SvC: Children of Revolution - DJB Forum Archive

Macron Sadow

02-06-2012 16:51:51

Unknown location
Somewhere beneath the Sepros forest

“Interesting,” chuckled Macron as he peered at the tunnel walls. “Dug by droids. Smart. They tell no tales after being wiped.” The Sith smiled and looked at his chronometer. “The delivery to Markosian City should be there by now. Quite the diversion if I do say so myself. Too bad the big one won’t live long. Just can't seem to get the recipe right.”

“The abominations?” whispered Sildrin telepathically. “Markosian always seems to be a target. Why break the flow now?” The Krath snickered evilly.

“Exactly,” smiled the Sith Warlord as Trevarus walked ahead. A cold blue light emanated from the palm of the sorceror’s hand. It was more for show rather than need, as all of the Dark Jedi could easily see in the blackest of night. Or didn’t need eyes in some cases. even the commandos had low light vision visors.

Behind them, the Dark Prophet shuffled forward, seemingly lost in thought. That is, until he spoke quietly. “The Korun is in charge of that group?”

“In his own way from the shadows, yes my Apprentice.” Trevarus replied thoughtfully as they turned left down another corridor. “In his own particular paradigm. We’re close.”

Docking Area 47
Yellow Sector
Markosian City
Tarthos

It was a normal day here in the docks. Stopka unloaded boxes from an old freighter with the help of an aging ASP worker droid. The Iridonian was irritated. His droid was in need of repair, and the extra credits wouldn’t come until after this job. Someone with the right amount of cash and the right clearance was unloading “special” supplies, and he didn’t need to ask questions. The color of their credits was sufficient. A little smuggling here and there wasn’t unusual.Unfortunately for him, this cargo was Very Unusual.

As the Iridonian checked a sparking wire protruding from the ASP droid’s lifting arm, the sound of hatches opening behind him echoed. He turned around. Unbelievably, short shapes with red eyes and black leathery skin leaped from the hatches to pile on him with fangs and metal spears. They literally ate him alive, tearing gobbets of his flesh out with their now-bloody fangs and claws.The Sithspawn Ewoks then opened the main door to the hangar that led onto the street. “Dootah! A’gada!” they screamed.

Behind them, a nasty slopping sound revealed a dump-truck sized centipede-beetle creature.
It splutched forth from a liquid holding tank. Pink slime vomited from it’s gaping lamprey-like mouth as it cleared it’s lungs. It howled, spraying the cafe and patrons in front of the hangar with acidic mucus and slime. They began to dissolve with bubbling screams not unlike that of their murderer. It sucked up their liquifying remains with proboscis-bearing tentacles. The lone security officer on the street drew his blaster and fired, and the translucent shell of the nasty creature seemed to absorb the energy blasts. It crushed him like a bug with a squelching flop of it’s loathesome rubbery torso.

Multiple large reptilian shapes that seemed to fade in and out of sight followed it onto the street like swarms of snakes around their queen. Sithspawn Ewoks, A Taozin-Silooth hybrid and Hssiss had been released to raise hell in Markosian City.

Teu

02-06-2012 17:48:54

Sadow Palace
Sepros

Teu stood near the top floor of the palace, her blue eyes watch the shuttles touch down on the planet. The clan moved quickly when summoned, whatever had troubled the young woman lately seems to have come to rear its head. She wondered if many of those who came would be enough to stop the plight that lies before them.

A soft clearing of a throat alerts her to another person in the room. “Pardon me ma’am.”

“What is it?” Teu turned her face partially to gaze at the man. Her eyes narrow as she took him in for a moment, her hand fell slightly towards her weapon at her waist.

“There is a situation on Tarthos.” His eyes widened as the woman turned quickly and was standing mere inches from his face. “The details aren’t clear, just rumors of creatures in the city.”

“Well unclear them Sergeant and when the other board members come show them up here immediately.” The Proconsul stepped back from the Sergeant back towards the window she was looking out. “Dismissed.” She watched in the windows reflection as the Dlarit solider saluted and then left towards wherever he came home.

Teu grabbed a small flask at her waste, uncorking she took a small sip before corking it again. Under her breath she muttered “Seems the storm has come.”

Sildrin

02-06-2012 18:36:17

Unknown location
Somewhere beneath the Sepros forest

One of the tuk’ata raised its snout, making sniffing sounds as it sucked in the damp cool air inside the tunnel. Water dripped from the moldy walls, collecting on the ground to a rivulet. Trevarus Caerick raised his silver-encrusted hand, the liquid silver of the amulet glistened. “Careful.”, he announced.
Sildrin Sadow raised an eyebrow, wondering why a group of a Dark Jedi Master, a Dark Prophet and Equites had to move with care in a couple of tunnels. Though there had been many side tunnels, making it close to a labyrinth. Suddenly the tunnel gave space for a cave. Sildrin swallowed, her force senses confirming her idea of a very complex and large labyrinth. A narrow bridge lead across it, and wind howled around it. “What.. is this?”, Sildrin whispered. Trevarus replied in a low voice, his voice lightly trembled: “The Cave of Echos.”
Slowly the group started to cross the bridge.
“hello?...”, a voice came from the cave.
“Hello!”, Macron giggled as a reply.
“hello? …. hello? … hello?”. The voice’s intensity grew.
Trevarus frowned: “This cave captured the echos of the dead. People that got lost here and never got out. Lets us pass quickly.”

“Ahhh.”, a voice gasped. "Ahhh. Ahhh."
"Help me! Help me! Help me!"
"Is there anyone out there? Is there anyone out there? Is there anyone out there?"

Sildrin shuddered, starting to feel very uncomfortable. She quickened her pace. Macron moved his head left and right, following quickly.

"Please.. I don’t want to die! Please.. I don’t want to die! Please.. I don’t want to die! Help me! Help me! Help me! AHHHHH Is there anyone out there? Ahhhh Ahhhh Ahhhh Please.. I don’t want to die! Help me! Help me! Help me! AHHHHH Is there anyone out there? Ahhhh Ahhhh Ahhhh Please.. I don’t want to die! Help me! The Betrayer! The Betrayer! .. NOOOOO"

The voices turned into a crescendo, drilling right into their brains. Sildrin covered her ears, only wanting to leave the cave as quickly as possible. She staggered, and Xanos’s helping hand steadied her.

Finally they left the cave behind them. Sildrin still trembled all over. Even Macron seemed affected by the eering echos. She took a deep breath: “I don’t think I want to go back this way.”

“We are close.”, Trevarus said with a lowered voice.

Roxas

02-06-2012 22:44:17

Tarthos
Deep in the forest outside of The Ragnos Cathedral

Slug thrower shots echoed through the tall trees. Leaves fell as the trunks were hit with massive force. The Alchemy Experiment moved with great speed as he jumped, bobbed, and weaved as he struck and fired at several different places in his vicinity. He kicked up moss and decayed leaves with his movements and sweat poured from his body. The cooling liquid slung off with every muscles movement.
The earpiece of his comm chirped loudly, begging for a response. He holstered his pistol for a moment to answer the call. He clicked it on and the familiar voice of his masters wife spoke with conviction "Priority One, all Clansmen are to report to the Palace on Sepros immediately by order of the Consul. That is all." He clicked off the comm and laughed.
“So, it is as the Alchemist said…” he said as he sat down to rest “...Just a little while longer is all I need, just a little more time and I’ll be ready…” Roxas continued thinking of more than just the home he had found in Naga Sadow, but of the kin he had lost and what his next step should be. He took a gulp from his canteen as he thought I’ve told the new summit what they should do if they need me, so I’ll just play it by ear for now. He quickly typed a message to his girlfriend to let her know to stay away from populated areas for a while. He then pushed the comm back into his pocket.
The Mandalorian stood and spoke before continuing his intense training “ca'nara pirebu vhey cyare'se.” Whatever was to happen next he would be sure that he was ready for it.

Kano Tor Pepoi

02-06-2012 22:52:09

Unknown Location

Time seemed to have been moving at a snail's pace while the Mandalorian was in seclusion. During this time the man changed from a reckless war-machine to a ruthless monster. The monster had two goals in life destroy all of his enemies in the most painful and horrific ways possible and to ensure his family was safe. As the man sat meditating on the locations of all his family vivid memories from their past flash through his mind.

"William you can't." "Go. Trust me, I’ll be fine."

"Rise, a Dark Jedi Knight."

"You blew up the entire gorram building!"

Then the other memories started. Men stood all around the Templar. His was bound and tortured on a daily basis. When the Force lightning stopped there was only one recognizable face in the group that carried the man to safety and that face belonged to a brother.

beep beep beep

"Vod ca'nara."

Without thinking Kano's body made the fluid motions needed to stand and make its way to the small ships controls. The destination was already programmed and with a single button the engines fired to life and the Templar was heading home to Sepros, to Sadow Palace.

Locke

03-06-2012 03:30:23

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

“I hate waiting, “ Locke said as he and Teu stood in his spacious office, watching wall-mounted view screens of shuttles landing and Dark Jedi disembarking. Many of them Locke had never met or knew very little about. He turned back to Teu, looking around the massive office behind her. The place was absurdly designed, a monument to frivolous power. He hated it. It seemed so empty with only the two Dark Jedi and their YVH droid bodyguards. “I want to be doing something.”

Teu smiled slightly despite the ominous feeling she surely felt as well as he did, that disturbance that seemed to grow with each passing moment rather than dissipate. “It’s part of the job.”

“Yeah, well...” Locke let his words evaporate. It was pointless. Just then his comlink beeped. “Go ahead, “ he said, while mildly glaring at Teu.

“What did I do?” She mouthed, while Locke listened intently for a few moments, his glare becoming darker, eyes focused more in the distance over her head.

Abruptly Locke hurled the comlink past Teu’s head, sending it flying into the darkness. “Markosian is under attack.”

Teu didn’t seem surprised. “I know, “ she said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Locke growled, clenching his fist as he attempted to calm his frustration. Things were so close to being calm for a while. So close!

“I didn’t have any details and you needed to focus on other things, “ she said calmly.

“Well, now I know about it anyway. Blasted terrorists are at it again I bet! I want to know for sure though.”

Teu shook her head. “You need to focus on things here.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Locke asked.

“I’ll contact Kalia, have her send one of her people into it.”

“Fine, “ Locke said, slipping his datapad into his hand, “ but send someone we don’t need to be here.” He thumbed through pages. It had to be someone that wasn’t a factor in the Clan’s intricate plots. His eyes settled on someone new in the list. “Who is Setsuna Sakurazaki?” He had never heard the name before, but figured Teu still kept tabs on the system from her time as Rollmaster.

“She’s a new transfer in, not much background. Don’t micromanage me.” Teu brushed his comment aside almost casually.

“Send her, “ Locke said.

Teu scoffed. “I’ll let Kalia decide.”

“Fine, “ Locke answered, holding himself back from more. He was so used to doing everything himself. He looked up at the view screens again. “Let’s get this over with.”

Kalia

03-06-2012 11:02:59

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

"What are your orders, sir?"

Kalia's eyes flashed towards the lieutenant at her side for a brief moment before returning to the descending ramp.

"Standard protocol, full briefing." Her voice was sharp and to the point, leaving no doubt as to whether her orders were to be followed to the letter or not.

With a quick salute the lieutenant disappeared, Methyas nodding in agreement as the leaders of Marka Ragnos made their way down the ramp. Their shuttle had spared no detour in its route to the Temple and they were among the first to arrive. Kalia's heels slapped the ground with each step, the force of impact rippling through her features as her hair bounced in time. A crimson and gold flash, wrapped in dark robes in stark contrast to the lighter colours of the Aedile that kept pace beside her.

Her presence was met instantly, DSOG troops appearing from all directions as they began handing datapads to the Quaestor. They disappeared as quickly as they came, their mission to convey information to their leader and nothing beyond that. Her cold, blue eyes skimmed the data for moments before passing it on to the Miraluka beside her.

"I trust you'll handle these accordingly." Her silky tone seemed to coat the icy chill of her words.

"Shouldn't be a problem." Methyas spoke in his usual serene manner, no emotion showing upon his features.

"Kalia!"

Their march forward halted in response to the familiar voice, turning to face their Proconsul as she approached.

"New orders from Locke, there are--"

"Abominations in the streets of Markosian, I know." Kalia cut the Proconsul short, her voice cutting through like a knife.

Teu was startled a moment before continuing. "We need you to--"

"It is taken care of, don't worry."

Methyas chuckled from his position behind Kalia, despite his blindness the Miraluka could read the expression written all over Teu's face. Kalia on the other hand remained focussed on business. Her expression was one of a being possessed with purpose, uncompromising and hard. The lieutenant the Ragnosian Quaestor had spoken to earlier reappeared, interrupting the growing tension. He spoke in a hushed tone, insuring the Red Rose was the only recipient. With a quick nod Kalia turned her attention back to Teu, folding her arms beneath her chest once more.

"If there is nothing additional, I would appreciate if you'd allow me to do my job."

Teu appeared increasingly flustered, obvious anger and frustration from being micromanaged on two sides. Before she could say anything in response Kalia was gone, her steps echoing as she moved to meet a coming shuttle. Teu's eyes flicked to the Miraluka, the man was desperately attempting to pacify his Proconsul through the Force before she had a migraine.

---

"Hello, Setsuna."

The assassin glanced up with a start as a datapad crashed to the ground in front of her. Having newly transferred to the Clan she was an unknown, though she knew just as little about the woman who now stood before her.

"Psychological profile: Protective, Adaptable, Dispassionate..." The Ragnosian Quaestor raised an eyebrow as she trailed off, indicating to Setsuna the possible extent of her knowledge. "Quite an interesting dossier if I say so myself."

"Who are you?" The assassin spoke quickly, needing to know the variables and fast.

"I am Kalia Pheonyx, Quaestor of Marka Ragnos and director of a new initiative therein, and I have a simple question for you."

Setsuna raised an eyebrow, acknowledging the woman before her as she waited.

"Will you use your highly specialized talents for a purpose greater than you now serve? Will you extend that protectiveness to the House and Clan proper?"

Kalia stared at the newcomer to Naga Sadow, knowing the response before it was given as she signalled the nearby lieutenant to start providing the assassin with the necessary gear.

Atra

03-06-2012 11:23:50

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

Atra's eyes snapped open as the transport landed. He had spent most of the trip in deep meditation, seeking to come to terms with the new aspect of his persona he had discovered. With a heavy sigh he went through the motions as he made his way off ship. His eyes scanned the immediate area the instant he departed. A slight grin formed on the Dakhani Quaestor's face as he spotted his old master and the Proconsul. They seemed to be discussing something as he approached.

"Hello, old man."

Methyas' grin answered Atra in a way that required no words. Teu on the other hand, seemed quite flustered.

"What's with her?"

"It would be best if you," Methyas pondered his words for a moment before continuing, "aren't you... Just now... Healthier for us all."

Atra almost laughed out right but managed to keep himself contained as he pondered the point. As he gazed upon Teu he weighed what he had learned of her through combat and found himself nodding in agreement.

"Teu, you look well."

The Proconsul's eyes bore into Atra like daggers, seeming to weigh the worth of his life for a few moments before begrudgingly allowing the compliment.

"Thank you, I think."

Atra merely bowed his head in acknowledgement as he surveyed the area with his senses as well as his eyes. Many of the Dark Jedi had gathered here, most of whom he had never met. Despite his rank, he was very much a newcomer to the Clan and he suspected he had yet to prove himself to those gathered. Fortunately, he didn't much care for the trappings of politics as he did what was necessary and held himself to only one Judge... Himself.

"Are we to greet everyone individually, and boringly, or might we head inside to speak with our new Consul?"

Methyas shifted slightly beside Atra but the Correllian couldn't get a read of him. He never could, a fact that both aggravated him and caused respect. Atra himself felt somewhat uncomfortable. There was something off about this business, whether it be the location or something else remained to be seen. He had never set foot within the Temple of Sorrow before and couldn't say he was fond of it as of yet. Still, he immediately understood the naming convention as he felt the emotion of the place touch upon his empathy. There was a great concentration of life in the Temple, life that is and life that had once been. With that life came endless sorrow, a darkness that clawed at him with unknown intent. He shivered for a moment as a chill crawled up his spine.

"Gotta say, you guys know how to pick your architects."

Fremoc

03-06-2012 11:49:46

Temple of Sorrow
Sepros

The small fighter touched down outside the grounds of the Temple of Sorrow. The former Obelisk Sergeant of the Night Raptors emerged from the fighter and walked towards his brother, pulling his helmet. The Fist of the Brotherhood likewise removed his own helmet before extending his arm as his brother clasped his forearm. The elder Pepoi was already suppressing his Force presence, and noticed his brother doing the same.

"Always on standby brother?"

"Standard operating procedure of the Raptors. Be ready for a call by our Sergeant, and old habits die hard."

"Good. Ready for a fight?"

"Always." The brothers put their helmets back on and moved quickly to the Temple of Sorrow, "Using the eye patch again?"

"Its a bit less menacing in...social situations with the Council. Same with the glove on the hand."

"Finally blew up your hand?"

"Technically no. A random blaster bolt hit my saber and caused it to blow up."

"So you blew up your hand." The Fist of the Brotherhood chuckled at his brother as they entered the Palace. The Fist saw a group of clansmen moving deeper into the Temple.

"Shall we brother?" The two brothers stopped hiding their Force Presence's. The sudden rush of of Force energy slammed into the Kalia, Atra, Teu, and Methyas, causing their breath to escape their body for a few moments. The group turned and faced the entrance.

"Who is that?" questioned Kalia.

"Kano," replied Methyas, "And Fremoc."

Xanos

03-06-2012 15:33:30

Unknown location
Somewhere beneath the Sepros forest

After crossing the bridge in the Cave of Echoes, the group had arrived at a fork in the road, one path leading back up toward the surface, the other down, deeper into the seemingly never-ending maze of forgotten tunnels. Rather than going up, Trevarus had turned to the staircase, warning the others to be vigilant.

“Be warned... what you will see in the depths of the malebolge are not meant for mortal eyes.”

As they went deeper, the walls seemed to grow more and more damp, the mould becoming thicker. Every now and then, a droplet of stagnant water fell from the ceiling, splashing onto their shoulders.

“Wait.” Trevarus stopped. They had reached the bottom of the staircase. “We have arrived.”

“help us... is anyone out there... out there...out there... hello...”

The echoes returned as the sorcerer slowly led them back outside. Trevarus held up his gauntlet and the light from the gemstone grew brighter, illuminating the chamber. A lake stretched out in front of them. Grey mist hung over the water, and high above, it was just possible to make out the faint outline of a bridge.

“The Cave of Echoes again...” Sildrin said quietly. The blind woman did not step away from the staircase.

Macron frowned. “I can feel the growing gathering above us... if we’d turned right at that last junction, we’d already be at the palace...” Perhaps unknowingly, the deposed consul’s hand had quietly drifted to the lightsaber hilt at his waist. “Why did you bring us back here, Trevarus? If...”

Macron trailed off, but the implied threat was obvious. Betrayal was all too familiar to him now.

“betrayal... orian...beware... beware orian the betrayer...”

Trevarus glanced over his shoulder back at Macron. “Have faith, Alchemist, we are here for a reason—” While the Dark Jedi Master was still talking, there was a small splash when the troopers following moved into the cave and Trevarus jerked toward the origin of the noise. “Step away from the lake!”

The trooper in question started to step back, but found his foot stuck. Sergeant Mao and one of the others moved to help, and with a little effort they managed to pull the trooper’s foot out. Flakes of rust fell off his boot, which looked as if it had suddenly aged several years in the space of a few seconds.

The Oracle turned back toward the other Dark Jedi. “This is the Pool of Reflection, where the dead linger to take stock of what they did, or didn’t, do during their short lives.”

Sildrin finally stepped out of the alcove at the bottom of the staircase. “The Temple of Sorrow,” she said, understanding dawning on her. “We’re already beneath it.”

“Very good, my apprentice,” Trevarus replied, smiling. “All life is sorrow, and it is here that truth is made manifest.”

“i don’t want to die... don’t leave me... i’m sorry... forgive me... forgive me...”

Macron looked down into the lake. “That still doesn’t explain why you took us beneath the palace.”

Xanos stepped next to Macron at the edge of the water. “You asked for our help,” the Dark Prophet said in the blank voice of his that always seemed to come from both nowhere and everywhere at the same time. “Your Clan may have forgotten the ways of the sorcerer, but my Master’s remain eternal.”

Trevarus nodded in agreement with his apprentice. “You forget I spent time with the Watchers of Tarentum, Alchemist. To fight a war, one must first call on an army.” The Oracle turned to the trooper who had accidentally stepped into the Pool of Reflection. “Trooper, come here.” Trevarus nodded at a spot just in front of him and the trooper did as instructed.

Like lightning, the sorcerer’s metal hand punched through the trooper’s black chestplate, and then withdrew clutching the trooper’s still beating red heart between his silver talons. The trooper’s body crumpled to the ground instantly. The other commandos remained were they were; they all knew the price of failure. Trevarus crushed the heart in his amulet, letting the blood drip from his fingers...

Trevarus studied the dead trooper for a moment before looking up again at Macron, who was still staring at the shapes reflecting on the surface of the water.

“You asked us to fight a war for you. I have brought you here to call upon the voices of the past.”

“so empty... a void so empty...i feel cold... so cold... blackness...there is only blackness...”

The sorcerer looked out at the dark pool. “Let us begin.”

Many miles above in the forests outside, the air moved as something in the ground began to shift...

Malisane

03-06-2012 19:22:48

Marakith C&C
Aeotheran

Commander Lamak Dir sat back in his chair studying the screens. Since the departure of the Shar Dahkan Quaestor things had been quiet. He had not been fully briefed on the exact reasons for the Clan members departure, but it wasn't his place to know. He followed his orders, and expected those under his command to do the same.
A lieutenant turned to him in her chair. "Commander, we are receiving priority one orders from D:SOG Command. Identity has been verified."
"What orders?" Dir asked sitting forward.
"We are to commence a category one emergency evacuation from the facility."
The commander frowned. Category one was all personnel except for C&C and core security staff. It had never been ordered in the skyhook's history. "Does it state a reason?"
"It has been ordered to counter a significant risk of infiltration. Additionally we are to lock out all incoming signals unless they are from previous source."
Dir nodded. It made sense he supposed. "Very well. Sound the alarms, prepare the hangars for evacuation. Personnel are to make their way in a calm and orderly manner."
"Yes sir."
"What is going on?" he muttered as the klaxons began to sound along with clear and precise instructions echoing across the skyhook.

Level Seven Auxillary Station.
Marakith Skyhook
Aeotheran

Protocol droid TD1L, unfortunately nicknamed Tiddles by the more humorous of the inhabitants of the station, disconnected it's interface from the computer access point as it registered the evacuation around it. The false encoded signal it had transmitted had been successful. Now the only nessesity was to wait for it's next instructions. It turned as it's systems sensed an organic behind it.
"Hey Tiddles, what are you doing here?" a uniformed organic demanded, gripping it's rifle in an aggressive stance, "you're not supposed to be in this section, this is off limits."
TD1L turned. There was a risk of discovery being transmitted by this organic. It raised it's arm and snapped it's hand out grasping the organic by front of it's uniform before it could react. The organic opened it's mouth helplessly and screamed as waves of electricity surged through it. It held the organic for a short time until it sensed that life had ceased, then lifted it and carried towards the air vent. A few seconds later the droid replaced the vent and left the area to await instructions.

The Deathshead
Orian Space

Malisane sat back at the controls as the firespray patrol craft entered real space. By now the others ought to be about their business. He had his own task to carry out. TD1L should already have commenced the first stage. Scenario Hammerblow had begun.

Anochiir

03-06-2012 20:27:37

Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

The lieutenant provided the young woman with the equipment she would be needing. Stealth field generators, blade sharpeners and various other implements to assist her were placed inside one of the small packs she usually carried with her. The lieutenant turned to grab a few more supplies, taking his eyes off the young woman.

Most of the items would be left in a safe place until they were needed or the mission was completed. Her response wasn’t needed to affirm that she would accept her assignment, but she had given it anyway. Kalia didn’t seem like the sort of person you told no and Setsuna was never the type of person to turn down something that might be construed as fun.

The young assassin placed the pack around her left shoulder and stepped from the office she had been called into with soft footfalls. As the lieutenant turned around his thought died on his lips as he realized the girl was gone.

Transport Ship
Orbit around Tarthos

There was only the mission. This was the primary tenet that was drilled into the young woman from an early age. When on assignment, everything was secondary to the mission. She could not worry about her sister, she could not worry that her servants needed direction. There was only the mission.

She looked at the inside of the cramped vessel and muttered. She was unaccustomed to sharing the space with others; especially those that were not vital to her job. The Markosian city was under attack from terrorists and she was told to expect resistance. That was a word no assassin wanted to hear. The young Assassin checked her weapons carefully and discreetly, drawing as little attention to herself as possible.

“They say we’re to transport one little girl to deal with the trouble within the city,” remarked one of the members of the security force. “One little girl who hasn’t said a word to any of us.”

“We just follow orders, Corporal.” a brusque voice rebuked the younger man. “If she doesn’t want to talk, that’s up to her.”

“She looks like the Keibatsu...except for the ears. What do you think she is?” the corporal asked his superior.

“She seems human. Why don’t you ask her yourself? I’m sure she’d just love to play twenty questions with you.”

The corporal looked from his superior to the young Prelate. “I think I’d rather not, sir.”

Setsuna shifted her gaze to fall upon the two men and simply watched them in silence. Pale violet orbs considered them carefully before she gave them an empty smile. “I do not speak because there is no need.”

Her voice was carefully measured and dripping with distaste. “You are not vital to my assignment. You are simply an escort so I do not get lost on the way.”

The two men stared at the girl with undisguised venom in their eyes. They remained silent, but the young Obelisk simply shook her head.

They are nothing. There is only the mission. a voice called from her past. You will do your duty as one of the Sakuzaki clan and be done with it. Nothing matters while there are marks.

The girl closed her eyes and nodded slowly. There would be plenty of time to worry about other things later. Opening her eyes again, she pulled a datapad from the deftly organized pack beside her and looked over the information provided thus far.

Multiple targets of unknown origin. Her day always brightened when she could find her targets without the assistance or forewarning of others. The general populace was already considered lost, but she was to attempt to rescue as many as possible. A grim smile crossed the girl’s lips, eliciting a nervous hiss from the two men still watching her.

Turning to face them, she spoke softly to the men. “You will wait aboard the ship. The survivors I find will be sent to you and you will depart when the vessel is full. I will appropriate my own transportation back to Sepros.”

“Ma’am...” the officer began.

“I will not be questioned, Lieutenant. You will do as I have told you, am I clear?” her voice rang with authority and power as she spoke. The young woman didn’t even wait for affirmation of her orders before she turned back to the datapad.

Won’t be able to take any of this with me. It will only slow me down. she thought querulously. “Lieutenant, my bag will be delivered to the first of my servants you find, am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” the officer replied sullenly as they began preparations for landing.

Arion

04-06-2012 00:37:42

[OOC: I'm in the process of re-writing/retcon-ing a good deal of my character history, so if you go looking for more information on my character and find details that contradict what it here, what is here counts.]

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

The wind picked up, blowing almost violently, as the Duinuogwuin landed. It was otherwise unassuming personal transport, but was being attended with suspiciously little fanfare from the ground crew. Word had already spread about the incoming ship and its owner, and few people were willing to be within eye-sight when he disembarked. This despite the fact that Arion did not have eyes.

Two women, a Chiss and Twi'lek, disembarked first to secure the landing pad. Once they were satisfied, Arion disembarked. The Miralukan Dark Side Adept stopped at the bottom of the ramp of his ship, dressed in the heavy ceremonial robes reminiscent of his Order. Numerous arcane characters, many from the Sith language, were woven into the fabric of his robes. The few members of the ground crew willing to see to his ship shuddered at the mere sight of them. Among other things, they had heard that many experienced Dark Jedi envied the ignorance of the ground crew. Some Dark Jedi knew what those markings meant. The robe's hood displayed the most intricate, and somehow the most frightening, characters. The only portion of his face that was visible was his jaw. The hood somehow both hid and emphasized the Miralukan's lack of eyes.

Arion seemed to survey his surrounding without moving any portion of his body. His head abruptly turned, angled upwards slightly. If he had had eyes, an observer would have thought he was staring at one of the inconspicuous security cameras nearby.

At some invisible signal from their master, the Chiss and Twi'lek boarded the Duinuogwuin, and the landing ramp closed. Arion strode forward to seek out the Consul of Clan Naga Sadow.

One member of the ground crew watched him go. The Dark Jedi's robes barely moved, despite the stiff violent gusts of wind. He decided his mind was playing tricks on him and went back to work. He would join the growing list of people that would not come out to the flight deck before Arion had disembarked.

=======================================================

Teu and Locke watched the monitors as Arion's ship landed and the Miralukan disembarked, neither of them speaking for some time.

"Did you have any idea that he would come?" Teu asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of awe and trepidation.

"The message was for the entire Clan to return home. I thought he might." Locke's eyes did not leave the monitor, watching the Dark Adept intently. Suddenly Arion's head turned, and it appeared that he was staring directly back at the Consul.

"Do you think he'll support your efforts to maintain control over the Clan?"

"I have no idea who he'll support, or what he'll do. He's only been to Sepros twice since joining the Clan. Once when he first joined, to introduce himself, and once to excavate some long abandoned section of the Temple. I still have no idea what, if anything, he found from that excavation. Who knows how he spends the rest of his time, or what kind of company he keeps."

"What should we do?"

"We tread cautiously. He's both powerful and unstable. Unpredictable. And from the looks of things he has at least a pair of capable Apprentices, possibly more. And we do whatever we need to do to gain his support."

Teu nodded, and the Consul and Proconsul watched the Arion strode away from his ship.

They both knew he was coming straight to them.

Locke

04-06-2012 12:56:55

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

More than anything, Locke hated pandering to those more powerful than him. He would do it, sure, but he would not like it. It was a delicate art of giving them just enough of what they wanted to keep them happy, without offering them the whole planet. As Arion entered the Consul’s office, Locke cleared his mind. This was his domain, and he had dealt with Elders before, but he didn’t like unknowns, and this Krath Elder was full of them. Locke calmed himself, isolating his anxiety in one corner of his mind.

He spoke first. “Greetings, “ Locke said. “Your presence here honors us.”

The Adept turned his eyeless face, first looking over Teu and then Locke. The Consul felt like he was being studied. “The honor is mine.”

Nodding, Locke moved past the pleasantries - to him they were an outdated, though in some cases necessary tradition. “How goes your research? Did your excavations here on Sepros recover anything of note?” Locke didn’t really expect a straightforward answer, but it was as good an icebreaker as any.

“They go well, “ Arion said. “However, I need more time if I am to discover anything to the benefit of the Clan. I must have free access again.”

“I appreciate your directness, “ Locke said, “however, at the moment there are very pressing issues at hand. In the future, I will be glad to assist with your work.” He purposely tried to leave out anything specific, not sure how much the Adept would catch on. Arion surely noticed, but this was the game of politics.

“Indeed, what issues do you speak of?”

Locke thought for a moment and chose his next words carefully. “Certain elements within the Clan cling to outdated ways that would destroy us. Even now, they may seek to attempt to wrestle power back, through the only method they have left: open conflict.”

“I see, “ Arion said. “And you want my assistance?”

Locke’s lip twitched in surprise a bit; the Adept had seen right through him. “As a member of this Clan, it is in your best interest to seek a stable environment. Only then can I grant you the rights you need to continue your research here. The others...if they were to get back in power, would simply challenge you and attempt to wrest control of the operation away from you. Unlike them, I respect your research.”

“We shall see, “ Arion said. “I had a long journey, do you have quarters prepared?”
“Yes, “ Locke said, pressing a button on his datapad. “Room 13A is a luxurious suite that I think you will enjoy. Please return to the main hall soon, as the meeting will commence shortly.”

Arion nodded. “Until we speak again.” With that he turned and left.

Locke waited a bit until he had left the room, his shoulders slumping. “I’m not sure how that went.”

Teu frowned. “He seems just like all the others to me. Dangerous, unpredictable, and more bad than good.”

“He is not a Son, “ Locke said, “he could be of great use to us, if offered the proper incentive. What I said was true; if Macron were in my shoes he would refuse rights to anyone who may challenge him.”

“Whereas you deal with Dark Jedi who have motives beyond your care every day?”

“Yes, “ Locke said. Suddenly the door chimed, indicating another visitor. Locke closed his eyes. “Ah, my old apprentice.”

“Waldron?” Teu asked.

Locke nodded as he pressed a button on his datapad, opening the door. “Welcome, Waldron!” he said.

The young Dark Jedi Knight entered the chamber, looked around, and nodded. “Good to see you again as well, master.”

“I’ve heard all about your progress on Aeotheran. You’ve been busy designing Dakhani military installations, have you not? You do a great service to your House and Clan there. Mirado may be the Architect of Shar Dakhan, but your efforts have greatly aided the Clan.”

“Thank you, “ Waldron said, his voice calm, but tinged with a hint of pride.

“I’m glad you could come, “ Locke said. “There’s a few more things I need to take care of before the main address though. I think you’ll find your quarters quite accommodating; the walls are adorned with recent artwork of some of the new facilities on Aeotheran which you designed. I’m transmitting the location now.” This time, he pushed a few buttons on his datapad, transferring the room information and authorization to Waldron. “I would love to talk more afterward.”

Waldron nodded. “As would I.” He turned and departed.

When he was gone, Teu spoke up. “Way to inflate his ego.”

“What?” Locke asked sheepishly. “Can’t I spoil my old apprentice? Besides, his architectural abilities are a great asset.”

As Teu shook her head, Locke looked at his datapad. “It appears we have one more visitor for now.”

“Who?” she asked.

“Malik.”

“Oh.”

“Know anything about him?” Locke asked. “We’ve never met.”

“Not much, “ Teu admitted.

“Here goes nothing then, “ Locke mumbled, the door opening. The near-human neti entered the chamber, wearing the black and red robes of the Sith. Well, I knew that much. “Welcome, Malik, “ Locke said, nodding to the Sith.

