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Post by trentongordon on Feb 6, 2018 0:32:23 GMT -5
IC: Reaper Location: Nar Shaddaa When Kubjo had sent a jolt of electricity down Reaper's arm he simply took it feeling little more than his arm going numb. Once the droid had finished translating Reaper could barely believe he had translated correctly. "You mean I can have one thing from this vault? No strings attached? And all I have to do is complete this task?" He looked at everything and smiled under his helm. He first looked at the armor's. He saw a Dark Trooper Phase III suit and thought he had his own suit already. He then looked at the Mandalorian armor and wondered, imagined himself wearing it, he decided that'd be a dishonor to their culture having not earned it by combat. He then looked at the Voodun Crab Armor and scoffed to himself. It was useless in it's current condition, deceased. Reaper then turned to the weapons and a tear caught in his eye making his green eyes glisten and shine like an emerald when it caught the light. He saw various and an innumerable amount of melee weapons, he cast his gaze across the sea of them and his eyes caught the Lanvaroks. He saw both variants but his gaze carried on, he might make one for himself in the future if he got his hands on one. His eyes moved across the priceless, and expensive items altogether searching. He saw the lightsabers but looked down at his own. He looked back up and moved on, he couldn't take something like that, you needed to either make it or earn it, not just find it and take it that didn't make it special nor would it truly be his. He looked at the ships and now a single tear fell from each eye. So beautiful, magnificent beauties. Not many knew their value nor did many hold his love of ships, swords and blasters but man he could tell by the look of them they were in mint condition. He stride across the vault to touch them, he took his gauntlets off and felt the cold smooth metal of the ships under his fingertips, he closed his eyes and felt for a connection. Ships to him were different, many hummed, many purred but all could feel. He could feel them when he flew one. Like magic, he knew their names, their true names. He stopped when he got to the TIE Hunter. He took one glance back at the holocron thinking of its priceless value but then back at the TIE Hunter. He wanted both. He wanted everything in the vault but he could only have one. He walked back to Kubjo and pointed at the TIE Hunter. "I'll take the ship. Thank you." He looked at Corvar then and had noticed he'd ignored him entirely. "Oh yes. I'll take the Jedi. Might check Ossus to be sure then head to Coruscant. We can meet at the monolith if neither of us finds it or any leads." Tag: Darth Catalyst, darthkain7 |
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Feb 6, 2018 6:49:48 GMT -5
IC: Shado VaoOutside Jedi Praxeum, Yavin IVIndividually, Rhaneris' and Jarich's strategies were beyond sound. In combination, the Force seemed intent to ruin the devisements of their cunning, as if it were some cruel god ensuring things did not work out in their favour. The hulking beast felt the impact of the rock hurled at its side, and instinctively turned to face what it imagined to be a new attacker. The effect was that the beam of plasma merely scorched a line across its flesh, near the tiny hole of its ear, the Terentatek's forward-facing eyes safely diverted away. Being alchemically reinforced, the skin was resistant to the point that the inflicted wound was shallow, but still painful enough for the Terentatek to swing its head around the other way, its tusk threatening to gore Jarich in mid-air. "Stop, it's distracted!" Shado Vao shouted towards Rhaneris, appreciative of her attempting to lure the beast as he had been, but understanding the futility of such when it still had live Jedi prey to contend with. The Terentatek could not sense the cloaked signature of Gis'pefu, but Shado could, and so he gave the young Jedi a telepathic nudge as he spoke aloud, indicating Vao was not only speaking to Rhaneris. "Jarich's rashness forces us to attack it head-on! Or in your case, you, the stealthy one, from behind." The cobalt-skinned Twi'lek traded a glance with Rhaneris, a cool fire in his eyes. "I am the more powerful, so the Sithspawn will focus on me. You get between its legs and go for the underbelly." Shado was not entirely sure whether the skin there was soft or not, and indeed due to its great size and bipedal stance he found it unlikely it had evolved so, but it was worth trying. Both azure blades of his lightsaber ignited, Shado charged the Terentatek, swinging his foremost blade towards the beast's left arm. His strike connected - but the arm was not severed. The weaker grip of a double-bladed lightsaber simply prevented one from swinging it with the strength behind a claymore, and so the blade had bit only one inch into the Terentatek's reinforced flesh, and Shado had no time to react before the Terentatek sent him flying with its right hand. With an oomph, Shado Vao landed against the wall of the Praxeum, his weapon slipping from his stunned grasp. TAG: rhaneris, darthramage, @patrick31x
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248 
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Feb 7, 2018 1:41:53 GMT -5
IC Kubjo the HuttKubjo's Space Station, Nar Shaddaa Kubjo was almost taken aback by Reaper’s decision. Indeed the TIE Hunter was certainly a strong and fast ship, rumored to be one of the fastest that Sienar Fleet Systems had produced, but it was certainly not valuable compared to some of the other items that were being offered. This mattered little to Kubjo. It would still be an easy piece to reaquire, or he could even commission a new one built. Corvar on the other hand had not made a decision. Kubjo respected his focus on the task that was presented before him. Easily, he could tell more about each man’s character than he had known mere minutes ago. “ Ah ma bukees,” Kubjo beamed with a broad smile. “ Bargon yanah coto da eetha.” “Mighty Kubjo wishes to compliment you on your eagerness to help him, but he feels that your skills would better be utilized working together.” D-3PO translated. The droid turned to Reaper. “Mighty Kubjo will honor your request and have the Hunter moved to a hangar for you. Unfortunately as the ship does not have the cargo space to carry many consumables, Kubjo fears you would be stranded shortly after your departure. He will have an armed shuttle prepared for the both of you and will be sending a personal representative along to pilot the ship so that you may keep him updated on your progress at your leisure.” D-3PO turned back to Corvar. “Now, since Mister Reaper has chosen his parting gift, I would suppose it is your turn to do the same Mister Corvar.” Kubjo smiled, more to himself than Corvar or Reaper. He wondered silently how his longtime rival Grakkus would compete with his two new Force Sensitive associates. The old slug was once what he himself had aspired to be. But now, Grakkus had become fat and lazy, only kept mobile by the disgusting ambulatory cybernetics that he touted above other Hutts in his circle. Perhaps when Reaper and Corvar returned with the sword, he would have them assassinate the fat worm so that he could take Grakkus’s citadel. TAG: darthkain7, trentongordon,
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Feb 8, 2018 7:41:35 GMT -5
IC: Darth ApollyonSinking Room, Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban Apollyon felt a hand squeeze her buttocks as she departed Catalyst's side, prompting a swift turn towards him before she awkwardly stopped 90 degrees through, realising the heat in her cheeks would instantly reveal just what a mortifying effect was consequent. Instead, she pretended to merely look over towards the grate, furtively glancing over at the only one responsible. Catalyst was feigning innocence, staring in the same direction, and briefly Apollyon wondered if Xirr had performed the deed telekinetically as some sort of practical joke, but not even their brotherly competition would account for such audacity. No, it was surely Catalyst. But it was harder to discipline him that she'd hoped. It was wildly inappropriate, and honestly he deserved death for touching the Emperor's Hand in such a manner, but Apollyon found it altogether difficult to voice complaint. Force, it's so embarrassing! If she vocalised her thoughts, everyone would look at her. Everyone would laugh. No one seemed to have noticed; it was surely better to keep it that way. But then again... She couldn't deny she had rather enjoyed the gesture. There was some sort of courage about Catalyst that was just... Well, what was it? It was difficult to admit it to herself, even in her head. Attractive.Flirtation perhaps called for flirtation. But just as Apollyon drew breath to speak, Catalyst began talking, sneering at the Gen'Dai's plight and suggesting something rather radical. She had missed her moment. She briefly contemplated speaking in the silence after Catalyst had finished, but the Sith