Jump to content

Korriban


Exodus

Recommended Posts

She listened as he confirmed the general understanding of the dichotomy of Force philosophy. His soliloquy confirmed her decision, as loathing at the word 'passivity' coiled in her gut. He then posed two queries to her. "Certainly my family's rule is of the former variety," she said with a hollow chuckle. "Those who rose up against us claimed to want democracy and peace and justice...what they really wanted was chaos, though they couldn't see it." Her tone was dismissive. "In my experience, it is the natural order for the weak to submit to the strong. The Kalahari dynasty has brought prosperity and security to our world. The people are fools to want to trade that for ephemeral ideals."

 

She hesitated and glanced away briefly before bringing her gaze back to Amadeus' face. "As for how I discovered my sensitivity to the currents of the Force, I'd prefer not to say. Suffice it to say that the discovery was not unwelcome, though the situation in which the knowledge was revealed was...decidedly less so." 

aziza.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The moment seized. The way the last of her words commanded the imagination to work, to assume what it was that could have drawn her powers to the fore. The possibilities were endless, unkind, and surreal. Hyperion chose the silence, allowing her sentiments to breathe through the conference room uninterrupted. Reflection was a powerful tool, one that could uproot and summon the very raw emotions that had erupted once before. There were those that could temper such emotion, invoking the pain of the past, to empower themselves in the heat of any moment. Such crudeness was fuel for the embattled warriors of the Sith, but even the assassins understood the measure that these passions could inflict. Hyperion considered the strange metal alloy that covered the lengths of his arms, piercing the metal compound with his wintry eyes, knowing the deep scars that marked his struggles. 

 

"Aziza," Hyperion called to her lightly.

 

The fury-class drilled into the atmosphere hard, trembling under the mounting weight of thermal fever and gravity. Unease heaved through the belly of the interceptor, some creatures inside more accustomed to the transformation than others. Something was different though. Hyperion whispered several words, all of which went unseen unless one paid careful attention to how his mouth moved, and even then his words remained unclear. Emergency foghorns clamored nearly loud enough to harm the soft tissue of the eardrums, red lights searched and searched in warning, both washing the conference room in a panic. Several of the crew-members looked impossibly confused, looking back and forth to one another in their strange masks, then looking to the calmness of Hyperion as if there lie the answers they sought. "Sir, the—"

 

 

"I will show you the ways of the Sith."

 

 

AN EXPLOSION JARRED THE VESSEL, AND THEN ANOTHER, LURCHING ALL PASSENGERS DANGEROUSLY IN THEIR SEATS. SENSE OF DIRECTION BECAME UNTHINKABLE, AND THE SOUND OF SHOCK AND DISTRESS CONSUMED THE INTERCEPTOR. 

 

Anxiety conquered the moment, while crew-members jerked so violently that their bones began to displace inside their limbs. Vomit covered the man closest to the entryway as a maintenance droid launched across the room and mushroomed into the holo-table, distorting the imagery. Hyperion just watched, somehow less movable than the others, while a hand out-stretched towards Aziza, seemingly keeping her in place. The craft was descending at a rapid pace, and the whining of the wind against the infrastructure grew nosier by the breath. They were falling from the skies, and would no doubt find themselves as a stain against the desert wasteland. Hyperion smiled.

 

 

 

VidRqOj.jpg

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Startled alarm coursed through her as the klaxons began to blare. The ship dissolved into a scene of panic, but for Aziza, it was like being in the eye of a hurricane. Amadeus' arm was outstretched, and she felt immovable despite the frantic pitching of the deckplates beneath them. His offer, spoken calmly and quietly yet nevertheless audibly, drew her gaze to his face, and the fear and surprise dimmed for a moment. There was no fear in his eyes, no surprise or shock or worry. Only calm, and simmering power, and a smile on his face. He was either insane or utterly in control of the situation.

 

It was as if the world slowed, the klaxons faded, and the panic couldn't breach the bubble of absolute certainty wherein the two of them stood. And in that instant, Aziza made her choice. Deliberately, she lowered herself to one knee, her eyes locked on his, striving to stay calm, choosing to trust him in the midst of the chaos. "I pledge myself to your teachings....Master."

aziza.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Just then, the ship upended. The vicious force of an untimely impact broke the powerful frame of the Beaumaris. Soft bones, and softer tissues split apart in a number of passengers, while the skeleton of their transport cracked open. The craft heaved with momentum over the rolling hills of sand, ricocheting harshly with terrifying speed. The heated metal of the vessel ruptured, windowpanes exploded, and any possible light source had become resoundingly black in an instant. There was a monstrous roaring of winds and storms as the interceptor skidded to a scratching halt, the savage sucking of turbulence and chaos tunneled through the broken ship, echoing loud enough to try to wake the unconscious. The concussive crash did more than a number on the passengers; outright killing many with a blunt enough impact that crippled men and women into a maimed death. Those that survived would wake soon to lick their wounds, and count their blessings.

 

Outside of the wreck the hour was on eventide, with the shine of the stars eclipsed by a thundering sandstorm. For all anyone knew, the dark expanse crawled on for miles and miles with nothing but the cool chill of deep sand beneath their feet, churning and spitting in typhoons without end. There was no peace. They had fell apart into the remoteness of an unforgiving Korriban, an enraged and resentful planet of red hate. Hyperion hung unresponsively from where he was strapped in, blood dripping thickly from his nostrils while his white hair sagged inches from his face. His heart beat strong, but could the same be said for the rest of those within the Beaumaris?

 

Which of them endured?

 

 

VidRqOj.jpg

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Roshan:
No sooner had he killed the monster he was fighting, when the true threat revealed itself. He could hear a female voice as her enchantments echoed off the cavernous walls. It was not any dialect he was familiar with. But within the blink of an eye the woman managed to surprise and quickly down one of the grotesque creatures. 

"Aliss, zeuritou nouliqo xo xo!" Roshan bellowed in Echani.


Roshan's lightsaber remained drawn as he turned his focus to the new arrival. He stood at attention, ready to strike if necessary. Her arrival concerned him greatly as she seemed much more powerful than their group. If this was a test, it was not going to be an easy one. But if she was some sort of Force ghost, she definitely had quite the solid look to her.

 

“Lord Roshan…”

 

“Lord Roshan, was that a test? A test of combat? If so, then I believe we passed. But who was that? Who was that being that helped us?”

 

Roshan turned to Solus, the worry in his eyes reflected by the glow of his red lightsaber.

"I do not know. I have not quite ran into a holocron quite like this one before. But she may be part of the test. I'd suggest you fall back to me. It will be hard for her to manifest behind us if we are against a solid wall."

 

*** *** ***

 

Aliss:

It had taken Aliss a moment to gain her bearings. As it turned out, it was not the "holy crom" that had given her any special powers. Rather, a snarling, slobbery beast that had formed right above her and flung Solus off of her. Aliss froze for a moment as she first eyed the holocron beside her. Then the monster above her. It seemed to be watching its "brothers" engage the other two. But as her hands crept towards the device, the monster paused for a second before sniffing and dropping its eyes in Aliss' direction. Her own eyes grew wide as she swiped the holocron and rolled!

