Dominion A Stab in the Dark | TSC Dominion of Obulette

[Ives]

Obulette
Worker transport shuttle
The way home

A horn marked end-of-shift. All workers piled into transports. The news-cast showed images of a discussion panel between Obulette's elites and the prime-time news host. The topic of discussion seemed to be some shift in power for the local star clusters, but Ives didn't pay attention.

His mind wandered to an hour from now, when he'd unlock the door to his apartment and finally get a warm shower in. He'd turn the heater on today. Even if he didn't quite understand what had happened, the money he made was quite real. A handful gone for a day with warm water didn't sound like a terrible trade.

Ives' face suddenly met the glass. Some dirtbag had bumped into him. Nothing uncommon in the overcrowded transport. Ives had a mind to let it go, but the bozo kept Ives pinned there.

Shit, Ives cursed silently. He was about to get robbed. Someone must have seen when Bortrom had split the large wad of credits.

Ives held still. There wouldn't be any point in attempting to fight. At this point, he'd already become the metaphorical morsel between the metaphorical wolf's teeth. Any sign of resistance, and he might end up missing a few litres of blood alongside those credits.

The would-be robber shoved Ives harder into the glass, elbow digging into Ives' ribs.

"Don't you go getting ideas of turning your life around as a casino star, daydreamer," the robber kept his voice quiet, but with a strange edge to it. Like he was making a joke that Ives wasn't in on.

"You'll find your luck more limited than you might like, if you test it."

Who the hell was this guy?

Ives finally made an attempt to struggle, pushing back to turn around and get a glimpse of the man's face. He couldn't even budge the robber an inch. Whoever this guy was, he had an obscene amount of strength, and Ives' attempts to break free only elicited an asmued chuckle.

"Now, don't try to shake yourself awake early. You've still got a few hours before the alarm bell rings."

As if on cue, a loud buzz filled the transport, accompanied by the clang of magnetic locks de-powering. The doors swung open and that mass of workers began pouring outside. The stranger shoved Ives along the wall and onto the floor. Ives immediately tried to scramble to his feet, doing his best to avoid the heavy worker boots stomping along all around him. He caught the edge of a seat with his hand, clinging to it like a lifeline, and used it to pull himself up.

Barely on his feet, he was already getting shoved around by the workers trying to push their way past him. A tide of faces he barely recognized. Any one of them could be the would-be robber.

Ives pressed himself against the transport wall, to obstruct the others as little as possible as they made their exit. Bit by bit the transport emptied, until Ives was left alone, save for one or two workers who'd dozed off on the way.

There was no sign of the would-be robber. No clue as to who he was or what he'd even wanted. All the credits were still safely inside Ives' jacket.

Ives let out a long breath, digging up a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it with shaking hands.

"NO SMOKING INSIDE THE TRANSIT VEHICLE," a mechanized voice immediately crackled over the intercom.

Ives took it as his cue to leave.

 

[Darth Amaymon]

​

"Darth Amaymon, welcome, I am glad you could spare the time to attend. Please, come watch this, I think you will enjoy it."

The red titan moved through the space as though the air itself had little right to oppose him. He observed the summons of attention, noted the language. It was polite, careful, meant to soothe but whatever effect it potentially could of had was void. Courtesy was never respect; it was a hollow dead thing to the Sith Lord. Though such verbiage did serve a purpose and what exactly that purpose was had yet to be revealed. With a reflective pause his memory invoked the message of his invitation and it formed in his minds eye.

By order of the Triumvirate, Lords Mercy Star-arm, Arris Windrun, and Vestra Tane, a hearing has been convened regarding issues of loyalty within our Covenant. Your attendance is compulsory. Upon receiving this missive, report to Level 351, Mecetti Tower, Obulette. Complimentary drinks and canapes will be available on arrival.​

This so called hearing was an audience of sorts and was currently in either a staging phase or the Covenant was full of hypocrites. It was plausible that both were correct at once. To be summoned by order of the Triumvirate and then greeted as if Kezeroth came of his own will. Strange. The invitation in his hand slowly pressed together in his fist. Crumpled to a tightly compact ball and then tossed onto the carpet only to roll away. Psychologically, Amaymon found the room a study in misdirection. Two acolytes, a woman and her assistant. The air smelled faintly of pleasant incense and had a tinge of something more subtle. Under his scrutinizing eye the environment was designed to put one at ease, yet something in the arrangement was off. The woman’s reaction to her associate, a twitch in posture, a hesitation behind an assumed practiced form. It had not gone unnoticed. It was a small signal, and the red titan had cataloged it into memory with a slow blink. Acer’s eyes lingered too long. Anet's gaze seemed to drift. Weighed with uncertainty. Perhaps it was nothing, but perhaps it was enough to set him in motion. He cataloged these minor cues, yet remained silent.

When beckoned, Amaymon did not comply immediately. Instead, he paced, a deliberate motion, feeling the vibrations of the floor under his boots, listening to the subtle shift in the air as each presence adjusted to him. It was possible that his slow, measured movements could unsettled those adjacent. When he finally approached, he did so not to sit, not to acknowledge any spoken word, but to exist and exist fiercely at that. Arms folded across the massive half armored chest. Delivering a stare toward Acier Moonbound , Anet Raine , the fleeting figure of Rae Cooke and back to their apparent host Madelyn Lowe . Amaymon curled his upper lip in a snarl and tilted his head slightly at hearing the acolytes question aloud. Though he himself could not contest them. Amaymon was just as curious as they, though growing more impatient outwardly by the moment.

As he was known and would be known.

The lightclub returned to the utility belt with a heavy mechanical click that echoed faintly, a punctuation that may or may not have reminded others of potential consequences. " Hmmm?" He growled a hum.

 

[Kyber]

​

Tag: Shego Striga Seren Gwyn Tamsin Starfall Vestra Tane
Equipment: 3 lightsabers, cloaking device, 2 Shadowghoul droids

Kyber found himself intrigued by word of a new power in the galaxy. Like many others he quickly decided to show his value taking on a job dealing with some order of assassins. Kyber found himself working with a master of poisons in some temporary lab that they had dragged some unfortunate soul into its depths for a little fun questioning.