Lord's attention was already focused on the grate, and then Jania Kio pulled her training hilt to her hand and all thoughts of witty comeback fled from Apollyon's mind. The Sith Master was so taken aback by Jania's feat of telekinesis that she scarcely registered Catalyst attempting to enact his unconventional solution to the Gen'Dai's ensnarement. Her eyes widened - then narrowed. It was suddenly obvious. Lord Dreadwar always told her, to fathom a strange plot, look at the results, and see who benefited. That bit of wisdom may have been specifically applicable to understanding complex, multi-layered schemes involving multiple agents, but there was no reason, in Apollyon's mind, it couldn't apply to any strange happening. Jania's impossible feat could only mean one thing. She was more powerful than she looked; she had possessed mastery of the Force the entire time. And was strong enough to conceal it. That was the more frightening thought. This ostensibly untrained peon had somehow been able to completely conceal her strength in the Force from Apollyon's most discerning senses. The possibility of a Jedi infiltrator came to mind, but then that raised the question of why Jania had so openly revealed her power now. A Sith Master? A Sith spirit?Aside from the fact this hidden power now explained her brazen confidence in confronting her ostensible superiors, it didn't make sense. The easiest thing would simply be to ask. But given that Jania had hidden her power, exposing her deception might not be the best course of action, if Jania had merely unthinkingly slipped in her guise in the confusion of her awakening. No, Apollyon would keep a close watch on her, but she would not confront the supposed neophyte unless necessary. And if Jania did turn out to be some Jedi Master in disguise or some foul ghast of Korriban that had taken the form of this young acolyte, Apollyon would be ready with a surprise up her sleeve. Apollyon was pulled from her musings by the loud complaints of the Gen'Dai below. She could see his predicament; Catalyst was violently pulling him against the grate with the full might of his telekinesis, the Gen'Dai's exposed flesh bulging through the gaps in the grate. Clearly Catalyst's intent was to pull the regenerative being through the grate, but the Gen'Dai was refusing to exploit the suppleness of his biology to squeeze out of his armour. Apollyon found herself agreeing with Scionica's assessment. Womp-rat."Oh, for Emperor's sake," Apollyon said, "let Catalyst here turn you into grated Gen'Dai or stay and go moldy down there." Catalyst's plan was a good one, saving time and utilising the Gen'Dai's regenerative ability, and with that superior plan in motion Apollyon found the notion of wasting effort on pulling the grate itself off tedious and pointless. "Come along, ah..." Apollyon cast about, considering, and then suddenly the thought came to her. "You go ahead, Jania," she smiled politely. "We'll go into this passage without the fussy, fusty hunk of cheese. I'll be behind you. Watch your head!" Apollyon turned, nodding towards the twins, Robyn and Xirr, bidding them to follow her, before her onyx eyes found Catalyst. "Oh, and you, Lord Catalyst," she smiled pleasantly, "watch your hand - or perhaps watch my arse, but please," the smile turned coy, "I am an artifact from 4,000 years ago. Look but don't touch." Briefly, Apollyon considered that her words might lead her team to conclude she was ancient as Dreadwar, but no; rather like Catalyst, only in a more extreme fashion, Apollyon was merely a young Sith who had essentially travelled through time. Catalyst had passed a century in carbonite, and Apollyon had been caught on Nilrebmah when Dreadwar catapulted the world into the future through use of his Darkstaff. Apollyon moved to turn back towards the passageway, and the entranced visage of Darth Viscretus caught her eye. The blonde witch's eyes were still glazed, she had still barely moved, and not one word had passed her lips, although Apollyon could swear she had seen her friend silently mouthing. If it was a vision as she had initially suspected, it should have passed by now. Frowning, Apollyon placed a hand on the taller lady's shoulder as she moved to walk past her towards the beckoning passageway. "Are you alright, my friend? " TAG: @volshe, Shira, Darth Catalyst, Padawan4687, @lordjania, dice, gorzan
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Feb 8, 2018 8:04:49 GMT -5
IC: UnknownEldritch tunnel, Beyond Shadows Ramage's efforts at defense and offense both paid off. While he had no way of knowing such a thing, the eerily animated blood of the creature was vulnerable only to acid and incineration, and so the scorching shield of lightning successfully evaporated every droplet flying towards Ramage. The monster whipped around and charged its quarry, but not even its unnatural speed could cross Ramage's barrier before the tunnel was brought down on its head. A squeal barely made it over the furious crackling of Ramage's lightning, and by the time the shield winked out only a wall of rubble would be visible in front of Ramage, the abomination entirely buried. Entombed? Difficult to tell. The monster had no discernible signature in the Force. But seconds would pass without any disruption in the pile of dark glass, other than some shards gently sliding and shifting into the natural positions gravity and momentum dictated. The monster was defeated. But in so doing, Ramage had sealed himself inside the tunnel. The previous dim light of the realm of shadows had winked out entirely; there was only a claustrophobic, circular tunnel of a strange reflective material, Ramage's lightsaber and its infinite reflections providing the only light with which Ramage could see. Unless he dared remove the rubble, he would have to proceed into the tunnel whence the monster had come, around the bend and into the unknown. And now that he was sealed within the tunnel, there was an unmistakable scent emanating from deeper within the blackness. Burning. "A little lost, Jen'jidai?" The unmistakable sound of a woman's voice came from just over his shoulder. But if Ramage were to turn, he would see no one. A soft laugh echoed in the dark. "No, no, you can't see me, silly boy. I am everywhere." TAG: darthramage
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Feb 8, 2018 8:21:17 GMT -5
IC: Ermir MarcusMurder scene, Sith Temple, KorribanErmir frowned. "I don't care for your tone, you putrid dung beetle," he said in an almost bored voice, folding his arms over his chest while looking up at the ceiling. His mind seemed to wander for a second, before his beady eyes returned to lock with Arcane's own. "I do need you for something," he said unwaveringly. "I need your help to explore whatever lies beyond that," the white sleeve of his coat raised as he pointed towards the mysterious hole, "and I need to know you're smarter than you look, since I doubt you have nine lives." Ermir smiled thinly. "So, go on, solve the murder," he said. "Here we are, at the brim of a strange nexus of dark side energy beneath the Temple, next to a hole the workmen had just opened - a hole through which you can see something rather interesting, although I'll get to that in a minute. After making this discovery, one workman inexplicably kills his close colleagues." The smile grew. "I promise you, you'll find nothing in the belongings. I already checked. But just from what you know, from what you feel," Ermir shuddered, sensing the violent energy whipping around him invisibly, "what do you conclude?" TAG: Arcane
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darthramage
Citizen
*currently entombed*
Posts: 33
Likes: 39
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Post by darthramage on Feb 8, 2018 10:16:53 GMT -5
IC: (vote for)DARTH RAMAGE
Beyond Shadows"..I am everywhere" The last words of the disembodied voice lingered in Ramage's mind. Confident in the defeat of his foe, Ramage turned his senses to the corridor before him. The burning smell from before had only grown stronger, though it was still quite faint as Ramage used the light from his blade to inspect the smooth black stone walls. "No other exits.. blast." The newly dubbed Jen'jidai thought silently to himself. " Who addresses me in the ancient tongue!? I am no Dark Jedi, I am Sith" Ramage said into the void, adding obvious venom to the statement, offended by the notion that a Dark Lord would be confused for some ostracized knight. Hearing no immediate answer, Ramage again drew a small shape in the air with the tip of his wand while muttering a strange acerbic dialect. A small prism formed in the air energized with the dark side and ebbing with a powerful blue-white light. Directing the wand towards the open end of the cavern, the construct of darklight followed his gesture and raced down the hallway illuminating the path before Ramage. "I would know your name, specter," Ramage spoke aloud as he raced several meters behind his light source. "Are you another Shepard? I wish to return to the Pool of Knowledge. I must find a way to escape this realm."
