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Korriban


Exodus

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((Edited for clarity/readability))

 

A cold hand dipped into the Twi’lek’s mind and pulled silently, picking memories, picking thoughts, and altering her senses to see what it wanted her to see.

 

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

 

A splinter of ire rose to the delicate surface of Lallu's cheek, but her expression went relatively unchanged. When, despite her well-crafted façade, the Twi’lek was frantically trying to get above water. Her eulogy for the feelings she held for him was apparently futile. Her passionate fire had not extinguished and would not easily be deterred. Still, were she to emphatically let loose all the feelings she had for him over the past few weeks, she was more likely to get a violent response than an equally impassioned one.

 

“I was gone, serving your former master, Exodus,” Lallu said, her response void of color.

 

Furion's visage grew a shade darker for a moment. He stared hard at her, his shimmering golden eyes probing for any hint of deceit in her mask. His stance was vague. Where before, Lallu could cut a hint of his position or his intentions from the way he stood, his stance seemed foreign and distant. But his eyes drew attention, as they always did. And, although mesmerizing in appearance, they took a hard and spiteful edge.

 

Liar. Furion seethed through closed teeth. Why would he bother?

 

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

 

The energy draw was subtle, unnoticeable. A trap, notorious and mentally destructive, was everything the Sith Specter wanted. Delicious agony, passion, hate, and everything in between streamed in ample amounts to its waiting maw.

 

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

 

A vague sensation lingered at the edge of her mind. A small wisp felt out of place, but it was far away. It sounded almost like someone calling out to her, but she couldn't make it out. Lallu's mind struggled to be angry but only succeeded in miring itself in doubt. Her recent issues glared at her, shining like a terrible light on her face. And, like a glove, she fell right back into her submissive role, despite how far she'd come to let him go. Lallu looked to the ground and nodded, woefully.

 

Thought so.

 

A thick shadow passed over Furion's wolfish grin, but Lallu didn’t catch it. Her ruby eyes were transfixed on the shadows that ebbed on the stone floor. Cold and indifferent, they wrapped around her feet and curled aimless amidst the cracks.

Now. To business.

 

Furion’s eyes glowed fiercely once more as they glared further into the cavern, toward a doorway that Lallu couldn’t see. His countenance, although impossibly harsh, harshened even more. The contours of his face seemed granite in their grim solidity.

 

I have a problem. The familiar bass of his commanding voice echoed with power unquestionable. And, not for the first time, Lallu felt compelled to aid. She felt compelled to help him.

 

My daughter doesn’t seem to understand discipline. Numerous times she has risked her life and mine with foolish diversions. She even entertained the idea of joining the Jedi. It would be trivial for me to deal with this. But, as a trial for you, Apprentice, I want you to do it.

Wh-what? The trepidation of acknowledgment clouded Lallu’s words as she began to suspect what was coming next.

 

Simple. Kill Rose

 

Like the sound of a pin dropping, his words clattered against the void of her mind. She couldn’t bring herself to understand the thought process he took to arrive at that conclusion. But he never did share his plans with her. Fruitlessly, Lallu fought to look at Furion and tried to find some reason he would do it. But, it didn’t help. The raven mop that clung to his head was of the shape it had always been. His eyes, though more feral than before, were just as mesmerizing. His stance bore the same regal bearing it did when they first met. No feature betrayed his intent. His expression was consistent and his will was strong. His command was final. And, like Exodus, his word was law. But... Rose?

I- wh-what do you mean kill Rose? Lallu strangled out of her mouth. Moments of companionship streamed like a balm to her weary mind. The memories of time shared with the girl as they mutually cared for one another, helped her when he abandoned her time and time again. She felt compelled to argue, but the moment her anger spiked, she felt numbness where fury should be.

 

I meant what I said.

 

A frigid hand violently ravaged the depths of her mind, grasping at pieces and tearing them apart. There was some vague connection to a telepathic presence, but she couldn’t see it. White hot pain streamed to the surface and overwhelmed the limits of her nervous system. The back of her neck scalded like magma to the skin and brought her reeling to the floor. No sound found her frantic thoughts, and without a force left to keep her, she fell to the cold sandstone.

 

Silence followed as the Twi’lek writhed on the ground.

 

Are these holding you back?

 

Lallu looked on as best she could. It was a pain to crane her neck from the ground. But after a moment of struggle, she saw his bounty. From where she was, she could only assume that Kana, Kara, and Kava - the physical manifestations of her inner demons and emotional volatility - were dangling in his grasp, just out of reach. Their energies, devoid of physical shape, were like pyres of light in the dark of the cavern. Whimsical thoughts clouded her mind, searching for something pleasant to diffuse the despair.

 

They’re a waste anyway…

 

His fist clenched tight in the open air, and like water being poured onto a rolling campfire, the light of their presence was snuffed out. Impulsively, Lallu reached to the back of her neck to feel for the scar. But bare flesh met her anxious question.

 

Her mind was empty. Her memories retained the shell and physical elements of what Lallu and Keenava were, but the titanic pain of his technique left her with nothing. Her emotions weren’t screaming at her. No feelings of impulsive desire whispered in her ear. And no derisive powers of logic were guiding her hands. Her body and mind retained their prowess. But like distant echoes, her emotions were wisps when they were once giants.

 

I guess you really are useless… A pitiable baby that can’t do anything right.

 

His words bit at her from where he stood, towering above her. But his words sang a different tune; her tune. In severe moments of depression, that line had been the theme of her agony. But no one had ever used it against her, especially Furion. On the ground, wrestling with realization. A small beat of fire kept an audible hum inside her. Traces of sensation, physical and mental, played to remind her of her experience and of her skill. The Twi’lek worked her way to her feet, falling for a moment at the added weight, and shuffled over to the next room where Rose sat, tears strewn across her face.

 

Cold steel slipped into her numb fingers. She looked on with impassionate discretion. And, without a word, Lallu ignited her blade and cleaved the weeping teenager’s head from her body. Eyes of terror and sorrow looked up at the Twi’lek, but cold crimson is all that looked back.

 

The blade, redder than a Laigrek’s eye, was still glowing. Like the fire in her heart, the aggression in her stance refused to cease. Lallu’s eyes were coal and her soul was fire eternal. She turned to face the man she loved with impassionate eyes. He was the monster she was, looking back at her and slapping her in the face.

 

See, was that so hard?

 

He laughed. It was simple and guttural.

 

Lallu shot forward with speed and disappeared. A moment passed and she reappeared behind Furion, her blade aimed straight at his neck.

 

The specter turned expertly and deflected her blade with a blade of its own.

 

You disappoint me.

Edited by Guest

 

 

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As Sheog began laying out his warning and concerns, Raynuk turned back to face the Hutt if for no other reason than to prove that he was listening. As much as the gluttonous one sometimes vexed and annoyed him, Raynuk was not foolish enough to dismiss what Sheog had to say. Almost immediately his own mind whirled with responses and counter-points to the Hutt, but before he could speak them, Raia’s sudden decision to speak gave him pause.

 

He was only slightly surprised that Raia had found her voice, and could suppress the coy smile that spread across his face as she in no short terms told the Hutt off for implying she was weak and for intruding into her head. He offered Exodus a respected nod as the Dark Lord rose and took his leave, before turning back to Sheog, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

 

“You will find that Raia is not as helpless and slaughter-worthy as you may think. And you speak of doing my all to ensure she is as strong as me? There is strength in knowing that her future does not lie in the path that I have carved for myself, and I will not stifle her natural powers by forcing her to follow a path against the grain of her being. There are things that I can teach her regardless of the path she takes. And it is in that assurance of strength that I, instead of showing her the path of the Warrior, will only trust her advanced training to a Krath like yourself, one who I can make assurances will craft her to be as strong as me, just as you chide. ”

 

He met the Hutt’s giant eyes evenly as an almost dastardly grin spread across his face. “But obviously, a Krath as wise and observant as you already figured that’s why I brought her here, to our glorious temple, so that I could effectively determine whether I will trust her training to you or your ever present friendly rival, Shadowlord.”

