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Found 230 results

  1. Talons and Claws

    Elona, 3628 BBY Vashlai entered the training pits. She wore a simple robe nothing too heavy or confining. She was not much of a fighter. She was more of a manipulator seeking to cause infighting rather than direct confrontation. Her species was not so inclined to combat but Vashlai knew a weakness when she saw one and a weakness could kill her or make her stronger. She entered the pits attracting the attention of some of the more human looking species. She was a bird...and the others made no quiet uproar over it. Taunts about having roasted fowl tonight reached Vashlai's ears. Vashlai knew they meant to upset her and goad her into a fight. She hissed at one of the humans a skinny and scrawny looking creature. "I am sorry...my hearing isn't so good. What was it you said again? " Of course, Vashlai knew what they had said. The human said. "Roasted fowl....for dinner." Vashlai still played dumb. "What? I *still* did not hear you. My ears must be filled with molting feathers. Come closer and help me understand what you said." The young man came forward and said. "I said...ROASTED FOWL FOR DINNER" Vashlai merely curled her beak forward in a smile. "That's what I thought you said." She grabbed the scrawny human and her clawed hand drew across his throat and slit his throat open. The young man fell over dead. She laughed in her squawking laugh. "If you want to eat me...come and get me! But I will give you death before you have a chance to have even one mouthful of me." Vashlai cocked her head. Well...she was pretty sure that these humans wanted her dead. She was an oddity and she had to at least leave a lesson in blood so they would back off. Such an odd place...she knew that the Sith were trying to rebuild and that they held back their aggressive instincts but because she was as alien as they came and the closest to an outsider they were going to get they wanted her dead. Hopefully one clawed and dead sentient was enough to send a message to leave her alone. If not...she was more than willing to add to the dead.
  2. Truth in Power

    The Sith Academy, Training Pits Telona 3629 BBY The path to power was always an arduous one. Through pain and dedication anyone could become more powerful, but only those who could withstand the siren call of the Dark Side could truly call themselves powerful Sith. Tanit had transcended death, and in a ritual heavy with the Dark Side discarded her old body and acquired a new one to continue pursuing the one truth of hte Sith, power. The ceremony was not without dangers. Had she a weaker will she would likely have been subsumed entirely by the spirits of the dead and drawn into chaos itself. One misstep and her attempts to stem the forward march of mortality would have ended in disaster. Tanit had never been one to dabble in true ritual power, though she had witnessed the results of both failed and successful ventures into those heady waters. Darth Atrox had come to her, already knowing of her failing health, and through his knowledge and power assisted in preserving her life not out of any sort of liking for her, but for the future of the Sith. In doing so though, he had weakened himself and as a result required time to recover just as she needed time to get herself in full control of this new figure. That put two of the primary figures of the Sith Remnant out of commission for a while, which meant that the danger to the Sith was at an all time high. She had never been this tall in her life. The body she had chosen was a fit young Zabrak woman who had made herself the prime candidate by proving she was physically adept. Tanit's greatest concern was to acquire a body that could take full advantage of the skills she acquired over time. Nearly six feet tall and with lean muscle, it was only natural that the unfortunate acolyte that her crosshairs landed on was the choice in the end. Now that she stood among her so-called acolyte peers she looked at others from a position of height that still surprised her with the perspective change. The Overseer was roughly the same height and looked over the group of students Tanit stood with appraising them. Such disdain was expressed in his face that she could not help but wonder what time period of the Sith he was living in. There was no way that the Overseers could eliminate lesser students. With such few resources on hand, nobody was expendable anymore. Tanit remembered a time when the chaff could be brutalized and removed, but those were in the more halcyon days of the Sith Empire. In her momentary reminscing she had not paid any mind to the Overseer. She was not concerned with him, so when he chose her for the demonstration she could not help but conceal a slight grin. Unused to the body though she may be, she had not forgotten her basic training principles. Some kind of guff about bare fisted proficiency being the only good fallback. Tanit ignored it, having stepped ahead of the other students watching the Overseer stand across from her. There was a palpable tension and fear from the students as they watched their trainer. He had commanded their respect it seemed, though she could not say just why yet. He was physically fit, tall enough, and looked like he had been a hard working fighter. That, she could respect. It became clear why he had stricken fear into them though, when he launched into some kind of fighting style she did not fully recognize. Tanit backpedaled quickly, perhaps more quickly than she should have as she still needed to get used to the length of her legs. The step back was finished by a kick she threw out, straight forward into the Overseer's chest and sending him stumbling back onto his rear. It was a reaction that no student had expected, and the Overseer clearly did not expect it himself. She assumed a defensive stance while he watched her from the ground, and looked to his students. Silent tension hung in the air, thick like a malicious fog, and left her and her opponent watching one another sharply. Who would make the first move after that?
  3. Sight without sight

    Magnus calmed his breathing, trying to take slow, deep breathes to get him to concentrate on the task that he has set for himself. He couldn’t see the surrounding green fields and trees around him, or the other stones blocks that he had placed at random places around him for this exercise, though that would be because he had placed a blindfold over his eyes. Now, most beings would wonder why he would do that, since he had a very high chance of falling over the rocks that he had placed around him, and to those beings, he would say that they were right. He had fallen over so meny times when he started that he had lost track of just how meny times. He was pretty sure that it was in the low tens, maybe 30 something, but he didn’t really focus on that, or the dull ache that resonated from his body from his meny slips and trips. What he was trying to do was to advance his Force Sense ability into the more useful Force Sight ability. He had read that in a book that he had brought with him from the archives, and heard from Mirran, that Force Sight was the ability to see the world around you without the need to use your eyes but with the Force. With this in mind, he had thought of the meny applications that this can be used for such as knowing what’s in your surroundings, seeing if using your eyes became unavailable or knowing where you are going in an unknown area. But one of the main reasons that he was training to try to use this skill, was because he is interested in seeing what everything looked like with this ability active. He had a slight description from Mirran when he had first met her and it had given the inspiration to try and learn it himself. What would a simple tree look like with the ability? Would it have a unique colour to it different from other trees or would it be the same? How would people look? These types of questions swirled within his mind so he was going to make sure that he could answer them. He stood on top of one of the stones around him and started to use Force Sense. Once he had done that, he then started to try and elevate the feelings that he was getting, trying to fill in whatever blanks that were around him, those being the grass covering the floor, the trees that were nearby and most importantly where the rest of the stones were. So after a small amount of time, where he thought that he could see something, he tried to jump to where he thought the nearest stone was. side note : used Force Sense
  4. Ready, aim, FIRE!

    Telona, 3629 BBY Magnus lowered the basic blaster pistol he held In his hand down as he looked at the results of his latest attempts at trying to improve his skill with the ranged weapon and if he was being honest with himself, he was pretty damn good. If you called being good as mostly missing his intended targets with only a small few being somewhat close to them, then he was the master at that. Now, this wasn’t to say that he had no skill what so ever, he did have the basic skill and understanding of how to use the thing so that he wouldn’t end up blasting his foot off, he preferred to keep that part of his body thank you very much, but he was only a good shot with it when he was close ranged. In a close range fight, you don’t really need to aim that much to be able to hit your opponent, there were right in front of you after all, and since the majority of people thought that Jedi’s only use their lightsabers it can be a great surprise tactic to use to get the upper hand in a fight. But it has always been his mindset that if you were going to use something, then you had to make sure that you were using it to it’s fullest poteintail, which means understanding the blaster in his hands, making sure he could aim properly, knowing how to add mods to his weapon and eventually knowing how to overclock it and use it. Right now, he was working on his aim, moving away from his chosen target, nothing more than sheets of paper, which he placed on nearby rocks, that he doodled silly grinning evil faces on them which at the time he thought would help curb his slight annoyance for missing with humour. Unfortunately they just seemed to say to him in his mind, in for some reason a really high and squeaky voice, “Ha! You call that aiming? My grandmother can aim better than you and she’s a tree!!!” ... It was times like this that cause the copper haired initiate to wonder if he has started to loss his mind or not. Although if he knew would that really change anything? He reasoned no, since even if he was a little crazy that he would be that good kind of crazy where everyone would just call him eccentric most of the time, not the bad crazy where he was a megalomaniac bent on domination. With those strange thoughts pushed out of his head, he decided to consult a book that he had managed to find in the archives on blaster pistols, maybe there was a tip in there that could help him. So he placed his weapon on the floor next to the volume, opened the book to his pre-marked page and began to read through it.
  5. Suspicions....

