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The Hapes Cluster


Tarrian Skywalker

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…Oya…

Terra passed her tongue across the black paint that adorned her lips, feeling the serrated edges of her darkmetal teeth caress her flesh. The pain made her elated, her body shaking with a bestial madness. She felt as though her body was a gnarled and mighty Veshok, her entirety caressed by the breath of the gods, from the supple branches to the deepest roots that pierced to the underworld.

…My words are the mighty roar of war…

Her head rolled backwards, her saccadic eyes watching the heavens as they fell away from her as the Basilisk fell towards the surface of Gallinore. These stars were not her own.

…I see the reflection of divine anger in your eyes…

She reached towards those unfamiliar stars and traced a constellation that appeared to her as a mythosaur skull before it was lost in the grey gloom of Gallinore’s atmosphere. It was a promise for a powerful sun to rise and burn. To blaze in glory like the fires of purification that had made her strong. Terra whispered to her men as she rocked in her saddle, ecstatic in the sign and its promise.

“The omens are good… Tonight we will dance in the morass of the red rain...”

If there were to be carnage, Terra knew she would dance the maddest. She would dance as a bersærkergang, as one wrapped in the embrace of the gods and transformed into the wildness of the mythosaur. She let out an uncontrollable howl and signaled her small group to head for the small village that bordered the warehouse where the encrypted signals had come from.

Her battlescanner was nearly overpowered by the strange broadcasts that poured from the warehouse, but it was able to pick up the small movements of a sleepy village. The hour was early, and the sun had not yet risen. Not a soul would awaken to sound the alarm.

Terra set Hades down near the entrance of the warehouse and slipped from its back. As he feet touched the soft earth, her knees almost buckled. She had ridden for too long and had no bearings for gravity. Unslinging her battlerifle, she sent out a small signal tone to Tros, Dar’Manda, and Rose. All it held was three letters in  rhythmic beats and dashes

-...  -..  --..

Translated it was simply

B D Z

Which could only mean

Base.

Delta.

Zero.

No witnesses.

…Oya…

Terra

To the Death...

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The void of hyperspace was a truly mesmerizing sight even for one who held no eyes, its depth as unknown as its shallow pull upon one's consciousness and physical form. Its was a hard feeling to describe, like gravity without any gravitational pull. Especially to the near exposed form of one's own as we strode forward within its directional grasp. It reminded me of an old story that was once told by a now dead Elder of my Clan's name, one that spoke of a bridge that reached the immortalized drinking halls of Kad Ha'rangir where one drank the fermented blood of those ripped from the slothly grasp of Arasuum in death. And as we exited it, my mind embraced the thought that I had crossed such a threshold. But now, now was the time for action.

I followed in suite of the others as we turned our direction, weaving through debris and carnage of events long past, revealing in the deathly handiwork of my lord's eternal will, whether it touched sentients or that of star systems, his works were self evident no matter where one stood in the Galaxy and our purpose was to finally reveal such truths to the masses, not by idle hands, but through action and revelations. It was the only way to purge the weakness of Arasuum and to become the beacons of strength and glory to those that would see our lord's works through our very hands. A task that only we, the chosen, could make into reality and present to the unfaithful. For seeing is the only true way of believing for those of weak mindedness. Recieving the coordinates from @Terra, I turned Hati's form toward the planet below.

Hati and I were nearly of one being, one thought, one action. Our minds had melded perfectly, our faith in Kad Ha'rangir and of Manda'lor having brought our souls into unison. And we both reveled in the freedom we had been granted by it, finding peace in our pasts, and our thoughts in unison upon cleansing Arasuum from this Galaxy forever. Hati, like my armor and my Clan, was a remnant of ages long past, having seen many crusades rise and fall. But unlike the others, they failed to truly grasp Kad Ha'rangir's will. Only now, under this new Manda'lor, had it been truly realized, and we both knew it as we plummeted toward the planet's surface with blazing speeds, pulling up just mere meters from it as we headed toward her direction.

Our orders were crystal clear. And as we neared the village, Hati released her cleansing flames upon the huts of the unfaithful and setting their souls aflame as Kad Ha'rangir reclaimed them from Arasuum's unholy grasp. Death would be slow and agonizing, and when we were done, we would leave their corpses hanging from the rafters for all to witness the merciful hand of our Lord. For their souls would join him in Manda, and there they would know his grace eternally.

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Formally Known as Hunter Of Shadows/Dark

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Like a silent dart thrown at it target, the 3 patrol crafts shot out of hyperspace. They were silently re-routed to the Hapes Cluster instead of their target from a priority override by Terra. Standing instead of sitting, Tros kept his hands upon the seat of the pilots chair as he watched to movement from space of the planet below. His own buy'ce kept his eyes from the sight of his vod, but he knew that they could just as easily feel him through the air. Everyone's presence seemed heightened through the sheer volume of them being on yet again another siege of sorts. Although their orders were pretty clear... Silence was to objective. Looking at the copilot, Tros gave a slight nod.

"Land outside the perimeter of any potential scanners of our target. This assignment is for us to be like shadow warriors. No one should see us."

Tros only then let go of holding onto the chair of the pilot's chair and walked back to address the crew who was with him onboard the patrol craft. In the loading area, Thae stood with the five men from Clan Sharratt. He turned around and looked at Tros, giving him a slight nod before putting on his own buy'ce. With that, Tros made sure to check his own weapons before the craft began to shake from it going through the atmosphere. It didn't take too long before the shuttle had landed, allowing for its nine occupants to disembark the craft. Likewise, the other two patrol ships also did the same. Each were quick to pull up their HUD's, and Tros gave out marching orders from there. Then, silently and quickly, the 27 Mandalorians began to move towards the target location. They all had standing orders to slit the throats of anyone who could potentially be a problem on their way towards the warehouse. This would be the quietest his warriors would be on this mission. Silent and hidden. 

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Mandalorians. Kain had not expected them. To be fair, he hadn't expected anyone. However, had he expected interference, he wouldn't have expected the Mandalorians. Regardless, it was too soon. He would have to push ahead his schedule, improvise a bit in the here and now, and escape with a minor victory. Part of him knew this was foreseen, the part that softly whispered to the rest of him, goading him on, calling him to greatness of a higher order.

Slowly, the doors to the warehouse swung open, inviting the interlopers in. How does one get under a Mandalorian's skin? Deny them what they crave. Give them no fight, give them no wall to crash through, give them no sandcastle to knock down. And once under the skin, it becomes easy to pull strings. To manipulate. To hit anyone where they are most vulnerable. This was the art Kain was especially practiced at, not just planning and manipulation, but knowing his enemies better than they knew themselves. It was how he was able to infiltrate so easily.

