Felucia - Jedi Temple

[Darth Calypso]

Calypso fell within herself.

 

On the outside, she seemed mundane, not at all an ancient Sith reborn. Her tattered clothes were gone, replaced by a simple brown worker's frock that wouldn't be out of place on an assembly line. Her yellow eyes had dulled to a sickly ochre, and her pale skin and white hair now looked more the result of a lack of sun and early aging respectively than of any connection to the Dark Side. Perhaps the one thing her master had been talented at was hiding in plain sight, and she'd picked up the knack herself during her time building her strength underneath the Jedi's notice a thousand years ago.

 

Inside, however, a black torrent of emotions swelled and waned to her will. Fury and disgust at the universe mingled with her ever present hatred, and the Dark Side responded as it always did. She let it flow through her, an icy burning that scoured her and left her painfully cleansed. It was only in moments like this that she ever felt truly whole, and she took a moment to savor the exhilaration, before turning her will to the task at hand.

 

She directed the power out into the world, willing the Dark Side itself to manifest in the physical plane, a perfect blasphemy. The power left her, and she opened her eyes.

 

...Nothing.

 

Frustration curdled her cultivated reservoir of emotions, and she briefly considered letting them out in a display of power. She quickly decided against it. The ship was coming up on Felucia, and she would not risk being discovered by the Jedi now, not over a reckless release of emotions. Better to wait until they'd landed, and the planet's own life energy would act as camouflage.

 

Speaking of which...

 

She got up from her unassuming quarters and exited out into the hall. The other colonists on The Ottega Dawn milled about, excited to be landing and starting their new lives in Har Gau. None of them gave the thin, meek Sith Master a second look, and she shuffled her way towards the bridge. As she walked further away from the living quarters, the crowds thinned. When she reached the final door that led to the ship's command center, she did not pause, but gestured with her hand, and the door whooshed open.

 

Where the crew should have been, only a single Ithorian remained at his station. By the symbols on his drab uniform, he was the captain of the ship. The rest of the crew lay piled into a single corner, charred to the point of their various species being unrecognizable.

 

The captain's response to her presence was immediate and visceral. Letting out a high-pitched whine that would have been more fitting coming from an animal, he cowered, tucking his head down in a futile attempt to look as small as possible. Calypso strode over to him, and the man began quaking in fear.

 

"Are we landing soon?"

 

The Ithorian could only nod. Up close, scorch marks and burns became apparent, a testament to the hours and hours of "meticulous" attention Calypso had bestowed upon him after she'd disposed of the unnecessary bridge staff. She did not have any long term plans for the ship, and so she would only need the captain for now.

 

"Good, land as planned. Then await my instructions." She did not need to threaten. The two of them perfectly understood each other.

 

The utterly broken, wreck of a captain could only nod again, shaking so badly Calypso was mildly surprised he could stand.

 

If her time among the Cthon had taught her anything, it was how to break a beast to her will.

 

______________________

 

The Ottega Dawn touched down outside of the city of Har Gau. Colonists, eager to make a new start for themselves in the city trickled out.

 

No one noticed the single woman disappear deeper into the jungle.

Edited April 21, 2023 by Darth Calypso

[Darth Calypso]

The towering plants of Felucia rustled as a dark blur loped through its depths.

 

Calypso had been running for hours, the Force both guiding her and propelling her along with every step. Even though the jungle was quiet to her ears, to her sense of the Force, it was like moving through a thunderstorm. All around her, life clamored and howled into the Force, a riot of silent cries sent up by the overpowering flora. In time, she knew she would acclimate, but until then she enjoyed the sensation. She had felt something like this before, in the depths of Coruscant in its heyday where the deluge of sentient lives and emotions drowned out anything that the Jedi might sense. Here it would be the same, so long as she didn't draw attention to herself. The jungle would only hide so much.

 

As if thinking about it conjured it up, she sensed a presence. A dark power, not foreign like her own but something else. If she was a blade cutting through the weave of the Force, then this was...an infection. Yes, something insidious and subtle, but present. 

 

And it was moving towards her.

 

She abruptly stopped her rapid trek, pausing only long enough to gauge the direction this subtle feeling was coming from.

