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Darth Tanit

Imperial Kaar
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464 Vergence of the Force

About Darth Tanit

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  1. For the Discerning Killer

    Tanit noted that she and the Mandalorian shared a deep scar across the throat. He was a survivor or he was lucky. Regardless, she approached close enough without really saying anything for the first few moments. She looked at the forge, the sword, and the man that apparently owned it. It was what she expected. A small manufacturing group, which typically meant slower production for higher quality. "I am." Tanit said, her own voice about as hoarse. She paused for a moment, considering a few things. "My name is, Chen Karnok..." She said, offering her birth name over her Sith name. It had been many years since she was addressed as such, but it was perhaps the safest way to introduce herself in the galaxy as it was now. "Karnok Arms PLC. Your forge looks like it is put to good use if that one blade is anything to go on. Function and form. I can appreciate the craftsmanship of a good blade." Tanit drew her own sword to hold it up in the light. The single-edged blade was a pristine specimen. Concave near the hilt and convex near the point. It was a classic design meant to distribute the weight of the weapon with the momentum of an axe while possessing the length of a sword. The hilt was undecorated, simple and functional. The sidearm, on the other hand, was high quality but a very new weapon on the market. "More to the point, though, I would like to commission a weapon, a rifle. I have certain specifications for what I would like the design to entail, and cost is of no concern. I imagine we can come to some kind of arrangement?" Tanit offered, dangling what was usually an enticing prospect. She could pay most any cost. What she wanted was flawless functionality, which itself did not have a true price.
  2. For the Discerning Killer

    Mandalore was not a planet that Darth Tanit had visited before, but in these uncertain times for the Sith and for herself necessity dictated that she attempt to reach out to the proud warrior people in some capacity. There were certain risks that were associated with traveling outside of the safe space in which the Sith now hid, however, it was unlikely that the Republic or the Jedi would be present on the planet considering the long and storied history the Mandalorian people had with fighting both groups. She herself had some measure of history with them, at least some of their less honorable members long ago, but the woman that experienced those things was no more. Since then she had become so much more powerful, and in that time she had recreated herself in the Dark Side. There was no more of the weaknesses of the past, no chains which bound her to those petty fears and nagging doubts that once plagued her. Tanit had become a leader of military personnel, and a killer, and a woman like her had no time to dedicate any thought to what she had been at one point in time. Keldabe was a large city, comparable in some ways to Coronet City on her own home planet, Corellia. People went about their business as she disembarked from the transport which had ferried her through Nar Shaddaa. She took some precautions to keep herself from being traced back to Dathomir or Ziost, if only because to her the best way to minimize risk was to take several paths. In spite of the roundabout trip she was in relatively good spirits. The semitropical environment of Dathomir did not agree with her. This planet, she agreed with climate and had tremendous respect for a people that lived the lives those in the Mandalorian culture lived. She even appreciated the reasonable welcome she had received on the street, with people acknowledging her but not going out of their way to speak to her or anything like that. That was where it ended as far as she was concerned. While she could relate to the warrior culture, the differences between it and the Sith Order were enough to make it obvious that she was an outsider. Fortunately, it was not readily obvious as to where she had come from. She did not wear her armor, nor did she carry her lightsaber. Today she was dressed much like someone who could be called a spacer as she had for the previous couple of days. She carried one of her company's own SR-181 revolvers, and the only item of consequence that could mark her as a Sith, her sword. She knew though that it was only What Tanit had come to Mandalore for was to appraise competition in the arms manufacturing market. With Karnok Arms PLC taking its place in the small batch manufacturing game it only felt natural. As she wandered through Keldabe her attention was called away from a food vendor to a poster on the wall behind him. Waiting in line to eat something local was not something she had ever really done, but under cover of an assumed identity she felt like she could at least in some way enjoy herself. Cuyot Arms-For the Discerning Killer... By the time Tanit made her way through Keldabe, she had learned that while the city itself was fine she prefered Coronet City. It might have been her bias, but Corellia was always home to her. The speeder pilot she hired to take her to Cuyot Arms was thankfully silent. That was how she preferred it. Small talk was not her forte, and with the things on her mind she did not really feel like breaking the monotony of public transit trying to find some kind of common ground with the pilot. Even the end of transaction was simple and to the point; payment for services rendered and nothing more. She was dropped off, and he left. Tanit watched the speeder leave for a few moments. She was on her own for getting back to Keldabe it seemed. So be it. Tanit turned toward the buildings, and found that it was indeed a forge. The man outside was working on a blade. That was a weapon she could truly appreciate. Even in her spacer disguise she was someone who looked like a warrior. The scars and physical shape she was in gave that away. Tanit approached the forge and the man, "So this is Cuyot Arms?" she asked, looking around the place more so than she looked at the figure working with the sword.
  3. Down From the Glen Came the Marching Men

