Deception of the Jedi - An Invite Training RO

Shikyo Keibatsu

04-11-2011 13:44:54

Area Unknown
Misahide Castle
Kyataru


It was an area specifically built for the attacks against the Suudou Bodai. The command and control center was filled with technologies that, though not as modern as the ones in New Republic headquarters, were more than sufficient to assess and hunt down the threats that dared to rear their ugly heads towards the Keibatsu. Kyouhei Katsuhide, the newly named Nihilgenia commander, sat opposite of his long time comrade-in-arm and leader, tired and frustrated yet refusing to reveal anything that would give his emotions away.

Shikyo did not need to use the Force to understand his friend's frustration. There were subtle hints and clues leading to the possible emergence of someone who should have died long ago. Not only did a ghost walk amongst them but there was word of potential uprisings coming from her mere presence. Even though the documents told numerous stories, the empty grave that resided under the headstone of Sakuya Koyotai spoke volumes enough. There had been no severe storms that could have up-heaved the grave, no wars that caused misplaced markers. That grave was meant to be empty. At first, the action brought great turmoil within the Elder but as he saw the near flawless casket, he had no doubts in his mind, no conscience to silence.

His beloved had betrayed him and had become one with the Jedi.

As he continued to look over the information before him, there were two things that continued to bother the Elder Krath. One, she would appear in areas for only a couple of days or more before disappearing. Two, she had found her way into the Orian system. It didn't take long for the Herald to realize that using Kyataran resources were counterproductive. Slowly standing from the table, the Wolf of Kyataru made his way to the long distance holocomm and plugged in a series of numbers. The fatigued visage of Methyas Pepoi L'eonheart emerged.

"Methyas, I have a favor to ask."

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

Consul's Chambers
Sadow Palace
Sepros


This place was always familiar to the presence of the Dark Councilor. He had graced this hall many times during for a variety of reasons. He knew the Consul of Naga Sadow would have no problem granting his request for a few bodies to investigate a potential breach in security, especially if the breach was bold enough to mettle in the affairs of the Dark Council. Shikyo looked over his holopad as he read the information that flashed upon the cyan screen.

He would be receiving the assistance of some members of the clan, though their names were not listed for the sake of maintaining security. A smirk found its way upon the Adept’s face as he admired the wisdom and caution of the new Consul. There was also a list of authorized equipment and ships, followed by a letter of extension for any necessary Dlarit resources. It was a bit unnecessary though the gesture would be more than handy, if the situation called for it. The final message arranged for the meeting place of Shikyo's motley crew; Alabrek Auxillary. It was one of the many things that the Wolf of Kyataru had not been around to witness and it was to his delight that he didn’t. He’d heard of the destruction upon Tarthos and of the many rebuilt and newly created sections within.

As he boarded the newly designed armored freighter, the Masarao, the Herald wasted no time moving towards the compartment bay, searching through his equipment. Breaking his hilts apart and focusing on rebuilding and fine tuning his sabers, the Krath did everything he could not to think about the woman. Though she was once his calm in the middle of a tempest, now she was a virus that sought to ruin him from the inside out.

Sanarai Iridana

05-11-2011 01:55:35

--- Naga Sadow Dorms --

Cyril Nighthunter fixed her ice-blue eyes on her datapad, gaze narrowed as she scanned through the message on the glowing screen before her. Since the battle against New Tython, she had heard vague rumors of supposed Jedi Masters infiltrating the Brotherhood, but until now she hadn't given it much credit.
Apparently, the whispers were true.
She stood, tucking her datapad in its place on her utility belt and gathering her two weapons, her father's vibroshiv and her armory lightsabre, from their respective places in her quarters. Cy donned her black hooded cloak and fastened the purple Krayt dragon broach about her throat, throwing her hood up to disguise her features to those being too observational. Before she left, Cyril picked up the Corsair hilt given to her upon her induction into the Dakhani Corsairs. Gazing at it for a few heartbeats the Zeltron was abruptly overcome by pride--without a second thought she clipped it onto her belt next to her lightsabre and vibroshiv. She cast a swift glance at herself in the reflective panel and allowed a small smirk to cross her face.

Perhaps she really was elite.

An instant later the Protector had slipped into the hallway, sticking to the shadows more out of old habit than necessity. Presently she reached into her belt and retrieved her comm link, continuing her stride towards her destination with purpose.

"Master Shikyo," she said softly into her end of the comm, "Send me the coordinates. I'll rendezvous soon."


--- Undisclosed Location ---

Shikyo quickly listened to the message on his comm and gazed thoughtfully at a spot in the distance. The first of his recruits had responded and was meeting him shortly; all that was left to do now was wait for the rest of them. Almost absently he placed his hand on the lightsabre hilt still on the ground, considering his options. Considering his actions...
Considering everything--even the one he did not want his thoughts to stray upon.

He looked down at the thrice-completed lightsabre resting in his hand. That, at least, was something he could rely on; even when everything else was falling apart he could still count on the weight of his weapon on his hip.

Sakuya...

He sighed. A moment later the comforting power of the dark side arose around him.
She was going to be the ruin of him, and perhaps everything around him.

Locke

06-11-2011 21:32:32

Tarthos
Alabrek Auxiliary


Locke was the first to arrive at the Auxiliary. At a surprised look from the door guard, he smirked and passed over his credentials. Last time he had been on Tarthos had been in the middle of a battle, so he wasn't surprised that he was unfamiliar to the Special Operations forces stationed here. Slipping his ID back under his cloak, Locke made sure his back was straight and strode into the facility.

The low hum of distant machinery and dimmed lights gave an overall air of secrecy to the place. As Locke strode deeper inside, he passed the occasional control station or operations room and noted that everyone spoke in hushed tones to one another. It took Locke awhile to find his way around; the Auxiliary was quite a large facility. He found the briefing room, but decided to explore the facility a bit first.

He stopped in a room with a wall covered in broad displays. One showed a map of Tarthos; another was a video feed of the space over the planet. As a few ships came and went, Locke pondered how this mission of Shikyo's would work out and how his own skills would be useful here. He had only worked with the Herald once before; but had realized then that he was a man Locke could learn a lot from. His power in the Force had both terrified and amazed Locke at the same time. While it was something he wished to wield; he was unsure of what effect it might have on his personality.

The view screen depicting the space over Tarthos abruptly zoomed in on one particular ship, a small square bracketing it and text sprawling across the screen. Locke didn't recognize it's particular identification, but he noted that it's trajectory would take it straight to the facility. He wondered if Shikyo would be on board, or perhaps one of the others brought here for this mission. Locke lingered a few moments longer before returning to the briefing room he had located earlier.

This time, he found he was not alone. Cyril had already arrived. Locke had a marked distaste for Zeltrons – they had distracted many of his allies from their duties during the 'War – but he kept that hidden here as he nodded. "Congratulations again on your induction into the Corsairs, " he said.


"Thank you, Master Locke." He noticed her brief smile at that. That was fine; just as long as she didn't try to use any of those bloody pheromones on him.

"You don't have to call me that. Just Locke will do." It still felt a little strange whenever he was reminded of his position. "The Herald should be arriving soon, along with whoever else is on this mission, " he added.

Roxas

06-11-2011 22:29:57

Tarthos
Markosian City
Back room of the Crossroads


Roxas lit his cigar as his cigar and took a long puff. He blew the smoke in a clear line from his mouth. He wasn’t sure of what equipment he would need. He remembered that he had recently gotten one of the assassin suits from the armory. He stood for a moment before deciding to try it out. He put it on, but kept distracting himself with admiring different useful attributes it had. He finished getting dressed and tied the Regulator bandana on his forehead. The bandana was black and embroidered with the Regulator symbol in the middle. It was also a little wide, which made it cover his eyebrows. Roxas turned to the safe, opening it he grabbed his NR2S and spun it on his finger before sliding it into the holster on his thigh. The safe’s door shut and locked with load metallic clanks as the Sergeant rushed out the door to jump on a speeder and hurry to the rendezvous point.

Alabrek Auxiliary

The Obelisk walked up to the building after cramming the speeder into a random parking spot. DSOG troops saluted as he approached.

“Sir! I’m sorry, but there is no smoking inside.” A trooper called out to the Sergeant.

A look of distaste crossed the Knight’s face as he dropped his cigar and crushed it with his boot.