Darth Dreadwar,
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Post by darthkain7 on Feb 8, 2018 11:52:14 GMT -5
IC: Darth Kain Location: Nar Shaddaa Corvar nodded once the protocol droid said it was time for him to decide what he'd want from this vault. But rather than studying the objects in the room any further, for he had already made note of his surroundings, he turned towards Kubjo. "Your offer is generous, Kubjo, and I wouldn't dare refuse it. But I do not want any items you have, beyond one. I mentioned it before, but you haven't given me an answer on a partnership. An answer on that is all I need from you, in this vault. Beyond that, I only aim to aid you in acquiring this sword." TAGS: Darth Catalyst trentongordon TAGSET: Corbos |
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Feb 8, 2018 15:10:24 GMT -5
IC Lord Catalyst Beneath Sadow's Tomb, Korriban
Catalyst couldn’t help but smirk at Apollyon. He could tell that he had crossed the line but she couldn't do much about it without drawing more attention to herself. Instead, she displayed agreement to his solution for the stuck Acolyte. The dismissive tones of the Assassins in regards to the trapped Gen'Dai further bolstered his ego at his decision. The Gen’Dai of course seemed less than pliant but he would soon learn his place among Masters. Instead of helping the trapped acolyte further, Catalyst casually used the Force to ensure the grate was rendered immobile by his telekinetic grasp. “Come now, Gen’Dai,” he mocked through the bars. “A solution has been presented to you. It would be most unwise to shirk this opportunity at salvation.” He began walking towards the tunnel, keeping his pressure firm on the grate. “Unless, perhaps, you feel you are being treated unfairly? Please,” Catalyst turned back to look at the Acolyte as he hung, helpless and at the Lord's mercy, “direct your complaints to me. I’m ever so eager to hear yet another imbecilic argument today.” His voice dripped absolute sarcasm and malice.
After dealing with Xirr, who was at least proving able to learn the fine art of wordplay, and the now hopefully deceased Coatlec for the past few hours, Catalyst was not looking forward to having to adjust to yet another unwanted addition to their party. This Gen’Dai did not seem to hold intellectual promise either. He had been stuck here for who knows how long and expected to be saved on the whims of any who came by. Apollyon had suggested saving him though and Catalyst decided it was likely healthier for him, and his poor Phantom, to be on her good side. He let Apollyon and Jania lead the way, taking note of the newfound confidence that seemed to be radiating from the Apprentice. He had been less than surprised when she pulled her hilt to her hand. That was something that he himself was doing regularly at that age. He expected nothing less of the other students. What did surprise him was the lack of flirtation coming from the girl. She seemed to be taking things more seriously since her brush with death courtesy of Viscretus. He glanced at her briefly. It looked like she wasn’t fully present either, like her mind was occupied somewhere else. He had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Apollyon was already urging Jania down the cave, but Catalyst wanted to stay behind and see just how the Gen’Dai extricated himself from his cage. It would amuse him greatly. Apollyon’s voice drew his attention though. "Lord Catalyst," she smiled pleasantly, "watch your hand - or perhaps watch my arse, but please," the smile turned coy, "I am an artifact from 4,000 years ago. Look but don't touch."
Catalyst was a little taken aback by this response, but played it as smoothly as he could. "An artifact huh?" he queried with a smirk. "One does not gain such a legendary status without being exceptional in some form. I'm afraid I will require more direct appraisal before I can grant you the title of artifact." He turned his attention back to the grate, directing a final quip her way. "Besides you hardly look the part of an ancient relic. Forgive me for not noticing."
TAG: Darth Dreadwar ,Volshe ,Shira ,Padawan4687 ,dice ,gorzan ,@lordjania |
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Feb 9, 2018 1:10:15 GMT -5
IC: Darth ApollyonSpike Pit Chamber, Tomb of Naga Sadow, KorribanApollyon's gaze lingered on her friend for a moment longer, noting Viscretus' inexpressive - and thus far irresponsive - face. A smirk tugged at Apollyon's lips as Catalyst escalated his flirtation. "I'm exceptional, my dear Catalyst," Apollyon said, turning her head slightly but not turning around to look at him, instead remaining gazing at Viscretus, "because I am the Emperor's Hand. And this hand doesn't grab arses." The image of the Emperor squeezing her arse flashed in her mind, briefly, only tangentially related to her jesting metaphor, but she quickly put away such blasphemous imaginings. The Emperor was a god, beyond the follies of the flesh; it was sacrilegious to think of him in any profane manner, as strangely if momentarily pleasing as the thought had been. TAG: Darth Catalyst, Tomb tags
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dice
Citizen
Posts: 84
Likes: 65
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Post by dice on Feb 9, 2018 1:16:27 GMT -5
Ic: Darth XirrCatacombs beneath Sadow's Tomb, Korriban Xirr stood in the middle of the room after reciting his answer to the mental voice's query. When the room began it's decent Xirr let out a sigh of relief. Xirr quite obviously was not confident in his historical recollection skills. Though as one problem was resolved, another presented itself. Through the grate that separated the party from a horrible fate at the hands of the spike pit below came another weak groan. Upon further investigation, it was revealed to be a man garbed in neophyte's robes impaled upon one of the spikes in the pit, somehow still with enough life in him to call for help from the group. "Let's not waste our manpower on this fool." Catalyst called out "I think we'll do fine without removing the floor." He continued before telekinetically removing the form from the spikes and attempting to force it through the grate. To no avail. "Oh, for Emperor's sake," Apollyon said, "let Catalyst here turn you into grated Gen'Dai or stay and go moldy down there." She then looked to Xirr and the others, beckoning them to follow her, as she did, she looked coyly to Catalyst and spoke "Oh, and you, Lord Catalyst," she smiled pleasantly, "watch your hand - or perhaps watch my arse, but please," the smile turned coy, "I am an artifact from 4,000 years ago. Look but don't touch." Four thousand years ago? Xirr thought. What trickery is Appolyon employing to mask her true age? He shook his head, dismissing the problem, for now it wasn't important.
As Xirr moved to follow Appolyon into the corridor that led away from the room, he looked back to Catalyst giving a knowing nod accompanied by a two-fingered salute. He had made a bold move in so overtly flirting with Appolyon, but it seemingly paid off for him, Xirr respected that, perhaps he would employ some of Catalyst's techniques himself... Another time Xirr thought But not now. He turned back to Appolyon and the others and continued into the corridor, leaving Catalyst with the newfound respect Xirr had for him, to grating the Gen'dai.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar,Darth Catalyst,Padawan4687,Shira,gorzan,@lordjania
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Post by Deleted on Feb 9, 2018 1:44:19 GMT -5
IC: Jania Kio Location: The Sinking Room, Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban Continuing to examine the passageway Jania thoughts formed on the fact that this path probably didn’t lead them out and that they would have to either use the force or simply be lucky at the right moment. The ever stifling darkness prevented her from seeing the man traps that probably laid ahead and she knew whoever was first would be the the shield for everyone else. And as she backed away earlier in their expedition she did once again to avoid being sent in first. From what Jania thought she figured the group still saw her as the useless acolyte and would attempt to curb that in their favor. Hearing Apollyon do what she was against and nominate her to go first Jania wondered why she would do such a thing. Wasn’t this the woman who seemed against this when they were back at the acid pool? What changed in her to decide that an acolyte on her first hours on Korriban should lead the party anywhere. For now when they get back to the temple, Jania would do her best to track Apollyon and Viscretus as they were possible opposition for her in the future but in the now she had to figure out what to do next. Backing towards Scionica she subconsciously found her back bumping into the girl’s chest and without notice she reached out and grabbed the girl’s hand with her own. Taking a deep breath as she felt the sudden rush of relaxation and confidence she figured that to keep herself from being a target for hazing amongst her Sith superiors, Jania would have to play the role of someone who wasn’t scared but smart and calculated. Keeping Scionica’s hand firmly in her soft one Jania smirked before looking over in the darkness where she could make out the figure of Apollyon. Giggling a little bit she bowed her head slightly before motioning for the Sith Master to go on ahead of her. “My Lord I couldn’t possibly go first with my lack of knowledge and use of the force. I implore you to go first and I promise to be right on your tail. Surely someone of you knowledge has experiences and overall mastery that could teach a acolyte like me if I trail behind you. Wouldn’t you agree my lady?” She kept the smirk after her statement as she figured this would reveal whether the woman actually had it in for her or not. Turning her face back to Scionica she smiled as she looked into the assassins face as she felt like something was forming between them because of how comfortable Jania felt around her. Her presence felt similar to her ex Alisha and she figured that’s why she felt a closeness to her already.. plus in the dark they kind of looked alike. “You agree with me right Sci? I should be learning instead of engaging with this temple. I feel I could learn a lot from all of you. So you agree right?” She asked looking into the girl’s eyes for a single moment before the slight blush would come to her cheeks though in the dark she figured it couldn’t be seen. She would then look back to Apollyon as she waited for Scionica to agree with her. Tag: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, Shira, Padawan4687, Darth Catalyst, dice, gorzan |
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Post by kurtishenschel on Feb 11, 2018 1:55:02 GMT -5
IC: Karina Hold of the Artificer, Federation checkpoint Karina stayed silent as Voidwalker spoke to the federation guards doing her best to sell the idea that they were a couple that didn't get much down time. As he spoke she ran her hands up and down his chest while kissing him on the neck. She was determined not to have any slip ups on their end plus because she was kissing him on the neck it gave her a chance to watch the guards without getting caught. A slight blush could be seen on her cheeks since she's never done anything like this with a man and she could tell he was also a bit flustered by their current situation. She rolled her eyes as he bragged to the guards about why he couldn't get up muttering under her breath about how he was compensating. When he shifted under her without warning she noticed the saber and quickly moved so she was fully sitting on his lap facing him covering the saber with her right leg so it wouldn't be as noticeable in case it did come to a fight. She wrapped her arms around him pulling herself close making it look like they were about to kiss. "I'm trusting you to get both of us through this alive but try not to make a shiny lightsaber hilt so noticeable I doubt they'd believe that it's a toy when all the others are stone." She kept her voice down and kept her eyes locked on his "and don't brag so much I'm pretty sure a man about to get laid wouldn't run his mouth so much unless he was trying to get the others to leave. Just keep talking to them at a minimum so they don't get suspicious, after all you did make it out to them like we're a couple so better act like it for the meantime." She couldn't believe that she had to be the one giving him advice when he was a sith he should of known those things unless they really were a bunch of monks that only focused on the force and whatnot. Shaking the thought she did her best to keep herself on the man's lap so they wouldn't discover his weapon and arrest them both. Tags: Darth Dreadwar Darth Voidwalker |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 11, 2018 16:08:22 GMT -5
IC: Darth Solus
Location: Citadel Catacombs, Dromund Kaas“You know, it couldn’t hurt to try and get the other panel working as well. That way we could take a gander into each entryway and make a more ‘educated’ decision.”