    Tanit walked beyond Carnifex toward the source of the fear she too felt in the Force. These people knew nothing of fear, nothing of loss and pain, not yet. What they feared before paled in comparison to the destruction she could sow on this world. They were all on the cusp of realization, of understanding what it meant to truly feel fear and loss. She drank that in, relished in their pain and terror, and found them wanting still. Tanit channeled the Force and threw flaming wreckage aside, clearing her path while also tossing the burning shards of wood through their streets. "Carnifex, you speak their language." She called out, her voice metallic through the vocorder. "Kindly inform them that their power has been shattered, and that what was theirs is now mine. Those that obey my will are to be rewarded for their loyalty. But, if they choose to attempt to resist our will, or attempt to overthrow us in any way, they will be enslaved and die in bondage without honor." No sooner did Tanit issue that order to her second-in-command did one of the warriors answer the fight-or-flight reflex with fight. As he drew his axe she too drew it, through his hands and to her own. That ended his will to fight and in a fitting display he bowed to her without any hesitation. She looked at Carnifex, "What is the word your people have for someone who attempts to destroy you, then cowers at your power? Tell him that is what he is..." She said while walking toward him with his axe in her hand. Tanit planted her sword in the ground next to him and stared at the fearful lot before looking down directly at the man who had even though it a good idea to try and fight at this point. The spirits of his bretheren were broken, and now he condemned himself to die as the final display. Every ounce of rage and pain in her body came down in the heavy hammer swing that brought the axe down into the back of the man's head. While he died from that blow alone, she delivered a dozen more while pusling with pure unadulterated hatred. "This hold is mine! You will obey me or you will be put to use where treachery is no threat! This village will be rebuilt as a true fortress, and you will be safe under my protection, if you remain obedient and loyal to my command. I will tolerate absolutely no in-fighting. You will all be united toward the same goal, or you will be put to use as slaves for people who remain true to my cause. Am I understood?" She said as loudly as she could, trusting that Carnifex would relate the message to them in the most fitting way.
  4. Sign In/ Out

    Gonna try to do the thing now.
  5. Sign In/ Out

    Gotta take a couple days for myself. Hit a block and I don't want to force anything out that's less than what I'm happy with.
  6. HPOR--SF

    One of the issues that doesn't seem to have been addressed is the matter of effective range on this weapon. The Charric itself is not meant to be a long or even medium range weapon. In the scope of things that can fire at distance, the Charric pistol only had an effective range of eight meters; less than ten yards, or roughly twenty-five feet. That is not exactly a medium range environment when taking into consideration that the people who would consider themselves fighting men could hit just about anybody at twenty-five feet regardless of the weapon. Purpose built or not it would likely never achieve medium range without being upsized to the point that the weapons bulk itself would make it a heavy weapon rather than a rifle. The other issue seems to be the reason for creation. If you want a powerful and accurate weapon good against most targets what is wrong with the vast quantities of weapons that fulfill the exact role you have specified for it? Heavy repeaters certainly create problems for any Force user because of the volume of fire; slugthrowers and even scatterguns are probably the MOST effective thing against a Force user with a lightsaber because of the nature of the projectile and how the lightsaber itself interacts with the solid shot rather than the blaster bolt. Sonic weapons fit that as well, considering being hit by one typically caused the entirety of the internal organ system to rupture violently. These weapons would all do exactly the same thing that this one would do, kinetic impact or otherwise, so I am not really seeing a reason to have something like a prototype reverse-engineered Charric weapon when these weapons do the job at a considerably cheaper cost. Another matter would be the economics of the weapon. Black market or otherwise, reverse engineering and manufacture of such a thing would be so prohibitively expensive that nobody would be able to afford the end product. Even for a company such as BlasTech or Merr-Sonn it would be feasible but so fiscally irresponsible that the branch would be shut down for risking that much of their capital on something that may or may not work, to produce a weapon that could not possibly move enough units to make up for the cost. There would be no logical reason for a company, large or otherwise, to make something that would not give them a greater return-on-investment when they could continue to produce the things they already produce at cost. Without a reason for a company to undertake such a monumental financial risk there would have to be some kind of promised return-on-investment that would compensate them for said risk.
  7. Down From the Glen Came the Marching Men