 

Then she took off again, this time to meet what was coming for her.

 

_____________________________________

 

There was little warning of her approach. Calypso had spent much of her life living in the depths of Coruscant, under the Jedi's noses, and if there was one thing her Master Darth Vilius had been good at, it had been hiding. As such, her presence in the Dark Side was muted, a dull ember of power where a star should have been.

 

Even so, as she leapt out of the foliage and dropped in front of the native Felucians and their warped procession, she showed no fear or surprise. She could sense their darkness clearly now. It was unusual. Erratic. Something similar to the Dathomiri, but also something else.

 

"You seek me," she said, no question in her voice. Her hand flexed briefly, and she allowed the suppressed channel of power to open a fraction. All around her, trees and other plants shuddered. The light filtering from above dimmed, shadows lengthening as the light seemed to withdraw. It was a simple display of power. "...Why?"

 

She did not ask what they were. That would come later. Right now she simply had to determine if they were better off dead, alive and free, or in her service.

[Darth Calypso]

On 5/17/2023 at 8:42 PM, Hagark said:

Shaman stood a few feet from Calypso. Her hunched body forced her to look up and the woman, and yet she seemed to not mind. 

 

“Tell us, Vesh, why you breathe our air. Why Felucia, the Jedi’s lair? You sought us, and we sought you.  If you were a Jedi, we’d already eaten you. Did Hagark find you, maid of murk? Did you come to perform some gruesome work?“

 

Calypso's face remained passive as she looked down at the warped Felucian standing in front of her. Her nose wrinkled as the sickeningly sweet stench of rot wafted past her nose. The air around this foul procession hung heavy and unnatural, saturated in the wrongness that had rooted in their very core. They reminded Calypso of something...

 

Then she laughed as it came to her. They reminded her of the Cthon. A different breed of aberration perhaps, but aberrations nonetheless.

 

They were monsters, and Calypso was kin to monsters.

 

"What twisted little things you are," she said, still laughing. "I like you. I won't kill you." A sweet, almost maternal smile spread across her face, though it didn't dim the dangerous glimmer in her eyes. "You want to know why I'm here? I'm afraid it has nothing to do with the Jedi. Indeed, I'd prefer to avoid them for now. No, I'm here for seeds." She gestured around her at the jungle. "This garden of yours will give me seeds from which I will grow pandemonium and fear." Her smile widened. "And as for gruesome work, oh yes, rest assured there will be the blood of off-worlders spilled before I am done. Come with me if you wish. Indulge in your appetites. After that...we'll see."

 

Calypso did not wait for a response. Instead, like a beast suddenly catching a scent, she was tearing off through the jungle again.

 

In her head, she did not know if the strange creatures would follow. In her soul, she was certain they would.

 

The Dark Side walked along its own path, and this chance little intersection was important. Of that Calypso was sure.

 

___________________________________

 

The Sionver Research Outpost stood out starkly from the colorful backdrop of the jungle. A silvery dome with a communications dish set at the apex, it was an island of technology in a sea of wilderness. While there were only several dozen technicians and scientists stationed there, the dome was large and well-equipped for an outpost of its type. A sizable door on side, set halfway up the dome, held what Calypso suspected was the outpost's hangar, where the staff's shuttle would be kept for when trips to one of the cities was necessary. A second door, this one on the ground level, would be the one to lead into the base proper and act as an embarking point for the staff's skiffs when they wanted to venture out to take samples.

 

Calypso waited outside the research station, first to look for any potential security measures, and then to give the corrupted Felucians time to catch up, if they had chosen to trail her.

 

Finally, she made her move.

 

She allowed a trickle of the Dark Side to flow through her, calling on her bottomless hatred with the ease of reflex. Her body shivered in anticipation, but she kept herself in check. It wouldn't do to let her full power out here, and draw the Jedi down on her.

 

Instead, she made a small gesture with her hand, and a brief squeal of metal cut through the sounds of the jungle as the communications dish shifted on its base, sparking briefly as its connection was cut.

 

Calypso did not have to wait long. The main door opened a minute later, and a technician stepped out and started moving towards a set of rungs running up the side of the dome, wearing a belt festooned with tools. He started up the side, and Calypso waited until he was halfway up before she held out her hand again.

