TheWatchDog

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@Guy of Z



"my Kriffing leg!" Eisline roared with barely contained frenzy. Why, why did the universe hate him so? Why did it dismiss him and why did the force take every opportunity to betray him?! "That.....that...expendable" he let out a wheeze as he was kicked in the ribs and set reeling into the immense stairs hard enough he was certain ribs broke but the sheer, spasmodic agony from his leg left him blind to whatever might have befell his torso. The kick, which was brutal sent him flying about a quarter of a meter and the kinetics of it caused what little strength in the tendons holding his leg together after Earhen utterly vaporized his kneecap to give out and tendons and arteries snapped and he fell a rush of even more blood and a thump. Around them, the vast caverns shuddered and seemed to creak as though the lingering presence of long dead Sith, or perhaps an echo of Palpatine's self imprinted stirred, feeding on the carnage and the serendipitous nature of so many familiar faces being in one place. The Mandalorian watched him in the flickering light of the brazier, disinterested. "That leap was pathetic and that one looked like he had experience fighting airborn targets" the disappointment in his tone caused the Adept to delve into the darkside in a frantic attempt to staunch the bleeding and to lash out, only for blinding white agony to disturb his concentration.

Blood ebbed from the side of his head "MY EAR?! YOU CUT OFF MY KRIFFING EAR?!"

"Hurts don't it" Rua sneered, his eyes beaming with malevolence. "Do you know who killed Gethzerion?" he asked and the Adepts eyes widened at the mere mention of the name, a name that had literally been made a crime to utter in Imperial city and across the breadth of the empire. The Dark witch who'd been the whole reason that Zsinj was given command over an entire oversector, solely to keep her power contained at Dathomir.

"Zsinj and me, lied about it in our reports to the Emperor, since it suited Zsinj for the old wizard to believe a threat still existed. Funny that, Palpatine claimed to be damn near omnipotent in the force but couldn't sense the death of a rival..that he feared when he shouldn't have" There was laughter and a song steel blade touched the man's throat "your lightsaber, trying to reach for it with the force, I can see it in the twinge of your cheek muscles"

whether blood loss or fear or both the adept let out a howl of utter despair. "y..you....you and that other fop, that idiot pretender killed Gethkriffingzerion? You're a bad liar mando"

"And yet here I am, standing over you" a swift flick of the blade caused two layers of skin to slough off his neck and as the Adept howled in pain Rua grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up so that he was resting partly against the Mandalorians knee and tight and lower stomach. Darksider blood ebbed out, steaming against his armor in the cool subterranean air "Last chance, the crazy cunt that dismissed you from Coru...who is she really?"

Rua didn't even bother asking him about another Jedi who might have broken in, there was no point. Ja'Karr was good enough to stay one step ahead of him, he would have been in and out without this fool even realizing. Rua was arrogant, but he never underestimated a worthy opponent, especially a force sensitive one. The adept laugh "Afraid for your precious mamas boy Rua? Or your own honor? How does the Dog of a fat, matricidal bastard like Zsinj ever expect to unite the Mandalorian clans? Huh? Oh I know you..I can see it in your eyes, you glory hounding pretty boy halfbreed" he coughed, blood bubbled from his throat, definitely broke a rib. -Keep him talking, maybe I'll bleed to death before he kills me- it was petty, it was spiteful.

It was all he had.

And then his nose came off with a flick and he screamed again and nearly vomited. "I'll ask again pretender..Who is she really?"

Even in death, an adept's life was evidently not his own. Damn you..Sidious..you promised us glory...Not...this.

"She....she..is..exactly..who she says she is" The Adept managed a defiant laugh "And she is going to bring a holy war to this galaxy the likes of which even the Sith couldn't fathom! Your doom is in your hunt you damn Mandalorian hound! So kill me pretty boy...my death won't hold a candle to yours!"

In the flickering light, Rua of Clan Skirata, war master of Emperor Zsinj's countenance shifted. Something cruel, intermixed with genuine concern and malice.

He slid his blade, but not cleanly through the ribs to grant him a quick death. Instead he disemboweled the Adept, whose intestines spilt across the steps, bathing them in blood and bile as Earhen finally slid his way into one of the vaults.

cleaning his blade Rua ordered the Raptor guard to find the inventory list then check for missing Sith and Jedi manuscripts, ignoring the cloning tech and treasure, Ja'Karr wouldn't have been interested in that. "Then plant two dozen seismic charges and proton torpedoes in this cesspit. I want the explosion to be visible from orbit and a crater deep and wide enough to make a kriffing lake"

Rua turned to leave before looking back at the doorway "Ya hear that kiddo? You've got six hours to get your crap and leave or you'll be ash!"

The Adept was right. Rua thought, his death wouldn't compare.

Mostly because he wasn't someone else's instrument.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

Yavin IV



The force is strong in this place. I felt it in the air, back when Han and I were new to the rebellion.

I felt in the soil, rich, vibrant



And in the temple water gardens.

Rich, ancient and Dark and yet.

Jedi

That had been the mystery that occupied the focus of Luke Skywalker on most days that was he was off world. Why something so alien, something with history rooted in Sith doctrine (Or so the history holos he was viewing and the relics told him), could "feel" as though it had been built by distant kin. There was a presence in Yavin, it permeated everything, it enriched the land, gave the trees and lakes and seas a vibrancy but it was long dormant and not entirely beneficent. An ancient Jedi renegade turned Sith Lord had once ruled the planet, at times Luke could have sworn he saw glimpses of his shadow, his spirit but it wasn't as bright and obvious as Master Yoda's or Master Jin or Master Kenobi who sought him out from time to time and counseled him. -I could use some of their wisdom now- Luke thought, a gloved hand reaching out to some some sandy blond hair from his eyes. In the Months since Endor, he found himself a beacon in the force and many Jedi who'd hidden from the purge, or their students had come to him. It had been a comfort, Luke was born on one of the most wild, uncivilized and impoverished planets in the outer rim. He hadn't the first clue about the rich history of the Jedi Order, only in fables and stories and Imperial propaganda (which wasn't trustworthy, though sometimes held a grain of truth. It was a blessing, of his bakers dozen "The thirteen" as the Rebels were calling his Jedi Luke was probably the most ignorant of what came before and yet unencumbered by tradition he had the most clarity of vision. It also helped Yoda had anointed him as his chosen successor and none of the precious few surviving Jedi that made up his thirteen dared to question Yoda's judgment. It seemed when the two foot titan made a decree it was almost a religious proclamation and it both humbled and disturbed Luke at the same time.