    Telona, 3629 BBY Vashlai and all her belongings had been confiscated, of course, that had not been without a lot of squawking, claw scratches and a lot of fuss. She had been accused of being a spy. The Fosh's feathers remained a steel grey color a sign of anger as well as annoyance. There really wasn't much Vashlai could do. Instead, she paced the dimensions of her cell and carefully studied them. There was a holocamera in the cell. Vashlai was able to find it and she saw it on the ceiling. She turned her gaze towards it. No doubt she was being studied as well. Such a thought made Vashlai squawk a light squawk in amusement and caused her feathers to turn green. She had spent most of her life observing the actions of others and now finding herself being observed kind of tickled her. She pondered what would happen to her. She had heard the Sith could be harsh to beings such as her. Death was likely....no... not death. If they wanted her dead they would have killed her right off. Torture...that was pretty likely but Vashlai had a high tolerance towards pain in general, what would make others scream in agony would have the Fosh give squawks of pleasure. She had no idea why she enjoyed pain in such a way. Perhaps her pain receptors were wired differently from others or perhaps she had turned off the segment of her brain that processed pain. Anyway, conventional torture did not work on the Fosh like it would on others. Although the Sith were welcomed to try. She had only wished to progress in the ways of the Sith and their abilities that they called the Force. So far all her being here guaranteed her a prison cell. It was pretty spartan in appearance a bed that was a cold durasteel slab. A couple of buckets of water. Someone would eventually come. Meanwhile... Vashlai closed her eyes and practiced the meditation she had learned from the holocron. She felt the stirrings of the Force...that strange power that both the Jedi and Sith laid possession of. Vashlai knew she had such stirrings of that power within her. Her people had no knowledge of this power. Yet Vashlai as soon as she was aware of this power craved it. She had come here to know more. Hopefully, the Sith... would teach her. It did not look likely at the moment but Vashlai knew that she must be careful as her landing here was proof on how suspicious and cautious these people were.
  6. Kala had heard rumors that there was an unsanctioned pazaak game that went on occasionally in the ranks of the Peacekeepers. That was way too tempting to the Corellian not to get involved and a way to make a quick credit. So she twirled a cred coin between her fingers and went on a mission to find out where this game was being held. Sure enough, she found the game in one of the bunk rooms of the Peacekeepers. She grinned and smiled. "Hey, guys...mind if I join in?" The players, mostly guys shrugged. A clean-shaven guy responded, "If you're gullible enough to want to play....you can join in all you want. Just to warn you, Gav Nestlin is pretty hot tonight." Kala chuckled. "Hot huh? Hmm...keep it under your hats but I like hot guys." The Peacekeepers laughed at Kala's double-entendre. She plopped down her credit coin and took out her lucky pazaak deck. Gav took the deck from her hands and inspected it. " I want to make sure you're not cheating, babe." Kala rolled her eyes. "Me...cheating....don't be absurd. My deck is legit. And don't call me babe, last guy that called me babe ended up losing his reason for manhood." More laughter erupted from the Peacekeepers. Gav grinned and he stated. "Where do you hail from.....Ms..." "Ming. Kala Ming. The whole galaxy is my home, but I was born on Corellia." Gav chuckled. "Corellia, huh? Even more of a reason to suspect you of cheating." Kala glared and pulled out her blaster. "I don't take kindly to insults, Gav. Are we going to play? Or are you going to insult my birthplace." He chuckled and laid a hand on her blaster. "Look Miss...you got me pegged wrong. It's just that Corellia isn't exactly known for...." Kala snorted. "Keep opening your mouth and you're going to find yourself digging yourself into an even deeper hole you can't climb out of." Gav sighed and held up his hands. "I've got some Corellian brandy I've stashed away. Most of us have something stashed around that command don't know we have. You see...last time we had a party...the Jedi kind of ruined it for us. I am sure most of them are fine and all but...ever since that night our parties and gambling have had to be lowkey. I figure a lady like yourself might like a drink. Let me go crack my bottle open and give you a drink to apologize." Kala chuckled. "Apology accepted, Gav. There are few things I like in this life and one of them is pazzak, the other is a good shot of Corellian brandy. "
  7. Taking in the view....

    Telona, 3629 BBY The Wilds of Dathomir So this was Dathomir. Vashlai looked around her beedy red eyes taking in everything around her. She did not expect a welcoming committee she predicted attack or perhaps even someone's hound to be set upon her. In fact, this went against everything her people would have liked her to do. She was supposed to observe others and not get involved in the affairs of this part of the galaxy. She was to take notes and then report them back to her people. Yet, Vashlai had broken contact with her people and she suspected that they probably would have deemed that somehow she was dead. Such a thought amused Vashlai and her feathers turned green. Perhaps it was better for her people to believe she was dead than to be stuck with her inane assignment of watching and not interfering. She gently stroked Pet, her loth-cat. She had found the creature half starved and hanging around her ship when she had quietly observed Lothal. She had thought of drowning the thing but Pet had spunk as it scratched at her and fought hard against death and so Vashlai kept the cat and she had perhaps grown fond of it. It was one of the few things that Vashlai had an attachment for. A bird with a pet cat probably would seem unusual but Vashlai was not your ordinary avian species that was apparent. Vashlai looked around her, the planet seemed to stretch forward with forest-like jungles and no doubt filled with predatory creatures. The planet oddly reminded her a bit of her own home. Pet suddenly hissed and started going crazy in her arms. Vashlai hissed. "Stupid pet....bad pet. If you can't be good get back on my ship." The cat leaped from her arms and retreated into her ship. Pet probably sensed someone coming.
  8. Down on her Luck...

    Selona 10, 3629 BBY "Why am I even fracking here?" Kala muttered to herself as she landed her freighter on Dantooine. She hadn't been here in a long time, memories of her being dragged here as part of her probation. She had been looking at a very long prison term for smuggling spice and various illegal items. She had tried to smooth talk her way out of it but frack the damn Jedi that didn't seem to want to work with her like others could. He had her arrested and her ship impounded and she had ended up in a brig. The next thing she knew the magistrate told her she had two options, go to the Dantooine Enclave for Jedi training or spend a good nine to ten years in prison. Gee, what idiot would say, give me prison. So of course, Kala had chosen the alternative, Jedi training. Jedi training never really took to the smuggler, she was like a stubborn Ronto. Of course, the Jedi tried to be kind and said, this isn't a punishment. Kriffing hell it was a punishment. Course she tried to learn the Jedi way, but without much success. She sighed as she got off her freighter and tried to call upon the Force and tried to push something just for shits and giggles but all that happened was a light tremble the small stone she tried to budge...well she felt something...the stone seemed to tremble ever so lightly but that was it. Yep, I am a wing clipped mynock. She had no skill towards that obvious Jedi skill. She might as well be a fracking null. Ehh, no biggy she wasn't here to beg a return to the Jedi. Nope, she was here hoping that maybe the Jedi might offer her a job. She was a smuggler after all and she had a really bad string of luck lately. A Hutt had tried to confiscate her ship, hell no. No one was going to confiscate Shadow Dancer. She managed to narrowly escape that fate by....she cringed at the thought. Damn Hutts had only one weakness, they loved dancing and well worming her way into a lustful Hutt's heart... Kala told the Hutt she would be his dancing girl. He hadn't counted on her putting poison in his meal bowl. He died a horrible death and Kala managed to get away debt free with a slightly soiled reputation. Kala felt kind of guilty over that. Kala didn't like killing sentients but it wasn't as if a Hutt was the most honorable of creatures. Of course, there was always the risk that the Hutts would come after her yet again. Yet, killing a Hutt lent a lot of street cred. Hutts tended to fear death though and if one could kill just one Hutt there was always the risk that Kala could kill another. Meanwhile, Kala whistled a bit of a Correlian drinking tune as she stood outside of her ship. She took out a flask and took a draught from it. She doubted the Jedi would welcome the rogue smuggler. She had time to kill and very few credits to her name.
  9. The Butterfly Effect