“My thoughts exactly, Apprentice.”
Solus peered into the empty abyss of a hallway before him. He didn’t feel that the other would show him any additional information, but who knows. Nostrem had been unusually quiet. I suppose he will target my apprentice. As Deleritas went and meditated Solus could sense the change in his demeanor and see the furrowing of his brow. Nostrem is playing with him. His own voices don’t shake him. The mental torment was Solus’ least favorite. It was easy to ignore physical pain and torment. Mental torture was another thing all together. It wasn’t easy to separate someone else’s voice from the ones that you hear in your own head. The suggestions feel real, they feel like you. They feed your insecurities and tear at your heart, then as you break down ever so slightly, they learn more. It was Solus’ least favorite. That is why he instilled and fed the voices in Deleritas’ head. They were not meant to harm him, but protect him from the prodding fingers of a would be mental invader. Those screaming torturous voices would drown out Deleritas’ own thoughts and make it nearly impossible for anyone to invade his mind. When he learned to control and harness them the Emperor may even have a challenge. One level higher we play. With the thought of the Emperor’s mantra Solus snickers to himself. The openness of uses for such a phrase. The possibilities and interpretations were endless. I wonder how the emperor interprets it. Maybe even he tailors it to fit his own means. “Do not listen to Nostrem.”Solus’ words cut the silence that lingered so heavily when the two sith fell into their own thoughts.
“You are stronger and more valuable then you believe yourself to be. Don’t allow an expired Sith to feed your insecurities.”
Watching his apprentice, it is very easy to see him relax. It appears my words may have helped. Solus’ master never had reassuring words, that was another one of her greatest failures. Although the sith were harsh and used some of the more negative emotions, there was a power in the positive emotions. This was something that Solus had to learn on his own. Enough of this. There is a task before us.
“Use your night vision and see if you can make anything out down that open passageway.”
With that Solus proceeded to the door. Using the same precision, he did before he tested voltages. He works with haste in hopes to leave the room faster. The increasing temperature is no more than a nuisance, but it may become a threat if the two Sith lords do not leave soon. Darth Catalyst, Deleritas
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Post by Deleritas on Feb 11, 2018 16:08:32 GMT -5
Combo Post with Darth Solus IC: Darth Deleritas Part VII Location: The Citadel, Kaas City, Dromund Kaas "You know, it couldn't hurt to try and get the other panel working as well. That way we could take a gander into each entryway and make a more 'educated' decision." I said to Solus. The heat was rising and thus, by discomfort. I found this to be strange. I never had a problem with this in the past. Shoot, my home base is on a desert planet and I spent my time on Trandosha hunting in the woodlands where the temperature was far from cool. "My thoughts exactly, apprentice."
After having said my piece, I went and sat in the middle of the room. I faced the staircase that led to the alchemy-infused slab of stone that blocked our original entrance. I crossed my legs and laid my forearms over top of my knees. I closed my eyes and began to relax. I cleared my mind of everything…even the voices that tended to bicker and fight in the confinements of my skull. I envisioned a pure darkness, no signs of light anywhere I tried to lose myself within the darkness. I could feel myself slipping away and becoming one with the darkness when, suddenly, the sound of Darth Nostrem's voice jolted me back. " Your weakness betrays you, young Deleritas. Your master senses it as clearly as I do." I squinted my already shut eyes and tried to shut the spirit out. My brow furrowing out of both frustration and determination. I was not so easily broken. "You do not belong here, among the ranks of the Sith Order. You're nothing but a pretender, wielding the Force for little more than prestidigitation." Darth Nostrem continued, his contempt clear and unwavering. "You will die before you are truly accepted into the Sith Order. The Power of the Dark Side has no place in the hands of fools. The true Sith died on Dromund Kaas when the Emperor abandoned his people in favor of the Unknown."
The spirit's voice faded out with a maniacal cackle leaving me, once again, to blend with darkness. I continued forward once I had regained silence. The darkness offered serenity from this irritating, worldly situation. Solus' voice shattered the calm with a short quip of the tongue, "Do not listen to Nostrem. You are stronger and more valuable than you believe yourself to be. Do not allow an expired Sith to feed your insecurities."