The ground shook a little as the creature narrowly missed her and connected with the rock floor. Aliss hurried to her feet and pocketed the holocron just before she took a massive swipe across her body. Launched through the air, Aliss sailed several feet behind colliding with a stone wall and collapsing to the ground. She was a little dizzy and her body hurt all over. She tried to catch her breath. She could hear the roar and screams of the monsters in the distance.

Get up, Aliss. Get up! It's coming! Get up!

She struggled to move. The cool touch of the ground felt unusually comfortable in that moment.

Maybe I should lie here for just a few more...


"Aliss, zeuritou nouliqo xo xo!"

The irritated and forceful nature of Lord Roshan's command triggered a sense of fear and adrenaline that snapped her out of her delusion.  Looking up, she could see the glow of Roshan's lightsaber and almost instinctively scrambled towards it, ignoring the throbbing pain she felt along the backside of her body. Moving beside him, she reached for her lightsaber but Roshan's hand motioned for her to hold her position and wait for order. She knew the drill. She was ready to strike if called upon. But as he engaged with Solus, she was almost certain of it. Her lord was cautiously curious about whoever this "she" he spoke of was. Aliss looked around puzzled, trying to find the mystery female in amongst the shadowy and uneven mixture of glowing words and pockets of dense blackness.
___
image.png & image.png

Edited by Durose Roshan
  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Just as quick as the mist had rolled in, did it roll out, its white haze separating from the blackened plume. And like the mist, the four bodies disappaited back into the plume from which they had came, the crimson letters disappearing and the blackened plume returning to its pyramidal prison within the girl's pocket, leaving the darkened chamber empty and silent. Slowly the shadows before them moved and parted, revealing the blue eyes of Lady Sirena as she stepped into view with a cackle and bravado applause for the trio.

 

"My, my, my....The Crystalline did as expected." She spoke with a coyful pride as she eyed Solus before turning to Roshan and Aliss. "Haven't you heard the saying about curiosity, my dear Kitten?"

 

Sirena was of short stature, but was seductively beautiful, even for those of the same sex. Her raven hair flowed in the breeze apart from the proportioned locks that sat tightly to the sides of her head and the makeup adorning her face fluttered in the light as she stepped forward clearly, her walk almost floating across the stoned floor. Her hand reached down and grabbed her laced gown as she dipped her head in an elegant bow before her gaze rose to face all three.

 

"Forgive my manners. I am Lady Sirena." She spoke adequately, her tone soft and playful. "As for as the Holocron, the test was to resist, not touch it. But Master Helios was never one for all the details and preferred his students to play with fire." 

 

Sirena briefly glanced down at her prosthetic arm before glancing back up to the trio. With a grin, she finished. "And don't worry. I'm not part of it, that is, unless you want to get burnt." Chuckling, she was curious to see how they would react.

75196401_876440456210803_2971411180634366772_n.png.7d1045ce91932a34f1faf6a1d547ae87.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Solus nodded and obeyed Roshan’s order without question, coiling against the wall Roshan was near. 

 

"That is wise Lord. Very wise. I must admit, I am not as wise in combat as you are Lord. All I seem to be good at is pummeling. Perhaps my wisdom will eventually grow observing you." 

 

When the being showed herself again, mentioned how Solus had done as expected and eyed him, Solus couldn’t help but feel a smidge of pride form inside of him. This being, while new and strange to him, had in a way complimented him. And that felt good. 

 

Even as she turned and spoke to his master and introduced herself, Solus found himself studying her. She was much different from Sir Aliss, though being of the same gender. Her stature and form was entirely different. Where Aliss carried herself like a snake with a purpose, this being carried herself more delicately. Her skin appeared more smoother then Aliss, as well as a much different color. But the two were both fairly hairless on first glance, and had two arms and legs. Still, this being was a different species compared to the others in the room.

 

"Forgive my manners. I am Lady Sirena. As for the Holocron, the test was to resist, not touch it. But Master Helios was never one for all the details and preferred his students to play with fire." 

 

Solus nearly mentioned to Aliss about how she was wrong to touch the so-called ‘Holocron’, but he silenced himself before that. That would be a foolish move on his part, would it not? Aliss was a child of Roshan. It did no good to berate her. She was probably smart enough to realize her error. If not, then Roshan was in the clear position to point out her error, not Solus.  

 

When Sirena mentioned how she wasn’t part of the test, Solus visibly became a bit more open. His body slouched slightly, his arms lowered out of a defensive pose. 

 

“That certainly makes me happy to hear...Lady Sirena.” Solus cherished the title Lady as his synthesised voice uttered it slowly. It sounded so much different from Sir and Lord and Darth. 

 

“This here is Lord Roshan. We are his children. Sir Aliss…” Solus realized how Aliss was still on the floor. He slithered over and bent down to offer her a now clean hand to rise. Solus was almost disappointed that he didn’t get a chance to study the blood and brain matter from the battle.

 

“So sorry about that Sir Aliss. Let me help you. And I am Solus, Lady Sirena. Solus the Ascended. And he is Tear..." Once done with Aliss, Solus pointed to his currently unconscious hound. 

 

"If you, Lady Sirena, are not part of the test, then why are you here? Are you a person who uses what Darth Helios calls ‘the wicked flame’? Surely you are some sort of deity, for that energy that crackled from your fingertips was godlike.”  

Edited by Solus
  • Like 1

solus.png.1650ac06c988997ee4153ec4d899dbe1.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The calm shattered as the eye of the hurricane passed and they were hit with the full brunt of the metaphorical winds. Chaos and pain and instinctual fear took over in a jumbled blur as the ship hit the ground of the red planet in a massive collision. She saw bodies flying, heard cries of anguish, and felt a sharp pain, and then the world went black. 

 

--

 

Where am I?

 

Consciousness clawed through the darkness of her mind, fighting to win against the body's natural responses. Groggy, she tried to figure out the answer to that question. It was dark, and she couldn't see anything. The smell of iron and dust filled her nostrils. It was oddly hot, although she couldn't remember why that was odd. 

 

Suddenly she realized that it was dark because her eyes were closed. She promptly opened them, and then blinked furiously as ash and dust and sand blew in. Once her vision was clear, she stared at the post-apocalyptic scene around her. Blackened and scorched metal pieces lay everywhere. The sky was the color of rust, choked with haze through which pale sunlight filtered. The scene disturbed her, but she wasn't sure why. It was a strange place to wake up in, that was for sure. She blinked again, and decided to get up. 

 

The instant she moved, agony shot through her. It was as if the pain had only been waiting for her to acknowledge it, and it brought with it a sharper clarity. There had been a crash. She was on Korriban. And she was definitely injured. Her head was throbbing. Her right side was trapped under a large sheet of durasteel, probably from the ship's outer hull, though it was impossible to tell for sure. She still wasn't completely sure what had happened, but now that she was more alert, she knew she needed to focus on getting out of this alive. 