 

The technician stopped, and while clinging to the rungs he began feeling at his throat with his free hand, first slowly and then more frantically. Faint gagging noises could be heard as he futilely tried to suck in air. Then his strength failed him, and he tumbled down the side of the dome like a toy.

 

Calypso caught a brief glimpse of the man's terrified face, and a thrill shot through her. Her breath quickened, and her eyes widened. She was going to enjoy this.

 

She shot out of the jungle, and as she entered the opened door the technician had come out of, she gestured, and a large spanner jerked out of the now dead technician's utility belt and floated next to her as she raced inside. She couldn't use her lightsaber here, not if she wanted to keep the Sith's presence minimal. But that didn't mean she couldn't kill them in other ways.

 

A scientist was in the entry chamber when Calypso came in. The woman only had time to open her mouth in confusion before the spanner caved in her skull. And then Calypso was past her and moving through the outpost.

[Darth Calypso]

On 5/31/2023 at 12:55 AM, Hagark said:

“Oh, so sweet, always remembers…” Pariah commented as he jumped on the body that crashed before him. Pariah placed both sucked hands on the guards head and twisted, killing the man instantly. Following this, Pariah pulled upwards and ripped the skull right off, a trail of vertebrae following. 

 

 “Even when starving, he cares for his members.” Pariah continued as he licked the newly acquired spinal cord. The guards' screams ended, and the only noise was Virago comping on something juicy “So seeds, that’s what we find? These seeds, exactly what kind?”

 

Calypso smiled, her mild expression not something that would be out of place on the face of a coruscanti lady appreciating an opera. Behind her eyes though burned the cruelty that reveled in the carnage these fascinating creatures were wreaking. She enjoyed this. Strip away all the philosophy and rhetoric, the talk of lies and strength, and that simple truth remained. She enjoyed this violence.

 

She enjoyed hurting people.

 

"All of them," she said, her voice again poised and refined. She wore the elegance of a cultured woman, a subtle mockery of those who used it to hide their weakness, even if no one here who wasn't currently panicking, fighting, or dying would appreciate it. In her own way she supposed, that was her petty vengeance, proving that even a once ignorant gutter rat could play the part they were so proud of. That was her little cut at her "betters." A bit of leftover spite inherited from an angry child, but what was the point in achieving true power if you couldn't indulge yourself now and again?

 

"Follow me," she said, moving down the hall. Any remaining gas or spores wafted away from her, a subtle pressure in the Force protecting her. As she did, another technician ran across the intersection, seemingly headed for the hangar bay. He didn't make it two steps once he came into view. With a sickening pop followed by a bloodcurdling scream, the man dropped to the ground, clutching at his now twisted and maimed legs. On closer inspection, it looked like they had been rotated at the knee almost 180 degrees. Calypso had considered killing him but...well, the Felucians seemed to be enjoying themselves, and she wouldn't want to rob them.

 

She continued through the facility, first using her power to seal the door leading into the hangar (couldn't have the shuttle leaving early), and maiming anyone who crossed her path. She'd need to be more thorough and kill everyone eventually, but first she wanted to find her target.

 

It did not take long, a benefit of the small size of the outpost. She soon entered into a room that was filled wall to wall with glass boxes, most the size of a hand, and some as large as a human. Perfectly preserved inside each box were cuttings. Slices of fungal growths, exotic leaves, bioluminescent flowers, Felucia's floral diversity was on full display.

 

Perfect.

 

Calypso extended her hands, and with a control that would have shamed many Jedi, the various clear boxes began to lift up and form up into a procession, which slowly made its way down the hall and towards the hangar bay. With a simple gesture and the sound of wrenching durasteel, the door that she'd bent in place to seal it suddenly became straight again, and opened up to admit her little plant parade.

[Darth Calypso]

Calypso felt the war party approach before she heard them. They glimmered and glowed like little beacons of light, their energy blending and flowing through the vast network of life that was Felucia without resistance. Unlike the twisted, murderous collection of creatures that had followed her here, these Felucians truly belonged to this world and embraced it, as much a part of it as it was of them.

 

Such unity, such affinity, such rapport...