    This world suited Tanit. By the sound of things as Carnifex had described them the world was ruled by a law very much in tune with the manner in which the Sith viewed the galaxy. Might was right, and those who lost the confidence of their followers did not remain leaders for long. There was a simple elegance to it that she could appreciate, even if they were primitive and isolated from the rest of the galaxy. In some small way that made the place ever more ideal to the purposes which they had designed for this planet. The Republic still had a nasty habit of checking up on most worlds, but those in the Outer Rim with very little to nothing on offer seemed to fall through the cracks. To her, it seemed membership with the Republic was strictly based on what economic properties a planet had, and what it could offer, and little else. That kind of thinking is what made Tanit hate them. Money seemed to dominate policy within the Republic and with it came all the evils of a currency based government. No greater good could ever persist through unfettered greed. To think they had eliminted the Empire based on the ideological differences of governance more than anything. It left a very sour feeling in her stomach every time she considered it at length, and only gave her further purpose to rebuild the Remnant that it might someday avenge the wounds inflicted upon it. This planet, was just a stepping stone, but an important one. The gunships that her company had retrofitted with heavier armor and larger weapons were not graceful, nor were they particularly pretty to look at. Heavy black plating, weapons meant to rain fire and death, and crewed by those dedicated enough to remain in service to the Sith. What more could she ask for? The pilots had a learning curve to associate with the vessel, considering its penchant for drifting through turns, but it was a true weapon above anything else that the Empire had deployed prior to its destruction. Tanit stood in the gunner's window, behind the crewman on the heavy cannon, and watched the cold world make way for a village beneath. Carnifex had landed, and rather impressively attempted diplomacy. The Sith were not mindless monsters that would destroy without purpose, and were perfectly capable of extending friendship to those in exchange for submission and service. Those with strength had the right to dominate the weak, and those who were weak and did not know their place were often taught that lesson through pain and destruction though. Tanit had not expected the diplomatic approach to work, but to not attempt it at all would have been wasted potential. Carnifex had much hatred within him, much anger, and it showed in the way he attempted to utterly dominate those who opposed him. She had taken the same approach, when her body was healthier, but now had to consider the options before her in the wake of the Dark Side and old wounds taking their toll on her physicality. The village below looked small, even once the gunships had gotten within range. As the gunner opened fire, the wake of destruction gave way to a smile beneath her breathing mask. Their fear, their pain, she could feel them with every single groundshaking impact. She left the gunnery window and to the pilot ordered, "Bring me down. Patrol the edges of the village while we deal with this." And the ship lowered until she could reasonably leap from the window and onto the ground. The burning wreckage of the blown out hall and bodies therein created a sort of smoky repulsiveness that permeated the area. Tanit walked calmly, her size quite a contrast to how massive Carnifex when next to her. The heavy furred mantle held back the cold, but the dark red armor beneath showed. It was nowhere near as heavy as she once wore, as she had opted for lighter and more maneuverable protection more recently, but it still would do against the swords and spears of these primitive people. They had broken though, at least for the moment, and in their fear she found clarity. This was what power felt like, what dominance felt like, and it had been quite some time since she had felt it. The satisfaction was minimal though, as these people could not feasibly put up a fight against Carnifex or herself without losing more warriors than any leader would have been happy to sacrifice. Darth Tanit could still feel fear throughout the area though, ripe and repulsive all at once. It was weakness that she could easily see crushed, but to scorch the village from the face of the planet would have done them no good. Amidst the fire and debris of bodies and wood, Tanit called out to Carnifex through the metallic filter of her mask, "They will bend their knees, or we will take what we want of them. Their village, I have designs for these poeple. We subdue them, rather than destroy them. Once we do that we can appraise the people that remain to submit to us. Understood? Kill nobody unless you absolutely must. We have already done enough damage for now, it is a waste to burn them from the planet without at least forcing their obedience." She said, drawing her sword and leveling a low slash into the spinal column of a wounded man crawling away. It ended his feeble retreat, and left him there in the fire to contemplate his brief existence before she telekinetically lifted and dropped his body atop the pyre they had created. There was but one thing remaining to seal this message of blood and fire though, and that was to allow the tribes around them to hear of it. Tanit opened the radio to the gunships, "Do not shoot any messengers or people fleeing the village. They will spread out among the nearby towns and sow fear where they tell their story. This should convince the rest of these petty Kings and Queens to kneel to the Sith." She ordered, her voice laced with venomous joy. "Carnifex, your apprentice. If you think she is ready, send her to one of the nearby villages to secure their obedience. She is under no circumstance to kill anyone unless they pose a direct threat to her life. I want as many of these people alive as possible." Tanit commanded through her mask, having wandered the burned out crater they had created enough for her liking. While Carnifex and his student could do much of the groundwork in subduing villages, she had other plans that she would not yet reveal to any but those she trusted with her life. For now, only Darth Verrin held that type of trust, but Carnifex could easily earn it through more successes and loyalty. She had not felt any hint of deception from him yet, but his apprentice was ne, and she could not trust as far as these people could throw their spears.
  8. The Melancholy of Survival