Whatever came to pass, he needed to make sure the Jedi of his order respected him, but didn't revere him.

An hour ago he'd returned from a trip to Dantooine, where he'd meditated amongst the ruins of an ancient Jedi temple discovered there. He'd basked in the echoes of the past, communed with the shades of things that had been, the echo of masters whose powers made Yoda's look like his own when he'd first come to that little swamp. A sith had touched there too, a power totally alien and distinct to Palpatine's and something else, he could see a visage, a crone who was born old, whose spirit enmeshed itself in the force and yet cursed its existence therein, longing for oblivion, cursing the energies that had ensnared her to the last. She was Jedi and Sith and neither, her cynicism had radiated off the walls, her contempt reminding him of the dismal look in the eyes of Hutt slaves back home. He shuddered at the memory of that Luke and wondered how anyone could view the force as malevolent chains?

He'd gone to Dantooine after a friend in the archaeology service tipped him off about the temple being excavated. He'd traveled there seeking knowledge,a pathway to channeling the force in new ways by touching upon the ancient. Answers to questions he'd held in his mind since the demise of Palpatine and his father's redemption. Only to find he had more questions and try as he might, the netherworld of the force was closed to him, shutting itself, barring the way days ago.

He'd felt it, two immense powers in the force, one who had been smaller mere months ago but rose like a dark cloud spreading about the world's now ruled by the Pentastar alignment. The other? Rose from Coruscant, Luke couldn't quite understand it, or perceive it, but he could "feel" everything transpiring around it. Darksiders were dying by the dozens or submitting to a fashion of light he'd never encountered before.

Something else sleeping..stirred, but to him it seemed rather like a receptacle than a living being.

There was another, presence out there, not as violent or bright as the other, but no less concealed from his senses. The force was changing, growing, or perhaps waking up after several generations of being held in bondage by the dark. Which brought him to the majority of his new students, those who were just learning that they possessed force sensitivity. Those often came scared, confused and at times angry. But they learned, they healed, they responded better, their vigor and desire to learn was always a spot of hope in what became frustrating days at times. The frustration at times led to incredibly dumb decisions, decisions that cost him a potential apprentice and likely alienated the only other Jedi Master in the Galaxy and certainly the only one in hi nascent "order". Kale, Luke thought, he could sense his approach, sense his consternation. -I should have told them, I listened to the Alliance council and it hurt my students- Force, he thought, how did Yoda ever manage to hold a Jedi Order together for nearly a thousand years while navigating the treacherous seas of politics.

"You're doing it again" The voice, which barely concealed a snicker came from a Redhead with the most vibrant pair of green eyes he'd ever seen. At her waist rested a curved hilted Lightsaber, ordinarily she still wore the black trappings of her old life but she'd taken to wearing a blue cloak over them and was slowly assimilating into the Jedi Order. "It? What?" Luke asked, it was odd how the one person in the temple who had relentlessly pursued him and nearly killed him in a saber duel mere days after Endor had become his most trusted confidant and yet, it felt oddly natural..She was his opposite in many ways, cool, professional, ruthless and yet held together by a strong sense of honor. He was..He was

Wait, why was he looking down at her if he was seated in meditation? Oh...Luke thought, he was doing that again. Levitating, he wasn't even sure how he did it and he certainly couldn't do it out of the temple and he wasn't exactly sure he wanted too. Luke's mind slipped, and soon he found himself tumbling from the air and landing on his backside as the braziers that stood vigil in each corner of the meditation chamber flickered, casting a ghoulish pal over the murals painted onto the walls. Murals filled with ancient depictions of battles and a Dark Lord rising from the shadows, perhaps the ancient Sith?

Mara laughed "Grand Master of the Order, our light in the dark, our last best hope! On his ass, again"

"Yeah, well, its like I can, be anywhere at once when I'm in here, there's something about the rocks in these chambers. Something about the temples overall presence is enhanced here" He muttered, gratefully accepting her hand and rising to his feet. "And I get lost in the focusing..I guess"

"Amplification Alchemy, Sidious had a chamber not unlike this one. It's why I don't use 'em and mediate by the ziggurat in the water gardens" Well that, she thought and it was prettier out there, closer to the planet's wildlife. "is it dangerous?" he asked her, brushing himself off and bumping hands with the former Darksider's own which was dusting off his side, both paused a second, twinged a darker shade and then Mara saved them both from more awkwardness as she picked up the conversation. "They can be, they can focus your awareness but when you start to look outward, you are almost like an open comm line." "Someone or something might be listening?" "You might be letting something in" she warned with eyes that flickered with a sort of odd mix of pain and certainty. "Speaking from experience"

She nodded slowly "I tried to know your father's mind once when I was younger, dumber."

Luke didn't press the issue only nodded in thanks and began to head towards the door only to stop when he realized she'd grabbed his wrist. "Master Kale is looking for you, shall I send him in?" She asked with a predatory grin that led him to believe if she played attendant for him without a sparring session or a lunch to compensate her, the man would pay for it down the line, somehow. "Yes, thank you Knight Jade." the two exchanged an impish smile "Lunch?"

"Nah, we need to get your blade form up to snuff "Master" Skywalker!" bowing in over dramatic curtsey she pirouetted and then ducked through the open doors in search of the man Luke Skywalker owed an apology too.

"first mistake, won't be the last, but I can learn from them at least"

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

“Emperors Black bones! What the kriff did those Commandos have on them I only left on a few charges...oh well it's still a good distraction.”

(My ears!)

“Oh yeah...oops.”

(You better take me to those vents!)

“Fiiine”

Earhen began to trail the Raptors...their leader had a Mandalorian accent.

Great more complications first Mommas boy’s army now a Mando meathead merc leading them.

Earhen shared his mother's people’s low opinion of Mandalorians, he had run ins with the Mandalorian Protectors under Takel’s request and immediately understood why his ex Sun Guard instructors spat at their mention. There was little grace and an over reliance on gadgets, and the damn jetpacks. Why strap on a bunch of Gas to your back and hope a dude won’t hit you? It confounded Earhen as he fought them because Takel was too paranoid to trust anyone else but him and Vader after Suprema died.