The Mandalorian was cleared after showing his ID for “safety” reasons and he entered the building. His boots echoed in the halls of the building. Roxas had no clue which way to go, so he asked a passing trooper where the briefing room was. After thanking the trooper he was on his way. After a few twists and turns Roxas made it to his destination. He went inside and found Locke and Cyril waiting patiently.

“What took you so long Sergeant?” The Aedile asked with a jesting tone.

Roxas laughed as he responded “I got lost and everyplace I go is ‘no smoking’.”

Locke laughed “Maybe it’s time to quit.”

“No thanks.”

Roxas noticed Cyril sitting quietly, so he tossed her a spare Regulator bandana.

She looked puzzled until he said “I haven’t had the chance to give you one yet.”

She quickly thanked him and tied it loosely around her neck. The three began to make idle conversation, while waiting for the others to arrive.

JCyrin

07-11-2011 02:51:50

Alabrek Castle
Kar Alabrek, Tarthos


Jeric slouched on his throne inside the Ragnos Cathedral. He had just return from the battlefields of New Tython days ago, he was tired and beaten. His sight still hadn’t returned and he feared it would never be fully healed even after the medicine Macron had gave him. Displeased with his disfigured face Jeric had one of the Castle’s blacksmiths construct him a mask. The Sovereign of Alabrek Castle straighten himself as the throne room doors opened.

One of the civilian aids walked in with purpose, stopped and took a knee at the foot of the throne.

“Your Majesty, two guest have arrive at the Auxilary. We also have his excellency Keibatsu’s vessel entering orbit now.”

“Thank you, I’ll be moving down to the briefing room. Please informed me when his excellency arrives at the Castle.”

The aid stood as Jeric rose out of the throne and waited for the Sith to fully exit the room before leaving himself. The Quaestor of Marka Ragnos made his way thru the corridors of the castle, citizens and dark jedi alike made way as the former Tapani Noble walked amongst the crowds. Jeric was beginning to like being treated like royalty even if it was because he was seen as a deity.

Jeric finally found his way outside to the Castle proper and to the entrance of the Auxiliary. Even though most of the security knew of Jeric and the position he held they still carded him and that was on thing he loved about DSOG troops station in Kar Alabrek, they obey orders.

“Your all set Sir. Three others are inside already.” The corporal who verified the ID said as he handed Jeric’s ID card back.

The doors to the Auxiliary hissed open and Jeric made his way down into the sub-levels. On his way to the briefing room he had to wonder who else was chosen by the Herald to assist him in this mission. After a few minute of walking thru the maze of corridors the Quaestor finally reached his destination. As the door slid open Senior Director Sonjie and Sergeant Buurenaar turn to face the new arrival, Cyril was already seated facing the door.

Cyril shot up and gave a bow as the masked figure entered the room. “Your honor, it is a pleasure to be in your presence.”

“Sit, no need for formality. How is everyone doing?” Jeric asked as he took a seat at the table.

Macron Sadow

07-11-2011 18:25:34

Kar Alabrek, Tarthos
Alabrek Castle
Deep Sublevels
Secret Lab


Macron looked around at the instruments on the table. Behind him hovered a red-and-black durite ball, silently purring on repulsor coils as it retracted a wicked gouging apparatus from a twitching corpse. The air and flagstones still seemed to resonate with silent screams even though the subject had expired officially more than a minute earlier. The interrogation of the subject had gone remarkably well, but the information gained was slim.

“Damn. Not much to share,” snorted the Warlord. “This is not my normal operating theater. What a wimp. He didn’t even handle the ball-worms well.” The alchemist washed his hands in a nearby durasteel clean sink. “Well Blinky? Your thoughts?”

The hovering IT-3 droid purred before beginning it’s modulated smooth voice. “Master, the statistical analysis of the subject’s biorhythms were as normal.” The ball floated nearer to the alchemist as he donned a robe against the chill of the cold stone walls. “As you know, subjective information is not my forte. I could detect no physical or biochemical anomalies. Final Termination of the subject began at seventy seconds prior to this conversation.”

“Yes, I know,” giggled Macron. “Leave that to us mushy-brains. Still, the story of the supposed shade he saw was interesting. I’ll have to pass that along. Come Blinky, we have an appointment to keep. Some very important guests await us above.”

Kar Alabrek, Tarthos
Alabrek Castle Auxillary
Sublevels
Briefing Room


The pressure door hissed open as Macron entered the room with a giggle. Behind him floated a highly modified IT-3 droid with dried blood on it’s carapace. The mad Sith stared about the room unnervingly, nodding at those seated. “Senior Directors Sonjie and Cyrin, Seargeant Buurenaar, Protector Cyril,” chuckled the mad Sith Warlord as he sat down and fidgeted with a tattoo on his face. “Gentlemen, Lady. I am expecting my Master soon. And my old friend Sildrin…. And of course, our Overseer from the highest levels.”

Teu

07-11-2011 21:24:39

Alabrek Castle, Tarthos

Teu moved quickly through the hall, her communicator on her hip buzzed against her hip softly. The events on New Tython have left her exhausted, her recently healed leg was sore and pulled with every steps making her limp more pronounced. Pulling her small handheld datapad off her belt she read the message quickly before erasing it.

A small grin pulled at her lips as she returned to her office, she grabbed a small bad quickly tossing it over her shoulder. Leaving the room, she entered in her personal code locking the door tight from unwelcome entry. She pulled her hand through her hair in an attempt to make it look presentable, a soft sigh of annoyance passed through her lips when the she caught her reflection. She stopped for a moment and threw it into a quick bun, before heading towards the meeting location.

Her head nodding in greeting at those she knew as she passed.

Auxiliary

Teu entered the room; she flashed her ID to the guards outside who nodded her in. She noticed who was inside the room with a quick nod of greeting. She turned to her former student.

“Grats on your promotion Locke” She turned to Cyril for a moment her feature softened slightly. “Yours as well young one.”

Locke turned and looked at his former Master. “Thanks. How’s the leg treating you?”

“Thank you ma’am” Cyril bowed slightly towards her before straightening.

“Horrible since we returned back from New Tython. Really need to look into alternate forms of therapy for the leg.“ Teu looked at Cyril again. “No need to call me Ma’am. Teu will work or Pepoi if you want something official.”

Locke nodded once. “Could have Macron look at it if needed Master, I hear he’s pretty good at alternate forms of therapy”

Teu laughed slightly, she moved to find somewhere to sit, tossing her left leg up onto the chair in front of her reclining back. “So, when’s the boss man going to get here?”

Mirado

08-11-2011 03:08:06

It was silence, no better word could describe it, as the Dakhani Quaestor moved through the halls of Alabrek castle. The place could have been a masterpiece to anyone else, but such detail was lost on the eyeless Miraluka as he moved towards the auxiliary. It was merely walls, sometimes doors, which occasionally had people behind them, and then more walls, spiced with the occasional window. The oppressive edifice was something the assassin could have lived his whole life without walking through, but business was business.

There were plenty of familiar presences within the place, their ‘flavor’ of the Force as noticeable to him as different types of ice cream to a person’s tongue. There was the gleefully fatalistic Macron, who ripped in a manner so chaotic it would be disservice to call it a pattern. The Dakhani Aedile Locke was nearby as well, a tightly restrained cacophony. Mirado’s counterpart, the Ragnosian Quaestor was there as well, pulsing in rhythm to some song only he knew the lyrics to. Others he didn’t need the Force to identify. Cyril for instance, who he could smell a mile away, due to her Zeltron pheromones. Even in a non-active state they were powerful to a sensitive nose. Mirado’s cousin Teu, whose understated perfume was just entirely too familiar to him. Cigar smoke and weapon oil screamed Roxas the Mandalorian.

Mirado reflexively shook his left arm, seeming like he was adjusting a loose chronograph, though in reality he was making sure his lightsaber, strapped to his forearm in a spring loaded sheath, was still there. It was a foreign weapon to him, a spoil of the battle on New Tython, carried only until he could re-claim the one he’d been carrying from Manji. Of course, that too was a loaner from his cousin the Fist. Silently, always silently, he cursed himself for not just making another damn lightsaber.

As he rounded a final corner, he saw two guards standing at the door; DSOG troopers, probably given the task as punishment. They made no overt motions with their weapons, and met none of the same with Mirado, who merely flickered his fingers in an act of legerdemain, producing his ident-card from nowhere.

“Director,” one trooper said as he tapped the door panel with the heel of his hand.