    Tanit felt comforted, at least in part. The point made of the tremendous cost the Dark Side exacted on those that drew on its power. She had experienced the sublime strength the Force afforded her, and now experienced the tolls. Her body was still powerful, but the suffering she went through in order to just breathe was the first sign that her connection to the Dark Side had grown to the point that it demanded of her something in return. Tanit put her hand on the hand on her shoulder and pulled it up to squeeze it in solidarity, "There are plenty of Jedi that wander the galaxy my friend, many alone. They are the Jedi that we would most likely be able to capture successfully, but to be unnoticed would be the trick. The easiest method to avoid being tracked back to Dathomir would be to perform the necessary rituals and create the weapon away from this world. You of all people would know of planets that possess a more virulent connection to the Dark Side, worlds that could shield us away from the Jedi while we torture and crush the life out of one of their own." She offered, unfamiliar with many of the more esoteric worlds within the galaxy. Certainly she could point out the most important ones, and the ones with previous strategic value to an Empire, but to point out worlds specifically connected to the Dark Side would have been more difficult. The only one she knew of that held a nexus of energy in the Dark Side in particular was Nogatan, where she had gotten her start, but it was overrun by mindless abominations created by an artificial plague that reached the population. "You have more experience in creation than I, though. The principles and understandings of Alchemy I know, but I have never put them into practice. What I desire is to create a weapon that would tear the spirits of the Jedi asunder, and draw them to the Dark Side in death. What I want is a weapon not just to kill, but to utterly dominate and crush the spirits of those that dare challenge me. The Jedi must know fear and pain, and know it intimately before they die. I want them to feel the way those who failed to evacuate Dromund Kaas felt when the Limitless crashed down upon them. They must feel the fear and anguish of those they killed over Bastion, knowing that their ship was going to rupture completely and jettison them into space. Those millions that died at the hands of the Republic and the Jedi...the Jedi should pay for every single life they took in their pursuit of mindless ideological ignorance. If I were to have my way, their suffering would be legendary even in Hell." She said, quite spirited in her repeated expression for revenge. It seemed Tanit was hung up solely on destroying those who had done her wrong. When the Jedi destroyed her fleet, it was a defining moment, a clarion call to bring her ever closer to the Dark Side and embrace its power to the fullest extent. In doing so she suffered constant physical torments, pains from old wounds flared, and her lungs deteriorated beyond the simple wounding they had received. The power of the Dark Side kept her above the pain, numbed her to its effects and spurred her on in her quest. Now that she had found the time to set aside for it, Tanit could create the weapon she felt she deserved. Tanit paused though, and looked to her former master, "This weapon, though, I want it to enhance my power, to make it more easy for me to call upon the Dark Side. For a weapon to sap my strength would be counter-productive, but if it meant that I could destroy the Jedi Order for their transgressions..." She said, pausing for a moment's consideration, "If it meant that I could make the Jedi pay for everything they have done to our kind then I would wield the weapon until there were no more Jedi to slay. Peace is a lie, and I want to ensure that peace remains a lie, even in their deaths."
  9. The Melancholy of Survival

    Such a moment of closeness was almost unheard of among the Sith. Tanit appreciated it, remembering the time when they had been far closer than even this. If there was one thing she had learned throughout her time as a Sith it was the value of an ally she could trust. Darth Verrin had most certainly been the closest ally she possessed, having been the one that trained her in the Dark Side. They had helped one another secure positions in the old Dark Council, and in spite of the more recent time away that military command demanded she still valued his input and experience. There was a smile on her face now, faint, and hidden by the mask, but it was there however briefly it stayed. It was small comfort in a galaxy that had been cruel to her for all of her adult life, but a comfort it was and one she did not realize she needed in the moment. Tanit sat up and looked at the dagger in her former master's hand. She was familiar with it, at least having seen it several times before. It was never used, at least not when she had been around had he used it, but there was an aura of malevolent power that seemed to negate the Light around it. It was a powerful alchemical weapon, created not by his hand but by his own former master. She had heard quite a few stories about Drackonis in her time, how he was a powerful Sith who had placed an emphasis on self-reliant pursuit of knowledge and power. That one should specialize rather than broaden their goals. He was insightful from the sound of things, but she had never met him. Her only interaction with the long gone Lord of the Temple was to benefit from the knowledge he passed on to Darth Verrin. It was a direct link, and to her showed how elegant the chain of masters and apprentices could be when it came to the gift of knowledge. Even as she pushed her body to the brink for physical power, she never neglected her connection to the Dark Side and it showed. The quiet moment came to an end when he agreed to assist her on the condition that she repay the favor. Tanit was familiar with the cost of the Dark Side, and the cost that compounded with the creation of pieces touched permanently by the Dark Side. "Since Dromund Kaas and the Empire fell I possess very little in the way of material exchange, but that is not fair compensation for such time and energy. There is very little that I have anymore but time, so I offer you something that I offer nobody else. Whatever you would have me do in exchange for this joint effort, I will do without question. Consider it a blank check from someone that considers both the value of the Dark Side and the value of our alliance to be of equal measure." she said rather freely, though not particularly loudly. If there were observers, however unlikely that may be, she did not want them getting the wrong idea that she was a pushover that would do anything for anyone. These students though, they did not know her nor did they know much of her. "The process of creation will take some time, I understand, but the most important thing to me would be to acquire sufficient sacrifices to be made to the Dark Side for permanently binding its power to a weapon. While I am certain we could sacrifice hundreds of slaves in the moment, nothing could feed more unfiltered hatred and anger into the Force than if we used a number of Jedi to achieve this cost. The stronger, the better. How about it friend, do you want to join me on a hunting trip and relive some of our better years together?" Tanit offered again, something the imagined to be tempting to someone who had been previously trained in the art of assassination and subtlety. It was her hope that these two offerings made together would be enough to entice him into assisting with such an in-depth application of the Force. Of course he was free to refuse, and she would not feel slighted if he chose to either, knowing that Alchemy carried with it a heavy toll that he was in no way obligated to pay along with her.
  10. That lovely College Experience...