 

Summoning her strength, she tried to push against the metal holding her down and almost screamed with pain. Rather not try that again, she thought, panting heavily. Think. How are you going to get out of this? Nothing came to mind, and she cursed the lingering fogginess. There is always a solution. Think, Aziza, think.

 

But there was nothing. The longer she lay there, the more certain she was. The piece of metal holding her down was massive, more than she could lift or move. Her only hope was that someone else had survived the crash and would come looking for her before she died of exposure, starvation, blood loss, or wild animals. 

 

 

Ir vēl viens veids.

 

She almost jumped. There was a voice on the breeze. Or had she imagined it?

 

Jums nav jāmirst. Spēks tevi gaida. Vienkārši aizsniedzieties un izmantojiet to.

 

The language was foreign, but she almost understood the meaning somehow. Like the sound of a far-off symphony, she could catch a few notes here and there. And if the voice was right...

 

She let her head flop back and rest on the ground. Closing her eyes again, she gathered herself, placing her hand against the metal again. 

 

 

Lietojiet sāpes.

 

Not fully understanding what she was doing, she gritted her teeth and pushed. Metal creaked and pain exploded through her, but she refused to quit. She would get out of this. She wasn't going to die here; not now, not like this. She was going to live, kriff it, no matter what the cost. Her muscles trembled, and her vision flickered with dark spots...but suddenly, it was as if a floodgate had opened. Strength coursed through her as her eyes turned solid white. With a blast, the hull piece flew off her, landing in a cloud of dust. 

 

As soon as it had come, the strength vanished, leaving her feeling drained and empty and cold--and with the sudden inescapable knowledge that now, everything had changed. 

 

Caur aizraušanos jūs iegūstat spēku, the voice whispered, and then dissipated completely. 

aziza.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

With his lightsaber still on and the room dimming as the excitement waned, the woman came more into view. She was pretty for a human. The type of beauty that was more worthy of a prized mistress of a harem than a Mandalorian Princess. But he had known enough Sith females in the past to know better than to underestimate them based on their looks. That was especially true of this one. The way she moved reeked of danger in the way that a sweet smelling poison might be passed off as a perfume until your body lie twitching on the floor.

"...Haven't you heard the saying about curiosity, my dear Kitten?"

Roshan gave her a hard roll of his eyes from underneath his mask. Humans always thought they were so clever, as if they were the first one to come up with such a silly expression or as if he hadn't heard it from literally hundreds of humans. Cathar weren't even cats. It was like telling a monkey joke to a human and snickering. Roshan smiled back at her from underneath his mask.

"Well aren't you a cheeky monkey."

 

"Forgive my manners. I am Lady Sirena. As far as the Holocron, the test was to resist, not touch it. But Master Helios was never one for all the details and preferred his students to play with fire. And don't worry. I'm not part of it, that is, unless you want to get burnt." 

 

Roshan looked knowingly down towards Aliss. She was still beside him but had slumped to one knee and was using her free arm to hold herself up as she leaned forward to catch her breath. That blow from the beast had clearly hurt her fragile humanoid body.

 

"I figured as much. But you'll have to forgive the girl's opprobrium. You know humans. Always monkeying around. She couldn't help herself," he shrugged, speaking in a tone that danced the line between playful and mocking.

 

“That certainly makes me happy to hear...Lady Sirena. This here is Lord Roshan..."

 

Roshan waved casually at the mention.

"We are his children. Sir Aliss… So sorry about that Sir Aliss. Let me help you..."

Aliss pulled away from the shardbot, keeping her head down half out of the embarrassment of being chided and mocked by everyone present and half because she was still angry at the abomination for violently subduing her only moments earlier.

"Leave me alone," she replied sharply. "I'm fine, Soulless."

"And I am Solus, Lady Sirena. Solus the Ascended. And he is Tear..."

 

"If you, Lady Sirena, are not part of the test, then why are you here? Are you a person who uses what Darth Helios calls ‘the wicked flame’? Surely you are some sort of deity, for that energy that crackled from your fingertips was godlike.”  

Roshan sighed. He had taught Solus a bad habit. It was endearing to have Solus think of Lord Roshan as a deity. Perhaps even an appropriate assessment under the circumstances of its ascension. What's more, the evident deity of Lord Roshan had been the basis of his Knights and his Ishvaran cult. But that cult had been made up of ordinary humans and aliens that rarely ran into other Force Users or had people around to teach them how to use the Force. They were primitives easily impressed and easily subdued. Comparing himself to a god or demi-god was simply a force of habit. But now that they were in the midst of a camp of Force sensitive beings, it was like bringing a cave dwelling humanoid to visit some sort of heavenly pantheon.  They were now inevitably bound to stop every two minutes for him to fawn over this deity and that deity and gush over this power and that power and this parlor trick and that parlor trick. She had done nothing to warrant such attention. She can mist around. So fancy. Such a great ability if no one graps a hand-held fan and blows her away. Roshan rolled his eyes.

"Yes. Excuse its ramblings. But Soulless does bring up a very good point. If you are what and who you say you are, why are you here? I have my doubts that Darth Helios simply asked you to stop on by out of the kindness of your heart to drop us by some blue milk and cookies."
 

____
image.png&image.png

Edited by Durose Roshan
  • Haha 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sirena chuckled coyfully at Solus, so innocent and refreshing, like a small mouse. Her gaze then turned toward the child's 'father', her hand snaking into the small satchel and producing a small baked disc with what appeared to be small chunks of darkened sugar based creme. With a sarcastic chuckled, she took a bite, wiping her lips after with her small pinky finger before she spoke. "But they're so delicious."

 

"But you're right." She spoke, tossing the rest of the treat into her mouth before continuing. "I do have alterior motives for being here. And no, Darth Helios doesn't know I followed the four of you here, at least not in the sense that he asked."

 

Sirena took a seat opposite them, her blue gaze piercing even amidst the darkness, as she recalled her catching eye of them earlier in the streets and her following them and watching them from the shadows. While some of it may have been embellished, most of it was truth. She had a flair of being dramatic in the most awkwardest ways, but it was mainly for show, a means that even the deadliest Assassins hadn't yet to figure out. While most thought her skill was wasted on her loss of intelligence, they failed to see the truth in her game, and often became victims to it. A smile crept upon her face.

 

"I was curious about the three of you." Sirena spoke, the air around them growing cold. "I wanted to know the potential that each of you held and if you would be worthy Apprentices to poach."