Inside the warehouse, they would find shelves upon shelves of server stacks, various tech on hallways of racks, power generators, and a large central area directly accessible from the main door. In it they would find nearly a hundred women and children, none of them armed. Behind the crowd sat Kain's current surrogate body, plugged into a large cybernetic hub, his processes busying themselves with various tasks inside the network he had integrated himself into.

Nothing was said. It was not yet the time for monologues. For now, Kain had moved his piece on the Dejarik board, and it was time for these brutes to move theirs.

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Like my posts? Google "zalgo font."

If you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, have some taste.
Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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…Do you think slaughter brings me honor?

The needling pain of a god’s disapproval ran its way up her spine, clawing and scratching through her nervous system. Terra let out a retching gasp within the confines of her buy’ce as the pain shattered her will. She spasmed and gagged, her body-weight supported by HADES. The fires from Dar’Manda illuminated her own failures

Cassus Fett did me no honor in the genocide of the Cathar.

The voice was calm but filled with condemnation. The conviction wormed its way into her soul, burrowing deep and shattering the illusions of what she had made. Her mouth felt as sour as her belly as she spoke

“I have taken your proud people and turned them to nothing but thieves and raiders…”

The pain dug further into her gut, and she felt as though she was being stabbed over and over again with each heartbeat. She ripped the buy’ce from her head and spewed soured blood onto the fertile ground. Terra looked at her reflection in the polished helm, illuminated by the fires made from the innocent dead. The bronze circlet caught the light of the flames and washed it across her chimeric eyes.

…Make them mine.

With one last shuddering heave across her body, the voice left her with its commandment. Terra closed her eyes, wracked with the afterglow of a god’s touch. The pain subsided, but the condemnation did not. Opening her comlink, her gravely voice filled the Mandalorian’s encrypted channels. Her fingers caressed the crystalline totem that hung from her neck.

“Belay previous order.”

She placed a silver-laced flower upon her tongue and began to hum her own battlesong, her body beginning to writhe to the animalistic beat as she advanced. Her lithe form, dressed in armor as it was, twitched and moved erratically in the flexibility of her Echani race. As her pupils dilated, she danced towards the yawning doors of the warehouse. Her heartbeat matched the roars she heard in the dark as she slipped her buy’ce back upon her head. She greeted the familiarity with a primal howl

“We do not flee from fire or iron.”

She checked the action on her battlerifle

“We are the tasters of blood.”

Her tongue flicked across her blood-painted lips as she approached the entrance

“We are as mad as wolves and as strong as the Mythosaur

Her long hair hung down her back in a plait that whipped about as she danced

“The slaughter of the weak brings no honor to Kad Ha’rangir.”

Her flesh felt as though it was alight with holy fire. Her heart hammered in her ears in its primal beat. Her senses were filled with the gnawing anxiety of the deep forests. The eyes of the women and children, packed amongst the server-racks and technology, glittered on her HUD.

“We will test ourselves upon the strong and leave the weak in his hands.”

Terra opened her external comlink and let out a horrifying, beastly howl. She would restore the honor of her people but would not leave them to its weakness. To the women and children captured by Kain, an armored, howling, writhing beast was at the doors. If they stood against her, they would fall and be left to scavengers as dead flesh to reward entropy’s greed.

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Terra

To the Death...

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Amidst the sensor blocking Transitory Mists, an astral predator stalked the void with violent intent. The Erdgeist disgorged a small surgical strike force, sixty stormtroopers aboard TIE Reapers, with six AT-PTs and a squadron of TIE strikers for support. Hapes would no doubt bristle at the intrusion into their airspace. Or maybe not... Intel said reports were coming in of Crusader raiding parties hitting isolated population centers, and the locals were starting to deep scan other anomalies on their sensors. Command thought it might be a distraction, or maybe the Crusaders were finding out that zeal was no substitute for disciplined execution of a plan. The holovids always portrayed over enthusiasm and independent thought on the battlefield as valuable traits, but more often than not they just got people killed and wrecked ops. Real soldiers knew that they were on the field to do a job, and that it was better to trust in the plan than try to out think common sense. 

Admittedly, it was something of a new mindset for Naitan, having only recently been reassigned to the Imperial Stormtrooper corps. He used to be a mudbelly for the Imperial army, a gearhead that maintained siege drones. Imperial Army philosophy was that victory was won by being the last ones standing on the hill, and the mudbellies believed that standing out was a sure ticket to hell. So they did their jobs, kept their heads down, tried not to be a hero, tried to be unworthy of Death's notice. It was all luck really, but the only way for the human mind to comprehend the utter indifference of a reaper riding down a trooper on an artillery shell was a litany of superstitions. Even the gods don't survive the trenches, but in their absence a hodge podge religion of circumstantial evidence and irrational tales that deluded people into thinking there was some way to shape your fate on the battlefield if you were clever enough. He left that world behind in what would probably become another gospel in the Holy Writ of ways to not die in the muck. When HVT-1 had begun his master plan, Naitan was in yet another mud hole with more time than work to occupy him, so he tried his hand at the code. Somehow, he cracked it before anyone else. The absurdity of it had his platoon in fits, all of the great minds of every power in the galaxy stumped, and it was a mudbelly that finally cracked it.

The Empire saw an opportunity for a PR boost, put him on the next shuttle out for transfer to the stormtrooper corps. He was going to be a hero whose face they could plaster on recruiting posters. The people he spoke to, he didn't know if they were Sith, they wore masks of white faces with completely neutral expressions. but somehow felt more like spooks than whatever it was that Sith felt like. Despite that, they spoke plainly to Naitan about what they had wanted from him, and seemed possessed of a form of razor sharp honesty that cut quickly and efficiently to the point. It was refreshing, too often people that weren't soldiers got caught up on stupid crap, entangled themselves in stupidity. Word was starting to get around that the higher ups wanted to reorganize the stormtrooper corps, bring about a new vision for it, and the blank faced spooks seemingly confirmed that, saying that even without his breaking HVT-1s code he would have been a candidate for transfer and of considerable value for the organization's new direction.

So here he was, clad in black armor surrounded by what might as well have been his in-laws after an unexpected wedding. He at least had a history of combat training and had seen actual fighting, but there was an unspoken distance in the air suggesting that command had told his squad to put his survival as a priority. Nobody liked babysitting on the battlefield. There was too much important stuff going on to keep one life breathing. Perspective needed to be spread out to keep an eye on everyone, focusing it on one person made everyone else vulnerable. Regardless of the facts, if anyone in Naitan's squad died today, it would be his fault.

The light went red and the ramp dropped. His squad fanned out with well oiled precision while he did his best to keep his head down. There had been a lot of jokes told over his time in the trenches about the uselessness of stormtrooper armor, but Naitan couldn't deny that compared to his metal carapace armor and trench coat he felt liberatingly unburdened by the plastic like material. Looking at his scanner, he called out to his squad what he was reading.