    Dantooine Enclave Selona, 3629 BBY Thuria walked swiftly through the enclave. The whole time, she thought over to her first meeting with Far-Shan Nadiito. That was before she had a master and she was still a Padawan. At this point, everything was about to change. Questions formed in her mind: who was her Padawan? Would she like her? Would her Padawan do the same? Honestly, Thuria was nervous about this whole arrangement. And yet, she wondered how she would do as a master herself. She momentarily glimpsed up at the high ceiling, This temple was her home for years. She was ready to start a new life, even if it was something grander than herself. She had no choice. She would just have to get used to battles and fighting. She was a guardian, and with that came duty and honor among the Jedi Knights of the Republic. Her silver hair flowed with each step she took. Now more than ever, she hoped she treated her Padawan with the best intentions. At last, she came to the Eye of Zallow monument. It's huge holocron shaped sphere floated above her head. She looked down in angst, wondering when her Padawan might yet arrive, if she was coming at all.
  10. Crescent

    Kelona 3629 BBY, The Training Fields of Dantooine --- It had been awhile, the cool and scented breeze of Dantooine flowing through his hair and cooling his exposed flesh, the sweater that had formed on his brow trickling down. Home, or what was a replacement for home at the very least - nothing could replace Tython during it's prime, but this was as close to returning to one's roots as it could get. Even now with his master's lightsaber in his hands, he felt at peace and willing to embrace the warmth that each strike and swing of the weapon provided. Each pattern being utilized to transition from one point to another, fluid like water flowing before finalizing into the finality - like water falling over a cliff. Knowledge that had been cascaded onto the young man flowed through his memories as he fought his imaginary enemy. Each repetitive cut carved through the air as he transitioned between Shii-Cho's more basic and erratic movements to Djem So's powerful fluid strikes, each muscle seizing as he stopped his blade mid strike to stimulate a parry or hit - Dulon perhaps was the most ridiculous looking training technique a Jedi or anyone could do, but it helped one understand control and taught one how to be fluid. The movements slowed to a halt as he deactivated his weapon and lowered himself to his knees, exhaling sharply as his fingers pressed together to meditate, to slowly replenish his reserves. Like everything touched by the Force, one's potential was determined by their willingness to push themselves. The man's physical prowess was great yet his ability with the Force was weak, though he had dedicated himself to more defensive skills to supplement his preferred style, he was still mastering his ability to utilize the skills with his weapon and in the heat of a duel. Yet, that was not the reason he was here today - he was there to provide Homra a hand with the Jedi that were continuing to pour into their ranks. Unlike the other Jedi that typically ran around, Yusanulis was significantly more headstrong and perhaps the only one aiming for the title of Battlemaster. Unlike most his knowledge of lightsaber combat outshining most, as well as his innate battle senses from his Echani heritage - something he relied on as much as his Force senses. He grunted at the idea of being an instructor at the Enclave, but perhaps he could help those that struggled with their physical attributes, those that were undisciplined and those that could be beaten into shape. Even during a time when the phrase 'The Sith Empire' was fading, the threat of the Sith loomed as some were found in the Outer Rim, and the other smaller Empire's sought to build a powerbase. The Jedi could only police so much before they were considered evil dictators like the Sith, but they could continue to train to be prepared for the worst - paranoia or not, letting one's being become weak because of a lack of threats was slothful. It was only a matter of time before those that took notice of the request posted the day prior showed up.
  11. Ludus Summus

    Elona, 3630 BBY Sith Academy Training Pits on Dathomir (after the conclusion of Incipit) Entering the Sith Academy training pits for the very first time, Kai was suddenly glad she was not doing so, alone. There were some initiates and acolytes already present within. Some were practicing their swordplay, others were sparring with each other while some (less confident ones, perhaps) chose to do so with large sandbags marked with targets. A few (older acolytes by the looks of them) were engaging in obscure martial arts routines. The Korun stepped inside the doorway and off to the side as not to block the entrance -- silently watching the activity, leaning against the wall -- seemingly unnoticed for the time being. One of the trainees' brilliance was immediately apparent. He disarmed one of the taller companions with whom he was sparring, lowered his wooden training sword and turned his gaze blatantly upon her, Kai, as if his will alone could move the young woman from her standing spot. The Korun moved away from the wall and began to walk across the soft ground, her eyes leveled calmly with the stranger's. She did not know his name, but he seemed to have quite the reputation, judging by the way everyone else looked at him: there was an almost reverence and definitely fear. So, he thought himself to be better than everyone else, did he? Maybe it was time to test that theory, Kai thought, although it would have been her very first time, going up against a male combatant. Come to think of it, the Korun had not even tried sparing with a sandbag. And how could she, given that she had arrived here barely two days ago? If she were lucky, Kai would be allowed to practice with a training saber or a vibrosword, although she would use a stick if commanded to. There was no shame in using any weapon, as long as you gave it your very best shot, the initiate thought. She was moving too fast. The Korun's initial excitement was clearly getting the better of her. Pausing in her tracks, Kai decided to halt her approach in case it was seen as a direct challenge. You are not ready for that yet, the young woman scolded herself silently. Dual-colored gaze flushed with dismay was quietly lifted to Darth Verrin, who had yet to give any direction as to what he would expect of her.
  12. Enantiomorphs

    Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars. It was a core belief to them, and the main reason they were so harsh; no one grew stronger due to being deprived of challenges or growth, or so they were lead to believe. The weak would be violated, desecrated, destroyed - the strong would struggle, adapt, evolve and succeed. A simple mantra, and therein lied the problem in Corvus' honest opinion. As he watched Acolytes and other Masters move about, practicing to hone their mind and bodies into instruments of way; it was just too simple. It was easy to lose yourself in a fit of blind rage. It would certainly give you a great burst of strength when you let your emotions take control, but the rebound was often both great and damaging. Few realized this, far too few. It's why Sith would often throw themselves headfirst into peril and come out permanently damaged. Perhaps a bum leg for the rest of their life, or fit with a re breather for the foreseeable future. Therefore, as he had once believed; the key was this: Be angry, but do not act angry. Whether or not it was a controversial topic when you talked with others about the "Light side" or the "Dark Side", there had to nonetheless be a harmony between "Good" and "Evil". Corvus couldn't help but lament about how annoying being alive was, because the dichotomies were both endlessly present and infinitely annoying. He glanced down at his hands, balled them tightly into fists and then relaxed them once more as he watched the Acolytes in particular. "Kid's who are too obedient and never think of themselves are the hardest to watch." He mumbled to no one in particular, simply sighting as the color in his eyes shifted to other things that felt more important. Not a whole lot, save a few individuals who were doing things their own way. They were still infants, oblivious to the reality they stood on. The frail, fragile reality. They didn't understand death at all. They would learn how to inflict damage on other people, and perhaps even make it to the point where they could kill a poor old woman if they were pushed to a corner. No; if they could truly see death, they probably wouldn't be able to maintain their sanity. The freshest of recruits - all they could perceive is what was alive. Truly understanding 'death' was something that undermined everything. Temporary, everything is temporary. Not in the sense that it can be replaced, or that it'll be gone in a couple hundred thousand years. Standing on the battlefield as many times as he had forced him to understand quite clearly: The ground was like it wasn't even there, and the sky felt like it could fall at any moment; crushing everything insignificant beneath its infinite mass in a flash. The whole world could perish in an instant, as its reality is naught but a simple illusion to safeguard the ordinary peoples minds. How many of them would continue to struggle once they came face to face with the reality? Corvus let out an audible hum as he continued to watch things unfold before him- "I should get started on those savages, soon."
  13. Paths We Take