Earhen understood why the Windborn did it but they naturally evolved flight, the Mandos were just a culture of adrenaline junkies. Additionally their heavy weapons fetish was so overcompensatory, the Sun Guard at least had a typical Echani grace to their combat despite all the weight they added to themselves but Mandos used their weapons like clubs, fitting as they were essentially a continuation of a cave dwelling culture driven off of Imperial Center eons ago

The former Assassin began his quest following after the task force that breached the door as the Raptors looked in the opposite direction for him. As he surveyed the bodies there seemed to be Shadow Stormtroopers about, Blackhole’s personal taskforce the Intelligence Director often delegated tasks to Stormtroopers with Advanced cloaking tech. Unlike most imperials he cared little for the typical Human High culture ideals familiar to those of the core worlds Hrakian and Human recruits were viable recruits for the recluse’s ends.

Whatever was stored here it had to be important if it had that freak shows interest.

Earhen kept avoiding the Red Armored troopers and their Black clad adversaries, occasionally picking off the unfortunate dumb enough to come his way eventually he realized he was dealing with a labrtyh.

The Damned Emperor and his love of deathtraps and mazes...

Earhen was hoping the keycard he took at least worked for the inside...if not he hoped it could open a door to take him to someone who could open it…he couldn't risk a cave in sadly and just blow the doors.

Earhen advanced into the unknown as blastire fire rang in the caverns, he had to get the things before the fight caused a cave in...thankfully he found his target easily. It was a black suited Imperial officer non Commando, Earhen smiled wickedly at how the moon of his mothers world favored him.

@Guy of Z

"Palpatine's bones! What a kriffing fight!" the voice accompanied psychotic laughter that cut above the blaster fire and discharges from personal beam weaponry not seen deployed in battle since the clone wars decades prior. beside him pressed against the immense pillar was a Raptor who'd had her helmet blown off her head, blood trickled down from a cut above her eyebrow and another further above her scalp but apart from that she had the same devilish grin on her face as the Mando who commanded them. Around them blaster bolts lanced into ornately carved cielings, causing a shimmering rain of precious gems and gilded metal from the rafters. Rua smiled, other troopers from other other potentates would have scattered, picking up as much of the treasure as possible (and dooming themselves in the process, for grave robbing from a Sith wizards vaults was deadly) but not the Raptors, Zsinj elite guard, his storm troopers, the scarlet warriors commanded by the new Emperor and trained and led by the next Mandalore. Zsinj's attack dog began to tap his feet and several of the raptors turned to look and they began to nod only to redouble their assault with even greater fury. Rua's tapping accompanied a hum which broke into a song, an ancient Mandalorian war poem.

"my mother told me...Someday I would buy, vessel with strong engines..fly to distant worlds. My clan I'll command, from a battle bridge" He whirred, stepping into the chaos and drawing one of his pistols a swift blast in the throat below the helmet took the head off one of the guards. "Take orbit storm, slay many foes, raze man worlds, raze many worlds"

Seeing their commander in the line of fine sent the raptors into a how of insanity and they roared forward almost saturating the entire room with blaster fire. A few concussive missiles roared overhead and soon, the defenders of the "gate" lay in heaps on the floor, blood and brain matter mixed with the stench of charred plasteel and the acrid stench of age, of dust, of must of the Sith.

"Area secured eh boys?" There was a laugh while a call came on the comm informing him of stiff resistance by something unknown deep in the catacombs. "Ah good, our force user retreated with the rest of the trash" he remarked turning to the woman "You there, you've command of the upper levels, inform Captain Pryde that I'll be heading deeper into this crypt"

"What if its our other party?"

Rua shrugged "I don't really care, whatever moron was dumb enough to blow a hole in the front door is not the guy I'm after and if he wants to help himself to the diseased poodu in this crypt he's welcome to take the liability onto his own damn shoulders. I need answers, so I'll go below"

After messily ending the Officers career Earhen proceeded to find the main cavern for the storehouse, or at least it seemed to be? He sure as hell couldn't tell but the officer was at least a hint of something in the right direction?

“Hey you got any clue we are in the right direction?” Earhen whispered to the Telerabbit.

“Yes we are but it's not exactly something you want to go to…”

“Why?”

( I hear someone's thoughts...their planning an ambush)

“I guess I have to use it don’t I.” Earhen sighed, he hated using disruptors. They were too much of an Auto win for him...but not against force users at least kriff them they get enough wins already; But he still hated resorting to disintegrations the act had no grace.

“Oh well” he said as he advanced to the entrance blaster in hand on the disintegration setting.

@Guy of Z

Eislen of Eriadu had a good life, he'd been born in the final days of the clone wars and raised by devotees of The Emperor and his glorious ten thousand year plan. Raised in the dark, unlike those inquisitor scum who'd been mostly Jedi dropouts or disgraced former Knights. Eislen had been raised to be Sith, trained in secret by the Emperor's most devout themselves and even fought beside Lord Vader twice! Twice! Glory lay ahead of him and he hadn't even flinched when their eternal Emperor fell over Endor, nor did he renounce his ways to side with that blind Inquisitor Jerec and the megalomaniac that was Ardous Kaine. No, he remained faithful, remained strong, served as Sate Pestage's loyal bodyguard. He'd even been able to gain access to some of the glorious Sith relics concealed on Coruscant! He'd been learning, he'd been growing stronger! Perhaps, perhaps he would have been ready to take over the Empire, restore it to its former majesty even! It was all perfect.

But perfection, was always an illusion.

He sat now in the dark, resting on immense granite steps flanking an enormous durasteel door, finely polished that contained on either side two gargoyle like statues of some ancient Sith Hounds, braziers in their snarling, open mouths burned empowered by ancient sorcery. This tomb, was older than any other and the Adept clad all in black but for a crimson cloak, snarled in the dimmed light. His hair was wild and disheveled as he was embittered. Some damn fool Inquisitor found a ship adrift in deep space and sensing the fire, the pulse of radiant life dormant within rescued it. They'd thought it was one of their own, fools! As if they could produce power of that sort! No, that was power that belonged to something else entirely, he could feel it, sense its disgust, its contempt and when he realized what she truly was.

She'd killed most of the inquisitors and dismissed him, her imperiousness was such that the Grand Vizier didn't even think twice and merely obeyed and he, he was too terrified of her power to strike at her. No, he accepted this demotion when he realized she was sending him out here to replace two guards who'd died mysteriously. Two adepts slain? By something within no doubt! The opportunity to test himself and grow stronger, to learn from the dark secrets within.

But the murderer had already departed. A Jedi of some sort, he'd stolen some items but all the other vaults remained barred. He'd been denied!