"Lots of bio readings inside, could be hostiles or hostages, energy readings largely suggest hostages, but there are some outliers that are unaccounted for."

The sergeant responded after a moment of conferring with command, "Command says to secure hostages with stun blasts if they get in the way, but we can't let some moron in panic mode compromise our mission. We do the job, we go home, everything else is a secondary concern."

The AT-PTs positioned themselves to suppress exits from the warehouse while the TIE strikers began flying CAP. The stormtroopers began the leapfrog process of penetrating the structure, silently hoping that there were no IEDs or other traps.

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As death and destruction ensued, I knew my place as harbinger. It was not my place to end their lives, but to place them upon the path to Kad Ha'rangir. If they survived, it was by his will and his will alone. Our place was simply as messengers, illuminating his word amidst holy flames. Placing my hand upon Hati's metallic form as her flames of crimson flew forth in bursts, I held no doubt in my duty, reassuring the ancient beast that we were but our Lord's guiding hands. And that was when I heard her voice echo through my helm.

"Belay the orders?" I questioned in silence, Hati reacting to my thighs as i squeezed them against the saddle for her to stop. "Wasnt that what i was doing? Leaving the weak in our Lord's hands while fleshing out the strong? Her words made no sense, our beloved Manda'lor."

"Ignore her words. Thin the herd Dar'Manda." I heard his voice speak as I felt his grasp through my protective pauldron. "Allow my flames to cleanse the souls of the weak so that they may join me in the afterlife and leave the strong to grow in their desire for revenge."

"But what of Manda'lor's orders? Isn't she your holy messenger, your voice among our people?" I questioned, feeling an uneasy presence drop upon my conciousness as I questioned both intents. "You chose her as your leader. That is why you chose me to retrieve the Helm ot Mandalore the First for her."

"Forget her for now. She is being influenced by outsiders, those whom wish to control my holy crusade as their own." The voice retorted, a raise in its tone echoing of rage and displeasure. "You are the one who I chose to be my hands. You are the one I chose to grant those of Arasuum salvation. You are my Dar'Manda, and you will obey."

"But she is Manda'lore. She is your voice, your eyes, your mortal form upon the Galaxy. I cannot ignore your will." I responded, my mind clouded and torn by what was being said, what was being told. "I cannot and will not disobey my Manda'lor, even if what you say is true. She is your chosen messiah."

"Enough!" The voice shouted, the echo of enraged spit flying through its lips as it spoke, my own anger beginning to boil as the confusing began to tear at me, causing me to wonder if it was even Kad Ha'rangir that I had been following all along. "You will do as commanded Dar'Manda!"

As I settled Hati just east of the village, nestling the beast among a grouping of trees, I dismounted her and told her to wait as I gazed off into the flaming distance, Terra's words echoing in my mind as well as those of the voice that I myself had been hearing and believing for so long. Who was I to truly trust? I was Dar'Manda, soulless, and only through this holy crusade could I find my place in the afterlife. But to be Mandalorian, to know the tenants, was to follow Manda'lor without question. I had trusted this voice to be Kad Ha'rangir, and it had proven its self to be true until now, as I doubted Kad Ha'rangir would forsake his chosen one.

Shaking the doubt from my mind, I knew of only one way to get to the bottom of this. If this being was truly was Kad Ha'rangir and what he said was true, then she would become as I, and he would claim her life through battle. But if he wasn't, she would survive and I would know my answer. Unsheathing my blades and disappearing into the darkened forest, I spoke but a lingering line as I went to join the others.

"Dar'Manda or not, i will not disobey my Manda'lore or her wishes. If you have a problem with this, then claim my soul."

Edited by Dar'Manda

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Formally Known as Hunter Of Shadows/Dark

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Ah, here came the Imperials. Misled, lost. An eventuality Kain had prepared for. As the Imperials began to take positions, legions of droid fighters exited the transitory mists near the Gallifrey system, swarming to intercept. Like a great necromancer of old, Kain gave a simple digital command, and buried battle droids of all make and model began to activate in a staggered fashion, rising from the nearby soil to engage the troops on the ground. Chaos was the goal here; disruption to establish a tactical foothold. These forces would hamper and harass, but in the end they would be scrap. All Kain needed, however, was an opportunity.

A directed message beamed directly to Terra's comm unit, the closest Mandalorian commanding field unit, words for her alone to hear:

"You come to me, hungry for battle. You seek a dead god, who brî͒͒̃ͭngs death and revels in pain̛ͦ͋͒͒̄̐. Oh yes, Mandalorian, I have heard of your conques͎͖̦̻̠̭t and so-called glory. We ma̡̝̯̗͇y serve the same master, but we are n̦͎̹̬ot allies. And yet, I offer thì̱̹̳͔͉̗s gift. If conflict is what͓̖͔͇̟̞̯ you desire, then conflict y͉̺͔̫̻̥ou shall have."

And from his seat, Kain surveyed all before him through various feeds, his networked senses providing ample information to detect what he needed to. All there was left to do was wait. The trap was laid, the pieces in place.

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Like my posts? Google "zalgo font."

If you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, have some taste.
Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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Lix Tetrax touched down with the grace of a bantha sliding down a sand dune, that was to say, the landing was swift, heavy, and shook the ground with the impact. And from its dark back, the Mandalorian Crusader Rose dropped down to land behind before the threshold of the facility. Her hand came up and began to move in silence, a code that her AI knew well.

"Lix, give us overwatch."

As you wish mistress, sensors indicate a possible imperial strikeforce heading this way, they are not banking to engage our forces.

Her hands began to dance again in return, her shoulders also adjusting with each gesture to give emphasis.

Then the dance of blasters will commence after the kill. Lix give us firing vectors should we need them, and hold the doorway if a firefight erupts. We are not firing first, not until their intentions are clear. The AI comes first, and if the imperial remnant wants to boogey later we will give them that pleasure.

The AI inhabiting her metal angel gave its acknowledgement and the orange light of its optics looked back towards the sky as She bounded from her place to stand beside her Mandalore. This time speaking in soft rushed basic instead of communicating through the kinetic movements of the lorrdians. Though her hands did speak along as was often the case of those who spoke kinetic languages.

“Imperials Mand’alor. Though hostile intent is not known.”

She shouldered her T-21b with its viper attachment and her HUD picked up its reticle, superimposing it over the huddled masses within the facility.

Movement. Sky and Air. Trap. Tin soldiers commanded by the Void.

No Honour in fighting tin robots.