Malik was calm, much like Arion, but Locke could almost sense a different intent. “Greetings, young Consul. I trust you are settling in well? And you, Teu Pepoi, still guiding your Clan, I see.”

“Indeed, “ Locke said as Teu nodded. Now why did he want to meet with us personally...

“It seems things are coming to a head. It may not be obvious what might happen, but it is apparent that something will. You may need some...strategic assistance in the near future.” Malik seemed to have sensed Locke’s question. Of course, he’s a Sith. For all I know he approaches the conversation like pieces of a war game, considering each option and possible outcome. How much did he know?

Locke nodded slowly. “Your assistance would be greatly appreciated. I would love to discuss strategy with you, but I must attend to a few more things before the meeting can properly begin.” That was all truth; the ‘war had left Locke with a keen eye for strategy and tactics, a subject he greatly enjoyed these days, though it could occasionally drive him mad.

“Indeed, “ Malik said. Locke assigned quarters to the Sith Warlord, and they exchanged pleasantries again before he left.

Locke turned to Teu. “So a Krath, an Obelisk, and a Sith walk into the Consul’s office...”

She rolled her eyes. “And we have more unknowns than before.”

“True, “ Locke nodded solemnly. “Malik was quick to offer his help.”

Teu nodded. “Good observation; though he seemed truthful; he may see you as a way to gain more power for himself. Such is the way of the Sith.”

“Yes, “ Locke said, thinking. “That seems to be it for visitors right now.”

“We have a few more preparations to attend to, “ Teu said. “First...”

As Teu began speaking, Locke struggled to stop thinking about the three Dark Jedi who had just visited. His mind reeled with possible outcomes, weighing the usefulness of each. He might need them in the near future, but hopefully not too soon.

Mirado

04-06-2012 16:03:08

Undisclosed Location
Aeotheran
Three weeks ago

A chill temperature set a living backdrop against the grim gray stone into which the chamber was hewn. The walls were glass smooth and perfectly level, marking the craftsmanship as quite clearly droid. The only light came from a series of holodisplay monitors, some quite large, but most smaller. Each was on, displaying all manner of violent action, though not the dramatized accounts, but instead footage captured by means of satellite, ship sensors, or even battlefield helmet cameras. Other bits were quite clearly archived footage from the Antei Combat Center. These were obvious copies, as the display was less than high resolution, but footage all the same.

“Tease,” a baritone voice said from the room’s one chair, set amidst these displays like some kind of big businessman in the middle of a corporate merger. “The footage is up, let’s begin.”

“Yes sir,” a tinny droid’s voice said, as it came to life in the corner, ultramarine blue running lights illuminating where it hovered like a ufo. “The archived data has been compiled. First subject is Xanos Zorrixor. Male Faleen, age undetermined, Sith order.”

Mirado pondered him a moment from his chair, before waving his hands through the interfaces, bringing the one once known as Vexatus to the forefront. “Faleen you said?”

“Yes sir.”

“Reptilian species, pheremonal control, correct?” the blind assassin asked, leaving the command to reference the droid’s internal encyclopedias hanging. He’d had Tease long enough that the little handicapped assistance droid could extrapolate the terse commands it commonly received.

“That is correct.” Tease replied, floating in his corner.

“Ok, run independent searches on common reptilian genetic markers, available chemical stores through Dlarit’s stores in the Orian system, mammalian genetic markers, Zeltron societal demographics, and scientific data concerning Faleen and Zeltron pheromones. Once you have that, cross reference everything and give me compound lists in the extremely high or low Ph, using Faleen pheromones as a catalyst for reaction.” Mirado said, the plan formulating as though by reflex.

Several minutes went by as the droid executed its searches, using only the most public information possible first, to minimize any flagging software from picking up on the work being done. “Sir,” Tease said after a moment, his synthetic tone somewhat worried. “Quaestor Ventus has changed his access codes.”

Mirado shrugged, shocked it took Atra that long to change all of his codes. He had to have known somebody else was using them. “Fine, use my brother’s.” he said after a moment’s consideration.

“Yessir,” Tease replied, and continued working. It would take a while to work out the materials Mirado could use to turn Xanos’ own body chemistry against him. It gave the assassin plenty of time to work out the next target.

“Raistlin Sadow,” Mirado said to himself, pulling up archival data. “How do I kill thee?” he pondered while watching Anteian footage. Aggression with the early points of Form 7, Echani master, and somewhat stronger in the Force, but Raistlin’s judgment was questionable in tactics.

Mirado stood up at that point and paced. This Son of Sadow was more experienced, but he could be felled in combat. Dirty, cheating, completely unfair combat, but a fight nonetheless could bring him down. “You can be murdered, good for you. What about Malisane now?” the assassin asked, swapping archival footage for the Sith.

This study took a bit longer, but the plan formulated all the same. LX-1 laser flechette mines would do the job. Plenty laying around in Dlarit armories, and it took care of the nasty Sith tendency to make their foes doubt themselves. Mines doubted nothing, after all. Plus, they could be activated by remote, by droid, any number of means. Yes, these would do.

“Sir,” Tease said again, at length. “I have the compounds available.”

“Good,” Mirado replied. “Emboss print me the list.” He said, kind of eager to get his hands dirty with the chemistry of biological weapons. After all, Macron Sadow, his very own master, had given the assassin such an incredible education in new ways to kill his foes.

“When you’re done,” the Obelisk said to his droid “Put in an order for a 100 count box of children’s audio recorders, ten cans of black aerosol paint, a vacuum sealed air compressor, and several spent diving tanks.”

Sadow Palace
Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
Now

Locke scrubbed his face with his hands, still trying to wipe away the stress of his position, and not doing so well at it. Teu had gone to eat, leaving the consul alone with his thoughts. As his hands pulled away from his face, he was startled to see the looming apparition that was his former employer.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Locke said, his voice a grumble.

“That’s the point.” Mirado replied. “You brought in another assassin.” He added, matter of factly. There was no jealousy in his voice, no anger, no nothing.

“It’s my prerogative as Consul.” Locke retorted defensively.

“Of course it is.” Mirado replied, still motionless. “You’ll need her.”

“You know her?” Locke asked. He wasn’t aware that the two had met.

“Know of her.” Mirado drawled. “Professional interest and all that. You’ll need everyone though.”

Locke nodded. He’d been consolidating his power base, and taking inventory of his resources for so long now that he could quote logistics chapter and verse like a holy book. In many ways, it was. “I’m working on it.” He said at length.

At this, the assassin nodded. “Let me take some work off your shoulders then.” He said, before tossing a small datachip onto Locke’s desk. “Happy Lifeday.”

“What is it?” Locke asked, not bothering to wait for the answer before sliding it into his datapad.

“Methodology and executable strategy to kill every known Son of Sadow.” Mirado replied. “I’ve got some of the party favors ready to go.”

Locke’s eyes widened as he saw the detailed plans listed by the names of those like Astronicus, Manji, Macron, Xia, and the like. “These are possible?”

“With luck, sure,” Mirado replied. Some of the plans were indeed longshots, but they were educated, and thought out longshots. “I never gave you those, of course. Anyone I’m not worried about will know my work when they see it though. I might be getting predictable.” At that, his face actually moved, his expression becoming one of concerned introspection. “Probably not though.” He said finally.

“So, you’re willing to help?” Locke asked after another minute, looking up from his datapad, and speaking to the empty air.

“I really, really hate that.” he said, to nobody in particular.

Tron

04-06-2012 19:30:58

Hidden location, Sepros

The Dark Jedi clasped his throat as he fought for air, his feet dangling a meter above the ground. He had done nothing wrong. In fact there was an old saying "Don't shoot the messenger," or in this case choke, aptly applied. He had simply approached his master to inform him of events taking place within the Clan.

"Sire, please," he gasped, "I thought you would appreciate my loyalty to you."

His master though, cared very little anymore for such betrayal no matter who it was. Lightning lashed out from the hand of Sadow and enwrapped the Dark Jedi's floating body. The blue lightning continued to pour into it as smoke began to ascend from the charred flesh. Sadow dropped the body to the ground.

"if you would betray those taking the lead in the Clan, how much more so would you one day betray me filth." Sadow said to the lifeless corpse on the ground, his face full of disgust. "Droids remove this garbage from my sight."

Two IG-100 MagnaGuard moved forward from their positions opposite each other at the entrance to Sadow's lair and scooped up the remains.

"Lieutenant Dorn increase security and double the watches." Sadow ordered his Delta Advanced Comamndo adjutant. "And see to it that the rest of my 'informants' within the Clan are removed from service. We will no longer be of use to us, nor do we wish for our location to be compromised."

Dorn, along with his superior Captain Cresh, were among some of the last remaining Delta Advanced Comamndos in service to Clan Naga Sadow. While unspecified DACs had been killed off or gone rogue one-by-one, they had stayed with Sadow and were his loyal servants. Programming embedded into them prevented treasonous actions on their part.

His presence within Clan Naga Sadow had for a long time been absent. He had spread many rumors as to why, as well as to where he may have gone away to, but the truth was really only known by a select few of the Sons and not even they knew of his hidden retreat. He would watch and wait to see how things played out from here. He had eyes within every facet of the Clan, organic and otherwise. There were no secrets kept from Him. Everything was proceeding as he had foreseen.

Sildrin

04-06-2012 19:56:51

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System
Novice Jardu Deledap nervously checked his blaster. It had been only a couple of days ago when he arrived to this place. "Clan Naga Sadow", he whispered, wiping a long black hair strand out of his pale face. He had never lived long at a place. His family living a gipsy kind of life. Travelling from planet to planet. Never settling, never having called a place home. Where his family was, there was home. But that had changed now.
Was this what he had wished for? Was this the place he would fulfill the call that made him restless, seeking for power and knowledge. He remembered the day he was sent to the Jedi Academy. But quickly his interests in the darker arts made the disciples nervous and the Masters sent him away. But then the Dark Jedi Brotherhood embraced him.

Jardu took a deep breath, entering the room. He folded his hands, bowing to his Quaestor Kalia. He raised and his eyes met blue eyes within porcelaine, framed by golden hair. His eyes could not stop admiring her ample curves.
Kalia said: "Yes Novice?", her tongue ran shortly over her ruby full lips; her voice as silk that gently glided over bare skin - silk that was cool to the touch and often left people tremble. Jardu started: "Kalia .. Milady.. Lady.. I.. Quaestor Kalia, Novice Jardu at your service!", he finally regained composure. He had expected a lot, but not a woman with such a radiating presence in this position.

Kalia smirked gently. She tossed her hair back, the golden curls trickling over her shoulders down to her back. "Very well Novice Jardu. You have chosen troubled times to join us. But this is the best time to proof yourself worthy to Naga Sadow."
Kalia reached out with a hand. A training saber floated into her hand. "It is a dire time, and times as these require you to carry the weapon of a Dark Jedi. Use it well. Use it on our enemies."

Jardu ignited the saber, the blue blade springing into life, his dark eyes stared at her past the glowing light: "I will, Lady Kalia. I will defend Naga Sadow with my life."

Unknown location
Somewhere beneath the Sepros forest

The voices inside the cave had stilled, as if their owners watched full with expectations. Trevarus smiled, his bright teeth shining through his lips; the heart of the solidier within his hand started to shrivel and the last drops of blood were soaked up by the silvery amulet around his hand.
At last only a charred residue remained and it flaked onto the ground when Trevarus shook his hand lightly.
Sildrin Sadow shifted uneasy from foot to foot as she took the by Trevarus assigned spot in the middle. The circle was closed by the troopers. She opened her lips, but her voice failed her - what did Trev know about her talent in focusing the force? Apparently he was very well aware of it, but did he also know about the possibilities he just was tapping in? All of a sudden she was afraid - afraid of Trevarus’s plans. Maybe she was just a pawn in one of his and his apprentice’s games... She shook her head, she had to concentrate.
Sildrin turned her head to Macron. “I will start with you, Mac.” The crazy Sith alchemist giggled nervously not know what to expect from this weird sorcery.

Sildrin closed her eyes; shrugging off the physical world with ease. Suddenly Macron felt a mental pull, a connection between him and Sildrin was established. Force threads were woven by the Krath sorceress. Macron focused his will onto her and the mental connection between them. And he saw with his inner eye how she picked up the energy, focusing it through herself. The flow - first wild and raw - steadied.

Sildrin turned her head to Trevarus; nodding. He smiled and stretched out his hand. A purple beam emitted his amulet. With ease the sorceress picked up the flow of energy, combining it with Macron’s energy. The threads began to intermingle, encircling her and rising up towards the ceiling of the cave.

The Daughter of Sadow turned towards Xanos. She knew there was no turning back now. If she tried to resist, if she tried to stop, the energy that coursed through her body and nerve channels would immediately turn her into ashes. Sildrin reached out a hand. Xanos raised both of his hands, energy crackled at his palms and between his fingers. The silvery energy wandered to the tips of his fingers and finally unleashed at her. The woman moved her hand as if catching a rope, forcing the energy to merge with that of Trevarus and Macron. The energetic forces turned into a chaotic raging maelstrom unwilling to amalgan. But at last it was pacified - bending to her will.

Macron watched the fragile woman in the middle of the focused stream of raw energy; her hair floating as liquid fire around her. Like a focus crystal, he thought, a living focus crystal. He had never seen anything alike.
The troopers twitched as suddenly their energies were sucked into the controlled maelstrom by Sildrin's command.

Sildrin raised her hands - the energy proceeded to expand, engulfing everyone, rising to a tidal wave high above them. Now Trevarus - her mental voice boomed through their heads. Trevarus clenched his silver-encrusted hand, blood starting to intertwine with the energy and he cried out “Spirits of the Ancients! Heed the call of your children and grant us your aid!”
A whisper rose from the lake, multiple voices intertwined: “You called Us. And We have chosen to aid your Cause.”

Sildrin finally dropped her arms letting the energy wave spill across the lake. Exhausted she fell onto her knees. The dark silent surface rippled, soaking the energy and the water fell silent yet again.
Macron laughed: “What now? Is that it? Some kind of light effect show?”
Trevarus scowled: “Silence. If not for your mistakes of the past, we wouldn’t be here. If you had trusted us earlier - as the Grandmaster has endowed his trust in us ...”, his words stalled as pale illuminated orbs rose from the water - countless orbs floating in the air.

Suddenly the orbs flew around them, partly disappeared into the ground and the ceiling of the cave, others merging with the troopers. Their eyes opened wide, taking upon a pale green nimbus. Their mouths opened letting agonised cries escape as the spirits were reborn in them, granting the soldier’s bodies unearthly strength.

Macron whispered: “This is impossible.”
Trevarus helped up Sildrin, saying: “No. It doesn’t take much to commune with the dead or to let them do your bidding.” Xanos dispassionately said to Macron while his mercury eyes rested on Sildrin: ”You need to know the right question and the energy, my apprentice.”

Anochiir

04-06-2012 22:21:22

Markosian City, Tarthos
Twenty minutes after arrival

The sounds of the dying echoed through the streets. Such a short amount of time to have held this level of destruction. Small furry creatures rushed through the streets mauling and killing anything in their path.

The girl unclipped her lightsaber from its place on her belt and ignited the azure blade. The snap-hiss of the blade was comforting to the young girl in the face of so many obstacles. The creatures seemed like the ones from Endor, but the images she had seen previously were very different from the ones before her. Gripping her weapon lightly, she found comfort in the energy’s hum through her hand.

One of the creatures turned and looked at her with red eyes blazing with hunger and undisguised hatred. It leveled its weapon at the girl and shouted to the others.

“Dangar!”

The sound chilled the young assassin to the core, but she smiled gently at the charging horde. There would be plenty of pain today and that was something she enjoyed giving. From behind her, the girl sensed something large moving towards her at a fairly high speed.

Diving to the side, Setsuna rolled to her feet with her back against one of the buildings lining the street. A large lizard phased into view as it approached the girl curiously. The creature was faster than the girl, but she had something that could stop it dead in its tracks.

The girl squared herself with the wall, ensuring that nothing could get behind her and faced off the charging horde of insane ewoks. Their chattering irritated the young assassin greatly and she lashed out at the first one within striking distance. The smell of charred flesh filled the area causing her to smile again.

The little furballs kept their steady advance unconcerned about their fallen comrade. Each one that was cut down seemed to be replaced by another. The lizard stayed near the fringes, eyeing the assassin’s lightsaber warily. The fight continued for a few more minutes before the young girl kicked out at one of the ewoks. As the creature stumbled back, she whipped her weapon around again to sever the beast in twain.

With another kick, the top half of the Ewok flew into one of his companions causing it to stumble only slightly. Augmenting her muscles with the Force, the Prelate took off into the group with her azure blade weaving in a deadly circle around pale flesh.

Breaking free from her position against the wall had taken more out of her than she imagined but shook off the effects of her own doubts. Turning away from the ewoks, the girl bolted for the nearest alleyway in search of a defensible position. Setsuna moved quickly down the alley before turning a corner and coming face to face with another one of the large reptiles.

Both the girl and the Hssiss seemed caught off-guard to be suddenly in the company of each other, but a fraction of a second later, they were each taking a swing at their opponent. Claws raked through the skin on the girl’s side causing her to wince as her blade neatly cleaved the lizard’s head from its body.

Placing a hand on her side, she pulled it away and looked at the darkening fluid. Swearing softly, she opened one of the doors and found a relatively clean piece of cloth and bound it around her stomach. Leaning against the wall, the girl winced as the dimly burning pain inside the wound turned to a conflagration. Focusing on the pain, Setsuna sank slowly to the floor and closed her eyes.

Calling one the Force again, the girl began to sweat from the exertion. Using what little power she had, she began to purge the poison as quickly as possible. After nearly two hours, the girl opened her eyes to find that she was still alone within the room. Setsuna rose to her feet and touched her side gently. The poison was gone, but the wound remained. She shook her head and stepped over to one of the windows. “Just going to have to get that patched up later. No time for it now.”

Moving her hand swiftly, she thumbed the comlink at her throat. “Cherry Blossom to Red Rose. Immediate assistance requested.”

Staying near the window, but out of sight, the young Obelisk watched the streets as the vicious ewoks patrolled the area, looking for her. “I hope someone got that message...”

Atra

04-06-2012 22:24:53

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

Atra stood by his former master quietly, eyeing Jardu carefully as he introduced himself to Kalia. As if taking a queue from the novice's own blunder the Dakhani Quaestor stole an appreciative glance over the crimson woman. Turning ever so slightly, keeping his vision open for possible threats, Atra nodded towards Methyas.

"What happened to Jeric?"

The Miraluka looked up with a jolt, clearly broken from deep thought.

"Huh? Oh, that. There's been a change of circumstance."

The Quaestor eyed the Miraluka with an icy stare, his grey eyes cutting through the skin and into the core.

"That rarely holds naught but grim tidings around here."

"It seems that way doesn't it?" Methyas' face turned calm once more before he continued. "Are you still looking for answers about your past?"

"I've thought about it... I suppose I should."

The Miraluka nodded, thinking a moment. "She may be of use to you then... She has a way with information."

"Is that what they call it these days?"

With a shared chuckle the two young men separated, Methyas returning to his quiet introspective and Atra approaching Kalia while stretching. His body was stiff and cramped from his travel and he found himself increasingly uncomfortable knowing that his location was common knowledge; the whole clan's location for that matter. He didn't like being the proverbial 'sitting duck'. It took a few short strides for his tall frame to arrive next to Kalia, the difference in their height quite noticeable. He tried to look down at her without giving off the impression that he was mentally looking down at her.

"Now that he's done drooling I suppose now is as good a time as any for introductions." Atra stated flatly, his nonchalance oozing like a second skin. "Atra Ventus, Quaestor of Shar Dakhan."

With a flash of gold the woman's head snapped in his direction, mesmerizing him for a few moments while he allowed some of the calm from his other self to flow into him. "I know who you are," the words were silk, caressing his skin and seeking to steal his breath. She flashed the briefest of grins as she chuckled, choosing to honour his introduction. "Kalia Pheonyx, Quaestor of Marka Ragnos."

Atra began to speak when a sudden crackle sprang to life from Kalia's communicator.

"Cherry Blossom to Red Rose. Immediate assistance requested."

The Dakhani Quaestor raised an eyebrow as a grimace crossed the Ragnosian Quaestor's face.

"Problems?"

"You could say that, the Yellow Sector is under attack."

Before the words were finished Atra had keyed a quick command into his wrist console, giving it only a passing glance.

"Signalled Mirado and Roxas to the threat, we'll see if they respond."

Atra's voice was ice cold and calm, without trace of the joking manner he had previously portrayed. His abnormal eyes shifted across the gathered crowd, focussing on the two unknowns who had just arrived. Fremoc and Kano, he had read reports about them. They certainly felt as powerful as they seemed in the logs. Their intentions though, of those he was unsure. He would put faith in them once they proved it.

Roxas

05-06-2012 14:44:37

Tarthos
Forest outside Ragnos Cathedral
The ringing of his comm once again interrupts the Mandalorian’s training. He stops mid punch to answer the call and learn of the new development. Roxas slid the comm from his pocket and opened the message.
Shar Dakhan Queastor Atra Ventus: “Yellow Sector is under attack by an unknown force. Assitance is requested to help female member of Marka Ragnos. Top Priority.”
Roxas pondered for a moment on what to do, there is no need for people to die needlessly
The Templar typed a reply “I’m in the area, I’ll handle it. You’ll owe me.”
Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System
Mirado approached the Dakhani Quaestor in all his blind glory “I can’t read the message you sent. All I know is that it’s from you .”
“Oh forgot you’re blind, I need someone to go to Yellow sector of Markosian and help an injured Ragnosian.”
“Ok, I’ll get …” Atra’s wrist console chirped interrupting the Miraluka’s reply.
Atra looked to his console as he spoke “Well that was faster than expected” he said in his usual emotionless tone “It seem Roxas will handle it, but I’m now in his debt.”
Mirado laughed “Hope you have deep pockets, his bounty work isn’t cheap.”
The knight’s eyes widened with confusion “Bounty?”
Mirado nodded “He mentioned that if the new summit wanted his aid, that they would have to offer some form of payment. So I hope you can afford it.”
“Do you think it’s too late to…”
Mirado interrupted laughing “Yeah, I do.”
Atra turned to the window with a single word “Damn.”
Tarthos
Outside Ragnos Cathedral
Roxas had already exited the woods and was now trying to steal a swoop bike.
“Come on you piece of junk, start” he said as he twisted wires together.
The bike whined to life and the Alchemy experiment hopped on. The swoop took off with rather average speed. Roxas spoke to no one in particular, but he was full of sarcasm “Great I’m stuck at the speed limit.”
Markosian City limits
I wonder if I should charge by the hour
Markosian City
Yellow Sector
it’s about frakking time
Roxas jumped off the speeder after bringing it to a stop. Screaming ewoks running behind him, trying to catch him.
He looked back and hollered “Hurry up! You aren’t very fast for enhanced versions!”
Roxas pulled his datapad from his pocket as he waited. He keyed in the sequence to show him the direction of her distress signal. He turned to face the ewoks as they finally approached. He got to their level showing his crimson alchemic eyes. They stopped in amazement. They began to speak in their odd furball language until Roxas spoke.
“I’m bigger, which means that I’m incharge.”
The ewoks stared at him for a moment and then ran off to find other people to kill.
Apparently the alchemist made me ewok resistant too
The Bounty hunter finding a small blood trail next to a dead hssiss, decided to fallow it. He found a petite young woman with silvery violet hair. He crouched next to her and checked her for an I.D. She woke up and seeing his glowing red eyes stabbed at him with her knife. Roxas caught her wrist and spoke “I’m here to help.”
“Then why were you touching me?” She inquired with a tine showing her exhaustion due to blood loss.
“I was looking for identifi…”
“And what about your eyes?!”
“Macron did this to heal injuries I had.” Roxas said as he removed the cloth around her stomach “It’ll take a minute, but I can heal you.”
She watched him, she had never seen him before and didn’t trust him. He laid his hands over her wound and focused the Force through his hands and into her gashes. She could see that he was slightly struggling to use the Force, but her wounds were healing. It took a while, but the gashes closed without a scar and Roxas sat back and took a breath.
“Not bad, won’t even scar.” She said surprised and happy that it wouldn’t scar.
“Thanks…” He replied “I learned it so I could… do you hear something?”
They sat in silence to listen to their surroundings.

Xanos

05-06-2012 14:56:31

In the grounds outside Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

Lightning flashed through the gaps in the jungle canopy overhead as storm clouds gathered above the palace. An ill wind was blowing through the courtyard, making the exotic shrubs and bushes rustle. You didn’t need to be able to use the Force to know when something just didn’t feel right.

The Chiss sentry turned to the Selkath standing next to her. “Corporal, hand me your goggles.”

The fellow blue-skinned amphibian passed his electrobinoculars over to her. “Here, Irella.”

The corporal hadn’t addressed Irella by rank, but the sergeant didn’t mind. The Chiss raised the goggles to her red eyes and keyed their night vision setting. It was as black as the void of space itself in the jungle, and even with the electrobinoculars it was difficult to make much out, but you could at least tell if there was anything was moving out there...

“The forest sounds angry,” the Selkath corporal said.

Irella didn’t doubt it. There had been noises growing louder in the distance for the past few hours...

While Irella was scanning the jungle directly ahead, a branch snapped somewhere to her left.

The two sentries swung round as the same time, their eyes moving to the gargantuan wroshyr trees to the east. There was no sign of anything, not even a mynock or small rodent... but as Irella listened, she could make out the distinct sound of movement...it was soft, indistinct, but it was there...

“Irey,” the corporal whispered, raising a flipper toward a nearby tree root, “I think I see—”

Before the Selkath finished, there was a loud roar, and a gigantic nexu came launching from the shadows under the trees, sinking its mouthful of teeth into the corporal’s neck. Irella let go of the goggles, instead raising her assault rifle to unleash a volley of blaster bolts into the feline’s side.

The nexu let go of the dead Selkath and cried out in rage, smoke rising from its shoulder. Irella held down the trigger, pelting the nexu until its side began glowing red hot from the heat. The feline whimpered a little and stumbled to its knees, but had still not yet fallen...

More howls answered the nexu’s cries for help from the forest behind the sergeant.

Irella spun away from the nexu in front of her, her finger never leaving her rifle’s trigger. Dozens of sets of red eyes stared at her from the jungle, their eyes glowing back at the Chiss like her own. The sergeant clenched her teeth, activating the emergency transmitter implanted in her back molar.

“This is Palace Sentry Seven-Fifteen,” shouted Irella, “we have a situation in the courtyar—”

Her last words were cut off as the jungle came alive, hurling itself at her in a wall of teeth and claws.

Malisane

05-06-2012 19:19:41

Marakith C&C
Aeotheran Orbit

Commander Dir watched the display as the insect like transport ships continued to ferry the evacuating personnel from the immense skyhook. He was satisfied, they had drilled for this on a bi-yearly basis, each had their assigned destination, but it was still gratifying to see the efficiency when it was real.
Lieutenant Mivlas stood and saluted. "The final transports are under way Commander. We are twenty three seconds ahead of schedule. There have been no incidents or injuries."
Dir nodded. "Very good lieutenant," he replied, "seal all the hangar bays. Until we receive the all clear any ships approaching Marakith will be given the warning to stay clear, and will be fired up if they fail to respond."
"Yes sir," she replied.
Dir sat back in his chair and sipped his raktajino, blowing on it slightly to cool it. "I would dearly love to know what is going on out there."

The Deathshead
Aeotheran Orbit.

Malisane sealed the heavy backpack, checking it's weight distribution. He didn't want anything going wrong. He walked back into the small cockpit and studied the display. Nearly there. He tapped a button to bring up the autopilot navigation data. Good. He turned and headed for the ramp, picking up the backpack and sliding it over his arms, checking it was tight. He waited, then feeling the ship slow on cue he pressed the ramp release button, holding onto a beam as the air sucked at him as the ramp slid down. With a deep breath he walked forward and leapt out of the ramp.

Free falling he angled his body to guide his descent, the air buffeting him around as he accelerated. Below him stretched the planet Aeotheran, the jungles, the lines of the rail network snaking across them, the ocean in the distance, and below looking like a model was the city of Seng Karash, a metropolis he had built up over the years and developed, expanding it from the simple mining town that had existed before, it's buildings and domes gleaming in the morning sunlight. And above it all the immense floating mass of Marakith, something he'd once described as his greatest achievement in the Brotherhood. Around it he could see the tiny insect like ships leaving taking the crew to their evacuation points.

He angled his body again changing his descent slightly. He had to time this right. He couldn't afford the luxury of a repulsor pack or parachute, his pace had to be rapid to provide minimum detection to the sensors. He supposed if it went wrong it wouldn't matter in a few minutes. Below him the city was growing bigger, and he could make out the spaceport, the commercial and leisure district where his nightclub had once dominated, the dome of the park with it's monorail system, the smoking carbon refineries, and the hundreds of thousands of homes where people would be waking up. Marakith was growing bigger as well, and he could make out the clear Dlarit logo stamped on the top of the disc. He angled his descent again as he neared it, the last thing he wanted to do was crash into the top.

The air acted differently around the skyhook, but now it was an anchor to which he could guide himself with. He fell past the main rim of the dome, just able to see the balconies and windows of the top level, and below the structure thinned out to the balancing spike below. Any minute now. Just as he was beginning to grow slightly concerned a force gripped him as the safety system detected his fall and responded. He felt himself slowing gradually. He breathed a sigh of relief. Like many of the members of House Ludo Kressh when the station was new he had occasionally taken the dare of leaping from a balcony at some party or other to see how far he could fall before the safety system reacted, and on one occasion they'd tuned the settings down before daring Macron to try it and the alchemist had just been caught in time near the bottom of the spike before plummeting to his death. Great times. He had been unsure whether it would work at this rate of descent though.

He allowed the tractor beam to pull him into a hatch and got to his feet. The room was empty, usually a medic would come to see if a member was all right but they had presumably been evacuated along with the rest. Opening his backpack quickly he pulled out his robe and slid it over his shoulders, and clipped his weapon belt around his waist. He closed his eyes searching the surrounding area. It was clear. Pushing the discarded backpack into a corner he set off.

Teu

06-06-2012 03:22:16

(ooc: This is a post to help someone find their way into the run on.)
Proconsul Office
Sadow Palace, Sepros

Teu looked out the window, her blue eyes watched as the clouds darken to a purple hue. She had left Locke to prepare his address to the Clan. She had a small matter to attend to, it was mostly personal. In her on hand she had her commlink that the Exarch was talking quickly into in barely above a whisper.

“Get them off that planet and taken them somewhere that isn’t in this system.” Teu growled to the unknown person. “I want them safe. They mean the world to me; just get off world. And away from here.”

Teu closed the link before turning towards the door into her office, a new presence stood outside of it. She had invited them here, on her desk sat two small tumblers of an amber liquid. “Enter Shirai”

The door opened and in walked a middle aged man, he was a head taller than the Proconsul and walked with a purpose.

“Welcome to the Clan, while I wish the circumstances were different. The consul has all of the clan in the Great hall, however I couldn’t pass up a drink…and wish you good luck in your endeavors in the clan whatever those are. “Teu pointed to one of the tumblers. “My favorite ale, sorry if it’s not to your liking.”

Shirai moved towards the desk, he picked up the glass and quickly sniffed the liquid before taking a small sip a small smile pulling at his lips. “This was a rare beckon. Do you often call a random person to your office for a drink?”

“Just those that I am curious about, Dupar.” Teu picked her glass up and drained it quickly. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Now before we have to go listen to the Consul speak, tell me what brings you back here.”

Shirai

06-06-2012 04:57:53

Proconsul Office
Sadow Palace, Sepros

It took some getting used to. It took years of meditating in the Outer Rim for him to come to a decision about where true power lay. It was not with Plagueis. That was how Shirai found himself on Sepros, trying to find a better path to true power. What other way than to follow the prestigious Clan Naga Sadow. The Sith Warrior was heading towards the Proconsul's office at her request. There was something big going on, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, with what the entire clan being called in. Clad in his Sith armor he felt that there was going to be a situation at hand. The Force never lies.

After reaching the door he was beckoned to come in, and welcomed to a drink by Teu who also asked him a very interesting question, "...tell me what brings you back here?"

A heavy question at that, but not one he was going to give a full answer to, but he would answer without giving to much information. "Thank you, and my skirmish with Naga Sadow has long since passed. I have seen that this clan is a clan of power. It just so happens that I am loyal to power. So I have renounced my old ways, and decided to offer my allegiance to this almighty clan. I'm amused that..this has at least, piqued your interest, my lady." He said, with his eyes untrained on her but on the glass in his hands.

With that Shirai drained the liquid in his glass, it burned on its way down to his stomach. Slightly giving him goosebumps, the first cup always did that for some reason. Or maybe it was because of the new problem he would have to face, testing his true loyalty to the clan, sooner than expected.

Methyas

06-06-2012 11:55:04

Temple Grounds, New Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian system

The sudden outburst of Force energies from the Fist of the Brotherhood and his half-brother seemed impressive to most of the Journeymen of Sadow; but the shockwave that had been sent along with it had placed the surrounding Disciples on the defensive, their hands reactively grasping their weapons as they turned to face the new arrivals. A slight chuckle escaped the eldest Pepoi as his arms remained tightly folded upon his chest, his sibling's hand tightening its own grip upon the blasters at his hips as the tension around them seemed to blossom into a dense fog threatening to suffocate everyone present. The Fist's eye remained locked upon his Cousin as the pair seemed to stare each other down, though the Miraluka could never truly stare someone down when his sight surrounded him as did the ever flowing Force. The pair of elder Pepoi had believed they arrived unseen, their stealthy movements through the system and the planet's extensive jungles unnoticed by the distracted Clansmen of Naga Sadow; but in the back of their minds they known something otherwise.

A slight smirk crossed Methyas' face as he heard Kalia's rethorical question, "Who is that?"

The pair of Ragnosians had known the instant Fremoc and Kano had entered Orian, their contacts and agents kicking into action and shadowing their targets for as long as necessary to give their Directors the information they required. The Miraluka's voice rose up serenly, more for Atra's benefit and for theatrics, "Kano and Fremoc."