“Trooper,” Mirado said in his calm baritone, before walking in.

“You managed to draw yourself away from building a planet?” Roxas quipped as he took an old toothbush to his helmet, digging into the seams in construction to clean out the dirt. Corrosion and grime were the mortal enemy of equipment, and while many might consider the Mandalorian uncultured, they could never consider him fastidious in the maintenance of his possessions.

“Not as easy as it looks.” Mirado muttered as he leaned against a convenient wall. “Locke?”

“The Herald’s vessel is getting approach vector. You would’ve heard it if you were on time.” The Bakuran man said. Such talk towards one’s direct superior would usually earn the subordinate a beating, if not worse, but such posturing was counterproductive at best. Besides, Mirado was late. Having to travel here from Aeotheran was slow enough given the interplanetary traffic this time of day, but compounding it with budget meetings and product demonstrations ensured punctuality was not with him this evening.

“If you’re important, people will wait on you.” Mirado said with a shrug.

“I wouldn’t let his Excellency hear you say that, apprentice.” Macron said with a warbling giggle. The man just never got any less flaky.

“But Master, here we are, waiting on him.” Mirado replied without missing a beat. “I’d be more worried about the air traffic controllers if they don’t get him landed as quickly as he’d like.”

“I’d hate to think somebody more important is landing as well.” Cyril said as she absently toyed with her Corsair ring. The plum colored adegean crystal which adorned it was synthetic, but still held its own faint light, and the simple plain metal band upon which it was set did nothing but set the perfect ring of crystal off in a fashionable manner.

Jeric shook his head. “No, traffic is hell right now. Doesn’t mean he still won’t throw the controllers out of their tower though.” He added with a darkly wry smirk, as though he was picturing it and liking the way it played out in his head.

Nekura Manji

08-11-2011 06:21:13

Hangar Bay
Alabrek Castle
Kar Alabrek, Tarthos


The Masarao jetted slowly down towards the floor of the hangar, thrusters firing to keep her descent smooth and steady; the crew took an inordinate amount of care in their handling of the ship, both out of pride and out of the fear of reprisal if they disturbed their passenger. The backwash from the engines whooshed out across the polished marble towards a lanky figure standing in front of the blast doors, his long kimono fluttering in the breeze. As the ship settled and the landing ramp whirred down to rest against the hangar bay floor, Manji tucked his left arm into the front of his garment and felt a smirk settled on his scarred face at the sight of the warcoated figure descending from the ship. Raising his voice over the dying whine of the Masarao's engines, he hailed the figure cheerfully.

"Brother! Welcome home!"

Shikyo walked down the ramp alone, his own expression cracking into a smile as he caught sight of his welcoming committee. Boots ringing on the polished stone, he strode forwards to grip Manji's outstretched right hand in a warrior's handshake.

"It's good to see you, aniki. I hear you brought honour to our family in the recent conflict?"

Manji chuckled quietly as they turned away from the Masarao, leaving the crew to clamp down and refuel the ship.

"I beat up a few Arconans and killed some Jedi, if that's what you mean." Suddenly the Keibatsu's expression twisted as a memory dredged out of the silt of his mind presented itself. "Except that Hutt-karking Nautolan..."

Shikyo's own face soured- he had not encountered the Nautolan himself, but Manji had related the tale over a flask of hot saké the last time the two had been on Kyataru together. He'd offered his assistance, only to be swiftly rebuffed- the Dragon wanted to tear this enemy down himself as a matter of pride, and if he couldn't defeat Ayln'ohn, he'd die in the attempt. For a moment, a poignant cloud of silence hung between the two before Manji brightened up slightly, slapping Shikyo on the back.

"Anyway, I've got a few weeks before I have to deal with that konch?, so I figured I'd help you out with your own Jedi problem. No objections?"

Shikyo grinned as the blast doors closed behind them, their feet taking them into the corridors of Alabrek Castle and towards the Auxiliary.

"Not at all, brother. With you and Sildrin in tow... why, it'll be just like the Reclamation. Remember?"

Manji burst out laughing. The memories of the Keibatsu's campaign to take back their home planet were still lodged in his mind, fond reminders of a time when the family had brought righteous justice to those who had usurped their birthright.

"I remember you wore proper clothing then! You look more like Musashi every time I see you nowadays!"

Their voices faded away as they continued through the corridors, catching up and trading stories, secure in the bonds of brotherhood between them. Shikyo's elevated position might have demanded servitude and humility from others, but not from his elder brother, and Manji took every opportunity to remind the Wolf of that connection when they were not being observed.

Sildrin

08-11-2011 21:22:17

Tarthos
Alabrek Auxiliary

".....ster soon. And my old friend Sildrin…. And of course, our Overseer from the highest levels.”, she heard Macron's voice as she entered the room. A scowl appeared on her face: "Who did you torment to find out I am joining, mad Alchemist?", her white blank eyes stared into Macron's direction. Macron flashed a grim scary smile, showing his metal capped pointy teeth, but yet he didn't give any answer.

The blind priestress turned to the others in the room, giving a slight nod. She was dressed in a simple black robe, with her red hair cascading down her back. Her completely white eyes stared blindly into the room. She wrinkled her nose, smelling the cold smoke of cigars clinging to one of the members in this room, murmering: "I thought smoking was not allowed here." Roxar took a sharp breath: "I .. didn't.. I mean.. I did, but not...", Locke laid a hand on his shoulder, whispering: "She is just teasing you... I think."
Quaestor Jeric eyed her sensing a sombre melancholic aura around the priestress. Sildrin turned to him, giving him a formal bow: "Greetings your.. Honor", there was a hint of arrogance within her voice. The usual arrogance of a member of the Long family. "Sildrin Sadow at your service." Jeric's eyes narrowed, he was glad he was wearing a mask to cover up any of the emotions shown on his face.
I am blind anyways, he heard suddenly her voice in his mind. He straightened himself: "Welcome, Mistress Long".
A smirk appeared shortly on her face: "Ahh.. just call me Sildrin.", she sat down at the table. "This is quite an interesting composition for a team. Or are there more to come?".

Shikyo Keibatsu

09-11-2011 23:07:42

Outside Alabrek Auxiliary
Alabrek Citadel
Tarthos


It was great to be around family again. Though it was for business, any chance to enjoy a conversation with his brethren was one that Shikyo savored like cold water in the dunes of Tatooine. The stories began to fade between the two brothers as they approached the guards standing before the door. For a moment, they seemed ready to stand their ground before the two Keibatsu. A glare from each man softened the guards’ spines and made way for the sons of Koji.

Shikyo opened the door to the assembly area and while I smiled while in the presence of his brother, his face turned solemn and focused. A couple dark jedi bowed, one stood frozen in place, a couple others bowed their head slightly in familiarity, only one smirked. The Herald took in the energy of the room before him. Some things felt familiar, some things felt new, and there was a strange vibe coming from someone he knew quite well. As the Elder nodded his head towards the group and made his way towards the head of the massive wroshyr tree desk, the fellow Sadowians found their seats and turned their attentions towards the Son of Sadow.

"Glad everyone is here. I know you have a lot of questions, so I'll be brief. It has come to my attention that there is a potential leak in Naga Sadow security."

Sasuke waited a moment to let the idea filter into the minds of everyone in attendance. The Herald was met with a combination of uneasiness for the less experienced and stone old expressions from those he knew well.

"I've tracked this leak from rumors to New Tython, to holo-feeds from the streets of Kel Rasha and San Korinar, even to the shores on my home planet."

Those words struck a nerve. While most of the group stood in place, the Wolf of Kyataru noticed a slight shift in Manji's posture. He was agitated and more than eager to find a direction to release his anger.

"We're looking at the work of Jedi Master, maybe more. They work in small groups, planting seeds of discord amongst our people, then move before we have a chance to track them down. With this in mind, we’ll need to split off into four groups and investigate various areas in the Orian system. Tarthos, Aeotheren, San Korinar, and Sepros. If you don't mind, I'd like to handle San Korinar myself."

No word of objection came from the crowd. Instead, they all shifted uneasily in their seats; as if there was something they knew that had gone unsaid. Shikyo didn't bother to ask. He would find out the information himself. Shaking the vibes of the group off, the Dark Councilor continued his briefing.

"Gather what equipment you think you’ll need to find these bastards, gather in groups of two and let me know which area you want to investigate. We’ll regroup here in an hour. May the Force serve you well..."