A presence began to touch his mind and he realized it was one of those accursed rodents and he let out a psychic hiss and drew his lightsaber. As the battle raged on above, he let out a capricious laugh. "I know of only one sentient who'd stoop so low as to use those..things..COME OUT VADER'S DOG!"

A crimson lightsaber ignited and he sneered at Earhen once the boy came into view.

"I thought you'd have died by now.." He stepped forward and then he stopped as an odd, almost savage humming echoed through the cavernous catacomb walls.

Sparks flew as durasteel yielded to..a Knife in the dark?

"My mootthheerr..tolld me...Someday I would buy...Vessel with strong engines, fly to distant worldss"

Eislin twitched at the Mandalorian war poem. "You're working with Rua kriffing Skirata now dog? That's how far you've fallen?" he spat.

"Nah, Eis, kid aint with me"

Eislin turned his head, his eyes narrowing. "So it's a three way fight then?!"

Rua turned eying Earhen "Kid, we got a problem? Or can I trust you to piss off and take whatever stupid Sith poodu you before kriffing off and leaving my men alone?" his voice held an edge of amusement, he'd no idea who this kid was nor did he really care. "my beef's with this one and one other and neither of them are you"

"I'll kill you both" the Adept hissed.

"Yeah, yeah Eis, listen up. Before I cut your kriffing thoat I've got one question for you" Rua asked, his eyes flickering with contempt. "That crazy cunt who demoted you to chief grave digger...Is she really who she says she is?"

Eislin could contain his rage no longer and with a roar tore towards Earhen.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@Guy of Z



While the machnications of two rivals for Galactic supremacy played out and the actions of an upjumped child soldier and his telepathic rodents played out, it had seemed to Rua Skirata that the rest of the world didn't give hide nor hair to what was transpiring. The lush world, its stormy night and otherwise eerie calm highlighted what the Mandalorian thought was would make this planet excellent for game. "Too bad" he muttered, taking a long drag of some carcinogen laced stick. As he exhaled a breath of smoke, two of the raptors looked his way, behind their crimson masks they shifted nervously. Zsinj seldom sent his right hand out on mere raids anymore, not since Dathomir, not since. One swallowed, it was almost audible and Rua chuckled as he tossed his "cig" into the rain and slid the sleak, rebreather he used instead of the traditional Mandalorian combat helm over his cheeks and mouth. "Ask your question Epps" Rua liked to know the surnames of as many of the Raptors as possible, both because Zsinj considered a personal touch important and because it meant they obeyed him not simply because the Emperor instructed them too. But because they held an element of trust in their Emperors right hand man. "Well, are you here because of the terrorist attack on..on that"

Rua laughed, it was a good question, Zsinj was furious, not so much for the horrific ways those poor sods died but because of the fact that Tyber Zann thought he could run a drug ring in Empire turf without his leave. Only the Hutts Zsinj allowed to take refuge within his borders could run major organized rackets and only because they cut Zsinj and Rua in. Hutts, Rua still wasn't sure how Zann managed to conquer hutt space and the outerrim when The Republic, Jedi, Sith and even the Mandalorians gave up doing so after each wasted millennia of time and countless billions of lives in the attempts. Filing that inquiry in the back of his mind Rua eyed the man "You mean to ask, am I here because there's a force user inside?"

The Raptor nodded and Rua grinned "If it's just the adept, your boys can handle him easily enough. But I want you to leave him to me"

"If it's just the adept?"

Rua's eyes flashed a malevolent gleam as the silence was abruptly strangled by a violent roar as the main doors of the pyramidal vault tore off, vaporizing in a column of fire that roared into the air streaking upwards for hundreds of meters, tossing durasteel and plasteel debris everywhere. Rua blinked "Those weren't my bombs"

"since when do we go in through the front?" Another series of explosions went off across the complex, nixing power generators and defensive systems "ahh that's more like it" -So someone else is here- whoever that someone was, it wasn't this Sereno noble turned Jedi Master, turned eccentric art collector. The man Zsinj had described was far too clever to run in through the front.

In the pandemonium their Raptors closer to the base began to engage the enemy and crimson and green blaster fire lit up the night. "Alright, while our guys fight through the sides, lets make use of the entrance we were just gifted!"

"uhh but what do we do about whoever made that entrance?"

Rua shrugged "Detain 'em for questioning, if its too much of a fight just toss a tag on 'em and let 'em run, we'll hunt 'em down later. We're here for the schematics boys and the starcharts, the rest is immaterial so don't waste your lives trying to gran poodu Emperor Zsinj doesn't need!"

They nodded and let out a combined "howwaah!" and began to charge forward, Rua allowed the men to rush down the sloping ground a few hundred meters before he activated the AG tech on his boots and jumped into the air. Tossing a few small plastiglass viles ahead at several of what looked like black clad regular army -Kriff...Elite...what the Kriff was in here?-

Ja'Karr, you clever bastard...break'n in here without anyone noticing?

The men lit up in flames as Rua led the Raptors forward towards the breach Elites with Ewebs were spraying blindly out towards targets that existed only in their panicked minds.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

Dozo

Name: Dozo Besadii Zor Known as “Dozo the Hutt” or “His immensity, Lord Dozo The Gallant”

Age: 127

Race: Hutt

Brief Bio:

bio

Dozo was one of the last Hutt’s to be born of Aruk the great, ancient and illustrious leader of the Besadii Kajidic. The older sibling of Durga Besadii Tai (Durga the Hutt), Dozo grew up in his younger siblings shadow and yet despite this and rare for Hutt culture, the two were thick as thieves. The loyalty between “brothers” was odd among Hutts but it allowed the two to become a formidable pair. Where Durga handled the intellectual and administrative matters where Dozo was the enforcement arm of the Besadii Kajidic. When the Zann Consortium and black sun managed to somehow tear through Hutt Space (To the shock of many) it was Dozo’s valiantly planetary defense of a Hutt Throne World that allowed Durga to broke a surrender treaty between the two organized crime syndicates turned Galactic superpowers and to keep the Hutts alive. Durga became a Vigo of the black Sun and Dozo was seen to publicly condemn and betray his bother. Siding with Tyber Zann over the Black Sun it was said this was perhaps the only time the brothers had ever fought and it was the most bitter. Dozo currently runs one of the larger mercantile caravans for Zann who believes it has kept him out of the action. Outwardly Dozo appears content and loyal to Zann, his hatred of The Black Sun and vengeance towards his brother infamous.