Rose let the air hiss past her teeth in a low whistle. “Lix informs of multiple non imperial contacts. Droid. Controlled by the Void.” She used the term ‘Void’, which the soldiers of Mandalore’s army had used to refer to the unknown KAIN. “Switching to IR overview and dropping cover.” She dropped into a crouch and scanned the entrance to the structure from within, looking for the hulking shapes of whatever the void had brought them to parlay with her viper attachment letting loose two smoke grenades which filled the entrance with dark black smoke that hung in the listless air. 

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Behold the Rose of Sharon is burning in the valley 

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Imperials.

Chimeric, dilated eyes narrowed. As the word slipped through her god-hazed mind, her painted lips were touched with a sardonic twist. Imperials, so consumed by efficiency and order. They did not embrace the chaos. They were godless in their efficacy, untouched by the entropy of the natural. They were unblessed by it. Dereliction holds the darkest spirits. The spirits of life.

…Do they not know? Do they not wish to dance under the moon, where drums are roaring and water whispers?

Terra’s body jerked rhythmically to the pounding heartbeat in her ears. Lix’s overwatch fed approaching Imperial troops into her HUD, but it went unnoticed. The unmatched eyes of Mandalore the Heartless were upon her prize. A great hulk of metal upon a throne of rust, surrounded by frightened children and old women. Honorless.

The words were as corrupted as it birthed sound into her mind. Her darkmetal teeth ground together with irritation as she danced closer, her mouth filling with the burning touch of sparks.

…You come to me, hungry for battle. You seek a dead god, who brî͒͒̃ͭngs death and revels in pain̛ͦ͋͒͒̄̐.

Her mouth formed the words of her own breathless battlesong, the band of bronze on her helm catching the light of the warehouse and scattering the runic carvings about the shelving and walls. It was as though the blessings of the gods were marked in flame around her.

…Oh yes, Mandalorian…

The corrupted beast spoke of her people so calmly, as if he had fought her kind before. Countless Mandalorians had fought and died in the conflicts of this galaxy, but this KAIN had never matched against a Crusader. Never a true servant of the God of the hanged. Never a wolfspeaker. Her breathing became faster. Her skin thrummed with the heat of war.  

…I have heard of your conques͎͖̦̻̠̭t and so-called glory. We ma̡̝̯̗͇y serve the same master, but we are n̦͎̹̬ot allies. And yet, I offer thì̱̹̳͔͉̗s gift. If conflict is what͓̖͔͇̟̞̯ you desire, then conflict y͉̺͔̫̻̥ou shall have…

Terra uttered no language. No word of response. Only a caustic, wordless, inhumane shriek cracked the air, causing the children and women to join in a chorus of horror. An entirely different voice crept from the small woman’s body, demonically cruel in its tone.

“Honorless. Pitiful coward… Enthroned within the innocence of children.”

 A small beam of light came from her shoulder, zeroing on the creature’s chest. It was a laser designator which would broadcast targeting data to all units in the field, Mandalorian and Imperial alike. With the targeting information would come her bounty-hunting credentials, as well as a hiring fee for all troops in the field. They were not mercenaries, but the battle looked grim for either side. It would be best for her people to fight the droid threat together. The Imperials would need the unexpected ally in the fight to come.

Terra laughed then, her voice still not her own. The laugh echoed across the warehouse. The battlerifle swept to a firing position as imperial breaching charges detonated.

“Match yourself against my bersærkergang if you can, KAIN.”

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Terra

To the Death...

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The Darkness was a place of embrace, a void in which all were equal. Yet for those of my kind, it was the only life we knew. We could pretend to walk within the light among the others, feel the warmth of it upon our skin. But we always remained forever in our eternal darkness, unable to see what we felt, tasted, touched, or smelt. And that darkness is what we called home, for in that darkness, we could truly see. 

I held no need for a HUD within my helm, or sensors to alert me. No. I could see in ways very few could ever dream to envision, and very few things escaped my sight. This was why I was considered Dar'Manda, a soulless being incapable of redemption because i saw through what many of my ilk feared or disdained for thousands of millennia. I was touched by the Force. But this was also a gift, whether by the hand of Kad Ha'rangir or by fate, and I had long made my peace with it. After all, I once held the title that Terra now held. And now, I held promise of an afterlife by that very defining gift, the last of my Clan, a Dar'Manda with a soul. Unsheathing my blade, I knew what laid ahead.

Whether the Imperials needed my help or not, I stepped forward from the shadows that had bound me, a hunter of the void, a beast of the darkness, and my blades stood ready to not defend them, but join them in what they faced upon the ground. I was a Master of War, born and bred for that singular purpose, and in the here and now, it called to the soul that resonated within me like the drums of war signaling the beating of death. Beneath the moonlight that glimmered across the twin blades, I charged forth with a roar that echoed with the power that flowed through me since the day I was born. And as the first of many stood against me fell, the mixture of hydrolic fluid and oil spraying across my armored form, I signalled my aid to those I stood amidst. It was their choice to define me as friend or foe, only I wouldn't wait for their approval as I charged toward the next that stood to take the place of the first, each falling to my blades as the tempered beskar carved their metallic forms up like filets and sliced into their mimicking veins.

They were but fodder to their Master, and as such, I would treat them as so, all the while repeating the same rythmatic phrase. "For Manda'lor! For Kad Ha'rangir! For Dar'Manda!"

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Formally Known as Hunter Of Shadows/Dark

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Chaos erupted out of the ground in the form of scavenged battle droids repurposed by Kain for his schemes. There seemed to be little in the way of coordination or anything resembling a directed push towards an objective, which ran contrary to the profile on HVT-1, but maybe blocking communications galaxy wide had pushed him to the edge of his limits in terms of processing power. Up above, their air support was engaged in its own sortie against enemy fighters.

The initial confusion of the attack had claimed several casualties, but once the element of surprise was lost the stormtroopers were able to quickly reform behind cover and fire directed counter volleys. Naitan’s squad was not at all subtly keeping him off of the fire line, and rather than disrupt their formation he shouldered his rifle and drew his EC-17 while monitoring his scanner and calling out targets. Getting people killed over a tantrum about getting benched would prove nothing except that he didn’t belong.

The attack was further blunted by the arrival of a small force of Mandalorian mercenaries. Command hadn’t hired them, but they were likely Protectors desperately trying to salvage their reputation after the terror attack on Coruscant by a Mandalorian death cult. It seemed like his homeworld couldn’t make it through a year without some sort of terrorist attack or full scale battle.

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Kain studied the short Mandalorian in the span between heartbeats when she leveled her weapon at him. A quick verification identified her as she broadcast her credentials, as well as the rest of the Mandalorians present. They had thrown their lot in with the Imperials, an unexpected move given recent galactic events. He was cutting it close, but the time for smoke and mirrors was quickly drawing to a close. However, he still had one last card to play, a gambit for time. He might lose this battle, but he would win the war, and not one of them would knew what hit them in the coming storm.

