about the order unless there is combat or something. We need to keep moving and stop being held back by one person))

 

Qaela couldn't help but smile at the cool wave of darkness that swept over the planet and through her very being. It was delicious to the point of intoxication. She had not felt such purely good darkness before and wished that it would never end. Whatever this place was, she liked it. If it had feelings such as this periodically sweeping the land, she would never need to leave. Arleigh was a fool to give up such deliciousness in favor of the light.

 

Due to her bliss, she almost missed the Jedi Pup's question. Even the disappointment of being interrupted from enjoying this sensation wasn't enough to sour her suddenly great mood."I have no idea," she said breathlessly. She already missed its power even as it began to fade into a comforting blanket of darkness. It wasn't entirely a true statement as she could sense familiarity with many of the darker, more spirit driven elements of Nightsister magic. She was, of course, educated in them, but not to the degree that she learned other, more traditional uses of the Force. Either way, she wasn't sure how that related to whatever was happening here and wasn't going to start guessing. "Coming here was his idea, remember," she said pointing at Starlisk with the tip of her spear, "so don't blame me. Regardless, I like it."

 

Now that she noticed the Jedi Master, she saw that he was not exactly enjoying the experience. It was surprising that the Pup was able to stay on his feet. Yes, he definitely has experience with the darkness. She frowned and strode over to where he was kneeling on the ground, clearly shaken. She shifted her spear into her left hand and placed her right on his shoulder. "You really aren't able to be around the darkness, are you?" she said quietly with a voice full of concern. She had always thought his aversion to the dark was a philosophical choice, not one that had physical side effects. It was a surprise that he could stand being around her for as long as he had, and it explained a lot about why he constantly rebuffed her advances.

 

As a favor to him, she reached out into the area immediately around them and began drawing the darkness into herself and away from the rest of them as though she were preparing to unleash a great spell back at home. She marveled at how easy it was to absorb so much comforting darkness and wondered what it would be like to just let loose with all this energy against someone or a great many someones. That wasn't why she was doing this, though. She contained the energy and would slowly dissipate it over the next few minutes. "I hope that helps," she murmured softly.

Qaela Sig

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Onderin gave Qaela a pained look. "I can no more embrace this darkness than I can leap into an open flame. It is poison, a distortion and perversion of the Force that I serve. Surely, when you were young and first touched the darkness, it was not immediately comfortable to you?"

 

The Jedi Master looked at Ads. "I think whatever event happened bears investigation. But such a threat is best faced by one that has a lightsaber should it become necessary," he said.

 

Still, he began to examine within himself and within the environment the aftereffects of the dark side wave, searching for any clue of what event had caused it. It felt too close to be a galactic event. But there was something in the Force, some omen subtle enough that he might have been imagining it, that told him that somehow the source of this was one person, one of his oldest enemies who had been reported dead many times but had always managed to endure....

 

Faust.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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"...such a threat is best faced by one that has a lightsaber should it become necessary."

 

"Well, in that case, follow me. Believe it or not, all of that just helped me to find the crystal I need. I'm not exactly sure on the distance, but it shouldn't be too far to consider walking and after all that, I don't know how safe it would be to fly." Ads turned shifted his gaze from the group behind him to ponder what looked like a system of cliffs in the distance. "If I'm not mistaken, I would imagine the reason that you landed here in the first place is that these crystals are only found in this general area? That would probably explain those old ruins off in the distance over there," Ads pointed at an old, ruined complex off to their...either north or south, Ads wasn't sure which hemisphere they were in. "Anyway, that tells me that the crystals probably aren't really that far away. So, as I said, follow me."

 

Ads set off pretty much due west beside the small hill that he had considered climbing earlier. They kept walking, until their walk could properly be called a hike, at which point they promptly continued hiking, considering that they neither were just out for a nice walk nor had any idea at which point a walk becomes a hike--it is a very poorly-defined point. At any rate, they continued hiking (although their hiking rate was not at just any rate, but rather at an acceptable hiking rate) until it came time for their next meal. Ads was always bad at knowing what to call meals when not eating at a normal time on a new planet. Perhaps it was dinner time but they were eating lunch, or imagine, no matter how ridiculous it would be, if it was time for tea and they were eating supper! Regardless of the specific meal, Ads felt prompted to tell the others, "Don't worry, I can tell that we're closer now. Has anyone noticed anything special in the Force since earlier? I haven't, for one. Er, I, for one, haven't. Doesn't matter which, I guess..."