    Elona, 3629 BBY Somewhere Far Far Away... Despite being the voice of the Jedi, the one chosen to lead them, much of what she spoke went unheard. With her deep connection to the Force and pure heart, the Togruta was the closest thing to an oracle that their faction had, yet trying to encourage a swift change in one's lifestyle amongst the masses was difficult to put it mildly. For too long their people had pushed the boundaries of the Code, had let emotions get the best of them. The lines between Jedi and Sith began to blur much to her horror; any being blessed with the gift of the Force was equal, only becoming light or shadow based on how they used their abilities. When the Jedi became an army, a tool used by the Republic, the balance began to shift and cover the Galaxy in darkness. To help correct it, the Jedi had to return to their roots, and that should have been enough, should have balanced the scales. Yet they began to teeter, tipping in favor of one side, then the other, the stronger faction between light and dark Force Users yet unknown. Warnings of what she sensed were ignored, and so the young woman left while knowing few would notice her lack of presence. . . . Gasping, throwing the blanket off her form as she scrambled out of the makeshift cot, it took a few achingly long moments to orient herself, to recall where she was, that she was alone, that she was still in one piece. Wiping the perspiration from her skin with a damp cloth, the Jedi gazed up at the sky blanketed with stars. No one could or would guess that peace would crumble sooner than later. The Force had been plaguing her mind with visions, her mental barriers weak from the continuous onslaught of bits and pieces to a larger picture, of unclear images - only from time to time did something solid appear, often of a particular man she encountered once before through the Force while on the planet Alderaan. She could never forget his aura, his armor-clad silhouette. "...I see," she murmured to the air, letting out a sigh. "So that is the path I must walk, a very rocky and steep trek. Force be with me..."
  14. Birthright

    Elona 3629, Dathomir Sith Academy Months had passed, chasing the dreams of past Emperors - the idea of immortality, such a moot and depressing ideal had instead awoken something greater in their quest. His observers, the blackened Echani and the diplomatic witch working to ensure all the information he could want was bestowed upon him. Within the tombs of Kalakar and on Korriban he had retraced every single step Cideon had taken, yet instead of failing where Cideon had - he had found what he was looking for, a way to bring rebirth to the dying embers.. then the tome he had discovered soon became a relic he kept close with him, never truly leaving his side. Hidden within the Unknown Regions laid their salvation, the remnants of Empires of eld protected and lost within the vastness of the galaxy. Dagan had the remains of their own fleet, but the fleet none had questioned what had happened to was ripe for the picking. Perhaps that is why the Empire had fell, none had asked questions - many were simply wanting to live their lives ignorant to the truth. “Prepare my ship for departure, and summon Corvus and Sanguira - it is time to take back the birthright that belonged to every Imperial,” the words were hissed behind the vocoder of his mask, a tome snuggly held under his right arm as he eyed Dathomir, the savage planet that had been their former salvation. While they could not simply rip out the throat of the Jedi and the Republic, they could regrow themselves and use their superior intelligence to wound them. Each of the Sith that held power had their own positive traits, though certain traits stood out from each one - each one of them would be required to do their own duty in this revanchism. Verrin had the academy and a way to approach the students to properly prepare them for war. Tanit embodied the fury of the Sith, even in her waning health she was still a brute force to be reckoned with, and while her military career had been anything but successful, this would at least provide her with a chance to prove her usefulness to the Sith entirely. Tactically superior to Tanit was Corvus, the Echani Sithspawn that had the keenest intelligence and speed to be able to orchestrate these planned attacks with quick succession and even before being tampered with showed the will and endurance of a true Sith, something they sorely required. Finally it fell upon Sanguira to begin her campaign of diplomacy and subjugation, as she had the power and intelligence to crush her enemies, her intelligence was better suited to something that wouldn’t be completely eradicating all those who stood in her way. --- As their vessel departed towards Dathomir, he realized many would probably oppose his right to rule - and truthfully he didn’t blame them, but unfortunately enough for them they lacked someone with vision, one who realized foresight was worse than hindsight. Tacticians were a rarity, and many of those who held their own power didn’t know how to wield it into a potent weapon. “Corvus,” murmuring as he turned to the Echani, his hand sliding to the two lightsabers on his waist before tossing them towards the man, “I trust you are fully capable of quelling any rebellious.. fools. It is not my duty to crush any resistance, especially during times of rallying and rousing the people. Make sure Lord Verrin’s overseers are aware of our arrival, Ereneda.” Feeling the vessel land by the Sith Academy, the Sith’ari lowered the ramp as he took the necessary steps towards the training grounds, cloak draped over his being as he no longer appeared regal outwardly, instead appearing ragged from his adventures. Regality was for royalty, not a God - sitting on one’s hands was a good way to stagnant, and Atrox was never one to accept stagnation. Watching as the overseers gathered what they could, following suit of their returned Dark Lord, the man allowed his two companions to remain by his side. Perching himself over the largest training pit, his boots sunk into the mud as he stood far above those gathered there. He had noted the fact the savages weren’t subjugated yet, though they would in time with the return of Corvus. “Children of the fallen, the downtrodden. Do you not tire of remaining under the heel of our oppressors? To remain amongst these savages, these Dathomirian witches and shamans.. have we truly forgotten our greatness?” The questions rang with the same rage that once sounded from the man on Balmorra, his eyes focusing on the masses as he threw out one hand to the side, his cloak twisting in the wind, “We’ve lost our worlds, and unfortunately our faith - but I have been watching from afar, and I understand the anger and the hatred we all feel for the Republic. Our salvation is not an all out war, we are far too weak to muster that - but to slay the goliath, we must strike their weaknesses.” Hand sliding to his belt as he retrieved a holo-projector and clicked the button, throwing it out before him as it landed in the mud projecting multiple planets and points of interest. Industrial planets, the Kuat Drive Yards, the ships that remained within their control, and Vitiate’s own Imperial fleet - even Mandalore. It wouldn’t be an easy task to secure all points of interest, but they had the time and patience to properly secure them. “Each and every member of the Sith Remnant is a cog in this machine, together we are stronger than the Republic and unlike the Jedi, we are cunning enough to accept that maybe sometimes our morals hold us back,” speaking louder as he returned his hand to the tome at his side, his hand tightening over it's spine, “Unlike Emperor’s of eld, I do not disappear forever to simply pursue my own goals - the Sith’ari does not reject his own blood for personal goals.” He brought his right hand to his mask and released the hatches. Pulling off the mask revealed a different Atrox, one who had been stressed beyond recognition - though one who had managed to find a temporary solution to his accelerated ageing, that came at a price. Dishevelled hair flowed down his face as his hood came back, the black and grey hairs twisted together, yet on his face he held a grin - a form of pride one could almost feel. “Are you with me, brothers and sisters?”
  15. What Stays in the Cantina