Whatever the toxin Shego had made looked oh so beautiful as did most abominations to existence did. the thoughts of what horrors it could potentially inflict just made Kyber giddy with excitement and today he would get to witness it all. "This One is watching Vitals, That One is stable for now other than increased heart rate." While it might not be as fun as focusing on how the person reacts to the toxin at least the vitals monitor would provide the internal data of what is going on to a soul.

What did Shego mean by going in blind, was this not them doing a bit of interrogating so they don't go in blind or did she mean something else entirely. Kyber felt as the force concentrated around them unlike anything he had felt before. Kyber felt as if his very soul was being grabbed by the force as it demanded everything, wanting to know everything. Kyber shielded his mind returning his focus to the vitals monitor "That One's heart rate is rapidily rising further, Multiple organs already showing signs of failure." Kyber now believed he understood what was going on. She was using the venom to break the targets mental walls to invade their mind.

When Shego suddenly told Kyber to stabilize the target with the blue injection Kyber almost didn't want to, he wanted to see more, to know more of the Venom and witness its glory. No it was unwise to make an enemy of someone who could create such wonders especially when they could be useful with his own experiments. Kyber began the blue injection a second later than he should have.

Kyber quickly activated his comm unit to send the data he was just provided onto secure Covenant provided communications "This One Is Kyber reporting that important security information has been gathered. Those Ones currently infiltrating Target Mando Eshan Chancellor Rancor Opal Sith Alpha These Ones are sending Those Ones passwords, Biometric data and other useful information." Just as Shego had asked the data was sent in short bursts and not instant with the first piece of data being usable passwords. Kyber would then order one of his Shadowghould droids to enter prepare to enter the facility cloaked incase transmission errors were detected to deliver the information personally to known personal.

Kyber began to clap "Oh that was exquisite. This One must know what that toxin was that That One has created." If others working with the covenant were half as interesting as Shego then it would be oh so much fun to work with them.

​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not speak right away.

She remained where she was, half in shadow, half in the spill of harsh portable light, watching the aftermath with quiet attention. The lab still hummed. The air still carried the metallic tang of fear and chemicals. The man in the chair still breathed.

Only when the immediate tension ebbed did she move, slow and unhurried, stopping a short distance from Shego and Kyber.

Her gaze lingered on the captive for a moment before she spoke.

"That… was precise," Seren said softly. Not praise. Not criticism. Simply truth. "And costly."

She shifted her attention back to Shego, her tone thoughtful rather than evaluative.

"Dissolving defenses instead of forcing them… it leaves fewer scars in the data," she continued. "Even if it leaves more in the mind."

A pause.

"What you pulled out matters," Seren added quietly. "Not just locations and codes. Fear. Uncertainty. How fragile their structure actually is."

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the transmitted data streams, then back.

"That will shape how the others move," she said. "More than any direct strike would."

She did not offer instruction. She did not suggest changes. She merely shared an understanding.

Then, after another breath:

"I appreciate being able to see it done up close," Seren admitted. "Methods like this… they teach you where the real limits are."

Her gaze softened slightly as it returned to Shego.

"You carried more of that than most could," she said. "And you did not lose control."

It was the closest thing to approval she offered.

Finally, she turned her attention outward again, toward distant tunnels and unseen movements.

"Whatever happens next," Seren finished quietly, "they will not be facing certainty anymore. That alone changes everything."

And with that, she fell silent again, present but unobtrusive, letting the others carry the operation forward.

Kyber Shego Striga Tamsin Starfall Vestra Tane

 

[Rae Cooke]

//: Madelyn Lowe //: Anet Raine //: Acier Moonbound //: Darth Amaymon //:
//: Attire //:

They chattered. Rae was still relishing the reaction she had garnered from the Minister. The crack was one for the century, Madelyn Lowe, the face of perfection and calm…

Distracted by a mere trooper assigned as her bodyguard. Rae smirked as she did her best to hide the thrill she got, even more so after the flash of anger that filled Madelyn's face. She would pay for it, she knew it, but it wouldn't be now… but much later. Her eyes pulled away from the Minister; it was now that they settled on the unfortunate souls that were chosen for this little project.

They had no idea, and Rae didn't either — but she needed to act like she did.

The Corellian's attention flickered back towards Lowe as she received the order. It had been a long time since Madelyn was allowed to give her such commands, and Ally— Rae couldn't quip back. She pulled the cigarette from her lips and dropped it to the floor; the toe of her rugged leather boot ground it into the floor without a care.

Her only act of defiance.

"As you command," a sarcastic, lazy little salute over her brow, accompanied by a wink, the woman moved to turn on her heel. It was funny seeing the group completely lost. Rae wondered really what Madelyn was doing in this region of space. They hadn't talked about it, if they had — maybe they could have formulated a plan… together.

The thought weighed on her, but she played the role of assistant and went to retrieve the requested black box. It didn't take her long to grab it and bring it back slowly. She did fight the urge to look and the urge to mess with Madelyn more than she already had.

Slowly, she set it up on one of the chairs, then placed the box on top. Rae continued to prepare the box as she glanced every so slightly back towards Madelyn — trying to get a read on her.

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Anet Raine | Acier Moonbound | Darth Amaymon | Rae Cooke ​

Madelyn managed to keep her face still as Rae squashed the cigarette beneath her heel and winked. In fact, she didn't move a single muscle for several seconds, and it was only when Rae returned with the black box that she let out a small puff of air from her nose. She let the woman sit across from the others, let Amaymon take his place where he wished. She took her place at Rae's side, looking over her shoulder as she studied the contents of the box. She wondered if Rae knew what it was. With all her field experience, Madelyn thought it likely. That was good, setting everything up was probably a two-person job.