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Generally, hitting someone in the head with your weapon kills them regardless of whether they're wearing a life-sustaining mask. I'm pretty sure this is general combat strategy whether your target is Darth Vader or some thug on the street.
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As Onderin reaches into the dark void Faust left, systems away, the Hunter's attention snaps to. He feels that something is amiss, a disturbance in the lines of probability granted through foresight and meditation in the Force. He is aware that someone was probing his handiwork, picking up trace edges of the Hunter's signature. Faust has no idea who is probing for him, only where. Not one of the Sith, he feels that much. Faust throws out a singular word and thought to his unknown tracker. It is both a declaration of intent, as well as a challenge to the one who would make the Hunter the hunted.

 

Coronet

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Qaela didn't answer Starlisk's question, but instead looked at Arleigh to see how she was handling this welcoming embrace. It was a good opportunity to gauge the girl's resolve in regards to her new path. It was not too late for her as far as Qaela was concerned. It was still possible for her to teach the girl during her exile. She doubted that Starlisk would turn on them, not at this point in the game. The Jedi had too soft of a heart for that sort of thing.

 

That line of thinking brought up some even more interesting thoughts. Could Starlisk kill her now? She doubted it, even if he was ordered by his superiors to do so. She would probably have to do something he deemed absolutely horrible before he would turn on her, and even then, she didn't think he had the stomach to actually kill her. It was an interesting notion, one that her Sisters had found intriguing when she told them.

 

The Pup was now issuing the orders so they started walking. Qaela didn't mind wandering around the planet as long as she kept near Starlisk. It wasn't like she had anything better to do with her home denied to her and the Sith likely thinking she was dead or a traitor. As they walked, she considered the younger Jedi with some interest now. Despite her first impressions of him, he was far more than he seemed on the surface. Somehow, she had little doubt that he would kill her well before Starlisk could ever make himself do it. He was definitely a threat to her, one that needed watching.

 

Along the way, she fell in beside Starlisk. "I was never forced," she said abruptly. "My mother, for all of her failings, never forced me to accept the dark. I don't know how you Jedi view things, but there was no 'conversion' moment for me. It was just... part of for as long as I can remember. Now, it is what I choose because it is what I am. The dark tried to control me once, but I prevailed. You think I am evil and I will admit to having done things you would call evil, but I am a person. I can do 'good' things as well if I have reason to. . . and perhaps someone to give me that reason."

Qaela Sig

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Onderin remained mindful of the disturbance in the Force as they walked. It did not seem particularly active, but there was a clear void left, a hole in the life force of the planet as what was normally a thriving and carefully-balanced ecosystem was disrupted. Now it was as though it stood on a precipice, and the Jedi Master grew more uneasy the more he examined it. He felt compelled to investigate further, to seek out the cause of the disturbance, driven by his duty as a Jedi and champion of the light side of the Force, even as his baser instincts told him to remain clear of the despoiled area.

 

The walk was quickly becoming an exercise in patience for the former Admiral, and he was relieved when Qaela submitted her response to his earlier statements. Although he could not take at least part of his attention off the disturbance, he replaced it from the forefront of his mind in order to address her back.

 

"I have seen you act selflessly," he allowed, casting a meaningful glance at Arleigh. "But I have also seen you submit to impulse. The dark side is driven by anger and fear--I have both seen and felt the effects of that compulsion. I have witnessed Sith Lords murder billions of innocents for little greater purpose than to feel empowered or to express their contempt. While you are no Sith, I have seen perfectly upstanding and moral individuals fall to the influence of the dark side and exact unspeakable acts that they would never have considered in their lives before. One truly heinous act will be remembered over a thousand kindnesses--how can you guarantee that you will always remain in control when the stakes are dire?"

 

He shook his head. "Although you are experienced for your age, you are still young," he said. "Even one step down the path of the dark side will eventually consume and destroy you." If she came to recognize that truth, as he hoped she would, she still had time to turn back. Maybe she just didn't see the long-term damage that devotion to the dark side would inevitable cause, content instead to take advantage of the short-term benefits and power that it gave her while she was still in control. Otherwise... well, Onderin hoped that when she eventually lost the battle, he or someone else would be there to destroy her before she could do too much damage.