75196401_876440456210803_2971411180634366772_n.png.7d1045ce91932a34f1faf6a1d547ae87.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

A loud patter of metal woke him from his sleep. How long had it been since he allowed himself the luxury? Many moons had passed, and his body took advantage of the short reprieve. A tingling sensation dribbled through his arms, stirring awake separately from where they hung loose in suspension. "Jeeves?" His voice managed to call out curiously. Searching, his hand felt slowly across the fabric of the seat, attempting to release himself from confinement. Guided by memory, he clutched the release and pulled, dropping his mass from the upended control seat. His equilibrium was off, and the fall was heavier than anticipated. Over two-hundreds pounds of flesh and metal buckled into the durasteel plating below, sucking the wind from him. The blood that drained from his nose splattered where he lay, and the sound of small laughter crawled from his throat.

 

"Aziza! You better still draw breath.. 

The breaking is upon us. You will never be more ready than you are in this moment.

You must survive."

 

Hyperion is a name connected to a man who enacted a savagery that would never be forgiven. His mentors were ecstatic with his extraordinary performances and his swift knack for strategy in the battlefield, while his peers inherited a sheer hatred for him in the same vein. There were many that wished for his head on a plate, and his arrogant eyes served to the black crows of Pelko. He had matured much since his youthful dominance, but his rivals had remained within the red planet, scheming with long-lasting grudges to fuel them. They would see the Archer butchered before he could return to rank within the Sith Empire, or they would die at his feet trying.

 

Amadeus stood from his fall, unsteadiness wearing on him alongside the fatigue. There were aches and pains that riddled his body from the impact, but nothing immediately impairing. Many others were dead, and he didn't need to see them to know this, for his senses immersed itself in the emotion of death. There were few who yet lived, and those were the few that they would make their stand with, soon they would come. Au Raa staggered towards Aziza, now watching her move slightly with exhaustion on her features. He had missed her feat of the force, but he watched her inquisitively, trying to see traces of how she survived without his hold. Time would draw more from her, if she was worth enough to endure further.

 

"Sith live by the inclination of natural selection. To us, strength is not only the ability to weaponize the force, but also the capacity to tailor ourselves to unfavorable conditions." Hyperion wiped the blood from his nose, smearing the bright metal that sheathed his mighty arms. "In the mind, those most fit to conquer, must endure by all means. For this reason, affliction and misery is a natural state to the Sith, and those that are hamstrung by such difficulties, are inadequate." He lectured as he drew closer, stepping over corpses mutilated by the impact, paying careful attention to the roaring sound of the winds just outside of their crash site. "Miles apart from assistance, and those that will come, are no more than hostiles. We were shot down with intention. What supplies remained intact, are most likely limited. What bodies remain, will be stricken with fear and injury. The power has been punched, and the storm outside has just begun."

 

 

"Rise apprentice, and lead us from dissolution." 

As he reached a hand out to help her up, slight footsteps and clamors from the rest of the ship could be heard

 


 

  • Like 1

VidRqOj.jpg

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Unsure what had just happened, Aziza lay where she was for a moment. Then she heard the thud of a heavy body hitting what was left of the decking behind her, and Amadeus' voice, clear and strong. He sounded uninjured, but she was unsurprised. His words sounded like they were coming from the end of a tunnel, muffled and difficult to make out. She turned her head--but immediately gasped as the splitting pain increased. Her face screwed up in a grimace, she reached a hand to her head. It came away red and sticky. 

 

Her master was saying something about natural selection and strength and pain, but the words didn't really make sense. A tingle of alarm began quietly in her mind. She focused on taking stock of her injuries; in addition to the pain in her head, her right foot was in serious pain. Other than that, it didn't seem as if she had additional injuries beyond bruises. The Arkanian was beside her then, giving her the rundown on what was going on, and she grimaced again, understanding enough to get that they were still in danger from some of his enemies, and that their supplies were likely limited. Endure by any means, he had said. 

 

He reached down a hand to help her up, and she grasped it and slowly used it to pull herself up. The moment she was fully vertical, however, the world took an alarming spin, and she abruptly vomited, just barely missing her master's boots. Too dizzy to feel chagrined, she was disheartened to further find that she couldn't put any weight on her right foot. She swayed and leaned heavily onto his arm. The confusion that was muddling her thoughts cleared a little. "Have a stimpack?" she rasped. "Going to need to wrap my foot, too, if we need to move."

 

She had been injured before on missions, but never this badly. Her first aid training had kicked in, though, and she grew more and more alert with every passing minute. If only this place would stop spinning so fast! "Other survivors?"

aziza.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The warships of the Korribani Defense grid were always kept in shape enough to fight, even if their crews took rotational breaks in the relative freedom of Dreshdae’s cold winter nights. However, for the crew of the Unwavering Pursuit, they werelucky enough for the command team to all be on ground. The Admiral, sitting in the chambers of state in Dreshdae, gave a growl of appreciation to the subordinate that brought her the news. 

 

“Another defection, another day the rebel alliance falls further apart.” 

 

A normal and expected response to the report of a defector, but Lord Valinor had other thoughts. Within a few minutes, a company of the Felix Legion was despised along the docking bay and Valinor herself stood await the crew to disembark. 

Commander Valinor - Sith Lord

OgXNrdC.png

Admiral 3rd Felix Legions

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Before she could get far her second in command called to her. "Ma'am, looks like we've got company. They're waiting just outside, and they look like they mean business." Kahla's heart sank, but she stowed her fear and made her way to the ramp. Only by sheer force of will and determination did she make it down the ramp, and face to face with the Sith. She locked eyes and spoke with strength. "Greetings, My lady." While she hid her terror deep inside herself, the two security officers on her flank weren't so collected, visibly shaking at the thought of what might come next. The Sith have cut people down just to make a point, even just to get a rise out of someone. Who's to say they won't be next? And with them, their entire ship. They waited for the worst.

kahala.png.91259c682421c23e82bdf3466492cecc.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"But they're so delicious."


Lord Roshan couldn't help but be somewhat amused that she had actually brought some sort of cookie-based concoction with her. For a "Sith Lord," she was surprisingly silly and playful. Which made him trust her even less.

 

"But you're right. I do have ulterior motives for being here. And no, Darth Helios doesn't know I followed the four of you here, at least not in the sense that he asked."

 

Roshan nudged Aliss with his leg. When she looked up to him he offered his free hand and pulled her to her feet.

 

"I was curious about the three of you. I wanted to know the potential that each of you held and if you would be worthy Apprentices to poach."

Roshan wanted badly to fold his arms and interrogate her. But he had seen what she had done earlier and they were not safe. She said that this wasn't a test and she wasn't sent by Helios but lies are always easier to pass off as truth to the "new kids in town." His lightsaber would remain lit for the time being and he retained a semi-casual stance that could give him the flexibility to drop into an attack stance in a moment's notice.