Sanarai Iridana

10-11-2011 23:27:05

Tarthos
Alabrek Auxiliary

Cyril listened to the babble around her, ignoring the entrances of the various Sadowans unless they greeted her by name. The rather uncomfortable stillness permeating the room caused the Protector to keep her hood up, relying upon its shielding depths to keep her from going insane. Almost absently, she fussed with her Corsair ring as she waited for the last person to arrive, its purple crystal pulsing softly from its place on her right hand. A faint sigh escaped Cyril’s lips as she shifted her weight from one foot to the next.

Where was he?
Thud, thud, thud. The Zeltron narrowed her eyes at the sound as the Force alerted her too late to the approach of those late to arrive. She braced herself for the Force-aided inspection that was to come, knowing from experience that it was going to be unpleasant.

Thump, thump, thump. Great, so there were two of them. Wonderful. She swore to herself, careful to keep her exasperation and automatic hostility towards others in check. She folded her arms across her chest and composed herself, focusing on a random point in the floor to keep her cool. Dimly she heard laughing float across the hallway and within her range of hearing and the female frowned slightly. Just what was there to laugh about? What was funny about this mission?

Thump, thud--silence. She raised her head and failed to stop the sharp intake of breath that slipped from behind clenched teeth.
She had been expecting Shikyo--hell, she had been the first to respond to his initial contact--but she had not expected Manji. She rose to her full height but otherwise kept still.
The room seemed to transform subtly at the appearance of the newcomers, though how or in what way the teenager was not sure.

Very, very carefully she expanded what telepathic ability her Zeltron genes afforded to her and attempted to sift through the undercurrents in the room without releasing any pheromones, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. She found a sense of unease and, incredibly, a sense of wariness--though whether or not those emotions came from her or from others was hard to tell.

“…a potential leak in Naga Sadow security,” Shikyo was saying. Cyril listened with only half her senses entirely focused, still lightly testing the waters that were the emotions in the room. Whoever had been uneasy and wary had hidden the emotions and she picked up nothing. With a scowl she glided into the group around the Herald, staying just on the outskirts to avoid disturbing the proceedings.

No sooner had he finished then an inconspicuous alteration occurred among the others; a slight frown flashed over her lips before fading from sight. She would consider it later. Slowly the group dispersed to discuss among themselves who would go where.
Cyril stayed put. Now was the time.

“Master Shikyo.” She spoke softly yet clearly, a tone of flat-lined bravado in her voice.
He paused and turned to face her, regarding her with a quick appraising eye “Cyril, correct?” he greeted her. “What can I do for you?” She lowered her hood, albeit reluctantly in the face of so many others, and daringly raised her eyes to meet his.

“I’m going with you,” she stated simply. Shikyo waited for her to elaborate, meeting her gaze in return and letting a smirk play along the edges of his lips. “These others…” she gestured to those in the room, “they would not allow me to rise to my full potential. I can feel it.” She crossed her arms again, staring him full in the face with her ice-blue eyes. “I want to accompany you to San Korinar.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, then turned to his companion. "What do you think, aniki?" he asked. It was more of a familiarity than anything else, as Shikyo already knew what choice he was going to make. The girl was bold, yes, but there was defiinitley something to doing what no one else would, particularly at her rank. Though she still had much to learn concerning the Force, there was potential here that he could not, and would not, ignore.

A half-grin spread across Manji’s face at the other Keibatsu’s words that transformed into a look of surprise when his eyes lit upon the Corsair hilt at her waist. So this was her, the young one who had been given that honor.

“I think you should consider this,” he whispered to his brother. Shikyo gave the other Dark Jedi a knowing wink in response and turned back to the female before him, his lips curving up in a small smile.

“Alright, then,” he agreed. “You can come with me to San Korinar, but mark this: if you forget your place, and I will forget my discipline."

Macron Sadow

12-11-2011 10:36:44

Kar Alabrek, Tarthos
Alabrek Castle Auxillary
Sublevels
Briefing Room


“So, a trip to Sepros it is then,” commented Macron with a grin. “I see you will be joining me, Locke.” Macron stood up from the table and began to walk to the door.

“I am?” asked the Priest. “Under whose authority?”

Macron giggled as a de-crypted com message flashed across the briefing room screen. “Mine.”



The silence in the room was deafening as people stopped their egress to look. Shikyo smiled. “I have known of this for some time. Methyas has retired to attend to other concerns, as many Consuls do. The Council feels Macron here…” He looked pointedly at the Warlord with a stern look…”Will be best able to lead Clan Naga Sadow.”

“I appreciate the Council’s confidence,” remarked the Alchemist with an uncharacteristically serious tone. “I will serve my Clan as Consul for the third time and will do so with zeal. We will crush our enemies. The War Forces are already on the way that the Council ordered for us.”

Manji looked at the both of them while the others nodded. “War Forces? Excellent.”

“That’s right,” replied Shikyo. “Your forces are obviously in need of bolstering after the last conflict on New Tython. The Council has seen fit to assign more units to the Clan.”

“Gentlemen, Lady,” bowed the Consul with a chuckle. “Let’s go gather our things, and meet Shikyo here as requested. “Locke, we have work to do,” quipped the Sith madman as they headed for the door. “This Jedi infiltrator problem is quite serious. I hope I get to crush the life out of them personally.”

Nekura Manji

13-11-2011 06:26:51

Kar Alabrek, Tarthos
Alabrek Castle Auxillary
Sublevels
Briefing Room


As Locke and Macron left the room, followed by Shikyo and Cyril, the remaining Dark Jedi looked at each other. Teu cast a disgusted glance at Roxas, sitting on the bench at the side of the room, and immediately strode towards the ghostly-pale Sildrin, the two women exiting with Jeric just behind them. Left alone in the briefing room, Manji looked across at the Mandalorian with a resigned expression sneaking over his face.

"I guess that means we're working together, Mandalorian."

Getting to his feet, Roxas nodded, following the Keibatsu as he strode from the briefing room and out into the dingy sublevels of Alabrek Castle. His voice echoed from pipes and off the glistening stone as they walked.

"What's the plan?"

Manji frowned, his lips pursed in thought. "Hm... it's been a while since I was back here, so we'll stay on Tarthos and see what we can find. I don't have any more gear to collect, so I guess we're just killing time for an hour... drink?"

The Mandalorian grinned and nodded his assent even as he puzzled over the Keibatsu's words. Going into battle without any armour, with nothing more than a flimsy silk robe? He knew the Kyataran hailed from a warrior culture that shared some similarities with the Mandalorians, but the differences were obviously much more pronounced than he'd thought. Then again, Manji was one of the most battle-hardened members of the Clan, so his strange choice in battlefield attire clearly hadn't led to any fatal injuries yet. The Mandalorian shrugged silently and dismissed the thoughts as the two emerged from the sublevels into Alabrek Castle proper, heading for the cantina that took up part of the western wing. A couple of beers would pass the time until they needed to head back to the briefing room, and they could scan the crowd of patrons for any signs of trouble or suspicious figures at the same time.

Locke

15-11-2011 21:52:14

Kar Alabrek, Tarthos
Alabrek Castle Auxillary
Sublevels
Briefing Room


Locke gave the Mad Alchemist a quizzical look as they left the briefing room. "What sort of stuff would I need? I have my blaster, my lightsaber, and the Force." He indicated the blaster holstered at his belt, lightsaber clipped on the other side, and gave his chest one light tap for emphasis.

Macron didn't even turn as they headed down different hallways, looking for the armory. "You never know what you might need. There's a high chance we could get ambushed, hee hee."

"Good point, " Locke replied, nodding. That was true; even though the mission was recon, anything could happen. The two were silent the rest of the way, until at last Macron stopped in front of a door like any other.

"Aha, armory!" he said, stopping in front of it.

Locke studied the door. It didn't look like an armory. He said as much.

"That's because it isn't the normal kind. Sure, you'll find your usual weapons in here, but also some of my own devices. The workers who built it into the base are no longer among the living, as they say." Macron grinned and put his palm to an unmarked spot on the wall, and after a moment the door slid open. Locke followed him inside. Noticing the walls lined with several scary-looking things he didn't recognize, he stopped in the middle. Macron immediately strode to one wall, opened a cabinet, and began digging through it, noticing Locke after a few moments. "Well, don't just stand there! Gear up!"