The Hutt’s response was cut off by the arrival of Delta, and to Raynuk’s surprise, Qaela and another young girl. Raynuk had turned when they were introduced, but the moment that the name “Ar-Pharazon” was mentioned, his eyes shifted and narrowed at the young girl. There was no malice in the gaze, but merely curiosity before a number of long-lost questions and dominoes fell into place. In the end, he gave another nod of respect towards the new trio. He could feel the barely tempered caution emanating from Qaela, the Nightsister who had given her entire race a bad name to him in years past. But then along came Raia, and Raynuk had understood that Qaela was a very poor stick by which to measure the denizens of Dathomir. Having turned to face them, he now leaned back against the edge of the table.

 

“So wondrous of you all to join us. Delta, I need to have a word or two with you about some questionable actions the Black Sun took recently; over a drink of course.” He began, spreading his arms out as he added the bit about the drink. He had not forgotten about the apparent kidnapping of Emily by Black Sun, but Delta's arrival merely gave him an avenue to inquire about it. But he would not bombard the vigo with questions, or punches, until it was necessary; after all, Delta had not come here to meet with just him. He was here for the Sith as a whole, and that business would take precedence. In the meantime, he turned his attention to Qaela and the child, who were something of a surprise.

 

“Qaela… I was not aware you’d be joining us as well… I do hope we can both be more agreeable this time. Especially in the presence of our... children.” He turned to glance at Raia, subtitling directing Qaela’s attention to her fellow Nightsister without directly putting the spotlight on Raia again. “It seems your… opinions left an impact on my adopted daughter from when you two were guests of Furion."

 

He turned back to address Qaela directly, an odd sort of smile on his face. Would you like to say hello?”

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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The great Hutt watched his old friend, the King of the Warriors turn his words into an offer of training, shortly after the words of his own daughter. He could feel the reservations of the young woman, and her rejection of his voice troubled him. He pulled a large breath of smoke into himself, holding it overly long, letting its spiced ash coat his tongue and the mucous-ridden slobber that coated his maw and gullet. He bound the smoke within him, coating the ashes with the essence of his gluttony, and the wanting hands of avarice. He breathed it out slowly, letting it spin across his hand and staff as he spoke to the Warrior King, unable to contain his mirth

 

<>

 

He breathed in as the shuddering laughter shook his body. His nostrils opened wide to fill his lungs with air.

 

<>

 

The Hutt’s laughter trailed off into a coolness as the smoke continued to weave itself, his eyes catching sight of Delta, and the force signature of Queala. She was wearing the armour he had forged for the clone,

 

<>

 

The Lord of the Krath’s smile returned, and the smoke flowed out from his hand to entwine itself with the armour he had once made as a gift. To the Dathomiri witch, Quela he spoke, kindly, but firmly. In his palm he cradled a single pendent of violet, that ebbed and flowed with the power of the Force. His crimson eyes showed pain and sorrow, the hurt of a father.

 

<>

 

And with those words, the armour that was bound by him, was unbound, the ashes joining the smoke as it flowed, taking its power with it. The metallic fixtures began to rust and fade at an intense rate, beginning to crumble into nothingness. The smoldering storm of ashes formed themselves into the edifice of the a regal man with ashen skin, and hair of long white locks. His eyes were violet and sparkled with reddish flames. It smiled, and the Hutt’s voice came from its mouth

 

<>

 

The man winked, and turned to the girl Raia and bowed deeply, his flowing locks running in rivulets down his shoulders. When he spoke, his voice was deep and raspy, carrying the words in basic.

 

“I shall do my best to help you learn, daughter of Quietus, if your father and more importantly... Yourself, feel up to it."

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Stephen pushed the lever back to bring them out of hyperspace. A rust-colored planet with 7 moons zooms in to fill their viewport. A sizable fleet of starships encircles the planet.

 

"Quick," Stephen said to Lugner, "Say something before we get blasted to pieces!"

 

Lugner keyed the comm for a channel-wide broadcast, "This is Lugner Verlierer, an information broker in the Fortune and Glory. I have some information the Sith Lords might want to know." For good measure he added, "It's regarding a Jedi."

 

He did not get an immediate reply, so he added, "Do we have permission to land?"

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There was a moment of silence between the request from Stephan’s ship, and an acknowledgement from the Sith Fleet. The defensive fleet had been on high alert since the destruction of the Cardian Praxeum, and they were itching for a target. Captain Zen Robash of the Krath Destroyer, Feast of Fate, reviewed the target profile of the ship, along with the man’s request for a landing. He stood in his armour upon the bridge, while the flight officer awaited an answer from the considering man

 

“Sir… If it’s information on the Jedi, our Master will wish to hear it… You never know what will follow such information… And the shipname, at the very least our Master will want to inspect it for fortune, and maybe glory...”

 

The captain stroked his long beard, still dyed purple and pink from the Krath Pride Parade the day before. He absentmindedly brushed glitter from his hands and onto the blackened decking

 

Fortune and Glory, so aptly named, you have permission to land on platform Delta-952. You will be escorted by strikecraft, and will be vaporized if you deviate. Report to the feasting hall, where you will meet the Lord of the Krath.”

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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She could sense Raynuk’s pride in her amid the darkness in the Force that surrounded them and through the echoing whispers that she continued to feel in the back of her mind. As Raynuk addressed Master Sheog, Raia wondered how much she’d get a say in whether or not it was this alien or Draken that trained her in the ways of the Krath. Nervously, her hand closed around the crystal tree that the Count had fashioned for her on Dathomir out of the ash of her homeworld and the mixture of her and Raynuk’s blood.

 

When he’d made it, she wasn’t sure whose blood had been used to give it the brilliant crimson shade it had taken. Having had the chance to spend more time with it, she’d come to feel the echoes of Raynuk within the crystal as much as her own. Almost as though Draken and the Force had known what she was only just beginning to understand. Something Raynuk had seen even before the events on Dathomir.

 

Raia met her father’s eyes at the announcement of the new arrivals, though her expression turned curious at the mention of the name “Ar-Pharazon”, only ever heard him mention it once in passing.

 

She’d given his last name at the Corellian Hospital on instinct and to cement the fact that she belonged with him. However, it seemed that the galactic trend, if Tirzah and the way this Telperion girl was announced was any indication, the adoption of the male family name seemed the norm. It did surprise her that Qaela had not insisted that the girl be introduced as Telperion Darksong. She made a mental note to ask Raynuk about it when they were alone.

 

She did not turn to acknowledge Qaela, Delta, or their daughter, the former two reminding her once more of what had happened not that long ago on Dathomir. She’d been surprised at Delta’s kindness to her as her own mother had failed to speak for her, leading to the Raging River Clan Matron sentencing both Raia and Delta to burn for their alleged crimes against the clan and planet.

 

Raia found she couldn’t help herself when Raynuk brought up Ca’Aran’s affiliation with Black Sun which immediately lead her to think of Emily. Raynuk’s voice brought her attention, back to the present and she offered a slight bow of her head. “I’m glad to see that you made it off Dathomir as well, Ca’Aran,” she said with a clear degree of genuineness before offering a polite, if cool, “Hello again Lady Qaela.”