    Tanit need only take one swipe to realize she'd had quite enough of this man trying to act like he was some kind of warrior. His unmeasured tactless approach to being fueled by anger and hatred would have seen him killed by anyone else, but Tanit knew well enough not to waste potential in the Sith. A flare in the Force and Tanit released her grip and used her free hand to push the man across the room with the intent to knock him out against a wall. The smaller Sith looked at the wild man she had thrown and then to her former master, "Animals, the both of them." She said through labored breathing. It was clear that she was struggling in some way that she had not prior, but she was mum on why or how. "To think he wants to control the Dark Side to create Sith swords when he can barely control himself. He personally insults me and expects to be able to get away with this kind of behavior. I will break him, and one way or another I will turn that wild anger into a focused warrior. He showed potential in spite of his lack of discipline, do you agree?" she said, looking back to the boy. "If he wants to learn how to make Sith blades then I will teach him, certainly, but he has to prove that he is capable of basic control. That will, more accurately, give me the time necessary to learn the secrets of Sith Alchemy. He's fortunate that his interests align with mine..." She finished, calling her own sword to her hand and returning it to the sheathe where it belonged. Tanit looked back to her former master, "I trust you have such knowledge in this Library that I might access, correct?"
  11. The Melancholy of Survival

    Tanit peered over her shoulder at her former master's approach. His tone was loose, as if he was in high spirits today and had chosen to grace her with his apparent good fortune. She could appreciate that he came to see her, at least. Beneath the mask she smiled, only for a moment, and the hollow metallic sound of short laughter ended fairly quickly after. "I really look as if I am in the kind of shape to be on a dance floor, right?" She said, lowering her hood and showing how firmly planted she had become in the Dark Side. Her already white complexion had paled further, her eyes were sunken and outlined with what looked like bruising, and the mask was in full view framed by long white hair. It was an odd look for her, but she had not yet lost the vitality with which she lived. The look and the power her body still possessed seemed almost at odds with one another. "I came to the pit to watch the coming of the future, friend. To witness the new generation before they rise to the point to challenge us for the right to leadership." She answered, "The student I just tested was raw, and arrogant. I saw myself in them as I used to be, in more ways than one. If she does not tame her overconfidence she will end up dead as I should have been. There is too much at stake for the Sith now to allow hubris to go unchecked among the students..." Tanit finished, taking a seat on the bench to the far right of the room. With her forearms on her elbows and her hands between her knees she looked more like a defeated athlete than someone who had modeled their life after being a Sith warrior. She looked up, "I have spent much time with myself of late, contemplating my life and how it had come to this point. Are you aware that I have but one military victory of note in my record? The Invasion of Balmorra I cannot consider a win, some of our units ended up with casualties so high that there was no way it felt like a victory. I challenged Darth Wrayd and nearly died, only to be saved by some mercenary who stole my one chance to claim something of value. Dromund Kaas, I had to retreat from the Republic and rendezvous at Bastion. Then Bastion, I attempted to push back the Republic only to be ordered to retreat. I watched my men and women die from my evacuation shuttle. I felt them all die, and it was my responsibility to keep them alive as best as I could. Now look at me, broken both physically and mentally. Do I even deserve to be labelled Darth Tanit at this point?" Her voice wavering deeply with the internalized loathing she felt for herself. She knew she was a failure, her record alone proved that. There was nothing of substance, nothing of value in the past that she had succeeded in completing in her own right. The only thing she had done was win a battle over Raxus Prime and that was not even a solo effort. Even now that victory was moot now that the Empire had crumbled under the Republic's attack. In essence, she had nothing, and was nothing, and recognized it in herself now more than ever. It all flowed through her and rippled in waves through the Force in spite of her calm veneer, "My lungs barely process oxygen anymore, to answer your question. I have to wear this to concentrate it to the point that I can actually functionally breathe. Unfortunately, the Dark Side is not adept in healing wounds of this nature, or any substantial nature." she calmly answered. There was no calm to her though, it showed in the Force if not on her face. It was tremendous pain, physical and emotional, and it radiated through the Dark Side. "But I did not come here to ruminate on my failures or physical infirmity, I came here to request your assistance on a matter that may take some time to fulfill. I have learned the secrets of Sith Alchemy in my time sequestered away since the fall of the Empire. While we could discuss that matter at length, what I really want of you is for you to participate in the creation of a sword with me. This suffering, this pain and anger, I can think of no better purpose than to forge it into a weapon that I can use to strike down the Jedi or Republic if ever I meet them again. They walked away from their war like they were justified, as if they could get away with killing millions of OUR people. I want revenge, I want them to suffer. I will not be satisfied until the Jedi and the Republic burn before me, and I want a weapon worthy of such a goal." Tanit's voice rang metallic in tone and hateful in spirit. She seethed with some of the most pure loathing she had ever felt. The Republic crushed what little hope she had at rebuilding herself as a military leader. The hatred she felt and anger that coursed through her gave her the most clarity and drive she had in years. She had one goal, and that was to destroy as many Jedi as she could in her life. In spite of all this hatred and anger, the most telling thing about Tanit now was how they were both no matter the intensity underpinned by an immense sadness that showed more than anything else in her otherwise expressionless face.