"Right, " Locke replied. He went to the opposite wall of the small-but-apparently-well-stocked room and examined things along the wall. He pulled a normal-looking blaster carbine from it, and flipped the safety off, breathing with relief when he heard the simple whine of a power cell charging up. With a slight smile, he flipped the safety back on and slung the weapon over one shoulder. "What else do you think I should bring?" He asked, still examining the wall. "Do you have any surveillance equipment or anything like that?"

Roxas

15-11-2011 22:02:58

Kar Alabrek, Tarthos
Alabrek Castle Auxillary
Cantina


Manji and Roxas sat at the bar sipping there drinks while they chatted about the war on new tython and aspects of their cultures.

“Aren’t you cold in that kimono?” The Mandalorian asked curious as to how Manji could be wearing such thin fabric on Tarthos.

Manji laughed as he replied “No, I’m quite comfortable…” and the asked “Aren’t you hot when you wear all the armor?”

Roxas replied quickly “Frak no! I’m always cold on this planet.”

“Where are you from Roxas?” The Son of Sadow queried before taking a sip of his drink.

Roxas finished his drink and slammed the glass on the bar to let the tender know he wanted more “I was born on Mandalore, but raised in the jungles of Dxun.”

Manji finished his sake and set the small cuplike bowl down as he replied “That would explain why you are cold then, but you’ll get used to it. It takes time.”

Roxas listened to him, but would rather someone find the planets thermostat and turn it up some. The Mandalorian shifted his eyes to his right.

“So you notice it too then…” Manji whispered “…but why did it take you so long too?”

Roxas whispered his reply “I haven’t been training as much as I used too, so I’m not as powerful as I once was.”

“Why would you do stop training in the Force?” Manji exclaimed through a whisper.

Roxas replied while still looking into the crowd “I don’t want to rely on it because that is against my culture.”

Manji understood what the Mandalorian meant, but still felt that Roxas should train in the Force more than he has been. Roxas rested his hand on his NR2S as Manji rested his hand on one of his silver sabers.

“Don’t let them know that they’ve been spotted.” Manji whispered while looking straight ahead, so as not to draw attention.

Roxas replied while removing his hand from his pistol “I don’t think it will fire anyway, this thing hasn’t been working right lately.”

“It looks pretty old…” Manji replied “How long have you had it?”

Roxas thought for a moment before replying “Well I got it around the time I joined, so I’ve had it a long time.”

Roxas checked his data pad for the time and was disappointed that he couldn’t drink longer.

“We should go, it’s almost time to meet up with the others.” The Mandalorian said politely, he knew better than to tell a Keibatsu what to do.

Manji gave a slight grin as he spoke “I think you’re right. We should be punctual.”

The two stood and walked out of the Cantina, with their tail following close behind. The man was cautious not to be seen, but it was in vein. The two warriors had noticed him a good fifteen minutes ago. They casually walked toward the briefing room. The Mandalorian passed a glance toward Manji, and Manji got what he was saying without words “You were right.” Manji had it figured out, they would lead the man straight into the hornets nest.

Sildrin

21-11-2011 20:20:06

Tarthos
Alabrek Auxiliary
Briefing Room


Cyril raised her hood again, seeking comfort in shrouding her face. The thought that she would go along with the Herald made her lips curl into a light smile. She turned towards the door, nearly bumping into the Pontifex with those weird blank white eyes. Eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness of her hood right into her inner sanctum. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed until the red haired woman gave away a brief sigh. "Maybe you wish to reconsider your decision..?", her voice was nearly inaudible, a ghostly whisper.

The Protector replied: "No. Only Master Shikyo will allow me to ris... ", the Long woman in front of her made a brief snort, interrupting her with a small gesture.
"The Herald is quite a busy man; every moment the Dark Lord may call for his assistance and has to leave you behind until he is free to choose again."
"I will go with him! Our paths are the same. ", Cyril stated it with a more bold voice.
"How do you want to know that, Protector Cyril?". For a moment Cyril wondered if this Sildrin Sadow was toying with her, but she decided to answer with honesty: "The force. I sense that my path is the same as Master Shikyo's."
Cyril watched the woman in front of her lightly tilting her head, her gaze going through her as if she wasn't there. "May I?", the blind woman gently asked and raised a hand. Cyril flinched, recoiling from the touch. Sildrin gave away a little chuckle: "Do you worry I may harm you? I am a Daughter of Sadow. Do not judge so swiftly." The Protector hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. Cool fingers sought for her temples, a smoothing touch along her forehead and the vision in front of her began to waft, silvery threads expanding, branching - her eyes widened.
Yes, this is the tapestry of the force. Invisible to most who only depend on their eyes to see, Cyril heard Sildrin's telepathic voice in her head. A shiny silvery thread gently pulsated within the tapestry.
Is.. this... my thread?, Cyril asked mentally.
Yes, follow it's path as far as you can.
The Protector reached out with the force, guided by the Pontifex. A clear shining thread, acompanied by another one - the Herald's one. But then the threads began to branch, once, twice, multiple times, some intertwining, some going apart and finally they dissolved into the broad tapestry of the force.
I cannot follow it anymore, Cyril stated with a confused thought.
No, you cannot, because each decision opens a new possibility. Each step. Each move, even each breath shrouds the destination of the thread. Only with practise and strength in the force you are able to tell the true destination of your silvery thread. Not even I nor Shikyo is able to tell that. Do not just so swiftly from your first impression, the Pontifex's voice faded from her mind. The visible tapestry of the force collapsed, faded, and her eyes were able to perceive the room again.

A hand was laid on her shoulder and Cyril twitched. "Are you alright?", Shikyo had a puzzled look, having watched the two women. Cyril realised that Sildrin wasn't in the room anymore, probably she had herself been in a trance-llike state for a minute or two. "Yes.. yes Master Shikyo.", she replied.
The Herald nodded: "Are you ready to come with me?"
Cyril hesitated, but then she opened her mouth to reply.


Tarthos
Alabrek Auxiliary
Training Room

The Exarch Teu Pepoi grunted, swinging her saber at the Pontifex or what she assumed was Sildrin Sadow. The Obelisk's lips escaped a sound of frustration as her saber slashed through the figment of her mind. Another mind trick. Teu's hands gripped her saber more tightly, she drew her powers from her strength and agility, but yet this fragile Krath escaped her easily, clouding Teu's mind, obscuring her true location only to hit her from an unseen angle. Who is the blind one, Teu thought, not without irony. The Exarch turned around, her eyes widened as she saw the Blind Dragon standing right behind her and white streaks appeared in her vision, as if she had been slashed by claws. The force blast hit her chest, sending her backwards. Teu flipped backwards, toppling she reached out a hand to touch the floor - slowing her speed. Finally she ended in a crouching position on the floor several meters away.
Teu noticed that Jeric gave a small nod of approvement. The Quaestor watched their fight. Between opponents who differed so much from each other. The strong, aegile fighter against the aegile charismatic sorceress.

Sildrin Sadow wiped some sweat from her forehead, she deignited her saber. "Already enough?", Teu smirked, both had learned quite a lot from each other. She, herself, that sorcerers shouldn't be underestimated - and the sorceress that the saber of an Obelisk strikes hard. Very hard.
The Blind Dragon shook her head: "Unfortunately... we run out of time. The Herald awaits us. Time has passed quickly."
Teu arched an eyebrow: "We still have half an hour.", and then she saw the Pontifex giving her a scowl, that yet turned into a grin. "I still want to take a long hot bath", the Krath simply stated, leaving the training room.

"A bath....", Teu muttered.

Shikyo Keibatsu

21-11-2011 22:39:28

Alabrek Auxiliary
Alabrek Citadel
Tarthos


There was something odd in the Force. Threats, uneasiness, and doubts. It was funny how an hour could change things. The Herald could continue to feel uneasiness from his apprentice as the others entered. It wasn't until the Daughter of Sadow entered the room that there was a shot of energy sent through the room. Turning his attention towards Cyril, her expression spoke volumes to the Elder. As his eyes met those of the Long, a sly and seductive smirk found its way upon her lips. Shikyo knew the meaning behind that look.

As the others entered the room, the Dark Councilor noticed that Roxas and Manji had not yet joined the party. It was very uncharacteristic of his older brother to be the last one to show. However, a surge in the Force explained many things to the Dark Side Adept. Nekura and the Mandalorian had a tail; a tail that was growing slowly in number. The area had been compromised. As soon as both men entered the room, the Wolf of Kyataru moved pasted them.