 

A much as she wanted to be angry at the other woman, it hadn’t been Qaela’s choice that she fight in the melees Furion had orchestrated to test the pool of hopefuls. She’d offered her a position at her side, in fact. It had been the enemies that Qaela had made among the Sith, exemplified by Draken’s attack just as they were attempting to settle in, that had ultimately set Raia toward what she thought had been the safer path.

 

The path that had lead to being branded by Furion. The path that had lead to two solitary years abandoned on a comparably lifeless station far from anything green, growing, and alive. The same path that had lead her to Raynuk through Emily, to a place she was just beginning to feel she really belonged and was cared for.

 

It surprised her to feel her fear and uncertainty fading. She did feel up to learning what Raynuk had to teach her. Sensing her growing comfort, Vex’aedr laid down at her feet, though Roe’gall continued to pace behind her.

 

Even as Sheog used his Force magicks to strip away the armor that Qaela bore to form the husk of a man, Raia’s eyes widened in wonder, not fear or shock. As the shadow man spoke to her, she smiled at the cleverness of the alien Sith Lord.

 

“I cannot learn from both you and Master Draken? You both have your knowledge and experience. Is there not gain from learning from both?” She took a slow breath and looked at Raynuk again. “I want to learn what I can from my father first. I trust him to help me find the right teacher when I am ready, Master Krath.”

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Lugner keyed the comm again, "Understood. Following escort to Platform Delta-952." He set the set the ship follow the strikecraft at a comfortable 200m and headed toward the landing platform.

 

"Who is 'The Lord of the Krath'?" Stephen asked.

 

"No idea," Lugner replied, "but I hope he pays well."

 

As they got closer to the planet, Stephen became quieter and began staring out of the viewport at the planet itself. "Scared?" Lugner asked him.

 

"No," Stephen replied shaking his head and blinking, "but I can feel... something. Almost like--" Stephen chuckled. "This will sound stupid. Almost as if the planet itself was calling out to me."

 

Lugner raised a bushy eyebrow, "This was your first flight out of atmosphere. Better hope you don't have Bloodburn. Sounds like a fever dream."

 

Stephen shook his head. "No, not a fever dream. It almost feels like I could hear a voice if I could just concentrate more. It's hard to explain."

 

Lugner took over manual control again as they neared the platform. "Well, get yourself together. We're about to land."

 

The ship touched down on the platform. They opened the hatch and were greeted by their "welcoming" party.

 

Lugner smiled warmly, raised his hand in the universal gesture of greeting and said, "We're here with information for the Lord of the Krath..."

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A cadre of Sith Troopers mounted the platform Delta-952, and at their lead was a Twi’lek girl of a scarlet complexion. She was dressed in a simple black tunic, and carried nothing but a datapad and a gorgeous smile. She waved to the pair of newcomers, and held out the datapad

 

“Welcome to Korriban, if you would sign in on our database with a scan that would be most wonderful. It’ll take a small droplet of blood in a painless matter. It’s for DNA, obviously, for the following reasons,”

 

She squinted for a moment as if trying to recall a memorized list

 

“If you commit a crime, we will know who has done it. To see if you have any genetic deformities or mutations for study. If there are harmful bits of genetic code, you may not have permission to.. Um… Breed here on Korriban, our Lord is very insistent that we have no one living off what he refers to as… The Welfare State? I’m also supposed to end this with the words, Make Korriban Great Again.”

 

She shrugged nonchalantly, showing off her lithe shoulders through the thin tunic

 

“After this formality is done, we can get you to the Master of The Krath, the Lord of Gluttony, Admiral of Avarice, and other names.”

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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This was all new to Stephen, but he did not want to be killed, so he stepped forward and offered his hand.

 

Lugner, on the other hand, hung back, smiling warmly at the Twi'lek. "A DNA scan seems a little overkill," he chuckled. "I am only here to sell my infromation, not to... breed."

 

"I think he's scared of a little blood," he said with a wink to the Twi'lek female.

 

Lugner hesitantly stepped forward, and offered his own hand for a scan. "It's not the blood I'm worried about..."

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The Twi’lek looked over both scans and smiled warmly, giving them both a copy of the results. It showed a genetic stream of information, past diseases, and family lineage. There wasn’t anything far outside the normalities of a galactic citizen. If there was a medichlorian count, it would be displayed with a marker. If that was the case, both of the pair’s datapads would be beamed with recruiting information and pamphlets detailing career opportunities in the branches of the Sith.

 

“It looks like you’re clear of most everything. You need not worry about selling information to the Sith, we pay quite handsomely. Pay is proportionate to the value of the information, obviously.”

 

There was a comlink chime, and the Twi’lek glanced upwards as if listening to a report.

 

“It would appear my new friends, that Sheog the Mad along with the other members of the Unholy Trinity are currently occupied with protracted Sithly dealings. If you’d follow me, I’ll bring you to our Lord’s right hand at the Careheart Bar.”

 

She motioned them to follow her, to a mostly empty bar, alight with a neon glow. The bar was tended by a young Hutt with mottled white skin, who set a pair of menus down for them all.

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Delta took off his helmet and ran his hand through the short cropped blonde hair, he looked around for the glowing red eyes of the Tuk’atas before safely placing the mandalorian iron helmet on the highest table present. He turned to Montar, “Raynuk, if there is something my company has done, I will gladly answer for it publicly or privately. I will tell you that the Bespin stronghold that you helped me establish by sinking the last one has recently fought off an imperial invasion force and captured an Imperial Cruiser...If this has to do with my shenanigans on Bothawui, it was to restore life to my adopted daughter, who is still suffering from the curse of the nightsisters.” He then remembered that Montar had referred to the young Sith Raia as his child. Sadly, kissing her was definitely off the table this time, and the little gift box that he had in his belt pouch would definitely not help the situation at all. He would have to wade carefully through the pool of bantha doo that was this gathering. So many fragile egos to accidently brush against. At least Draken wasn’t here. He turned to the giant hutt,

 

“Thank you for your hospitality your greatness, I assure you she will not touch this heart of mine.” His ice blue eyes glimmered for a second before her turned to Raia. “It does my heart a kindness to see you here little lady…” He gently pushed Telperiën towards her, “This is my daughter, Telperiën, if I could ask that you look after her while the meeting progresses, I would be most grateful. For You are the kindest soul in this room, and the only one here I would trust with her care should your father and I get into a spat over business dealings.” He highly doubted such a fight would happen, but the young dathomiri looked like she needed something to do. He placed the gift box and another soft pouch into Telperiëns hands and he turned to the room as a whole, “Where is Furion? I expected him, Draken, and Emily at a meeting like this.”

 

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Ca'Aran

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Stephen had no idea what these "midichlorians" were, but he had a link to possible career opportunities. He flagged it with a follow up for later.

 

He sat at the bar, looked over the menu, and noticed the large quantity of Hutt delicacies. At least he was fmiliar enough with Hutt food to know which was inedible for human consumption. He ordered something that was very basic, with a local rum to drink while they waited for this "right hand".

 

He looked over to Lugner, to see him looking over his scan's readout with a frown. "You okay?" Stephen asked.

 

Lugner looked up distractedly, "Huh? Oh. No--I mean, yeah. Just history I'd rather not have to remember. I don't want to talk about it."

 

"Yeah, okay," Stephen said with a sip of his drink. "Any idea what midichlorians are?"

 

"Heh, did you live under a rock?" Lugner replied. "Oh, well, I guess you sort of did. They are supposedly what makes one Force-sensetive. Why?"