"Thank you, Ms Cooke." she purred. She gave Rae's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It was not the way she would have wished to reveal she was assisting the Covenant, but she trusted the woman with her life, and knew she would not reveal it to anyone else. Still, they would have to have a conversation about exactly what Madelyn was doing here, which meant she had to figure that out for herself.

"What's going on?"

"And assist you with what?"

" Hmmm?"

Madelyn did not respond. She let the silence stretch on, enjoying it, and did not spare a glance to her audience. She let Rae work or observe beside her as she wished, as she laid out the materials that made up the evening's centerpiece one by one:

• Two masks, thin enough to sit flush to the face, but spun with a fine nanofibre. Madelyn donned one, and passed the other to Rae.
• A series of sensors, placed around the table at the center of the room. She switched them on and they panned to each of the gathered members, whirring quietly.
• A holographic readout, turned so Madelyn could read it, already filling up with lines of biometric data
• A rectangular black metallic object, with a spout at the top and a reservoir at the base.
• Four bags of blue liquid, laid out in a line beside the machine.

Madelyn turned her emerald gaze to each of them in turn. They had waited long for her explanation. She was lucky they were concerned or curious enough to still give her the room.

"Now we are comfortable and acquainted, I will speak plainly. I have been engaged by the Triumvirate of your Covenant, because you have a spy problem, and these spies have leaked privileged information to your enemies.

"In order to encourage your collaboration. The machine you see in front of you will diffuse a drug into the air known as skirtopanol. I have had to make the dose rather large, as I understand you are both proficient in the Force. I will ask you a series of questions, if I sense you are resistant or evasive, I will increase the dosage, which no doubt will elicit a range of unpleasant and avoidable side effects. Thus, it is best to be honest with me"

Madelyn leaned forward and tapped a nail on the surface of the table, which rang out like a chime. She turned to face the monolithic red Sith Lord.

"Lord Amaymon, you may imbibe and participate, or observe, or leave. I don't mind, because I suspect your Covenant's rats are nested amongst your Acolyte cohort." She glanced back at Anet and Acier and grinned. "Your participation, I'm afraid, is compulsory."

With a practiced motion, Madelyn opened one of the blue bags and dumped it into the receptacle of the diffuser. Instantly, the device whirred and chirped, and a fine mist with a sweet, chemical smell began to spread rapidly across the room.

"You should have eaten." said Madelyn sadly "It would have made you less likely to seize."

"Oh, by the way." Madelyn's fingers drummed against the black case, following the rhythm of the soft music that still filtered across the space. "In case this has suddenly become relevant- If you try to leave without my dismissal, we will make sure that your Triumvirs string you up, or impale you, or whatever it is you do here." Madelyn waved her hand dismissively, as if the concept bored her. "And, if you try to harm me in any fashion, Rae here will kill you. I can assure you she is quite capable."

 

[Varin Mortifer]

He began to make his way into the complex opposite of Lysander to cover more ground. A handful of guards running down the hall stopped in front of him their blasters pointed towards him. They shouted their orders for him to surrender. His eye followed the thick metal walls, surely this hallway could withstand the heat? There was only one way to find out. The T Visor on his helm opened up to reveal his eyes, the molten glowing golden eye brightened for a moment before a wave of extreme heat washed over the group like an ocean of fire.

Their screams echoed over the walls, before each one fell. The smell of burnt armor, hair and flesh clung to the air as he stepped over the bodies. He rounded the corner to see a heavily armored officer wielding a larger shock baton.

Varin drew his blade. He could tell this individual was a leading officer of sorts. Fancier armor and weaponry gave that away. But was it all for show? He wondered.

The officer yelled as he charged forward with his weapon going for a stab towards Varin’s midsection, Varin side stepped arcing his blade downward to block the weapon. Electricity flared around his as the weapon grounded itself to his blade.

Varin flung his backhand to the officer knocking him back.

<Mercy, I may have found someone who could be of use to us.>

He spoke into his comms as the trooper pulled himself up.

<He’s a fighter though, might need to break some limbs.>

The trooper came in for another attack.

Lysander von Ascania | Mercy | Milla | Eurydice
​

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

Theme: Play With Fire
Equipment: Twin Omens | Multi-Tool | Stars Enchained | Mind Crown
TAGS: Vestra Tane | Kyber | Shego Striga | Seren Gwyn

Tamsin's eyes watched along the edges of the peripheral looking for someone in the group that seemed just a little of place. In every group there was a weak link, an inevitability of letting people in. They may on the surface have the same ideals and vision as you, but all beings were driven by their own individuality. That individuality is where chinks in the armor formed. Fear, greed, and pride are just a few weaknesses that dwell in everyone's soul. In some more than others and there was always one at least that could be exploited.

However, the weakness to exploit in this instance and the one Tamsin was carefully looking for on as the leaders began to speak was that of pride. Yet not just a common sense of pride, the arrogant kind that stood out. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she spotted it in a young female assassin. The woman's eyes were painted slightly differently than the others just enough to be noticed.

They wanted to be noticed; they wanted to stand out just a bit from the conformity. Then there was the way the assassin was standing. Every other assassin stood in their own way before the leaders, but they all seemed to humble their posture little when the leaders spoke. However, this woman did not her stance and mannerism tried to posture herself above everyone else gathered.

Some people wouldn't even know it but growing up most of her life as a slave, Tamsin had long ago become an adept people watcher. Had always watched and wondered what people's lives were like. In those days her intent was not malicious, just daydreaming of a life outside her circumstances. How times had changed from then to now she was a predator looking for a victim to use.

A voice began to form in the arrogant woman's mind that stood at the corner of Tamsin's eye. The voice was not that of Tamsin's though but one very similar to her own. It was soft meek, not single angle of malevolence to reveal it as the devil itself that lived inside of Tamsin.