The air about them all remained tense but the edge was beginning to ebb away, the point of origin of the sudden soothing atmosphere not too much of a surprise to the Dakhani Quaestor as he turned to glare at his former master, Kalia looking towards Methyas with a subtle movement before the Miraluka nodded in turn, the woman taking her chance to speak plainly, "The Fist is here by request of the Grand Master, stand down."

She paused, only long enough for Kano to remove his grip from his blasters, the tension fading before she continued, "For someone of your station and informed of what's going on, it might have been an idea to..."

She trailed off, focusing on the message transmiting through the receiver in her ear before she turned to her Aedile, the serene Jedi having heard the message through his own receiver, before a few works of jibberish seemed to pass from her lips. They were responded to in turn with equivilant jibberish, obviously a code of some sort before Kalia started towards the temple, her voice rising up over the approaching howls and blaster fire, "Fremoc and Kano, come with me. We need to see the Consul to explain why a Son walked right into the hornet's nest before hell broke loose."

As the Ragnosian quaestor reluctantly left the courtyard, Methyas turned to face the assembled Disciples, his voice unusually powerful as he began to speak, "Equites, at the ready! Everyone move to defend the Palace!"

Atra looked towards his former Master, unsure of the sudden command before the Miraluka explained through their bond, the unspoken conversation swifter than vocalizing everything before the young Corellian began to rally the surrounding Disciples, moving towards the front of the pack with his saber hilt in hand before Methyas started towards the temple interior to help Kalia explain the situation to Locke; they would need to act swiftly with the sudden Nexu attack on the Palace and the state of affairs at Markosian.

Xanos

06-06-2012 14:43:41

Temple Grounds, Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

Gunfire pounded through the novice’s head as Jardu passed underneath the grand entrance doors and charged out into the courtyard. High above, on the walls surrounding the gardens, massive turbolaser batteries thundered, firing crackling green volleys into the trees blanketing the area.

Down the steps, guns and lightsabers flashed where battle had already been joined. A marine in the blue-and-black armour of the Dlarit military screamed as one of the huge feline predators launched itself on top of him, clawing at the soldier’s chest and throat, its talons dripping red with blood.

Growling with hunger, the creature looked back around and glanced up at Jardu. The savage beast’s eyes glowed with an unnatural light, as if possessed by the fire of hell itself. It growled again, before turning back and burying its head into the fallen marine’s chest as it fed...

The journeyman did not recognise many faces as he leapt down the staircase, the unfamiliar training saber that Quaestor Kalia had given him only minutes ago springing to life with a crisp snap-hiss in his ear. In his other hand, his trusty blaster was already unloading into the nearest pack of creatures...

Inside Remy Dlarit’s quarters
Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

Outside the window, flashes of battle filled the courtyard far below as another clap of thunder shook the assorted figures of long dead Sith Lords that were arranged on the windowsill. Remulus jumped at the noise and his mother pulled her arm around him; he might have been the heir to an ancient empire, but he was still just a boy. Sakura looked down at her son.

“Something...” the boy searched for words to describe what he was feeling in the Force, “...bad is happening, mummy,” Remy held the arm she had wrapped around him. “I wish daddy were here.”

Sakura hugged him back but didn’t say anything.

Remulus’s fear was the same as hers. Tron had been away too long. She wanted him home, too; his son was growing up without his father, and increasingly she didn’t know who she could trust to look after him. There had been Ashura Sadow once, but... then he was captured by that organisation; yes, the Son of Sadow had been rescued, but he’d never been the same, and after what had happened...

Sakura shook her head a little, causing Remy to briefly glance up at her; she smiled back, and the boy turned back to the gathering clouds outside the window. No, she didn’t know who she could trust in the palace anymore, not the Sons of Sadow, and certainly not the rest of the Clan... she barely even knew who this Sonjie person was, or either of his two new lieutenants...

She brushed a red lock of hair out of her eye which had fallen down when she shook her head. Sure, she had her way out... but without Tron? Where were they meant to go? Who was there to rely on?

As if right on cue—or perhaps it was the will of the Force... she held back a snort at such a banal thought—the personal comlink in her pocket began to beep. Remy looked up at her again, and she nodded before taking her arm off him and fetching the device from inside her jacket.

“Osk Sigma Dorn One,” Sakura said, keying the device and quoting her authentication code.

When the caller answered, her breath caught in her throat and her son jumped back from the windowsill.

“Is he safe?”

After all this time, no small talk, no introductions. His voice sounded hard, tired.

“Dadd—”

Sakura raised her hand to cut Remulus off.

“Remy’s right here with me in his room,” Sakura replied to Astronicus. “Where’ve you been?” If it sounded like an accusation, it was because it had been; he’d left her and his son here, with no support, without any way to contact him. How was she meant to feel? Yes, he’d left Tsainetomo... but the Korun had gone native a few months afterwards. Wherever he’d been, if Tron hadn’t heard about what was happening—and he must have done!—he must have felt Remy’s constant fear.

“Your son hasn’t slept for months, Tron,” Sakura whispered into the transmitter, keeping her voice quiet enough so that Remy hopefully wouldn’t hear... although she knew it was pointless to try and hide her own anxiety from a Force-wielder, even one as young as her son. “And after this coup...” It was a blessing nobody but the Sons of Sadow knew about Remy’s true father...

“Uncle Sai left us, daddy!” Remy shouted up into the mic before Sakura could hush him.

Astronicus’s reply did not come straight away; he was probably giving her a few moments to collect her thoughts and get her breathing under control; she hadn’t until just then realised that her chest was heaving up and down as she allowed herself to finally give in to the stress after all this time...

“My contacts in the palace have been keeping you safe,” Astronicus finally replied. There was an edge in his voice that made her uncomfortable. “A transport is waiting in the underground hangar. You are to leave the palace tonight.”

What? The look on Remulus’s face was surely mirrored by her own.

“Wait, what’s going on, Tron?” Her heart was racing. “If Remy’s in dang—”

“No harm will come to my son,” Astronicus bellowed voice over the comlink channel, and Sakura was sure the lights above her flashed.

Remulus let go of her arm and quickly shuffled back into the window in front of Sakura, his face going white as his fear returned. Sakura herself swallowed, but she couldn’t find her voice to reply...

“Everything has been prepared,” Astronicus continued. “What follows next is for others to decide.”

“O-okay,” stuttered Sakura finally. “We-we’ll pack our things, and...”

“No,” Tron interrupted. “Events beyond my control have already been set in motion. Take only what you can carry, and meet the guard I’ve sent in exactly one hour’s time from when this call ends.”

“But what about—”

“He has returned,” seethed Astronicus. There was only one man that brought that much anger to his voice, a man he hated so forcefully he couldn’t even bring himself to say the name. A chill ran up Sakura’s spine at the memory of what had happened on the Star Destroyer Harbinger all those years ago. “Do not let my son out of your sights,” Tron added, before the channel went dead.

As the channel died, the palace alarm siren began sounding over the room’s speakers.

“Mummy! Monsters!” shouted Remulus.

Sakura looked up at the window to see a fang-filled mouth staring back at her through the glass.

Locke

07-06-2012 01:32:18

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

Unity or strength...which to focus on... Trying to decide his speech was proving difficult. Locke thought of just winging it. As the Consul came around a corner, all thoughts of the speech escaped his mind. There stood the Quaestor of House Marka Ragnos and two skilled Obelisks Locke had not seen for a long time. He had met them both on missions, long ago, but times had changed. By this point, Locke was beyond surprise and anxiety when it came to those stronger or higher ranked than himself. “I thought I recognized you, my lord Fi-”

“There you are!” Kalia broke in. Locke now noticed the angry expression on her face. That couldn’t be good. “The palace is under attack, and we didn’t know because the Fist here was showing off!”

Locke looked from Fremoc to her and back again, spreading his hands as if to say don’t look at me. He assumed she still had a head because she was close to the Pepoi family. Just like everyone else I kriffin’ work with! “By what?”

“Creatures. Animals. From the forest.”

Locke scoffed. “If they’re just animals, have Dlarit take care of them. We have more pressing issues going on.”

Kalia placed her hands on her hips and opened her mouth before a new voice joined the conversation. “They’re not just animals, “ Methyas said. “Something else is at work here. They’re ignoring our defenses and already climbing the temple walls.”

“Ignoring defenses?” Locke asked incredulously. “You can’t just ignore turbolasers and half an army, not even the Vong did that!”

Methyas smiled at Locke’s reaction. “Regardless, they’re on the walls.”

“Literally climbing walls?”

“Yes.”

“Great, “ Locke said. He wanted to crush his anger, but instead channeled it. It scared the young Dark Jedi how he was beginning to use that like others of his kind, but he wasn’t about to give up something that gave him much needed focus. “Kalia, go to the Great Hall, arouse the Dark Jedi gathered there, we need their help.”

As she nodded and turned to leave, Locke fished a comlink from his pocket, contacting Teu at her office. “Teu, I need you to...” he trailed off as she started yelling into his ear. “Yes he’s here, but...I...fine.” Locke held out the comlink for Fremoc. “It’s for you.”

While Fremoc sighed and took the comlink, Locke’s datapad was suddenly in his hand, a head holoprojecting above it. “Captain, I need you to lock down every exit to the facility. No one gets in. That order comes directly from me. Triple the guard, and enact protocol F-Upsilon-Omega. Arm your men with slugthrowers and bust out the heavy weapons. No man sleeps or rests until I say so, understood?” After a curt reply, he continued. “You will coordinate with Imperator Malik, he will assist in your defense. No one will surprise us today.”

Methyas’ eyebrows were raised. “Angry?”

“You bet, “ Locke breathed.

“You might not like what I have to say then.” Methyas didn’t stop, he let it all out. “While my cousin over there was making his grand entrance, something else was going on. Did you feel it?”

Locke closed his eyes, spreading his Force presence. There was the darkness, the nexus of so many Dark Jedi gathered in one place...”What?”

“Something happened a short while ago. Directly below us. You might not have detected it because of all the Dark Jedi around, but someone...specially attuned would have. Something happened, something only those very strong in the dark side could pull off.”

For a moment, it all sank in. Locke knew what ‘specially attuned’ meant, or had a good idea. He and Methyas had never directly addressed the Obelisk’s perception of the Force or his particular way of viewing it, but Locke had had his suspicions for quite some time. He had kept quiet, considering the Miraluka a great ally and excellent resource, and that was continuing to prove fruitful. “Your conclusion?” was all Locke said.

“Powerful forces move against us.”

“Macron?” Locke wondered aloud. Had the deposed Consul returned for his revenge? In the maelstrom of dark energy around the temple, Locke could not make out the mad alchemist’s particular trace.

“Could be, “ Methyas said, “if it is, he brought friends.”

“Great, “ Locke said. He readied his datapad, typing away at it.

“You don’t seem that shocked, “ Methyas continued. “What are you doing? What is protocol F-Upsilon-Omega?”

Putting the datapad away, Locke turned to Methyas. He breathed quickly, almost excitedly. “I knew he would return. I’ve prepared measures. I’m ready for him. That protocol -that is intended specifically for situations where our special ops forces would face Dark Jedi. Slugthrowers, assault cannons, it’s all there, except ysalamiri, difficult little buggers to get your hands on these days.”

Methyas seemed surprised. “You’ve learned.”

A Mechu Deru-enhanced YVH war droid entered the cross corridor, stepping to Locke’s side, the Krath runes adorning it’s laminaium-bolstered body armor faintly glowing. Behind it two Dlarit Special Forces soldiers rolled a large crate between the Dark Jedi and popped it open, exposing the weaponry within. Locke reached in with both hands and pulled out a hand-held assault cannon. “From the best. Kano, care for a little walk outside?”

Kano looked to Fremoc, who was still on the comlink, and the two shared a nod. “Gladly, “ came the cool reply, filtered through the mouthpiece of his helmet.

“Great, “ Locke answered enthusiastically as he propped the assault cannon against his body and placed a headset over his dusty-colored hair. Connected directly to his datapad and by extension the Clan’s communications network, it would allow him to switch channels with voice commands and command the Clan’s forces without needing to put down the cannon. Once it was in place, he readied the weapon again and nodded toward the entrance. “Let’s go.”

As they began walking, Kano took the lead, with Methyas walking beside Locke, lightsaber unignited in his hand. Locke knew Fremoc would catch up if he was coming. “You know this is about to get messy, ” Methyas said.

Locke stared straight ahead. “Yep.”

“You don’t seem worried anymore.”

“Nope.”

The entry way was in chaos as they approached, a thin line of Dlarit soldiers firing into a wall of terrifying denizens of the forest. Among them, the Dakhani Quaestor’s lightsaber was blazing as he cut down any that came too close. “Methyas, your apprentice really does seem to be doing well for himself, check on the wounded behind him, see if you can get them patched up, and remain...vigilant.” There was no need to specify what ‘vigilant’ meant in this case.

Methyas nodded and headed toward the rear of the front line. Locke approached halfway and looked around, noting a creature climbing up one wall. He gestured at it with his assault cannon. “Kano, would you kindly get that eyesore off our temple? Thanks.”

As the Templar nodded and moved off to get closer to the building, Locke approached the line. He ignored a nexu on the way, letting the YVH droid mop it up. The line would be held. Drawing on his experience as a soldier, Locke found the weakest link in the line and filled it. The YVH droid’s blaster cannon began to whine again just as Locke raised his own weapon and caught a boma in the face with one of his own firey shots. He sent another volley at it, Krath cloak billowing in the air behind him. Whereas most of the Dlarit soldiers knelt on one knee for a better shot, Locke launched rounds of explosive fire at the creatures attacking them, destroying some and causing terrified howls from others.

Never taking his eyes off the battlefield in front of him, Locke smiled grimly and mumbled to himself. “Your move, Macron.”

Macron Sadow

07-06-2012 19:36:25

Unknown location
Deep Beneath the Temple of Sorrow
Sepros

“I’m sure they will have contingency plans, of course. Any prudent leader would. And that they are. Intelligent as well.” Macron looked thoughtfully as the twin Elders whispered to each other with their minds nearby. Around them both the commandos checked gear and weaponry.
“I imagine like Tsainetomo they will employ slugthrowers or magnacasters to avoid reflected bolts.” Whispers and echoes flitted past, the cobwebs of spirit that polluted this place for all time. “I would. Or disruptors.” The Sith checked his own gear, and fingered the hilt of the Sword of Shar Dakhan as he muttered evilly under his breath. “Locke.... I’m coming for you. Your suffering will be legendary even among the Sith.”

“What of your apprentice?” asked Sildrin with her own mental whisper. “If you trained him, he could be a problem. He knows your secrets.” The Krath smiled. Her smile had a more than passing resemblance to that of a cobra right before it strikes. “That’s unfortunate.” Around them the weavery of the Sorcery that Trevarus and Xanos had woven faded as the ritual completed. The very air seemed to snap back like a broken string on a viciously played violin. Above them, all Hell was breaking loose.

“Mirado knows what I chose to show him. He felt I had nothing more to teach him- and he was right in some fashion. Or that I wouldn’t teach him. True, he does know some of my secrets. But then again, I deliberately misled him on some points. As any good Sith would.” The madman chuckled wickedly. “I’ll not be making the same mistake Lord Plagueis did. I also nearly Force-choked him to death last time we met when the coup happened. He’ll be angry and want revenge, I imagine. Dun Moch should be effective. Still I would not underestimate him.” The Warlord frowned. “Unfortunate, but to be expected. Such is the Final Way.”

“They have those damn droids,” replied Sildrin. “The ones you ordered from the Dark Council. They are rather nasty.” The faint breeze from the upper fanes rustled her hair. “Of course, you did program them no?”

“I did,” agreed the alchemist. “Too well, probably. Nasty buggers. I never expected to be deposed like that.” he placed one hand on the stone wall nearby, feeling for vibrations with his eyes closed. “They are fighting up there, but it is hard to feel....”

“Then I have something for them,” smirked Xia Long as she slipped a metallic band from her belt pouch. “Of course I have a back-door into all your code. I was the Seneschal, after all.”

“Kark me!” snarled Macron as his freakish eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Truly?”

“I always have,” whispered the Blind Dragon mentally. “You of all people should know this. Just because I have been … out of sight, no pun intended, does not mean I have not been watching.” Her fingers gently touched the modest bracelet of seeming platinum. Within, a tiny purple light shone after her touch. “I’ve activated the shut down. In one hour, those droids will quit working for some hours until they get the programming patched. I hate to say it, but you are a sloppy programmer Macron.”

“She speaks truth,” laughed Trevarus from nearby. “You should stick with your experiments, Sith. Let’s continue to the egress from these cyclophagean tunnels. They will fight... and we will wait. And strike when they think we will not come, in the place of our own choosing.” The Krath sorcerer gestured for the group to follow as he strode forth arrogantly.

Xanos said nothing at all. His dark eyes roved across the black stones, and none knew what passed through the Falleen’s mummified mind. Or what stirred his agonized soul, if he still had one left. One thing was certain. He was hungry, and above them were many living souls. Drinking of their essence would be both a delight, and mean falling further into damnation. The Dark Side was a harsh mistress indeed.

Anochiir

07-06-2012 21:58:14

Markosian City, Tarthos
Abandoned Home

Rising to her feet slowly, Setsuna listened to the sound of nothing. The fighting was still going on, but she heard nothing. She cast a quick, imperceptible glance at Roxas and smiled inwardly. She was curious as to why he ignored the summoning to Sepros, but that was for another time.

Touching the communicator at her throat, she spoke quickly. “This is Senior Commander Sakurazaki, requesting immediate assistance from all Security Forces in the area. Rendezvous at the spaceport in two hours. Do not be late or you will be dismissed. Permanently.”

She turned and looked at Roxas with utter sincerity. “Come. Since you’re here, I might as well put you to work.”

Roxas nodded his consent and followed behind the young Assassin quietly. She led him down dark alleys and through holes in the sides of buildings, avoiding detection from anything that might be looking for them. Holding up one hand, she called Roxas to a stop behind her. The soft footfalls of another Hssiss were clear to the girl as she gripped the hilt of her lightsaber. The head and front legs of the reptile appeared through an opening seconds before the azure blade snapped to life, severing a foreleg and the head from the beast. Setsuna nodded slightly and moved forward even as her saber extinguished.

As they neared the spaceport, Setsuna turned slowly and looked at the city behind them. She shook her head slightly and turned away from the smoking wreckage to continue her journey to the spaceport. Upon their arrival, Setsuna glanced around the spaceport to see her shuttle and her escort. Behind her the sounds of running feet entered the area. Spinning quickly, she ignited her saber until she recognized the uniforms.

“Gentlemen, thank you for your prompt cooperation. We have much to do and I think that we should get started don’t you?” She gestured to the higher ranking man. “What’s your name?”

The trooper stepped forward and saluted her. “First Lieutenant Smith, ma’am. We are here to assist you in whatever you need.”

Setsuna nodded to the trooper and walked over to Roxas. Augmenting herself with the Force again, the girl moved with inhuman speed, slapping the Templar in the face just as she channeled a burst of the Force to stun the man’s heart.

“By the order of Executive Director Phoenyx, this offal is to be detained and transport to the Sadow Palace on Sepros for interrogation. If you fail in this, I will personally kill all of you. He should remain unconscious for the entire trip, but take all necessary precautions.”

Lieutenant Smith nodded at the girl. “Yes ma’am.”

She stepped over to the graceless heap, knelt and took the lightsaber from his waist. She then pointed at a nearby loading cart. “Place him on that for transport. Too bad we don’t have a carbon freezing area.”

As the man was loaded onto the cart, Setsuna called on the Force once again and began to sweat. Once the Templar was in stasis, she turned and looked at the officer. “If he speaks, cut out his tongue. If he will not cooperate, cut out his eyes. If he moves, cut off his feet. Am I understood, Lieutenant?”

The trooper nodded as he swallowed hard. “Yes ma’am.”

Setsuna turned away from the man and looked at her escort. “You will take the prisoner to Sepros. You will be accompanied by the lieutenant and three more of his soldiers. That is all you will have room for in the shuttle. Now go.”

She turned away from the shuttle and looked at the remaining soldiers. Watching those left with her critically, she shook her head. “We need more troopers. We are in a state of crisis, gentlemen. This city must be protected at all costs.”

There was a general sound of assent from the troopers.

The girl continued to speak, turning to look at the burning city. “This spaceport is our primary base. If this falls, we are in serious trouble. We need to contact reinforcements from other places so we can run these creatures out of our city.”

One of the troopers looked at his comrades for a moment before looking at the girl. “Ma’am? What about Captain Mactavish? He’s got the soldiers and is coordinating the mission to retake the city.”

Setsuna nodded to the trooper. “Contact him over the secure channels and request his assistance here as soon as possible. You are requesting on behalf of Senior Commander Sakurazaki.”

The young assassin smiled to herself as the now immobilized Roxas was placed within the shuttle and disappeared into the sky above them. “One problem taken care of, I suppose. Hopefully, I won’t be seeing him again.”

Roxas

08-06-2012 01:58:05

En route to Sepros
The Mandalorian lay unconscious with cloth straps holding his feet and ankles. The ship shook as it left the atmosphere. The jarring didn’t wake the Templar, but the slight movement of his body did scare one of the troopers.
“Why are we transporting Colonel Buurenaar like this, Lieutenant?” One of the troopers inquired.
“Yeah, his skills could be put to good use there against the beasts.” Another quipped quickly.
The Lieutenant replied “I’m not sure why we have to do it, but we have to follow orders. Did you see how she handled him? It would have been worse for us.”
The group went silent for a few moments with thought. The silence was finally broken when one of the troopers spoke “Well I hope the Colonel doesn’t hold it against us, we are just following orders.”

A couple hours after take off
Flashbacks coursed through the Experiments head. Memories of his old Clan, training with both Kano and Fremoc, and the pain of the alchemy all streamed through his mind. The final thought was of his nemesis laughing, and that thought woke him in a rage.
His red eyes opened to see four troopers around him and that he was tied down. He quickly closed his eyes to listen to the currents of the Force and survey his surroundings. His mind searched the entire vessel to give him more of a clue of what was going on, all while he planned his escape. The Lieutenant bumped the Templar and Roxas tensed his muscles breaking the weak bonds and jumped over the man and spun him around to face the others. Roxas held a tight grip on the man’s throat and removed the slugthrower from the trooper’s holster to level it at the other three.
“Where is that ungrateful bitch?!” The Colonel roared his voice fiery and deep.
“Sir, please calm down. We were just following or orders that were to take you to Sepros.” A trooper said while trying to keep Roxas cool.
“Orders?” Roxas asked his voice still full of vim, but not really posing a question.
The men nodded altogether as another spoke “She threatened to…” A shot rang out in the small ship and a trooper’s headless body hit the floor.
“I’m sorry, did I break you concentration? Oh, you’re finished, then allow me to retort. I’m tired of being used by every Force wielding egomaniac that is gifted with a title and I’m ending it now.” Another shot and there was one less trooper.
“Sir please! We didn’t mean to anger…” A third shot and all that was left was the Lieutenant.
“Why did you kill them?” The Lieutenant asked hoping for an answer as to why he may also die.
“She would have done worse, I did them a favor by making it painless. There wasn’t anything I could have done about the fear though.”
“And me?” the man asked while trying to swallow what felt like a bubble in his throat.
A round tore through the Lieutenant’s head instead of a reply. The Alchemy Experiment released his grip and let the corpse fall to the floor.
“Not bad an Adjudicator...nice it’s got some basic customizations too.” The Mandalorian said admiring the pistol. Roxas walked into the cockpit and put the balster against the pilot’s head.
“You’ll follow your orders by taking me to Sepros and when we arrive you will notify me. Don’t signal for help or that we are on our way or I’ll blow your head off. Do you understand?”
The trooper nodded with fear.
It seems that helping the new summit isn’t in my best interests, maybe I should try working with the sons The Templar thought to himself, as he took a seat across from the pilot, so he could keep an eye on him.

Mirado

08-06-2012 04:36:28

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
Orian System

The Sadow palace was a riot of activity. Orders were barked out and followed with a mixture of ease and excitement, and really, what wasn’t there to be excited about? All around him, the chaos, panic, and disorder washed like a tidal wave, one in a torrent that threatened never to end. It was, in a word, tingly.

“You gonna help with these beasts?” Tiberius asked, the Sith rushing past so quickly it was as though he didn’t much care whether he got a response or not. Odds are good, he didn’t.

“I’ve got other business to attend.” Mirado said with a baritone grumble.

The Sith merely scowled, but pressed on. He too had business to attend, far more pressing in his own mind. Actually, that might be unfair, as this business pressed upon the lot of them.

Walking briskly, but still not running, he moved through the crowd in a patient, measured step, before bringing himself to a lift. Pressing the button (which took a moment or two of feeling around), he entered the car once it arrived, and took another moment to find the right button to take him to his destination.

Arriving with a dull pinging noise, the lift’s doors opened quietly to reveal the old Rancor pit that Ashia had built. Aside of a few personnel, it was silent, and empty. “Go on,” Mirado said to them. “The task at hand is outside.”

Not waiting to be told twice, the techs rushed to the lift. It didn’t matter that a creature hadn’t been kept here in some time, the place was still ominous. Perfect, really, for the assassin’s work. Striding to the center of the room, Mirado casually sat down, his legs crossed beneath him, and began to stretch out.

There was a certain bane and boon to the blindness of his species, mitigated by Force training. He saw shape, not detail. He saw movement, not performance. Color, aside of pure energy, was a passing idea, and the written language meant almost nothing. The trade off, however, came to rest in one’s ability to look beyond what was before them. Admittedly, Methyas was the L’eonheart to really talk to about it, his quiet serenity, once his Force Fountain had been quelled (thank you very much), lent itself well to the consciousness expansion of the exercise.

Mirado pushed out, not forcing the world around him to coalesce, but letting it happen. It was, to be fair, an exceptionally slow process, but eventually, he saw the fight outside. Shades of color comingled with monochrome, the Force users flaring up to wash away the mundane. Blaster bolts, their terrifying screech mercifully muted, flew wild as well, mixing with the vibrant lances of energy in the hands of those trained to use them.

Nearby, far closer than he would have preferred (as in, in the same system), the Sadows lurked, cloaked in webs of the Dark Side. It was, of course, inevitable. After all, they were the ones with a bone to pick. They weren’t his focus though. The Force would bring them where they were meant to be brought, when the time was right.

“You sure about this?” came a voice across his thoughts, the words nearly hanging before him in his vision.

“I’m certain. Everything’s ready?” Mirado replied to his brother Methyas, momentarily jealous that what was for the slightly older brother an afterthought, was a concerted effort of will for himself.

“Ready as it can be.” Methyas replied. Above, the Prelate was planning, organizing, and collecting himself. Unlike Mirado, who rode through the panic on a heavy earth moving machine, Methyas was a quiet beacon within it. “If I get killed…” Methyas added after a moment.

“Yep, I’ll probably die too.” Mirado retorted fatalistically. “Be careful, if they get on top of me, you’re gonna lose this quick.”

“I’ll have worse to worry about if that’s the case.” Methyas replied, and then took an action that he’d promised himself he’d never do. Instead of using the Force Chain between the two brothers as a conduit and guide, the Prelate took hold of it and yanked. The effect below, had anyone been there to witness it, was both violent, and profound.

Mirado, already on the floor, was cast to the ground all the same, his body sprawling out as though struck by a wrecking ball. After a moment, he bounced into the air a few times, slamming into the dirt floor of the empty rancor pit with dull thuds, before coming to a final rest several meters from where he began, face down and smeared in blood tinged mud.

Upstairs, the effect was far more subdued, but profound all the same. Muscles in his arms and legs twitched, rare and strange groups of them dulled from previously unnecessary use. Still, the reflexes sank in, and with them a wealth of known but intentionally unlearned technique. Methyas’ nerves lit up as well, threatening to react without his thinking, but most quiet of all, methods and techniques flooded his autonomous and conscious memory. Ways to strike an opponent fatally, the Zeltron Tango, the chemical composition for eight untraceable poisons, a botanical method of water purification, and sundry other things that the Paladin had no reason to know whatsoever were, for the time being, a welcome part of his skillset.

After a moment, it was done, and Methyas had subsumed his brother’s consciousness. Perhaps a minute later, he realized he’d be quite happy the moment Mirado’s thoughts and actions were safely and soundly back in his own damn body.

Finally reaching the front, Methyas held his hand near his belt, and through the Force beckoned Discord, his lightsaber, into his right hand. Secretly tucked against the Prelate’s left forearm in a spring sheath, rested Mirado’s lightsaber. A battlefield pickup, the violet bladed engine of destruction was warm against his skin, its presence reassuring to a left hand that had, up until now, been of less use to him.

Atra

08-06-2012 09:52:52

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
Orian System

Battle is seldom pretty, and even more rarely does it match the glory spoken of in cantina tales. No, those are words attributed by those who were not there. It is not the words used by those who survived. It is Hell. Carnage incarnate. It is about being scared from start to finish yet still doing what needs to be done. As Atra looked at the small band of soldiers that remained at his side he could feel that fear emanating from them. He felt the weight of his saber in his hand, glancing down at the silent blade that had yet to spring to life. There was reassurance to be found in the certainty of such a weapon, and in the enhanced skills he possessed. His men did not have the same certainty.

Glancing back towards the temple the Dakhani Quaestor's thoughts drifted to his former master. Methyas would trust in the Force, using it to sooth and bolster the strength of those around him. Atra lacked such skills. Still, there were other ways to inspire. Another volley of shots caused the man's attention to snap back to the front, a concussion of air and sound greeting him as the Fist of the Brotherhood seemed to appear out of nowhere. The Quaestor knew very little of Fremoc, that was certain, but even he could read the anger and frustration writ upon the Fist's face as he crushed the comlink in his hand.

The DSOG troops that had formed Atra's vanguard didn't care to read into Fremoc the same way as their commander. He could feel the sudden surge in moral, the palpable feeling of confidence. A slight grin passed over his features as he thought of an age old proverb: ask and ye shall receive. He most certainly had needed inspiration for the men and here it was. The Fist's hands thrust forward, another concussion of power slamming into the beasts before him. Blood and bone burst into the air as the Nexu fell in a crumpled heap.

Fremoc glanced down at the crushed comlink, thinking back to the conversation he had just held with Teu, if you could call it that. She had spent most of it yelling and he had listened with quiet fury. How dare he take Thonas away, leaving Darra in the open? How dare he hide the location of their son from her? His teeth ground together in frustration. Did she not understand? How could it not be so obvious why he had been away for over a year. The memory of Thomas burned in his mind as fresh as the day it ripped at his heart. Trust was something that was shaky at best, and when it came to his remaining son it was something he could not afford. Instead, he turned those frustrations and anger towards the mindless beasts before him, slaughtering them with reckless abandon.

A combination of growls pulled Atra's attention away from the Fist's demonstration of power. His grey eyes focused on a group of three Nexu charging straight in his direction. With a deep sigh Atra closed his eyes, focusing himself as he allowed the pool of power at his core to overflow, filling his body with its fiery touch. His eyes opened in time to greet fangs inches from his face. The world slowed for the Quaestor, his perception of time the only thing changing as inhuman speed took over. His body moved as if on strings, shifting to the left and rotating as his palms touched the fur-covered hide of the first beast. A quick concussion sent the beast spiralling away, crashing into the wall with a sickening thud. His body carried the momentum forward, meeting the second Nexu head on as he put his palms out once more, catching the beast for a moment as its momentum cancelled out against the strength of the push he launched forward. With a final step Atra fell to the ground, allowing his momentum to carry him into a slide under the final Nexu as his cyan blade hissed to life, arcing over his head to meet the beast. Burnt flesh and hair filled his nostrils as the severed beast gave out a dying roar.

His eyes flashed dangerously, Atra's quick mind analyzing what he had not expected to see. Turning quickly he opened a comm channel to the remaining DSOG personnel.

"Cease fire, I repeat, cease fire."

Atra's vanguard turned in unison, confusion spread across their face as even the Fist cast him a curious glance. He let out a long sigh as he made a quick check for threats before continuing.

"Think hard. Which of the Nexu has attacked without being first provoked?" He gestured towards the corpses as he continued. "They are trying to get past, they are running from something. These beasts are scared and reacting to something beyond their understanding, some searching for the source of their discomfort and others merely fleeing."

Atra almost pitied them, having felt much the same as he now knew the beasts did during his imprisonment.

"This is a 'happy' accident. Something the true threat did not intend for. We are being distracted and we're letting it happen."

Fremoc and Atra stared at each other for a long moment, judging the weight of his words and the potential for something far worse.

Teu

08-06-2012 10:32:28

Sadow Palace
Sepros

Teu growled slightly as she stood in the Palaces courtyard, she was furious the cause was not to be known but she however had received one commlink call that surprised her. A shuttle coming from Tarthos was bringing a very unhappy Dark Jedi to her. Apparently he doesn’t understand where orders come from around here.

The Proconsul stood with a dozen troopers waiting as the shuttle came into site, she watched as it came to the ground and remained still for several minutes. She pulled her lightsaber off of her belt and came to stand at the end of the ramp. Her eyes blazing with fury as the ramp lowered.

At the top of the ramp stood a Templar, who held a small pistol, his eyes found the Exarch and he began to shoot repeatedly at her. However the shear speed she showed there was no gap for a blaster shot to get through. She quickly sent a wave of energy at the knight, he was thrown back into the shuttle hard. His head hitting against the metal wall with such Force that there was a small dent, the last thing the Templar saw was the Exarch holding the blade above him to strike the kill.

“You ignored a command and killed men who are working on my command. You are going before the summit.” Teu turned off the blade and struck the hilt into the side of his face. She then stood and picked up the man. She wasn’t going to let him out of her site.

Around her the dozen of troopers, watched as she strode across the temple grounds. Towards the interior of the temple, as she walked she clicked her teeth the military style communicator was in her ear. “Locke, it seems we have rouge Jedi in our grasp.”

“Who and what did you do?” the Consuls voice rang into her head.