Using the open comms ports on her helmet, Kain fed the girl who had fashioned herself Mand'alor data that would cause her to pause. In rapid succession, each and every person in the crowd around Terra had their identification information fed through her HUD's target tracking programs. It was not a malicious attack, merely a benign feed of information. He wanted Terra to know their names.

And also that each of them had a small bomb surgically implanted in their necks, set to go off if Kain suddenly became inoperable. 

The bombs were, of course, nonexistant. But the data he fed her was masterfully crafted, and the only real way to tell if the crowd really was set to explode would be to surgically inspect them. Pawns bluffing as knights and rooks, really, but he only needed a moment longer...

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Terra’s chimeric eyes narrowed as the flood of information from her target was broadcast over her HUD. The hulk of rust has set a trap for those that wished to oppose him. A triggerpoint, one that would result in the deaths of countless innocent women and children. The HUD highlighted each of the potential victims as her eyes flashed over them.

A huddled girl, weeping in the arms of a mother.

Ben’tyra: Twi’lek: Age 9 Standard Years.

Ful’Tyra: Twi’lek: Age 31 Standard Years

Darkmetal teeth flashed sparks as they ground together. The targeting laser held its point on the beast of rust, unwavering as the Mandalorian danced. A group of children curled into positions of fear, trembling against the unforgiving metal decking.

Haubart Brakbell: Human: Age 6 Standard Years

Nevbell Aeschee: Rodian: Age 4 Standard Years

Craug Renshaw: Shistivan: Age 5 Standard Years

Tera brought her gaze back to the target. To Kain. She muttered a few, chittering, animalistic utterances. They lacked confusion, they were bereft of care. The harsh, grating voice returned, its words cruel, unyielding.

“You cover yourself in innocent blood…”

Terra let her body whirl into crowd, her boots avoiding the small forms, the outstretched and trembling hands. The cries for help.

“You think our people Jeedai, Kain?”

Mandalore the Heartless settled her battlerifle into a well-practiced firing position, letting her dance spin her through the crowd of bodies. She skipped over the huddled forms without letting the rifle drop. Her HUD confirmed a three-round burst. Her HUD calculated time-to-target, and a proper firing angle upon the beast of rust.

“That we are so bound by honor that we care that…”

A foot fell and child shrieked over a shattered wrist. All the eyes in the room focused on her, the battle that raged outside forgotten.

“Children die with you?”

The rifle barked its bitter chorus, spitting fire into the already burning night

Terra

To the Death...

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Kain could do nothing but watch. His body was relatively immobilized due to the networked hookups, and his work in the digital realm was of such importance that he dare not enter the battlefield himself. The attack itself of the battle droids and droid starfighters was little more than smoke and mirrors, set up as a fail safe to buy him time. And time it had bought him, but not quite enough.

Seconds. He was mere seconds from establishing the networked system needed to ensure the galaxy would remain in the technological stone age, turning technology against owner in a beautifully ironic bloodbath. After this, security protocols would tighten, he would not have another chance. Three. Terra stepped on a toddler's outstretched wrist, causing it to scream in anguish. Two. She took aim, the systems in her suit ensuring her shot would ring true. It was far too late to attempt a hack to throw them off. Kain was fast and could compile the virus in microseconds, but her own system run times were far too slow to enact the proper measures the virus dictated. So why bother? Kain now had access to certain other resources, assets that would help him in his silent war. The 'death' of this instance of him was ultimately meaningless, it was his work that was important. He would recompile, and resume his work. Perhaps not on this failed project, but on another front. There were, after all, so many to choose from... Terra's finger squeezed the trigger.

On-

The last recorded telemetry Kain's optical sensors processed was the acids and electrical sparks bursting from the power unit located in his chest. With an electronic sigh, the systems in the warehouse slowly flickered off and died. The battle droids and fighters, on a preprogrammed suicide protocol, began exploding one by one. At this point, however, the enemy had managed to form rough battle lines, and the explosions mostly rocked their own ranks. Kain himself exploded as a small charge within him went off, meant to mostly scrap his hardware, ensuring any enemy would have a difficult time attempting to reassemble him, much less recompile his coding.

The organics had won this day. But it would not be the last victory they would need to achieve. Not by a long shot.

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Disappointment.

The being had spoken as a god-touched. Roared the defiance of hell as a god in its own right. Taken down the galaxy’s holonet transceivers, caused galactic chaos. It had sung of higher dreams, of indomitable will. What was its purpose?  

Disappointment

The armor might as well have been made from flimsiplast, and her bullets had struck true. Terra had watched the hulk of rust be thrown back from its throne, cast down in an explosion that had scattered its pieces as shrapnel. She knelt, picking up the head of the prideful creature and cradling it in her arms. She hooked her armor’s powercore to the processor for only an instant, desiring to speak once more as she removed her buy’ce. If it could hear her above the chaos of screaming children, it would hear the gravelly voice of Mandalore the Heartless. Her painted lips caressed the metallic flesh

“No one can stand against Kad Ha’rangir.”

She stood then, her voice pitching high to beastial howl of victory. Her datapad chimed with stolen data. She had brought the false god low, smashing its hopes and dreams into the abyss of hell. Her chimeric eyes were dilated, and her skin was flushed. Her breathing raged in panting gasps. The women and children looked upon her in a chaotic stupor. Their tormentor was dead, scattered in smoldering ruin about them.

“Follow.”

Terra whistled, and her mind began to flash with the scenes of chaos that had been the Mandalorian civil war. She had slaughtered so many children like these. It had brought her no honor. Disgrace was the only offering to Kad Ha’rangir she had made then. They would become warriors. They would never be weak enough the be captured again.

The children followed her from the great warehouse like a crowd of whimpering and crying mongrels. Terra began to sing as she saw lines of stormtroopers, a comforting song of war. She hoped it would soothe the tears. It was in Mando’a and she sang it with the stark battle-rage of her warrior people

…Wolf-skinned we are called, berserkers, you tasters of blood.

Her teenage appearance would be offsetting to the Imperials, but she approached them anyway. Terra’s reconstructed flesh was different then when she had been one of the most wanted terrorists in the galaxy. She continued her song as she approached a deathtrooper, (DRASKA) giving him a demonic grin.

…Heathen-devils yet unequalled, deserters of the masterless…

Terra pressed the head of KAIN into the deathtrooper’s hands and gazed into his faceplate with her chimeric eyes. Only her reflection glared back, brown hair in a plait, surrounded by scared children. She was unsettled by his gaze, and held her hands out, palms upwards. The universal sign of disarmament. She let the song trail off, rose to her tip-toes, and planted a light kiss on the man’s faceplate.