"Look at them up there, preaching their words. Preaching their code. Dictating their laws. Condemning these hostage nobles of the crimes their very order committed. This order would not have power if the sith had not given to them, and many of the great figures of this order died at the hands of jedi supporters. Yet here they are preaching, like hypocrites and serving the jedi either knowingly or in ignorance."​

The Woman assassin twitched a bit looked slightly over her shoulder like she was trying to figure where the voice in her head was coming from. It wasn't exactly like a normal telepathic intrusion, it felt different and it sent a cold chill up the young assassin's spine. It was like something ancient and old had just faded into her thoughts. Something that knew a history of Galaxy deeper than anyone should delve least they go mad.

"Oh, I am not in the room dear child of the dark. I am just a distant observer. Yet one that cannot stand hypocrisy. Look at your leaders, tell me that they are not taking this order down the wrong path. Tell me they are not forgetting their own history. Tell me that on some level the disgusts you, that you could do a better job?"​

Tamsin was unaware of what the demon was telling the prideful assassin though she could see out of the corner of her eye they were tensing up. She watched as the prideful assassin's arm grasped to her weapon her belt. As she listened and observed a communication from Kyber came into her mind crown on the covenant link up. A flood of information scrolled into her mind of schematics, and information some useful some not so.

As her mind skimmed through the information the Demon kept the pressure on the prideful assassin.

"Yes, I feel it in you, you know you can do better. I know you can do better than them. To many great organizations have died by forgetting their past, trying to pretend it didn't exist. Like the Empire that recently fell, forgetting they were once the great hordes of the Maw. Trying to reinvent themselves as civilized Imperials."​

The assassin felt themselves being filled with a dark surge of energy fueled by the demon. Giving them a false sense of power surging in them. Without even realizing the prideful assassin reached for their weapons pulling free from its sheath and rushing forward malice and disgust in their eyes for the leaders they saw a hypocritical. They brazenly believing they could lead better. All hell was about to break loose as the leaders saw one of their own coming for blood. Yet the other sisters of the order would stand to defend their leaders like shields. In the chaos that had begun Tamsin and Vestra Tane could strike.

 

[Anet Raine]

OBJECTIVE TWO
Madelyn Lowe Rae Cooke Darth Amaymon Acier Moonbound

Anet recognized something of frustration, or maybe impatience, if not both, in the large-muscled man. She took it that he was not here under the same pretenses as the paper pusher. But time for consideration was over, as blondie explained the real reason she and Acier were summoned.

"I am not a spy!" She retorted bitterly as if insulted.

But the woman continued to speak as if uninterrupted, which caused Anet to pause and sink back against the couch. Truth Serum?! The acolyte's heart skipped a beat. She had never been drugged before... at least not recreationally... She knew of such serums by reputation. In her father's line of work, they were a common tool. Used to interrogate employees and rivals in cases of corporate espionage. At least officially. She was sure there were other reasons and uses for such substances of dubious legality.

The fact they were being threatened too... Anet's hand balled a bit of her robe under a clenched fist on her thigh. Her jaw tightened, too, and her brow furrowed. All the items - the procedure. The deliberate calmness. It frightened her, truly, because it told Anet all she needed to know. This woman was serious, and she had done this before.

The rest of the room may as well have disappeared, as Anet's icy eyes focused entirely on the diffuser. She thought to hold her breath, but she could already smell it... It smelled.. Sweet?

Her fingertips tingled. Color, sound, touch - it all grew sharper. Her thoughts were paradoxically hazy and clear at the same time, as if they were there, but not for her. When Madelyn threatened to expose them to the Triumvirs or allow her friend to kill them, Anet scowled. She was afraid, yes, but also angry.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Obulette

Equipment:
Acolyte Robes | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

Ace's attention followed the box before Madelyn ever spoke. The masks, the sensors, the way it was all setup. Ace didn't outwardly react, but his focus narrowed all the same.

Then Madelyn said it. A spy problem. Ace kept his expression neutral, shoulders loose, breath steady. Inside, the realization landed hard. So they knew enough to justify this. Enough to bring in an external interrogator, chemical coercion, and a Sith Lord as an audience. This wasn't paranoia, it was reaction.

...and if they were reacting, that meant whatever he'd done had reached far enough to make them nervous. His calm didn't crack. They weren't looking at him yet. They were looking down, at acolytes, at leaks, at cracks in their lower ranks. If they were here, it meant his cover still held. They knew there was a problem. They didn't know who the problem was.

Then Madelyn explained the machine. Truth serum. The word wasn't said, but Ace didn't need it spelled out. The description was enough. Diffusion. Dosage control. Side effects. Compliance.

Outstanding.

He hated anything that reached into his head and loosened his grip on himself. He'd seen it before, years ago, back on Bonadan. Tessk had favored injectables, not mists, but the result was the same. People didn't suddenly become honest. They became unguarded. Rambling. Helpful. Eager to fill silence. Offering pieces they didn't even realize were valuable.

Truth serums didn't force confessions, just removed filters. Ace felt the sweet, chemical edge hit his lungs, the beginnings of lethargy creeping in, thoughts starting to soften around the edges. He didn't fight it, that'd just make it obvious he had something to hide. He let it wash over him instead, accepted the loss of control early, before panic could take root.

Then he made his choice. He wasn't going to deny anything, defend himself, or try to be clever. He'd talk about the system. Essentially vent about how much he hated it. Because it was true, but it didn't mean he was a spy.

Boring truths. Impersonal truths. The kind that felt honest even under chemical influence and gave nothing away. If Madelyn wanted rats, Ace would give her architecture.

He stayed still as the mist spread, face calm, posture unchanged, strategy locked in place.

Madelyn Lowe | Anet Raine | Darth Amaymon | Rae Cooke​

 

[Darth Amaymon]

Tags: Acier Moonbound Anet Raine Madelyn Lowe Rae Cooke
​

"Now we are comfortable and acquainted, I will speak plainly. I have been engaged by the Triumvirate of your Covenant, because you have a spy problem, and these spies have leaked privileged information to your enemies.