  12. Helona 4th, 3630 BBY The Dathomir Academy Tanit had become more reclusive during the aftermath of the war against the Republic. There were very few contacts that she had within the Empire that had survived to see the Sith Remnant start the process of rebuidling itself on Dathomir, and fewer still that had returned to answer the call of the Sith'ari. Even in her self-imposed duty to the Remnant she had found no joy in her work ever since the retreat from Bastion. The images of her fleet being destroyed piecemeal had been etched into her memory, and every night had become an exercise in fitful sleep. Tanit burned with sorrowful anger at all the lives so needlessly lost. She felt their deaths in an instant with each vessel the Republic crushed under its brutality, and each instance compounded with the other. That feeling had not left her, and she felt since then that she was directly responsible for their deaths regardless of the circumstances. If the nature of the Dark Side was to provide impetus for change, then it certainly had changed Tanit for the worse. Military command had been nothing but fruitless failure without even the barest hint at silver linings. She had been given a position within the Empire as the Kaar of Military Offense and now she questioned if that was for the best. The works of Emperor Valyrian had come to dust, and she sat within the fallout as the latest entry to the Dark Council. Had she ever truly deserve the seat, or was she a appointed simply for lack of names? That question haunted her in tandem along with her memories of her twin failures over Balmorra and Bastion. If she were to never lead another military force again, she could be content wth that notion. Tanit felt broken by those experiences, and it showed to any that were familiar with her prior to the Dathomir Academy's foundation. Gone was the overconfident sneer, hidden by the mask and tubes of a breathing apparatus she all but required now. The way she carried herself had become more subdued, more meek. Failure had a way of crushing the spirit, and constant failure over a long course of time could do even greater damage. Her heavy armor had been replaced by only the necessities. A breatplate to protect her vital organs, and little else. The armor of a warrior did not suit her, nor did she deserve to call herself a great warrior anymore. Every challenge she had faced since becoming a Sith Lord had only spared her death for reasons beyond her. Perhaps it was good fortune that kept her alive, but it certainly did not feel like she was favored in any way. Even the shock of red hair that she had been so proud of had been stripped of her, going white well before its time and giving her an almost ghostly appearance to match her sallowed appearance. The only thing that she had left of herself from the Empire was the muscle she used to build herself up, and even then it felt like very little. It was the Academy on Nogatan where she had gotten her start, where she had first learned she was even capable of being trained as a Sith. Those times were ushered away quickly by the fires of another war, one in which she made a very real and distinct impact. The return of the Rakata had been ended due in part to her killing Predor Kar'it, but it was not by the force of her arm. It had been quite some time since she had used a firearm of any kind. In the time after the Empire she had founded a publically traded arms manufacturing company under her old birth name. Karnok PLC drew much of her time in the early days following Bastion. She had reestablished contact quickly having answered her former master @Darth Verrin's call to follow to this world, but spent time acquiring and gutting a small Corellian company to turn it to her own ends. They had successfully launched their own weapon, the SR-181, a powerful slugthrower revolver that was capable of penetrating some armors and personal shielding. It was big, flashy, and the last remnant of the boisterous personality Tanit once possessed. She even collaborated with Rendili Stardrive. The financial windfall was little satisfaction though. Commercial success held very little charm after one could claim to command the Dark Side of the Force. Perhaps it was that sense of nostalgia that brought Darth Tanit to the Academy on this day then. She knew her presence would not go unnoticed by her former master, but these new students had no clue who she was or what she had done. Her failures had not been spread throughout the population of newly indoctrinated hopefuls looking to claim the power of the Dark Side. The Sith'ari had changed things and it seemed to be for the better as she stood observing one of the martial training pits. Two students battled one another with training blades in what looked like clumsy Form I. She remembered those days, when she was just learning how to use a lightsaber. She must have looked just as bad. Tanit looked nothing like she used to, but the one thing that those who had known her prior that could have identified her was the heavy furred mantle and cloak across her broad shoulders. Her hood was up though, concealing the upper portion of her face. One student landed a vicious blow, and the other went down limp. The defeat was rather blunt and quick. Tanit walked along the side of the small arena style pit and watched as slaves moved to drag the body away while the victorious combatant received some kind of backhanded praise from the Overseer in charge. She did not announce her visit, rather she wanted to just watch those who had their lives ahead of them and how they behaved. It was almost innocent to see these hopefuls look so eagerly to the mystery of the future. The certainty yet uncertainty of it all. Each of them had to believe they would become the most powerful, but they were so far beneath even the Overseers that to imagine one challenging @Darth Atrox was laughable to her. They would grow, they would become members of the Remnant or die trying, and then they would be lost in the rest of the field that struggled for any upward mobility. She had allowed that entire mentality of advancement to consume her once before and she had been placed well before her time as a Sith Lord. Tanit had suffered for her premature advancement and since then had tempered her own expectations of herself. The Dark Side offered its power more quickly than the Light did the Jedi, but it was still not instant gratification. She chalked it up to youthful foolishness rather than blatant stupidity, but the line between those two was so often blurred that she could only come to the conclusion that she had advanced just as she should have. Her failures were punishment from the Force for attempting to dig too deeply for too much without being prepared for the consequences. She paced around the arena still until she stepped down the makeshift stairs into the pit proper. The young woman that had won the duel reminded her of herself. Arrogant, confident, and headstrong. She was right to celebrate her victory, but her overconfidence would be her undoing just as it had been for Tanit. Her Overseer turned to Tanit and did not immediately recognize her, but dropped to one knee quickly upon seeing the mask and hair. The student soon followed, but Tanit motioned for them to rise. "Please, spare me." she said quite calmly. The tinny filter to her own voice still sounded foreign to her, but she could only remove the mask for so long before breathing became an unpleasant struggle. "Yes, my Lord." The Overseer replied, her own voice slightly cowed by Darth Tanit's presence. It was a rare public appearance and her reputation for violence had not seemed to disappear overnight. It seemed that the training staff of this Academy had been drawn at least partially from survivors of the Battle of Korriban, as this particular educator seemed to be quite fearful of the much shorter woman. Tanit looked up to her and nodded as they both rose from their knees. "Impressive that you knocked him out completely with a single blow. Did this Overseer teach you to be that vicious or are you self-motivated?" She asked the student directly. "It will be through my brutality that I will become one of the most powerful Sith to live in this time." She answered, quite confident in her tone. Tanit recognized that tone as one she had spoken with before as a student. She smiled, but shook her head at the notion. She too once thought that way, but her unmeasured cruelty and violence had yielded nothing but failure. "Of course you will be. Perhaps it will be you that reforges the Sith and not the Sith'ari correct?" Tanit