    Nar Shaddaa Elona, 3629 BBY Kal took another sip of his Juma Juice. It had been too long since he played Pazaak. The feel of the card deck was great. Oh, how he wished things hadn't been so drastic! Karter was no longer his employer and Kal wasn't returning to Alderaan soon enough, not with everyone on his case over there. He sighed, knowing he would have to face trial eventually. He looked around the cantina. The lights were dim, except for above the tables. All sorts of aliens, creatures, and humans wandered to and fro about the cantina. Like him, they were eager to talk or play cards. He shuffled his deck, in hopes of finding someone who would play a game with him. Anyone! "Ah!" Kal grunted, annoyed. "This is great! I lose employment and must now seek another ship!" He asked the bartender aloud, "Say, bartender, how about another drink?!" "You've had one too many, Kal!" The bartender said, annoyed. "You don't deserve another drink!" "I don't deserve--" Kal stood up, advancing towards the bar table in a comedic stance. "Hey, hey, hey! Have I steered you wrong? I ordered a nice drink and hopefully, I'll get to play a nice game of Pazaak. Is that really too much to ask?" He pressed his hand against his chest, showing remorse in the best possible way. "You're still too drunk, Kal!" The bartender said, more annoyed. "Now, seeing as you're a paying customer, I'm going to have to ask you to keep quiet. Otherwise, I'll kick you out of my cantina, before you can say 'The Gizka are here!'" Kal raised his hands, retreating to his table. "Alright! You got me, bartender. I'll be quiet. I'll be as still as a grophet on a really bad day!" He sat down, staring at his empty glass in shame. He really wanted another drink, but sadly that wasn't about to happen. He sighed, wondering who he could talk to now that would understand how he was feeling.
  16. A Jedi Knight At Last!

    The Dantooine Enclave Elona, 3629 BBY Thuria made her way through the training grounds. The scent of fresh pine needles caught her nostrils, bringing up memories of the past. Oh, the long years she spent wondering when this day would come: the day she would become a Knight of the Republic. She was about to get her wish! She was becoming a Guardian! Her chance to explore other worlds, train a Padawan, and more. She stopped once to see two Padawans face off against a Mark III droid. How could she forget her training against that droid or the many droids she faced on her travels? If there was one thing she learned from being a Padawan, it was to not give up and not to give into temptation. She learned this the hard way with Dek Fisher, the Jedi who she had feelings for and the Jedi who taught her that sometimes love is not the only thing that matters. It was friendships, but also the need to see past the pain and come up with a more realistic solution. It was time to let go of the past, to let her wounds heal. She made it this far as a Padawan and had her frequent stumbles, but Brison, Inoy, and Coventry had been with her to see through the pain and suffering. They helped mold her into the Jedi she was now and she was grateful to have become their friends. Then there was Far-Shan Nadiito, the first fox to ever speak to her when she was still innocent and naive. She was still naive in a lot of ways, but she couldn't help growing out of that and maturing. She learned a few tricks along the way, learned how to use her lightsaber and craft it into what she wanted. Her wood cased lightsaber was useful for calming her down, but also to help her become more aware of her surroundings. It was an extension of her and she would make sure to use it to help her stay on the Light Side. She wasn't about to give up the good in others, solve problems without first finding its source, and from that becoming a better person. Within the few minutes she stood watching the Padawans, Thuria realized she was ready to move forward with her life. . Thuria entered the temple, finding the familiar stone pillars, the statues of the Jedi Masters long past, and the Eye of Zallow monument floating in-between the two ramps, leading to the second floor. She stopped here, searching for the way to her knighting ceremony. Where was she to go? No. She would think this through before she acted. Surely, there was a Jedi Master who could guide her to the ceremony. She took a seat in front of the Eye of Zallow, which strangely reminded her of a massive Holocron. It was a familiar to her, the place where she met her first Jedi Master, Ellina Kast. She sighed, wondering if she would meet her old master during her knighting ceremony this year. She hoped she was right.
  17. Incipit

    21st Atunda Elona, 3630 BBY Dathomir | Sith Academy | Library Archives First new day in the new surroundings. Kai awoke in the early hours of the morning, feeling stiff and sore from the trappings of her new bed. She had not slept on anything nearly this comfortable before, and the idea of having to do so again and again brought on mixed feelings. Time’s a wasting, the girl reminded herself sternly, you did not come here for a vacation. Leaning down, she pulled on her boots mostly by feel, while her eyes grew used to the dim light of her newly assigned domicile. Then came the single customary yawn, followed by a stretch, and then another, and another. It took some time, but eventually Kai felt relief seep into her shoulder and neck joints, rendering her well enough to rise and stand tall. Sharp gaze befell the stone floor as she considered something. “Yes. Tonight I think I will try something different.” Given that ‘tonight’ was still many hours away and she had no notion of returning to her quarters before then, Kai walked over to the wash basin and began splashing water onto her face and hands, scrubbing the skin gently with her fingertips. It would not do to step outside looking the part of a haggard beggar. No, when she walked out there, into the public eye, Kai would have to continue making the best impression possible. The Korun may have come from a rough neighborhood, but that did not make the girl a hoodlum. While drying her face with a rough-spun cloth provided courtesy of the Academy, Kai realized she would have to find her own way about the place. Hopefully the treks taken under Maggie’s guidance would have embedded themselves in Kai’s memory well enough to serve as makeshift maps. She did not fancy the thought of being seen roaming the halls in circles, amidst hushed whispers and cackles of other initiates or worse yet, instructors. Closing her eyes for a moment, Kai began reconstructing the walk from the foyer, through the numerous halls, the library and then finally, Darth Verrin’s office. Deeming it of little use considering her current location, she then mentally retraced her steps from the Zabrak’s office to the library, and eventually being led here by the artificial life form. Vague, all too vague! The girl scolded herself in silence. Were you too focused on impressing a Sith that your mind began to decay the moment your surroundings changed to a non-Zabrak venue? It was no use. Kai would have to rely on her logic and forget her dulled mind for the time being. Walking back to her sleeping cot, she pulled a thermos out of her pack and poured herself a cup of brown, murky liquid. The coffee was not fresh, but at least it was warm. Taking comfort in the bitterness of a familiar liquid that reminded her of home, Kai decided on a quick change of apparel before heading out for the day. When she at least emerged from her quarters, the young woman was attired in all black with the exception of a single accessory in her hair: trousers, boots, mock turtleneck tunic - all spouted sobriety while touting a reticent aura of mystery. Wais-long hair was pulled back and gathered into a ponytail adorned with a wisteria colored ribbon. Kai did not bother looking at herself in the mirror, knowing well she looked serious and severe. So at least when I am blathering nonsensical thoughts while lost in the labyrinth of endless walls, I can do so with a dignified bearing? Pause. Sarcasm does not become you, Kai Tsintah. Fortitude. Honor. Truth. Those are your tenets; keep them well. Keep them strong. Having calmed her thoughts, the Korun stepped farther into the hallway and headed back in the opposite direction Maggie led her here the day before. To her surprise, she had not come across a single being, the only sound in the halls being the crisp, even echo of her combat boots. Before long, she would find herself before a large double door which seemed rather familiar. She hesitated only a little, before stepping forward and pressing her palm against the opening mechanism, hoping it would budge under the pressure alone. If it were kept locked and only accessible during certain hours of the day, Kai would find herself perplexed and disappointed. But to her surprise, the door gave way, allowing this early visitor inside. A soft smile graced her usually somber features. There it was, just as she had first seen it yesterday: a grandiose chamber of black marble, adorned with massive wooden and metal shelves. Dual-colored eyes wandered over them as she passed, silently admiring innumerable hard copies of data housed there. There were electronic terminal too, although Kai doubted she had access to them at this point. But there were so many holo-books, scrolls and tomes surrounding her from every angle, that she had no doubt would keep her busy here for months…. perhaps even years! Excitement surging through her veins, Kai moved toward one of the shelves, scanning for any texts on Sith combat utilizing the lightsaber. It was a bold decision, but the Korun considered it to be a logical place to start. Self-defense was paramount, not just to a Sith hopeful, but anyone. The galaxy was a dangerous place, she thought back on Nar Shaddaa and all the dark memories it held for her. No, she thought firmly while pulling out a couple of volumes from the shelf overhead, I will never be caught impotent to defend what is mine, again. Walking over to a nearby table, Kai sat down and lay the books before her; fingertips gently, almost reverently outlining oiled leather bindings.
  18. Lightsaber basic's