 

"Er--no reason," Stephen said offhandedly. "Just saw the term on the readout. I had never seem it before. When I have more time, I'm going to look into my family history. It was lengthy."

 

Lugner gave a puzzled expression, "Really? For a slave? Mine was rather small. A paragraph or two at most."

 

Stephen shrugged, and finished off his drink.

 

Lugner glanced around, "Where is this contact. I'm itching to get off this planet already."

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Telperiën fiddled awkwardly with her white and black braid as she approached the girl her father had called Raia. The hall that they were feasting in was massive and every thing was fascinating. She had a mission, not to embarrass her mother or her father, so she didn’t dare stare at the Hutt and his magical powers. No chanting had been uttered and already she could feel the force whipping and whirling around the hall like the center of a storm. It was exhilarating. She fixed her purple eyes on Raia and gave a dathomiri curtsy, before glancing around the hall again. Her stomach rumbled a bit and she grinned, her mouth mimicking the smirk that had always kept on the lips of the old Sith Lord that was her biological father. She extended a bandaged arm in greeting to the other dathomiri girl smiled shyly.

“Nice to meet you Lady Raia, I have heard a lot about you.” Her voice was throaty and hoarse but shy.

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The pale Hutt leaned over the bar, his yellowed eyes examining the two of them as he scrubbed at an oversized glass with a clean rag. The Twi’lek nodded her goodbyes and disappeared, with a gentle wave to the two offworlders. The second her foot crossed the threshold, the bar seemed to change. The Hutt’s smile widened as the lights began to dim slightly, and pushed a pair of drinks across the table, which were ice cold and sweating.

 

“Might I recommend a Ruby Bliel, in a clean glass…”

 

The Hutt winked at the pair, and straightened up, cracking his sluggish neck. It was abnormal for a Hutt to speak words in basic

 

“My name is Nugget, of the Hutt triplets. I buy and sell information for the Sith, and run this bar. If you’re force sensitive, our Master is always looking for apprentices… ”

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Stephen looked at Nugget, and in Hutteese said, “H'chu apenkee, pateesa. [Hello, friend.]” He continued in basic, “Should've guessed you'd be the contact.” He chuckled, “Bet you get a lot of free intel on people with this façade.”

 

Lugner looked at the Hutt as well, “Guess you've reviewed our scans. Don't hold my family history against me. My grandfather was only the Jedi's brother. He didn't test high enough to be a Jedi. I swear!”

 

The Hutt remained silent, so Lugner continued, “A-anyway. The information we have is of a secret love affair involving a Jedi... and a Sith Acolyte. The Jedi’s name was Kyrie, leader of the Imperial Knights. The Sith’s name was Mandar from the Caridan Temple. He was human, not Caridan. I have holo evidence of them meeting in Level 1313 on Coruscant.” He passed a datacard over to the Hutt. “I’m sure this information will be worth some dispensation.”

 

Stephen sipped his Ruby Bliel, and waited to see if this entire trip was worth it.

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Raynuk was one of the first to greet her in a surprisingly non-hostile manner. She bit back a comment on who tried to kill whom when he mentioned being agreeable. She had her share of hostility toward the man who was the second Sith to try to kill her, but figured it wouldn't be the best time to be snarky. "I come hoping to make peace with all of the Sith so we can better face our common enemies," she answered. Her violet eyes fell on Raia who she now recognized as the girl she helped get out of Nightsister imprisonment and who was also the one causing the Force storm back when she got Ca'Aran out of captivity. "I hope whatever advice I gave her helped her survive in the sometimes treacherous and dangerous Galaxy we live in."

 

She nodded in acceptance at Raia's greetings. "For you, I am simply Qaela. We are from different sides of the same coin, alike in as much as we differ. I have learned much since meeting you last and was impressed at the power of your wrath on Dathomir. If ever you wish help in controlling that so it doesn't over take you as it did me, you need but ask."

 

By this point, she had attracted the attention of one of the Sith she was actually most hoping to see. Though repulsive to the eyes, Sheog the Hutt was quite powerful with Sith magicks, something she definitely wanted to learn. Though, his own reaction to seeing her wasn't what she wanted. In honesty, she was surprised that he even remembered her children, much less was able to display the amount of seemingly genuine pain at the loss of her sons that he was. She was surprised when he elected to deny her use of the armor she was wearing. Without its magic, the armor crumbled and was possessed with a new magic that spoke for him. Without the armor holding it up, her belt and weapons fell to the floor and she was left in only a dark grey bodysuit. His actions immediately stirred indignation from her, so she responded to his accusation with the pain and anger she felt from the situation and loss.

 

"Their lives were in danger where they were. Not from death, but from losing their freedom, their souls, and their command over their own lives. Slavery and submission are worse than death. I admit my choices were not always the wisest and that fear and desperation drove me to do things and make alliances with those I should not have, but the fault is not entirely my own. The Sith whom I sought as my tribe abandoned or sought to kill me me. Only Ca'Aran remained to help me remove them from the clutches of Clan Darksong. Had other Sith as powerful as you been there, they might all be alive now. As it is, at least we saved my daughter so that she has a chance to live strong and of her own design instead of as a mere pawn of those women. It is one more reason why the Sith need to unify and stop the infighting that happened in years past. I can only hope that this gathering allows the Sith to do just that so that we may get our revenge and take our place as the rightful rulers of this Galaxy."

Qaela Sig

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Lallu’s eyes glowed with sharp severity as they both stared deeply at each other. With another strike, carefully aimed at Furion's center of mass, they clashed again, sparks flying in every direction.

 

You had so much potential.

 

The Twi’lek’s face was grim; impassive. Her cheeks had no color, her face was of normal hue and her stance was articulated with grace and finesse. The only point on her that seemed to betray anything were streaks that lined the border of her face, starting at the corners of her crimson eyes. But, Lallu wasn’t crying; Lallu wasn’t laughing, and Lallu wasn’t angry. Her expression was neutral. Her eyes were listless.

 

What? This isn’t like you. Where’s the fire?

 

Lallu’s face was stone, unmoving. But, beneath the surface, her will pulled her along. Existence was pain and all she could bear was resistance. Pain was a tool. Pain guided each blow and fueled her momentum. With the efficacy of professional dancers, both countered each other with ease. With time, Lallu surprised the specter with unexpected counters and added hits. When he turned right, following the pull of his arm, she quickly struck at the opening, causing him to intercept at an awkward angle and opening yet another point for her to strike. Quick blows and even faster dodges emerged as the Twi’lek felt her knowledge of the Ataru form take hold. It was more than the specter bargained for. She gained on her adversary, pushing him further into the temple and shrouding them both in more darkness until all any of them could see were the red of their blades and the sparks they made at every parry.

 

The Specter was losing ground, and it knew it. Even without her power, she countered everything it had. Thus, a new strategy was required; and fast.

 

You think yourself strong. You’re a disgrace.

 

The illusory Furion feigned a wide right turn once more, waiting for the battle drunk Twi’lek to fall for it. When she did, the specter ducked and swung its blade at Lallu’s left leg, slicing it off just below the knee. The wicked smile plastered on its face, illuminated by the red of its blade, was a crude facsimile of Furion’s wolfish expression. The truth was hidden in the shadows. But Lallu couldn’t see that. All she could see was stars. The Twi’lek fell to the ground, grasping at her left knee. The pain was all she had, but it was too much. The white shining sun of brilliant pain that gouged her consciousness almost doomed her to incapacitation. And, when the smoke cleared from her mutilation, the specter stood above her, laughing.

 

I never liked your dancing anyway.