offered, her tone turning more passive-aggressive than it had before. She could abide by Sith students that were confident. Confidence meant they believed in themselves within reason. It was bravado, much like her own before, that caused abject failure. The stumbling awkward silence that followed told her that the student either knew the truth, or knew well enough not to answer. If the Dark Side had chosen Darth Atrox as its herald, then who was she to question providence? Not all Sith were destined for greatness, she recognized that now. In herself she saw power, certainly, but she also knew that her power was not enough to even attempt to claim the title of Sith'ari. Still, now was not the time for petty power contests and betrayal. The Sith were backed into the shadows, if there was ever a time for unity it was now. Tanit looked to the Overseer, then to the student, and back, "A training blade, please." she requested, being granted one quite quickly by the slave that had pulled the defeated combatant from the pit. "You want to be vicious, and brutal. That will be your claim to power, correct? Show me. Attack me with all of your power." She said, removing the mantle and cloak and handing them to the slave that brought her the weapon. Tanit had not entered into a particular stance, but the battle would not last long once she decided to end it herself. She was like a predatory animal just working to tire out the prey on the chase before dealing the final blow. The student was wild, unchecked, and as before, clumsy. Her attacks were often flurries from the same direction, without direction, and ultimately easily deflected. Tanit stopped the final swing of a series and crudely punched the woman in the stomach. "The Way of the Sarlaac is about unpredictable and powerful strikes. You telegraph your attacks by winding back as if you were some kind of athlete hitting a ball. You lack focus, but your determination is not in question." She said, pulling her weapon back upright to intercept an attack thrown more by anger than thought. Tanit still yet could not be hit by the student, but that was the expectation she had when testing her before her Overseer. If she was the victorious opponent in a duel between hopefuls then either the future was bleak or she happened to catch the weakest two working out their frustrations. The student continued with what she had done prior, winding her attacks and giving her patterns away. They were still new to Form I and weapon training and it was obvious. Tanit blocked again and again, and landed her own kick to the woman's chest, knocking her flat on her back. "You're untrained and wild, but confident in your ability. You have yet to show me something for which you should be confident. Your footwork is unbalanced and your knowledge of the basic body zones is bare bones at best. Either you are new or your Overseer has failed you." She said, allowing the student to rise to her feet again. Tanit had to at least respect the woman's tenacity to keep coming back against an opponent she could not defeat. The duel re-engaged, if it could be called a duel. Tanit was going to use this moment to educate the student and in a way that she would hopefully not forget. A series of strikes, more predictable than erratic came again, and following the final dodge she stepped in and struck the right leg with a powerful strike from the pommel of the training saber. She wanted them to feel the pain on a more personal level, "Body zone five, the right leg." She said, emphasizing the correct zone identifcation before stepping back and allowing th student her angry flurry of blows before again deflecting upward and slamming into the left leg this time, "Body zone six, the left leg." and then again back away from the student who continued to grow more and more frustrated. Tanit fed on it, allowed it to flow through her, and enjoyed every second. Another series of blows, and another lesson to be learned from the student. Tanit intercepted the final blow and moved beyond the student, deflecting upward as she went to swing her fist into the lower back of the woman she was essentially toying with. "Body zone four, the back." She said, raising the weapon vertically and downward to block with a push to the right before swinging back in with the blade of teh weapon this time into the left arm, "Body zone three, the left arm." Tanit offered politely, watching her temporary student's weapon fumble out of her grip leaving her open for the strike to the right arm, "Body zone two, right arm." She then held the end of the training saber to the woman's face as she dropped to her knees in pain, "Body zone one, head." She finished. "You have potential, I believe this firmly, but you must focus on your training and not on your success. If you cannot grasp the simplicities of Form I then you will never truly grasp the more complex methods of combat. I trust you will take this lesson and learn from it properly. Study your Form I, train in it every day. Without dedication you will never achieve even a modicum of what you claim you desire." Tanit taught a lesson, one the student now listened to if only reluctantly. Pelko bug barbs were a nasty little addition to the Sith training weapons that were meant to mimic the effects of limb loss to a true Lightsaber, and meant that the student's arms were experiencing something quite physically unpleasant. Worse for the student though was the psychological anguish they felt. This defeat was so total that their confidence had been tarnished, as she expected it to be. "Your overconfidence will see you destroyed by the Jedi. Be cautious, and do not fall into the trap of slavish obedience to simple-minded concepts such as brutality and cruelty. A Sith is more than this, a Sith is a vessel of the Dark Side, not immature emotional tantrums. You will learn to control that with time. For now though, leave. I wish to have a word with your Overseer." She spoke to the student one final time before allowing them to rise and depart from the pit. They were wounded, physically and mentally, but the truly resilent would rise above those who could not make it. Tanit looked to the Overseer once the student was out of earshot, "Please report on this student's progress directly to me as well. I expect you to step up your teaching or I am certain Darth Verrin will find someone more capable than you. Do I make myself clear?" She said, donning her cloak and furred mantle once more. The color drained from the Overseer, "Absolutely, my Lord. I will do my best to improve." she quickly replied, attempting to conceal their fear. Tanit could feel it though, Tanit could feel that this Overseer was petrified at the idea of being replaced. "You're dismissed then." She said, to which the Overseer bowed in reply before leaving quickly. The unconscious student was removed already, and the slaves had gone as well, leaving just Darth Tanit standing alone in the training pit. It was times of solitude when she felt the most at peace, in spite of the Sith Code. Tanit had come to the Academy to watch training among the Acolytes and Hopefuls and ended up in the pit herself. It was an apt metaphor for her life it seemed. She had gone from young Corellian bystander many years ago, and now she was fully submerged within the Sith Order and touched by the Dark Side. If she had to choose to do it all over again with what she knew now, she would not change a thing about her life trajectory though. Failure and all, she was where she knew she belonged and that it was but a matter of time before she finally had something fall in her favor.
  13. Sign In/ Out