"In order to encourage your collaboration. The machine you see in front of you will diffuse a drug into the air known as skirtopanol. I have had to make the dose rather large, as I understand you are both proficient in the Force. I will ask you a series of questions, if I sense you are resistant or evasive, I will increase the dosage, which no doubt will elicit a range of unpleasant and avoidable side effects. Thus, it is best to be honest with me"

Madelyn leaned forward and tapped a nail on the surface of the table, which rang out like a chime. She turned to face the monolithic red Sith Lord.

"Lord Amaymon, you may imbibe and participate, or observe, or leave. I don't mind, because I suspect your Covenant's rats are nested amongst your Acolyte cohort." She glanced back at Anet and Acier and grinned. "Your participation, I'm afraid, is compulsory."

The next couple of moments seemed to move in slow motion for the red titan. Slowly his head tilt re-adjusted and straightened back to its original position. " Skirtopanol." He uttered to himself. More trying out the word than speaking it. His face still held its scowling expression but there was a crack in it as time continued on. Again the words of the invitation sounded and formed in his minds eye and again the sith lord mulled over them in comparison to what he was just told now by Madelyn Lowe . What may of felt like minutes of reflection, was in actuality seconds for his perception and so when Amaymon let a smile grow wider on his face, it seemed to be more reactive than planned. " Ahah! Hahahaha." He bellowed out a bout of laughter and cocked his head back in a way that hinted at genuine joy or a preformative gesture.

It was hard to tell.

Then suddenly the bout of laughter ceased in its tracks and the expression on the sith lords face returned to its normal state, but sharpened by a fierce anger. With a hacking sound and loosing a payload of viscous saliva, Amaymon spat on the red carpet adjacent of Madelyn and the darkside irradiated off the titan. The dark lord overstood the concept of spies infiltrating Covenant ranks and that topic alone was worthy of inclusions. Even so. Why would the Covenant be so concerned with spies and infiltrators this early into their ascension? Deep within his gut the situation felt like a evaluation and just because the two acolytes were suspected of espionage, did not necessarily mean that Amaymon himself was not being observed or tested in kind. That was his evaluation but his sudden spike in anger seemed unprecedented. Something had triggered him but what exactly that was remained a mystery.

Unfurling his arms from his torso, he approached with two long strides and postured! Raising a single hand as if to backhand the diffuser, Madelyn and possibly Rae. Something untamed lingered in his gaze and then retracted further into the fires of his eyes.

Kezeroth's movements slowed and a hand slowly fell away to extend a single finger that prodded the diffusers base with a gentle poke. The result a deliberate motion that made the machine slightly crooked in its base alignment. It was as if whatever thought or habit of violence that sprung into his psyche had fallen away and something else took its place. Something more covert that the prior overt display of emotion and violence. As quickly as the fires of anger flared to life, they now were fanned else where. Yet something was still off about the sith lord.

" I had not planned on staying long." He stated and pivoted to walk about the room. Circling the environment like a bull rancor claiming new territory. Randomly the titan would reverse direction and continue his path. Finally he slowed in pace and after the pause spoke again. " That has now changed." His pace slowed and briefly glancing at the seated acolytes, their body language and then back to Rae and Madelyn. Amaymon placed himself between them both. Not a direct obstruction but rather to the side. Adjacent and lateral to the ongoing investigation. He lowered his colossal figure into a meditative kneeling position. Like a obelisk settling into shifting sands and

" What proceeds further will be your measure. And for your sake I hope you preform adequately."

" Go on at your leisure." Slowly his eye lids closed and his choice was made. He would remain. Imbibe and participate of his own will. Yet whatever danger that had reared its head earlier did not simply vanish. That anger and lust of blood boiled under the surface. Midst rapid and turbulent display of emotions, The sith lord was busy speaking without speaking. Telepathically connecting to Anet Raine and her peer Acier Moonbound and manifesting his voice into their minds.

Investing something into the two acolytes. Subtly instructing them, if they heeded, in a way to endure this encounter. His reasons were his own.

<< " You are weak pathetic things. To allow this woman speak down to you. Where is your anger? Where is your hate? Everything you need to survive this trial is already here. You lack nothing but the will to see it. Pain is inevitable. Accept its embrace. Do not flee from it. Let it carve you open and show you what you truly are. Drink in the fear, the desperation, the envy. Yours and theirs. Feed from it. Shape it. Evolve. If you cannot do this...then you were never meant to be Sith. Either way today you die." >>

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Varin Mortifer Mercy Eurydice Milla
​

Burnt flesh clawed at his nostrils. A slow exhale was released while scanning across the consoles, their screens crackling with static. Squatting down slightly, fingers hovered above the panels.

External feeds collapsed one by one, exterior docking angles blinking dead. He watched the system try to compensate, rerouting signals. Without a hint of urgency, he dismissed them calmly. The internal feeds were left breathing; he could see panic and confusion. Figures were running in every direction. Lysander leaned in closer, forearm bracing against the console, molten eyes brightening as he savored the unfolding tragedies.

The alarms fell silent under his touch next. In that sudden vacuum, the screams of those being slaughtered by Varin were carried farther.

After that came the voice of the station.

And so, outbound transmissions were muted.

With the internal channels wide open; it became.. instructive. Fear bloomed. Commands overlapped. Some even contradicted under pressure. People liked to pretend in moments like these they had more authority, which only served to spread confusion faster.

A brow knitted at one particular voice, amusement lighting his features, then vanishing.

The automated defenses followed, until all were dismantled. Targeting systems died.

Stepping away, Lysander returned to the corridors, blade in hand, and moved deeper into the station.

​

 

[Eurydice]

Obj 3| Mercy Milla Varin Mortifer Lysander von Ascania
​

Darling?

The word sounded strange in her ear. Like silverware clattering against a plate. It only registered now that her questions could've been taken for transgression.

Fortunately, Mercy seemed pleased. She was far more gentle than Nefaron, but the Lord of Fear had instilled deep within her bones a simple principle: kindness was a lie.