"This area has been compromised. To arms!"

A symphony of lightsabers igniting brought a strangely tranquil feeling to the younger Keibatsu. With his wolfish smirk on his face, the Krath Sorcerer unleashed a snarl before blasting the doors before him off their frames. Two lone mercenaries jumped back, forgetting their skills in drawing their blasters. Macron was the first one to strike a kill, dropping a stunned Duro in two parts, as Roxas kept his sights on the human merc.

There was a click of metal and a whirr of disappointment as the blaster in the Mandalorian's hands failed him. As the Knight tried to figure out why his weapon failed him, Teu buried her saber in the chest of the lone gunman just before his bolt brushed past Roxas' hair. As the two were dispatched swiftly, more shadows began to bend in areas that should not have existed; more adversaries dared to announce their presence. Moving in unison towards the hangar bay, bodies fell one at a time as they dared to show their faces to those who sought them out. Smirking to himself, Shikyo had a single thought.

'Somebody is going to have a helluva time cleaning up this mess.'

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

Hangar Bay
Alabrek Castle
Kar Alabrek, Tarthos


The Masarao stood warmed up and ready to deliver its package of dark jedi throughout the Orian system. As the Herald caught up to the entrance, Katsuhide stood in full armor, including helmet, with his new assault carbine in hand.

"Preparations are-"

"Not now, Kyohei. I got pursuers behind us. Test the Banshee out on the poor bastards."

Without skipping a beat, the Nihilgenia stepped past the group and unleashed a volley of automatic fire at the three remaining fools. As each dark jedi made their way into the ship, Shikyo stuck out his hand and stopped the Dark Jedi Knight in his place, grabbing a blaster from his weapons rack and slapping it in Roxas' hand.

"You're going to need something to save your ass, Mandalorian. This piece of Kyataran technology will deliver you back in one piece."

Turning away from the former Sergeant before he had the chance to reply, Shikyo moved towards the cockpit, grabbing the Nihilgenia officer by the shoulder.

"Move away from this location now and drop the beacons. We have tails. Inform Fireteams Alpha through Delta of their assignments. Drop the party of Tarthos first, then Sepros, next Aeotheran, then take myself and my accomplice to San Korinar."

"Yes, sir."

With those words, the Kyataran cruiser lifted slowly and left the area of Alabrek Castle.

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

The Crossroads
Markosian City
Tarthos


The lavishly dressed woman looked too plain for the outfit she wore but she fit in with the crowd nonetheless. Listening to the band play its soft and sweet medley, she began to sway to the music in soft, gentle motions. To those who caught her movements, she seemed like an angel moving against a gentle wind. Within a matter of moments, a well built Kel Dor walked in, adorn in what appeared to be a martial artist's outfit from his planet. Those who watched the girl shifted their eyes away upon the alien's entrance. Moving to the seat in front of her, the Kel Dor shifted slightly.

"You draw too much attention to yourself, Sakuya. We cannot afford for our cover to be blown."

The young woman turned towards the massive alien.

"Master Kohn, you are nervous. We have not been compromised and we have learned that this area is consumed with the Dark Side of the Force."

"That is not all. Your fiancee is alive and well."

The woman stopped moving and her carefree spirit had turned more stern and serious.

"Bokuzen? Can you be certain?"

"I am. And he has fallen to the dark side. The situation is much more grave than I thought. He is gathering forces around him. The Force is strong with him and his allies. I feel that they may have discovered our intentions."

Sakuya learned forward, resting her chin on her hands.

"We must bring him to the light. Track his ship. I will see to it."

Standing up, Sakuya began to make her way towards the door.

'What will you do, Master Koyotai?'


Speaking without words, the two froze for a moment before going their separate ways.

'Inform our contacts and ready the Watchmen. We must purge the darkness from this area. With force, if necessary.'

Sildrin

22-11-2011 06:02:30

Onboard the Masarao
Communication room


The consul was in rage - an open attack in the Alabrek Castle! He yelled at the communicator; it was a good thing for the security officer to be on the other side of it - otherwise the officer might have been a dead person by now if he faced directly the Consul. A sequence of words escaped Macron's mouth, words that would have made Cyril blush if not for her reddish skin. The alchemist's language was quite 'colorful', which was in honesty a rather understated description. Spittle ran down the Consul's chin, dropping onto the console beneath him. "Inform the Overlord Astronicus Sadow about this. His security must be ensured! It seems as if this place has become the playground of Jedis!!!".
Cyril expected every moment for the spittle coated metal to dissolve with a hissing sound. The Consul was in such a state of rage that his spittle might even be accidic. Though of course nothing happened. But if there was a way to turn one's spittle into acid, Macron - the mad Alchemist - would be the first to volunteer.

There was a moment of silence and suddenly Cyril found Macron staring at her. "Yes", he whispered with a zealous look." Yesss, what a marvelous idea.....!", he exclaimed. Cyril blinked confused. Had she spoken out aloud or had she sent out the thought in a telepathic way? The Consul must have catched it from the aether of thoughts. Macron wiped the spittle from his mouth with the back of his hand, continuing to mutter:
"Yes. Accidic spittle. Maybe a tinge of poison. I would have to protect my gum... ", he said to himself, "and my gullet,.. I need an artificial gullet,.. then I can use my accidic spittle to poison my enemies.. yes... yes.. even eat through their guts alive... yessssss...". His yellow eyes appeared to glow, and a gentle touch at his arm brought him back from his daydreaming.
"Maybe you want to delay your researches until we are done with our mission, old friend?", Sildrin smirked at him. The Consul nodded.
"Yes, my researches have to wait... unfortunately", the alchemist said.

Macron Sadow

22-11-2011 18:24:49

Onboard the Masarao
Communication room

“…unfortunately", the alchemist said. “ In fact, Sildrin, I have a special mission for you.” Macron smiled evilly. He loved seret missions. Something of the kid left in him delighted in that sort of intrigue- or perhaps, it was the legacy of the Sith.

Sildrin looked at him and nodded slyly. The two began to walk through the halls of the vessel. They needed to appear nonchalant in their stroll.

Macron spoke again, quietly as they reached a holoscreen. Macron keyed an image of the unfinished areas of the Tarthos reconstruction. “I need you to do something for me. I’m reassigning you as Consul. With this new threat, we can take no chances at failure.” He gestured around towards images of the damage done by the former invaders. “You see what happened last time. May the Organization and True Brotherhood burn in the many Hells.”

“What do you mean?,” replied the Krath as she leaned sveltely against the bulkhead wall. “Make yourself clear, madman.”

Macron giggled. “Our new toys have been delivered from the Dark Council holdings. I need you to travel to the new Onyx Two platform and get them in order. Oversee the setup of the new Cardan Three space station. You will organize Research Team Theta for me while Locke and I are away.”

Xia Long snickered as they began to walk again casually. “More of your little delvings into pain?” She licked her lips expectantly. “It’s been a while, but my skill with a sonic scalpel is still adequate. What will they research?”

“Death, mostly. Hehe.” The Warlord chuckled at his own joke for a few seconds, and then regained his composure. “You will be greeting one hundred and ninety eight Verpine engineers, and getting our new YVH Mechu Deru units programmed and in-line. They will ‘escort’ our honored guests as well as act as the strike front of the Team. Best of all, there are ten full grown Tuk'ata that need care and training. Hehe. It's a little killing joke of mine. ”

Sildrin just blinked slowly in incredulity, and then turned to walk towards the hangar bay. This was going to be quite enjoyable- and a challenge.

Nekura Manji

23-11-2011 16:53:12

Onboard the Masarao
Nearing Markosian City


The ship had never breached the atmosphere, swooping instead like a dark raven away from Kar Alabrek towards the sprawling metropolis of Markosian City. White clouds brushed past the hull of the craft as it slowly descended towards the city, still dotted with cranes and construction sites. Gleaming white spires jutted into the sky from districts colour-coded by lines of coloured tarmac and gravel lining the streets. A faint shimmer broke around the bow of the Masarao as it eased through the shield surrounding the city and descended into the heart of Black Sector, heading for the concealed spaceport that had been erected in the centre of the district.

Touching down in an open-aired hangar bay, the Masarao kept its thrusters burning, hovering just above the ground as the landing ramp descended smoothly. Manji and Roxas stood at the top of the ramp with Shikyo.