 

All of it hit her hollow mind, pushing deep into every memory she had of him. The dream she had, of dancing on a stage and seeing the sun set on a brilliant summer’s day; the illusion she held of a distant future; the dreary idea that, for one moment, she wouldn’t be a monster. It all faded as pain consumed everything. She fought to remain conscious. One blinking eye would not close, no matter how hard it wanted to. She would keep on fighting. She had to.

 

Do you see now, how useless you are?

 

Something simple called to her. Exodus’ teachings echoed in the darkness. Urik’s words played again, ageless wisdom that would be with her always. And, like a sieve, the worries in her mind carried away. They flowed down the ebbing contours of her mind only to pour out her ear nubs and onto the floor. Her trembling body and short staccato breaths started to even out. All that was left, was a raw searing pain. Pain that was then fed throughout her body and mind. The mental and emotional pain of loss, the physical pain of her leg, and the psychological pain of conflicting identities. It was all power. And it was all she needed.

 

With one mental stroke from her emptied mind, Lallu suffused her body in pain and melded with the shadows around her, suppressing her power and hiding her energy from her illusory prey. The specter, that was about to finish her where she lay, looked slightly befuddled. It tried to strike the ground where she was, but missed, scalding the stone instead.

 

It looked around, frantically trying to get a bead on the lamed Twi’lek. But, even with only one leg, she was silent and fast. In the deep darkness that the temple provided, it was hard for them both to see. But he was holding a light that gave him away. Wasn’t she holding a blade too? It thought.

 

The silence held for a few moments and dragged for a minute. Then, when the specter started to strike blindly at the dark, in the hopes of catching the limping Twi’lek, it stopped dead in its tracks. Keenava reappeared behind the specter and activated her blade in a way that pierced the back of the fake Furion’s throat.

 

It looked furious and scared. It projected a thought into her mind with its waning strength. I-I… why?

 

In the fragile hope that she might be swayed, the specter released the emotional power it held, pushing it back into her empty skull and flooding her with caustic excess. But her will was iron. No one would shake the determination glowing in her crimson eyes. It pled to her, using memories of Furion in one final attempt to try and shake her. But, Keenava looked deep into those gold eyes that for so long had held her deepest loves and desires, and her stony expression didn’t shift; Not. An. Inch...

 

I’ve outgrown you.

 

Furion collapsed to the ground and the vision dissipated. Keenava, exhausted, in pain, and winded as she was, fell to the stone floor beside her deactivated blade.

 

She knew now - too late - that the specter had fooled her, illuminating a very important truth and shining a big light on her face. There was no denying what just happened. And there was no doubting the effects. Now that she could breathe, pain as brilliant as smelted metal broke through every thought process the Twi'lek tried to build.

 

They were gone... all gone; Kana, Kara, and Kava. Echoes resonated in her mind where they used to be. It was, haunting.

 

But, she didn’t need them.

 

As much as the Furion Specter had been a vicious and underhanded creature, it carried several lessons for her to reflect on; lessons that would stay with her for quite some time; lessons that would help her with problems in the future and problems in the present. But, for now, she needed to find a way out of this temple.

 

Grunting and consumed by the pain surging from the still healing scorch mark where her leg once was, Keenava pushed herself to stand and used the pain in her mind to help telekinetically balance her body. It would be slow going, but it was better than sitting in the hole and waiting for a rescue that would never come. As she left, hobbling at half her normal pace, her mind reached out toward where her saber lay and found the specter’s saber resting close by. She snatched both sabers and placed them in her belt. Lacking a holder for the second saber, she placed it in a side pouch and figured that she’d remedy that problem later.

 

For now, she needed a way out.

 

One step at a time.

 

With patient eyes, Keenava eventually found the light that poured from the hole she made in the roof of the temple; the hole made by her force scream and subsequent fall. It was quite a bit higher than she remembered, but nothing easy was ever worth doing. Her leg was tired, the muscles in her right leg fought hard to carry her entire body. But she had dancer’s legs. She may not be as used to standing on one leg as she used to be, but she had more endurance than most. With the pain that still sang like a splitting note deep in her mind, she channeled that screaming energy into the muscles of her leg and pushed from the ground, guiding herself up and out with more telekinetic power. And, it worked... relatively.

 

She made the hole opening alright, but overshot it a little and landed on the sand of the chasm bed with a thud. Her body plopped down and fell hard against the rock. But the pain was just a drop in a very large bucket that already held so much more. Scrapes were hard on her face and her body shook, but she was driven to succeed. She moved her right leg a little and found it limp. So, wasting no time, Keenava used her arms and started to climb up the cliff’s ledge; one rock at a time.

 

A few times Keenava had to catch herself to prevent herself from falling down the cliff once more. But she made it to the top eventually. Patience and determination were a powerful pair. And with them, Keenava felt she could do anything.

 

Now, however, it was time to face her father. It was time to face judgment.

 

 

Keenava Two Suns.png

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Raynuk could not deny the mild amusement he gained from seeing Sheog deny Qaela the armor she had apparently ‘borrowed’ from Delta, causing the clatter of her weapons and belt to the stoney floor. The hutt’s next trick with turning that ash into another shadowy servant that seemed focused on Raia was all but expected, as was the response that Draken’s name elicited from Sheog.

 

“I fear you and Shadowlord are so at odds with one another over who best represents the Krath, that you both suffer for it my friend.” He responded, his gaze examining the ashen construct. “Regardless, as I said before; I intend to thoroughly consider what each of you can offer her. For the moment however, by my estimations you are losing that race.” He added with a mischievous grin.

 

Despite both Sheog and Draken having proven themselves to be staunch allies and friends to Raynuk in the past, he found that he still could not help himself from pitting the two of them against each other, preying upon the indignation that each felt for the other. If nothing else, it was amusing to him. Though if the two ever did come to actual blows and attempt to kill the other, Raynuk would likely step in to stop them. Despite Qaela being more of an outsider than an actual Sith, she was right; the Sith needed to refrain from infighting.

 

He walked over to the ashen construct, noting how it had hair similar to what his own used to be prior to Corellia, and reached up and flicked it in the ear, hard enough that he actually sent bits of ash flying off it as it’s ear disintegrated.

 

“In the end however, despite my own thoughts and opinions, I will leave that choice up to her Sheog.” He continued, still examining the ashen construct, which swatted his hand away as Raynuk reached up to flick it again.

 

Delta’s voice piqued his attention however, as the Black Sun vigo inquired about the whereabouts of notable others who were missing from the gathering. Raynuk turned to the man, studying his face for a moment as he attempted to detect even the slightest hint of deviousness or guilt; which given how devious and guilty Delta normally was, made the task significantly harder.

 

“Funny you should ask Delta... “ He said, beginning to walk towards the man. Along the way he snatched a stein of some foul smelling liquid out from the hands of a servant as he continued. “That’s precisely what I wanted to discuss with you. According to a CoreSec report and witnesses, Emily was attacked and kidnapped by members of the Black Sun, who then decided to turn her ship into scrap before they all fled.”

 

He thrust the mug outwards, practically punching it into Delta’s armored chest, but his eyes remained on the man’s face. “Draken, Alora and I all received communications from CoreSec about it, and, last i heard, they were chasing down the idiots who did it. So… Anything you want to share with us?”

 

There was a defiite edge within his voice, but it was also clear that Raynuk was not directly accusing Delta of being involved. After all, Black Sun was by all accounts falling apart, and Delta was here to attempt to save it under the guidence of the Sith. It would not be a far jump in logic to think it was possible someone got wind of Delta’s idea, and was seeking to undermine any alliance that was formed here.