He knew. Solus was well aware of the short battle that had been waged in my mind. Luckily, it was as short as it was. But I had found my refuge, the heat and Nostrem turned into the mere itch of a mosquito bite that, while irritating, was tolerable. My face cracked and gave way to grin. A grin revealing two rows of perfectly-white, perfectly-straight teeth. I opened my eyes again and watched Lord Solus move about the room. His steadfast confidence continued to make me more comfortable with the situation. "Use your night vision and see if you can make anything out down that open doorway." Solus offered a new task for me to take care of because he knew that that helped when I became lost in my own thoughts. An occurrence that struck me far too frequently. So, I stood up and walked to the first door. I donned my mask and switched the optic settings to infrared. I peered into the darkness searching for…who knows what. After a time, I walked to the other door and did the same. Hoping that my observations would provide me with some direction. Darth Solus, Darth Catalyst, |
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Feb 12, 2018 1:45:46 GMT -5
The Coronation of Darth Dreadwar the Magnificent 150 ABY IC: Lord Darth Dreadwar Vault of Lacerus, Sith Temple, Korriban The Legacy of Vassago Where the New Sith Order began, so shall it end.That was the thought running through the mind of Darth Dreadwar as he surveyed the thousand Sith arrayed before him. He stood one level higher than the masses of Sith arrayed below, having ascended a winding spiral stair to reach the upper level of the vault they all gathered in. The word 'massive' did not do the sheer size of the vault justice. Cut deep into the rock of Korriban, perhaps not by the hands of man, the cavernous chamber was so vast that it was impossible to see the far wall from Dreadwar's vantage point; not even the thousand torches held by the masses of Sith below did not cast light so far. But they did illuminate the immense treasures decorating pillars, clefts, balconies, creches and high places of adoration all around them, the golden glitter of precious relics and the eerily reflected bloodshine of holocrons captured forever in a deathless state of eerie beauty by the enraptured eyes of the breathless assembled. They were all looking at him. They represented the totality of the New Sith Order across the galaxy. All descended from a moment no less significant than this one, occurring in this very same vault long before the birth of the New Sith Order. All descended from the prodigious genius and dark power of one man. His names were many and the hypotheses of his origins equally many. Some said he had been a Jedi Knight, once, by name of Vikktier Liehinsheir. Some said his noble bearing proved he was an obscure marquis of Almania, or perhaps an Anzati blood count. Others still claimed he was the inheritor of Sith power by both might and blood, a descendant of the believed extinct Sith species who was human in appearance, they proposed in defense of their fanatical if conspiratorial adoration, by virtue of the millennia of dilution that had transpired since the age of Emperor Vitiate. But he was remembered in the annals of the New Sith Order by only one appellation. Darth Vassago. Saviour and hero to the Dark Jedi, and Dark Lord of the Sith. Over one hundred and thirty years ago, in the aftermath of the fall of the first Galactic Empire, numerous and various elements of dark side practice had scattered across the galaxy, fleeing the rising tide of the New Republic. The Dark Jedi acolytes once serving the reborn Emperor Palpatine on Byss, the remnants of the Inquisitorius left leaderless without Jerec, the Empire Reborn left rudderless without Hethir, and many more disparate sects of impotent Sith cultists. It was Darth Vassago, who had stepped into the power vacuum led by prominent Dark Jedi and self-proclaimed Sith Lords Zedd Vega and Garonnin, who convened and united these elements on the ancestral Sith homeworld of Korriban. It was said it was on this world, in this very vault, that Vassago came to be. The man he once was, whoever that man had been, stood exactly where Dreadwar stood now. Not facing a crowd, but facing an altar alone. Facing the primordial specter that his invocation of the altar's runes had unwittingly summoned. Lacerus; once Sovereign of the Dark Side, now merely the instrument by which the dark side anointed the hapless intruder its living vessel in the galaxy, stripping away the mortal vagabond's identity in a caliginous rite that transformed the man into the legend. The Darth. The Lord Vassago, who would found the New Sith Order right here in the same ancient temple his foul dreams had led him to. Vassago was joined by a former Imperial Dark Jedi, a man who took on the name Darth Nemisis in honour of a mythical god described in an ancient Sith grimoire as Darr tah El'Nemes'tsis, and an ageless Gen'Dai who seemed to appear without bidding and without explanation from the Unknown Regions, who took on the name Darth Dispicable - in truth, to disguise the fact he was already, inexplicably, a Sith Lord, worshipped in eldritch and unhallowed places by the cognomen Darth Cruor. Under Vassago and his newfound triumvirate, Sith Trials would be held on Korriban for the first time in over a thousand years. Freed from the dictum of Bane's Rule of Two, and their existence safely unknown to the burgeoning Jedi Order coalescing under Luke Skywalker, the Sith were able to grow in strength and number, flourishing into a sizable faction numbering thousands. There were other Sith in the galaxy, of course, of varying legitimacy, many unknown to each other. Skulking in the shadows, a continuation of the Baneite line in Vader's secret apprentice and Palpatine's Hand Shira Brie, codename Lumiya, who took for herself the title Darth Immaculata and associated with, and even trained, several individuals over the decades - Flint, Carnor Jax, Kára Volshe and ultimately Darth Caedus. Trapped on Kesh, a lost tribe of Sith who had interbred with the primitive natives. Hidden beyond the outer rim of the galaxy, in the darkest depths of space, an ancient Empire of True Sith reawoken by the shockwave in the Force that was the death of Palpatine, pulling the strings of galactic conflict in the years after Endor under the leadership of a dark pantheon. But so far as the New Sith were concerned, they comprised the only recognisable Sith faction in the galaxy, and they shared the homeworld of Korriban with nobody. Unfortunately, that came to apply to even each other. The New Sith Order's Rule of One demonstrated what detractors would call its greatest weakness and supporters would call its intended mechanism of natural selection: infighting. An invasion by a race of alien vampires known as the Kiasyd would be the wedge which split the Sith apart. Although the attempted coup launched by Cruor and Vassago's former apprentice Draconis failed, it cemented the division. The Black Sith, which the Imperial Dark Jedi and Vassago loyalists came to be known as, were formed in opposition to the Red Sith, an egalitarian brotherhood ironically devoted to ending power struggles and infighting in the mold of Kaan, led by one Mentok. Vassago, the Great, the legendary founder, fell from power. In the wake of his pressured abdication and believed death, his once closest allies divvied up the New Sith Order; Nemisis and Rilwen Shadowflame fled Korriban with their Acolytes of Darkness, while the Red Sith split in two, some also fleeing to the Senex sector where they would become the Dominion of Darkness under Darth Marvelous, others remaining on Korriban under the leadership of Darth Krayt, dyeing their skin scarlet and embracing fully Mentok's tribal ethos and ideals of loyalty to become the One Sith. And it would be under Krayt that, after decades of hiding and with it decades of coups and civil wars, the New Sith Order would rise from Korriban, crushing the Jedi in an alliance with a New Galactic Empire. Yet Emperor Krayt's ensuing rule over the galaxy was doomed to fail from the beginning. The underlying tensions of the Order had not been resolved; they had only festered, taking root in the treacherous heart of confidantes like Wyyrlok. Much like Vassago, Krayt was overthrown, and his final death at the hands of Cade Skywalker had broken the Sith's hold on the galaxy. Yet, ironically, it paved the way for the reunion of the fractured New Sith Order. The Dominion and Acolytes, hiding in the Unknown Regions from the eyes of Krayt while they continued their endless battle, could once again emerge from the shadows. The One Sith were eager for reunification to bolster the waning power of the dark side across the galaxy. It would be Darth Dreadwar who realised their dreams. The endless Shadow War between Acolytes and Dominion, their flight deeper and deeper into regions they should not have traversed, attracted the attention of the True Sith. And at Mobus, they met the undead hordes of the long-silent Lord of Darkness, the Immortal God Dreadwar, in furious battle. The guile of the Acolytes' leader Insipid delayed Dreadwar and the True Sith for nearly five years, but when a bargain was struck, all obstacles in Dreadwar's path were removed. Mystique, last of the Sith Lords to stand against him, was killed by Insipid's own hand. And within mere months, Dreadwar had unified and inherited the New Sith Order. There was only one step left to take. Where the New Sith Order began, so shall it end.