 

"It's not too late to..." he started, but his voice suddenly trailed off and his eyes unfocused. "Coronet." He shook his head. "I hope we're getting close Ads, because we have our next destination."

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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"Uhh...we're close enough. I guess. If we really rush and if we don't take a break to sleep, we should be back to the ship by morning." Ads wolfed down the rest of his meal and picked up his pack. "Coronet?" Ads asked, childhood images of the Jewel of Corellia jumping to mind. He waved for Onderin to walk with him. "What's in Coronet?" The group set off for the crystal caves.

 

A couple hours later, the group entered what Ads could only describe as a system of canyons. It was a series of path-like gorges formed by small cliffs separated by gaps just wide enough for the group to fit through. About an hour later, they came to an opening in the ground. It was the entrance of the caves that Ads had been leading the group to.

 

"This is it," said Ads, pointing to the opening. "Anyone have anything we can use as a light or are we just going to have to turn on our lightsabers?"

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Generally, hitting someone in the head with your weapon kills them regardless of whether they're wearing a life-sustaining mask. I'm pretty sure this is general combat strategy whether your target is Darth Vader or some thug on the street.
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Starlisk sometimes confused her a great deal. He kept warning about going down the path of the dark side and not to take that step. She didn't need to take any steps to walk the path of darkness because she was already there. She embraced the darkness and it welcomed her. She did what was necessary without the weak constraints that the Jedi imposed upon themselves. She was a free woman, or at least, would fight until she was. She only submitted to who and what she wanted, nothing more.

 

If only he knew what the darkness had cost her. It was not an easy path, she knew that much. But she had paid her price and it was done. Any further choices she made would be dealt with when she got to them. If only Starlisk knew how many of those choices were up to him.

 

She was going to answer, but then he interrupted himself with some word of some place she hadn't heard of before. It was a curious thing to see him so easily distracted, she would have to remember that. Since she didn't know what he was talking, she said nothing and let the Pup respond. When he asked what was in this "coronet" place, she too was interested in the answer. It probably had something to do with the comforting darkness they were experiencing, but she didn't know how the two were connected. Perhaps it was the place on this planet that gave off such strong waves of darkness. If so, she was excited to go there.

 

Starlisk seemed quite a bit distracted by the darkness, so she left him alone. If he was only going to keep trying to change her path, it would be fruitless to talk to him anyway. He needed to accept her for who she was without trying to change her beliefs. She was open to working with him and even "doing good" but not at the expense of having to give up the darkness and becoming a Jedi. If he couldn't accept that, then this would be a far more difficult journey for them all than she had hoped.

 

The girl kept silent--a wise move in the presence of her betters. Only a fool spoke without being spoken to when around her betters. Many a time, Qaela had had that beaten into her. Only recently, when she was strong enough to have very few betters did she begin to talk more.

 

They finally got to wherever the Pup was leading them. He asked for a way to light things. The only way she could produce a light here quickly would be to use a spell and she doubted that Starlisk would appreciate her using another spell in an environment as dark as this. She could easily make a torch if given a few minutes, but that would likely be unnecessary. Surely Starlisk had some illuminating device.

 

Even then, it wouldn't do not to leave him unmolested. "I thought Jedi were supposed to be prepared," she said jokingly.

Qaela Sig

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Onderin brought himself back to where they were standing outside the cave, focusing once again on his companions. "The... disturbance--or, rather more likely, the perpetrator of the disturbance--just reached out to me in the Force and told me to go to Coronet. I'm not sure why he or she wants me to go there, but I'm willing to bet that's the site of the next attack."

 

The Jedi Master was a little uncomfortable with the thought. After all, he had grown up in Coronet City, and his elderly parents still lived on its outskirts. It reminded him of how he hadn't gone to visit since just after the Arach'tar invasion, and now it was possible that they were in danger from someone powerful enough to have created quite a strong effect here on Dantooine.

 

He gestured for Ads to enter the cave. "Use your lightsaber if you must, but you might find that the crystals are quite luminescent. The Force is very strong in a place like this... you must clear your mind of expectations and let it guide you," he told the young man. He glanced at Arleigh as well, who seemed rather transfixed on the caves. "If you would like to explore, you may."