"You have your orders, brother," shouted Shikyo over the roar of the engines. "Chase down any leads you discover and gather information for me but do not, I repeat, do not engage without contacting me first. You hear me, aniki?"

Manji let out a sly grin, rolling his eyes as though chastised by a parent.

"Loud and clear, ?kami-chan. We'll be in touch."

Beckoning for Roxas to follow him, the Keibatsu strode down the landing ramp and leapt out of the ship, his boots thumping against the hangar bay floor. The Mandalorian followed, landing just behind the Pontifex as the Masarao glided upwards, landing ramp closing as it flew upwards and away from Markosian City. Shading his good eye with a hand, Manji watched the ship leave then grunted wordlessly, turning towards the door of the hangar bay. Two guards at the fortified door watched him walk towards them, Roxas in tow, and silently opened the lock- the Keibatsu's distinctive garb and features were well-known across Tarthos, and despite the fact that Manji had never made a habit of butchering his subordinates when he was in charge, none of the Dlarit guards wanted to test the Dragon's patience.

As they passed out of the peaceful sunshine and into the winding corridors of the spaceport, Manji glanced across at Roxas.

"Okay, kid. Pop quiz time- if you had to track down some super-secret Jedi hiding on our planet, how would you go about it?"

Roxas' lips pursed in thought as they passed through a security checkpoint, nodding silently at the guards, who saluted and let them pass.

"It's amazing what drunk people and merchants will tell you with enough persuasion. We could start in Yellow Sector?"

Macron Sadow

28-11-2011 15:27:26

Onboard the Masarao
Sepros Orbit


“One minute to jump,” canted the Nihelingia commander. “On your mark, Consul.” Around them, the Nihelingia squadron assigned to the Sepros team locked their jump suits and checked their kit. The team Commander gave a thumbs up. “Good to go, sir!”

“I copy,” replied Macron as he looked at Locke with a sick grin. “Notify the Herald we are ready to deploy as he commands.” He turned towards Locke. “Best be putting the finishing touches on your kit there, m’friend.” The Sith touched a stud on the side of his armored helmet, causing the faceplate to close with a puff of gases. “Time grows short. Hehe.”

“You’re serious I see,” commented Locke dryly. “We really are going to jump from high atmosphere onto Sepros.” The Krath sealed the last gasket on his modified TIE pilot suit with a click. The suit was one of the only things capable of withstanding the high-altitude jump. As well, Locke was very familiar with it’s operation as a first class pilot. “You’re insane. Although I imagine you hear that often.”

“Obviously,” giggled Macron. “However that may be, you have to admit, this is something the Jedi will not be looking for. They will be looking at spaceports and landing facilities. Not at some rubes who walk in out of the forest.” The Warlord checked his gauntlet datapad. “Our gear and transport will be waiting at the drop site along with a few DSOG wilderness infiltrators to watch our campsite. Thirty seconds.”

“Our target is Anta Kinan, correct?” asked Locke though the comlink set in his helmet. “Old city on Sepros. Some human inhabitants, but they live in the ruins. You have done this before, I am sure.”

“That’s correct. I have. A long time ago… on another Clan’s planet, much to their ultimate chagrin. However, it is not likely the Jedi will come anywhere near the Temple of Steel or Fire. Far too many of the Clan there to out them. Rather, they will be looking for dirty little allies. Especially after we brutally crushed the Ekind Uprising.”

“That makes sense. Hide in the shadows, grow in power, and turn our people against us. That is what I would do, in any case.” Locke smiled under his helm. “My sources indicate they are expecting a weapons supply sometime in the next few days.”

“Your sources?” queried the madman, raising an eyebrow under his helm. “Truly, you are the right Krath for the job Locke. I’m impressed, as I was with your deft piloting at New Tython. You’d make a fine Sith.”

“My piloting? I see,” commented Locke. “You obviously have your sources as well. And you would make a terrible Krath.” The Priest looked nonplussed, although no one could see his face under the helmet.

“Indeed,” giggled the madman. “Although my first Master was a Krath. An excellent warrior. It’s time. Commander, open the hatch. Mark.” The howling thin air blasted at the two Dark Jedi and the squadron of Nihelengia as they jumped one by one through the yawning hatch. The leaders jumped first, as a good leader must be first into the fray and show no fear.

“Fear is the mindkiller,” muttered Macron as they drifted down through the clouds over the dense Seprosian Forest. The jump-foils each wore deployed as they reached ten thousand feet. “Through passion, I gain strength.”

Teu

29-11-2011 21:21:46

Onboard the Masarao
Approaching Seng Karash

Teu glanced over at her partner for this mission, her eyes narrowed slightly before turning to look at the city as it came into view. The Exarch moved towards the exit ramp, Jeric followed after. Teu had a scowl on her face, almost as if she ate a lemon, the aura of annoyance just waved off her.

The shuttle hovered several feet above the ground, its ramp opening long enough to allow the group to jump onto the soil below, Teu landed with her knees bent, Jeric similarly beside her. She felt around her belt for a moment before pulling off a bottle and taking a swig of it, she hated space flight and preferred to not do it, but it was part of her life.

“Not a bad spot if I say so myself.” Teu grumbled under her breath softly as she stood up taking stock of the area around her. She glanced back at the squad then at Jeric. “Any ideas on where to start this search for the elusive Jedi?”

Jeric smirked slightly. “Let’s go get a drink…information tends to be heavy in places with alcohol.”

Teu grimaced slightly. “Depends on the alcohol and are you paying? Plus what are we going to do with these guys?” the Exarch motioned with her hand towards the men behind her. “It would look weird for us to go through the city with these guys behind us.”

Jeric turned and looked at the squad, he pulled out his datapad and pointed to a spot in the jungle but still within walking distance of the city. “Set up a camp here. Teu and I will go do some scouting. We’ll have more orders soon. Come on Teu.”

Teu shook her head and capped her bottle before moving towards the city after Jeric. Her patience was going to be tested during this mission.

Shikyo Keibatsu

02-12-2011 22:58:00

Valhalla Plaza
Ruins of San Korinar
Amphor


As the Masarao moved in for a landing in the abandoned square, Shikyo fought to relay his final order to Katsuhide.

“Drop off any Nihilgenia that have not gone with their designated teams then come back here. The sooner we get the investigation handled, the sooner we’re back home.”

The roar of the engines made communications difficult but the sound of two brief clicks assured the Herald that his message had been received and understood. Cyril stood a foot or so back from the Elder before closing in, his Nihilgenia in formation behind him. Turning back in their direction, the Keibatsu spoke not a word yet let his mind communicate his orders to his soldiers. Each one nodded in unison and began to scout over the area.

Valhalla Plaza was much more than a shell of its former self. It was a ghost. Destruction of numerous buildings and the absence of makeshift markets turned the once lively area into a spectre of what it once was. The vibrant colors of banners and extravagantly flowing fountain were now bland and ruined, washed away by the atrocities of war. It was heartbreaking for the Herald to see his former playground turned into something so depressing. So many good memories had been washed away, leaving behind something that could not even be considered a husk.

Cyril turned her attention to the older Krath.

“You seem distracted, Your Excellency.”

Her voice was cold and direct, making a point of fact more so than showing concern for the man before her.

“Many good memories here, little one. And a lot of events I wish I had been here for. But that is neither here, nor there. Let’s start searching through these buildings.”

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

Approaching Amphor space
Orian system


Sakuya continued to look out in the darkness of space. She had tried her best to maintain her focus and keep her emotions in check. There was no emotion; there was peace. However, the peace was faltering with every passing image of her former fiancée. It wasn’t until the fully robed form of her master appeared that she finally found a beacon of the peace she so desperately fought to hang on to.

“Sakuya, you’re tense. Relax, breathe. Return to your meditations before we arrive to the planet.”

The human female smiled before shaking her head gently.

“It’s alright, Master Kohn. It has been quite some time since I’ve been this far into an area that has been so far corrupted by the dark side. But even then, this place seems to be corrupted down to the very core of the system.”

Darl Kohn placed a reassuring hand on his apprentice’s back.

“Then we will have to root it out, once and for all. Have the other teams begun their own missions?”

Sakuya nodded.

“Masters Tehrin and Polke are in Sepros, we have a team of Knights working Aeotheran, and Masters Zurak and Ayln’ohn are rumored to be on Tarthos. We just have to catch up to the vortex of dark energy soon. Something tells me we are coming upon the one called ‘Shikyo’.”