Faction: The Zan Consortium (The Hutt species truly): While he outwardly pretends to hate his brother and pursues vengeance against him due to forsaking Hutt Culture and the Kajidics and “aiding in our downfall”, in truth he and his brother are still thick as thieves and this is a plan by them to weaken both sides from within. Secretly both Durga and Dozo are allied to Raveem and the Remnant and to an as of yet unknown ally.

Personality: While most Hutts value a sedentary life, Dozo is a warrior through and through. His “father” once said much of the ancient Hutts and their martial prowess resided in him. He’s proud, oddly eloquent for a Hutt and speaks several languages openly, though he revels in artistic use of profanity. Dozo is not a strategic thinker, but his tactical acumen is almost masterful. While he’s terrible at long term, subtle planning his flexibility stands at a healthy contrast to his brothers’ intractability. Dozo is fanatically loyal to Hutt culture and the Kajidic. Decades ago, A Jedi Knight named Dooku and another Jedi from Sereno disrupted some of his plans and Dozo engaged them both in combat earning Dooku’s respect as the Hutt also gained a strong appreciation for Jedi martial prowess. Despite being a Hutt he has a strong sense of honor and longs for the day when the Hutt cartels can become trading consortiums that rival the corporate sector. Fusing legal and illegal gains to create a second Hutt Golden Age.

He misses his brother and thirsts for revenge against those who truly wronged the Hutt.

Physical description: Dozo is massive, despite his youth, easily three times the size of Hutts hundreds of years his senior. However, where those Hutts are often immensely obese and sedentary creatures. Dozo is an impassible wall of muscle and anti grav harnesses shave off just enough of his weight that he can move like lightning. He is a dark orange color with tiger stripes streaking along his chest and shoulders and his “tail” (In reality, it’s a Foot since Hutts are gastropods), looks more like a lizards and he’s known for wearing a mace or morning star at the end of it, made of a Beskar-durasteel alloy. “Dozo The Gallant” is a moniker he earned in battle against Dooku and has proceeded to do everything he can to prove himself worthy of the title and in doing so, redeem the Hutts as a race of warrior poets bringing civilization and great heaping mountains of profit and whores to the cosmos.

Equipment: A morning star on his tail, micro-AG generators that he wears on his body that look like ornately gemmed armor. He dual wields a pair of Songsteel lance like spears and its said they reflect the light of blaster bolts and lightsabers giving him an eerie prismatic aura in battle. He’s said to cut quite a gallant figure

Ship (Optional): The Ascent, an old Pius Dea Cathedral ship repurposed into the command vessel for Zanns cargo fleets and his personal estates. It’s been largely disarmed, supposedly any way. As Zann trusts his hatred but not enough to let him fly around in a fully armed capital ship.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@countlessinsect

Lythos IX Corporate Sector


"Truly, I'm surprised she objected to such a presence on the Island, not that I'm complaining. Shore leave was a damn sight for sore eyes" A member of the 104 muttered, he was sitting on a rock. Lazily enjoy the tropical breeze while his fellow soldier, both off duty enjoyed a leg from one of the immense water fowls sold at the local market. None of them had enjoyed fresh meat since Endor, when Imperial access to agriworlds suddenly became tightly rationed. Feeding Coruscant and the other world cities in the core and colonies region became integral to keeping riotous populations down and thus the military (outside of the command level officers and the flags of course) had been stuck on combat meal packs for months. Dreskal, the one currently devouring the roasted leg with enthusiasm only a Hutt could match muttered something about avoiding the tropical fruits. Earlier, one soldier picked the wrong one and shat himself to death from dehydration before anyone realized. Invictus Janus said something of a force prayer at his funeral, that had been on the first night of a four day stay.

Aladar had wept, wept! No inquisitor nor Acolyte, nor Hand nor wannabe Sith had ever shown the clemency of those two and a sense of religious fervor was building in the Long demoralized Remnant forces. But it was so much more than that, word had begun to spread from their lips to the farmers and then to the ports. The Galactic Empire was changing, it was a new day and the discordant, divisive republic and the solitary Pentastar alignment and Zsinj's gilded Empire would all soon look like poor options!

At least. that's what the men said.

"The Janus family is pretty high brow, she's probably used to pomp but I think she's worried about Pentastar thugs coming to bother us, where she'd be a lot less conspicuous alone."

The fowl eater shrugged, both failed to notice the soft tracks in the sand before they were carried off in the breeze. As had the sentries of the vaunted five hundred and first, who walked between trees and foliage and passed in front of a waterfall as the Highsinger passed behind it, mistaking his crested head for that of a tropical bird. A few hundred men, even energized warriors willing to fight for their new leader made for a great deterrence against divisions of enemy soldiers. They did not, however make for a good deterrent when the threat was a lone killer or a small clique of elites. Over the past seventy two hours the men relaxed more and Invictus Janus slept for ten to sixteen hours out of most days, lazing in the sun as a great serpent who'd just begun to digest an enormous meal. The Inquisitor turned Apprentice, had taken to guarding her until she was told to practice her force to muscle control exercises from the old days in the Jedi temple. Swimming around the tropical islands was both a welcoming exercise and a fun diversion, in truth it was hard to imagine anyone threatening her.

Perhaps that had been her mistake, for one morning during exercise meditations her senses, amplified by her change in emotions bristled through the force. Something approached, something artificial and at first she thought it was merely a serving droid only for its footfalls to sound heavier, more concealing, more...threatening? The apprentice rose to her feet, whirring around a hand resting on her Lightsaber until the droid which was partly obscured by the sun uttered a word that almost floored her.... "Master" and it was stated with almost reverence? She could detect no menace which was odd because evidently the Highsinger bounty hunting and assassination droid was not only real but standing beside her master?! Part of her wanting to yell and reprimand the soldiers but another part of her realized how correct Master had been in her observance that the large number of men weren't going to protect her from any real threats. "Stand back!" Aladar was dense, as her master was fond of saying, but she wasn't stupid (As her master was also fond of pointing out), she wasn't going to attack this droid, jump the gun and over react based on his breaching the perimeter but, she also wasn't going to allow it to get too close until she rose.

To Aladar's surprise a hand rose in reassurance and the woman rose from her seat, as a serpent climbing a wall. The woman let out a breath and smiled as an ocean breeze passed through her bone white hair. "Ah, forgive me for not warning you dear apprentice, but I wished to both test your senses and..I wished to test the abilities of our guest" Mryia turned her head slightly, enough that her eyes locked on to Highsinger "Neither of you disappointed me" Though the way she said it, implied the notion of either of them failing her was simply impossible.