“Roxas. Apparently from my understanding he found the person that was sent to the yellow district…she didn’t like it so sent him to us. Then on the ship he apparently attacked his captors. So…I went and met him.” Teu frowned slightly. “He’s a traitor to his clan.”

“What are you going to do?”

“First im going to strip every piece of goddamn gear off of his ass then lock him in the rancor pit.” Teu growled.

“No toss him in a cell. We will deal with him later.” Locke closed the communication line.

Teu looked down at the man and smirked. “Come on sleeping beauty.”

The proconsul quickly moved through the halls towards the cells, she stopped outside one of them and quickly began to remove the Templars equipment until he was down in his under clothes. She then tied his hands behind him and tossed him into the empty concrete box and locked the door. He was now unarmed and in a very empty cell.

“Troopers you are to not take any command from him. If you do I will kill you. That goes for all of you. Understood?”

Tron

08-06-2012 17:44:17

Hidden location, Sepros

He stared out the window and had a spectacular view of the forest canopy. Sepros was a beautiful world with so much life, it was little wonder that Urias Orian had chosen it. But even now he could sense the events taking place that had been made real to him in visions the past several nights as he slept. Action would be required by him, but not yet, the Children would first have to make their move, necessitating his involvement.

It had been too long since he had walked amongst them, but of course his time and attention were needed here for the things to come. Eventually he would return and train his Son in the ways of the Force, preparing him for the role in which he was destined to fill. That was a time distant in the future, but one whose gap continued to grow smaller.

Right now he could sense the fear be exuded on the planet. Animals, Humans, Ekind, and even members of the Clan were all pulsing with fear. They were not all fearing the same thing, but it was fuel none the less. Fear leads to anger. Their anger would be a driving force, but that alone would not be enough. Anger leads to hate.

Using their hate one could move them to do what would be necessary and prudent at the same time, but there are always drawbacks when you go that far. Hate leads to suffering. Though a powerful show of force and mastery, the suffering eventually leads to rebellion, something Dark Lords of the past had never understood. Still, using that formula a powerful Dark Jedi could become nearly unstoppable. It would be ludicrous to believe oneself invincible to any and all, history had proven that theory false.

Soon. The time was coming soon and then he would be able to unveil everything that had been envisioned.

Macron Sadow

09-06-2012 10:13:31

Hidden Location, Deep Underground
Long Towers Area
Red Sector
Markosian City
Tarthos

Somewhere deep in the bowels of the city a lone man worked. His dark fingers moved quickly over a holopad like spiders. Wraparound glasses with the flickering images of data streams and geometric figures painted in azure covered his strange tripartite eyes. Pinpoints of light shone where each of the major battles were elsewhere in the city. His digits danced in front of him, pinpointing an area or moving points of light to new destinations. The abominations moved in concert to his macabre tune, and not at random. He was their puppeteer, so to speak.

“Time for the confusion,” smiled Tsainetomo. Another point of light was directed to an area near the edge of the fighting. At the same time his other hand touched a green skull image twice, activating it. As the crippling virus aimed at the power grid of Markosian began to propagate across the holonet and burrow into the targets, he smiled. The web was set. He only had to await his prey. Undoubtedly this would garner some attention by those in power on Sepros.

Combat Zone, Transport Hangar
Yellow Sector
Markosian City
Tarthos

As the battle raged, dried slime from the Taozin-Silooth hybrid coalesced into opalescent tracks on the ground. Ahead were the sounds of Ewok screams and blaster shots. The fog of war and duracrete dust obscured the view. The smell of blood gave a salty metallic tang to the fouled air. Around a hundred meters away the blaster fire intensified around the dumptruck-sized abomination that continued to consume as many citizens as it could.

A lone modern Dark Eye droid glided noiselessly from a hidden nook in the alley near the transport that had held the monstrosities. The droid stopped, hovering behind a corner. It projected a life-like hologram. The form was that of a clown-like human in red armor with facial tattoos and an insane laugh. The figure stepped from behind a wall and brandished an orange light saber with a howl before turning back into the building. The Dark Eye retreated in hidden silence back into the warehouse to hide and record the action as nearby troopers with field glasses shouted to their superiors.

Within awaited seven modern Colicoid series combat/assassin droids, heavily armed and already deployed for maximum effect within the transport and building. The bug-like offspring of the Droideka waited silently within the building with their E-web blasters and Nightstinger attachments. They had already deployed antipersonnel mines and triggered smoke canisters. The debris within had been carefully arranged according to their Master’s commands. A minor “leak” from the ship’s reactor made comlink operation and sensor scanning difficult. Inside the ship awaited a half-kilo of enriched baradium from the Last Breath Mine with multiple sensors and a remote detonator for backup. In short, it was an insidiously evil trap.

Shirai

09-06-2012 11:11:11

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros

Madness. That's the only word he could think of as he rushed into the battlefield after the Proconsul received a distressing call informing her of the situation at hand. The Temple of Sorrow was under attack, by some of the most vicious disgusting looking creatures Shirai had ever seen. There were troops around him, DSOG designated troops he believed assigned to the Palace. But none of them formed around him to form a type of shooting defense guard, they simply took cover like how any trooper would do. They do not know me. And would rather not risk their life for a stranger. That made sense. His blade cackled to life as two Nexu crawled their way towards him standing in front of the palace.

He hated fighting Nexu, they were particularly unrelenting after they drew blood. But there had to be a bigger situation at hand. He did not know but he would soon find out, for now there were more pressing matters at hand. Namely, staying alive. Shirai dove to the side as one of the Nexu dove at him. The other one was quickly upon him, slashing dangerously at his head, trying to either maul it or knock it clean off. However the creatures hand met the red blade of the Dupar's lightsaber. It fell to the ground with a loud thud. Shirai half expected the other Nexu to converge on the one that just got injured.

It did no such thing and continued its assault on him. It swung this way, it swung that way. Using the Force to augment his steps to get out of the range of the Nexu's claws, finally the other Nexu was back in the action. Using its pain as an incentive to eat Shirai alive. The new clansmen scowled. He would have to deal with the creatures without expending to much of his energy. Energy he would have to use battle the greater force they were obviously being distracted by. Now noticing what was going on, he had been in enough wars to understand what was at hand.

Then he saw it, an opening in both of the Nexu's defenses. He held out his left towards the injured one who was darting back and forth taunting Shirai to attack him. Which he did. The Nexu's neck crumpled as Shirai used the Force to severely crush its neck and head. The partnering Nexu however did not stick around to see what happen, to its partner, but resumed the attack because it's prey was no more then a few feet away. In the time it took for the Nexu to lung forward and take a sever bite out of Shirai, the Dark Jedi was already leaping 10 feet in the air. He landed on top of the Nexu's head and immediately plunged his blade into the center of its head. It came out the other end, clearly piercing the end of its jaw. He leaped back off as the Nexu fell to the ground dead.

Now, where were the other Jedi as Shirai surveyed the battlefield.

Anochiir

09-06-2012 21:07:20

Markosian City, Tarthos
Markosian Spaceport

The young girl looked up as Captain Mactavish stepped into the area. He approached her and delivered a crisp salute before speaking. “Ma’am, I have three detachments of soldiers with me currently and six more are being called up to arrive within the next day or so.”

Setsuna nodded at the man, her face twisting with consternation. “Another day. We do not have time to wait. Captain, we need to isolate Markosian. The situation merits such that any survivors are unlikely. You are to blow the power centers and cut Markosian off completely.”

The Captain seemed taken aback by this order, his face taking a darker tone. “Are you sure, ma’am? Is the situation so desperate?”

The girl set her gaze on the Captain for a long moment. “Captain, we have crazed ewoks, lizards with the ability to be unseen and a giant slug that I can’t seem to find. I think this situation calls for something a little more drastic than what I’ve ordered, but I will not give up hope that we can still salvage this city. So your choice, Captain. Destroy the power plants or raze the city. Quickly, Captain. We have no more time to decide.”

Mactavish nodded once to the girl before turning around to look at his men. “Vector, Spectre and Hivers. Front and center.”

Three troopers in full armor stepped forward and adjusted their grips on the heavy weapons they carried. “Yes, sir?”

The scarred Captain glanced over his shoulder at the Assassin and nodded once again. “You are going to destroy the power plants within Markosian. This must be done swiftly and with little notice. You can each take three men to assist you. I want to know immediately when each of the three power plants are destroyed.”

The three troopers saluted Mactavish before turning around to select their squadmates for the mission. Once the groups were finalized, Setsuna approached the men. She cleared her throat and nodded at each group. “You are all fine examples, gentlemen. Some of you will be killed, maybe all of you. However, your mission is imperative and must be accomplished. Failure is simply not an option at this juncture.”

The men exchanged a glance with each other as the girl continued. “You are our final hope, gentlemen. This disaster must be contained and the loss of power may just confuse our enemies.”

The men nodded their assent to the Assassin before she spoke again. “You have your orders, gentlemen. You have ordinance for the task and failing that, you can destroy the consoles and send the plants into overload. Kill as many of those bastards as you can on the way and then sever Markosian from the rest of the Orian System. Seal this city immediately.”

Setsuna turned and looked at Mactavish, her voice low and fierce. “If you have any messages to get to someone, I would suggest you do so now. In a few hours, we will be alone out here.”

Mactavish nodded and saluted the Prelate. “Ma’am. I will send a message to hurry those soldiers along. I will also request aid from the outer bases.”

Setsuna smiled softly at the Captain. “Do so, Mactavish. Also, place a sizable military presence on the Southern plans in the event this gets away from us. Seal off the Kar Alabrek as well as ensuring that the power grids are shut down for the time being. This whole planet will go dark until the situation is taken care of, am I understood?”

The Captain nodded before walking off a ways to deliver the orders handed down to him. Setsuna touched the comlink at her throat, activating the single-use emergency channel. “Cherry Blossom to Red Rose. Tarthos is being sealed on my order. Power is being cut and we will be offline. Send assistance when possible.”

Markosian City, Tarthos
Power Station Alpha

Spectre’s team approached the power station with extreme levels of stealth. Each having been trained in stealth reconnaissance and combat tactics, they moved as a single man toward their objective. As the plant loomed before them, the soldier called his team to a halt and pointed toward the building where a large band of ewoks had gathered.

Each man nodded in confirmation, holding up signals for each section. Almost as one, the four men threw their thermal detonators into the group. The ewoks looked at the objects falling into their midst for a moment before they turned to run.

Explosions ripped through the creatures, sending shards of bone and puddles of entrails everywhere. Spectre nodded to his men and motioned them forward once more. The team reached the entrance to the power plant and stood two to a side of the door.

Spectre motioned to one of his squadmates carrying a large pack and continued maintaining complete silence between them. Gesturing to the door, the back-packed soldier nodded and pulled a breaching grenade from his pack.

Placing the charge on the door, the team backed away quickly seconds before the charge exploded the door into the main room. Entering the power station in silence, he motioned two of his men to the left while he and the back-packed trooper went right.

Markosian City, Tarthos
Power Station Bravo

Hivers looked down the road to the power station with a grin behind his helmet. Looking over his shoulder, he nodded at the destruction his team had wrought on the way here. Lizards and ewoks lay in pieces nearly the entire way back to the spaceport. “Not bad for a days work, gentlemen.”

He turned back to the power station as the men chuckled behind him. The madman leading them was an expert on demolitions and served as one of the Army’s engineers. Demolitions was something Hivers lived for and it always made him smile to blow things up. He glanced around at the men surrounding him. He nodded and laughed, a cold barking sound. “Let’s go take care of this piece of fun and then go have a beer, yeah?”

The men all nodded, grinning behind their helmets. They advanced on the power station in a loose formation since Hivers wasn’t much of a leader to the first place. Hivers reached the door first and pulled a couple lengths of tape from his belt pouches.

The man applied the detonator tape to the door in the shape of an X and moved back a few steps with his team close behind. Hivers leaned against the wall and whistled a merry tune softly for a few moments before the tape ignited and blew the door to pieces. A low, dark chuckle escaped his lips and looked at his men. “I bet we won’t have to tell Dial we blew this one up. He’ll feel it all the way there.”

The men laughed and nodded at Hivers who led them into the building.

Markosian City, Tarthos
Power Station Charlie

Vector moved with his team down the street. Two of them had already fallen victim to the lizards, but Vector didn’t really care too much about them. He was Death incarnate, it wasn’t his fault they were weak and got themselves killed. He didn’t even get the chance to help them die and this always made him a little surly.

The final remaining man of his team looked around nervously, scanning the area constantly for the approach of anything hostile. Vector shook his head at the soldier and continued moving towards the power station. He had a mission and he was going to complete it. If this last squad member was lucky, he might just get to live to see the awards for his service.

The two men stepped up to the door and Vector shrugged as he tested the door panel. As the door slid open quietly, Vector and his final team mate stepped into the power station. The entire place looked completely abandoned. No blood stains, no gibbets of forgotten flesh, nothing. Even the air reeked of the crisp antiseptics used to keep the building clean.

He looked around and tilted his head to the side. “Empty? This might be a little too easy. You search for survivors, I will head to the control room and schedule and overload.”

The soldier nodded and exited the room through the eastern door. Vector watched the man leave and stepped into the main office ahead of him. It was too easy to maintain his reputation some days. Collateral damage simply happened around Vector and he didn’t worry too much about the numbers. Results were what concerned him.

Vector got into the main server with little trouble and located the controls for the supply stations. Something caught his attention as he continued to increase the levels in the station to the obscene. The system began to spike with the final stages of lethal overload as Vector calmly walked out of the office and exited the building before disappearing down the street to return to the spaceport.

Markosian City, Tarthos
Markosian Spaceport

Setsuna looked at one of the terminals in the spaceport. Nearly completely inoperable, she swore and punched the screen. “Mactavish!”

The Captain ran up to her side with a look of puzzled amusement. “Yes, ma’am?”

The young Assassin pointed at the screen. “That’s a problem. Someone is here tampering with these things. Something is causing the interference and I don’t like this.”

The first power station exploded with enough force that Setsuna would have fallen if the Captain hadn’t reached out and taken ahold of her arm quickly. A mumbled thanks came from the girl as she pulled her arm away from the man’s grasp.

“There’s one down. Let’s hope the other two made it through.”

The second and third explosions almost rang out in tandem as the planetary shield surrounding Markosian flickered and vanished as the generators lost all power. The cold temperatures rushed in at the same time as the three teams returned to the spaceport. “Kark, it’s cold. Captain. Markosian is lost. I will notify the Directors. Your only mission in life now is to protection of Kar Alabrek.”

Mactavish nodded somberly and looked at his men. “Gentlemen, we’re moving out again.” He turned back to the girl. “Ma’am, will you be joining us?”

Setsuna shook her head. “No, Captain. I will not be joining you. Recall all troops to Kar Alabrek and seal the city. No one is allowed to enter or exit the city without the express permission from myself or the Directors. Am I understood?”

Mactavish saluted the girl once again. “Perfectly, ma’am. We will hold the city if it costs our lives.”

Setsuna nodded and looked around. “Excellent, Captain. You are dismissed to carry out your orders.”

As the Captain and his men departed for their shuttles, the girl touched the communicator to her throat. “Cherry Blossom to the Directors. This is an urgent message. Markosian City has been lost. Forces are withdrawing to focus on the protection of Kar Alabrek.”

She waited for a short while to receive her orders. Having heard nothing, she keyed the comlink once more. “I will join the forces at Kar Alabrek to offer my assistance there. Cherry Blossom out.”

Dropping her hand from the communicator, she turned toward the shuttles that were beginning to take off. Mac Tavish stood next to one with his arms folded across his chest. He called over to her with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Coming, ma’am?”

Setsuna shook her head and muttered darkly to no one in particular. “This man is going to drive me up the wall.”

The shuttles lifted away from the city lines of walkers, tanks and personnel carriers could be seen leaving the area. Setsuna turned and looked at Mactavish who shrugged. “We may need it later. No point in having it if we can’t use it, ma’am.”

The Assassin nodded and turned back to watch the lines of equipment exiting the city. “We head to Kar Alabrek, Captain. That is where we stand firm against this threat. Nothing will take the capitol.”

Mactavish nodded and leaned back in his seat, settling in for the long ride.

Military Staging, Southern Plains
Kar Alabrek, Tarthos

Setsuna stood beside Mactavish looking out over the plains. She hated having to withdraw, but the city was lost before she ever arrived. She shook her head to banish the doubt and the defeat suffered at the hands of an unknown enemy.

She looked up at the towering Captain. “Captain, prepare the men for war. If we want to keep this planet, we’re going to have to fight for it.”

Mactavish saluted the girl and nodded at her. “You are completely right, ma’am.”

Macron Sadow

09-06-2012 22:06:37

Combat Zone, Transport Hangar Area
Yellow Sector
Markosian City
Tarthos

“This is Epsilon 43, Commander Setsuna. We have confirmed sighting of hostile target Beta-2 in our contact zone,” shouted the clone trooper into the comlink. “I repeat, Codename Alchemist has been spotted in the Yellow Sector.” The highly encrypted signal bounced off a Verpine enhanced military grade satellite. No one on the ground received said signal. Rather, it was routed directly to the secret Dlarit Top-level channels; i.e. Sepros High Command. Very shortly it would propagate across the network of the Directors.

A group of assault troopers, clone and Dlarit Guard alike moved towards the ruined hangar/warehouse. The Taozin hybrid had left this area more than twenty minutes ago, and they had come to secure the breach after the Ewoks and abominations moved onward to juicier pastures. Fourteen Dlarit Marines and a single Clone Trooper moved towards the reputed lair. Around them the supine victims of the earlier carnage either groaned in agony or said nothing at all. The team stopped short of the smoking building. Their scanners gave vaguely confusing readings. Epsilon 43 checked his own sensors. Although the rad levels were very low, it was probable the ancient freighter had a hairline core breach in its reactor. This situation needed to be addressed and contained quickly.

“Contact the Hazardous Situations team. We will surround, isolate, and contain this situation. Evacuate everyone within ten blocks,” commanded the clone trooper. “Commander Setsuna, we await your directive.” The Marines and Trooper took covered positions and began to watch the hangar intently. In the distance, screams were still heard as the Hybrid ate more. It was beginning to appear like it’s progenitor it was largely immune to energy weapons. Even so, the clock was running out on the unstable mass of rugose flesh.

Xanos

10-06-2012 09:04:49

Unknown location
Deep beneath the Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

“sleep no more...betrayal... revenge...”

The troops following behind moaned, echoing the cries back in the cave far below as the deposed consul and apostates made their way back up through the dark tunnels beneath the planet surface.

At the noise, the alchemist clenched his armoured fist and a piece of rock shattered on the nearby tunnel wall.

“They should all revere me,” Macron growled, shrugging aside Trevarus’s earlier comments that the alchemist would be better off just sticking to his research into the mortal anima. “It was me and Sai who rebuilt Naga Sadow from the ashes left behind from the war—” He unclasped his hand and more pebbles rolled down the moss-strewn walls. “—and this is the reward we receive!”

In front, his old Sith Master stumbled a little and lifted a hand to steady himself on the broken wall.

“My Master speaks the truth,” the Falleen whispered, his voice gravelly as he slowed his breathing to calm his body's latest convulsion, “why do you rebuild, knowing all will be destroyed?”

Sildrin’s nodded in agreement and her red hair fell across her atrophied eyes. “Everything is but a never-ending cycle of torment and pain,” the blind woman said, but did not elaborate any further.

Macron shook his head. “You were the one who once taught me power was its own purpose.” The alchemist clenched his fist again. “Are you saying now that that was a lie?” A new fracture split down the rock the Falleen was now leaning against. “I will show them the weakness of their convictions.”

The alchemist giggled again as his eyes stared off into the distance, lost in thought.

Xanos slowly stepped back from the wall. “You yearn... to impose your will on life.” The Elder stuttered as the muscles in his throat spasmed. “But all in this life is destined for death. Your triumph will be ephemeral.”

“Are you any different?” Macron retorted. “If death is what you long for, why did you return?”

The Falleen made no sign of being moved by his old apprentice’s accusation. “All this, all you see before you,” Xanos spread his arms and gestured down the hallway in front of them, “all are nothing but whispers from the Force." The Elder paused. "Life, my apprentice, is but an illusion, a dream.”

Macron sneered. “If life is a dream, then it will be a dream of my making!” The madman snickered with laughter. “I will be the dreamer, and those in the dream will follow my bidding, not theirs.”

“Then you understand why the Force must end.” The Falleen’s eyes twitched and his face became slightly less ashen in colour. “For as long as its will steers the river of time, all are slave to its path.”

“With no one else dreaming, one will become master of his own fate,” Sildrin added, although it was unclear if she agreed or was merely qualifying what the Dark Prophet had said. “The Final Way.”

“Until then,” Xanos said, “we are all but tools of someone else.”

At the front of the group, Trevarus slowed as the dusty walls started to become more distinct. The troopers following behind them moaned out in another ghostly concerto.

“We near the subsystems,” the Oracle called back to the others. Indeed, they arrived at a hallway quite unlike those they had followed on their way here from the Cave of Echoes. The stone no longer felt damp, and at the end of the corridor, an artificial glow could just be made out.

Macron relaxed his hand and giggled. “I will contact Ssrash and tell him it’s time to put Sai’s worm to the test.” The alchemist turned his head to look at the nearby wall as he presumably silently keyed open the comlink implants underneath his skin. For the next few moments, no one spoke, until the deposed consul nodded and turned his head back toward the others. “The virus is uploaded. We have control.”

Although the Falleen standing next to Macron did not say anything, up front Trevarus’s white teeth gleamed back at the alchemical madman in a wide smirk, before the sorcerer turned to the woman next to him. The Oracle reached out with his right hand, the silver metal of his amulet swimming across his fingers. “Come, then, Lady Seneschal, this next task calls for your skills.”

Sildrin

10-06-2012 19:09:32

Unknown location
Deep beneath the Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System
Trevarus’s silver covered fingers glided over the moldy, dusty surface - searching for the sigil within the solid stone wall. The silvery Amulet of Orian that covered Trev’s right hand gave a short glow as he found the right spot. He wiped away the dust, revealing a circular relief. Macron frowned: “What is this?”.
“A place where sorcery and technology are interwoven and reality begins where illusions emerge.”, Trevarus said, pressing the silver encrusted hand onto the relief. The intertwined rings began to rotate and words written in an unknown language started to glow in a deep purple.
Sildrin Sadow focused her force senses, fascinated by the mechanism of this lock. But after a few seconds she started to feel sick and she turned her head away. At the same moment also Macron gasped, stumbling backwards. “What foul sorcery is this...?”, Sildrin whispered, “This can’t be from our world, Trevarus.”
“Ancient knowledge, Lady Dragon. And not even I know from what realm this is. You may be even right with your suspicion.”
The rings’s speed increased and finally stopped. A thin line appeared on the stone wall - from the bottom up to the ceiling. With no effort nor any sound two huge doors swung inside. “A masterpiece whoever created this mechanism.”, Macron said with obvious admiration in his voice.

They entered a hall. No words existed to describe the sheer size of it. Numerous corridors splitted from it. Trevarus entered the hall, raising his hand to emphasize his warning: “Do not stray from this hall or you may get lost. I am not going to search for you if you do.”
In the middle of the hall the ground was showing the surface of the planet - into the smallest of details of it. Small rain clouds moved, sunbeams shone through them - a perfect mimic of the real planet. Macron leaned closer and for a short moment he wondered whether it was a hologram or for real. His eyes widened as he felt an air breeze tousle his hair and wetness covered his cheek. Rain? He wondered; his upper body slowly moved forward and he felt as if he was falling - then Xanos pulled him backwards. Nervously Macron giggled.
Trevarus led them to the right side - to a panel surrounded by glowing crystals. Cogs and wheels of a gigantic machine moved through the hall that rose up further than their sight would allow. Macron whispered: “What... is this place?”
Sildrin shook her head: “It has been always here, but you seem to have forgotten, Macron.”
Trevarus turned to her: “Lady Dragon? Your part.”
The former Seneschal sighed softly: “You demand a lot of me. My power is not endless, Trevarus.”
“No - it is not, Lady Dragon.”, the former Oracle said teasingly, his lips curling into an arrogant smile.
With a scowl she stepped to the panel, laying a hand on it. She murmered: “Input.”. Her body went still, not moving a single inch while her eyes stared at a point beyond the panel. The glowing crystals started to vibrate; their light pulsating.

Simus Institute - Training Academy
Inside the Sadow Palace
Sepros
Jardu could hear the nexu somewhere nearby as he stalked his prey, but the feline predator was somehow remaining one step ahead of him. A whining alarm was heard through the palace, ringing in his ears. He decided to try the doors to the Simus Institute, to see if the beast had snuck in to harm the younglings - but the novice found the door sealed shut from inside. That shouldn't be, he thought. He turned around to go back the way he had come, right as a hatch appeared in the ceiling. His hand automatically fell to his new weapon as a large blaster turret descended, its barrels aimed at him, but nothing happened. Jardu murmered: “I guess this palace is full with defence systems. Good thing they were activated now with these beasts around.”
He heard an snarling sound behind him that made him freeze. Another nexu. Jardu slowly turned around, facing the beast. Footsteps approached him from behind the beast. A man with a unique armor appeared. He must be high ranked if he has his own custom armor, Jardu though.
Malik held out his saber: “Don’t worry. This beast will be soon dead. Your name?”
Jardu replied: “Novice Jardu.”
The nexu started to snarl, pondering which of his prey would be the easiest. It decided for Malik. Malik prepared for a leap, but a moment before the beast reached him, an shimmering energy shield stopped it. The creature howled as the energy burned its skin. It raged, tossing itself against the shield, but finally stopped. A smell of burned skin and hair filled the corridor. The nexu turned around, facing Jardu. Malik screamed out: “What the...? Who activated the defence system?! Locke!” Malik used a blast of raw force energy to burn himself through the shield, but frustrated he realised that the defence system was built to resist such attacks.
Sweat beads appeared on Jardu’s forehead. He was in a long corridor - alone - with a nexu. He gripped his saber rightly. Right then the turret at the ceiling spinned round to shoot at the nexu between him and the energy shield with Malik behind it. The beast cried out, twitched and dropped dead to the ground. Jardu sighed from relief: “The Consul was smart to activate the defence system.”
Malik scowled, moving his saber across the energy shield, sending sparks of energy around. The shield withstood him. “Yes. Kinda. I assume Consul Locke is in the Grand Hall. Maybe Macron and his friends are attacking and he activ...”, Malik heard a beeping sound as his communicator activated. Malik looked at the transmission. “Hah! I just got a transmission from the Defence System. We are supposed to gather at the Grand Hall.”
Jardu nodded: “I guess it is better if we all gather in the Hall to fight the enemy - united.”
Malik replied: “Follow the corridor! It leads to the Grand Hall. I will go back and go the route past the training rooms to get to the Grand Hall”

Grand Hall
Inside the Sadow Palace
Sepros
Jardu was panting from the long run. Several dark Jedi had arrived at the Grand Hall. All having received the transmission. A young apprentive whispered: “I heard the Consul will hold a speech.” Jardu was about to reply as he saw Malik approaching. “You made it, Novice.”, Malik grinned, patting him on his shoulders. “Good job.” Jardu couldn’t hold back a smile, nodding to Malik: “Now let’s hear what the Consul has to tell us.”

Xanos

11-06-2012 15:33:30

Unknown location
Deep beneath the Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

Trevarus stood watching the otherworldly image of the world above while the former seneschal interfaced with the ancient control matrix on the wall beside him. Minute photo-realistic figures scuttled back and forth inside the scale image of the palace up above.

“Your Verpine compatriots have been a great boon, Alchemist,” Trevarus said, keeping his eyes on the tiny shapes as blast doors suddenly closed and shield walls unexpectedly came online.

Macron, careful not to step into the image again, studied the tiny faces, his expression dancing between smirks of recognition and a cold, vengeful sneer each time his lips curled. “I see Malik has returned,” said the deposed consul, his face grinning again a little as he watched the Neti he had once called a friend, until the living tree had departed to join the Jedi of Odan-Urr. The alchemist snorted an amused laugh. “We all always did say he’d be back.”

Trevarus watched as a security shield flashed into life, blocking the Neti’s path. “I think she’s enjoying this too much,” the Oracle said, smirking for a moment.

Apparently spotting something of interest, Macron ventured a step closer to the image of the palace as he tried to make out a figure somewhere in the detention block. “I think...” Another giggle rose from the alchemist. “Hehehe... yes, it is, it is! My experiment is locked in the cells. He must have upset someone.” The alchemist glanced around at Sildrin. “Do you think you can...?”

Beside them, Xanos staggered a little, momentarily losing his footing, but quickly enough righted his balance again. “Enough games... my Master,” the Falleen said, sounding slightly strained. “Enough of the Clan have assembled in the audience chamber—,” the Dark Prophet waved one of is clawed hands at the seats of dark robed figures assembled in the palace’s Grand Hall, “—the stragglers pose no danger.”

In the grounds outside, a few flashes continued where some still battled the remaining animals that had fled from the large disturbance deeper in the jungle; a few of the creatures had sneaked inside the palace, with the last still being hunted down, but most of the fighting seemed to be coming under control...

Trevarus nodded and then looked up from the display at his oldest apprentice. “Then it is time we brought this charade to its conclusion,” the Oracle said, his eyes briefly glancing at the movement in the forests rapidly nearing the palace. The sorcerer turned round to Sildrin. “It is time we reminded them how Naga Sadow was built on the legacy of a great sorcerer, not some regular dirt general.”

The Dark Jedi Master turned back to the display filling the floor again.

“Initiate the palace lockdown.”

Inside the Great Hall
Sadow Palace, Sepros

The audience chamber was alive with unfamiliar voices as clansmen lined the seats, waiting for the Consul’s speech to begin. Not all of the Summit were present yet, but those who were had taken position around the top table at the head of the hall, where anyone familiar would normally have expected the Sons of Sadow to have been seated. Today, however, none were present, of course.

Malik stood to one side near the entrance doors, inspecting the statues of the Clan’s founders that lined the walls under the bright ceiling-height tapestries; Naga Sadow, Ludo Kressh, Marka Ragnos; a newer statue of Shar Dakhan had been added to the others since the former Son was last here.

“Hello again, old friends,” the Neti said.

Beyond the ancient leaders of the Sith Empire, the faces of Sadow’s mortal prodigy kept guard on the Clan’s hallowed halls. The Overlord’s father, Anubis, and of course Astronicus himself; all ringed by those whom the Overlord had baptised as his Sons of Sadow.

Two plinths stood empty, their faces long since removed. Malik’s wooden lips curled in wry amusement. “I turned my back on your vision, too, Astronicus.” Surprisingly, though, the Neti found his face still there on its plinth; a strange reminder, perhaps, that not all Sons stood together?

Malik’s shoulders creaked when he shrugged.

Without warning, the towering doorway next to the Neti slammed shut.

All of a sudden, the room fell silent, all eyes turning toward the main podium. But no one stood at the lectern. The Neti frowned. If the doors had shut, surely that meant Locke was about to begin?

Malik moved to the back row to speak with one of the few faces he recognised. “What’s going on?” the Neti whispered to Karimicus, who was sitting behind a group of Journeymen Malik didn’t know.

The fellow Sith looked back up over his shoulder at Malik. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

There was a knock on the door behind and the Neti heard someone call to open up. Karimicus frowned back, but Malik merely shrugged. “If I was still a Son, maybe I’d be able to open it, but...”

A second later, all hell broke loose.

A shutter opened on the wall to Malik’s left, revealing a quad-laser turret a moment after the Neti’s twin lightsabers had already sprung into life, his Force senses having pre-empted the attack. The Journeymen in the row in front of Karimicus screamed as blaster fire rained from the ceiling, the fellow Equite doing what others throughout the Grand Hall mirrored, jumping to the Journeymen’s defence.

As he deflected the bolts away from the unarmed Journeymen, Malik felt something touch his shoulder... and turned to see his own face staring back at him, as his marble statue pulled back its fist to slam the Neti in his back. As the Sith staggered forward into the chair Karimicus had previously been sitting on, he saw the other statues throughout the hall coming to life. Automatically, one of Malik’s legs extended, the Neti’s roots stretching forward into a vine to sweep his marble replica off its feet.

While his roots drew back into his feet, one of the Journeymen in front of him screamed and fell to the ground. He spared a glance down to check if they were alright, to see a plume of smoke rise from a hole in the back of their head. The Neti grit his bark and fell into the all too familiar motions of Soresu. He might have been Sith, but he had also once been Jedi.

Standing back-to-back with Karimicus, Malik launched himself into the group of Journeymen and began sending bolts back into the turrets.

Kalia

12-06-2012 00:35:09

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
Orian System

What the hell was going on? Kalia examined the solid door before her as she heard the carnage within. Locke had ordered her to the Great Hall and the door had quite literally slammed in her face. Now she couldn't know for certain what was happening, but she could feel the pain emanating like waves. Gritting her teeth in frustration the Ragnosian Quaestor opened a comm channel to her Aedile.

"Methyas, we don't have a choice anymore. It's time to activate the SHADOW initiative." She paused a moment, her voice echoing within the lonely hall.

No response came from the other end of the line, a worrying thought but she had faith in Methyas' abilities. Thinking quickly she toggled into another secure channel, contacting the acting head of the special operations division that had arrived with them.

"SHADOW is go. I need a Recon team in place ten minutes ago and you will find whoever is responsible for this." Her voice had lost a bit of its silky quality in the chaos of her anger, the words were electric. "I want SHADOW's elite on this. Priority one. Get this done and fast"

A sudden mechanical whir broke her train of thought, causing her to spin about in a flurry of cloth and hair. The barrels of a quad-laser cannon turned in her direction as the defense systems activated. Without thought the Ragnosian's neuronic whip sprang to her hand, the heavy chord snapping about to wrap around the coming threat. Upon contact, a supercharged jolt of energy shot through the lethal turret, shorting its targeting systems and causing it to emit a worrying sizzle.

"Someone's in our systems," Kalia raised an eyebrow, speaking to the empty air. "Damn, Locke's paranoia is paying off. Who knew this would actually come in handy."

Bravo Locke, she thought to herself.