“Oya”

She stepped back and let out a whooping shriek and began to dance and shudder as Tros landed his picket ships around them. The children ran aboard as did the Mandalorians without Basilisks. Terra gave the deathtrooper another demonic smile, flashing her darkmetal teeth and slapped the buy’ce over her head.  The copper circlet across the dark armor was the only symbol of her command. She scrambled into Hades’ saddle, feeling the familiarity of the leather against her armored legs. The ships left Hapes quickly, leaving the Imperials to sort through the scraps. They would go to Chandrila after several microjumps. They had new soldiers to train, and a Crusade to pursue.

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Terra

To the Death...

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  • 1 year later...

Within the Transitory Mists a rebel alliance fleet lurked. Formed from the ashes of the old galactic alliance and the infantine imperial remnant, the battle fleet looked more like a garish holo display in a manufacturer's conference than any kind of unified command. The leading ship was an aged but intimidating imperial II Star destroyer, painted a dark ominous black, and with multiple hull sections having been replated and repainted, the capital ship showed its many battle scars. After that chip came the myriad of others, Mon Calamari starships with their bulbous aquatic lines, Taipani frigates trailed, contrasting with their harsh lines and even harsher blue and yellow paint schemes. Then came the ever-present Corvette swarm. Mostly Corellian, but many eximperial Corvettes and frigates as well, rounding out the mess. 

 

Such was the rebel alliance fleet when they crossed the borders into sovereign space of the Hapan warlords. They were treated cordially but cautiously. Forbidden to enter the inner territories of the rifle worlds or set foot in the Crystal palace, they were relegated to the great defensive platforms. Where they met the delegations of the Hapan Prince. It would be here that the hope of the rebellion could be rekindled. 

 

While they waited The ex-empress Raven stood in the medical wing, holding a silver locket in her hand. She talked with the medical personnel before surrendering the locket to their technicians for DNA harvesting. 

 

 

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Suddenly, in their meditations- Vos stiffened and rose to his feet. As he did not engage the girl sitting across from him, she remained stocily in place. Trying to feel the Force as her master did, and what had happened that he was suddenly on edge. Only a few seconds after he left the common room, he gasped audibly- and Pim opened her one eye. 

 

His footsteps were rapid and fueled with purpose and went from his cabin to the bridge- they immediately dropped out of hyperspace. The vibrations in the floor told her that- and that they reentered a few moments later in a different direction. Like as if they made a hard left turn. 

 

Vos stode into the common room, and resumed his meditation pose. Pim had closed her eyes just before he had come back into the room, so that she could appear to have been focused on nothing more than the meditation. 

 

There was a loud, hollow, “klunk” from in front of her and there was a- she gasped as she realized she was looking at a Jedi Holocron. After a moment of study, she blinked and tilted her head- it was active. Pulsating with Force energy. 

 

“Listen.” Vos said, softly. “Close your eyes, and listen.”

 

Following instruction she wanted to react in typical teenage fascination- in her mind she hollered “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaattttt!”

 

“What is it saying?” his smooth voice asked. 

 

She listened intently, it was saying something but so low she couldn’t discern what the words actually were. But after a moment… The left turn suddenly made sense. 

 

Pim locked gazes with Vos and he shrugged- her question was obvious. Why would they go to Hapes when they were on their own mission? 

 

“Master, I don’t understand why we’re going there instead of chasing down that gang.”

 

Tobias stood up, taking the holocron with him and placing it on the table and helped Pim to her feet. 

 

“Signs are important- and the maker of this holocron trained me, briefly- I watched his murder over and over. This is a sign from the Force- and we have to listen. I have to listen. This is exactly the kind of thing I wish I had known years ago. You already know all this- I’ve taught you the basics.”

 

Then she asked the only question she could- and accepted the fact that this holocron was important and the message was to be listened to. She nodded, she understood what she was going to- and returned to her cabin to meditate with her crystal and the pieces of her new lightsaber. 

 

 

A few hours later they were inside the Hapes Cluster, surrounded by the Rebel Fleet. An uneasy feeling rolled through Tobias’s belly- but felt a familiar presence on the surface. Well, several pressences but this one- he tried to locate her to the best of his ships abilities. Tobias scratched his bare chin, pondering the situation. 

 

“Take us in- Pim and I are heading here to this same facility. It seems we’re playing a long shot chance game. I hope it works out.”

 

Though many security and other checkpoints- Tobias and his padawan made their way closer to his old acquaintance. Suddenly- he remembered the last time he had seen her and shivered. A dark memory he would love to spend more time brooding about but there was the Medical Wing- and there was the former empress herself- Raven. 

 

His left arm in a sling, a satchel slung across his body, walking with a cane in his right hand, the usual appearance for the Jedi Master. There was a cloth wrap around his head, covering his eyes- and the brands in his skin- plus the fact he was wearing Jedi Robes versus his usual scoundrel attire, Vos had changed in the year since the Black Sun Station battle. 

 

Pim, in apprentice robes and her blonde hair pulled back into a bun on her head; she was obviously a young Zabrak. Two lightsabers hung from her utility belt- and her whole body language screamed that she was not used to these situations. 

 

The duo entered the wing side by side, paused long enough for Pim to scan the room and find the VIP that they were here to meet. When Vos took a step in her direction, Pim knew he found her as well. She followed beside him, the loyal apprentice. He approached but not close enough where he signaled he was a threat to whatever security she had around. In a rough, yet melodic voice Vos called to Raven. “I’m happy to see you’re up and about, Miss. I…” He drifted off, phrasing the next part as he went. “I... was asked to bring this to you.” Vos held out his bag so that the Jedi Holocron was visible, enough for Raven to identify if she knew what it was. 

 

Pim almost reacted to her master saying he was happy to see this person up and such, considering he was blind. She remained professional- quiet and out of the way. 

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Raven watched with some degree of fascination as the technicians retrieved the tuft of fur from the locket and put it into their extraction machine. A centrifuge device that helped prepare the DNA from the fur for analysis. One of the men kindly handed her back the silver locket and she clasped it furiously in her hand. The lid of the locket clicked open in under the pressure, then clicked closed again when she adjusted her squeeze.

 

“Am I doing the right thing Vinalian?” 

 

The silence that returned to her was offsetting, but Raven knew it really meant the woman was adjusting her words to fit the situation. She cut the Imperial Exorcist off when she turned about and stared the woman in the loose fitting silver masque that covered her miralukan eyes. 

 

“I know that the seers told me that he needed to return, that the force ached for him. But what do you think?” 

 

A glimmer of a smile streaked across Cassandra Vinalian’s face.  

 

“I think mistress, that you need to do what you think is best.” 