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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Arleigh kept silent in the aftermath of the dark wave of energy. It was not that she was scared, because how couldshe be with Jedi around, but more that she felt comfortable in that darkness. And that scared her. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light and she moved closer to the Jedi. Maybe being closer would clear this shadow in the pit of her stomach. The Jedi Master cleared her to explore. She nodded and looked to Ads, she kept her voice low and the whisper sounded abit gruff. "Would you like me to come with you?" She gestured towards a faint glow coming from around a bend in the tunnel. "Or should we split up?"

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((Apparently I got logged out while typing on my phone so I lost some of my post. Sorry if it's not great.))

Ads was almost surprised to hear Arleigh speak. She had been so quiet during the hike; Ads had become used to he just following him around. When she spoke, she did so confidently although Ads could sense that she wasn't quite as sure of herself as she acted. Ads felt strangely responsible for her as she asked him whether she should stick with him or not.

 

"Yeah, follow me. We don't want you getting lost and I don't know what else is in the caves."

 

Ads looked to Onderin and Qaela before turning back to Arleigh. Nodding to the caves, he asked her, "Shall we?" and he stepped down into the cave. He barely had to tap into the Force to find the crystal he was looking for. Although the crystal had already faded a good deal since the wave of dark side energy, being so close to it more than made up for the dampening.

 

((I lost stuff starting here so I'm just going to jump to the stuff that's most relevant to you.))

The caves glowed in an eerie blue light that was ethereal and Ads thought it might have come from the Force and then Ads asked Arleigh, "Can you feel the crystals? They're focusing and amplifying the force."

V4yWwXl.png

Generally, hitting someone in the head with your weapon kills them regardless of whether they're wearing a life-sustaining mask. I'm pretty sure this is general combat strategy whether your target is Darth Vader or some thug on the street.
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((Still very sorry I have been absent, Deaths in the family and school take their toll))

 

Arleigh smiled softly and moved beside him as he made his way down the cave. She shivered slightly as they entered an sub cave filled with luminescent crystals. Some of them radiated the same energy she had felt earlier. That dark malevolence. Older than death itself. They looked as if they had once been pure white, but now pulsed softly with a crimson flair. Even the brightest things can be corrupted. Arleigh shivered again and fixed her eyes on an orange crystal. It flickered with a sun like hue.

 

"I can feel them. The y are brimming with this energy!" She took a deep breath and basked in the light of the blue green crystals. She could almost feel their happiness. Their willing joy. So easily corrupted. Like a flower wilting in a stiff and sudden spring frost. Her thin fingers brushed against one of the Red Crystals as she reached for the orange one. A feeling of unthinkable rage pulsed throughout her body and she spasmed. Falling to the mossy floor. She coughed hollowly.

 

"Don't touch the red ones...."

 

She brushed a fallen red lock back into its place and pulled herself back up. "I think, I will watch you first, then follow suit..." Her hands were still shivering from that power. So strange...

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((A small note first: Sith lightsaber crystals were typically synthesized. That's not to say that there's anything wrong with the red crystals, I just want you to know.))

 

Ads nodded at Arleigh's words. The crystals she noted were a deep scarlet. While not quite blood red, they definitely evoked the image. Ads reached down to help the girl back onto her feet. As the pair stood back up, Ads asked her "What did you feel?" He had an idea what she would say, but he left the words up to her.

 

Edit: Wow, posting from your phone really makes a post seem longer than it is.

V4yWwXl.png

Generally, hitting someone in the head with your weapon kills them regardless of whether they're wearing a life-sustaining mask. I'm pretty sure this is general combat strategy whether your target is Darth Vader or some thug on the street.
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As the other two went deeper into the caves, Qaela elected to stay with Starlisk. She could sense the light within the caves and while it wasn't enough to nauseate her, it wasn't something that made her want to explore further. Besides, she was quite content to stay near Starlisk.

 

"You are quite worried about that darkness," she stated. "Whatever it is, why do I get the feeling that you are going to go after whoever caused it? And, why do I get the even stronger feeling that you are going to need some help against someone who is capable of unleashing that sort of power?" She leaned her spear against the cave wall and crossed her arms. "You are going to need someone a bit more powerful than the Pup there to deal with this, and I don't think the girl is going to cut it either. That leaves me, and while I normally don't mind getting my hands dirty, I am not exactly eager to go against someone that strong, especially if they are Sith. Despite my reservations, I am willing to help you--for the right price."

Qaela Sig

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