"Let's say I was to believe you, which I don't. You made one simple mistake, my dear primate. You referred to the ascended soulless one as 'the Crystalline.' But as you can see, his chassis is solid and looks just like any other ancient Hutt security droid, albeit a bit more 'handy'," Roshan began as he tapped on the shard's metal chassis. It sounded a touch more hollow than he expected, which caught him a bit off guard but he continued anyway, "Sure. Maybe you sensed that it was Force sensitive. I'd question whether you'd assume that you were getting a false echo or just think you were picking up the presence of organic force users like Aliss and myself. After all, it's impossible for a droid to be Force Sensitive. And it is not some common part of Sith history that such a thing like Soulless exists. Believe me. Darth Hel had be spend extensive time reading her Sith library during my training. And even if you've heard stories of something like him in some random ancient journal, his kind in such a form would have to be so extremely rare that such an assumption would be no less than wildly assumptive and unbelievably brilliant guesswork on your part. So your familiarity with our situation denotes purpose or much more extensive spying than you've lead on or both."

Pausing, Lord Roshan adopted a much more aggressive stance as the red light of his lightsaber better illuminated the Sith's face. He watched her reactions carefully as he finished his deductive argument.

"You act is cute, human. You clearly excel at humor, wit, and improvisation," the Cathar adds with a hint of sarcastic emphasis placed on the "wit" portion of the sentence. "But we've seen through this monkey business. Why are you really here? How do you know Darth Helios? Do you work for him? Are you two finally done with your tests and ready to train us? Or would you like for us to play more games for your amusement?"

___
image.png 

Edited by Durose Roshan
Link to comment
Share on other sites

(Encounter arrives in two posts)

Hyperion pulled the woman to her feet, recognizing the wounds that riddled her frame. He ignored her first question, knowing that there was barely time to prepare. Instead, the steel of his hands clutched at the ends of his torn cloak, tearing more of the strange material apart to supply the second of her needs. "Here, use this. Hurry." An impatience waned on the strength of his voice now, seemingly more concerned of what wandered just outside of this vessel, almost as if he could see them through the wreckage. Then, his eyes darted away from whatever it was he could see, and looked desperately over the bodies that lay mutilated by his feet. Lifelessness and a loosening of blood that curdled between the dentured metal floorboards was just a touch of the madness that surrounded the pair. He lowered himself to reach over the deceased; not for honoring the members of his crew, but for a tampering of energy that he could vigorously siphon from, sucking the remaining force from whatever still breathed inside those dying cells.

"Boss. You decide to kill her or what?" From a break in the collapsed entrance, the cold and starched voice of a Selonian sneered into play. Other shapes and sounds materialized slowly behind the creature.

 

 

Nikto, M, 35
Kajain'sa'Nikto
Fhysar Wax
Muscle

Selonian, F, 28
Shi Bere
Scout

Arkanian, M, 42
Geldalem Zer
Pilot

Arkanian, F, 21
Izi Zoln
Pilot

Butler, N
Jeeves

 

(Each of these will be made to form a controlled unit for Aziza. She will be made to command them in an increasing capacity. If comfortable in doing so, flesh out a brief personality for each and also a brief description of appearance if it helps. As much detail as you want to add, is to your discretion. I'll roll with how you want them to be as we move forward)

VidRqOj.jpg

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The forces of the Felix legions watched eagerly for any signs of potential resistance from the defecting craft and when none came, most of the soldiers let their disappointment show visibly on their faces. But they kept their weapons ready in case a fight should break out. 

 

Valinor strode forward, trailing a darkness that cut through the bright summer day like spilled ink. Boots paused ominously at the edge of the boarding ramp and the voice that echoed from within the darkness boomed through the minds of all. 

 

Those that believe themselves competent in the force please line up on the left, those who are not force sensitive please array yourselves before me.

Commander Valinor - Sith Lord

OgXNrdC.png

Admiral 3rd Felix Legions

Link to comment
Share on other sites

As the imposing presence that the dark figure commanded, Kahla stepped to the side, she walked with head held high, almost proud of herself and her possition. Deep inside she felt she knew what was coming, and mentally prepared herself for what's to come.

 

As the crew lined up in front of the Sith Lord, some stood quivering in fear, but not all. There were a few crew that had fought through a long and hard service, sometimes new ships, sometimes another captain. Time had not been kind to them, and they were ready for the hardships to come.

kahala.png.91259c682421c23e82bdf3466492cecc.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Solus listened to his master’s words and more then once was about to pipe up. When Roshan banged on his own chassis, Solus didn’t flinch, but could feel the power behind the cat’s muscles.

 

“Droid?” Solus started. This word felt slightly familiar to him. Like from one of his visions. Which was it? No matter, why was Roshan questioning this person. 

 

“Perhaps she’s…” Solus started, but stopped himself as Roshan continued. Instead he looked at Aliss and then at the strange lady. Roshan did have some points, or at least Solus assumed so. He had no idea how this world worked. If anything, Solus had no idea about himself. He knew he was a being, ascended to this new form. That was enough for him. 

 

But perhaps he should ask more questions. That could be a good idea. After all, if he was to serve his master dutifully and with excellence, he would need knowledge of this world and how to interact with it. And thus, he needed knowledge about himself. He needed to know about his body, his ascension, and his capabilities with ‘the force’. Course, the force or the ‘way of the wicked flame’ was why he was here, but he could also do some digging about himself. And this...Darth Hel. This was a name he would have to investigate. 

 

Still, Roshan was putting himself in a position uncomfortable for Solus. But he had ascended Solus, and thus Solus would keep quiet. And so he waited to hear Lady Sirena’s answer. 

solus.png.1650ac06c988997ee4153ec4d899dbe1.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

A portion of his words caused to brow to furrow, the egotistical Cathar setting her nerves aflame. Which wasn't a smart move on his part, had Sirena's mind drifted to the thought of wrinkle lines. But instead she sat in silence and heard his words, letting him have his say without even a simple sneer. And as he finished, she simply sighed.

 

"For all the Knowledge you've gather, Kitten..." Sirena's voice was casual as she stayed sitting, watching his movements with little care. "You're still quiet Ignorant."

 

"Droids aren't Force Sensitive naturally." Sirena continued. "So when I felt the Force flowing around it, it drew my curiosity, which led to my following the three of you, investigating. It wasn't hard to notice that its soul feels like that of a Jedi's Lightsaber Crystal, and give that a few sentient crystalline species exist within common knowledge, especially the Iron Knights of old where a race known as Shards were placed within Droids, including their Force Sensitives."

 

Sirena let her words sit for a moment as she eyed Solus, the creature wanting to speak for himself, but unable to against the Cathar he called father. She shook her head and turned back to Roshan. "One was even told of having been defeated by the infamous General Grevious during the Clone Wars."

 

"But enough of the History Lessons" Sirena spoke after a sigh, climbing to her feet. "I have not lied. I came to see your mettle against Darth Helios's task and to see your potential, to understand your passions, your sins. And if you want to know how I know him, you can ask him yourselves, and then ask him why one of my arms is a prosthetic."

 

After all, she came to bare the gifts of training, not to have an intellectual debate.