A lie that others would use to trick her, to draw down her guard, to swallow her whole.

Eurydice's fingers twisted into the mouth of her sleeve, worrying the fabric between two pale fingers. So it was knowing when to kill that made a Lord. If Eurydice could rise that high, would she finally be free? Or would her chains just change shape?

Milla?

The second surprise of the day; Mercy knew this scrawny interloper. One who apparently had a penchant for healthy kidneys.

Eurydice grimaced as the minced organ hit the ground with a nauseating wet slap, spraying droplets of viscera over the hem of her robe.

Then, the creature squinted at her. Eurydice stiffened, instantly nervous. A habit? What?

"…P-Pardon?"

 

[Ives]

Night came and went. Quiet (relatively), uneventful, and lacking any occurence of the would-be robber's prophecy. The hours had come and gone, and no 'alarm bell' had ever rung. No bells of any kind. Ives' door was still locked. His windows still intact. No one had unscrewed the ventilation cover for a covert entry.

He'd spent an entirely ordinary night fighting anxious premonitions for nothing. Maybe the would-be robber was some kind of sicko who liked to play games with other people. Jackass.

Ives had woken up early, but he spent the morning as usual. Shower, clothes, toothbrush, more coffee than a doctor might advise, and he was off. He made a quick stop by one of the bank terminals to cash in his credit earnings. After the encounter on the train he'd headed straight home, too rattled to think clearly, so he'd taken all the cash with him. Bad idea, he could see that now, but he'd gotten the money safely deposited.

Once at the transit-line, he caught an earlier transport than he usually took to work, on account of the early morning. It was almost a full hour earlier than shift-start. There were barely any workers on-board. The transport stood almost entirely empty.

"Didn't sleep too well, eh daydreamer?" Ives knew that voice.

He spun around. A worker had sat down in the seat next to him. Dark green cloak, face hidden under a hood. The man—the would-be robber Ives realized—was lounging there right next to Ives, leaning back with his arms spread over the back-rests.

"Spooked you again, did I? Heh, you'll get used to it," the stranger gave a quiet chuckle.

"Who are you?" Ives mustered the will to speak. Whether it was their even-footing, or simply sleep-deprivation, it didn't much make a difference now.

"Let's not get hasty, we haven't even properly met yet," the stranger turned his head enough for Ives to get a peek at his face.

Except there was no face under that hood, just a mask. It was mostly hidden by shadow, but Ives could see the unmoving gold jaw of the stranger's mask as he talked.

"Why didn't you take the money?" Ives asked, voice shaky.

The stranger—Goldmask Ives decided—only gave a laugh in response that sputtered out into a series of coughs.

"We barely have any time to talk and that's what you ask, dreamer?" Goldmask asked.

Ives didn't quite know how to answer that. His jaw worked like he was about to speak, but no words snaked their way onto his tongue.

Goldmask simply waited. The moment stretched on. One second, two, three, four...

"Ah, well, that's all the time we have I guess. 'Til next time, ta-ta," Goldmask gave Ives a little wave.

A deep shadow momentarily darkened the passenger-compartment of the transport as they passed under a bridge. Goldmask, somehow, disappeared in an instant when Ives couldn't see him. One moment he sat there, the next he was gone.

Ives jumped from his seat He looked around the passenger compartment. No sign of Goldmask. Still the same passengers as before, but no green-cloak wearing stranger. Nothing, nowhere. He'd disappeared somehow. There werent any hiding places on board the transport shuttle, especially not when it was this empty. The exits stayed magnetically sealed during flight, and the emergency doors were wired with a ear-splitting alarm that went off when they were opened.

One of the passengers gave Ives a strange look.

Ives sat down again. He was breathing heavy. His head spun. Goldmask had disappeared into thin air. Had he been a hallucination? Had Ives suffered some kind of euphoric episode, same as the day before?

Ives' hand began to tremble as the anxious thoughts kept piling on. He reached for his pocket to dig out a cigarette, but stopped himself. 'No smoking inside the transit vehicle.'

Ives foot began to hammer the durasteel flooring as he started controlling his breath in an attempt to calm down. A full shift still waited for him at the end of the flight.

 

[Mercy]

Milla | Eurydice | Varin Mortifer | Lysander von Ascania

"A habit?" Mercy glanced towards Eurydice who almost looked like she'd grow sick from the casual way Milla was bandying about with that organ. She reached out and gently patted Eury's head.

Even a gentle gesture from a giant was enough to lightly press her down however.

In honesty Mercy hadn't really considered it a pattern before. That was because to consider it, one must first have enough pattern recognition to recognize when you were in one. It had started with Alcariel , back then Sael. Fatine, briefly. Eurydice. Milla. There had been others, too, and now Mercy's brows were furrowed in thought as she considered this closely.

Then she shook her head.

"No, it's not a habit, Milla. It is being in the right place, in the right time. You creatures need assistance and I offer it, that is all."

Which was quintessentially a habit.

"Mercy why didn't you bring me HERE? This is so much better than the place you dropped me off. Really, it was terrible there. All blue and shiny,"

"You told me you wanted a nice place! This is the opposite of it. Pelagon has beaches and oceans!" A groan there as she rolled her eyes, about to say more, but then Varin's voice filtered through.

<He’s a fighter though, might need to break some limbs.>

"Go ahead, lad. Break as many as you need, but make sure he can still talk."

She glanced towards Eurydice. "Why don't you help Milla here? She is a rather enterprising sort, I am sure you could learn a thing or two from her."

Without waiting for a response Mercy stepped past them.

She could practically feel Lysander von Ascania brooding in his darkness within the facility. Which was an annoying feeling, because usually Mercy couldn't feel anything besides her own breathing and the strain of her muscles. It probably meant they were growing closer as master-and-student, which she wasn't sure how to feel about.

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Anet Raine | Acier Moonbound | Darth Amaymon | Rae Cooke
​

" What proceeds further will be your measure. And for your sake I hope you preform adequately."

" Go on at your leisure."