 

There was a pause as Raynuk stared at Delta, but as the vigo took the stein into his hands, Raynuk turned and walked back towards where he had come from.and leaned against the table once more. “She is also… apparently pregnant. A fact that she had purposely hidden from me last time I spoke with her.”

 

He could feel a few questioning looks from those gathered as his eyes fell to the floor, which he waved away with his hand. “We had a falling out, trust issues and all that. Nevermind that.” He said to no one in particular.

 

“And no one knows where Furion is anymore, āksts hibernates more than a damn bear…”

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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The cavern walls were pinched tight, and the way forward was near impossible to make out. The footpath was a muddle of broken stone, low-hanging overgrowth, and malicious rot. "Your feet tread the path of the Dreamless Sleep". Exodus brushed the fat of a vine soaked in elastic mucous and smiled as the familiar whisper of a voice echoed low from the shrunken aisles of the cave. Transcendence was holstered in his palm, for the Assassin was no fool, caution was always more appropriate than a lack thereof. Dark Side Spirits were the nastiest of kinds and even in the face of the Dark Lord, their malevolence remained. The organic hilt in his hand caught a fever inside of places like this, steeping his entire arm in colorless fumes, hungering to devour whatever threat stood before the notorious pair. “Is that the Demon of Dxun I smell?” A familiar but hoarse voice unscrambled from a vested wraith that appeared before the Dark Lord, unsightly and abruptly as to create terror. The wraith became a beacon of hazy illumination, burning with a singular vicious light.

 

 


  •  
    “It is I, old friend. In the flesh.”
     
    “Wait. What is this… Power you reek of?”
     
    “The War. The Shadow World. They changed me. I have taken up the mantle of the Sith once more, and those that have threatened the existence of our people have been violently reminded to take heed. I have come to correct the broken ways of our ancestors and sharpen the power of the Sith like never before. We must become regimented in order to face those before us and those that have yet to come. Many have answered the call here on Korriban and have yielded to my name, yet there is a lack of discipline that runs rampant in them all.”
     
    “Then what need do you have of me, Malacoda?”
     
    “I have come to return you to the living.”
     
    “..But I am both wanderer of the living, and trespasser of the dead. I tread two vast oceans completely unaware, yet either body of art surrenders itself to my sails.”
     
    “...You are alive?”
     
    “Yes, and no.”
     
    Oblivion! You try my patience.”
     
    “Unfortunately, I do not. My consciousness has been severed and split in a manner that cannot be explained by way of words. Oblivion exists here and there, all at once, and nowhere in the same breath. The Dark Side hungers for the secrets that I know, the secrets that this tongue cannot yet speak. You carry a mantle, and a power that equals the binding of the Trinity. You have become an entity more powerful than one could imagine, and the Dark Side is watching you closely brother. Keep your eyes peeled.”

 

 

The Wraith of Oblivion opened it’s mouth wide, and then wider at that. His maw split open and revealed a toothless and tongueless cavity of complete darkness. The phantom rushed forward with unexpected haste and swallowed Exodus with a vicious bite. The ethereal shade passed through his body whole and then quickly vanished from sight. The nerves under his skin shot alive and screamed through every vein. In a deep and guttural voice, Exodus recited ancient incantations in the language of the Sith once more, the haunting sounds harmonizing through the blackened cave. Exodus thought to stave the pain through practiced discipline, but he knew he needed to feel it, he had to be reminded that he was alive. The Immortal Malacoda felt the sensation ravage his entire outer layer, as if it was set ablaze by an invisible flame, an arcane divinity that could be seen as his tattoos interchangeably filled with an excessive pallet of color. The Dark Lord dropped to to a knee and embraced the fire while he spewed curses in the ancient Sith language. He clenched his teeth proper, and almost to the point of shatter before the experience faded altogether. The room fell pitch black, and the pervasive color drained from his arm. Exodus unnaturally and immediately slowed his breathing cycle, from hysteria to complete harmony. The Assassin had ultimate control of his functioning body and his breathing slowed to a silent halt. A drop of mildew fell from an outcrop, the only sound left. Another drop trickled to the floor, and then another with a slow cadence that echoed throughout the entire cavern space.

 

 

  • “I will find you, Tethyn Valor.”

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The overly large Hutt’s smile broadened, and a stream of drool dribbled it’s way down from the corner of his misshapen maw, tracing the pattern of a multitude of flabby chins. He nodded in acquiescence to Quietus, another stream of smoke coiling its way from his broad-bowled pipe.

 

<>

 

His grubby hand motioned to the grand hall of the temple, indicating all the work he had poured into The Sith over the past uncounted days. His crimson eyes turned to the older of the Dathomiri that stood about him. His hasty judgements had not sat well with the woman. With a hissing tisk of his flabby tongue the ashen construct passed about the woman once more. The ashen man fell about the witch, his flesh boiling into something else entirely. The Hutt’s fingers twitched as if he were knitting, and the Force increased its intensity. The crystalline matrix within his palm shattered with a whispering expiring of spirit. The liquid within it joined into the cloud of boiling vapour that hung about the Witch like a net.

 

<>

 

The boiling vapour crashed to the ground, bound into the form of a supple hide of reptilian origin. Its colour was that of ebony, and held within it the strength of devouring hunger. It would fit the woman far better than bulky armour, as it was knitted from Sithly steel, bound together like a living muscle. The great Hutt turned his sad eyes to the young woman Raia but with his communicative construct gone, he was reluctant to speak for fear of offending her. With a blubbery sigh, he projected his voice in basic only. He despised the language, and his voice carried a much more evil tone when he spoke. There was an undertone of true corruption, and a creeping hunger wound its way into each word

 

“You can train with me, or Shadowlord. I will not pursue you like you are some prize to be won, or a bobble to be put upon a shelf.”

 

The Hutt breathed in a large mouthful of croaking air, while his eyes glanced at the older nightsister's fascination at his work. Perhaps she was interested in training with him as well.

 

“Know if you come into my care, I will NOT leave you to the sorrows of abandonment...”

 

__________________

 

((NPC For Stephen Farstrider)

 

The pale hutt picked up the datachit, admiring it with his yellowed and sallow eyes. With a pudgy fingertip he pressed a series of signals into his datapad. A holoscreen appeared before the pair, and a battlescene was thrown upon them ivory-clad stormtroopers, their armour like sun-bleached bone running through the blown out halls of a temple, and at their head a young woman. She was in her late teens, her lithe body clad in the armour of a stormtrooper, with a cloak of forest green. Her face was scarred heavily, but concealed mostly by a series of ebony braids.

 

Her eyes shone with a white-hot fire that boiled through their natural emerald, as she held a blazing lightsaber of silver before her like a spear. The battle showed her slaughter of the Sith commander, and dozens of troops before the footage became corrupted. The Hutt deactivated the hologram, and looked upon the pair with a look of scrutiny as he placed a large pile of high-denomination credit-chips upon the mahogany bartop.

 

“Kyrie Eleison, the Sword of the Jedi, who crossed blades with our great Dark Lord and survived… You say the she has fallen in love with the one she has sworn to destroy?”

Edited by Guest

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Stephen watched the holo. She was very nice on the eyes. Those piercing green eyes, the curves of her body… He could see why this Sith would fall for her. Lugner’s chuckle broke his concentration on the vid.

 

“Indeed. I saw it live from my holo droid feed. For being such a devout Jedi, she sure does have a… shall we say… fierce side to her. Both on the battlefield… and off.”

 

Stephen didn’t particularly care for the looks the Hutt was giving them. Lugner may not notice the doubt on the Hutt’s face, but Stephen knew Hutts well. He decided to remain silent for the time being. This was Lugner’s information—it was his to sell.