75196401_876440456210803_2971411180634366772_n.png.7d1045ce91932a34f1faf6a1d547ae87.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Roshan grinned underneath his mask. He had gotten the woman to drop her charade, if only for a second. Of course, he was impressed by her knowledge when she spoke. But he had perhaps poked a spot of irritation and he was interested in poking it a little more as she seemed determined to continue to use her animal euphemisms.

 

"... the Iron Knights of old where a race known as Shards were placed within Droids, including their Force Sensitives."

"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle," Roshan muttered to Aliss, feigning shock.

He spoke just loud enough that the Sith woman could possibly hear him but he directed the comment to the girl beside him. Aliss frowned a little at him, unfamiliar with the phrase. She then shock her head before looking back at the woman.

 

"One was even told of having been defeated by the infamous General Grevious during the Clone Wars."

"Yup. Lord Primate Kitten is my new name," he mumbled for what good lowering one's voice did inside these enclosed walls of stone.

His "Lord Primate Kitten" comment actually got a little bit of a chuckle out of Aliss before she rolled her eyes at Roshan and again shook her head. Whether Lady Sirena was phased by his chatter or not, the woman added what Roshan assumed was the "hint" of a threat as she concluded her history lecture.

 

"But enough of the History Lessons. I have not lied. I came to see your mettle against Darth Helios's task and to see your potential, to understand your passions, your sins. And if you want to know how I know him, you can ask him yourselves, and then ask him why one of my arms is a prosthetic."

"Let me guess. You aren't just a pretty face. You'll have to forgive me, your Sithness. Obscure races and an obscure orders of Knights that existed a long time ago are not my specialty. General Grievous I'm somewhat familiar with. He was the famous jedi killing droid, right? Droid history never really interested me and the rise of the Empire was well before my time so I only know the general facts and major battles of that time period. I did study a little bit extra on Darth Sidious and Darth Vader and their inquisitors because such Sith wisdom and brilliance and subject matters like that do interested me. But I imagine you have access to much better archives than that of Darth Hel or Kamino or the scraps on Ishvara. I look forward to perusing them. I truly do," Roshan paused just long enough to attempt to read her expression but short enough to cut of anyone else before they interrupted him. 

"That said, it would seem I was not entirely wrong that you've been following us for some time. That adds up. And you are correct, of course. It is a Shard. It is Force Sensitive. And it is a weapon of the darkside. Plucked from among a pile of useless ones and given new purpose."

Truth be told, Roshan wanted to verbally joust a bit further with the woman. Perhaps he was just bored, but he was curious to see what she could do. With his Sith armor on, she might ruin his cape but he doubted that this "wicked flame" could penetrate his armor any easier than ordinary fire. He might get burned but he doubted he'd end up like Darth Vader unless she lit the whole room on fire or something. Of course, maybe it was called "the wicked flame" for more reasons than simply melodramatic sensationalism.

But then again, Sith weren't above melodramatic sensationalism. Some would argue that they thrived on it. After all, how would it look if a fellow student was like, "Hey! Look at this awesome lightning I can now shoot from my fingers and strike down a room full of enemies, droids and fleshlings alike! Amazing right!" and you are like, "Well, well... I... I can shoot flames... and turn into smoke! So... so... ha!" Recruitment for passing on your teachings might be slim.

Roshan chuckled to himself a little as he entertained the thought, his eyes slightly glazing over but his subconscious still attentive to the woman's movements. He was ready to snap back into action at a moments notice if he needed to. He still did not believe her to be entirely friendly or trustworthy.

Of course, as Roshan finished speaking, Aliss looked to Solus and then to the Sith lady. She was a bit surprised that Solus was so quiet. He normally talked new people's ears off. She wasn't surprised by Roshan's responses, though. She was used to his wordy and often invective manner. But she was determined to use this sudden break in Lord Roshan's latest "harangue" to ask the question she had been wondering since the woman first introduced herself.

"So does that mean you can teach us how to use the holy croms and unlock the powers inside like Lord Roshan and Darth Helios have?"

____
image.png & image.png

 

Edited by Durose Roshan
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Solus wasn’t too insulted at being referred to as an it. Truth be told, he barely understood gender already. But he was a little insulted that he was being described without being spoken to directly. Still, his master was making talk. 

 

And some of the talk was enlightening. Talk of shards and iron knights. So there were others like him who were ascended. And they fought. Why else would one be struck down by a ‘General Grievous’? 

 

Then Roshan made another comment. 

 

“Plucked from among a pile of useless ones and given new purpose”

 

Solus turned and stared coldly at his master.

 

What others? He wanted to ask this, cold and harsh. Were they his family that had turned him out so long ago? Were they the ones that had cut him off? Where were they? Did Roshan have them with him? Or were they still in that world they had left?  

 

Solus desperately wanted to ask, but did not. He dared not be rude to the two ‘adults’ in the room. Still, he did not break his gaze from his master. And his gaze, artificial but not lifeless, did not betray him and ask these questions either.

 

 He was studying his master again, this time going over all that he carried, analizing all the potential hiding spots. Where could he possibly keep his siblings and parents? Perhaps in a pocket, or a bag back on the ship. Or maybe in his own weapon, like the lady mentioned.  Or maybe Aliss…

 

"So does that mean you can teach us how to use the holy croms and unlock the powers inside like Lord Roshan and Darth Helios have?"

 

Solus turned his sensor back to Aliss and studied her in the same light. Where would she keep such crystals. Did she know Roshan had the crystals? Of course she would, she was there at his ascension. So then why didn’t Roshan tell him that he had been found with others? Where could they be? In her pockets? 

 

No, she wasn’t that important. Or was she? Solus again looked back at Roshan. Where would he keep Solus’ family? His cursed, ignorant, hurtful family? Was she better then him? No, they were equals...weren’t they?

 

Solus had an idea.

 

“Yes great Lady Sirena!” he exclaimed loudly, almost out of the blue. “Surely if you are able to produce energy from your...lovely hands…” As Solus spoke this he lowered himself as if to study Sirena better. His serpentine body coiled more and more, clinking in that dark room, as his right hand extended out in invitation. 

 

“...then you must be great enough to train one of us! Provided you found us worthy, yes? I hope our trial of restraint that evolved into a trial of combat  proved that at least one of us are worthy of apprenticeship? "

 

If he could get Lady Sirena to show approval of Solus over Aliss, then perhaps Roshan would look more kindly on Solus and reveal where he kept the other crystals.  Or even let him carry the crystals. How great it would be to have power over those who had wounded him so. 

solus.png.1650ac06c988997ee4153ec4d899dbe1.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Kuat had been a test on Mordecai. His body had been tried on the battlefield, facing the Imperial Knight who had embarrassed him before, reclaiming some of his wounded pride. She had still escaped, but just as battered and bloodied as he. And while her escape infuriated him, he drew on that well to fuel him, to drive him to lengths he hadn't thought possible. His mind and spirit had been tested next, as he battled his fatigue and his feelings to remain collected, commanding his forces to the best of his ability. It was here that he was more disappointed- Only one ship. His only claim to glory. He would have to do better.