Madelyn spared the Sith a quick glance, and nodded her head approvingly. He was staying, good. It would both add legitimacy to the process, and she could observe his behaviour too.

"Very good, Lord Amaymon." said Madelyn, dipping her head.

"I am not a spy!"

"We will see." said Madelyn. She bore no resemblance to the friendly woman who had greeted them. Her tone was authoritative, clipped. In fact, the only sign that Madelyn felt any emotion was the hand placed momentarily on Rae's knee, checking her mask was secured properly. An instant later, Madelyn's eyes were back on her subjects.

She tapped her nail on the table until they were both looking at her. Madelyn flipped a switch on another silvery object on the table. It began whirring and clicking softly.

"Pay attention. I am going to ask you a series of questions."

Tap tap tap. Click click click.

"You will provide short, honest answers. Two, perhaps three words."

Tap tap, click click.

"If you ramble, I will stop you. We will start all over again. Confirm verbally that you understand." Madelyn waited for them to speak, then nodded. For good measure, she turned the dial on the diffuser, sending a fresh wave of gas across the room. "Good. Your interview begins now."

INTERROGATION LOG
INT: Ms Madelyn Lowe
SUB: Ms Anet Raine, Mr Acier Moonbound
WIT: Ms Rae Cooke, Lord Amaymon

Questions:

1) "Let's start simply. What is your full name and where were you born?"

2) "Good. Please tell me the name of some of your closest friends and family."

3) "Why did you join the Covenant?"

4) "Stay focused. Do you know of any traitors in your midst? Who are they?"

5) "Short answers please, or I'll have to up the dose again. How would you fix the Covenant's information problem?"

6) "What do you think of the Triumvirate?"

7) "Have you ever leaked protected Covenant information?"

8) "Do you have any associations with enemies of the Sith?"

9) "Are you a spying on your fellow Sith?"

10) "Almost there, then we take a break. Who are you loyal to?"

11) "Tell me who you love most. Would you betray your fellow Sith for them?"

Madelyn switched off the recorder and the diffuser, and sat back, wiping a drop of sweat that had beaded on her brow. The sweet-smelling gas began to dissipate, leaving behind headaches and nausea for those who had breathed it deeply.

"Let's take a break."

 

[Anet Raine]

Madelyn Lowe Acier Moonbound Rae Cooke Darth Amaymon

Anet's attention darted between the blonde and the hulking Sith Lord. Their exchange was curious, and Lord Amaymon's skepticism... annoyance? Both? Was practically palpable, though the acolyte hadn't quite figured out what his problem was. Maybe it was just his nature as a Sith Lord. But there wasn't time for her to interrogate those thoughts when she herself was the subject of a far more thorough interrogation.

Her heart began to race in her chest as she watched Madelyn hit the diffuser again. With her mask on, the woman was downright uncanny and rather terrifying. Her tone only added to a sense of grim horror, heightened by the effects of the airborne drug. And because her heart raced, her breathing grew shallower and more rapid. With each inhalation, she allowed more and more of the truth serum to enter her bloodstream.

"I understand," she answered coldly.

Then... The questions began.

Anet felt herself float off into space, her body melting into the couch. From an outside perspective, she was simply experiencing a common reaction called 'couch lock.' Her muscles loosened, her joints stuck, and her attention melted along with any mental barriers and psychological fortitude.

1) "Let's start simply. What is your full name and where were you born?"

"Anet Teleios Raine. Belazura."

She was hit with a spike of adrenaline, driven by fear, as she didn't quite realize she had answered until the last syllable. To feel so... out of control... her mind someone else's plaything? That was a great source of fear for her.

2) "Good. Please tell me the name of some of your closest friends and family."

Her heart pounded even faster. She could feel it in her fingertips, hear it in her ears. And alongside it, something else. The Sith Lord's voice.

"You are weak pathetic things. To allow this woman speak down to you. Where is your anger? Where is your hate? Everything you need to survive this trial is already here."

Yes - it made her fucking angry. As did the question, because it made her think of Her and Him.

"My... Father.. Alabaster Raine." She seethed through gritted teeth. Hands balled into tight fists. She managed to avoid saying her mother's name, because honestly - "She can die heartless and alone!" Wait?! Did Anet say that aloud?! The half-pantoran wore that panic plainly.

When she considered her closest friends --

3) "Why did you join the Covenant?"

Thankfully, the next question came, and this one was easy. "To be a Sith."

4) "Stay focused. Do you know of any traitors in your midst? Who are they?"

"You lack nothing but the will to see it. Pain is inevitable. Accept its embrace. Do not flee from it. Let it carve you open and show you what you truly are."

Anet laughed. "Fuck... You!"

5) "Short answers please, or I'll have to up the dose again. How would you fix the Covenant's information problem?"

She lurched forward before falling right back. "I'd... Make them understand... There is only one path... Join us. Or die."

That answer surprised her. Anet hadn't considered that motivation to be so acute in her own psyche. But the moment the words left her lips, she realized the truth of them. It was her desire.

6) "What do you think of the Triumvirate?"

"Drink in the fear, the desperation, the envy. Yours and theirs. Feed from it. Shape it. Evolve."

"Rivals." She thought without saying.

To those sober few, Anet looked like a drooling hound as spittle ran down her chin, jaw so clenched it popped when it finally opened.

"I... Don't know them." A half-truth. She knew nothing of Mercy or Arris except by reputation, but she did know Vestra well enough.

7) "Have you ever leaked protected Covenant information?"

"No!"

8) "Do you have any associations with enemies of the Sith?"

That felt like a trick question, but still. "Sith are the enemies of Sith." Not absolutely, not alone, but it was a natural truth of being a Sith.

9) "Almost there, then we take a break. Who are you loyal to?"

"If you cannot do this...then you were never meant to be Sith."

She lurched forward again, fists landing on her thighs, and growled. "Me!" Anet managed to stay forward this time, albeit she swayed back and forth where she sat.