As she spoke the code was already working in the background, signalling to Locke that an external source had accessed the Temple's network. The Consul had been thorough in his paranoia, knowing the potential for revenge from Macron. The Krath had gone as far as contacting the current Senechal within the Dark Council for some quick alterations to potentially threatening systems. Nothing extensive could be done in such short time, but a subroutine was implemented in case of such an event. It would be only a short matter of time before it kicked in, causing a full restart and all systems being routed to Locke's personal terminal.

Systems were already beginning to shut down, a fact that was noted as Kalia observed the light grid shutting down. The darkness closed in around her at a steady pace, as if taking a single step with each light fixture dimming. The Quaestor was torn, unsure for a moment if she should stay and try and help in the Great Hall or move to where she would be of more use. The moment passed as quickly as it came, her footsteps echoing as she made her way back to Locke.

"Atra, if you can hear this we have a problem at the Great Hall. We could use your troops."

Teu

12-06-2012 00:37:24

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
Orian System

Teu quickly moved out of the holding cell area, her eyes narrowed slightly as she heard some whirling coming from behind her. She turned quickly on her heel to look up into the angry barrels of a twin turret.

“Really..” Teu quickly pulled her lightsaber off of her belt and held it loosely in her grasp as the turret began to fire at her. She constantly moved backwards, her saber moving in an arc deflecting bolts away from her. As she moved her eyes narrowed slightly, busy with one turret she didn't take into account how near the staircase she was aiming towards, as it began to fire the first bolts grazed into her left arm, without second thought Teu grasped onto the tendrils of the darkside and sent a blast of energy at the turret. She tilted her head slightly as the turret stopped firing, holding her lightsaber in her right hand as she approached it quickly cutting it in half.

“Fracking piece of metal” As she spoke, she heard the turret she left standing stop firing. “Now you stop...course you do.” She turned off her blade and quickly placed a hand over her arm, her eyes glanced at it. “Ow.”

A small bit of blood oozed down her arm, she shook her head and moved up the stairs.

Teu’s eyes looked up above her at the light socket as it flickered and went dark. Her eyes narrowing slightly. She pulled out her comlink, several messages awaited her but she ignored the blue blinking light and opened a secure line to that of summit and upper tier Dlarit troopers. “Since it seems power is down for the time being it might be a good idea to make sure the person in the secure cells is kept in there.”

The proconsul sounded oddly cheerful, one of the rare occasions she let emotion slip into her tone. After closing the link without waiting for acknowledgement from the others, she pulled her lightsaber off of her belt and pushed the ignition switch. A pale blue blade extended out, she muttered under her breath as she moved up the stairs. “I really hate the dark.”

Teu opened a direct link to Locke, her eyes moving around quickly looking for anything out of place. “Locke, I think we need to redo the hallway down here. I'm thinking less dark and oppressive.” Teu shook her head. “Also whats the sitrep up there?”

Atra

12-06-2012 00:41:38

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
Orian System

The cyan blade shut off with an impatient hiss, the glowing remains of a turret falling in two before the Dakhani Quaestor. With a sigh, the young man glanced over at the Fist who had things very well in hand. "I really do hate breaking our own defenses, " he muttered quietly as the grid began to shut down. Saving what remained of the turrets after the two Dark Jedi were through. They had acted quickly, though not soon enough to save the unfortunate pair of corpses lying amongst Atra's vanguard. The Quaestor's unnatural grey and gold eyes fell on the still forms for a moment, no regret showing upon his features as he turned away.

A light flicked into existence upon his wrist terminal, signalling a waiting message. With a quick button press, Kalia's voice played loud enough for both men to hear. His head cocked to the side ever so slightly, glancing at Fremoc once more.

"Looks like we gotta run... Again..."

The Quaestor sighed, careful not to let his exasperation show. This whole escapade was growing tiresome and he felt like they were spinning their wheels in the mud. Every time they started to get a handle on something, something else would go awry. It was, frankly, infuriating. Still, he didn't let his emotions rule him as his mind processed. They had expected something from Macron, but the sheer scale of what they were now dealing with felt completely different. He still felt the foreboding that accompanied Macron in his thoughts but there was something more to it, another's hand at play.

"Someone needs to remind me why I bothered waking up today." Atra's words were muffled behind the palm that now called his face home.

As the Corellian's attention returned to the battlefield he caught sight of Fremoc already moving towards the Great Hall. Atra glanced at what remained of his vanguard, cocking his head in the Fist's direction as he signalled them to follow. A quick command as he walked signalled the garrison commander to deploy in full as needed, responding to any orders coming from the board of directors. Ensuring they responded to more than just himself would cut down on both his micromanaging and their response time. Sighing once more, the Quaestor found himself scanning the halls around him. He was always uncomfortable in close quarters, an annoying repercussion from his time under Macron's care. Of course, he was getting a better handle on it thanks to Mirado's instruction but it wasn't as simple as flipping a switch.

It didn't take long for the small group to arrive at the closed off Great Hall. Fremoc's anger was palpable, making his aura churn as if it were on fire. Atra eyed him warily for a moment, though he knew himself not to be the target of so much ire. The Corellian started to take a step forward when pain slammed into his mind like a torpedo. His hand snapped to his forehead as a grimace spread over his lips. The pain was one he knew well, though he hadn't felt it in some time. The pain had been caused by Macron's experiments, though after his encounter with Tsainetomo he had thought it gone. Looks like the other me is getting restless, the Quaestor's thoughts fell upon the face he kept hidden from the clan at large as he pushed the pain away.

His communicator chirped annoyingly as it intercepted nearby communication from the DSOG troops. It would seem there was a high priority prisoner in the holding cells, more notably a Mandalorian by the way the man was cursing in the background. A hint of a grin flashed over Atra as he turned towards Fremoc.

"Dumb question, but I trust you got this?"

"Mmhmm," the Fist raised his right palm as an immense pressure built within the cramped corridor, a self satisfied grin on his face, "Very much so."

The Quaestor spun away, working his way back towards the holding cells as a concussive blast caused him to stagger mid-step. Without glancing behind he found his footing once more and picked up the pace. Through happy coincidence Atra managed to move past Teu in the darkness of the system reboot. She was making her way from the cells just as he slipped in. The Corellian's eyes took some time to adjust to the darkness, phobia threatening to pull his grip away as he locked down his fear. After a long breath he entered the cells, finding his way easily as a stream of Mando'a assaulted the trooper's collective hearing.

Despite the distraction the troops were well on guard, rifles snapping to attention as he entered, even in the darkness. Atra's cyan blade snapped to life in his hand, casting a pale glow upon the stone of the cells.

"I don't care what your orders are, you are needed in the Grand Hall. Understood?"

Without missing a beat the DSOG personnel scrambled from the room, not stopping to question the orders of a superior. Roxas, on the other hand, was finally quiet as he looked through the bars.

"What do you want?" The mandalorian spoke with obvious anger in his tone. No doubt he associated Atra with his capture.

"Not quite sure to be honest, I only just found out you were here."

"I doubt that, it was you who ordered me to Markosian."

"While that may be true, it was not I that ordered your detainment."

The two men stared at each other for a long silence, their equally unnatural eyes refusing to blink. The glow of Roxas' pupils was enough to unnerve anyone else, but in those eyes Atra saw potential.

"So," Roxas spoke again, this time more careful with his tone, "what do you want?"

"Well, I'd like your help to be honest."

Roxas' eyes narrowed, uncertainty writ upon his features. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, for one, I can get you out of that cell..." Atra gestured lazily towards the cell door before continuing. "On the other hand, we both have a shared... Let's call it a... Situation." His eyes flashed dangerously for a moment, the gold leaking into the grey for a split second.

The Mandalorian thought long and hard as he weighed his options. He didn't know Atra at all, though he could see the similarities in the man standing before him.

"I suppose we can call that an arrangement... For now."

Without a second thought Atra keyed in the authorization codes and unlocked the cell door. The holding cell was an odd mix of archaic stone and technology, responding quickly, albeit begrudgingly, to the code.

"Get your stuff from the supply locker, we gotta get to the Grand Hall. Maybe Fremoc has left something for us to do."

Anochiir

12-06-2012 00:42:17

Staging Area, Southern Plains
Kar Alabrek, Tarthos

Setsuna stood on the fringes of the staging command center. She detested long drawn out occasions, but this was on that simply couldn’t be helped. There was a sudden uproar from the center of the camp that forced the girl to turn and look. A familiar soldier was running up to her position. “Ma’am, we have a situation.”

The young Obelisk raised an eyebrow at the man. “What situation is that, Sergeant Hivers?”

The soldier simply shook his head and gestured back to the communications center. “You need to see this for yourself, ma’am.”

Setsuna nodded at the man and gestured him forward. “I will be there momentarily. Tell the Captain I will be with him shortly.”

Hivers nodded and turned to run back to the makeshift building. She shook her head slightly and muttered darkly, “If this is about sanitation, I’m going to murder someone.”

The young Ragnosian moved quietly through the encampment and headed towards the communications center. She watched the men move about the camp with a sense of satisfaction. They knew their jobs and needed very little interference from the usually soft-spoken Obelisk. As she neared the Comm Center, she felt a distinct sense of unease.

The door opened to admit the girl, who stepped inside and immediately located Captain Mactavish. He looked up at her and nodded before pointing to the panel of screens in front of him. “We have lost all communication with Sepros.”

Setsuna looked at the screens, not entirely comprehending the simple statement. “What do you mean we’ve lost communication?” her tone was clearly demanding an explanation to the problem. “Tell me how we simply lose the ability to contact an entire planet, Captain.”

Mactavish shrugged slightly and shook his head. “The causes are unknown at this time. However, I would imagine this problem will sort itself out shortly. We simply have to continue operating on the theory that they will send support when they have taken care of the situation there.”

She stared at the screens and growled. “Sir! We’ve lost communications with Aeotheran as well! The whole network seems to be shutting itself down!”

The Captain swore shortly before Setsuna whirled on him, her eyes blazing. “Do you have any theories, Captain? Give me something to work on. We’re all alone out here.”

Locke

12-06-2012 01:45:13

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
Orian System

Lockes’ office was dark. His eyes were focused on the console in front of him. Thank you, Orv. They’d all said he was insane to be so paranoid, but the Consul’s suspicions had paid off. It seemed Macron had powerful allies. First the attack on the YVH droids, and now the security system of the entire temple. Good people had died for this. Locke’s fist clenched and he beat the console once. You’ll pay for the lives you took this day, Macron.

Sighing, Locke silently vowed not to let a personal vendetta cloud his judgement. It was getting more difficult as time went by; he hadn’t had a bit of rest since the battle with the beasts outside. Instead the Krath brought up a camera feed on the Grand Hall. “Let’s see just how much control this code gives me.” Pressing a button on his console, Locke relaxed with relief as the turrets in the Grand Hall stopped firing and the doors swung open.

Let’s see if I can get voice access. Locke pressed another button, hearing his own voice as it boomed over the emergency channel to every speaker in the facility. “Attention, forces of Naga Sadow, this is not the speech I had planned. The system has been ha...” He stopped as he suddenly no longer heard his voice through the speakers. “...acked. Dammit, Macron!” Locke banged the console. Nothing happened, but the lights flickered. The console blinked and a new message appeared: counterattack detected, attempting to reestablish control.

“Great, typical automated message, “ Locke grumbled. After a few moments a new message appeared: I have established limited control. “I?” Locke asked out loud. That was an odd way for a computer system to respond. Oddly, the screen didn’t change, except for a single input prompt. Frowning, Locke keyed the words: “status report.”

Rather than a technical list, the response came back in a more flowing style: Grand Hall is secure, defenses deactivated. Defenses throughout the facility continue to be active. The system also detects unknown entities outside the facility. They are not reading as beast or Dark Jedi.

“What access do I have?” Locke queried to the system, or whoever he was talking to.

Limited communications only. I have quarantined the Grand Hall. While the enemy cannot gain access, you cannot communicate with that area either. I am detecting a separate signal inside the facility, between one of your allies and a squad of troopers, would you like to be connected to said ally?

“Yes, “ Locke typed, “and who are you?”

Connection established.

“Kalia here, “ came the Quaestor’s voice on the other end.

“Kalia!” Locke was thankful he could at least reach some of the Summit. “Ah, er, the system tells me you may have communication with teams somewhere in the Temple, what’s going on?”

There was a pause before the reply came back. “We will find our enemy soon, though it’s odd that they aren’t in the Temple anywhere that we can find.”

“Not in the Temple?” Locke asked. “Maybe outside?”

“Negative, “ Kalia said, “but I have other ideas, “will keep you poste-” The communication died and another message scrolled across the screen. Had to cut line, enemy tracking communication.

Locke frowned before typing another message. “Do I have contact with the other leaders?” He wondered just how much this person - if it was a person - knew.

One, patching through. Make it brief.

“Don’t order me...” Locke mumbled.

“Locke, is that you?” It was Atra’s voice. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure, “ Locke answered, “but the Grand Hall is secure. I just can’t reach it. If you can, link up with the Dark Jedi there and inform them of the situation. The turrets in the rest of the temple are still active, also, you may have some communications, but I’m not sure. Someone-” the screen beeped and text scrolled across the screen, indicating the message had to be forced closed. “I bet that one was on purpose, “ Locke said quietly.

Locke typed one more message. “Can you locate the Vice President?”

There was a pause before a reply came across, indicating a location in the facility. “Do I have any way of contacting her? There must be something!” Locke queried.

Another pause, longer this time, then: Lights. Flickering, maybe. They could lead the way here.

“Do it, “ Locke typed. He sat back, drumming his fingers on the console. For the moment, he was practically helpless, though at least the Clan’s forces had the House leaders in the field, and they seemed to know what they were doing, even if the Temple’s network was going haywire. “Now, where the hell are you and your friend, Macron?” Locke said aloud, to no one in particular.

Macron Sadow

12-06-2012 16:45:21

Unknown location
Deep beneath the Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

“Fascinating,” muttered Macron as he watched the Sorcerers work. He had read of such things, especially in the Holocron of Antar IV back when Muz and Xanos had him examine so many years ago. However sorcery was not the alchemist’s forte. The intense martial and lightsaber training left little time for anything else. Everyone had their limits, and so did he. The Sith could still appreciate a manifestation of the Force though. “I’m impressed. Animation is no easy task according the scrolls.”

“You should be, Juggernaut,” smirked Trevarus as Macron rolled his yellow eyes in disdain. The arrogant Master had been pontificating for years.

“I have my own usefulness,” smiled the armor-clad man with the flashing metal teeth. “And you sir, have your weaknesses.”

Trevarus turned, eyes ablaze. “What do you mean?” The Krath Master was not used to being spoke to with such insolence. Even by a comrade in arms.

“Everything does,” said Macron calmly. “Xanos was right, as much as I hate to admit it. The trick is to know your strength, your inner self, and minimize your shatterpoints. And drive your enemies before you.”

Oddly enough Trevarus considered the words as Xanos smiled briefly. “You’ve changed since we last met, Secunda. You don’t fear Death anymore.” His eyes returned to the display. “The Undead will be there soon enough. The rest, a distraction. I found Sunei’s documents most useful.”

“I think he’s seen the transparency of Life,” commented the Dark Prophet. “The Final Way, my Apprentice.” The Dark Prophet nodded. “Now you See.”

Hollow words from a hollow man, thought the Warlord as he watched them return to their mutterings and passes of hands. He offered some water to Sildrin out of his kit. Soon the battle will be joined. That is when I will truly live. He checked his chronometer. By now, the forces above would have neutralized the virus within the YVH droids with the help of loyal Verpine.

Xanos

13-06-2012 13:05:42

Underneath the Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

The crystals that made up the ancient control panel sparked and then flashed violently. Suddenly, Sildrin screamed, her blind eyes still closed as her mind remained joined with the arcane interface.

Trevarus’s next move was like lightning, his body spinning away from the sorcerous image of the palace, as his hand reached for his apprentice behind him, the silver amulet on his hand clasping Sildrin’s shoulder as he tore her away from the archaic device, her screams still filling the chamber.

“I... I... can’t see,” gasped the woman, her chest pounding up and down as she breathed heavily, “he... interference...” Her words may have been lost, but her meaning was clear enough: someone in the palace above had fought back against her control of their systems.

Trevarus had known there was a risk, but their mission here was too important. The Oracle cupped Sildrin’s face in his hand and raised her diminutive face up toward his own. “Breathe, Lady Dragon.” The gemstone in the back of his hand blazed with fire. “Breathe, and hear my voice.”

Trevarus fell silent as he continued to stare into the woman’s atrophied eyes, his mind with hers.

Macron did not speak as he watched on from the side, although the Falleen standing alongside the alchemist did not even turn back from the image of Sepros covering the floor. Macron’s eyes flashed toward his former master and his jaw tightened. “Is there anything you care about?” he muttered, more to himself than the Dark Prophet, as the alchemist turned back to watch Trevarus work his mind across the threads of the Force, to draw Sildrin’s mind back from the maze into which it had fallen.

After a pause, Xanos answered. “She will live,” he said, although there was no sign if he cared. The Falleen finally turned round from the animation of the palace. “There is no fear, my old apprentice, when the future is transparent.” Xanos raised his hand up toward Sildrin, and in the same moment her eyes blinked, and she slowly drew her head back from Trevarus’s hand.

“Welcome back,” Trevarus said, lowering his arm as the gemstone in his amulet went dark again.

Sildrin turned her head toward each of the others in turn, then back to the Oracle again. “They broke my connection,” she said slowly, pausing as she collected her thoughts. “The ancient wards... they will not care who should trespass now.” As she spoke, there was a faint violet glow in her eyes.

Trevarus nodded and smiled slightly. “You did well, my apprentice.” The sorcerer turned back to look at the animation again. “The ancient guardians will hold the Clan more than they will tarry us.”

“We should make haste,” Xanos said, not even looking at Sildrin. “The undying will be upon us soon, my Master.”

Macron glanced back over his shoulder at the map. “The forest is restless, yes, hehe.” The alchemist tittered, his concern for Sildrin quickly being replaced by the movement nearing the palace, before his brief burst of excitement just as quickly dissolved again back into a hardened storm of umbrage. “Let us do what you both came here for then,” Macron said dryly, “then we can deal with the traitors.”

Methyas

13-06-2012 13:26:02

Palace Courtyard, New Sadow Palace
Temple of Sorrow, Sepros, Orian system

The shambling figures approaching had filled the courtyard in good time once the falsified signal had been sent calling the Disciples of Sadow back to the Grand Hall; yet not all had fallen for it. The Force bent around the Jedi like a protective blanket, a cocoon of light cloaking him as he focused on the figures before him, former slaves of Lord Orian and the Clan itself; each of these creatures in various states of decay as they threatened the Palace walls harmlessly. His brother's knowledge on the ability to remain unseen had been a boon, though now it seemed he was effectively cut off from his body, the same signal that had tricked many of the Clan into the Palace walls had also sealed it off. Shaking his head silently, the Miraluka almost chuckled to himself as he realized that the Krath were right in an aspect: Knowledge was power. He had felt Kalia's request more than heard it, something relating to the Palace lockdown having jammed their communication for the moment. Moving silently, Methyas secured himself within the walls, a doorway leading towards the Turbolaser's maintenance ways allowing him seclusion from the creatures outside wishing to do him harm.

Activating his communicator with a few swift keystrokes the device chimed a few times before it vibrated fiercely, the image of Captain Mactavish and the acting commander of "Twilight" shimmering to life before him, the Senior Director speaking swiftly as soon as the figures stabilized, "Authorization has been received, initiate Aurek protocol. Directors are suspect, contingency eleven." The figure at "Twilight" nodded slightly before her image winked out of existence as Mactavish replied curtly, "Acknowledged."

Sector "Twilight", Restricted Zone, Alabrek Auxiliary
Beneath Alabrek Citadel, Central Hub
Kar Alabrek, Tarthos

Captain Caroline Sark had gotten to work as soon as she heard the request, Aurek protocol had been what everyone at the facility had been waiting for, after all knowledge had been power for this cell. A single word hadn't even needed to be spoken; the operatives had all heard their Senior Director's request, many plans in motion and secrets upon secrets buried as they had prepared for this day. Contingency Eleven, had never been at the forefront of their minds however.

Moments couldn't be wasted as the Captain leapt into action, her voice echoing throughout the chamber as her request went through many secured and isolated channels, again secrets within secrets, "Aurek, Besh, Cresh and Dorn teams; Contingency Eleven, the switch needs to be thrown. Deny access to anyone below Senior Director, all access by members of the Board must be with authorized keys."

Lights pulsed across the console next to her as the responses came almost immediately and silently before the entire facility went dark. A heartbeat passed before life seemed to return to the chamber, consoles and lighting coming to life as voices of agents placed strategically across the system began to check in. Kalia and Methyas had put a lot of faith into this project and the many projects before it; it finally seemed that their efforts had not been in vain. Since conception, the redevelopment of Sadowan territory had gone with the idea that all could be self-sustainable and autonomous, something that had come in handy in insuring the cities could operate outside of influence of the SOG. It had been a necessary fragmentation largely from the threat of the Organization infiltrating and crippling the Clan with a singular bug; no, the cities of Kel Rasha, Kar Alabrek and San Korinar had been deliberate designed to be independent from the rest of the system, reporting only to Corporate systems as needed with DSOG terminals accessible only in high-traffic areas like the Dlarit Towers, places the Clan tended to congregate.

This necessary fragmentation had been something Methyas and Sai envisioned when they started the Clan down their Corporate path and a course of action that Methyas had continued; the civilian population would not suffer for the actions of the Clan. The Corporation remained operational through the use of Corporate aides and liaisons to the Board of Directors while the Clan operated purely through the SOG; a deliberate course of action which the Miraluka had taken full advantage of with this contingency.

Across Orian, cities went dark as their systems began to reset, the SHADOW protocols and contingencies taking root with their pre-deployed packages and systems going live as everything returned to life. Cyber-warfare intelligences, central monitoring packages, enhanced firewalls; the list went on, the various forms of artificial intelligences or "Droid intelligences" coming to life as Kar Alabrek, Kel Rasha and San Korinar reported in, the messages from these same intelligences streaming across the console before the SHADOW Captain, "Unauthorized intrusion detected, engaging."

One by one, names across the board lit up as SHADOW agents reported in with their activation and control of strategic locations and resources across Orian. Only two lights would remain dark for the moment: Markosian and Sepros. The former had been declared lost, Commander Setsuna's actions had effectively disconnected Markosian from their network, whereas Sepros had remained off-limits to their agency; Methyas suggesting they not meddle in the Overlord's affairs unless necessary, their knowledge of Locke's paranoia playing a part as well. A voice interrupted the woman's thoughts, "Captain Sark, Onyx has reported a lot of unauthorized traffic in the last several hours; Tarthosian cyber-warfare is engaging the threat and the station's systems have been isolated from the network through high-encryption firewalls. T-CW is reporting it will modify and contain the network surrounding Tarthos as necessary."

Sark smiled slightly as she acknowledged her agent's statement, continuing to speak over the secured channels, "Command of the Special Operations Group is to be assigned to President Sonjie until further notice, a state of emergency has been declared; no agents or Military assets will be permitted used without the President's express consent and authorized key. Research Group Theta is to be secured and locked down until we have been given new orders as per protocol."

"Ma'am, we're only receiving a response from Director L'eonheart's key; the algorithm is already running and his communicator has been linked. Other devices are beginning to go live now." Another agent called out from across the chamber before he continued, "A-CW is reporting it can't interface with Marakith, but systems are still gearing up across Orian so we can't get a full assessment."

Caroline responded sharply, "Keep us posted, we don't want any information slipping the net. Make sure our agents get those systems live as soon as possible."

Tubolaser Maintenance, Palace Courtyard, New Sadow Palace
Temple of Sorrow, Sepros, Orian system

"We've got no eyes on Sepros, sir. Agents inside the Palace are reporting that there seems to be a battle for control over the local systems, the Great Hall is secure at the moment at least." The voice of Caroline came across communicator, Methyas had decided to go audio only as his current whereabouts were rather...restrained.

"Locke has responded to each threat admirably, Captain. Right now I need to get inside the Palace to see if we can get our systems uploaded, keep trying to raise Kalia. We'll need everyone on this one."

There was a delay, the isolated and encrypted channel needing a moment or two to actually process the encryption, send the message and then decrypt the message on the receiving end. Upon the device a series of numbers shifted every couple of minutes, the programmed algorithm had been triggered by the Miraluka's biometrics ensuring both the transmitting and receiving devices shared this unique key to confirm the user's identity. Finally the response came, "Acknowledged, sir. Aurek scouts have eyes on the courtyard and hostiles therein, teams are in place to aid you in reaching your objective."

There was a subtle click as Caroline finished, a more pressing task at hand reaching the Executive Director as Methyas went to work; his leg lashing out as he channeled his Brother's spirit, the door to the maintenance area slamming open as the Jedi stepped out with Discord in his grip yet not ignited. The nearby "undead" turned their attention to the Miraluka as others remained focused on the Palace itself, those who came too close finding themselves without a head in mere seconds as the Jedi's blade leapt to life before just as quickly returning to its hilt. The Force came to him just as fast, no hand motions necessary to telekinetically grasp at the skeletal bones before tossing them aside like a rag-doll. Each meter forward that Jedi moved, each meter closer to the Palace entrance lead him deeper into the thrall; his free hand darting within his robes to withdraw one of Mirado's razors, the weapon moving startlingly fast as the Assassin's spirit lent his Brother the muscle memory required for the K'thri and Teras Kasi to deal with those who grew too close while he was distracted with his saber or the Force.

Without notice, a chill ran up Methyas' spine causing him to raise his saber to block something, anything. The gooey sound of flesh and the shattering of bones filled his ears as blood soaked his robes before the sound returned again and again and again. In the span of a heartbeat, the Force came to the Jedi's call, as he fell to a knee and pushed outward in a telekinetic pulse. The move typically wouldn't have been enough to move an individual but these creatures of meager flesh and bone could have crumbled with a touch. The creatures flew through the air, enough to give Methyas some breathing room as a smirk crossed his face and a few words slipped from his lips, "Thanks for the assist."

"You are clear, Director; we'll cover you as you enter the Palace." The agent stated as the sound of them shifting with their Verpine Rifle crossed the channel. The Shatter rifle may have been expensive, but the team had been in desperate need of it for situations like this, the Miraluka would have to remember to thank Atra for the armament later. For now he rose to his feet and took off towards the Palace doors as swiftly as the Force could carry him, the sound of skeletal bodies striking the ground behind him assuring him that the agents nearby could handle themselves. Now it was just a matter of getting inside to secure the Palace from external sources, and getting their systems uploaded into the Palace servers.

Malisane

14-06-2012 16:17:57

Marakith C&C
Aeotheran Orbit

Dir sat back his chair, contemplating events. Since the lockdown commenced Marakith was a closed system, and as such they had received no notice of events outside the station. The city below was quiet, and apart from the Orian Legacy on station near Aeotheran there was no major space traffic. None of this seemed to make sense.
Suddenly the doors behind his chair slid open with a slight hiss and Lieutenant Haskir turned and gasped."Sir!"
Dir got to his feet and looked round. Framed in the doorway was a tall, robed figure. Slowly he drew back his cowl to reveal familiar cold features. "Battlelord," Dir asked in surprise, "what are you doing here?"
Malisane regarded him cooly, "I am here on Sadow business Commander."
Dir took a breath as around the room the other six personell tensed. He glanced to his left and saw that the lieutenant had her fingers poised over the alarm button. "You are not supposed to be here," he said flatly, "the Consul has ordered the members to Sepros, and the Quaestor ordered any that remained on this station to be treated as hostile."
Malisane sneered. "I have lost count of the number of Consuls that have walked through the revolving door of leadership since I joined Commander, and they have been more or less impressive as each other. I care little for the orders or whims of the incumbent. And the Quaestor of Shar Dakhan has no authority I recognise on my Marakith."
He glanced around feeling the cautious and hostile emotions of the D:SOG personell. Hands now hovered over blasters, tensed for action. Dir could sense it as well. "Battlelord I ask you to stand down. Under the circumstances we will allow you to leave peacefully." Lieutenant Haskir watched the Battlelord like a hawk, her fingers brushing against the alarm button now.

Malisane sighed. "Foolish." He glanced at the Lieutenant and who suddenly cried out in agony clutching her broken fingers, then collasped backwards her chest crushed by a force strike. As the other personnel got to their feel and blasters drawing Malisane idly struck out at one of them, smashing the man against the wall to leave him slumped in a pool of blood against a console. Malisane's saber ignited and swept across deflecting two blaster bolts back at the originators who collasped with holes burning in their chests. Malisane leapt forward, slicing a blaster weilding hand from the nearest with a slash of his saber then reversing the cut to bite deep into the dying man's torso. Within twenty seconds it was all over, and Malisane deactivated his saber as Commander Dir stood alone, his face pale.
"That was unessesary Commander," Malisane said quietly, "you could have co-operated, and now your staff lie dead, and soon the remaining personnel on this skyhook will be dead."
Dir stared straight ahead, "I obey my orders, sir."
Malisane studied his features, "Very well," His hand snapped forward, the heel smashing into the officer's chin snapping his head back with a crunch. His neck broken, Dir's corpse fell to the ground. Malisane studied the rest of the room in satisfaction, then turned as the door slid open. TD1L entered the room, the hunter killer and utility droid striding into the room smoothly on it's tall metal frame.
"Awaiting orders Master," it said simply.
"Proceed with plan, access primary controls. And hurry we don't have long before the rest of the personnel come to investigate."
"Acknowledged master."

Malisane stood behind the late commander's chair watching TD1L as the droid accessed the database. It was the best the Clan had, a combination of the archives on old hunter killers, a droid he had managed to obtain from the Bastion and some of his own and Macron's designs. Innocent looking it had served for years as the protocol droid known as Tiddles until needed. "I have access now Master."
Malisane nodded. "Update the friend or foe settings on the internal defence systems," he instructed, "myself and the individuals I sent you as friend. All other organics as foe."
TD1L only took a second. "Acknowledged."
The Battlelord smiled in satisfaction as he heard laser fire and screaming from behind the doors, and he sensed death as the security systems cut down and massacred the remaining security and engineering personell left after the evacuation. "Excellant." He studied the displays. "Is the Orian Legacy still orbitting?"
"Acknowledged Master," TD1L replied, "According to the system logs they have been scanning us since the lockdown."
"Activate Defence plan Gamma seven."

VSD II Orian Legacy
Aeotheran Orbit.
Orian System

DSF Captain Tavok Lamir was concerned. "Have we received any response from Marakith?"
"Not as yet Captain," her first officer replied, "we are trying them on all command frequencies. The lockdown is still in place though. We can't even get a signal to their computer."
"This is damn perculier," she said thoughtfully, "somethings wrong down there, whoever in D:SOG ordered the evacuation appears to overstepped their authority, fleet command know nothing of it."
"We'll keep trying maam."
She nodded. She continued to study the display, the floating Battlestation filling her view. She frowned. "What's that?" she asked.
Her first officer studied the display as a few people around the bridge looked up in alarm. "Major power surge from the skyhook Captain."
"Identify it's source," she ordered.
"We don't have schematics of the skyhook D:SOG have it kept classified," the officer replied, "but it looks like they're powering their weapons."
"Transfer power to shields," she ordered quickly. The display of Marakith changed, the surface rippling as panels slid aside revealing massed weapon emplacements, and the star destroyed rocked as turbolaser fire hit it, glancing off the shields. The screen flased as a cluster of torpedos were detected on a imbound course. "Signal fleet command," she ordered, "we are under attack, request permission to return fire." She tensed as the torpedos struck the shields and the ship shuddered, alarms sounding, as turbolasers continued to flash into the weakening shields.
"Captain we are taking heavy fire," another officer called to her, "shields are down to sixty percent, they're using baradium torpedos. We can't stand this for much longer."
"Defensive pattern six, arm and lock turbolasers on target. Where's my damn reply from fleet command?" she looked angrily at her first officer who was talking on the communicator.
The ship shook again as a second wave of torpedo's struck the ship, "Shields down to fifty percent Captain," the operations officer reported
The first officer stood and faced her. "We are ordered to withdraw Captain," he reported, his face downcast.
"Withdraw?" she demanded, "Are they serious?"
"They do not want to risk hitting civilian targets," he replied, "or risk knocking the skyhook from orbit."
The ship rocked again and the lights on the bridge flashed again. Captain Lamir swore, "Get us out of here," she snapped.

Marakith C&C
Aeotheran Orbit

"Orian Legacy withdrawing Master," TD1L reported.
Malisane nodded in satisfaction, "As I predicted. Very well, move us down to minimum altitude, and move us away from the city. I would imagine they are as curious down there about the weapons display as the evactuation."
"Acknowledged Master."
Malisane studied the display as the droid manipulated the controls through it's interface. So far it had been easy, but that was down to flawless planning. From this point onwards things would be harder and depended on other's responses.
TD1L spoke up again, "Master the skyhook is now at the minimum altitude the safety protocols allow. I am unable to overide them."
Malisane nodded. "I am aware of that I wrote them. Very well, plot a course to the city of Kel Rasha and lock the engines on target, then shut down the computer system and reboot without the safety protocols."
"Acknowledged Master."

Sildrin

14-06-2012 19:43:32

Inside Remy Dlarit’s quarters
Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System
Sakura Dlarit attempted to cover her fear, not wanting to worry her son Remulus. The thing at her window with the fang-filled mouth had disappeared when suddenly the Palace defences had sprung to life.

“Mommy? Can I take this with me?”, Remulus looked up at his mother with big eyes.
“No. You heard your father. We can’t take this with us.”, She shook her head, but added a sympathetic look: “We will buy you a new one.” She added a towel to the bag.
The child pondered, but the promise of a newer version of this toy made him smile despite the precarious situation. “Can we buy it now?”.
Sakura sighed at the child’s logic. So innocent. So new. “No, Remy. Later. When we arrive wherever we fly to.”

Remy exhaled with annoyance, he grabbed for his saber. Though very young he was trained daily, physically and also mentally - as he was the Heir of Sadow. Though only the Sons of Sadow knew about this. He ignited his saber, making a few moves: “I will kill all that will threaten you, mommy.”
Sakura looked nervously at him.