    I'm back, and ready to smash heads and such again.
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    I'm headed out for a trip to Didney Worl, posting will be sparse if existent at all. I'll have my tablet for Discord at night if anyone needs me for questions and the like though, and I can check PM's and stuff.
  15. That lovely College Experience...

    Things continued to escalate in the room as Verrin offered to bring brevity to the situation that had infuriated Tanit. She could appreciate that in him, but her appreciation of that was immediately shattered by the Acolyte's audacity. That he demanded he let her go was one thing, but his lashing out and shocking her with the telekinetic push had pushed her beyond the pale of reasonable reaction. When she impacted the wall the blade crashed on the ground again. The mistake he made was the assumption that pain would be a distraction to her. What he had done did not harm her truly, but it did raise her anger well beyond where it had been before. Her grip on the young man was released as he had hoped, but in doing so he freed her hands and the last thing he would have wanted now was for her to have both hands free to punish his folly. Tanit slapped her palm on the ground, and as loudly as she could manage her rage flared outward. It was a guttural, harsh, and raspy shout, and when she got to her feet she was far faster than before. The short woman dashed across the room and threw one hand out with the intent to grab him by the lapel or the throat, and with the other hand swung the back of her fist toward his jaw with the intent to either shut him up, or shatter it to the point that recovery would require him to have it pinned shut. Tanit was not about to put up with an Acolyte that thought so highly of himself that he was beyond reproach. No matter who he was or what he had designs on being, she was not going to let him get away with something like this without some kind of punishment. "You think yourself...beyond punishment. Beyond your place in the Order. I will remind you of your place." Tanit snarled hatefully, fully intent to leverage more of a beating against the young man should he continue to resist her reminder of his place as an acolyte beneath her.