 

A wordless urge filled her, a desire to rip these young warriors away from their mother world that they so loved. She appreciated agony of any kind, but to tear apart something so harmonious was a treat. It had been so long since she had truly taken her time with a foe, taken the time to fully communicate the depth of what she was to another living thing before she snuffed it out. And here that hurt would echo outward into the very roots and soil of the planet itself, as it felt the pain of its dying children.

 

But...this was not the time. She had work to do. So she was equally pleased and regretful when she felt the creatures outside fight back and begin to slay the enemies who'd found them. She would continue to monitor the situation, and if they required her assistance...well then she might not have a choice but to indulge.

 

A smile crossed her lips as she turned her full attention back to her task.

 

Many of the crates had already been moved, and more than half the shelves were empty. While she could take some credit, the researchers had truly been efficient in how they packed their samples. As the last sets of boxes began to lift, she walked out, following them into the hangar bay. There stood the shuttle, a model that had been old even in her time. Likely a donation no one had a use for, refitted to suit the researcher's needs.

 

Ministry-class shuttle

 

Near its ramp were piled the crates Calypso had been moving. With another gesture, the ramp lowered, and she began to move the crates aboard. The irony of the Dark Lord using the Force to load a shuttle like a common dockworker was not lost on her, but pride had always been the one vice Calypso had been wary of. So many Sith died to it, and she did not intend to be another.

 

She felt the Rancor rider, and though her procession of crates did not stop, her attention was drawn outside.

 

Would her new allies survive?

[Darth Calypso]

On 7/13/2023 at 3:10 AM, Hagark said:

Virago looked at Calypso and the ship. “I’ll restrain her, for Shaman must survive this war.” With that, Virago made steps towards the vessel. 

 

Outside, the beast roared again as more trees were knocked down. Now, it was using one of the mushroom trees like a club, swinging wildly in the air at something only it could see.  Pariah could be heard laughing over the commotion. 

 

Calypso stopped as the roar of the rancor grew closer, a crate settling itself on the ramp as she sighed. Perhaps she should deal with this before it got any more out of hand.

 

She swept across the hangar bay, striding with the assuredness of someone who assumes they belong anywhere they choose to walk. She looked out on the scene taking place around the outpost. It seemed the others had handled most of the other warriors of this little expedition, and even the rancor was being distracted by the third of the trio. She considered the scene, then stretched her arms out. This would need to be done subtly. Utilizing her full power here would simply call the Jedi, and that she could not afford at the moment.

 

"Apologies," she said to the Felucian dodging the rancor's blows, her voice polite, "but we can't delay any longer."

 

Her focus shifted to the creature's rider, another Felucian. This one clung to the top of the rancor, and did not move with the experience or grace she might expect if this Felucian had been doing this all his life. A young warrior then, proving himself on a mount as raw and eager as he was. That made a degee of sense. Rancors, despite popular depictions, were creatures of deep emotional connection. They cared, they formed friendships, they mourned. It followed that a young rancor and a young rider should be paired up together, and allowed to connect on an emotional level. That bond would serve them over the course of their lives. Unfortunately for the rider, right now it meant his mount was far more temperamental than an older one might be, and he was simply along for the ride at this point.

 

Well then. Rider first.

 

"Mrias." The arcane word reverberated slightly, a thrum of power at the edge of hearing. A flicker of her deep-seated hatred, focused now on this rancor riding fool who had crossed her path, flared to life in her hand. A searing white hot ball of energy, a Bolt of Hatred, swelled in her hand before flying off directly for the rider. He only had a split second to see it coming, and no more time after that to dodge. The bolt took him square in the chest, and began its work. The rider screamed, pain unimaginable twisting his voice like hands wringing a towel. Steam rose from his chest as it seared and boiled under the power of the Dark Side. Then, abruptly, the scream ended, and the rider slipped off the back of the rancor, either dead or in shock. Either way it didn't matter.

 

The rancor's confusion only seemed to grow, the limited input from its rider suddenly missing. Calypso capitalized on this with another hand gesture, and a blast like wind struck the rancor at the knees, driving it to the ground.

 

"Would you like the honors?" she asked the dark Felucian who'd been dancing around the beast, laughing. She was genuinely curious if it could finish off the beast.