Dreadwar turned away from the masses, placing his hands behind his back calmly, regarding the many dozens of Sith who joined him on the vault's upper level. Darth Insipid met the abyssal gaze of that empty cowl, a faint smile creasing his lips, those absurd spectacles blazing like twin suns just as always. Darth Haretisch shifted nervously, still bearing the scars of Insipid's lightsabers and Dreadwar's cruel spellwork. Darth Talon, Darth Nihl and Darth Maladi were there also, flanked by Sith troopers. Manticore, Draconis, Apollyon, the Master of Ceremonies, the entire Dark Tribunal... They were all waiting for him. In the daemoniacal light of great flickering braziers held in the palms of bowing statues, Dreadwar stood, dressed not in his customary garb of tattered black robes, but rather the crimson robes of the late Emperor Krayt, worn over the golden armour he had worn in his bygone youth, with cortosis-weave shoulderguards sprouting embedded Tuk'ata horns. A much taller being than Krayt, the robes had required refitting to accommodate Dreadwar's 6' 6" height, but such measures were necessary to accord with Sith tradition; the midnight black typically preferred by a Sith Lord gave way to red when an Emperor was coronated. For that was the purpose of the gathering this day in the unholy vault of Lacerus. The Dark Lord Dreadwar was to be coronated Emperor of the Sith. Where the New Sith Order ends, so shall it be reborn.If he had but lips, they would have curled in a smile, then, as he made his way past the ritual columns of his highest-ranking servants to approach the altar that stood in the middle of the dais, surrounded by a moat of murky water. Atop the altar, placed there already before the beginning of the hour-long ceremony, was a cruel crown of twisted grey metal, jagged and angular, four blade-like wings extending from its thorny brim.  The water of the small moat parted before his passing, his fine cloak trailing across wet stone as he drew near the altar. And then, once he stood only feet from his waiting crown, he paused, letting the water trickle back to resume a circle around him and the altar. The ceremony was nearing completion. Insipid and Haretisch had been appointed his Herald and Hand, respectively, one a harbinger of the night Dreadwar brought, the other an embodiment of the shadow he cast. Both were honoured with the title Dark Lord of the Sith, a matter of practicality as much as anything, yet one with a historical precedent Dreadwar could amusedly appreciate. Vitiate, considered by historians the first Sith Emperor, had been tasked with uniting the Sith in the calamitous collapse that had followed Naga Sadow's failed Great Hyperspace War. A failed war, and a failed apprentice. Much like the fate that befell the New Sith Order, the ancient Sith Empire saw the rise of many a self-proclaimed Dark Lord, taking on the title of the sole ruler of the Sith; rather than conquer them all, Vitiate had pacified them, letting them all keep their titles. A move Kaan had pulled also, millennia later, but Vitiate was no Kaan; he was not content with ruling alongside his newfound Dark Council with a title of nominal equality. No, he had looked back in Sith history and seen a title greater than Dark Lord, greater than Jen'ari. A title, ironically, the very first Dark Lords had rejected, fearing the superstitious wrath of the Sith should they violate taboo and claim the sacred title as their own. Sith'ari. Overlord. God. Emperor. More ironic still, it had been the title Ku'ar Danar had used in life. He had been coronated in the necropolis of Golg, then, throngs of Massassi watching him ascend the Black Pyramid with the vassal King Dathka Graush in tow. The fact he was essentially being crowned Emperor a second time was not lost on him, but such a secret would be very impolitic to reveal, in an Order where his origins as Ku'ar Danar were wholly unknown. Indeed, to the Sith watching him today, he was simply Dreadwar the Conqueror, the mystery Sith Lord who had appeared out of nowhere and, with apocalyptic power beyond Krayt's wildest dreams, smashed the New Sith beneath him. Such a history, however, actually endeared Dreadwar to the Order; power and strength were respected above else, and after decades of infighting between weak leaders like Talon and Mystique, the Sith now saw their saviour. The one who had unified the New Sith Order for the first time in over one hundred and thirty years, the one who would now lead them from Korriban to assail the Galactic Federation that now controlled the galaxy, exploiting the Federation's own civil war sparked by the Senate Aflame Crisis. The first attack was planned for tomorrow. That would be the day Dreadwar would be unveiled to the galaxy. Today, he would be crowned. He extended a gauntleted hand, and picked up the crown from the altar. Past Sith such as Exar Kun had been anointed by the spirit of their forebear. Dreadwar was the spirit in question. Turning to face the crowd, and, nearer to hand, the Sith leadership waiting with bated breath, Dreadwar lifted the crown high. And then, the rippling of his spectral breath the only sound to break the silence, he placed the crown atop his cowled head.
It was Darth Apollyon who gave the ritual proclamation, raising her caramel hand towards him in an archaic salute. "Hail the Emperor! May he be luckier than Vitiate, and better than Sidious!"
The crowd exploded.
Drowned out by their cheering, a whisper emanated from the altar. May you reign for eternity. Only Dreadwar heard the voice of Lacerus, but he found no need to respond. It was done.
Long live the New Sith Empire.
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Post by Lord Vassago on Feb 12, 2018 23:07:37 GMT -5
IC: Warlord Zhav'vorsa Imperial Medbay, Sith Temple, Korriban.“The bacta patch has not had enough time to heal your chest wound,” the droid advised, his robotic tone ringing throughout the medical bay. All the droid could do was tilt its head and focus it’s photoceptors on the large, brutish human sitting on the edge of the bed. “You must remain in—” the droids voice abruptly buzzed to an end when the head was knocked from the frame of the unit with a powerful swipe of the man’s muscular, cuffed forearm. The disembodied head clanked a few times as it rolled across the ground, coming to rest across the room, and the body of the droid was pushed aside. “Vikeesi,” the imposing man muttered as he rose, speaking in his native tongue. He stood tall, stretching and straightening his back to his full height, rotating his arms and shoulders, and flexing his chest. He grit his teeth and grunted quietly, fighting through the pain of the wound on his chest. He couldn’t fully remember how he came to own the gash on his right pectoral, but it didn’t matter; he was sure whatever left it on him was dead, as he did not make a habit of leaving things alive. Warlord Zhav’vorsa of the Howling Blade Clan, or Battlelord Zhav to some of his people back on Dathomir, had come to Korriban for reasons different than most that seek the fabled temples of the Sith. Zahv was content sacking palaces, raping and burning villages on his, and other planets, leaving a legacy of fear and a trail of ash behind him. While he was trained by his mother in the practices of the Witches of Dathomir, and therefore had a connection to and some training in the Force, he never sought out the Jedi or the Sith, finding the polarized sects of the Force religions to be too narrow for his liking. Zhav was not seeking greater knowledge, nor was he seeking the answers to the Force, or the Galaxy itself, rather he desired one thing: Victory. He sought battle, carnage, flesh to dominate, and truly sought to conquer all the lands he faced. He was summoned from Dathomir, invited to Korriban…alone. He didn’t have a clear idea why, and the invitation gave him pause; he hesitated to accept. He would be pulled away from his clan, his leadership would be missed, and he feared his warband could become weaker due to his absence. Along with this, he found he had very little desire to mingle with the greater Religions of the Force, even the Sith, though he did admire their history of ruthlessness and tenacity. Still, he relented and travelled to the red sands of Korriban. He turned his gaze to the sparking, convulsing body of the droid on the ground and breathed a laugh, pushing air from his nostril. To his left, leaning against the wall, was his great blade, The Howl of the Damned, a meticulously crafted blade of hellacious power. His hand wrapped around the hilt of the large blade, the chain and hook that hung from the pommel clanking with the movement, and he sheathed it on his back, the blade clenching perfectly to the strap. He adjusted the buckle across his chest and turned, pushing his hair back out of his face. A few beds down, across the room, he saw a dark silhouette before another figure, the two looking to be deep in conversation. His eyes, amber with a dark umber outer ring, narrowed at the exchange between the two Sith; he had no trust for those in the temple, and less so for a ghostly being draped in dark, swirling robes. “Warlord,” a voice hissed in his ears, like an insect buzzing by. Zhav’vorsa’s head darted and he spun on his heel, looking behind him for the source. “Come hither,” he heard again, yet nothing was around him. His eyes slowly turned to the dark figure down the aisle, an inescapable darkness emanating from the figure. “Draw your weapon, and attack your Emperor.” The command snaked into his ear canal and he knew the words, the voice, were slithering from this hooded being. The command struck the Warlord as very out of place; he’d never encountered anyone that invited, even requested an attack from his blade, deadly as it was. He would obey. A smirk formed across his lips and he began methodically walking down the aisle, passing the beds on both sides. He reached back with his brawny right arm and drew his blade, the chain at the pummel clanking once more. He held the large blade down, off to the side, and maintained a single grip to it. He set his gaze on the two figures as he approached them, his eyes like that of a predator stalking prey, and spun the blade on his hand, passing it between the grip of his left and right hands. The blade howled quietly, hauntingly as the air passed through the notches. With only five paces between them, the Warlord readied his blade. He held it down to his right, still, and tightened his grip on the hilt. When he came upon the robed figure, he let loose a guttural roar, swinging upward from the bottom right at his unarmed opponent in a mighty lash. The heavy strike intended to cleave the body in two from the thigh upward. TAG: Darth Dreadwar , Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror
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Post by trentongordon on Feb 13, 2018 22:05:41 GMT -5
IC: Reaper Location: Nar Shaddaa "I see. Guess we'll be working together." He said looking at Corvar and then listened to the two. After Corvar had said his piece Reaper looked at the droid and then Kubjo to see what he said. He turned around and removed the front of his helmet. It had a maglock in it to make sure it was hard to remove but it hurt all the time. He removed it slowly turned away from everyone. His head was hidden from Kubjo, Corvar and the droid's view due to his hood. He unwrapped some bandages from Hus face which were vantablack to incite fear when his helm was removed. He rubbed his face a bit and then rewrapped the silken cloth and put his mask back on. He turned around as a hiss emerged signaling it locking. Tag: Darth Catalyst, darthkain7 |
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Feb 14, 2018 3:06:18 GMT -5
IC: Federation agentMain hold of the Artificer , Federation checkpoint"I see," the closest agent said slowly, a skeptical look crossing his face as he stared at the passionate scene taking place before him. "Kybercock, eh? Uncivilised imitations of a Jedi's weapon." He closed his eyes, as if embarrassed to look at Karina and Voidwalker any longer, causing his partner to frown briefly at him and step forwards, interjecting himself between the inattentive agent and the potentially dangerous crew of the ship they were inspecting. The checkpoint lay on the hyperlane leading out of Federation space, after all; one could not be too cautious, given that Sith Space or Hutt Space were the only usual destinations. After several seconds, the first agent opened his eyes again, and this time his expression was darker. He dropped a hand to his holster and brought the blaster pistol to bear, its chrome barrel pointing directly at Voidwalker's forehead. It was not a clean shot, by any means, due to Karina's proximity, but the agent did not seem to care about placing her in harm's way; indeed, it seemed the threat was directed towards both of them, and their acting had left them in a most compromised and vulnerable position. The second agent followed suit, pointing a weapon towards Captain Jacen the instant he noticed the man reach for his belt. "If that is true," the first agent bit out, "then why are you transporting dark side artifacts to Sith Space," he nodded towards the concealed cache, "beneath that floor panel there?" TAG: Darth Voidwalker kurtishenschel
IC: Captain GederpSecondary bridge, the Triumphant Not a minute had passed since Vassago's tremendous use of the Force had cleared the bridge, when a blue-skinned Chiss in crisp Imperial Naval uniform led a detail of Stormtroopers up the passageway, his mouth dropping open momentarily as he beheld the carnage within. Charred corpses. Smoldering wreckage of consoles. An entire bridge, blackened, the acrid stench of burning heavy in the air no matter how fast the vents attempted to recycle the air. And standing untouched, an old man with a grey beard and dark robes. Gederp had been on his way to the secondary bridge when the attack had been launched; he was caught in the railjet tunnels when that unearthly, roaring sound had thundered past him, impossibly loud, unseating him from the turbotrain with an accompanying gust of powerful wind. Gederp had assumed it was some kind of explosion, but his comm-link had been crushed under his weight from the fall, keeping him in the dark until he encountered a platoon of Stormtroopers racing towards the hangar Lady A'dola had headed to. He was told that sound had been some sort of sonic weapon that had killed everyone in a significant radius around the hangar; if Gederp had boarded the railjet merely a minute later, he would have been dead. He had been risking such a fate regardless taking such a small detail with him to secure the secondary bridge, but fortune smiled upon him; the bridge was clear of enemies. He frowned towards the stranger. Or at least, he hoped so. "Halt," he commanded, drawing his blaster and pointing it at the back of the interloper. Gederp was ten meters behind Vassago, standing on the threshold of the bridge. "Identify yourself!" TAG: @darthvassago
COMBO WITH THE MOST CUNNING LINGUIST AND GORZAN
IC: Tarpy, Lemmy and KintControl room, Ninushodojinyaut, dead spaceLemmy lowered his cannon slowly. With the room clean, he finally had time to take a look around. The images on the screen were still just as foreign to him as before, but he had an inkling as to which ones would be bad choices. “Well, I’m gonna say we shouldn’t touch the beastie shaped ones, or the skeleton lookin’ one. If this Pervertus or whatever you called him is here then I bet pushing the button with the guy on fire will let him out.” Lemmy shrugged and turned back towards the sealed door, keeping an eye for any more of the black fluid in case it managed to seep in. “Or it’ll kill him. I dunno. I’m more concerned with gettin’ outta here than rescuing some sap that you lost!” He looked over his shoulder at Kint. “I ain’t about to go out in a blaze of glory for a total stranger that I ain’t even gettin’ paid to rescue.” Kint shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me." He reached forward, and pressed the burning man button, staying tense and ready to move at the slightest movement. For five long, excruciating seconds, there was nothing. The screen remained unchanged, save for a small green tick appearing over the pictogram Kint had pressed. Then a distant, rumbling roar echoed throughout the chamber, clearly emanating from the passageway they had fled from. Upon the instant, there was a strange sloshing sound at the door, getting quieter and quieter, as if the black liquid that filled the passageway was withdrawing in the direction of Lemmy's right, moving away from the control room its quarries had entered. The roar sounded again, distant still, but louder. "What is this... new devilry?" whispered Tarpy, clinging to Kint tightly like a wet rag around the neck. TAG: gorzan, Darth Catalyst
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Post by kurtishenschel on Feb 14, 2018 3:43:50 GMT -5
IC: Karina Main hold of the Artificer, Federation checkpoint Karina stared at the blaster aimed at Voidwalker faking a surprised gasp she acted like a defenseless woman despite her prosthetic indicating the opposite and pretended to be using voidwalker to comfort her so they'd seem innocent. Looking to the officer with a confused expression she kept his saber covered but moved her leg slightly so he could grab it if he needed it. "Officer do we look like we could afford any sith artifacts? Especially any of importance, I mean hell we can barely keep this ship running and look." She grabbed one of the stone rods nearby and held it up "you really think these are expensive? You'd have to like it rough if you found these things comfortable. Aliens love them though especially wookies, they can't rely on wood for everything. But in all seriousness officer what about us makes you think we can even get close let alone have possession of some kind of sith artifact? I actually am flattered just because you even consider us a threat." She tried to sell the lie even further by leaning against voidwalker rubbing his cheek "I mean he's not even a fighter just a engineer, he would hurt a womp rat unless you laid a hand on me. He's territorial but that's why I love him, so unless you have some proof of this artifact you claim we have or a reason to see us as threats I kindly ask that you lower the weapons. We haven't threatened you so I'd assume that you wouldn't threaten us, unless of course you guys became a bit more tyrannical." Once she finished speaking she looked over to the captain before returning her attention to the officer waiting to see how he'd respond. She hoped they'd buy it and that the others would also try to prove their innocence so she wouldn't look like a idiot while getting detained. Tags: Darth Dreadwar Darth Voidwalker |
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Post by Darth Iramus on Feb 14, 2018 17:37:29 GMT -5
IC: Darth Iramus Location: The Mysterious Room Iramus concern over his data organizer was short lived. No sooner had he begun to consider what use anyone or anything other than himself would have for it than one of the other prisoners awoke to see Xar feeding on the one-handed Duros. “Holy kriff!” The prisoner exclaimed. He gestured wildly at Xar's comatose victim. “Man, what the….what the kark? Why’d you do that? You lunatic!”His companion took him by the arm and and pulled him away. “Shut yer mouth, Dav. Or you’ll be supper next.”
"Yes, Dav." Iramus chuckled. "I would listen to your friend." He nodded in mock severity. "In case you are unfamiliar, my colleague is an Anzat and they tend to get quite grumpy when their meals are interrupted.
Dav's compatriot scanned the room quickly, ducking behind a column and and struggled with a crate, ignoring Iramus. It seemed unlikely he would open it but if they at least attempted to be useful, then Iramus would tolerate their presence for the time being. The one working on the crate barely met his eyes, instead pulling "Dav" down beside him and whispering. Whatever those two were conspiring about was of no concern. Iramus began scanning the room, probing it with the force to find a weak point or perhaps a hidden doorway. He turned to Xar. "Perhaps we can make our own exit?" He ignited his light saber once more and attempted to cut through the wall immediately opposite him. The blade hissed, flickered and closed off. "Intriguing." Iramus muttered as he examined the wall. Not even a scratch. Suddenly threw the lid off the crate beside them and barked in excitement. “A-ha!” Iramus sensed something odd about the way this.. pirate? behaved but felt no immediate threat. "Dav" jumped, then stood up just as fast, clutching the flimsi in his still-shaking hands. His eyes darted to his companion as he spoke, waiting for any cue. The other shoved his chin forward. “What is it?”“Our way outta here, my friend...schematics.”Iramus doubted that very much and was about to say so when he was interrupted yet again as the room began to shake, the power flickering and a harsh whisper entered directly into his mind. From Chaos! From Chaos it calls! Delay not, for time runs out for you.