The Kel Dor looked at the woman with concern in his eyes.

“You mean, ‘Mifune’? Are you certain…”

"I do not know, Master. However, I will continue to do the bidding of the Force. This mission could help us finally find the Sith once and for all."

As the small transport came out of hyperspace, Sakuya made her way back to her room on the ship, pulling out an old trinket. As she popped open the worn, golden item, a faded blue image of two young people embracing each other lit up the area. Sakuya's looks were much younger, thought relatively the same and as she looked at the holoimage, she wondered if she would recognize the man in the image and the man on the planet as one and the same. Should that be the case, her heart filled with the belief that there could be redemption for him.

Sanarai Iridana

05-12-2011 00:31:48

Valhalla Plaza
Ruins of San Korinar
Amphor

Cyril's lip curled in disgust at his use of "little one", but she did not object. Instead she turned her attention to the buildings the Keibatsu had indicated, scanning them with half-hearted indifference. The Zeltron kept most of her senses trained on the man before her, attempting to figure him out, but so far no luck--with either of her endeavors.

"What exactly are we looking for here? There is nothing of importance, at least, that has anything to do with the mission." She kept her voice civil yet piercing, focusing her steady gaze on her more or less involuntary Master. Despite her current state of hostility there was a part of the female that wanted this chance, though to do what she wasn't sure.

Shikyo turned to Cyril and, though his expression was amused, his tone was anything but. "There is more here than meets the eye, youngling," he warned. "Don't forget that if you fall behind and forget your place in the process, I will leave you behind." He smirked and started forward, not waiting for the female but expecting her to keep up; she was by his side at once.

The Keibatsu gestured in a random direction. "Start searching," he ordered. "Try to talk to a few of the locals. I'll find you later." Cyril simply fixed her ice-blue eyes on the male and nodded once, taking care that the annoyance evident in her bearing did not make its way into her gaze.

"Fine." She inclined her head and headed away, disappearing among the ruins of San Korinar. One hand fell on the handle of her lightsabre and she resisted the effort to pull it off her belt; now wasn't the time. Not yet anyway.
It was always difficult to work when being watched, and Cyril could have sworn that the entire time she searched through the rubble of the once-great structure that eyes followed her every movement. The logical part of her mind remained focused on the task at hand, however, and she brushed off the sensation, approaching a few of the natives to question them about the events leading to the heaps of ruin that surrounded her.

After little over an hour Cyril had gotten nowhere; her frustration was beginning to show in her movements and in the tense way in which she held herself. She had found nothing, and for once her shell split; the Force was, momentarily, alive with the darkness of her frustration before she got herself back under control. The Zeltron snarled a curse and reached into her belt for her commlink--but she never got that far.

Whatever had been following her had finally caught up, it seems.

Roxas

08-12-2011 19:55:11

Tarthos
Markosian city
Yellow Sector
The Crossroads


The sweet allure of alcohol wafted out of the bar as Manji and Roxas approached. The small building was swaying in the wonderful sounds of the blues. Roxas looked to Manji with a grin.

“Have you ever been to a blues dive?” The Knight inquired.

Manji shook his head “No, are you going to invite me in?”

“Welcome to my little hole in the wall.” Roxas replied with a smirk.

The sound of a guitar crying was the first thing that the two heard as the entered the dive. Patrons were all sitting around watching the musicians pour their emotions through their instruments. The DSOG trooper that Roxas decided to let work the bar in his absence had his hands full with filling drinks. Roxas didn’t like anyone else working that bar, but if he worked out then he could do it when the Mandalorian couldn’t.

Roxas turned to Manji “Would you like to check the security holorecordings to see if anyone has been here, while I ask the patrons?”

Manji raised an eyebrow “Trying to get me to do all the work?”

“Fine I’ll check the holorecordings and take credit for finding them.” Roxas jested.

Manji laughed “Sounds good, I’ll just get a drink and mingle then.”

The Mandalorian walked to the back and the Keibatsu ordered some sake. Roxas sat at his workbench and typed on his monitor. The security holorecordings came up and he began sifting through them for anyone that stood out in the crowd. He noticed in the corner of the screen that Manji was sipping sake and flirting with women.

“Really? Well good luck if he get’s any.” The Knight said to himself as he continued searching the recordings.

Holorecordings
Two figures walked into the bar. They were cloaked and looked as if they didn’t want to bring attention to themselves. Roxas watched their movements closely; he even slowed the recording down to get a better look. He recognized their movements as Jedi. He learned from the war on New Tython. One thing that his Grandfather told him when he was young, was that one of the best ways to learn about something is to kill it and Roxas had done just that. He learned about the Jedi, by killing them. The two figures removed their hoods and ordered drinks. He stopped the footage and clicked on the monitor to see if he could get a better view of their faces. The screen showed a different angle and the Mandalorian smiled. He took the image and copied it to his data pad.

Tarthos
Markosian city
Yellow Sector
The Crossroads

Roxas stood and turned to his safe. He punched the code and the door opened. He tossed his NR2S into the safe and shut the door. The locks clanked loudly, securing the door shut as the Knight returned to the front of the bar to meet up with Manji.

“Did you get it anything?” Manji asked before taking another sip of sake.

The Mandalorian said “Yup, did you get what you wanted?”

A sour look came across the Pontifex’s face “No, she said I looked like a pirate with the eye patch.”

Roxas laughed “Well, you can’t win them all…” Roxas handed his data pad to Manji “This is what they look like.”

Manji looked and studied the faces, while taking a last sip of sake. He looked at the crowd while handing the data pad back.

“They aren’t in here, I checked…” The Mandalorian said as he stuffed the data pad into a pocket “What’s our next move?”

Locke

17-12-2011 20:52:23

Sepros Drop Point
Outside Anta Kinan


With his jump-foils deployed, Locke carefully adjusted his trajectory. Thanks to the Force, everything was more crisp and clear. He could feel a path through the canopy, onto softer, thicker branches below. Macron drifted a few feet ahead of Locke, making his own minute adjustments as they descended. Though air rushed by around them, Locke could barely hear the roar of wind through the shell of his tightly-sealed flight suit.

This is bloody crazy, he thought, nevertheless enjoying the relative quiet and momentary isolation. A few seconds later the tree line was much closer. Locke lost himself more deeply in the Force. Time seemed to slow. He could almost make out individual leaves.

Then, suddenly, a light inside Locke's light suit lit up, indicating they were at the proper altitude to slow their descent. Small thrusters ignited at first, and then his parachute deployed to slow him even more. Looking up, Locke could barely see a few of the Nihilgenia doing the same. When he reached the canopy, Locke pressed a button on the exterior of the suit, allowing the parachute to disconnect from the rest. He dropped, landed on a broad branch deep inside the forest, and rolled to a crouch. Macron had already landed on another branch nearby, and the Nihilgenia make landfall as well, crouched and ready on various branches around them, their weapons already out. Locke readied his blaster as well; they had all been briefed on the terrible creatures living in these forests. There was no sudden activity from the jungle; it seemed they had gone unnoticed by larger predators.

Noticing Macron had let his visor up, Locke did the same, breathing deeply of the warm, humid air. He could tell it had recently rained, and more than likely would do so again soon. "That's how you do it!" Macron said with a laugh.

Locke shook his head. Crazy old man, he thought. "Right, looks like we're all accounted for."

"Indeed, let's move out," Macron answered. As a loose group the team began working their way through the upper levels, across branches sometimes as thin as a barrel and often as thick as a small landspeeder. Occasionally they dropped down, using the shadows for cover, but they always remained near enough to the top to leave enough light to see. More than once they avoided some large creature that made its home in these levels. They could kill it, but that was not their mission, and it would be a waste of time.

Their arrival at Anta Kinan was heralded by the abrupt presence of towering spires of stone ruin jutting up through the jungle around them, worn from thousands of years of abandonment. Scattered stone and broken causeways marked areas that had once been a bustling city. Macron signaled the group to halt before they could get further in. Locke quietly jumped from his branch, to a small one, and over to Macron's. "We’re almost to the populated part of these ruins, " Macron said quietly. It seemed to Locke that he had a strange reverence for this place.

Locke peered into the tangle of wood and stone ahead of them. He could barely feel something different ahead, and figured it was whoever lived there. "Right, we could sneak in and look for signs of the Jedi, or walk in, scare the natives into submission, and search their settlements that way. What do you think?"