 

Lugner noticed the lack of reply to his comment. “If you don’t believe me—or the holovid—have this Mandar brought in and… questioned. I’m sure he will corroborate my claim…” With an evil grin he added, “…eventually.”

 

Stephen finished his Ruby Bliel, and cleared his throat. When Lugner glanced at him, he subtly inclined his head towards the Hutt, and raised his eyebrows. Lugner got the hint.

 

“So, was this worth the credits or not?” He asked the Hutt. “No offense meant, but I’m not exactly comfortable around Force users.”

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(Click my sigart to view my character profile.)

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The pale Hutt added another few high-denomination chits to the disorderly pile of credits, each chit falling from greasy fingers like an expensive waterfall. He stared at the pair for a moment, mulling the man’s question in his mind. A mischievous smile formed across his mottled face, and his words were serpentine

 

“Thirty-Thousand credits for the information. Even if it proves to be untrue, it will have propaganda value. As for bringing him in…”

 

The Hutt poured them both a second round of Ruby Bliels, and added a slice of muja to each glass. He brought out a velvet bag from his side-pouch and produced from it a golden chit, which sparkled in the dim lighting

 

“One-Hundred Thousand Credits to bring in this acolyte you speak of. And if you catch the two of them, five million credits for her brought here, alive or dead.”

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Rather than lashing out at her for her defiance, it seemed at least some of the Sith might even agree with her call to end the foolish infighting. At the very least, nobody had tried to kill her and that was good.

 

After addressing Raynuk, Sheog turned his attention back to her. To her surprise and absolute fascination, the ashes of her former armor began to swirl and fashion themselves around her. Despite her initial alarm, there seemed to be no hostile intent from the Hutt, so she absorbed herself in seeing and sensing the usage of the Force that was at work. She knew enough of the occultic side of the Sith to know it was Krath work at its finest. Having grown up around spellcraft, she was quite familiar with how it felt and looked and this, though clearly different, wasn't completely alien to her. The remolding of the ash into a new material didn't seem to far different from how she could enchant and enhance seemingly soft materials like wood to be able to resist even a lightsaber or blaster bolt. Changing the matter in a way was extremely fascinating to her, something she knew those of her former Clan would have killed to know and wield.

 

Apparently sensing her interest, the Krath generously extended an invitation to learn of his skills. She wasn't naive enough to not realize there was more going on here. He and Raynuk seemed to be bantering over Shadowlord, a rival Krath, and aligning herself with either would likely both boost that one's prestige and earn the ire of the other. She had absolutely no love for Shadowlord who had already enslaved her kind and made his hatred of her clear in their past meetings. Siding with the Hutt wouldn't change that at all and would gain an ally. Learning any skills would be quite useful at ensuring survival, as would making even more allies.

 

"I initially came to the Sith as a friend," she replied, making sure to direct her words also at Raynuk. "I did what I could to help the Sith, namely betraying and leading Jedi Grandmaster Kitt to his death. My reward was an attempt on my life, and that wasn't the first time the Sith betrayed me and tried to kill me. I was driven away from the Sith by the Sith themselves trying to kill me and was forced to make unwanted alliances to survive. Some of my choices were very poor, I know, and I have corrected many flaws in my own self.

 

"I came here hoping to make peace with the Sith. My old Clan betrayed me and were destroyed because of it. None survive to my knowledge. I want no strife with the Sith or with you, Lord Quietus. I come here seeking a new Clan: the Sith. The question I have is: will the Sith accept me, or will I once again fight for my life against those with whom I should be allies?"

Qaela Sig

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The red sand, mirthless in its winding flow, coursed across the skin of Keenava’s face. The breaking chill of the evening wind tickled the ends of her lekku and cooled the slop of human remains that stained her armor. The nub of her leg - cauterized the moment that the saber severed her foot from her body – throbbed with a dull ache as she pushed herself along with a phantom telekinetic prosthesis. Hard beads of sweat built all over her body as the exertion taxed every muscle in her physical and metaphysical form. But she kept on for a mile or so, tracing her steps and following the subtle tone of her Master’s energy. When the path led to an old tomb on the outskirts of the Praxeum’s influence, Keenava settled onto a stone outside the stairway to the entrance.

 

She bowed her head in respect to the dead Master’s tomb and did not enter for she felt it would be rude and disrespectful to encroach on her Master’s activities and the peaceful rest of the dead. Which, in the end, would only expound upon her previous misdeeds.

 

Wincing slightly, she crossed her legs together on the cold chunk of sandstone and sat looking forward, not focusing on anything. Instead, she dipped into her mind, feeling the emptiness that dwelt there. The caverns of her consciousness were strangely silent, filled with little but the stirrings of Keenava’s idle thoughts. The silence hung like an oppressive fog. And, as Keenava tried to pry her way through the thick malaise, she realized that they were truly gone. But in the end, it didn’t matter.

 

She didn’t need them. They were her, the whole time.

 

The ferocity, the allure, the tactics. All of it was her.

 

They were a source of justification to use against herself. Insisting that they were responsible for her power was enough to imply that she needed them. But alone and fragile, Keenava proved that it was all a lie. She made herself strong and was carved by the experiences she’d had. It was her path to take and her strength to build. That was what she took from the dark of that tomb, as well as many other things. She would work to become stronger. Her leg was a reminder of failure even in success. Therefore, Keenava relished the pain. It was a lesson.

 

And, like all lessons, you could learn from them or come to regret when you fail to learn from them.

 

That was why she was here.

 

That was why she waited, listening and watching.

 

 

Keenava Two Suns.png

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Lord Exodus stepped out slow from the hollow cove. His was a measured pace; a man who knew what stood before him without having to set his eyes upon it. "..Keenava." From his neck to his unclothed chest, a veneer of dust covered him. Exodus idly brushed himself off and ran the same hand deep through his thick mane, rustling the soot loose. The light of the sky caught the twinkle of a jeweled ring worn on his finger as he combed through his reddish-black strands, one that was not there before he had entered. A deep sigh left him just then, impossible to tell if it were frustration or another emotion that riddled him. The Spider walked adjacent to where she stood, sizing her up from the corner of his eye. She was one limb less than when he had looked upon her last, perhaps she could do for two. Exodus mused and moved closer to her, as a hunter would obsess over prey, close enough to breathe in her nauseating stench. He paused just before his chest would touch her shoulder, overshadowing her by sheer height and size alone, staring down at the side of her little head without the faintest sign of what was in his own.

 

 

 

  • "Little Twi'lek. You have.. disappointed me.."

Every letter dripped off of his tongue like rancid venom, spoken slow as he leaned into her ear to whisper the words.

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… I know

 

Her face betrayed little but the slightest tinge of regret. Deep inside her mind, there was little difference. What she’d done was stupid. She regretted it, but there was nothing to gain from dwelling on it. There was nothing to gain from rehashing it or trying to assert one side or the other. Her deeds were inexcusable, and thus Exodus needed to do what he had to to reassert his dominance. Whatever that was, Keenava accepted it. Tears would do nothing; although, she didn’t feel sad. Resigned would be a better word, but she wasn’t wholly at peace with her death either. Still, she knew that she owed him much and that her actions were crude, disrespectful and not becoming of anyone that would stand at his side. It took a great deal for her to understand her worth. Once she did, she knew that lashing out was her own way of feeling secure in her insecurities and defending them as if they helped her somehow. When all they did was get her into trouble.

 

With an idle hand, Keenava reached for the hilts of both blades she held at her hip and set them to the side, opening both palms to him. Lacking the space to adequately prostrate, she simply opened her palms and looked up at him. Her face was stolid, and her expression reflecting the weariness in her body.