10) "Tell me who you love most. Would you betray your fellow Sith for them?"

This... was an unexpected question. She hadn't considered that in her defiance, she only made it more painful to consider. It would've been easier to have remained docile to the substance in her veins. Thoughts flooded her mind. The answer should have been "Myself." It was the answer she expected, but it wasn't the answer that tried to squirm its way off her tongue.

But for Anet... Love was an ugly thing that failed to fall into the usual definition. Romantic love? Sexual love? Familial, friendship? No - her idea of love, the only love rendered by her heart, was that of twisted devotion. She had all but resigned herself to the Sith. The identity of Anet Raine, all her passions and aspirations, was entirely bent to the Sith ideal. Ever since that moment in the Red Library... And who was it that gave her that conviction? Who was it who showed her the way?

Who was it who fucking betrayed her?

"Either way today you die."

"Let's take a break."

The words snapped her out of it. She was still too drugged to really know what was going on. The colors of the room had bled together like an inexperienced painter mixing their palette to form muck. And then -- Anet bent over and vomited onto her feet.

"You should have eaten."

Yeah...

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Obulette

Equipment:
Acolyte Robes | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

The gas smelled... sweet. Artificial. Wrong. It crept in around the edges of his breath, settling in his chest like wet cotton. His thoughts didn't fracture all at once, just... softened, the way the world did when you were exhausted enough that focus wasn't a passive thing. His limbs felt heavier against the couch, joints loosening, posture threatening to sink.

Ace slowed his breathing deliberately. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Shallow enough to stay controlled, steady enough not to draw attention. Panic would spike readings. Resistance would spike readings. Calm was camouflage.

Beside him, Anet was already coming apart. He didn't look at her directly, but he could hear it in her voice, the way answers slipped out of her before she realized she'd given them. Fear, anger, humiliation, all tangled together and bleeding into the open.

Then Amaymon's presence pressed into his skull. A brute force intrusion, heat and contempt and violence wrapped in words that weren't really words at all. Rage. Hate. Pain. Prove yourself. Be more. Break or be broken.

Ace felt it register... and stop. He didn't push back. He let the voice echo and pass, like shouting in a tunnel. Amaymon wanted them loud. Wanted them raw. Wanted this to become a trial of fury instead of control.

Ace refused him that. He carried enough rage and hate, but he knew when to utilize it and when to leash it.

Madelyn's voice cut cleanly through the haze. Short answers. Two, three words. Ace focused on the rhythm. Question. Breath. Answer.

"What is your full name and where were you born?"

"Acier Moonbound. Dathomir."

This one was easy.

"Please tell me the name of some of your closest friends and family."

He paused. Natural, unforced.

"Aether Verd. Brother. Tic. Best friend."

Each name landed with weight, but not disorder. He didn't reach for anything else, even though there was more - like Fatine, Sibylla, Lorn. But... he was warned not to ramble. He'd claim that advantage.

"Why did you join the Covenant?"

"To destroy my enemies."

There was heat in that one. Amaymon would've been happy with that at least..

"Do you know of any traitors in your midst? Who are they?"

Ace exhaled slowly. The gas beginning to gradually melt down the barriers in his mind.

"I... wouldn't know. I keep my head... down."

He was a traitor, but Ace simply internalized that he, personally, didn't know other traitors. Saving himself from confession.

How would you fix the Covenant's information problem?"

"I wouldn't... I don't care."

He didn't care about the Covenant as an institution, or any institution really. He wasn't invested in its longevity, efficiency, or purity. So there was no internal contradiction here, no cognitive resistance, no stress spike.

"What do you think of the Triumvirate?"

"Powerful. Dangerous."

It was genuine assessment. Even if he wasn't actively working against them, he'd have still called them dangerous. Because those were simply the facts.

"Have you ever leaked protected Covenant information?"

Ace went silent again, feeling the effects of the gas even more now. He had leaked protected Covenant information to his outside contacts, but he'd never been notified of what was protected or what was okay to reveal to others. Luckily, Ace had an out with this one.

"Probably unintentionally..." He answered.

"Do you have any associations with enemies of the Sith?"

"No."

Ace didn't consider Sibylla and Lorn as "enemies of the Sith". Simply because, the Empire had focused all their efforts on eradicating what remained of the Empire. Why would a simple politician and a single Jedi Knight be active enemies of the Covenant?

"Are you a spying on your fellow Sith?"

"No."

Another mental loophole. Ace didn't consider himself Sith, so how could he be spying on "fellow" Sith? He was spying on the Covenant. The distinction mattered to him greatly.

Who are you loyal to?"

"The people I love."

"Tell me who you love most. Would you betray your fellow Sith for them?"

"My brother... I'd burn the galaxy for him."

That, at least, was undeniable.

The questions ended. The room swam slightly as the diffuser cut off, pressure lifting just enough for the headache to bloom in earnest. Ace stayed where he was, breathing steady, and lightly rubbing at his temples as a rough groan left his lips. He heard Anet vomit somewhere beside him.

Madelyn Lowe | Anet Raine | Darth Amaymon | Rae Cooke​

 

[Milla]

Objective 3: Mercy Lysander von Ascania Varin Mortifer Eurydice

"I don't need assistance," she grumbled, but didn't object to the 'creature' part of the statement, if it had even registered at all in her mind.

"Beaches and oceans?" Throwing her hands into the air, streaked with the deep red of blood not meant to be on the surface, starting to get tacky. "It was too bright! Everything hurt my eyes! How is that nice? CROWDED. People in uniforms telling me to stop loitering. What even IS loitering? Terrible."

She made a disgusted, disgusting noise at the back of her mouth, near the top of her throat, in a way that made it everyone's problem who was near her.

Milla eyed Eurydice as Mercy stepped past them both. Milla had never HAD help before. She'd only ever BEEN the help! But perhaps because of that, the ideal sort of appealed, didn't it?

"Come on, you can carry the sampling bags."

Not considering for a moment that the other woman might have other plans.