"I had despaired most at the thought of your death, you know?" She'd used the word death instead of deactivation or destruction for to Miryia there was no difference between Highsinger and the few organic sentients that she considered worth the various gasses they breathed. She had been engineered to live a around fourteen hundred years without taking force potential into the equation, but she knew her half human children likely died before they reached five or six hundred years and her grandchildren and great grandchildren were all dead and entombed at the Janus necropolis, none of this grieved her, for her genetic lineage lived on in minor branches of House Janus (though that was a tad bit insulting), she knew her progeny lived and died well. But the thought of knowing nothing about the fate of the Highsinger had brought her to tears.

It was funny how the heart worked and it was another example of how stupid Jedi were for trying to suppress emotion instead of wielding it intelligently. "Only to see patterns of the one I helped construct in the bounties collected on a dozen worlds since my departure. On, the assassinations of many others. The viral containment failure in the research outpost at Aquarius was a particularly brilliant maneuver, was it not the same strategy we implemented on Wu'han Four in the ninth year of the war?" Her eyes flickered with a zeal, a fire that was unmistakably hers. Though, the confirmation of her identity was given a secondary verification when she'd spoken of something only she could know as the rest of the Galaxy seemed to still believe both incidents were just misfortunes. Though the Wu'han breached had killed something like fifteen of the thirty two billion sentients she'd destroyed during her grand crusade against the Sith and the Aquarius outbreak only brought down a few warlords and their attendants.

"And the recent one, the terrorist attack on that space station, I've heard Emperor Zsinj is blaming Tyber Zann, how could I not recognize my Highsinger?" here, Miryia extended a hand gently grabbing the wrist of her apprentice, leading the taller woman almost as a mother would lead a child.

"Apprentice Aladar, meet the only other sentient besides yourself who has the honor of knowing me, wholly and totally. The Highsinger, my lance in the dark, my crimson left hand"

"My, gray rider."

Death with servos.

The apprentice bowed to her predecessor as Miryia turned her whole body and faced Highsinger. "Yes, it is me old friend, I yet live and there is so much still to be done!"

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

Dozo

Name: Dozo Besadii Zor Known as “Dozo the Hutt” or “His immensity, Lord Dozo The Gallant”

Age: 127

Race: Hutt

Brief Bio:

bio

Dozo was one of the last Hutt’s to be born of Aruk the great, ancient and illustrious leader of the Besadii Kajidic. The older sibling of Durga Besadii Tai (Durga the Hutt), Dozo grew up in his younger siblings shadow and yet despite this and rare for Hutt culture, the two were thick as thieves. The loyalty between “brothers” was odd among Hutts but it allowed the two to become a formidable pair. Where Durga handled the intellectual and administrative matters where Dozo was the enforcement arm of the Besadii Kajidic. When the Zann Consortium and black sun managed to somehow tear through Hutt Space (To the shock of many) it was Dozo’s valiantly planetary defense of a Hutt Throne World that allowed Durga to broke a surrender treaty between the two organized crime syndicates turned Galactic superpowers and to keep the Hutts alive. Durga became a Vigo of the black Sun and Dozo was seen to publicly condemn and betray his bother. Siding with Tyber Zann over the Black Sun it was said this was perhaps the only time the brothers had ever fought and it was the most bitter. Dozo currently runs one of the larger mercantile caravans for Zann who believes it has kept him out of the action. Outwardly Dozo appears content and loyal to Zann, his hatred of The Black Sun and vengeance towards his brother infamous.

Faction: The Zan Consortium (The Hutt species truly): While he outwardly pretends to hate his brother and pursues vengeance against him due to forsaking Hutt Culture and the Kajidics and “aiding in our downfall”, in truth he and his brother are still thick as thieves and this is a plan by them to weaken both sides from within. Secretly both Durga and Dozo are allied to Raveem and the Remnant and to an as of yet unknown ally.

Personality: While most Hutts value a sedentary life, Dozo is a warrior through and through. His “father” once said much of the ancient Hutts and their martial prowess resided in him. He’s proud, oddly eloquent for a Hutt and speaks several languages openly, though he revels in artistic use of profanity. Dozo is not a strategic thinker, but his tactical acumen is almost masterful. While he’s terrible at long term, subtle planning his flexibility stands at a healthy contrast to his brothers’ intractability. Dozo is fanatically loyal to Hutt culture and the Kajidic. Decades ago, A Jedi Knight named Dooku and another Jedi from Sereno disrupted some of his plans and Dozo engaged them both in combat earning Dooku’s respect as the Hutt also gained a strong appreciation for Jedi martial prowess. Despite being a Hutt he has a strong sense of honor and longs for the day when the Hutt cartels can become trading consortiums that rival the corporate sector. Fusing legal and illegal gains to create a second Hutt Golden Age.

He misses his brother and thirsts for revenge against those who truly wronged the Hutt.

Physical description: Dozo is massive, despite his youth, easily three times the size of Hutts hundreds of years his senior. However, where those Hutts are often immensely obese and sedentary creatures. Dozo is an impassible wall of muscle and anti grav harnesses shave off just enough of his weight that he can move like lightning. He is a dark orange color with tiger stripes streaking along his chest and shoulders and his “tail” (In reality, it’s a Foot since Hutts are gastropods), looks more like a lizards and he’s known for wearing a mace or morning star at the end of it, made of a Beskar-durasteel alloy. “Dozo The Gallant” is a moniker he earned in battle against Dooku and has proceeded to do everything he can to prove himself worthy of the title and in doing so, redeem the Hutts as a race of warrior poets bringing civilization and great heaping mountains of profit and whores to the cosmos.

Equipment: A morning star on his tail, micro-AG generators that he wears on his body that look like ornately gemmed armor. He dual wields a pair of Songsteel lance like spears and its said they reflect the light of blaster bolts and lightsabers giving him an eerie prismatic aura in battle. He’s said to cut quite a gallant figure

Ship (Optional): The Ascent, an old Pius Dea Cathedral ship repurposed into the command vessel for Zanns cargo fleets and his personal estates. It’s been largely disarmed, supposedly any way. As Zann trusts his hatred but not enough to let him fly around in a fully armed capital ship.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

I CAN APPROVE MYSELF, MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH- but yeah, I asked him if it all checked out, I've been meaning to get her cs together for a while I have just been lazy about getting it typed up and then in the character tab.

@TheWatchDog

also, are you in the discord? if not i can send you a link.