 

Do what you must

 

 

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His face did not bleed the tiniest shred of emotion. Stone Gargoyle in his nest, gazing down the spine of his natural kill. Exodus lifted his cold hand and rested it on the forehead of his apprentice. As the point of convergence was met, as his flesh balanced on hers, the Dark Lord descended into her mind. It was a flawless migration, the Connoisseur of the Abstract unfastened and opened up her thoughts to read them as he would ink in a book. She would feel nothing, but he would masterfully learn what he needed to see, digesting her experiences as his own. In less than half a minute, he released and let his arm fall to his side once more. The drink of her consciousness confessed more than what he had expected, but did little to correct how he felt about her actions. He had become an unequaled evil that held fast to the principles that he lived by, principles that would one day shake this cripple to her core. But for now, she was useless to him, and the point was moot to make.

 

  • "Come." He never voiced the word, but she could hear it.

 

Exodus stepped in front of the Twi'lek, lowered himself to one knee while he pulled her arm as well as half of her body across his back, then lifted. There was no resistance from his tendons, for his brawn was tremendous enough to bury the thickest of warriors under it. She was an easy heave at roughly one hundred and fifty pounds, but he would still keep her braced with both of his arms lifted, pinning her crippled body from his left shoulder to the right. Exodus made forward without care for how she would react, treading through the sands, devoid of a single word to be said between the two of them. He would lead her through the pastures of the sacred land, and the small wounds on his hard skin from his excursion would tear a little more under the uneven pressure. If she resisted, he would dump her at his feet and sink his carnivorous blade through her throat. If she spoke, he would breach the walls of her skull with such force that her eyes would blow from their sockets. There was no further patience for her impedance, but still, he carried her to her rebirth as he did once before. Just as he had once done for Furion all the same.

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Lugner’s face paled as Stephen’s turned into a shocked expression.

 

Stephen whistled, “Five million?!”

 

Lugner glanced nervously at Stephen then to Nugget, “I-I-I’m not a bounty hunter. I just sell the i-i-information!” He looked downright scared now, “They would kill me! I’m no fighter, much less a Force-user.”

 

Stephen put his arm around his fellow’s shoulders, and smiled warmly to the Hutt. “Please allow us to confer in private for a moment.”

 

At the Hutt’s dismissive wave, Stephen practically had to carry the stunned Lugner to a corner. “Lugner, what’s your problem? We’re talking about five million credits. Millions!”

 

Lugner looked at Stephen as if he were insane, “Stephen, it’s suicide, and that devious Hutt knows it. No way we could bring her in alive… or dead! Hell, we couldn’t even bring in the Sith for the hundred-thousand.”

 

Stephen began to protest, “Oh, come on—“

 

“No!” Lugner said. “I’m taking the thirty-thousand. I’ll be generous, and give you ten-thousand of it if you leave with me now. I’m saving your life. Please.”

 

Stephen had never had ten-thousand credits in his life. But the potential for five-million credits was just too good to pass up. “I can’t pass on this offer, Lugner. Please reconsider.”

 

Lugner’s head dropped, and he looked back up at Stephen with sadness in his eyes. “No, I can’t. I’d wish you good luck, but there’s no point—you’ll be dead before a standard week goes by.” He clapped Stephen’s shoulders with his hands, “Goodbye, my friend.”

 

Lugner then walked over to the Hutt, pulled three ten-thousand chits over to him, and held them up between himself and the Hutt. “Thirty-thousand for the info as agreed.” He turned, and began walking back to leave, sparing only one last nod to his former partner.

 

Stephen watched him depart, then turned back to a smiling Hutt. “I’m in. But unless I’m mistaken, he is taking the Fortune & Glory. I’ll need an advance to purchase a ship—a fast ship.”

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(Click my sigart to view my character profile.)

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As the exchange between Master Sheog and Raynuk regarding her future tutelage came to a close, along with the unexpected offer from Qaela as well. “Thank you, both. I will keep your offers in mind when I’m ready to learn what I might from each of you.”

 

She wasn’t yet certain what that future might look like, but, if she allowed herself to be open to it, there was something to be said that she now had at least five willing teachers to learn from, including Emily. In those assurances, there was a measure of relief that flowed through her as Raynuk began to question Delta about Black Sun’s apparent involvement in the disappearance of Emily.

 

Raia looked toward Delta in the hopes that he might know or have some insight as to what might have happened to Emily. Instead, Delta surprised her by asking her to look after the young girl at his side.

 

Looking at the girl for a moment, Raia studied her quietly in her own way through her Force instincts and Witch training. The girl was suffering, that much was apparent to her highly-trained and innate healer sensibilities. She nodded to Delta and moved around Vex’aedr so that he was no longer between the girl and herself. “I will watch over her as you did for me on Dathomir,” she promised, gently taking the girl’s hand as the latter reached forward to give Vex a pat.

“Don’t let these two fool you, they are more dangerous than a Rancor, and twice as mean if they don’t know you. Vex’aedr and Roe’gall are guardians, not pets.” The two tuk’atas rose and dutifully followed behind the two girls. “And just ‘Raia’ is fine, Telperien,” she answered in Dathomri. “I have not yet earned any title of importance among the Sith and I’m not sure I’d insist on it even if I had. Don’t mind the tuk’atas,” she indicated the two large beasts that now sat flanking the girls, “they’re only doing what my father told them to do.” Looking back at Delta, she wondered what he’d told the girl of her.

 

As Raia took her seat, Telperien’s pain was evident to her in a clarity she’d never before experienced. Even on Dathomir, she hadn’t had much experience dealing with curses brought on by the Nightsisters, but a large part of her found she could not ignore the disease apparent in the child. Her only crime against the Nightsisters was being born to Qaela and them not being allowed to mold her to their will and purpose, she realized.

 

Taking the girl’s hand again she met her violet eyes and asked, “Do you trust me, Talperien?”

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Delta winced and grabbed the cup as it was slammed into his chest, a few rancid drops dripping onto his red cape and black armour. The accusation shocked him for a second and his mind worked feverishly to come up with some excuse before he dragged his datapad off his belt and with a few button presses and a DNA sample, passed logged reports of every black sun dealing in the last month to the Sith Lord. They were itemized and outlined by date. He glared for a moment, “You should really back that up before you accuse me or my company of something like that, especially since according to the Holonet, she likely ended up in imperial hands. My company would never give something as valuable as a Sith to the Imperials. You know I have killed plenty of sith back in the day-” He gestured to the saber of Darth Lucifer on his belt, “but I wouldn’t harm Emily, I wouldn’t want to defeat her a third time. That would just be embarrassing. ” He grinned and tossed the still full goblet behind his shoulder where it spattered on the ground, causing a serving girl to slip and fall with a crash. Taking with her most of the drinks offered, and destroying at least a million credits of decanted Alderaanian wine.

 

He slapped the sith lord on the shoulder as he walked with him his voice a stage whisper. “And you really have to stop sleeping with every pretty woman in this galaxy, you must leave some for the rest of us, before you know it you will have told me you slept with Jaina Jade Skywalker too!” Not that Delta was in anyway prejudiced to that. “As I told the coresec agent that called me, I will do whatever is in my power to help her out, and save your kid along with it. Now look through that datapad for yourself and tell me if she was taken by my company.”

 

He looked over to Raia and Telperien and was glad to see that they were in close company and not fighting it out like all the sith here seemed to be wanting to be. A sudden jolt of fear ran up his spine. Hopefully Telperien would not tell the girl everything she knew...

Edited by Guest

 

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Ca'Aran

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