 

His leader's silence had worn on him, however. It was clear that the losses of two potent lords had been too far, and he'd returned to his master before judgement could be mustered. If the Sith Master wanted him dead, he'd put up a fight. Build his forces. A power-base. If not, then it would do him well regardless. His thoughts of legacy and legend had been left behind. They had been half-baked and hardly thought of. A fool's motivation. It didn't matter to him anymore. Instead, he was concerned only for his own strength. The wish fora mighty legacy still lingered, a stubborn and frustrating ember that he'd found impossible to stomp out, but it could be addressed later.

 

He returned alone, his forces left under command of the Captain. If the opportunity arose, Mordecai would return for them. If it didn't, they would continue Quala's campaign, waging war for the Sith empire.

 

As his shuttle approached where he had originally landed all those years ago, he was greeted by an almost familiar sight. An imperial craft, though larger than his had been, and a line of crewmen. This was new, though he was aware of what fates would soon befall them. Save the one who seemed to stand off to the side. An officer. He recognized the uniform. Not even a captain. But then... where was the captain? Already dead, perhaps? Maybe they were prisoners. He disembarked, waiting patiently. His master would see to him when she was finished with these mongrels.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

 

A shuddering breath brought the scent of someone long unlooked for and it brought a dark smile to the hidden lips of Valinor. But when the hidden masquerade looked back upon the small Imperial crew, the smile turned quickly to a frown of disgust. Valinor took a step back and surveyed them. 

 

Some stood with fear, others with pride, but in what Valinor could not tell. For how could deserters have pride? Cowardice begot desertion, and if they believed that they would have fan fare for their ‘valiant return to the empire’ they could not have been more wrong. 

 

She looked down the long line then raised her hand, stopping all of the idle chatter from troops and deserters alike. She held the hand open, a lightsabre pommel laying unlit across the outstretched palm. The darkness that surrounded the Sith Lord began to grow, like a web shaped by a spider. Sliding across the ground and through the air. And when the voice came it was terrible. 

 

Deserters deserve nothing less than death. And those that do not follow my instructions deserve a worse fate. You see the Sith are not a welcoming order. We accept only the Strongest

 

The lightsabre came on, a pale orange blade fighting and sputtering against the darkness. Valinor tossed it up into the air, where it would land at the feet of the crew. 

 

The one who survives may join our order

 

Laughter bellowed from the troops surrounding the Unwavering Pursuit, and like a lightswitch being flipped, darkness surrounded the deserters. Leaving them to slaughter each other like gladiators in some ancient arena. 

 

Commander Valinor - Sith Lord

OgXNrdC.png

Admiral 3rd Felix Legions

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The words echoed in the crew's head, and with only a moment of hesitation, an officer pounced for the hilt that lay before them. The time he spent in the air he recollected his thoughts, memories of the things they've done to survive. This would be no different, he knew he would have to fight hard not only against the others but against himself, force himself to forget what they had done for each other. The palm of his hand only glanced the ancient weapon before it was ripped away from him and he fell to the ground.

 

In an instant his hope for survival, his craving for life was shattered. Whoever got it first would surely slay him before he'd even finished tumbling. His heart skipped a beat, but his anticipation bore no fruit. With the moment of terror gone from his mind he gazed upward. The rest of the crew were equally in shock, all of them locking eyes with Kahla.

 

Deep breaths she thought to herself, disconnecting her mind from her actions. She inhaled, holding the dark air in her longs. She lit the blade in her hand as she exhaled, Opening her eyes she met the stare of the crew. The elegance of the Sabre she gripped fed her, she could feel the power she could take. This is how it had to be, that to reach her potential, she had to win.

 

The grin she now wore betrayed her intent, while most stood in shock, three of the security crew charged her. She showed no hesitation, and relished in the first to fall on her new blade. He dropped to the ground, cut open across the chest, the arm she severed followed him. The next two flanked her either side, both lounging towards her, to try to rip her new found power away. She bounded forward and turned about, using her momentum to swing with ferocity.

 

Those that did not cower in fear had swiftly turned on one another. With a gouged out eye, one chocked the life out of her victim after firmly planting her knee in his stomach. Another had weaponized his belt to serve him, quickly he hung one of the shorter men with the strength in his shoulder.

 

Kahla had little care for the ones that showed no fight in them, and she turned to face the girl with only one eye. The one who stood slowly, dazed at the monstrous way she'd dispatched her former colleague. Kahla's hand wrapped around her neck as she drove the Lightsaber into her back. She locked eyes with taller gentleman, who'd just let down his subordinate, who lifelessly fell to the unforgiving ground. 

 

Kahla could hear herself cackle in amusement, Nobody that still stood could stand a chance against her onslaught. In that thought he made his play, wrapping his waist belt around the wrist she held her winning chance in, and snapped her elbow with a knee. In pain she screamed at him. "You Dare Richard?!" He did not pause, he had seen what she did, had seen her pride, and would not let her progress. His boot landed hard against her chest, and with the unmistakable gasp for air he charged her. With her off hand she tried to reach out in the force once again, but had little luck in merely making the now derelict weapon roll.

 

With all the might he could muster he struck her chin, knocking her aback once more. For a moment she had thought herself unable to defeat him. That moment of shattered pride, the fury she held for him, the pain she felt, something inside her snapped, and like a failing damn she shoved him; throwing him back with the force. His skull cracked against the Durrasteel of the Unwavering Pursuit, and his body slumped heavily.

 

Deep breaths she repeated to herself, her arm now hanging uselessly at her side. She stalked over to the hilt once more. She summoned the weapon to her hand and burned a glare down upon the cowered who stayed himself, that shrunk down to the ground like a child crying for their mother. Her second in command, had she known he could be reduced to such a low so easily, she would have turned on him much sooner.

 

She let out her final deep breath as she dispelled the pale orange hue of the lightsaber, it's sound being the only echo she heard in her mind. Her shoulders rolled back, her spine cracked and snapped as she stood tall, turning to the dark lord with an unsympathetic gaze. She lifted her chin, and stood at attention, awaiting her next order.

"He did not follow your instructions, my lady; may his punishment supersede death."

kahala.png.91259c682421c23e82bdf3466492cecc.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sirena smiled at Roshan, his sin obvious and evident. Pride was a mediocre Sin, a passion to be the best of the best, but very few ever made it reality. So what would it be for the Cathar? Would it empower him? Or would it be his downfall like numerous other's before him? Sirena had not yet seen his fate, but she suspected the latter. A momentarily thought did cross her mind of a villain giving away his plans for world domination just before the Heros came in and saved the day. But perhaps his chatter could be backed up with more than words. "The Cathar thinks me pretty? Perhaps I should rub his belly later?"

 

Next her eyes turn to Aliss, the daughter, having watched her attentively. Her Sin seemed to be Greed. It was typically well rounded amongst the new Apprentices, a passion for grabbing as much power as they could before the others could. It was a stable sin, and one that could sustain one almost indefinitely. Her smile left her face. An average student at best, but at least willing to learn and not so much at inflation of the ego. "Holocrons are mere tools for recording teachings and philosophy. What I can teach you is the power to open them without setting their security feature off and you not end up dead."