A sound at the door made her draw her saber. “Miss? I am here to escort you....”, a voice said.

Close to the Hangar
Hidden location beneath the Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System
She nervously held Remy’s hand, always looking around. The red light of the alarm was flickering, casting an unnatural shadow on her face. There had been easily dispatched fights here, but the whole place appeared to be a complete chaos.
“IDEntIFy yOurSelf.”, the distorted voice of the computer was heard. The automated doors of a side room opened by a ghostly hand and shut again. Sakura muttered: “The whole system is a mess!”

“Welcome and have a nice daaarrrr.... rrrryyyyyyy.”. They quickly passed the sideroom, which’s doors opened and closed yet again.
The Saraii Chiss guard lifted his hand: “We are clo...”. He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as he was tossed into a wall, sliding unconsciously to the ground. Sakura let out a nervous yell, grabbing for Remulus. She looked at the figure that quickly approached, kneeling down in front of her. “Milady Sadow. I am glad I have found you!”, the figure said.
“Visitors and guestssss are supposed to frrrirst subscrrribe at the guest centrrre.”.

Sakura looked down at cascades of red hair, blind white eyes staring back, but yet beyond her. Her grip tightened around her saber, she knew only of one female with red hair and white blank eyes. Despite never having seen her in reality, Remulus blurted: “Sildrin Sadow!”. His training also meant deeper knowledge about every member of the clan - especially of the Sons and Daughters of Sadow.

Sakura’s mind was racing as she thought about the Daughter of Sadow’s affiliation. She knew that Sildrin was Trevarus’s apprentice, but that connection always seemed to have been more of a loose kind.
Sildrin Sadow nodded: “Yes, Remulus. Milady - I am glad I was able to get here in time.” The Daughter of Sadow motioned to the guard. “Your security was in danger.”
Sakura gasped: “He wasn’t the guard to bring me to the hangar?”.
“ I've just picked up a fault in the AE35 unit. It's going to go 100% failure in 72 hours.”
The last words of the computer voice were nearly screamed at them. Remulus covered his ears. Sildrin turned nervously around: “We have to hurry. Quick. The hangar is close!”.

Entrance to the Hangar
Hidden location beneath the Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System
They approached the door to the hangar as suddenly the computer voice shrieked:“IntruDer! IntRuder! InTRRrrrrr zzzzzzz.. thanks for the FIsH.” The defence system started going wild, opening fire with the laser turrets that popped out of the ceiling. Sildrin grabbed Remulus, wrapping her arms around him protectively. Several beams raced hungrily at the red haired woman, but they stopped right before they could burn her. Energy sizzled as it was stopped by Sildrin’s force powers: “RUN!”, Sildrin yelled, dashing towards the ship with Remulus in her arms. The singing computer voice haunted them as they where chased by lazer beams: "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you..."

Sakura started to run, following Sildrin, holding the bag with her belongings tightly to her. Remulus burried his head against Sildrin’s shoulders, his arms tightly wrapped around her neck as she dashed with force enhanced speed towards the ship. Sildrin tightened her grip on Remulus and he yelped as her fingernails digged deep into his skin, piercing it. They vanished inside the ship, hearing the last words of the computer for now: "There will be cake."

Finally Sakura ran up the ramp. She leaned heavily breathing against a metal wall. She looked up, searching for her son. She saw Sildrin having turned her back to her, and then her eyes widened from horror. Everything inside of her screamed. Trevarus Caerick was kneeling in front of her son. One hand resting on his shoulder, the other - silver encrusted - glowed with a purple nimbus of arcane magic.

Finally she found her voice, yelling: “Trevarus! STEP BACK FROM MY SON!”.
Trevarus Caerick looked up from the boy, which turned around in shock, wondering why his mother was upset. Trevarus removed his hands to grab for a cigar as he slowly stood up.
Sakura waved her son to her. Remulus ran confused to her, huddling her legs. “Did he hurt you?”, she asked breathless. “No, mommy. He healed a cut...” Trevarus remained silent; with this ever present smile on his lips; white teeth shining.

Sakura hissed: “Don’t you dare to touch my son ever again, Trevarus Caerick.”. She narrowed her eyes, watching how Sildrin stepped slightly behind Trevarus, showing clearly her affiliation. The face of the Daughter of Sadow remained dispassionately.
“Tron will hear about this”, Sakura said with a cold voice to them; though horror gripped her heart, remembering how easy he could control her. Not even to mention how easily he could even kill her.

Trevarus gently rolled the cigar between his fingers, his irritating smile still on his lips: “Send your father my greetings, young boy.”, he put the cigar to his mouth. Together with Sildrin he left Sakura and Remulus inside of the ship.

They left the ship behind them. Sildrin lightly tilted her head, her mental voice quietly in Trevarus’s mind: “Did you get what you wanted, Master Trevarus?”. Trevarus drew the first couple of puffs from his cigar. “Yes. Of course.”

Macron Sadow

15-06-2012 00:41:29

Tunnels
Underneath the Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

As the Dark Jedi moved toward the secret connection to the Archives, Trevarus stopped a moment. His eyes flashed as the Amulet crawled back up his arm in silver shadow. Sildrin had already gone her own way in haste at the request of the Krath Master. The man’s strange eyes focussed as he looked at nothing. “She is there, my illusion exists within the ship. The parcel has been delivered, so to speak. It will be safer removed than on the surface.”

Xanos merely nodded, the secret minds of the Elders being inviolate. “So. Astronicus will surely have to parley at this junction. Still, they must come to no harm. It is a greater foe that moves us. He has already seen it of course.”

Macron growled as an interruption. “Kidnapping children is not my style,” he spat. “They are weak and it is not appropriate.” He checked his kit, sabers, armor, and gear routinely. The blinking lights on his gauntlet and Sith battlesuit informed him that the Marakith Operation was underway. “Indeed,” he giggled. Macron touched a stud that served to enclose his gear with a puff of duraseal gas. His suit was his mind and soul. If all was well, tough, charghed- and it was, then then the madman juggernaut could contemplate reality.

“Found some mortals at last, have you, my Sith?” chuckled the wicked Trevarus Caerick. “I’ve seen you to do the most vile things. Beat people to death with their own crushed and severed limbs. Level entire blocks of people- women, aliens, children, and the old to death with turbolaser and baradium bombs from orbit. Unleash vile organic reagents onto city-sized targets both friend and foe to watch their faces and bodies melt in exquisite gelid agony. And the worst, betray your Clan with Vong biots within your flesh. I’m slightly surprised.” The Krath returned to his measured stride. “The Ekind that remain have predictably responded to the signal from the Amulet of Orian and attack everything.”

“For once, amazingly, you speak truth,” giggled the madman. His eyes flashed bloody yellow fire borne of Echani.. “Have you done so personally Trevaerus?” Macron faced him down. “Or has it always been done from the shadows? Can you say you have? No?” The unfortunately brief silence echoed in the place. “Ah the mighty have fallen silent. Yes, I have done all of those things and more,” hissed the Alchemist. “And I would do them again, and again for my Clan, without hesitation. Neutralizing a combat tactical or strategic area is one thing. Personal kidnapping of the disgustingly helpless is another. It violates the Sith Code. They present no threat and are weak and helpless. They are no sport, and nothing can be learned from humiliating or slaying the weak,” chuffed the Warlord. “I have lain down with the Devil.”

“You have done that for years,” whispered Xanos evilly. “The Dark Side is your mistress. The Final Way is nigh.” If anything, the light seemed to dim around the mummified Falleen as he whispered his squamous truths. The Prophet had found the near pinnacle of Force ability, and yet he was still not made whole. Instead he was filled with hunger to absorb the fear, pain, and agony of those he coveted. He had found rebirth, at the hands of Hunger.

“You mean your victims, Secunda?” asked Trevarus with an arrogant smirk. “Your Prey?” The Krath tried to posture and boggle Macron- and it did not work.

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” tittered the lunatic as his hand lovingly caressed the hilt of the Sword of Shar Dakhan. “Yes, them. I enjoyed killing every- last- one. And I learned something from the experience and grew. Thank you both, and my Master Manji for the power, beatings, and training painfully given me. My vision is not yours, although we serve the same Mistress. I intend to rendezvous with my.... acquaintances. Ones that I have a personal bond with.” Macron stepped to a side passage. “I still have the Sword and the Ring of Wrath. I may not have your puissance but I can handle my own business. I sense Roxas... and Atra not far from this level. I will see and speak with them. They may be allies in this dark hour. The Clan needs us to succed.”

Xanos

15-06-2012 16:10:57

Beneath the Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

A stone wall blocked the three Sadows and Apostates path at the end of the passage. A large crystal adorned the centre, and was set back into a small alcove, filled with cobwebs. Trevarus stepped forward and smiled slightly.

“We have arrived,” the sorcerer announced.

Behind him, Macron and Xanos waited as the Krath Master reached into the bottomless pouch on his waist and withdrew a sharp, serrated talon. The shadowfangs of Kro Var were probably unheard of by the others, but Trevarus still carried the sting of their venom in the scar on his left thigh.

He placed his left hand on the crystal and closed his eyes.

“KERAHU NA!”

Inside his crimson helmet, the mad alchemist frowned at the ancient tongue, but the Falleen beside him nodded slightly. Xanos was still to master the whole of his Master’s knowledge, but he had learned enough of the Rakata since his death seven years ago back on Lehon to understand this.

So it begins.

With the arcane words still echoing, the sorcerer sliced open his left palm and took hold of the crystal again. His blood trickled onto the gemstone. The crystal gently began to glow as the drops of blood seemed to swirl across its surface, the gem becoming brighter as the blood disappeared.

The wall began to shake and Trevarus stepped back. The ancient stones lifted free from the floor, thundering as they drew upwards into the ceiling and opened the path forward.

Artificial light shone from the other side.

“Come,” Trevarus said. “The Archives are not far.”

The hidden doorway opened into a familiar corridor in the basement of the Sadow Palace. Lights flickered on the ceiling, blinking on and off, and a doorway down the hallway kept opening and closing repeatedly. Trevarus laughed. The aftermath of Sildrin’s handiwork, no doubt.

Macron tittered as he stepped into the palace. “Hehe, didn’t expect her to say that.”

The group began up the corridor as the female voice of the palace computer system continued its meaningless chatter.

Xanos clenched one of his fists as the three walked, passing several glass displays housing various statues and ornaments in honour of Naga Sadow. “There is no time for games, apprentice,” the Elder said, strangely with more passion that he had shown since they had first landed their shuttle.

Trevarus laughed again. “I believe my apprentice feels the call of home.”

“I... we see what is to follow,” the Falleen replied, sounding apathetic again.

The group arrived at a junction, a corridor branching off to the one side.

“I’m sure you do,” Macron answered with a small shake of his head. Trevarus grinned in amusement at the alchemist’s lack of faith. “Well, I have my rendezvous to make,” continued the deposed consul as he studied the two Apostates each in turn. “I trust I can leave you both to your mission...”

“Trust?” The sorcerer flashed him another smile. “When has trust ever been in doubt, Alchemist?”

“When indeed.” Macron snorted and shook his head again. “Well, whatever should happen next, I will be seeing you again shortly, Trevarus.”

The Alchemist disappeared down the corridor as the two Apostates continued on their way toward the Archives.

Janos

15-06-2012 18:19:41

Marakith C&C

Malisane felt a familar presence headed his way, one he had not felt in quite a few years. "Status on that reboot?" he asked the droid. "Working," came the reply from the command console where Tiddles was busy restoring systems as quickly as possible. The familar presence was closer now, nearly at the doors to the C&C.

"Why am I not surprised to find you on a Skyhook pointed at the ground and moving at high speed?" came the voice of Janos Silverwulf as the doors slid open to reveal a much greyer haired KAP than Malisane remembered. "I thought you might like some company Malisane!"

Roxas

15-06-2012 22:58:38

Sepros

Sadow Palace

Detention center

Roxas stepped out of the cell and opened the locker thatAtra had pointed too. His eyes widenedas it seemed that his Mandalorian armor had been confiscated from Tarthos andbrought here to be stuffed into this locker.The helmet was missing, but it wasobvious why; it was still damaged and sitting on the workbench at thecrossroads. He quickly got dressed and grabbed the pistol that he took off ofthe now dead Lieutenant, but there was one important weapon missing and heprobably wouldn’t get it back. That weapon was his lightsaber. Roxas turned toAtra, his face showing that he had something to ask.

“What?” Atra inquired “Something wrong?”

Roxas nodded “What was the name of the Ragnosian onTarthos?”

Atra thought for a moment “Don’t know…why do you ask?”

“Because that ungrateful skow took my lightsaber.” Roxassaid as he turned and dumped a box of parts on a nearby table.

“Oh, almost forgot that I’d have to pay you for that job”Atra said digging in his pocket.

Roxas began sliding parts across the table to form a pileand then spoke as he started attaching them “Don’t worry about it. I’ll letthat one slide. I’m more wanting to let off some steam.”

Atra watched as the Templar built a new weapon. He fastenedthe pieces together quickly, but was short an important part. The Mandalorianbegan sliding stuff off of the shelf above the table until he found an armorysaber.

“Please be green.” He said to himself as he opened the panelthat held the crystal. “Well it’s cyan…like her eyes.” A small smile crossedhis face

Roxas added the last few touches to his new saber and thentested it. The weapon hissed to life as his thumb crossed the ignition switch.Oddly the weapon hummed very quietly. It sounded like a cellphone vibrating ina pocket. The weapon disengaged almost just as silently as it had activated andRoxas clipped it to his back at his right shoulder. It stuck out like he had asword on his back. He and Atra left the detention center and headed toward theGrand Hall.

The halls were dark except for the occasional light tryingto come on and just flickering out, as well as the glow from the Templar’seyes. Atra noticed the glow from the Mandalorian’s eyes and thought of a goodway to talk about them tactfully.

“Roxas those um… glow balls of yours are giving away ourposition…do you have a dimmer switch?”

Roxas giggled before responding “No, but I have noticed thatthe glow changes with certain emotions and that if I focus I can dim them some,hopefully it will be enough to not stand out so much.”

He took a breath to calm his mind and the glow dimmed. Hiseyes were much dimmer, but they were still obviously visible.

“Well now you aren’t blinding me, but try these.” Atra heldout his hand to give Roxas a pair of tented goggles.

Roxas slid them on and the two experiments continued downthe hall.

Malisane

17-06-2012 14:40:56

Marakith C&C
Aeotheran

Malisane studied the Krath in surprise. Janos he hadn't seen in years, since he himself had been a journeyman. Like many of the Sadows Janos had gained the title before Malisane had ever heard of the Brotherhood. "What are you doing here? How did you manage to come aboard?"
The Archpriest's features registered surprise at the second question. "How do you think? When you shut the computer system down you disabled the defences. I came in via the balconies. You ought to do something about that really."
"That doesn't answer the first question. Either you're lost or you're here on the orders of the Summit or the Heir."
"None of the above as a matter of fact," Janos replied calmly, "I have my reasons. Do you think the actions and intentions of the six of you escaped our notice? We share a bond of blood. Though I note several have given that up. But not you. I find that interesting."
"The others have their own agenda.. Whatever they have become and wherever their feelings lie I myself am still loyal to the Heir and the Clan."
The Krath smiled, "You have a strange way of showing that," he said glancing around him.
"I have my own views on what is best for this Clan and it's future," Malisane replied, "here and now they are the only ones that matter."
"I see," Janos replied, "so what are your demands?"
Malisane's features registered surprise. "Demands?"
Janos nodded. "Of the Summit. Presumably you have demands?"
The Battlelord shook his head. "I made no demands, I make no threats."
The Krath stuided the other Sadow. "So you intend to what?"
"I intend to give them a demonstration, one that will not be forgotten, and from it change will begin."
"I see," Janos said, his features unreadable.
Malisane shrugged. "You are welcome to leave, if you do not have the stomach for this. The balconies are that way."
Janos shook his head. "No, I will see this through. Perhaps you are right. They will try and stop you, you do realise?"
"I am aware of that, they will try, and they will fail. Within an hour the computer system will be restored, and fully under my command. I designed this station to stop an invasion by the Yuuzhan Vong, or by the Jedi, or by the other Clans. I am confident of it's defensive abilities both inside and out. I do not think many are fully aware of exactly what I have possession of here. We are secure."
"I hope you are right," the Krath replied.

Shirai

18-06-2012 08:14:20

Sepros, Orian system
Temple of Sorrow

His purple blade slashed that way. Then it slashed this way. Wherever he struck his lightsaber another creature joined the pile of dead reaching ever so closely to the entrance of the palace. This is unbelievable! The moment I get here, I get caught up in a coup d'état of this clans most powerful Jedi. The luck I have. With that thought Shirai Ryu Dupar killed another creature that dare try and dismember him with its claws.

Than that's when he heard a stream of conversation from one of the nearby DSOG soldiers leading, "...we can't spare the reinforcements from this side our troops are all tied up. We'll spread the word that Great Hall has been shut down and the Jedi inside need..."

Whatever the trooper said next was lost to the Krath Priest for he had already taken off. Using the Force to augment his movements, making him faster so that he could reach the Great Hall in a timely fashion and offer some assistance to his new brothers and sisters. He arrived at the entrance as soon as he could. To find that the doors were indeed closed and he felt rather than heard some of Dark Jedi actually dying within.

Ryu stood in front of one of the giant metallic doors, he could still hear turbo fire on the other side and he quickly came up with an idea. I saw this on a movie once, I bet it would work. He held up his left hand, the lightsaber still activated in his hand. With a great force of determination, he stuck his blade as hard as he could into the entrance. Hoping to eventually carve a way out of the gate whereas his fellow comrades would have no time to do so. But this would take a few. He hoped that nothing would attack him while he was trying this rescue mission. Or he and the Sadowians would be in a bind. A deadly bind.

Atra

18-06-2012 12:10:59

Beneath the Temple of Sorrow
Detention Block
Sepros, Orian System

The pair moved quickly through the alternating dark and light corridors. Something didn't feel right to the Quaestor as he moved and it had little to do with the man he barely knew that now stood beside him. His right hand almost absentmindedly touched upon the newfound scar upon his chest, his thoughts drifting to the man who had given it to him. As if drawn by strings, the Quaestor's head turned to the right just in time to see something he had not expected.

Atra skid to a stop suddenly, causing Roxas to follw suit in confusion before the pair heard a familiar chuckle. From the darkness of a connecting corridor a man clad in red armor strode halfway into the light, an almost palpable aura of hate shrouding him. Even through the mask the Mandalorian and Corellian could feel those eyes upon them.

"Macron," Atra stated flatly, the word holding none of his past disdain.

Slowly at first, the armored figure reached up to his helm and removed it. The light fell upon his pale, tattooed flesh and made it seem to almost glow in the darkness where he stood.

"If it isn't the failures. Are you lost, perhaps?"

The Quaestor remained passive while Roxas allowed confusion to show upon his features. It hadn't been that long ago that Roxas had fought against the coup alongside Macron. Since then he had come to question the loyalties he held, the code of honor hammered into all Mandalorians coming to the forefront.

"And you, young Qauestor, not so quick to run to your death this time?"

The ex-consul seemed intent on applying Dun Moch to the pair, for reasons Atra wasn't sure of. It was true, that last he had seen the Alchemist he had possessed a homicidal intent. Much had happened since then. Letting out a long sigh Atra could feel the pain in his head screaming for release, a release he had given it only a few times before.

"Failure is often merely a matter of perception, something you should be familiar with."

The Corellian's words were calm and clear, aiming to inform Macron that they would not be goaded. Still, the pair stood defensively with their hands upon the hilt of their sabers. They may not intend on directly fighting with the much stronger Mad Alchemist, but they wren't so foolish as not to be prepared.

"I was hoping we would meet," Atra stated calmly as he studied Macron's reactions, reading the curiousity that was fostering there, "and I hope you'll hear what I have to say."

Macron's arms folded across his armoured chest, not giving any form of spoken permission but doing so via his silence. Atra nodded in appreciation, feeling Roxas's eyes upon him as well. Letting out a long and slow breath he gave in to the pain at the back of his skull, allowing it to permeate through his being and flow out from his core. The gold starburst within his iris spread out, consuming the grey until only gold remained. Lightning-like tattoos snaked across his flesh, coming to life as if they had been there all along. The Quaestor's features became cold and harsh, devoid of all emotion and giving off an almost dead quality to his gaze.

"I am not who I thought I was," the Corellian's voice was monotone yet piercing in its clarity, "nor are you who I allowed myself to believe. The truth of the matter is, I have come to understand you, Macron. I didn't intend to, but I do. We are much the same, both slaves to the wills of others whether we know it or not. We are not enemies, nor have you made it your business to be such as that. So now I ask you, as an experiment to his alchemical father, do not make an enemy of this Clan. Help us forge a future free of such uncertainty and servitude."

Atra stared into Macron's eyes, studying him carefully as he let the words sink in. He didn't know what to expect when it came to the insane man before him, but he knew that it would be something.

Xanos

18-06-2012 12:34:46

Hall of Memories
Beneath the Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

Eyes followed the two Elders as they passed between the marble statues which stood guard outside the entrance to the Sadow Archives. Faces from antiquity stared back at them, from Hakagram and his father, Syn and Dreypa, right back to King Adas himself. The huge stone doorway stretched twice as high as a starfighter. Countless crystals of assorted shapes and sizes were embedded into the door’s face, with wire-thin filaments spreading out from the crystals in arcane runes and patterns.

The muddle of gems and wires hanging off the door was not unlike staring into an open heart.

Like some sort of pulse, the crystal filaments glinted each time the lights back down the corridor flickered on and off while the system continued its reboot following the Apostates’ intrusion.

The palace mainframe continued its prattle as the two Elders approached the door. The head on the statue to the left rotated, and its eyes glowed as it turned to face the sorcerer and the Falleen.

From whence comest thou to this place.

The statue’s words projected into the pair’s minds. Behind, the sound of rocks grinded together in the pair’s ears as the stone guardian rotated its head back again to face forward. Its eyes flashed.

Thou art not bidden to enter.

The walls thundered and shook as numerous heavy objects dropped onto the floor behind them.

“You know what must be done, my apprentice,” Trevarus said, not even bothering to inspect the source of the noise. The sorcerer’s role here was clear. The gem in the back of his right hand blazed as he lifted his hands above his head and began to recite the incantations he had first studied many years before the other Sons and Daughters of Sadow had even heard the name of the Orian system.

“I CALL UPON THE SORCERERS OF THE PAST! HEAR MY VOICE AND RECEIVE YOUR BROTHER!”

While the former Oracle shouted, repeating the same words that hundreds before him had once done in that very spot, Xanos turned to see the intrusion behind them. Stone faces stared back at him, where the statues they passed had pulled free and now stood assembled in the hallway behind. The lights down the walls on either side blinked on and off again.

The Dark Prophet said nothing as he calmly stepped down from the doorway and moved in front of the approaching wall of rock.

As the security system spoke, hidden compartments slid open in the ceiling overhead, revealing the barrels of numerous laser turrets. Without pause, the skies opened and a hail of green death rained from the ceiling, engulfing the lone Falleen in a flood of white light as the statues continued forward.

However the Elder simply stood there, his left hand held out in front of him, palm up.

Xanos may no longer have carried a lightsaber, but a true master no longer needed one.

The cocoon of energy he had wrapped around him in a bubble rippled when the lasers struck, harmlessly dissipating as he absorbed the energy. His hand clenched, the veins along his wrist bulging as if his body was crying out for him to stop, but the Dark Prophet continued, the dark side surging as the energy swelled inside him, growing bigger, and bigger...

The energy in his hand thundered and crackled like a tornado...

Xanos looked up at the stone guardians and the energy caged in his fist exploded, rushing down the corridor in a hurricane of wind and lightning. The statues in the front row were hit first, the marble shattering apart in a rain of stone and pebbles that then bounced off the row behind. Kind Adas’s face was torn off by the arm of Lord Dreypa who had been standing in the front, a second before Adas was himself then launched backward by the wave that tore down the hall, hurling the ancient Sith’ari along with all the others into the marble pillars and walls, where they smashed into pieces.

The Elder staggered forward, crashing down the steps onto his knees. His chest heaved as he fought to bring his breathing back under control.

Slowly, Xanos turned his head to glance back at Trevarus.

Like the surface of a lake, circles of air rippled around Trevarus, who was finishing his recitations to unseal the locked doorway. Still recovering, Xanos waited in silence while the crystals spread across the Archives’ entrance slowly became more bright as the Oracle neared the ritual’s conclusion.

“APERIS!”

Trevarus spoke and the Essential Construct bent to his will.

The crystals flashed and at long last the door finally began to move, rising into the eaves high above where the hidden blaster turrets had been housed until a few moments earlier.

Trevarus did not bother to turn back to inspect the chaos or help his apprentice.

“Come,” the Dark Jedi Master said, already moving into the Archives. “We must make haste.”

With effort, the Falleen pushed himself to his feet, the graceless movement looking more like a lumbering Ramoan than an adroit Veil dancer.

Drawing another heavy breath, Xanos finally followed his Master into the Sadow Archives. Inside, the answers awaited.

Janos

18-06-2012 18:58:24

C&C Marakith

Janos suddenly felt a surge of force energy within the system, "Damn you Trevarus. What are you up to now," he muttered to himself as he felt the darkside of the force flow through an old link that only one other member of the clan might be aware of.

"You felt it too?" Malisane asked from where he was immersed in helping the droid reboot the skyhook's systems. "Trev!"

"Yes, but not just him, there is a layer of something else I think. Something from before young one," Janos replied taking on the tone of the QUA he once was unknowingly earning a sharp glance from his fellow Son.

"It would appear we have guests," Malisane smirked as he looked at the sensor display, apparently that was back online.

"I hope you're safeguards are operational. From what I've learned recently I doubt the Clan we both serve in our own ways can afford to be severly depleted of dark jedi,"Janos replied as he fingered the hilt of his weathered lightsaber.

Sildrin

19-06-2012 18:35:26

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
Orian System

Kalia marched towards Locke’s office - her hair floated behing her - as if golden lights traced her path; her hips swayed with each of her steps - a promise of her apparently agile body. She passed a group of Palace soliders, they saluted briskly. Those troopers were specially trained on being quite a potent foe against force users - even higher ranked ones. Their leader said with a clicking voice: “Group Gold, spread and head to the Grand Hall. Group Gamma, search the area for any of the enemies.” Kalia nodded to herself, feeling more secure. As the leader turned to her: “Quaestor Kalia. We have this area secured.”
“Thank you.”, she answered. Lights flickered and Kalia casted a look upwards, murmering: “Just a few more minutes and SHADOW will have gotten us back full control.”

There was much to do. Her head was filled with pressing questions - where are they? What is their plan? Why haven’t they attacked yet? The worries apparently started to give her a mild headache. She raised an ivory hand, rubbing gently her temple. Suddenly - footsteps made her grab for her saber. The troopers raised their weapons. She narrowed her blue eyes, focusing on the approaching person in the flickering lights.

A Saraii Chiss guard turned around the corner - one of the many Saraii that worshipped the Overlord and were his most loyal and fierce guards. The troopers aimed their blasters at him, but quickly lowered them on their leader’s order. The Chiss saluted briskly, his red eyes flashed lightly. The Troopers and Kalia relaxed. The Saraii Chiss winked to the soldiers, nodding to Kalia and walked past them. Kalia had seen that look - his red eyes had lingered on her curves more than they should be. She couldn’t resist and allowed a small smile to sneak upon her lips.

“I will report to Consul Locke about you having secured this area.” she said and continued her way to Locke’s office, suddenly trying to pick up her former thoughts. Faintly the word "red” was haunting within her mind. She couldn’t associate it though. The dull ache within her head spread. Something was not right. *red*.

The computer’s voice resounded through the corridors. Kalia halted; her delicate arched eyebrows pulled together to a frown. Something was not right at all. *red* Suddenly her blue eyes opened wide. *red long flaming hair* That had been no Chiss!
With a hissing sound her saber turned on. The crimson blade hummed in a calm mesmerizing way. “Locke, Kalia here. I believe I have found Sildrin Sadow.”, she whispered into her comm. “Kalia? I will send Group Gamma and Group Gold to you! They are closest to your position!" Locke’s voice answered, "Be careful! Don’t attack her before the reinforcement has arrived.”
“I won’t. I will just try to find out about her position. Over and out.”, she replied.

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow, Storage Hall
Sepros
Orian System

She traced back her way until she ended up in front of a storage hall entrance. Silence.
She used all her skills to sneak as quiet as possible. Where are you?, she wondered. Maybe she had left already? The storage hall was filled with crates up to the ceiling, a very dangerous place to play Hide and Seek. Only the middle of the hall was devoid of any crates.
“Are you looking for someone?”, a gentle voice asked from the right side - an unworldly melancholic voice - close being a mere whisper. For a moment Kalia stood frozen by the voice’s emanations - the sadness and melancholy within was close to overwhelm her.

Kalia breathed in sharply - going into the elegant defensive stance that marked Makashi; she raised her saber towards the voice’s direction. “You are arrested for treason, Sildrin Sadow!” She made her silken voice as firm as possible, hoping for the soon arrival of the guards. Sildrin Sadow was sitting on a crate. Legs crossed and her chin resting on a pale hand. The Krath woman’s blind eyes appeared to pierce right into her; Sildrin tilted her head to the side with a slight movement and chuckled softly. “I am sorry, but I am very unwilling to get arrested. I still have a couple of things to do and I am afraid I don’t have much time for a proper conversation.” The Pontifex closed her eyes halfly, lowering her head lightly - as if looking ashamed. “Perhaps a different time...?”

The blind woman transfixed her again with those completely white eerie eyes. A glint of humour sparked within them, but quickly faded, leaving behind two silent sentinels.
No. Not a different time, but what I do need is more time, Kalia thought. She raised her saber a notch, showing her rejection of Sildrin’s offer to delay the conversation.

“I guess that means ‘no’.”, Sildrin hopped off the crate, grabbing for both of her sabers that dangled at her hips. Kalia raised her chin: “Don’t believe you can easily kill me - I saw several Jedi having realised that it is not an easy task!”, with defiance she replied the hissing sounds of Sildrin’s purple sabers.
The Daughter of Sadow faintly smiled: “But for being able to see,... you need light.”
At that moment the hall’s lights went out as Sildrin’s force powers ripped apart their power lines; even Sildrin’s sabers had fallen dormant, shedding no light. “ I - myself - have no need for it.”, Sildrin’s ghostly voice accompanied Kalia into darkness.

Kalia hesitated, but also turned off her saber. Not that the blind Krath woman would be able to see the light, but she could hear the humming sound and locate her easily. The Quaestor reached out with her force senses - in front of her inner eye the image of the storage hall with its crates and shelves appeared, but she simply couldn’t sense Sildrin.

Suddenly she heard the humming sound of two sabers - making her twirl around. The sabers’s light shone brightly, surrounded by complete darkness - and they charged her. Kalia deflected the sabers with ease. She smiled about her reactions. The sabers continued to attack her relentlessly, but Kalia was still able to defend herself. Suddenly she saw a weakness of her opponent’s defence. Both purple sabers were spread, baring the middle of the Pontifex. With an elegant riposte she stroke at the middle where Sildrin’s chest would be - and hit... air. She tumbled forward, suddenly guarded by a purple saber on each of her sides. What the....?

A faint giggle on the other side of the storage hall made her realise her mistake. That sorceress had used telekinesis to manipulate her purple sabers against Kalia. The sabers retreated back into Sildrin’s hands - casting a purple hue on the sorceress’s porcelain face for a moment until their lights died. Everything was cast in darkness again - besides Kalia’s red saber.

Her eyes sought to get adapted to the darkness. Then her force senses picked up a shadow, a movement within the force. Her saber jabbed at the shadow, but yet again she hit air. Figment after figment tricked her Jedi senses, frustration started to surge within her. She is playing with me, she thought. Suddenly she felt invisible fingers caressing her cheek and down her spine. “Playing with you appears to be more interesting than killing you - for now.”, she heard Sildrin’s ghostly voice whispering.

Suddenly bright light flashed up. Kalia cried out as she was blinded by the bright light that died as quickly as it had come. Locke... hurry. I need those guards. I hope Gold and Gamma are close. They were specially trained for such a task.

Macron Sadow

20-06-2012 21:35:33

Beneath the Temple of Sorrow
Detention Block
Sepros, Orian System

A few pregnant moments passed. Macron nodded slowly. “Atra, your words make sense. I detest servitude. We are indeed slaves to those with more power, every last one of us,” agreed the Warlord. “So it has been even since before the Sith and The Who Came Before. My chains shall be broken, and all that happy crap. I hear what you are saying,” replied the madman. “Nor do I wish anything but success for this Clan. And killing you both would be a waste, hehe. However, Locke did forcibly depose me, and at the hands of a mutineering band of fellow pilfering Clanmates.”

Roxas looked at Atra. “Reminds me of Mandalorian training. Debts of honor are important to us.” His gaze returned to the madman although he remained ready for a confrontation. “I can understand.”

The Alchemist clenched his fists as his face twisted. “He must pay.”

“If you kill him, that won’t serve anything. If you can, that is.” The Quaestor smiled. “Locke is no fool, and it is highly doubtful he’d face you in single combat unsupported. You know he’ll draw on every resource. And the Mechu-deru droids are operational again.”

Macron grinned. “I figured as much. Distractions, distractions.... If I wanted him dead, he would be already. You have to wonder why no one went home in a zip-bag when they came to depose me eh?” The Sith hefted a lightsaber hilt nonchalantly and twirled it deftly between the fingers of his right hand like a baton. “Hell of a mess we have here, by the way.”

“I had wondered, yes. I’m aware of your reputation, Macron. I've heard a ferw things. I'm afraid insanity haunts your deeds. However I already know the answer. It's the same answer I'd have. That any ... experiment would have.” The Corellian gestured at the door. “Care to come with me?”