    Magnus walked passed self after self in the archives, quickly scanning the backs of the books that were available to the young Jedi in training in hopes of finding a book that would help him with understanding the most basic tool that more or less every Jedi had, the lightsaber. True he had already had a lightsaber for the majority of his life when his previous master had given it to him back on the lonely planet and had plenty of time to look it over and take it apart, but in true he was worried that if he did, then it would somehow get damaged from his medalling and won’t work anymore. But he knew that this was an issue that has to be dealt with so here he was, searching the archives, a place that still amazed him with the sear amount of books and data cubes that it had, for anything that would give him a clear idea on how they worked. He had managed to acquire a data cube that held the information that he wished but he liked to make sure through other sources if he could. It didn’t take long until he spotted a book that had the title ‘Lightsaber basic’s’, where he quickly removed it from the self and found a quiet corner of the archives with a chair and table and sat down while he opened both the book and data cube to digest its information. Through both of them he found plenty of useful information that told him how a lightsaber was used, briefly going over dual wielding that peaked Magnus’s curiosity, and how it worked inside of its casing coming with a detailed schematic of them. ‘Ok that’s... not too complicated.’ He said to himself as he brought his training lightsaber out and placed it on the centre of the table. In principle, they were the same, a training lightsaber and actual ones, so the mechanics were similar except for the use of an actual kyber crystal. Magnus took one last look at the diagram of the lightsaber and its individual pieces, before calmly closing his eyes and levitated the saber in the air while he concentrated on imagining the different parts of the blade and began to try to take them apart.
  19. Inception

    Kai did not remember how they got here. Idly, the Korun wondered whether she would be capable of making her way back to the settlement if the need arose. Her mind whirled, conflicting thoughts and emotions growing in scope and stature, as if somehow magnified by whatever surrounded her. Everything she felt here seemed stronger, Kai thought. The scout that guided her within said nothing throughout the entire journey to the Academy which suited her fine because Kai did not really feel like talking. Instead, she preferred to feed her senses with the aura emitted by her surroundings as the two travelers walked onward, keeping up an invariably brisk pace. The young woman’s stamina notwithstanding, she wondered how many kilometers they had covered. Distracted by a myriad of thoughts mingling with budding excitement, Kai forgot to count her steps and lost track of time, given the burgeoning, dense cloud cover that painted foreboding shadow against the thick canopy of verdant green. Overwhelmed by the mystery of all that had befallen her that day, the Korun's initial curiosity about the appearance and identity of her shadowy companion all but faded away. For his part, the scout simply stuck to his mission: leading Kai someplace she believed, would be a doorway to her new destiny. How much longer? This thought, pushing its way through a throng of many others, seemed to amplify the loudest. Just then, the rain forest enveloping the travelers seemed to thicken. Kai’s brows narrowed, her gaze sharpening as she clutched her walking staff ever tighter. And yet, her eyes were not deceiving her; the underbrush and forest engulfing them grew more dense with every passing step. Sensing danger at the last possible moment, Kai looked down, seeing a large flattened boulder just in front of her. And then another. And another. Stepping stones, she realized as her staff came down in front of her, hands twisting upon it. Her momentum ceased briefly, dual-colored gaze examining the obstacle in front of her. Man-carved steps. Ahead of Kai, the scout paused for a moment as if waiting for her to catch up. Odd. He did not turn. He simply. Just. Knew. Alright, then! Climbing the stairs, Kai ascended to the step just below her shadowy guide’s. The figure in front of her resumed forward momentum and the Korun simply followed with her gaze transfixed firmly ahead. Curiosity growing by leaps and bounds, Kai felt as if she were jumping out of her skin, eager to reach the top of their steep ascent. Her footsteps halted in tandem with the guide and she stood beside the shadowy figure who seemed intensely focused upon the wall of green that blocked further entry. Expecting to see some sort of a building upon arrival, Kai hid her confusion under a mask of indifference. Patient to the last, she now waited to see what would happen next. As the two of them paused, Kai could feel a distinct shiver of cold -- no, dread -- ripple up and down her spine. Was this some kind of test? Before she could voice the thought, Kai saw the vines and branches recede as if recognizing their visitors upon arrival. Whether through some magic, trickery or physical means, there was an entrance concealed beneath all the greenery and shadow, both of which had lifted away as if by some unheard command. Swallowing hard, Kai waited for the scout to step forward before she did. A current of cold air blasted through her as soon as she moved on, causing her to shiver uncontrollably. Somehow it had found a way through all the layers of clothing she wore, and Kai found the sensation quite unsettling. Distracting and unexpected, it made the Korun focus on it, rather than her new setting. Come to think of it, she did not even remember stepping through an entrance, or what it would have looked like. Kriff. Kriff. Kriff. Noting now that she could see nothing except walls of darkness surrounding her in a large foyer that was the largest she had ever laid eyes upon, Kai faltered in her steps and waited for her eyes to adjust to the absence of light within. Remembering the light-stick in her pack, Kai swung it off her shoulder and dug out the rod, turning it on. The portable device was not overly powerful, but it was capable of illuminating a meter or so, all around her. Obsidian stone below her feet, above her and all around her, and not a sign of another living being present. Her guide had disappeared, or was that another illusion to test her? Increasingly frustrated and confused, the Korun took a small step forward and then another, hearing the echo of her own footfalls being the lone sound in an otherwise barren chamber. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” Calling out into an empty twilight, Kai found herself shrinking inside in spite of wanting very much to ignore the feeling of uneasiness that sought out every inch of her body. For the time being, there was no response, save the echo of her own anxious voice. She was alone.
  20. Thread title: A little activity is not bad for anyone. Location: Dantooine Enclave, Training fields. Open to: basically anyone on the enclave Thread: Kale Sarkan decided to train with his lightsaber to burn off some adrenaline. Goal: To hang out and interact with the Jedi´s outside of the usual Hanging out casual conversation.
  21. It had been a while now since he arrived to Dantooine from Coruscant and Kale soon found out that the place was quite boring compared to the city planet. There wasn´t a lot to do outside the enclave and, being the active young man he was, that didn´t suit him well enough, so he was most likely focusing on his training, work out and other physical stuff to try and at least keep his body working and burn some adrenaline. He wished he knew more people there to hang out with there, but for now that was the only thing he could occupy himself with. He stepped into one of the training rooms in the enclave, and took off the top part of his robes, dressing only with a sleeveless T-Shirt he was wearing underneath. IT was always very hot in those rooms and he didn´t want to wash his robes again. He pushed a few buttons in the control panel to activate three training balls, or robots. He didn´t know the exact name but he liked to call hem the training balls. They were devices with sphere form, which floated in the air and had various holes in their structure, where they shoot low power lasers from. He cracked his neck then and stretched a little, to make sure his muscles were not going to get damaged from the exercise and took his training lightsaber form his belt just before activating it, making the laser blade come to life with a sparkling green color. He twisted it in his hand and the weapon made it´s signature noise before Kale took the Sii-Cho stance, ready to try and deflect everything the training balls threw at him, he started moving smoothly, trying to connect with the force around him to guide his actions.
  22. One Ping Only