 

And finally, Sirena looked at Solus, a heartily chuckle erupting from her voice as she extended her hand into his. The Shard's Sin was still undetermined, his innocence still present. But she did rather enjoy his personality. To corrupt such innocence would be invigorating. "Yes." She replied to Solus, her gaze shifting between all three. "I can impart my knowledge to all three of you, but only you can do what you will with it. It's up to each one of you how powerful of Apprentices you become."

 

But which one would truly be powerful? That was the question that truly sat upon her mind.

75196401_876440456210803_2971411180634366772_n.png.7d1045ce91932a34f1faf6a1d547ae87.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai scoffed at the Imperials. So quickly they turned on eachother, not even hesitating to pounce on one another like animals. Was this the famed Imperial Navy? No. This was a lowly pack of deserters. The irony in this thought given his own past did not escape him, and he shook his head. He was disappointed. This is what had awaited him had he not joined the Sith. He would have gladly killed them himself had Lord Valinor commanded it. But she had other plans, and he would not get in her way. He had not stakes in this. Even if she was seeking to replace him like the Sith of old, his competition was... lacking.

 

When the battle was over only two remained. A force sensitive woman, her pride stubbornly holding her up despite her bloodied state. Pride in what? Betrayal?In supposedly administering the Sith Lord's justice? And a broken and battered man, unconcious but alive, who had sought to win through treachery and guile rather than through the blade and his own mettle. Both equally undeserving. False Imperial filth. But if Valinor was intent on training one, he would put his bets on the victor. There was something there, at least, to work with.

 

He knelt before his master. "Lord Valinor, my task is complete, and I return with my report. After I landed on Dark Sun, I engaged a Jedi in one of the hangars. I defeated her, though her allies arrive before I could claim her life. Instead, I took on of her arms, and her lightsaber. I was enlisted to aid Lady Darksong in the Dark Lord's plan, and... I suffered the indignity of defeat over Borleais at the hands of two Imperial Masters. After my recovery, I was taken to Corellia, to establish a beachhead for Lady Darksong's invasion. The enemy struck Kuat before we could land, however, and we moved to defend it.

 

There I encountered one of the Masters that left me as you see me, and in the assistance of two Lords, I evened the score. She lives yet, but she will have scars to match my own. After we drove the rebels off, I returned here, to Korriban. I have massacred rebels in the Sith name, and have grown more powerful than I could have imagined when I left the false Empire."

 

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Valinor watched as the old apprentice approached. He had very obviously grown in stature and in power, her nose could tell her that. His aura was enticing, powerful, and had grown to the noontide of its power. She watched him as he approached and listened as he talked of his deeds. And she could feel the pride burning like a fever on his forehead. She lifted her hand as he finished and the area fell quiet. 

 

“Your power is strong but swift. You burn with power, but it will consume you. You will not see grey upon your head. At least....” Her voice turned soft, kind, and distant. “...You will die beautiful.”  

 

She let her hand drop. 

 

“But you have made me proud, and you will become a great lord before you stumble. I name thee Darth Mavanger, take these deserters and mould them to your will.” 

 

She turned, and with nothing further, walked into the lonely halls of Korriban.

Commander Valinor - Sith Lord

OgXNrdC.png

Admiral 3rd Felix Legions

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Roshan watched the Shard curiously out of the corner of his eye. It was clearly thinking about something. The way it seemed to be moving, one might even mistake it for thinking hard.


"The Cathar thinks me pretty? Perhaps I should rub his belly later?"


Perhaps surprisingly, Lord Roshan didn't have a clever reply or witty retort for the woman this time around. Nevertheless, he was mostly unphased and content with what he had said so far and how they conversation and developed, at least until Aliss spoke up. Lord Roshan couldn't help but catch his forehead with the palm of his hand and shake it a little. He felt like red-skinned child's comments made their group all look rather amateurish. But then again, he could only expect so much from a girl that had yet to even see her 16th birthday. Not to mention that she was not supposed to be his prized pupil. No, little Aliss was never supposed to be a possessor of such knowledge. She had fate to thank this sudden opportunity. Perhaps the Force knew something he didn't, and perhaps that is what worried Roshan the most about this whole situation. The Force was something to be subdued, not allowed to run wild, and surely not something to guide destinies and be trusted farther than you could throw your enemies with it.


"Holocrons are mere tools for recording teachings and philosophy. What I can teach you is the power to open them without setting their security feature off and you not end up dead."
 

Roshan sighed a little as he nodded at her response. She wasn't saying anything entirely clever but she wasn't wrong either. Roshan's train of thought, of course, was broken when Solus suddenly spoke up out of nowhere.

 

“Yes great Lady Sirena! Surely if you are able to produce energy from your...lovely hands...then you must be great enough to train one of us! Provided you found us worthy, yes? I hope our trial of restraint that evolved into a trial of combat proved that at least one of us are worthy of apprenticeship? "


Roshan could see Aliss glaring at the Shardbot. Lord Roshan was actually impressed, of course.

Was the weapon of Roshan showing a touch of ambition?
 

"Yes. I can impart my knowledge to all three of you, but only you can do what you will with it. It's up to each one of you how powerful of Apprentices you become."


Roshan nodded at the woman, satisfied with her reply.


"Very well, Lady Sirena. You see to check out. Would you like to teach us these things now or is there somewhere you'd like us to meet you in the morning? I'm not thrilled to be sleeping her but we all have to rest sooner or later."

 

___
image.png

Edited by Durose Roshan
Link to comment
Share on other sites

With those words, Mordecai inhaled sharply. It was done, then. He was a true Sith. Nothing seemed to change, as he thought it would have. Perhaps, in reality, it was but a rank. But with it came privilege. Privilege to command lesser Sith, to fight his own battles, and to mold these two as he deemed fit. He rose as his former master left, not shaken by her predictions of his early death. At worst, it meant he would die as Lord Fahren had, on the cusp of greatness. At best, it was an expectation to be shattered like glass as he rose above it. And this would be his first step.

 

He turned to the two survivors, one still unconscious.

 

"Interesting. It seems that you are mine. And through the fire of battle I shall temper you into a weapon, one that shall slay Jedi and Imperials alike. But first... you must survive. You stand with false pride- you have not slain fighters, but crewmen, with a weapon unearned and undeserving for one of your station. You will attack me, or you will kneel, but either way I will see such falsities banished from your mind."

 

He glanced at the injured crewman. there would be... other uses for him. Though weak in the force and in body, perhaps there was a chance for his mind. And iff not, then he would fall like the rest of his allies. Turning back to the upstart before him, he ignited his own blade, the cyan blade reflecting eerily off of Korriban's crimson sands, his second still hanging from his waist.

 

"Which will it be, pretender?"

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...