Dav dropped the flimsi and jumped back, but his friend seemed more in control. The clock had blinked out - but now blazed to life again at 43:22, each second seeming to tick down in half the time. The astromech flickered, the Mandalorian’s image shifting to a puddle of blood-red stars upon the durasteel floor. “What the kriff was that? What the kriff is going on?”
In the midst of all this Iramus felt a vast and malevolent presence attempting to probe his mind. It was a deeply unsettling experience even for a Sith Lord who had stood in the presence of the Emperor himself.
"Though it pains me, my pirate friends, I feel I must agree with your sentiments."
Tag: Darth Dreadwar , darthramage ,@volshe, Darth Solus, |
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Arcane
Citizen
Posts: 45 
Likes: 30
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Post by Arcane on Feb 14, 2018 18:40:11 GMT -5
IC: Arcane Murder scene, Sith Temple, Korriban Arcane stood silent. "I am going to investigate, as the Emperor wishes." He stepped closer to the mouth of the hole. "It feels...darker here." He said as he drew closer. "Why do you need me?" He hesitated to step closer at this moment. "You have all these other students to choose from, and you're asking me for help?" He turned to face Ermir. His whiskers felt a cooling sensation. He was interested in what was omitting the sensations, darkness, and glow from the hole, but it was a bit unnerving. He knew he was to investigate, so he pulled his hood, turned,and stepped closer. "Ermir..." Arcane quietly began. "Come see..." His eyes fixated on the item inside the hole. His ears perked forward, intent on catching any sound at all made by the item. His body was cold, almost freezing now. His scarred blue eye, glowing. Almost as bright as the item itself. He felt, darkness and sadness, but also great comfort. He reached for it slowly. TAG: Darth Dreadwar |
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Feb 14, 2018 22:36:48 GMT -5
IC: Darth Coatlec
Loaction: Medbay, Korriban
As the frail body of the bastard son of a schutta laid out, pleading with his Emperor, he heard the whisps of the ancient wraith's voice, and felt the touch of his spectral breath upon his back. It was a small message, but a powerful one. For there was none that Coatlec respected more than his Emperor. "Rise, my young apprentice," Dreadwar hissed. It seemed there was an important lesson to be had here. Dreadwar already had an apprentice in Apollyon. Perhaps he called all of the Empire his apprentices, or perhaps this meant something more. "Certainly, my Emperor," Coatlec said.
And so he rose.
The Emperor's empty gaze shifted to the large brute of a man that was a few beds over. He then spoke to Coatlec yet again. It was now that the lesson was to be taught. "Attend," the Emperor rasped as he turned to the Warlord. "For I have a lesson to teach thee," he continued. "There is always more for me to learn, my Lord. I am ready and willing to see whatever lesson you offer me," the Illustrious Coatlec responded. Then Dreadwar's orders for the Warlord came. "Warlord, come hither, draw your weapon, and attack your Emperor," said the wraith. And so the man did. Zhav'vorsa's hand curled around the hilt of his blade, and he swung upward from his lower right. The Emperor had yet to defend, if he even were going to defend at all. What could he be teaching me by asking to be attacked?
TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Lord Vassago
IC: Xar
Location: A dark room
My, my. That was a good meal. It's been a while since I ate a Duros. Then the ever-talkative human, Iramus they called him, started talking again. Jeez. Will this guy shut up? "Ah, I see you are still among the living, Xar, how fortunate for the rest of us," Iramus rasped. "Duh, Iramus, I was never near death. Shut the kriff up," Xar retorted. "As to my lightsaber, and it would appear my comlink as well, someone or something has drained the power. Ah, yes, but apparently whomever or whatever did this did not bother searching me thoroughly as I still have an extra power cell," Iramus continued. "This aught to do the trick," Iramus muttered as he finally got his lightsaber to turn on. It took the dumbass long enough. "Congrats, Iramus, you finally turned the damn thing on. Great job," the Anzat spat.
It was then that Xar heard the disgust in the voice of one of the men that was chained. "Holy kriff! Man, what the….what the kark? Why’d you do that? You lunatic!" The other quickly shut him up and said, "Shut yer mouth, Dav. Or you’ll be supper next." Ha, you're damn right. "Yes, Dav. I would listen to your friend. In case you are unfamiliar, my colleague is an Anzat and they tend to get quite grumpy when their meals are interrupted," Iramus said. First correct thing the man has said all day. "I'd have to agree with my colleague here for once," spoke Xar. "You should probably shut up. I greatly enjoy my meals. I'd gladly make you the next one. But not now."
More chat continued to come from the others. "Take this…Can’t read it, but, eh. They won’t know. Just gotta sneak outta here without ‘em. Right? You can get us outta whatever door, Dav?" Xar zoned out for a time before he heard another word. Schematics. The room then started to shake, and a strange green energy oozed into the room. Then they all heard something.
From Chaos! From Chaos it calls! Delay not, for time runs out for you.
"Guys, let's find our way out of here. I certainly don't want to be in here when whatever that thing comes. Let's go. Now," Xar commanded.
TAG: Volshe, Darth Iramus, darthramage, Darth Dreadwar (I guess lol)
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Feb 15, 2018 1:03:53 GMT -5
IC Kubjo the HuttKubjo's Space Station, Nar ShaddaaKubjo nodded his head slowly at Corvar’s words, completely ignoring Reaper’s unmasking. He reached his hand out towards the holocron sitting upon the pedestal and telekinetically pulled it to him. He cradled in his arms it for a moment before thrusting it towards Corvar. “Mighty Kubjo hopes for you to consider this a signing on bonus for your new partnership with his enterprises.” D-3PO chirped excitedly. “Oh most wonderful for you mister Corvar! This position grants you access to Mighty Kubjo’s network of informants and a portion of his corporate influence. Your mere presence shall instill fear and cause the weak-willed to tremble at every footfall.” Kubjo had long since been silent but D-3PO continued rambling. “Oh it is most exciting to see you move from simple gladiator to business partner all in the course of a few hours! Why, I hadn’t even expected you to survive the encounter with the giant droid but now here we are, celebrating a momentous occasion! Why, if you’re even luckier, Mighty Kubjo might even send you t-” The droid was quieted by a casual brush from Kubjo’s massive arm, sending him clattering to the floor. Kubjo began slithering towards the door of the vault, motioning for Reaper and Corvar to follow him. “ Boska,” Kubjo boomed at them. “ Mendee-ya jah-jee bargon. Panwa banda. La pim nallya so bata de wompa. Koose blastoh nei. Ting cooing koo soo ah.” He waited by the door for Corvar and Reaper to follow him out. D-3PO stood back up and brushed himself off. “My apologies Master Kubjo,” he apologized sheepishly before turning back to Reaper and Corvar. “Come come, Mighty Kubjo shall arrange your transport. He requests you wait in his lounge while he prepares everything for you.” TAG: darthkain7, trentongordon,
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Post by darthkain7 on Feb 15, 2018 1:26:44 GMT -5
IC: Darth Kain Location: Nar Shaddaa Corvar smiled and eagerly accepted Kubjo's gift of the holocron, examining it a bit before placing it inside of his satchel. It was not unlike the descriptions of Sith holocrons he'd heard of through various sources. A pyramid, glowing crimson, radiating a darkness that would only submit to the will of a powerful Sith. Alas, he'd have plenty of time to study it further after this mission. He was happy to hear that Kubjo had accepted the offer, although he could tell that the protocol droid went off the rails a bit in how happy he was. Regardless, Corvar was now one step closer to completing his most immediate goal, and it brought him great satisfaction. Corvar did as he was instructed, walking with Reaper so that they could wait for Kubjo to prepare. "So," Corvar said, trying to strike up a conversation with his fellow darksider, "your mask is for more than just show, then?" TAGS: Darth Catalyst trentongordon TAGSET: Corbos |
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