 

Raven narrowed her eyes at the Imperial Exorcist then sighed. But the expression on the woman’s face told her that there was decidedly someone behind her, so Raven spun on a heel and came face to face with Tobias Vos. She let a smile spread across her face and she touched a gloved hand to the silver tiara on her forehead as a sign of respect, inclining her torso in a half bow. 

 

“Master Vos!” They had some history of disagreement, but she did not dislike the man and rather respected him for his course of action he had taken after dark sun. “I am pleased to see you here, and again I must thank you for the rescue.” She smiled again and took the proffered device, looking at it with a quizzical brow and a knowing smile before turning her eyes on Pim. “And you must be his apprentice! Welcome and a pleasure to meet you young Jedi. I am the Empress of the old imperial remnant, but you may call me Raven.”

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Vos cleared his throat, an embarrassed tone tinted his next words. “Yes, it’s... good You’re back in action. This is my apprentice, Pim Tusrock.” He stopped and closed his bag after Raven took the holocron. 
 

Pim bowed at the proper moment, blushing and remaining silent. Her knees were shaking she was so nervous, but she remained calm on the exterior. 

 

Vos looked around at the rest of the ward, or at least his head circled the room- his eyes still had the wrap around them. He lowered his voice- “Raven, are you doing what I think you’re doing?” He whispered to the Imperial. This time, his tone was perfectly neutral. 
 

 

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A tired smile flashed across Raven’s face before fading into the firm set of her jaw. 

 

“Officially I am on a diplomatic mission to the Queen Mother, but unofficially…” She looked down at the locket in her hand then hurriedly stuffed it back into a pouch on her belt before continuing. “I am here to bring back a fallen Knight.” She looked up at Tobias with a mix of defiance and grim determination. “We need every man we can, and if the Sith were to come to Nar Shaddaa…” She let the sentence trail off into nothing, everyone knew the implication if the Sith attacked. It was no bastion world. 

 

She sighed. “Do you think I error Master Vos?” 

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Captain Esterhazy stood watching the diligent work of the medical teams. Cloning was no unknown dark art, many planets had such facilities for the rich and the aristocracy. And Hapes was no exception, though the Esterhazy’s had never had the liquid credits to attempt such an opulent waste of credits. And so the tanks stood as a bastion of the upper nobility, at least in Eleanor’s eyes.

 

Her opinion didn’t much change as the cloning team slowly opened the tank that they had been working on and slowly extracted what looked like a large, bipedal, wet carpet from the tank, quickly hooking him up to life support equipment. What had they cloned? Who? And why did the Rebel alliance seem so interested? They were here to acquire support and military assistance, but the only thing the Empress seemed interested in was the actions of the cloning team. Eleanor raised a white eyebrow and leaned against the sterile wall, waiting for whenever the Queen Mother would deign to bring herself to this isolated outpost.

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It started off with some tension at first, almost like putting on something that was just too tight. It alerted Kirlocca to the change, a change he wasn’t really sure he wanted or was ready for. Pain, memories and restrictions were being placed upon him. While he knew what was happening, he didn’t really think that it would feel the way it did. He was being brought back to life. Somehow, he hadn’t expected for anyone to even attempt it, not unless there were desperate times. But wait, I had known the state of the galaxy… why can’t I know that now? It was a question that was beginning to burn within him. He was going from being a part of the living Force, to only being able to feel the Force. He was indeed being brought back to life, but by whom? And why?

 

His sight blurred for a brief second or two, and then all he could see was white. It was warm, yet cold. Feelings he hadn’t felt in forever. He was having a hard time figuring out what he was feeling again. The light was warm, yes, it was a light and it was warm. The cold feeling was his body. He was cold and wet. No, he wasn’t wet. He was… he wasn’t sure. What was that feeling? Air. He could smell, but he didn’t know what it was that he was smelling. It was all tension, but to a passing note. He willed himself to keep his eyes closed until he could feel the touch in the Force to wake up fully. It was all that he could do. 

 

Breathe, in and out…. Breathe… Just... breathe. Raven? Did he feel her? Slowly, the Wookiee began to open his eyes. His vision was blurred and could’t see. He tried to move, but couldn’t. Muscle memory was still coming back to him. Things just felt off, except for the Force. I guess it was how I used to be, fully dependent upon the Force. So I must return to that state. Re-closing his eyes, Kirlocca’s own voice began as best as it could. 

 

<< I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. >>

 

Kirlocca began to attempt to open his eyes again. His eyesight was still blurred, but nowhere near as much as before. His muscles were weak, but responding to his commands. He could now fully feel within the Force presences he had once felt before. He knew them, yet it was not as they were before. Emotions started to creep in-and they overwhelmed him in the strangest of ways. They didn’t flood back, but they did indeed come back. It was a process that worried him, to have everything that tied him down slowly coming back as his full freedom within the Force was slowly being taken away. And for that, he needed to will himself back into a position to speak clearly, but he wasn't sure if he could yet. So instead he reached out in the Force and connected with those of whom he had felt before. 

 

... Raven... Tobias...

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The question was a break in Tobias's mental image of the Imperial Head of State- and he took a moment to think on it. There were several ways to react of course, but what which reaction would be most productive? Letting part of his mind wander to relax in the flow of the Force energies around them. Part of him was like a bobber on a fishing line- floating with the current and seeing where things took them. 

 

He sighed and looked around, despite his lack of vision, then turned his head right back to Raven. "Some beings are willing to come back, some are not. The Force put you here- guided you to this exact moment in time and space to act on what you want to do. As it happens- I was told to be here and give that holocron to you to help you do what you are doing. I would be lying if I am not eager to see how this plays out. I miss him as well... I'd probably do the same thing if Adenna..." He paused suddenly knowing he shouldn't have said that- especially in the presence of Pim. The girls aura shifted as she digested what she heard. Vos recovered himself and rephrased the sentence. "I'd probably do the same thing if I were in your position." He retraced his previous sentence structure rewording it to be a little more... was professional the right word? Best not to overthink it... Smiling, trying to put warmth into his smile because he would do the same for Adenna. 

 

But then- there was a torrent of Force energies that swirled around him- Kirlocca. Shivers ran through his bones as his skin turned to gooseflesh. He felt the different kinds of energies around the fresh body pulling a Force entity to it. It was a volatile exchange but it was glorious- and a tad frightening. 

 

Tobias knew what the wookiee was feeling- and lent him some comfort through the Force, filtering it so that none of Tobias's pain would touch Kirlocca. Suddenly, he realized how much of a transformation he himself had undergone since he and Kirlocca last spoke to each other on Carida. That seemed like such a eon ago now... Tobias was a little calmer, a little bolder, Force brands over the majority of his body, freshly shaved face, cloth covering his blind eyes, and wearing Jedi Master Robes(finally). The Jedi bowed to his comrade, flooding his presence with warmth and encouragement. Tobias would have spoke to him- but knew Raven should speak to Kirlocca- it was she who orchestrated his return, Tobias was just there to pass along Kirlocca's holocron- and once he did the process of Kirlocca being back in this realm was now a reality. 