@Jollan

I am indeed! I am Dark Enemy there, if that wasn't obvious

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

Lythos IX Corporate Sector

It had been amusing to her, immensely so to hear the Vessel's Captain and her apprentice attempt to dissuade her from landing on Lythos Nine, the sleepy Agriworld had been almost a blip on the radar before her long sleep and evidently that hadn't changed. One of thousands of what were called "harvest worlds", the breadbaskets of the expansion region and of Coruscant and other world cities. They were a dime a dozen, perhaps more so now. To think this "corporate sector Authority" were at all going to sniff them out on this world was a laughable notion, even if their paranoia was expected and proper. -They're not all a lost cause- she thought, some of these Remnant officers simply needed reminding that they were soldiers and that even if she was a "xeno" she was still a Janus and still, their superior. Her eyes narrowed every so lightly as the solar rays of the planet's primary danced along crystal clear water that allowed for visibility up to seventy meters. Water so pure it made a prism of itself at noon, that had been a sight she caught on her first day here. What a majestic sight to behold, a whirling swirl of refractive light reminded her of the intensity of her first immersion into the force, so long ago.

Ahead of her, the former Inquisitor sat, on her knees immersing herself in the force as per her teachings. The first, true immersion the woman likely ever experienced. -we would suppress our emotions and listen to the force, channel it, or try too- Aladar had explained and -Lord Vader taught us to seek out the darkside with our fury, let it act as a lure, guide it in with bait and then subjugate it-. Of course that had never worked apparently and all she could manage was to fuel her own self hatred and guilt, her powers were stunted and she would have succumbed to darkside rot had she not mustered up the courage to seek out her better for council. fortunately, Miryia thought for she refused to take an ugly person, mottled and ruined by a moronic interpretation of how to effectively wield the darkness. She'd have killed the former inquisitor then, instead opting to teach the aesthetically and psychologically pleasing woman, though slowly for she wasn't anywhere near emotionally ready to begin to call upon the dark. To learn to refine and wield the profane material and avoid the damage therein, one must first needed to become a burning, beacon of light. To take the raw untempered core energies of the "lightside" of the force into oneself until one became a roaring furnace, a crucible fueled by the very substance that would burn away the impurities of the dark, permitting one to fold it, mold it and shape it while insulated by that most vibrant of flames. It had taken Apprentice Aladar time to comprehend this, but she could begin to detect the subtle changes in her body, the gentle regrowth of wearing muscles, the restoration of arteries that had hardened due to the violence of her youth and her adult life. -It is perverse how underutilized her talent was- the Sith, she expected to be dismissive imbeciles, their brains addled by overuse of the darkside. But the Jedi? Her former peers?

It was blasphemously disgusting.

-vile, contemplative buffoons- hands gripped around a lavish chair which obscured most of her body from the rays of tropical sun that browbeat many a spacer who'd not absorbed proper UV in quite some time. For Miryia, the sojourn on Lythos, represented not only a chance for her to test her theory, but for her to relax, to rest her mind, reconstitute her powers and stabilize her "forge" the manner in which she described the inner will of a force wielder, the wrights of the so called higher mysteries used to perform the feats lesser beings deemed miraculous. How could she have both succeeded beyond her expectations and yet failed so ruinously? Had she not planned to ensure the war would endure the ages? Culminate in the extinction of both orders? And perhaps it had, in the end, though it took an extra thousand years. Lamentably it had left everything else intact, a thing she would have to remedy. -the expenditure was well worth it- she thought, in participating in that coup de'tat and performing a minor miracle mere hours after she'd reinvigorated the faith many had in "force users" and in doing so gained no small amount of followers and her new rank, the "cultural soul" of the Empire. Charged with uniting the masses behind the idea of the New Order.. "Pontifex Invictus" she rolled the title around on her tongue again, ah yes, it was worth it but it would be nothing compared to what would come. For now though, only two things remained ahead of her, the infiltration of the Jedi Praxeum, to comprehend that soulless monstrosity and his order of pretenders.

And, to reunite with a very old friend.

Ahead of her, the woman who had been dismissed as fodder but the talentless, the stupid and the dull, delved deeply into her being and soon, her soul too began to burn within the force.

The Serpent smiled..

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

Crested killers, history books and blades



"Do you know what the meaning of the word Jedi?"

"It means one serves"

The look in the Woman's eyes caused Rheanessya to cast her gaze to the floor, sometimes she felt like she was a child again back at the temple, other times the look in her master's eyes scared her more than the Grand Inquisitors had, but it was the disappointment that always cut deepest. "You are correct, but it comes from the Palawan word "Je'daii which means mystic" though Je'daii is itself a corruption of the Dai bendu word "Jee'dai" which means?"

"forceful sage?" she was trying, frantically to recall lessons that she'd barely stayed conscience through as a child, below the haze of depression , and the pervasive haze of the darkside. three fingers touched her chin elevating her face so that she was looking down into a pair of purple eyes that held within them frustration, but for the first time in her life, no contempt stare back at her. "Force Wright"

"The precursors to the Jedi likened themselves to smiths"

This was news to her, but it also made an odd degree of sense. Wielding the force had always felt less like invocation to her and more like manipulation in a technical sense. "Sometimes, I feel stupid..Master, my knowledge base"

"You were lied too, though I doubt your first master did so malevolently, long before any of us or our foremothers and fathers, a lie was told enough that it became history" Do not despair of that. The Jedi deceived via ignorance" It had reassured her. "You are dense Apprentice Aladar, you would not have come to such a sorry state were you not, but dense is not dumb and ignorance is only a sin when the ignorant chose to remain so"


-She's right- Rheanessya Aladar thought blocking a side thrust from the purple eyed woman who stood near a head shorter than her. A dark indigo blade collided with her crimson Lightsaber and the blow was furious, enough that it would have staggered many of her former peers, but Nessya as she was called in private by her master(where she chose to show an almost familial affection). Had always been much taller, much stronger than most women and a good deal of men within the order of the inquisitors and the force had only served to reinforce that. The blows were going to leave her sore, but they lacked the force the former Master Jedi could have brought to bear. -She's rusty- deadly, Nessya thought, a master of the styles she knows, but rusty. In the days following their initial exchange the former Inquisitor had eagerly thrown herself into her education, but the days were often spent attending reorganization meetings and greeting the newly made Grand Moffs and Grand Admirals and conferring on Hissa his new rank of Grand Vizier, Gilad Pellaeon Supreme Commander and to the surprise of and concern of her master and herself, merely reaffirming existing ranks for Ysanne Isard. Director general Raveem had been the easiest to please, he was content with his rank, but was given a bit more budgetary oversight and was compensated with a hefty bribe (Being given overlordship over a populated moon, that paid him taxes rather than the Empire) for his "modest contributions" which in reality were hardly "modest", without his movements none of that could have been possible. An indigo blade raked her cheek and Rheanessya Aladar barked out a cry of pain and stumbled backwards, rusty due to being of practice but even in matters of Lightsaber combat her new master was lightyears ahead of her.