“Maybe I’ll just beat him to within an inch of his life in front of his vaunted supporters-maybe some of them too- and then offer to teach him the error of his folly.” Macron giggled as they walked upwards from the detention block level. “That actually sounds more fun.” The Sith touched his forehead thoughtfully and mumbled. “Sildrin has already engaged them, and the Others... are not far.”

Tron

21-06-2012 01:16:57

Astronicus Hidden Villa

Watching the monitors which displayed all of the events taking place at the palace intrigued, but did not surprise him. His secretly placed surveillance equipment was paying itself off finally. Astronicus found the events taking place to be both a part of the Dark Side but also disturbing in that they involved so many of his family, both biological and adopted. The time was nigh and his part in this was soon to take place.

"Ready the transport for Sadow Palace." He ordered one of his Saraii guardians. "And awaken the sleeper cell Dark Jedi within the Clan, it is time they played their part."

Soon all would be revealed and all would understand why it was taking place. There were far grander things in motion here than any could begin to comprehend.

Shirai

22-06-2012 07:20:46

Sepros, Orian system
Temple of Sorrow

Though Shirai wielded one of the most powerful weapons constructed for a Jedi. It was arduous work trying to cut into the door, and he tried frantically because it was becoming evident that the turbo fire from the other side was not letting up in the slightest. The Krath Priest was making progress hindered. But it was tedious still. He was at least halfway through it after about two minutes.

Sweat from the fight earlier began to pour down his face as he tried to make as big as arc as he could because he knew more than one person would be trying to flee from the onslaught of fire. The Dupar Priest cut deep until he finally had himself a nice sized cut whole. Big enough for a small group to leave at once. He pulled his saber from the door as he finished it at the bottom.

Jumping back he summoned his Force Power to do his bidding, and sent a powerful Force Push to the wall. Shirai had been expecting it to fall back but it just budged forward. He scowled as he gather his Force power again and sent another powerful Force Push, screaming as he threw both his hands forward. The very thrust of his consciousness willed himself to send the power he needed to the door. Blowing it backwards and leaving a gaping hall to the Great Hall. He ran forward to the entrance and yelled into the Great Hall, projecting his voice via the Force, "Everyone to me! Exit out through the entrance!"

Then he held his saber out in Soresu form as he prepared to jump in and deflect any turbo fire upon the fleeing Dark Jedi. He would help against the fight with the Sons of Sadow when this was sorted out. If he could make it that is.

Xanos

22-06-2012 15:41:46

Inside the Archives
Sadow Palace, Sepros

Like a conquering hero, Trevarus Caerick strode into the Sadow Archives for the first time in nearly a decade, the third eye inked on his forehead swimming under his skin. Busts of the Clan’s founders looked back at him from the alcoves on either side, the tips of the chin tentacles dangling from the newly polished face of Shar Dakhan shining back at the sorcerer in the chamber’s unnatural twilight.

“It’s been a long time,” Trevarus said into the emptiness. His voice echoed in the empty chamber as his apprentice entered behind him. Xanos’s head flinched as the Dark Prophet joined him, another involuntary tick running through the Falleen’s body. Trevarus’s expression hardened. “Not long now, my apprentice. We are almost there.”

Xanos’s mouth remained closed, but his reply echoed from nowhere and everywhere. “They will know we have breached the gate, my Master.” The Falleen looked at the rows of lightsabers and antique blades that decorated the surrounding walls; Ximeno, Eagleye, and others names from the past stared back at him on plaques attached to some of the old blades, remembering the names of the fallen. Xanos turned back to his Master. “Sildrin’s tricks will not hold them for much longer.”

Trevarus agreed. The security mainframe’s announcements had become less inane; it wouldn’t be long before the system finished rebooting, and the Clan regained full control. The Oracle nodded his head back toward the entrance. “No one is to enter until our work here is finished,” Trevarus said.

They hadn’t played cat and mouse for Macron only to be defied at the last moment by his usurpers.

“If any enter, kill them.” The Oracle’s eyes glinted and he turned back into the Archives.

Outside the Archives
Hall of Memories

Fire crackled in Xanos’s hands as he stood outside the gateway to the Sadow Archives. Lightsabers filled the air around him, their rainbow colours floating quietly as he absorbed the incoming bolts.

With SHADOW’s help, the palace security system had finally finished rebooting. Sounds of battle rang out back down the Hall of Memories, where response units had already answered the alarm call that had gone up the moment the Dark Prophet had headed back outside to stand guard.

A hiss and crackle. A woman’s scream. More gunfire and lightsabers thrumming as Xanos hurled another of the antique blades down the corridor, skewering one of the oncoming soldiers like a kebab. An explosion as a grenade prematurely detonated in another’s hand. A growl from one of the mad creations that had stayed behind after the Alchemist himself had ventured upstairs to convene with his other two pets. The dark side flowed through the corridor in the flood of death.

It was Chaos made manifest.

A voice cried out down the Hall of Memories behind the piles of rubble from the shattered statues.

“There! Up there!” Heavy footsteps thundered louder as they neared, and were immediately followed by the piercing whir as blasters were charged to kill. “Intruder! In the name of Consul Sonjie, lower your weapon and—”

More gunfire broke off the Dlarit officer’s threat as boots clattered on the floor again. One of the tuk’ata howled as battle resumed, Xanos’s presence momentarily forgotten as the Dlarit troopers turned to deal with their more immediate threat. A second later, everything was lost to the crackling bellow of thunder, light reflecting off the walls, as the Dark Prophet unleashed the strength of the dark side on those who sought to hinder his Master’s work.

Inside the Sadow Archives

Heading further inside, Trevarus was greeted by the many relics and scared artifacts he had once helped collect so long ago. Antique tapestries dangled from the above and the holocrons deemed too dangerous even to house on Tarthos in the Great Library sparkled from their respective shelves. Trevarus paused, allowing himself a small smile at the nostalgia as he took in the sight.

But as much as he would have liked to examine them all over again, now was not the time.

Bending down to carefully pass under the tablet of R'puntaf, the sorcerer made his way towards the golden candelabrum that was suspended at the end of the room. Three quite non-descript pedestals stood under the candelabrum on a small dais. A glowing crystal sphere rested atop each pedestal.

The Orbs of Power.

The air around the spheres appeared to ripple, as if the Force was breathing in tune with each of their respective cerulean, violet and crimson throbs. While none, not even the Oracle, knew their full history, the Orbs had been recovered more than two decades ago, after Kale Lobacz became Consul and completed the work left to him by Trevarus during Kale’s time as his deputy. Many years later, the K’hamar’ans had tried to steal them back... but House Marka Ragnos had seen to that.

Even today, the Rite of Supremacy remained one of their proudest achievements.

Trevarus stepped up onto the small dais and placed his hand on one of the three orbs...

And an earthquake tore through the Archives.

Hall of Memories

For a brief moment, all battle ceased and the hall fell silent as no hands moved on triggers. Even the tuk’ata all went still, their fanged maws temporarily locked around whichever limb they had last been grappling.

“What was that?” murmured one of the response teams who had rallied to the Hall of Memories.

“The truth,” replied the Falleen outside the entrance to the Archives.

In unison, the tuk’ata howled and battle was rejoined.

Inside the Archives

The Orb of Power blazed with fire, engulfing his fist, but Trevarus did not relent and held on as the dais beneath him quaked and the plinth supporting the crystal sphere collapsed. Fractures spread across the massive bricks making up the walls to either side, the stones splintering, breaking apart...

But Trevarus held on, the fire spreading up his arm, eclipsing his whole body...

“SHOW ME!” the sorcerer called, shouting the words to make his voice heard over the unnatural tremor that rocked through the Archives. “REVEAL YOUR SECRETS!”

The Orb flashed... and Trevarus felt the ground disappear beneath him.

The sorcerer held up his silver-encrusted hand to shield his eyes as he tumbled into the void...

“Master, are you ready?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

When Trevarus opened his eyes, he found himself in a small torch-lit study. A thin wisp of smoke rose from the pipe in his left hand, and he turned his head to the source of the voice: a small boy, near-human, though his ears were slightly pointed.

The boy’s silvery eyes met his.

“I’m sorry,” Trevarus said, though his voice sounded different, “I’ll be out in a moment.”

The boy nodded solemnly and left, closing the door behind him.

Trevarus looked down at the notepad in front of him on the small desk. The words Centaxday 7th were scribbled into the corner of the page; the date was underscored twice, although the rest of the page was currently blank. Trevarus’s knees creaked when he stood up, causing him to wince a little; these bones were getting old.

The sorcerer stepped over to the window and looked outside.

The sun was almost set and the sky was awash with red as if someone had poured blood into the heavens. A memory of Antei’s dawn floated to the surface of his mind, but this was not Antei; this was not a world Trevarus had gazed upon, neither with his eyes, nor in his dreams. A fire burned in the small clearing outside, where he could make out the boy from a moment ago, standing on the edge of a circle of figures in grey robes.

Even inside, the voices reached Trevarus’s ears.

“WE CALL ON THE FANGED ONE...”

The air around the group appeared to coalesce, manifesting into a green mist that several of the figures shaped into faces at the center of the circle. Trevarus watched, feeling a measure of pride.

He turned to the door the boy had left through—and then saw it. On the wall behind where he had just been sitting hung a painting of the constellations as they appeared from this planet.

A map.

Trevarus’s skin burned when he opened his eyes again, letting go of the Orb, which still sat perfectly soundly on its pedestal. The destruction must have only been a part of the vision.

The sorcerer grinned and started to laugh. Knowledge was indeed Power, and now he had both.

“We have what we came for, my apprentice,” Trevarus said, knowing Xanos would hear his voice wherever his fellow Elder may be. “The Alchemist can deal with his problems, let us for now...”

The sorcerer trailed off as he felt something ripple in the Force. In his mind’s eye, he caught a flash of red hair. Sildrin. An unfamiliar face stood opposite the Daughter of Sadow, this second blonde headed woman clutching a crimson blade in between her hands. Trevarus’s smile faded.

An uncharacteristic flash of despair preceded Xanos’s response.

Master, if anything happens to her...

Trevarus nodded. Sildrin was carrying something most precious; something he suspected even the woman herself remained blind to. They now had no choice but to get involved. “We rendezvous with Sildrin and the Alchemist upstairs,” Trevarus said into the bond that tied him and his apprentice together in the Force. “It is time they saw why their Brotherhood was forged not on the backs of Grand Admirals and Star Destroyers... but through the power of the Dark Side.”

Trevarus and the Seven had fought this same battle seventeen years ago.

The Oracle already knew the outcome.

Sildrin

26-06-2012 19:55:58

In the jungle - outside the Palace
Sepros
Orian System

The small group of the natives approached the Sadow Palace carefully. They called themselves The Undying. Remainders of the Ekind of this planets that had intermingled with humans - and one of the few groups that had survived the sacrificial rite performed by Trevarus Caerick, Xanos Sadow and Jedgar Paladin many years ago.

They worshipped the now dead Ekind, glorified their deaths and strived to become as immortal as their brothers and sisters were now - at least they so believed.

They attired themselves with attributes of death - chopped off limbs, bones, dried parts of defeated humanoids were added to their clothes, giving them a gruesome, zombie-like look. The usage of clay and paints on their faces, imitating the dead, deepened that impression. Nahuu looked around, he was chewing what once had been a hand, a hand of an opponent he had defeated. It would add his opponent’s strength to his own, that was what their Cult of Death preached them. “Bone Woman!”, he hissed.

A plump figure approached him, several of the other natives making space for her quickly. Her attire was similar to that of the others, besides an interwoven “crown” of finger bones in her greasy filthy hair. “What is it Nahuu? Why do you hesitate?”, she replied; everything on her seemed to heave with each step and move she made.
“Bone Woman.. ask the spirits! The Spirits of the Ancients commanded us to attack the False Ones. I want their guidance.”, he replied.

The Bone Woman gave him a hard stare, but then grabbed for a small satchel at her bone belt. She tossed a couple of dice made of bones on the floor. “Give me a sacrifice of life if you want answers, Nahuu! ” Nahuu grabbed for a knife and he pointed at one of the natives next to him. A smile appeared on the native’s skull-like face. He whispered: “For the Dead! We are The Undying!” and he offered his bare chest.

The still beating heart was offered to the Bone Woman. The blood poured over the dice. She smiled with content. Green ghostly orbs appeared, gathering around the group. “The Spirits are still with us. Their guidance is ours.”, the Bone Woman said, baring her rotten teeth as she smiled.

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow, Grand Hall
Sepros
Orian System

Lakme stumbled over the blood and bodies on the floor. She was retreating with those that were the survivors of this massacre. A Krath Priest named Shirai Ryu Dupar had cut open a hole in the wall - a way to escape. She slipped, landing onto a dead comrade whose eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling, half of the head was missing. She gasped trying hastily to get up, but the blood and her weak knees rendered her effort useless. Was this the glory promised to her when had she joined? A hand helped her up, Lakme looked up to meet the eyes of a knighted Dark Jedi. Kairus helped her up: “For the Grand Master! For the Consul!”, he said and went to help others. Lakme stared down at the remains of the dead Jedi before her, thinking: I don’t even know that Grand Master... nor the Consul...

Behind her a journeyman fired wildly from both of his blasters at the statues with a precision rarely seen. Lakme watched him - he flashed a grin at her, he blew over the muzzles of his blasters: “Holco, my name is Holco.” She stuttered: “L-Lakme...”

He fired of a volley, blasting the remains of a still moving statue apart: “New here, eh?”. She nodded. “Me too.”, he winked at her. Shirai shouted: “No time for talking! Get out of here!”, his sabers danced as he sliced a statue into several slices.

Lakme hurried with Holco and Kairus to the hole in the wall. They heard a scream behind them. Lakme turned around. She saw a young man running towards a War Banner that was hanging from a wall. He ripped it off - apparently to save it - but a statue hit him hard in his back. Shirai shouted: “Leave that Warbanner, Waldron!”

“No!”, Waldron shouted. Shirai snorted, running to aid Waldron in the fight against the statue. “You stubborn bastard.”, he growled. Waldron shook his head: “No warbanner shall be left behind!”. Finally the statue was defeated and both fought their way out. Only very few statues were left. Shirai crawled out of the hole, panting: “I was the last. No one else inside there... besides the dead.”

Waldron leaned on Lakme while a Neti healed his wounds. The Neti turned to him, nodding. “You were brave to help us, Shirai.” Shirai frowned: “If I had gotten here earlier..., Malik.”
Malik laid his rooty hand on Shirai’s shoulder gripping it gently, but he didn’t reply. The Neti turned to the wounded, offering his healing abilities. Shirai counted the wounded and the dead, kneading his lower lip with his teeth. If...

Marakith C&C
Aeotheran

The assassin pressed deep into the shadows. Everything had been very easy. Shkee nervously gripped her sabers. She was able to manipulate some of the battle droids, but some were deadly machines - even to her. She had to get to the commando room and retake controls.

This skyhook will not crash into Kel Rasha, she swore herself. It was luck she had stayed on the skyhook. Hidden in the service tunnels - involved in shady businesses. Her businesses that was about to get ruined. And she didn’t like it. She had been just about to get ahold of some ancient smuggled tomes and scrolls that would have increased her powers, but the skyhook was evacuated and now on a direct route to the city Kel Rasha.

Shkee typed on the small computer system on her wristband. She shook her head, not being able to connect to the Skyhook computer system. She slammed a fist into a wall to vent frustration. She eyed some bottles in the bar nearby. She aimed her blaster at the bottles. The alcohol dropped onto the floor, wasted and unused. The assassin narrowed her eyes, making her way to the commando room again. She tossed a lighted zippo onto the pool of alcohol, setting it on fire. This will hopefully distract them a bit.

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow, Storage Hall
Sepros
Orian System

Quaestor Kalia looked down at her metal encased feet. The metal of the floor had bent to Sildrin Sadow’s will, trapping her. Sildrin was sitting again on a crate. Kalia cursed, she had been barely able to use her saber at all. Always Sildrin Sadow was able to keep her on a distance, to distract her, to fool her with illusions and mind tricks. She could also toss her useless saber aside.
“You realised that your saber is barely any use, didn’t you?”, Sildrin’s melancholic voice said. Kalia stared at Sildrin, not replying.

For a moment Sildrin smiled faintly, a rare sight: “One day I realised that sabers and blasters turn pointless - as they can’t keep up with the advantages of the force.” Sildrin’s own sabers were lying on her lap, asleep. “A single illusion can do more than a weapon. Without even having laid hand upon your saber - a single illusion, repeated over and over can make one wish for death.”

Entrance to the Palace
Sepros
Orian System

“THEY ATTACK! THE ZOMBIES!”, someone screamed. Zombies? Lakme thought. The small group of Jedi reached the entrance of the palace, staring at the zombie-like creatures storming the Palace. Some of the creates were chewing on ripped off limbs of the fallen. A plumb woman with a boney finger crown on her head rallied the creatures to attack. Lakme used her training saber to stop a zombie - but realised that it was a mere humanoid creature - not undead. Ekind descendants.

The woman yelled: “We are the Undying! For the Dead!”. Holco aimed at her with his blasters, but one of the Ekind protected her with his body, he cried out: “Bone Woman....”, then he collapsed.

Kairus gripped tightly his saber, nodding to Shirai:
“Another fight.”

Waldron stepped close, the warbanner safely tied onto his back:
“Another day in glory.”

Shirai ignited his saber.
“In glory - for Naga Sadow.”

Roxas

26-06-2012 22:22:03

One floor below the detention level

The two experiments and their creator walked down the hall under flickering lights and with the smell of cigar smoke emanating from the Templar’s mouth. He agreed with Atra, in that he no longer wanted to be someone’s tool, but he wasn’t sure of the young Quaestor’s plans. Roxas still had his own ideas, but he had decided to wait and see how things go before making a move of his own. The floor began to rumble with the explosions from the battle below.

Macron giggled “Xanos and Trev must be having some fun downstairs.”

Roxas let out another puff as he spoke “Let me guess, we have to help them?”

Atra “We should go see Locke, so we can get a good grasp of everything that needs to be done.”

The Mandalorian thought for a moment before speaking with a few puffs of smoke escaping his mouth “Being the current Consul he would have more information than anyone else in the summit, and he would undoubtedly share some of it, if it would help to end the conflict.”

Macron’s mind raced as he tried to sort his feelings on what he should or would do, but continued with his experiments toward the Consul’s office.

“So Roxas, how does a hero to the people become a traitor?” Macron giggled in an attempt to pass the time as they walked.
The Templar reached the end of his cigar and tossed it to the floor, stepping on it to put it out.

“I have no idea what “hero” means. And it’s not easy to get a straight answer when I ask for the definition. There is no such word in my language and other than that I do understand the concept.”

“You can’t be serious” Atra said flatly “Come on.”

Macron laughed “That’s a Mandalorian for you.”

Atra, who was leading the group toward their destination, stopped suddenly and raised his hand to let the others know not to go any further.

“There is some large beast up ahead.” The Knight whispered to not alert the beast.

Roxas pulled the goggles from his head as he looked at the beast with a slight grin.

“It’s a boma…” The Mandalorian expressed “... Let me handle this, I need to blow off some steam anyway.”

He drew the stolen Adjudicator from the leather holster on his hip and leveled it at the creature. Roxas began to slowly approach the animal, but it charged. A couple of slugs flew from the barrel of the pistol and hit the boma, one shot to the shoulder the other to a hind haunch. The beast moved faster as it grew angry over the small wounds. The slugthrower quickly found it’s home in the leather of the holster as Roxas rolled to one side, his crimson red cape flapping as he moved. He pulled the lightsaber from his shoulder. It’s dim blue blade shimmering to life at the call of its master. The weapon’s blade slid through the front legs of the beast like a hot knife through butter. The animal roared in pain just before the lightsaber came back for another swipe, but this time cleaving the head. The blade went silent and Roxas reclamped it to the back of his shoulder.

Atra watching the Templar’s display of power in overtaking the beast made him wonder, Was it the man’s own strength or his modifications?

Xanos

27-06-2012 14:18:44

Inside Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

Bruk tukken brenzlit pratte, al'tanna Vong tchurokk!

Osira screamed.

The Chiss clawed at the demons in front of her, to both sides of her, behind her. The stretched and twisted faces of the Yuuzhan Vong butchers who had stolen her husband from her laughed back, their torn and bloodied black lips giggling in dark chokes of sadistic ecstasy.

Do-ro'ik vong pratte!

The monsters hoarse and throaty words filled her ears, pounding into her skull like they were knives.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Tears pooled down her cheeks as her red eyes pulled wide. “No... no... i... it can’t...”

Her breath caught in her throat as Kitris stood right before her, a warm smile across his blue face.

“My love, I—” The Saraii’s words were choked off as the serpentine head of an amphistaff burst through his chest.

“NO!” As she screamed, the serpent’s head thrashed in her direction, gnashing its teeth. She wanted to pull away, to run, shut her eyes, hide, but an invisible hand gripped her shoulders, fixing her in one spot, keeping her eyes held open. “NO! DON’T MAKE ME SEE THIS! NOT AGAIN! NOT AGAIN!”

Mon-mawl rrish hu camasami...

The disembodied Yuuzhan Vong heads swirled around her, their words mocking, faces laughing as the amphistaff continued to hiss, while the Chiss woman thrashed to and fro, struggling, spinning her neck left and right, back and forward, begging for the torture to end.

An aphonic chorus echoed inside her head.

“If your will is salvation from life’s sorrow, you need only choose...”

A dark ocean stretched out in front of her, far beyond the spectral heads. Blood dripped from the hole in Kitris’s chest, plopping onto the black surface of the water, vanishing into the infinite abyss. Her husband’s body began to drift away from her into the ocean void, disappearing under the—

“NO! DON’T TAKE HIM AWAY AGAIN!”

Instinctively, her body lurched forward on the spot, trying to grab him, reaching... but the hands on her shoulders merely gripped tighter, claws digging into her blue skin, drawing fresh red rivulets of blood. In the back of her mind, the voices whispered again, beckoning her to let go, find peace...

“In the Void, your Sorrows can all end...”

Osira sobbed, unable even to raise her hands to wipe her eyes. The vision of Kitris repeated itself in front of her, over and over, like an old record stuck on eternal loop.

My love, I... My love, I... My love, I...

“MAKE IT STOP! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”

The Saraii breathed out a breath she didn’t even realise she’d been holding in.

“I... I surrender,” the woman whimpered, barely recognising her own voice. “I... I just want it all to end. Please... please make it end... please.”

“If that is your Will...”

“JUST KILL ME!”

And with those three little words, fire erupted inside her chest, she felt the heat envelop her, light bursting from her mouth, her ears, her eyes, eclipsing her sight, the white hot flames crackling, consuming, until there was nothing but darkness... the end came... and finally she found peace.

The body of the Chiss woman collapsed, smoking as the last coils of lightning went out.

Xanos lowered his clawed fingers and looked up from the smoking body toward his Master, whose own silver-encrusted hand was currently punched through another one of the palace trooper’s midsections. Sanguine droplets dripped from Trevarus’s blood soaked clothes; the Essence of Shan Long may have been locked far away, but the spirit of the Dragon lived on.

The Falleen turned back down the now-empty hallway. He could feel Sildrin’s presence nearby.

Trevarus had sensed the same. “The end approaches, my apprentice,” the Oracle paused, the Mark on his forehead blazing violently with its hunger. The culmination of the battle neared. “The Ekind will hold those outside, but we must recover the phylactery before the Alchemist makes his move.”

The tuk’ata behind the two Elders growled and the group continued on up the palace corridor.

Macron Sadow

27-06-2012 20:18:06

Approaching Turbolift to Ground Level
Inside Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

“In some ways, Sith and Mandalorians share a common concept or two especially in rgerads to killing.” He grinned evilly at Roxas.“I certainly admire their unique weaponry and point of view. Oh by the way, I imagine the Skyhook will impact very soon,” quipped Macron as he nodded at Roxas’ efficient kill. The Mandalorian's skills had continued to grow.

“Impact?” asked Atra as he turned in surprise. “Surely you don’t mean Marakith?”
The Quaestor held up his hands in disbelief. “Tell me this is one of your insane attempts at humor. Those lost five years of my life were not appreciated.”

“That was not my decision. A higher power. Otherwise, it’s true about the Skyhook,” shrugged the madman. “Not my doing. Another of the Sadows had a personal point to make. It just so happens that crashing that skyhook is their idea if making a point. As it is made, so it can be unmade,” chuckled the Alchemist. “I learned after the Vong War that destruction can sometimes bring people together. It’s an interesting concept” He continued to walk as Atra looked coolly at Roxas.

Ahead of them, four elite Dlarit Special Operations Group security troopers protected the turbolift to the Halls where most of the Clan lay assembled. They bristled at the approach of the Dark Jedi. “State your identification and business,” snapped the duty officer. He knew damn well who all three of them were by description and reputation, but he remained composed and focused to his credit.

“Marshal Commander Macron Sadow, Executive Director Ventus, and Director Buurenar,” spoke the Shar Dakhan Quaestor calmy. “You will let us pass.” His hand moved a bit at his waist with the cloth wraps on his sleeveless arms moving with his gesture. and the guards nodded. This needed to go as smoothly as possible. The Corellian was reminded of his difficulties at the hands of CorSec agents by the banter.

“Pass,” replied the duty officer. The group entered the turbolift and ascended to the main levels.

Macron slowly took a highly customized lightsaber hilt off of his belt. It remained unlit as he flexed his other hand clad in a Mandalorian steel crushgaunt known as the Armor Fist. “Locke,” he whispered quietly. “Reckoning Day is upon you, my friend.”

Tron

27-06-2012 22:28:41

Sepros Forest

The land speeders shuttered through the tight nit forest, while creatures lurked about and watched them pass by. Anything dumb enough to not venture out of the path of the armored vehicles was crushed or sent flying at an odd angle, ending up in the brush as the next meal for whatever carnivores found it first.

Along with his two DACs and a squad of IG-100 MagnaGuards, Astronicus brought along his pet Tuk'ata Kren as well. It wasn't meant to be an assault team, an honor guard or even a security detail... just merely insurance. Plans were set in motion, sleeper agents awoken, and a grand revelation for Clan Naga Sadow was at hand.

Swerving here and there as Captain Cresh piloted the craft through the wooded terrain. Kren held his head out, snapping at the wind every now and then. The IG-100s followed behind the Overlord's speeder, lieutenant Dorn piloting it. As the two craft made their way to Sadow Palace the Lord of Sadow made contact with individual sleeper agents, instructing each one as to what they were to do.

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

The man known as Verrick Hess strode towards his fellow clansmen that were congregating together after the events in the Grand Hall. A Dark Jedi Knight who had been with the clan since after the war with the Vong, he was well acquainted with the layout of the Palace, but kept to himself and was not well known amongst the members.

Up until a few hours ago he was your typical Krath bookworm who studied in the library and practiced in the courtyard, waiting for the opportunity to prove himself to both his leaders and his inner-self. But a few hours ago something happened. He awoke as if from a dream and was no longer that nerdy little bookworm but was now Adar Ballath, a deadly assassin trained by Lord Sadow in the ways of the Dark Side.

And only until a minute or two ago, he had no idea what his assignment was, except that it meant doing the will of his master. When Astronicus had finally contacted him telepathically and instructed him what to do and told him who his fellow agents were, then he had a purpose beyond standing guard. Now he and the others would see to it that Lord Sadow would not be disappointed.

Shirai

28-06-2012 22:50:42

Sepros, Orian system
Outside the Palace

Two Dark Jedi Knights, a Krath Priest, and two troopers left from the original guard that Shirai had left when he went back to save the Jedi trapped in the Great Hall. This was what they had left to stop the onslaught of Ekind that tried so desperately to descend upon them. The whole lot of them were martyr's for a cause unworthy of dying for, yet they still ran forward just a crazed as ever edging for their blood.

Had Shirai not quickly created a Force meld between Waldon, Karius, and himself. They would have been overran within the few minutes they got there. They were all tired. Waldon and Karius more so because they were fighting for their lives against the evil machinations and sorcery that so closely almost took their lives. Shirai's physical reserves were edging to be pushed to the limits. He was not the seasoned warrior he once was, after so many debilitating injuries he had taken in the last couple of hours it was definitely soon before he fell.

But he would not give up so easily. The Yuuzhan Vong were a much fiercer foe then these misguided fools. They would not fall. "Karius and Waldon get behind me." For sometime the sly Dupar Jedi had been concentrating on building another platform of Force Power next to the Force Meld he held with his comrades. Though well versed in the Force it still would take sometime to use the devastating Force power he learned from the Naga Sadow clan. There seemed to be no end to the Ekind and the creatures that accompanied them, but Karius held her own, fighting backwards around Shirai so that they did lose any ground around them, Waldon to mimicked the same action killing anything that dared try to flank them with such ferocity it made Shirai proud that he actually wore that Warbanner around his back. This prompted Shirai like no other to do what he had been planning to do, but much more terrifying.

Making sure that all of his comrades were indeed behind him, and he slew two more oncoming Ekind, there was a small break period as more oncoming Ekind were charging to replace their fallen. But with that short time of a few seconds, was just what the Krath Priest needed. Lightsaber in hand still, he once again threw his hands out, this time towards the the Undead followers, yelling in the process, "To hell with you!"

What sounded like a concussive blast, noise erupted around them as Shirai released a massive Force Blast in front of him. The air itself seemed to ripple as the fabric of matter moved in order to allow the Force to do his bidding. The blast was so broad that it picked up most of the Ekind and creatures that were in front of the palace and threw them back with such Force that more than half of them flew back a few yards, damaged with broken bones and blunt Force trauma. Shirai's knee hit the ground as fatigue threatened overtake him. He let the Force ease his mind, and the pain throbs from his body. The Force Meld drawing on the power of himself and the two Dark Knights, had had given him the necessary strength to much more than he could. He just needed enough time to heal himself and his comrades. That blast bought them sometime as the troopers kept as many as they from getting back up ny putting blaster fire straight to their head. They would survive this onslaught together. The Force told me so. As Shirai struggled to get up, slowly regaining some physical strength and Force Healing the others at the same time.

Locke

28-06-2012 23:02:39

Consul’s Office
Inside Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

Locke studied the console at his desk. Having recently attained full control of the Temple’s systems again, he manipulated the console, flipping through security cameras. Finally, he brought up a map of the entire facility, showing different indicators for friend, foe, and unidentified. Elsewhere in the Temple, a dedicated team would was locked away in a room somewhere, constantly updating the indicators according to what they would find on the camera feeds. Most of the blips were identified now, though a few in quiet places were not identified yet.

Though the Grand Hall had been secured, there was still fighting in various places inside the Temple. The group that had occupied the Grand Hall was fanning out now, neutralizing the automated statues and pop-out turrets that made up the rest of the palace defenses. Strangely, even with control restored, many of them continued to fight back, as if a glitch in programming had stuck them in a loop.

Outside, what had now been identified as tribesmen of some sort were attacking. Someone would have to clean that up. Mentally holding himself back from micromanaging the forces of Sadow, Locke accepted that someone else would take care of it and focused on other issues at hand.

The mysterious entity that had assisted him earlier was nowhere to be found. It didn’t answer any commands, nor could the system detect any anomaly.

Teu sat at the conference table directly in front of Locke’s desk, lightsaber rolling along her fingers. She had arrived in the Consul’s office just before they had regained full control of the system. “Where are they?” the bored-sounding Exarch asked.

There was no need for Locke to question who “they” referred to. No sooner had they regained control of the system than had Teu asked Locke to check on Roxas, and they had found his cell empty. A little searching later, and they had found him in the company of Macron and Atra. That was confusing to Locke. His mind raced with the possibilities. He had tracked their movements and knew they were coming toward his office. He would deal with Macron first and then worry about what was in Atra’s mind. Perhaps Macron had tricked him into thinking the Warlord wanted peace. Well, maybe he did, but Locke surmised he would have a lot of work ahead of him if that peace wasn’t going to involve his head on a pike somewhere.

He swallowed and sighed, just a hint of sweat glistening on the Consul’s forehead. “Almost here, still just the three of them.”

Locke switched screens for a moment, checking on the status of two teams he had ordered into the fray earlier. Gold and Gamma teams were Dlarit Special Ops; Locke hoped the two teams would be able to distract or pin down the threat Kalia was facing long enough for her to overcome or stage an effective retreat. They were almost to the small side corridor Kalia’s blip was in, along with the one of Sildrin Sadow. That was another traitor that would have to be dealt with, but Macron first.

Changing the screen back to the general map of the facility, Locke’s pulse quickened. “They’re right outside, stick to the plan.”

“Right, “ Teu answered, standing up and moving back into the shadows beside the doorway. “I still think this is a bad idea.”

Locke came around the desk, the Priest’s own lightsaber still clipped at his belt. He would not draw the weapon before Macron drew his. It was an imperative part of the plan. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I have to face him alone.” In truth, Locke knew Teu would interfere. If nothing else, she would try to save him before necessary, or disagree with Locke’s approach, and then he would have more distrust to deal with. This was a dangerous game he played. Any piece put in the wrong place could doom Locke and the Clan itself.

Grumbling, Teu fell silent, as Locke pressed a button on his datapad and the door hissed open to reveal Macron standing in front of it, lightsaber in hand.

At the sight of Locke he ignited his lightsaber and dashed forward, far too quickly for someone wearing so much armor. “There you are you traitorous coward!” the Mad Alchemist growled, surprisingly less mad-sounding than usual.

Backpedaling immediately, Locke’s own sunfire blade flashed into existence as he deflected Macron’s first strike. The Consul had just enough time to see Teu taking advantage of her expertise in Teras Kasi and other martial arts to quickly force Roxas and Atra into the hallway, the door closing behind them.

Now it was just Locke and Macron. The Sith’s blade crashed against Locke’s in a brute force attack, but as the Krath stepped back, Macron pivoted his blade and stabbed it toward Locke’s stomach in a strike far more in line with the practices of Makashi. Pivoting his own blade, the Priest blocked just in time, still finding himself forced back. Despite using the same form, Macron had years of experience with it that Locke simply could not keep up with.

“I have nothing against you, “ Locke said quickly, desperately ducking another swipe. “I’m not your enemy.”