 

With satisfaction, he noted by the ruffling of fabric on fabric that Pim had also bowed to the Wookiee, as her master had done. He hadn't told her much of who Kirlocca was, or what he meant to Tobias. Straightening up, he shifted his arm in his sling and took a subtle step back to give him and Raven some extra space. 

 

 

 

 

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A twinge in the force began to blossom in the body that lay before them. The powerful force spirit had been called home, and Raven could feel her heart racing with a mixture of awe and joy. She was not ashamed of the grin she wore nor the tears the itched at the corners of her eyes. What she had once thought ended by an assassin’s blade had been remade, though she was not confident he would be fully aware of himself or even his past she rejoiced for it. 

 

The nervous twitch of her black gloved hand ceased as she brought it to cover her mouth as she firmly felt him in the force. The tears came freely now, streaking ugly dark lines from her makeup that she wiped away with a hem of her sleeve. It was embarrassing to be crying, especially in front of so many people she deeply respected. But she did not care. When one of the medics beckoned to her, she glanced at Tobias and mouthed a ‘thank you,’ before walking to the side of the metal medical bed he had been placed onto. 

 

She reached out a hand and firmly pressed it onto one of his hands. Letting her presence extend to touch his as her hand did. Her voice was strained with the tears,

 

“I am here.”

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Everything was moving towards the right direction of him regaining control over his body. The Force was helping beyond what he remembered, yet his own thoughts and memories were fuzzy and not fully connected. Some things he knew, like within the Force the presence of Raven and Tobias. Her voice didn't sound the way he remembered it, yet her touch did. Even as he could feel her touch, her hands on top of his paws, he was willing the Force to help him open his eyes. Yet even before that, he was able to muster words, or rather, a word out to both her and Tobias. 

 

<< Why? >>

 

He didn't understand why he was back amongst the living. What was known to him while one with the Force has now departed. Only his prior memories remained, along with some feelings and extremely vague ideas of what had transpired during his time not physically apart of the galaxy. He could only assume that he would get a full debrief on why. As his eyes fully opened, he could see nothing but Raven's eyes, fighting in vain to hold back tears. He turned his paw over to give her hand a squeeze. 

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As the empress turned, Pim whispered into Tobias’s ear. Internally, he chuckled. While he was the top tracker and seeker within the Order, he still was blind to a few things. Straightening, he made sure to nod at the pair and so the pair left Kirlocca and Raven to become reacquainted with one another.

 

The whole way back to The Prism, Tobias just zoned out and walked back to the ship.

 

~~~

 

Today was a very weird day, Pim was replaying everything up until now from when her Master adjusted course while they were on their way to some event. She honestly couldn’t remember, but it involved animals. There was an obvious tension in the room and thank goodness Tobias had decided to leave. He had let slip something he hadn’t touched on yet. He had called the Grandmaster by her first name. They had to be close, she was starting to read her master better. Something about this had gotten him flustered, big time. It wasn’t her place to ask questions- and so she was quiet and followed him back through the station.

 

 It had Sounded like a long journey but it was only a few minutes away from the medical center. There, she was tasked with disassembling and reassembling her lightsaber. Her master bet her she couldn’t do it in under ten minutes- and if she did, he’d do the dishes for a week. If under six, he’d do it for a month. Silly challenges were a bit fun, it formed a partnership faster. Pim has been worried, but she liked her master and would be there when he opened back up. 

 

She knelt in the common room and started practicing.

 

~~~

 

Vos was unnerved- but instead of the usual meditation- he went into the little work area and started to work on the exo-skeleton he was building. A frame to augment the wearers running, speed, and lifting capacity. More for himself and his knee, but possibly to help those hurt in the campaign the Sith were waging. And thinking ahead- with the currents he’s been feeling through the Force, these would come in handy… Sadly…

 

Then he realized his eyes were blind- and so- he started to utilize the Force to work the metal and wires.

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Raven let her hand linger in his paw as she felt the tears dripping down her cheeks. She nodded and furiously wiped at the tears with her gloved hand.  Before willing herself to speak past the emotion. 

 

“Because we need you.” 

 

It was the truth, nothing had gone right since his death, and perhaps that was part of the reason she had brought him back. Kuat, Carida, Coruscant. Not to mention Onderon, Chandrilla, and who knew how many other planets in the core. All had fallen under the sway of the Sith Empire. All were trapped in the hand of tyranny, and there were so few left to oppose them. But her simple answer was not enough, so she sat down on one of the rolling chairs beside his bed. 

 

“The Imperial Remnant and the Galactic Alliance are no more, Darex, all the others are dead. Coruscant and the core are taken by the Sith Empire. And we are in hiding.” 

 

She looked up to the raised eyebrow of the Imperial Exorcist who stood several paces back and sighed. 

 

“But you need rest and recovery, and I am not helping things.”

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There was something inside the Force calling to him, even here inside the star cluster of Hapes. He had to return to Nar Shaddaa... Multiple strands of Force energy pulling him back off the station. There was no other way around it- he had to answer the call of the Force. Judging by the colors and vibrations of the flow- he needed to follow the flow. Granted, there were stands holding him here- but these new ones pulled him away. Even his meditation as affected by these issues. The situations in his mind as he reached out to the Force was something akin to someone grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. The figure was almost recognizable- after the fifth time he saw the figure. 

 

Tobias typed out a message to Raven and Kirlocca, on his old comm line. He would give them some time- but he bid them to come to Nar Shaddaa. Then a few moments later- the ship shot back into hyperspace. Leaving behind a  Force beacon of happiness and strength to Kirlocca; Vos was happy to see him back and strength for getting used to his new reality. 

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Kirlocca nodded his head, with some weak senses of what was going on around him. He could feel the Force slowly helping him recover, and he was getting stronger as time went on. With a heavy sigh, he turned and looked at the image of Raven, which was becoming less blurred. Her entire face was now clear to him outside of just her eyes. 

 

<< You don't need to go. Surprisingly the Force is much stronger than what I remembered it... >>

 

Kirlocca now managed to pull himself to sit upright. He could feel within the Force that Tobias was departing the planet now. He felt Raven more strongly and could feel her uncertainty in the entire situation. Her thoughts felt like a swirling storm of emotions. He didn't need the Force though to tell him what was on her mind. 

 

<< Don't put yourself through those emotions. I know why, I understand... and I think I would have done the same thing. >>

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