    (late Elona, 3630) One could picture it. An entirely black holovid screen met was suddenly blasted by a field of stars and a boom of orchestral music as an opening credits scroll crawled into view. That scroll had read something about an Episode, and something about the Sith Empire having fallen to the daring (and lucky) Jedi-aided Republic. The homeworld of Dromund Kaas had been the target, and the Empire had retreated to make a final stand at the battlestation, Bastion. But the republic continued their push, not willing to allow the massive Empire to regroup and return. In a final blow that caused self-inflicted harm to the majority of the remaining Republic capitol ships (or because the Empire rigged the battlestation to self-destruct), the massive explosion that shook the sector dispersed the Empire once and for all. The Republic had won, at last. Or had they? In the months that followed, rumor (and then intelligence) revealed that some Sith escaped the massacre and scattered to the galaxy. So too did some key members of the Empire who might one day regroup with other elements and attempt a return to power. The Republic had exhausted almost all of their reserves in their victory, and couldn't maintain the push to chase down so many scattered bits of their enemies, so they focused efforts on rebuilding their Republic, a governing body, and a coalition of allied planets. The Hutts still ruled their parts of space, as did the Mandalorians, and some similarly powered groups like Czerka and the wealthy houses of Alderaanian nobility. And with the vacancy of the Empire's control over all that they'd held, there would be a jockeying for power as all of those representative groups rushed to fill the void. Meanwhile, the Jedi had dispersed - many were lost in the strike on their ancient enemies, and those remaining were split between guiding the Republic and hunting down the scattered remnants of Sith. Surely, they were a house, divided. The scroll faded, leaving more questions than answers, and this starry night sky began to shift, as if the camera was refocusing its lens on some other part of the galaxy. The music faded too, growing softer and softer with each passing measure. A floutist's single instrument sang a song, and then drew silent as low string bass notes turned mechanical - the sound of a massive starship's engines. Those engines grew louder, testing the audio equipment of the viewer, and then the nose of the starship came into view from the top of the screen - a forced-perspective shot that would likely see a huge capitol ship heading for a vanishing point somewhere far ahead, and in the middle of the field of view. But only a few seconds into its slow entry, the back of the ship also came into view, revealing a much, much smaller ship than perhaps was anticipated. It was indeed a Fury Class fighter ship, but an older one, and it showed signs of battles both recent and ancient. It had been in space a while, that was certain. As the ship came fully into view, another soundtrack came on. This one was classic, known the galaxy-wide - and perhaps even beyond - as simply the Imperial March. It's measured cadence was matched by a pair of black boots on durasteel plated floor. The boots, like the ship, were well-worn. They were black, functional, military-issue, and designed for purpose less than comfort. They rapped the steel along with the beat of the music, and one could picture this going on for some time: Bum, bum, bum, bum-da dum, bum-da bum... bum, bum, bum... But they ended there as the person in the boots came to a stop. The ship simply wasn't as large as the original track was meant to play. He only had to walk twelve paces from the hall outside the bridge to the copilot's seat, after all. The person's black half-robe, belted at the waist, came to rest a second afterwards, as if it wanted to keep right on walking. The figure sat down there. It was a Zabrak, as his horned head revealed, and an older one too, given that some of the horns were broken or worn - or both. The wrinkles on his skin would have been another sign, had they not been well-masked with numerous black tattoos that stood in stark contrast against the dusky violet hue of his skin. Those tattoos covered wrinkles, yes, but burns and scars too - wounds both new and old - both on the surface, and beneath. They especially hid the signs of the Dark Side's influence. He was a Sith, after all, and a Darth. His identity became clear when the person in the pilot's seat - a nondescript sort of fellow who looked like he had experience - addressed him. "Darth Verrin. Please... will you explain why we're here? You're not exactly known as a man with wanderlust, especially in these times." The Zabrak didn't turn to face the man, but sat back in the copilot's seat and looked out at the space beyond them both. He did answer though. "I don't suppose needing a breath of air would satisfy you, would it?" He paused for a couple of breaths. "No, I suppose it wouldn't." He went on, "We've been cooped up in our hideout for a while now... what has it been? Six months? A year? When did we last see the Sith'ari? Another Darth? I know there were at least a half dozen of us that escaped Bastion. Well... maybe... there's Tanit, for sure, and Renatus. And I believe Darth Sanguira was accounted for, and Vowrawn too. Akasha, maybe. All have grown silent. I sent a message out two weeks ago, and heard nothing back - nothing of their deaths or disappearances... nothing at all. Have the Jedi been systematically hunting them all down, one by one? You'd think some of those fights might leave a mark in intelligence organizations - that some flunky, even, would know SOMEthing of their masters. And I'd search through the Force, but the very cloak of protection that the planet we reside on provides us, also restricts my ability to see outside of it. I couldn't detect their signatures from the planet's surface. And as long as I was going to leave it to do that, I figured we might as well make a little trip to use more mundane methods of intelligence gathering. So that's why we're here, near Nar Shadaa. I brought a couple of operatives who will go in and feel out the locals, hire mercs or bounty hunters if necessary. We'll see how it goes. And Force willing, we'll also be able to buy some damned coffee." Darth Verrin did like his coffee - a particular vanilla flavored brew, to be more exact. His apprentice, Holle, had been working a deal with a native tribe on Dathomir for coffee production, but it was slow-going, and didn't promise that vanilla flavor he'd grown to love. He was a quirky Sith, one could say - and many had, over the years he'd served. But many of those Sith were dead and gone. He was still here. "So what's with the masked guys then?" The pilot asked. "They kind of creep me out." Verrin replied, "Ahh - the Guardians. They are a particular order even among the Sith. Their long-running oath is to protect the Sith Library and its contents. As both their leader, and the Librarian, I apparently fall under that oath, and so they protect me too." "There's only six - what if we run into trouble?" The pilot asked. "I've never needed more than six... and seldom travel with less. Plus, we're kind of restricted in room on this thing. It's not like my beloved capitol ship, the Spectre (lost during the attack on Dromund Kaas and Bastion). But... if you think they aren't enough, then I suppose we're helpless, right?" A tiny trickle of lightning flowed between the fingertips of one of Verrin's upheld hands, illuminating their faces in an eerie, flickering light. The pilot didn't deign to answer this time.
  23. A Lack of Meditation

    Mirran decided today to devote herself to pure meditation. She looked contemplative as she went out of the Enclave. She shivered a bit, there was a bit of a chill in the air and she pulled her robes closer to her. She tried to sit down to begin meditation but a gust of wind blew through the fields of Dantooine. And then the clouds rolled in and a light drizzle started coming in. So much for trying to meditate. The rain began to slowly stop being a drizzle and began to come down pouring down. Mirran sighed, so much for trying to connect with the Force through the planet itself. She was thoroughly becoming soaked and so she suddenly began to retreat from the fields and to the inner part of the Enclave. She muttered more to herself. "It would have to rain...."
  24. Quiet Time