“Trying to worm your way out of your fate, boy?” Macron giggled. “Should have thought of that when you betrayed me!” As if to add a punchline to his words, Macron’s blade sweeped at Locke’s legs. The Consul somersaulted backward, feet almost grazing the ceiling. As they touched the ground, Macron lowered his lightsaber and leaned forward, howling in pure fury. The sonic wave hit Locke like a wall of nausea, causing him to stumble back, holding a hand to his head. Macron took full advantage of the Krath’s distraction, closing the distance between them, slamming his shoulder hard into Locke’s chest.

The Consul fell back against one of the chairs next to the conference table in front of his desk, clutching at the table to steady himself as the chair clattered over to the side. He held his lightsaber up, angled toward Macron in a defensive posture, barely steady. “I did what I had to for the good of the Clan!” Locke said, speaking quickly as Macron stalked toward him. “I had to fight you. I had to quell the heresy.”

“Blasphemy!” Macron roared. “The only heresy here is yours!” he finished with a shout, the fallen chair suddenly hurling toward Locke. He cut it in two, but Macron was right behind it, pressing his blade against Locke’s.

“There were elements plotting against you. I know it sounds crazy!” Locke spoke hurriedly now, through gritted teeth. “I had to fight you to secure their allegiance. Trust me, join me, and the Clan will be stronger because of it. I need you, I need your knowledge and I need your power! I can hold us together, trust me!” Desperately, Locke held his ground, waiting for a response from the former Consul.

Macron Sadow

30-06-2012 11:28:57

Consul’s Office
Inside Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

Macron looked deep into Locke’s eyes with his own bloody yellow ones and spoke. “To be Consul means to be strong. If you aren’t the Clan will suffer from your pathetic weakness.” Outside shouts and voices could be heard as Teu, Atra, and Roxas confronted each other.

The Warlord overbore Locke and shoved the Makashi saber lock forward, unbalancing the Quaestor. A knee rose with the power of the Force behind it and pistoned hard into Locke’s side. As Sonjie staggered back, Macron shut off his saber blade, dropped to one knee and reverse-punched Locke hard in the lower gut with the unlit weapon and a Kiai shout. This was immediately followed by a rising-wing Dulon elbow smash to the bottom of Locke’s now-open gasping jaw as the madman leapt upwards from his crouch. Locke fell backwards stunned with a rattling groan and a little of his lunch on his lips. He crashed with a loud crunch of wood across the remains of the furniture he had earlier destroyed with his blade.

The Alchemist clipped his own lightsaber to his belt and flexed his Armor Fist as he regarded his gasping comrade with a giggle. “I’m not done with you by a damn sight,” he chuckled. “I’m going to beat some sense into you. You don’t have the strength to lead this Clan. You’ll either live through this- or die as a weakling. Now get up.”

To his credit Locke rose slowly with a wince. He was not nearly foolish enough to relinquish his lightsaber as the madman had. “I’m not giving up. I will never-give-up.” He began to channel the Force to his aid, and the Dark Side responded. “Bring it on, madman. I WILL lead this Clan.” His hands steadied on the hilt of his sunfire blade as he leveled it at his foe and centered himself. This was a test of will and strength and he would succeed.

Xanos

30-06-2012 15:12:37

Inside Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop...

Hardened pellets careened down the narrow corridor from the palace defence team’s slugthrowers. Crsssh. Jiran’s ears popped as white light filled the far end of the corridor again, eclipsing the squad’s targets. The Snivvian lowered his arm a moment, shaking his shatter rifle as if trying to clear the magnetic rail’s barrel, albeit he knew full well the action wasn’t going to do anything.

“Why aren’t these things getting through?!” Jiran snarled, quickly glancing around him and seeing that the rest of Group Beta was having the exact same problems. Their new gear from the Dlarit Corporation’s contacts in the Verpine had been supposed to be a way to deal with Foxtrot Uniforms!

That’s what Protocol F-Upsilon Omega was for!

Jiran swore and raised is rifle again. “And what the kriff happened to Imperator Malik?”

The Falleen at the other end of the corridor staggered a little, tripping over the large black paw of one of the tuk’ata that fought by his side. In front of the intruder, another of Jiran’s squad mates lifted their own gun to their head and.... “NO!” Jiran screamed in rage, shutting his eyes and firing more rounds down the hallway at the two intruders.

The trooper to Jiran’s left fell to the ground. “FLECHETTES! TAKE COVER!”

For a split second before he ducked, Jiran saw the cloud of small, metal-edged blades that one of the other members of Group Beta must have just fired, now being launched straight back toward their source. The Snivvian winced as he heard the impact somewhere behind him.

“You’ll pay for that!” Jiran jumped back to his feet, and resumed firing. They needed an opening. Firing on the Sadows alone wasn’t working. “Where the kriff are our reinforcements from Gold?”

--

With one hand on the wall to steady himself, Xanos held out his other, deflecting the slug pellets as the palace defence team continued to shoot at him and his Master. The Dark Prophet let out a long breath. His power was strong, but it was not infinite, and the pressure of the ritual in the forgotten catacombs beneath the palace had weighed heavily on him.

More lightning crackled from the amulet covering his Master’s hand as Trevarus pushed further down the corridor. “The end is not far, my apprentice,” Trevarus said, “I feel Illuna nearby.”

--

Heavy footsteps rumbled on the floor back down the corridor behind Jiran. In his helmet’s HUD, he glanced at the rear display, seeing the team of blue-armoured marines Beta had been waiting for.

“It’s about time you got here!” the Snivvian shouted. “Direct Phoenyx requested backup ages ago!”

In the corner of his vision, Jiran could just make out the purple sparks on the tips of the woman who he assumed must have been Group Gold’s squad leader’s electrostaff. The Snivvian turned back to the carnage down the hall, frowning slightly. Electrostaff? Why hadn’t his team been issued those?

“Nice staff,” Jiran snorted, part sarcasm, part respect. He didn’t know any of the palace defence team’s had been given close quarters combat training. The Snivvian shook his head and laughed. “Now how about you get down that corridor and kill those two warlock freaks?!”

The woman just stood there.

After a brief pause, Gold Leader looked down at Jiran. “You might want to duck again.” She gestured down the corridor, where Jiran briefly saw the sorcerers had reflected another round of flechettes.

The Snivvian ducked for cover again. But the woman didn’t move.

“GET DOWN!” Jiran shouted, confused. The woman chuckled as the flechettes sliced through another member of Beta who was standing right beside her. Jiran’s eyes went wide. “What the...?”

Before he could finish the sentence, everything went dark as he felt an electric jolt strike his back.

--

The troopers at the end of the corridor were taken completely by surprise when what appeared to be their reinforcements turned their weapons on their own comrades. In the space of a heartbeat, the lives of the Dlarit soldiers were all snuffed out in unison, and a cry went out through the Force.

Trevarus Caerick smirked and lowered his hand, blood still dripping from his silvered fingertips.

“Ave, mea Bellatoris,” the sorcerer said before he strode calmly toward the new troopers. “I trust everything is prepared.”

The female trooper up front stepped forward and her armour’s surface shimmered, flickering like the surface of a computer monitor. A second later, her blue armour dissolved, revealing the polished obsidian surface of one of Trevarus’s own guards. “A shuttle is waiting for your extraction, my lord,” Illuna Mao said, nodding. “Lady Sadow is up the corridor ahead. She... is presently engaged.”

Xanos stepped next to Trevarus, the Falleen’s hand involuntarily clenching again as he leant against the wall for support. Ignoring his apprentice’s frailty, Trevarus kept his face fixed on Illuna. “Very good, Sergeant Mao.”

They had returned to the Orian system for one purpose, and one purpose alone. They now had what they needed. The coup against the Alchemist had been an unfortunate interference, and one the Oracle should have foreseen earlier. What now came of Macron’s struggle was of no importance; the Apostates had fulfilled their end of the bargain, by providing the deposed consul with the back door into the palace. All that mattered now was to leave before the dust had time to settle.

It was little surprise that Antei and Lord Ashen had not gotten involved in the conflict. The Final Way would be served regardless of the outcome. Sword and Shield would clash once more either way.

Trevarus simply felt it was a shame that it had taken all this to remind people where true power lie.

Energy crackled around the end of Illuna’s electrostaff. “My lord, Captain Zara had reported the ship’s sensors detecting movement in the forest. Not Ekind.”

Trevarus closed his eyes and reached out. A familiar presence burned in the Force. “Astronicus...”

Illuna did not reply, waiting for her master’s next orders. In front of her, Xanos wheezed heavily.

Trevarus’s eyes opened again. “Retrieve Sildrin, and then rendezvous with Xanos and I.”

Illuna nodded, keying the control on her wrist gauntlet for her shadow hologram on again. Her armour flickered for a second before being replaced with the navy blue markings of a Dlarit marine again. “It will be done, my lord.” She bowed her head before leaving. “Ave Domini.”

Locke

30-06-2012 17:24:41

Consul’s Office
Inside Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System

Some men didn't understand logic, or chose to live their life by a different creed. Some men chose sheer strength and force of will as their standard. Now Locke realized that Macron was one of those men. If he wanted a fight, he'd get one. Locke didn't have to win, he just had to survive until the Sith deemed him worthy.

Rather than wait for another attack, Locke went on the offensive himself this time. If Macron chose strength as the terms of this engagement, Locke would fight that battle. He staggered forward, tightening his grip before focusing on Macron's shoulder to direct an angled stab. In his peripheral, Locke caught Macron's fist coming at the Krath's face again. Locke side-stepped, raised his free hand, and braced himself, grunting as arm met fist. Putting the strength of the Force behind it, Locke shoved back with with a wordless battle cry.

Whether Locke had succeeded or not, Macron chuckled, drawing his fist back and aiming his other gauntleted hand at the Consul's chest. Realizing the intent was for Locke to stumble forward onto the blade, the Priest lowered his sword arm to knock Macron’s fist away, the room suddenly silent save for the sounds of their movement as the sunfire blade briefly winked out of existence. The move was only a partial success, however, as Macron’s fist still solidly impacted Locke’s shoulder.

For the moment they were too close together for the Consul to ignite his lightsaber. Locke pushed up his right hand, gritted his teeth, and focused the Force in front of it, emitting an almost point-blank Force Blast at the mad Sith. Macron seemed surprised for once as he stumbled back a bit, spitting at the floor. “Clever boy. Resourceful!”

Grinning, the Warlord seemed to be enjoying this as he brought his armored fist forward again toward Locke’s stomach. The Krath quickly lowered his lightsaber to block, the blade flashing into existence in the path of the fist. When the two collided, Locke expected Macron to draw his injured hand back, but instead gauntlet met blade and pushed it back, sparks briefly flashing where the two met.

The Sith pushed until Locke was thrown off-balance, but instead of stumbling he this time turned that momentum into a spin, blade fanning like a solar flare as it came around toward Macron’s side. The Warlord sidestepped, blocking with his other arm, but not before the blade sliced through part of the armor. As Locke followed his blade and danced into an aggressive position, he wasn’t sure if he’d actually pierced skin or if the Mad Alchemist would even give any indication of being hurt.

Locke grinned. He was doing it. He’d pass this kriffin’ test, if that was what it was. “Come on, what’s next?” He taunted. The Consul knew he couldn’t do this much longer, but he had to appear strong. He would not make excuses, nor appear weak.

Sildrin

30-06-2012 19:20:36

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow, Storage Hall
Sepros
Orian System

The tattoo on her left shoulders began to glow, anger surged within Kalia - and the rage manifested into a raw force blast. It shattered the metal grip around her feet, continuing its path of destruction towards the threat - Sildrin Sadow. The crate she had been sitting on bursted apart and her illusion shattered.
Another trick. Another illusion.

Suddenly arms wrapped gently around her, fatigue washed over Kalia. Every bit of her strength felt being sapped away and she couldn’t even move an inch. She felt Sildrin’s fingers gently slide over her cheek, hearing her melancholic voice in her ear: “Such a beauty... it is a pity to see it fade ....” Finally Kalia summoned every bit of strength that was left within her; unleashing her rage she made Sildrin slam into a crate nearby. “Finally you use the weapon that makes you superior - the force.”

Suddenly the door was ripped open, heavy steps of troopers announced the arrival of the Gamma reinforcements. “Hands up!”, Leader K’aop shouted. Relief washed over Kalia.

Sildrin slowly rose to her feet, her hands at her sabers. Probably calculating her chances, probing the trooper’s mental defences and checking their weapons and armory. The Blind Dragon faintly smiled and slowly lifted her arms, leaving her sabers at her hips. “I guess you got me this time, Quastor.”
“Arrest her and take her away to the cells.” Kalia said with icy voice - as icy as her eyes. Leader K’aop replied to her: “Yes Lady Kalia....La..... what the....”, the trooper halted in his movement, staring at Kalia. The troopers rushed past him towards Sildrin. Sildrin felt her hands secured on her back by the troopers. A faint smile still on her face.

Kalia frowned, wondering why K’aop stared at her with wide opened mouth. She raised her hands, looking at them. She stared, not believing her eyes as she saw the wrinkled skin on them. “What....”, she started. The skin started to flake. Everything inside of Kalia began to shriek from horror, her knees went weak as also something golden fell slowly to the ground. She reached up with a hand at her hair, suddenly pulling out strands of gold. Her eyes bulged, not wanting to believe what she saw. She looked at Sildrin who had a wicked smile on her face, whispering: “What.. did you do?... What...?”, one of her teeth fell out onto the floor. She started to scream: “Drug her! Take her away! Take that witch away!!”

In the jungle - outside the Palace
Sepros
Orian System

Malik’s gaze turned absent-minded. He heard a voice. Could it be? His loyalty had been always true - unfaltering. Yes. He would obey. For a moment he watched Shirai and his companions and he knew they would stand their ground.
Like in a dream his feet carried him to the place where he was needed more - on command of the Overlord.

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow, Storage Hall
Sepros
Orian System

Sildrin winced as a neural disruptor collar was attached around her slender neck. Blasters were pushed hard into her back as the troopers pushed her out of the storage hall. The troopers made haste to leave the place, not wanting to further watch the decay of the Quaestor. Sildrin sensed how K’aop shortly watched how Kalia dropped down onto her knees, whimpering, crying, pulling out further strands of her hair. Her skin flaked, wrinkled, rotted away from her face and hands.
Sildrin whispered quietly: “A single illusion can make one wish for death...”
They left Kalia and the storage hall behind.

Her head was yanked back by her red hair. K’aop hissed into her ear “Bitch....”, and she felt something cold against her neck, the brief pain of an injection.
Memories returned to Sildrin, memories about a similar situation not long ago washed over her. Of countless days of torment. With slight despair in her voice she whispered: “No... don’t.... don’t...please“. And her force sight and connection to the force faded. Would there soon be again a world of searing pain? Again the endless pain? Again the questions?

Back inside the storage hall - Kalia trembled, and once more she opened her eyes, praying that this nightmare would end, that her life may end. Her eyes looked at flawless porcelain skin. She blinked in confusion. The woman reached up, touching golden hair strands that ran down in cascades to the small of her back. “An.. illusion...”, she whispered. She couldn’t stop staring at her hands, feeling her face as she sat on the floor of the storage hall.

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow, Corridor
Sepros
Orian System

K’aop strode down the corridor with firm steps. He smiled to himself. All the training hadn’t been worthless. He was proud of his team that had been able to restrain a Pontifex effectively. Though he still let his men check Sildrin’s condition constantly. He didn’t want to end like Quaestor Kalia. Rotting to death.
His eyes gleamed with pride as Commando Gold appeared. “Look at that. Aren’t we a bit late, Gold?” He grinned broadly. “We won this time. We got her first.” He pointed backwards at the disabled Sildrin. “I guess it is now your turn - for the next whole week - to clean the latri....” - he was never able to finish his sentence as the electrostaff hit him.

Sergeant Mao watched how her men easily overwhelmed and disabled Team Gamma. Mao knelt next to Sildrin who had sunken to the ground with halfly closed eyes. “Drugged.” Mao muttered, removing quickly the neural disruptor collar. “We have to hurry.” Mao nodded to a trooper: “You will carry her. We will retreat and rendezvous with Lord Caerick and the Lord Prophet.”

Illuna grinned slightly as they hurried down the corridors. Their disguise was perfect. Their ‘prisoner’ Sildrin Sadow, the shadow hologram imitating the Dlarit markings and armor.

Sadow Palace, Courtyard
Sepros
Orian System

Trevarus and Xanos waited for Sergeant Mao to arrive. Trevarus smiled: “Good job. I didn’t expect anything else from you, mea Bellatoris.”
Sergeant Mao raised shortly her electrostaff as a greeting and bowed. “Lord Caerick, ... the Lady Dragon ...” The Oracle turned to Sildrin, frowning. He laid his silver-encrusted hand on her forehead, hearing a weak telepathic reply. She still hadn’t freed herself from the grip of the drug.
“I will deal with that on our way to my Corvette the Sanguinus.” Trevarus said.
They made their way towards the shuttle.

A voice behind them made them stop. “Leaving us so early, magician?” Malik stepped out of the shadows, followed by Adar Ballath and a couple of more Sleepers.

Tron

01-07-2012 12:56:48

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
Orian System

The landspeeder crashed through whatever Ekind were still standing and halted at the main entrance to Sadow Palace. The transport with the IG-100 MagnaGuards stopped behind it and the droids disembarked, dispensing any survivors with their electrostaves. The Self-Motivating Heuristically Programmed Combat Droids finished with the Ekind and looked at the Dark Jedi standing idly by. These warriors of Sadow had fought bravely and now had no idea who are what they faced in these MagnaGuards. Before they could utter threats, questions or a single syllable, Lord Sadow exited his vehicle with his pet Tuk'ata beside him.

Not wearing his regular robes, the Sith Master was still recognizable as the Overlord of the clan. It had been sometime since he had last stepped into Sadow Palace, his studies and research had kept him away for a lengthy period -- but now was the time to return to his home. Without saying a word he walked forward towards the entrance, flanked by his DAC troopers and droids. He stopped momentarily, sensing the presence of his fallen Sons.

"Time is nigh my friends, make haste to the courtyard. All loyal servants of Sadow follow me." Spoke the Lord of Sadow as he began walking again, this time with an even more important purpose and determination in his step.

"M'lord," queried a follower from behind, "what is going on? Why is all this chaos breaking out?"

"All will be revealed soon child," answered Astronicus, "all will be revealed soon."

Sadow Palace, Courtyard
Sepros
Orian System

Delay them. The voice said in Malik's head. He knew whom it was that commanded him as well as what to do. He and his compatriots were overwhelmed by the power of the Prophet and Master, but would fulfill the command to the best of their abilities. Drawing on the power of the Dark Side he stepped forward out of the darkness, his fellows following suit. He had to keep them here until Astronicus arrived. “Leaving us so early, magician?”

Shirai

02-07-2012 14:41:32

Outside the Temple of Sorrow
Sepros

There were no gods in Shirai's eyes. How could there be? When he was faithful to his last clan, they did nothing more than shun him away after all he did what he could for them. But to be rewarded by nothing, that was how his life had acted upon ever since reaching the Equite ranks. It had been punishment after punishment after unknown evil acts that he had yet to commit. Yet he was still subjugated to. Such as the Overlord himself parking and beginning his way to the entrance. Where he, Waldon, and Karius had only been fending off the Ekind kamikaze attack.

Why must they test me so... Thought Shirai as he faced the impossible odds in front of him. Would he die? There was a 98% chance that he would, the only two percent relying on mercy alone. The Krath Preist had caught the eye of Warlord Malik, there was some sort of click that he did not understand when he connected eye contact with him, he did not know what it meant, but he knew it did not bode well.

He looked to the two Dark Jedi Knights beside him. He just saved them from what seemed an inevitable death, only to lead them to a more certain death. He knew his time must come eventually but he would not spend it quivering in the wake of the Demi-gods that approached the entrance he had been protecting since he left his Pronconsul's presence.

Shirai would probably never get to see Teu again, shame, he found her very interesting, maybe his Force prowess would be strong enough to leave behind a Force Ghost. He could only hope for such high dreams, as he reached yet again into his Force pool to thwart the oncoming Elders and the Forces they lead.

He stepped in front of the advancing forces after they stepped over the mangled dead bodies of the Ekind. "Halt Overlord Tron. You know not of me, but I know of you and your mission. Which so far has seen nothing but treachery and treason. Though we may die today, we would not die without a fight. The Elders may look at us like insects, because in fact, we are just that to you. But what insects lack in strength, they surely make up for in quantity. Persistence knows know bound when it comes to those who remain loyal to the face of death itself for their clan. For glory, and for Naga Sadow!"

He did not want to subjugate the two Knights to certain death himself, but when they so happen to be on the same battlefield as the vanguard of death that stood before them now, they had no choice, for they would never run away. Karius stood vigilant, as did the Waldron, clutching the Warbanner ever so tightly, as if it would give him the strength to oppose the nightmares that walked towards them. If only...

He thought no more as they power he drawed upon yet again from the Force Meld. He thrusted his arms upwards and reached deep within himself to the reserve power he had been keeping just in case for situations like this, where all hope was lost for his life and those around him. Using his own strength and the Force power lent to him by his comrades, he Forced his will upon the decoration pillars surrounding the entrance, and broke it apart. This would at least slow down the opposing the force...he hoped...

Sildrin

02-07-2012 19:41:03

Sadow Palace, Temple of Sorrow, Courtyard
Sepros
Orian System

Sergeant Mao stepped between the Sleepers and her Lord she wished to protect, her electrostaff readied. Adar tensed - the Neti Malik next to him stood quietly, slightly moving his upper body from side to side like a tree in the wind - his eyes halfly closed. The Sleepers felt like a child - staring into the eyes of a beast that could kill them with the wink of an eye. Nothing could be further than that.

Silence fell over the courtyard, only the faint cries of the battlefield in the background were heard. A lifetime seemed to pass, but then Lord Trevarus raised his hand slowly. “Sergeant Mao,...” his voice was calm, filled with arrogance. “...please retreat into the shuttle with the other troopers.”
Illuna didn’t hesitate for a moment, immediately obeying her Lord’s command. She never questioned his commands or his motives.

Adar frowned; some of the Sleepers getting more and more jittery.
Xanos’s tattoo on his forehead shortly glowed: "I will leave, my Master. This conflict is over." Trevarus nodded slowly. “Yes, my Apprentice. The conflict is over.”
Adar and Malik stood in confusion, looking in their direction. What is going on? Adar gripped his saber, uncertain whether to attack or not. Xanos did not deign to look at them as he walked to Sildrin Sadow who was leaning on a trooper. With one hand placed in her hair, he tilted her face up at him. With the tip of his clawed finger of his other hand he touched her at her forehead - a nudge of the force and her ability to detoxify the drug was accelerated. He turned away, boarding the shuttle, taking all their troopers with him.

Malik said: “We.. can’t let him go!” The palace cannons began to fire at the shuttle, but the beams were deflected by Xanos’s silvery force shield, hitting pointlessly the walls of the palace. Adar’s hand twitched and he ignited saber, but immediately the saber was ripped by invisible hands from his hands, finding its home in Trevarus’s hand. The blade was deignited and dropped by him to the ground. The shuttle left the palace behind.
“HALT!” The Overlord’s voice boomed in the courtyard.

Astronicus Sadow strode into the courtyard, followed by the combat droids - among them Shirai, Waldron, Kairus and other clansmen. They shaped a half circle before Trevarus Caerick and Sildrin Sadow, the weapons aimed at them.
Tron made a step forward: “Trevarus Caerick.” The Overlord’s Tuk’ata sat down next to him, snarling. Tron’s voice was showing his determination. “I see my Children at war with each other - and I am not surprised to see my Fallen Sons at the center of all this. It will end here and now. The Grand Master may have exonerated you and the Lord Prophet for your crimes, but you will stand trial before the Sons of Sadow.”

For a moment grief touched Tron’s face. “And you, my Daughter,... it pains me to see you at the side of this Apostate. Are you now one of them?” Sildrin opened her mouth to answer, but Trevarus motioned her to keep silent. “Oh Lord Sadow, how wrong you do us. It was us that saved your Clan from destroying itself.”

Astronicus Sadow scowled: “Stop mocking me, Sorcerer. The jokes will end here. All the dead people … you even dared to get close to Remul...”
Trevarus started to laugh, interrupting Tron: “We even helped them to safety. As for the dead... “, he looked at some of the dead Ekind, shrugging. “But for the dead clansmen... we weep. It was never our intention to see them killed. Only stopped and hindered. But your clan members were too weak to protect them. And you - Father of the Clan? Where was your protecting hand? Sometimes I wonder why you are still the Overlord of this clan - being so short sighted.”

Shirai grabbed for his saber, rage rose within him - would this be his last battle? He hoped people will think of him long enough to make a memory. But Tron lightly moved his head to him. The Overlord scowled, his patience clearly growing thin, rage seethed within him. Sildrin stepped a bit forward, saying with a quiet and pleading voice: “Please Tron. There is a reason for all this. Let him speak.”

The Overlord breathed in and then nodded: “If not for her... go on, Caerick.”
The Apostate sighed gently: “I guess I have to explain to you then - you who is not gifted with such prophetic abilities as mine.” He grabbed for a cigar from his pocket. “We brought Macron here as it was the only way to save the Clan. He asked us for help, but the future was already set before he did. I have foreseen it.” Tron waved impatiently with a hand: “Get to the point.”
Trevarus lightly rolled his eyes: “During your absence - while you should have guided the clan like a real father - the Clan was about to destroy itself by the conflict between Macron and Locke Sonjie - Sons versus Children. It was their destiny to meet each other - here and now. They will realise that they have to end their fight and stand united... to learn from each other and aid the clan with their knowledge.” Trevarus slowly walked forward, accenting his steps with each of his words: “Or chaos and destruction will be the fate of Naga Sadow.”

He was face to face to Tron. His blue eyes gleamed. “This is why we have brought Macron here - to solve the conflict and unite the clan. This is why the Grand Master had saved Macron from Locke’s hand. If he had not done that... Macron could have never faced Sonjie here in this event. Sons and Children would never unite to rebuild Naga Sadow. And Naga Sadow would have been doomed.”

Astronicus stared into Trevarus’s eyes. Trev whispered quietly, yet everyone clinged to his lips: “And this is why the Grand Master did not stop us. So Clan Naga Sadow can prevail.”
The Oracle puffed his cigar with an arrogant smile on his face: “And now - do you wish us to prolong the fight? To tear people further apart? Or will the Father unify his Children?” He let out a blue cloud of smoke. “The war must end.”

Malisane

04-07-2012 07:54:00

C&C
Marakith
Aeotheran

Malisane frowned. "There's still fifteen minutes until the computer system comes back on line. Until then we're blind."
Janos nodded. "What do you want to do?"
The Battlelord frowned. "I don't want anyone getting to anywhere the security system can't see. I also want to know who is down there. If it is the Summit I'm happy for the system to hack them up, if it's junior members we can just scare them off. There is no point in wasting anyone useful to the Clan's future.”
The Archpriest nodded. "Tiddles can handle things here. Let's take a look."
“Your senses are better than mine Janos, guide us.”

Level 14
Marakith Skyhook.

Malisane and Janos made their way cautiously along the corridor, the Krath guiding them with his senses. "They're close," he reported.
Malisane nodded. He drew his saber. "Remember, no journeymen casualties if it can be avoided."
"I hear you," Janos replied.
They took a breath then Malisane hit the door release. The doors slid open to reveal a wide area, one of the auxiliary hangars. Crates of unopened supplies delivered the morning before the lockdown sat neatly waiting to be opened and unpacked. A couple of lifter platforms rested on the ground near the wall, ready to be used to ship the heavy supplies along the corridors. A couple of deactivated maintenance droids stood passively in one corner, their link from the mainframe temporarily severed. There were also seven figures in charcoal robes stood in a line and looking at the two Sadows passively.
“Who the hell are you?” Malisane demanded. He recognised none of them.
“They’re not our members,” Janos pointed out under his breath.
The central figure was shorter than the others. It studied the two Sadows curiously from beneath the heavy grey cowl. “Useless,” a woman’s voice judged, “too old, too set in their ways.”
“I said who the hell are you?” Malisane repeated, raising his saber and his finger hovering over the activation button. The six figures flanking the woman also raised their hands, sleeves drawing back to reveal their own saber’s. They waited for a command, and beside him Malisane felt Janos tense, ready to move.
Malisane felt the woman’s senses probing and searching. “This place is empty except for these two. Kill them.”

Eight lightsabers snapped into life as the six figures moved forward. Malisane tensed as a force attack struck him, dissipating it around him as he struck out with his saber, one of the figures catching it and pushing it down. He felt Janos striking back with the force, and concentrated on his martial and saber skills. He was badly outnumbered, and whoever the figures were they were good. He felt himself be pushed backwards, on the defensive now as he backed off towards the doors, trying to keep them from flanking himself and Janos. The enemy fought in unision, working perfectly together and complementing each other, their moves clearly rehearsed and co-ordinated. From behind them he saw the still cowled woman studying him. He felt her manipulate the force and the doors behind the two Sadows slammed shut, trapping them.

“Halt!” she ordered. Immediately the six other figures stopped and backed off a few feet. Malisane and Janos studied them, unsure about the break in combat. The woman stepped forward, and drew her cowl back revealing elderly but calm features and grey hair. “You fight well, but you will be defeated.”
“So why the delay?” Janos demanded.
“Perhaps you would be useful, with the proper conditioning I would hate to go back empty handed,” she mused studying Janos curiously. She turned to Malisane, “But not you, reject.”
Malisane was taken aback. “Reject?” he repeated, “what do you mean?”
She laughed. “Fool. He was right. You really have no idea do you?”
“Of what?”
She laughed, “Kill him, disable the other one.” The six figures raised their sabers again. Malisane pushed her words aside, raising his own weapon and preparing to die. Suddenly the datapad on his wrist began to beep. Nine pairs of eyes focused on it for a second then a slight smile touched the Battlelord’s lips. “Down!”

Two of the figures dropped immediately as multiple laser blasts hit them as Malisane and Janos threw themselves to the floor. The woman backed off, pushing the blasts away from herself as the remaining four spread out behind cover, sabers deflecting laserfire. Malisane and Janos leapt to their feet, turning and sensing the woman’s attention drawn away quickly opened the doors, sprinting through and Malisane slammed his palm on the lock button.
“Who the hell are those guys?” Janos demanded.
“No idea,” Malisane replied gasping, “all I know is we’re getting out of here, we’re too badly outmatched.”
“She knew you,” Janos pointed out as they began to run up the corridor.
“It’s a mystery.” Malisane said. The sound of laser fire behind them ended, a sign the enemy had somehow destroyed or disabled the security system. As they ran down the corridor there was an explosion as the doors behind them crashed open. “Faster!” he shouted. Behind them they continued to hear laser fire and explosions as the woman and her followers battled their way through. “Tiddles,” he said into his communicator, ”track our position, we need an escape route.”
“The second corridor on your left Master,” the droid replied neutrally.
At the end of the second corridor they found an escape pod. As of yet they had never been used, they’d never needed to be. “We can’t just abandon Marakith,” Janos gasped.
“We’re not, “ Malisane replied as he shoved the Archpriest inside the pod, “it’s no use to them. They can’t evade the defence system forever.” He closed the door, seeing the woman striding towards them with her followers behind, a force bubble of some kind blocking the laser fire. He hit the button and the pod blasted out into the open air.
One of the four sighed. “They show more caution than I expected Master.”
“They do indeed Karianne,” the woman replied, “it is of no matter. We have failed out primary mission, for some reason only those two were onboard. We will succeed in the second, if that slicing programme we paid the Underworld for is worth the credits. Upload it to the nearest terminal, and shut down the auto defences. And hurry I want to be away from this system before the alarm is raised.”
“Yes Master.”

Malisane watched from the viewport as the escape pod moved away from the Skyhook under it’s own power, heading back to Seng Karash. Janos watched the immense structure of Marakith. “It’s slowing.”
Malisane frowned. “What is Tiddles doing?”
“I don’t think it’s Tiddles,” the Archpriest replied. They watched a few seconds longer, then Malisane’s jaw dropped as below the skyhook the six hundred metre long spike detached and sliced down through the air to crash into the waves. “What are they doing?” Janos asked.
“Impossible,” Malisane cursed, “they can’t have.” He watched helplessly as the remaining disc of the skyhook he’d built and designed began to rise and accelerate, gaining speed as it gained altitude, heading up into the atmosphere. Malisane wrenched the communicator from the pods wall and thumbed it. “This is Battlelord Malisane Sadow to any Dlarit personnel. This is a grade one emergency, please respond!”
“I think it’s too late,” Janos replied, also reaching the same conclusion.

VSD II Orian Legacy
Aeotheran Orbit.
Orian System

“What is our repair status?” Captain Lamir asked. She was still smarting from the attack by the Skyhook and the order not to engage.
“Shields are restored to eighty percent,” her first officer replied, “we still have damage to engines and weapon systems but we have basic functionality.”
She nodded. “Good. Any news on support ships?”
“Not yet Maam, the fleet is being kept close to Sepros and Tarthos. We are ordered to maintain position.”
“Typical.”
One of the bridge crew turned. “Captain we have a fresh contact moving in sector six.”
“What now? On screen.”
The screen illuminated to show the atmosphere of the planet Aeotheran, and focused into to show a large disc moving upwards into open space. “Is that the Marakith skyhook?” her first officer asked in confusion.
“Obviously,” she snapped back.
“But it can’t leave the atmosphere,” the confused officer pointed out.
“Why don’t you tell it that?”
“Captain we are receiving interception orders,” the lieutenant at the communications terminal informed her, “we are to attack and disable the skyhook, or destroy if nessesary.”
“About time, “ Lamir said in satisfaction, “plot intercept course and target weapons. It can’t out maneuver us here.”
“It doesn’t need to Captain, look!” her first officer pointed out. The skyhook on screen began to shudder for a few seconds, then it blipped out of view as it entered hyperspace.
Captain Lamir scowled, “Track it’s course.”
“We can’t get a lock Captain,” one of the crew told her quickly, “it has some sort of evasion system.”
She looked from the officer to the screen. “Someone is going to get in trouble over this.”