She thanked her stars that the Woman's lightsaber came with a control dial that allowed her to turn the power down to sparring levels otherwise the bruise on her cheek would have been a missing face. Her lightsaber on the other hand, Miryia insisted that Nessya use it without any kind of modifier of filtration device, but to come at her with a lethal blade. She'd hesitated at first, hesitation which always made her the disgrace among the inquisitors and part of her feared similar derision but the woman merely flashed her an indignant look and asked her in a haughty voice if she believed her master was too weak to fend for herself. Once or twice, she'd flinched at that tone, memories of Miryia slaughtering her peers and pinning her to the floor bowed filled her head. But Miryia seemed true to her word! In the seventy two hours they'd been together she'd observed that the woman certainly got angry with her staff and her servants and the 501st, she'd lost her temper once with Nessya as well, but no violence ever came of it or venomous recrimination. -That trooper was as shocked as I was when she didn't force choke him, she merely called him a Bantha brained giblet eater and ordered him to do calisthenics to make up for his failure- a military woman's punishment not a Sith's. Morale was up, they felt like soldiers again and Rheanessya Aladar realized she'd begun to feel like a Knight again. Their blades crossed again, this time Miryia switched her styles from Juyo to Ataru and the Apprentice's eyes widened, rusty she might have still been but this time it was an entirely different level of skill. -Was she fighting me in a style she was unfamiliar with?!- "How long has it been master?" She'd asked when their blades locked and they were within centimeters of each other.

"Since I've wielded a lightsaber in battle? excluding the millennia I slept, seventy years" That last bit was uttered, with something almost akin to shame. Rheanessya yelped when they broke blades and her master suddenly switched to Makashi and she was "stabbed" in the thigh. Miryia tried again, Rheanessya managed to block that time and her follower up but the third hit her under the right breast and wind had been knocked out of her. Miryia had one, only one scratch on her clothing, a burn mark between her shoulder and breast where Rheanessya had gotten off the start of a strike before the woman's reflexes pulled her back. To her shock, her master appeared thankful. The candor was a balm to her soul, Miryia was always so guarded, except around the (now) 501st General Cardinal and her, though she showed traces of the same with the Bothan and Supreme Commander Pellaeon, though it seemed at times calculated with the old man. "You're learning apprentice" "and the rust is falling off your scales master"

A small smile graced her face "A snake am I?" she asked, a tone that seemed to be lyrical with laughter. Her blade disengaged and she walked over to the taller woman and pulled some errant strands of hair out of her face. Rheanessya had changed out of her inquisitorial garb and was wearing a green tunic with similar colored stormtrooper armor in a breast plate below her garb. Those gestures of affection, interspersed between moments where she was vindictively cold with others had confused her at first. It was odd, how she could be so tender towards her student and allies, but so, Sithlike in other ways. -only never call her Sith to her face- Or to her behind either, in reality.

Doors swung open and two regular army soldiers entered, her 104. Behind them, a member of the Royal guard adorned all in crimson, his robes masking his face and a force pike at hand. Miryia turned at an angle, inclining her head to look down at the personal royal guard of the man she'd just crushed to death upon his own throne three days ago and who served the heretic freak before him. Grand Moff Hissa had insisted she take a detail of the Royal guard and fly in one of their capital ships. Miryia was not about to take a kriffing Star Destroyer unescorted anywhere again nor was she going to take an entire ISD battlegroup anywhere near Pentastar space and so she opted to let him have his childish show of force displays and need to "heap prestige" by his own hand upon her and opted to take a Dreadnaught class Heavy Cruiser..one hilariously painted in the colors of the Royal guard...A reminder, that they were broken now and existed on their sufferance.

-A people should know when they're beaten- Miryia had told her. -As I knew- she countered and when her master nodded and asked her why she decided to rise above it, the reason for such harshness became clear. It motivated and her treatment of sentients who did find the strength to rise was always cordial at worst, outright friendly at best. "We're about to come out of hyperspace, we shall enter orbit five minutes after that...Invictus...Janus"

Ah yes, it was insisted that Miryia not merely revive the inquisitors or some other preexisting Imperial title. If she was to be the mother of a new force using order, one sworn to uphold the tenets of Order and keep the imperial peace then they intended to do what the Republic had, make that order the spiritual and cultural "Capital" of the Empire, the codification of its way of life as the Sith had been. The Rank of "Pontifex Invictus" was created for her, she would be the head of a new cult and the commander of its legions, all to reinvigorate the Empire. But that didn't mean the Crimson guard had to like it, nor did it mean she was magically going to forgive them for siding with weakness and in doing so, nearly costing the Galaxy everything.

Invictus Janus, it meant the Imperial Remnant was now ruled by a tripod of power. A thing Rheanessya knew to be incredibly unstable, fortunately she was her mistress' support as it seemed were her allies.

Ysane Isard had proposed that title, the former title of the Supreme Commander of the Humanocentric, Jedi killing cult Pius Dae that had been wiped out some ten thousand years before the coming of the Sith and had been in their day. The woman's passive aggression backfired when she gladly took the title "to claim it in the name of those they sought to destroy"

"Have you begun broadcasting the signal?"

"As you have instructed Invictus Janus"

"Set us down, someplace sunny, he rather liked the sound of tropical birds"

The Crimson clad praetorian looked up, but Miryia dismissed him with a gesture before slowly curling in a turn, allowing her robes to wrap about her body in a way that indeed, reminded Nessya of serpent scales. "You have questions apprentice"

"Won't enemies notice the call?"

Miryia waited a moment, allowing Nessya to process what she'd just asked and then the woman blushed "forgive me..any personal code you transmit would be two thousand years old" though, she thought, it might still be on record, a database of cold distress and call signals maintained to ensure no rescue vessels were dispatched chasing ghosts from millennia passed. Sensing this Miryia inclined her head in an almost imperceptible nod. "But this was a code of mine in no records, for only one other person in the Galaxy used it"

Nessya raised her eyebrows, who, from those ancient times could still be alive? Beside her?