    (Melona 15, 3630) It was a time of peace and quiet, which if one is a Sith, one knows to be a lie. But there was no denying the peace-like feeling that had descended upon the Academy. Oh sure, there were still students practicing their arts - whether they were martial, mental, or otherwise. Academics still hit the Library with some gusto, and the more physical types still hacked apart training droids - and sometimes each other. But by and large, there was little going on that was extraordinary - at least, not that was seen by the ever-watchful eyes of the Academy Overseers. And certainly, they were reporting nothing to the Academy's Head Overseer, Darth Verrin. Verrin had his own projects and research to attend to. His former apprentice turned peer, Darth Tanit wanted to craft a unique Sith weapon. She'd approached him regarding that task, even after learning the arts of Sith Alchemy herself. Perhaps she wasn't confident in her own abilities, or perhaps she wasn't ready to pay the price for the power. But more likely, she was working to acquire the ingredients that would go into the physical blade. Verrin's job was to find the non-physical ingredients - the sorcery of the procedure, the Force-reliant techniques, and perhaps most importantly - the safeguards to protect him from Tanit, should they either fail to craft her desires, or worse - succeed in the crafting, only to have her 'try it out' upon him. He'd already delved through every tome the Library possessed on the matter. He'd already crafted a few items himself. He'd already consulted the holocron of Bo Vanda once more, looking for loopholes and potential mistakes to be avoided. He'd even consulted XoXann's 'cron again - though the spirit within it still despised him for keeping her. One day, he knew, she would find a way out of the Library and into the galaxy once more. But that day wasn't here... yet. He was running out of ideas. He knew that he and Tanit could both craft the weapon she wanted. He knew what it would take, how long, and the costs. That was all mundane, and mechanical, even though a good portion of it was manipulation of the Force. So now he was simply looking for the holes - the gaps between the points of interest - the places where things could go terribly, terribly wrong. Verrin had made that mistake once before in his life, and that memory led him to enter the holocron vault once more. There, he passed by Bo Vanda, and XoXann, he walked past others, and finally arrived at a plain-looking pedestal. Upon the pillar sat a holocron - this one was empty, and dead. But it had once housed the Dark Spirit known simply as Eris. Eris was the stuff of nightmare - the un-living embodiment of the Dark Side. She was a spirit who had haunted him since his first year among the Sith, once he'd woken to the fact that there was a Force, at all - and more particularly, the Dark Side of it. She had tempted and taunted him, year after year, and many Sith simply thought Verrin had gone insane, because the spirit only showed herself to him. They were wrong, of course, and some select Sith learned that lesson the hard way. Every couple of years, the planets and systems of the galaxy came into some kind of alignment, and the veil between the Dark Side and the 'living world' weakened - allowing Eris to step through. She struck hard, time and again, until one year, Verrin grew powerful enough, smart enough, and resilient enough... to trap her within this very holocron. It didn't stop there though. He'd gone further. He sought the power of life beyond death for his daughter who had been kidnapped as a child by the Sith, and then slain in young-adulthood by Jedi. He wanted to bring her back from the Force - to obtain her spirit there, and put it back in her body here. He'd preserved her corpse for years, preparing, finding ways to do what he needed to - and then he figured it all out. The ritual required immense power - more than he possessed, certainly. He spent a couple of years having one of his apprentices - Cimoreine - prepare the corpse of his daughter with ritual markings through the use of a tattoo-gun. That gun had needles that he had crafted with the same Sith Alchemy he intended to use for Tanit. And his apprentice had a bizarre connection to the Dark Side, able to tattoo her prophetic visions into flesh. Once the corpse was ready, he'd had his apprentice do the same to him - preparing his body to be a vessel, a living holocron, to hold the spirit of Eris. Eris would be his power source. But once he transferred her from her 'cron into himself, he learned that she needed a font of power herself - to tap into the direct flow of the Dark Side. He'd taken himself, and his daughter's body, to Nogatan - beneath the Library there, and into the source of Dark Side power there that was known simply as 'the Maw'. And there, his mind 'saw' things in the Force - frightening things - huge, tentacled monsters whose footfalls would have crushed buildings - nay, blocks of buildings. But Eris had bolstered him, allowing him avoid becoming a babbling fool, before his brain melted to mush and he became part of the very substance he was trying to tap into. He went on to draw his ritual circle, he'd placed his daughter within it, and then he and Eris had begun. Their chanting attracted the attention of one of the Maw's denizens - a Dark Side abomination that could only be described as an amalgam of body parts. It possessed hundreds of mouths, and just as many eyes and ears. It lashed out at them, but could not break the protective barrier of the circle. So it broke a piece of the ceiling away, and Verrin had to dodge the falling debris to survive. He did, but once outside the protection, the monster had slammed him with a terrible appendage, knocking him into a wall. And that... that was where the 'hole' or 'gap' in Verrin's plan revealed itself. He had protected himself from Eris by making his own body a ritual holocron. He hadn't accounted for the fact that by being struck, the ritual markings on his flesh could be broken - and Eris could escape his hold. She freed herself from him, entering his daughter's body, and in the end, he'd been forced to kill the very vessel he'd saved. Nobody witnessed that event - except Eris, of course - but Verrin had returned from that trip a changed man. He'd grown distant and angry, and it took many weeks before he could fully return to his duties. He didn't want to make that mistake again - the simple failure to see where so many things could go wrong. Some time later, Verrin was back in his office, the memory of his own failure as sharp in his mind as the weeks that had followed it. He would be ready this time. This time would be different.
  25. How To Deal With Fleas

    7th Melona , 3630 BBY Dathomir- Force only knew why they'd chosen such a planet for their new base of operations, but Corvus wasn't in any position to complain. While he was asleep the galaxy had continued to move, and the gears of war continued to turn; what was once Jedi now being replaced with an insufferable infestation of local wildlife. Well, if it were simple animals it would've been an easy enough problem to deal with; eventually they'd learn to stay far away from their domain for their own sake; but, some people believed it best to make deals with the Natives. To try and understand them, to.. negotiate with them, if that were even possible. An optimistic outlook, though most likely not the eventual outcome. There were very few able bodied individuals remaining who'd be able to carry out such a feat to the T; it would most likely end as all deals he'd seen with them did. Bloodshed. Corvus sat at the head of a table, a simple one that could seat a considerable amount of people lengthwise. His hands rested on the tabletop folded over one another, and he seemed to aimlessly look around the library as he waited for things and people to settle down and in. While he hadn't made it an announcement of any sort, he felt a need to bring together like minded individuals to discuss the current state of events concerning Dathomir's 'wildlife' and what they'd planned to do about it, if they planned anything at all and what their thoughts and opinions on the matter were. All bonuses in reality, as the Echani had a much more important intention in mind: Teaching them. The Sith who believed in power over all else would see the folly in their arrogance, while the peaceful and loving of the bunch might turn to face reality. It was truth that there could be war with the Natives. Pitiful, laughable truth; but that didn't make it any less of a truth. Their influence and power had waned considerably since he was last awake, and it tore at him to see the Sith fractured, fighting and screaming at one another rather than unifying to face a common goal. If things continued, if all of them wanted to torture one another and push each other to the brink of death 'just because'.. Dathomir would be their grave. The legacy would come to an end for them, and they'd be renowned for being a kingdom that ultimately fell to savages. So a notice was placed in the training pits, of all places, that a debate would be taking place in a public part of the Sith Library. It stated that age, rank and origin did not mattered; and that you were only asked to come with your thoughts and opinions on the current state of affairs concerning Dathomir and what was happening between the Overseers, acolytes, apprentices and even Darths. It was a ballsy proposition, but not one the likes of being labeled heresy; for the one who held the small conference of people was none other than what some would no doubt consider a loyal pawn to their King. Corvus picked up a tablet off the table and became immersed with it as he waited, prompting anyone that may approach to sit at any of the available chairs if they so willed it until things settled down. Each person would notice several distinct objects laid out on the surface of the table; holopads that looked exactly like the one Corvus read, each containing a series of entries on things ranging from Stratagem to Maneuvering, though none of it would have any context for a person inquisitive enough to take a look through it in advance. All would be clear in time though- as soon as the small gathering began.