Activation Protocol

[Alkor Centaris]

Location: Knights Obsidian Headquarters, Ryloth
Objective: Processing

Continued from To become a Knight.

The line of applicants was lengthier than he expected as Alkor descended. When he left [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"], he did not know what to expect other than the short list of orders he had been given. He watched as several younger men and women who were visibly eager approached the terminal and extended their hands. Aptitude testing, he noted as a pinprick of blood was drawn from each candidate and taken for labwork.

They continued with vision and reflex tests, standard for anyone entering armed service, and nothing looked a far cry from normal. At face value, at least. There were other, more subtle things at work he was certain that he couldn't see. "It is entry level, I suppose," he murmured as the path beneath him shimmered with silvery glyphs.

"Alkor Centaris," a servitor appeared seemingly from nowhere as he entered the main thoroughfare and gestured for him to follow. "Your previous experience is known to us, so your aptitude will be gauged on a slightly different metric from the others. This way, if you please?"

He gave the expressionless fixture the once over, then followed. "Records of your service span several organizations and much of your work was difficult to obtain from behind black tape," the machine stated, "but we are not here to question your loyalties, simply to assure you are capable of service and committed to the Oaths you will take."

The Servitor scanned him briefly and took a sample from one of his fingertips. Alkor did not flinch. "As a Knight, you will be expected to function as a member of the Confederate Defense Force. You will be expected to perform at or above expectations in all things, and your performance will be subject to evaluation. Are you amenable to this?"

"I am." He raised both arms as the Servitor took his measurements and tested his body mass index.

"You will be expected to maintain and courier valuable data and at times be entrusted with vital secrets. Do you understand this?" The Servitor blinked red twice as it took note of his wounds. It seemed to be logging them more than worrying.

"I do," he replied.

"It is our understanding," the machine circled around in front of him and its faceless gaze matched his own, "that your duties up to this point have been largely wetworks, subterfuge, assassination, and active combat. Can you verify this information?"

He hesitated for a moment, sighed, then nodded. "That is correct."

"Very good," the Servitor circled away. "Your pre-screening is concluded, so I will move you forward to processing. You will be issued your armor and given your flight test thereafter."

"Thank you," Alkor managed to say unenthusiastically. He stepped out of the small room where he was questioned. The hub beyond was massive. Different elevators led to other levels of the Headquarters, and at the center, a terminal was available to access the Obsidian Intelligence Network.

He noticed a small group of unarmored people amassing to one side and decided that was probably where he needed to be. A younger Felacatian turned to offer him a smile. "Just getting initiated?" he asked.

"That's the plan," he replied with a smirk. "Sounds like I'm in the right place."

[member="Xobos Yakieer"]

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

​

Location: Knight Processing Facility
Objective: Get through the tedious tasks
Mental state: Conversational
Tag: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

​

“It feels like everyone is judging us, master..” Ora’s whine filled her head as the Miraluka stepped forward to the front of the processing line, giving the young officer a small smile as she mentally rolled her eyes. Mumbling lightly to herself, “Well, it is a processing and testing facility Ora…” just loud enough the officer heard her. She gave him a nervous smile, waving it off before standing at attention to be measured.

He gave her one last look, a look she had seen far too often, knowing he probably regarded her as just another crazy Miraluka, before turning his attention back to the datapad. Xobos frowned lightly to herself, before letting the measurements be taken. A droid began to circle her, taking the measurements from the length of her arms, legs, bicept size, and everything else they could think of measuring. She, like Ora, didn’t exactly like all of this, but she knew it was probably necessary to what was to come.

“Your finger, please ma’am.” The robotic voice broke through Xobos’s train of thought and startled her lightly, the droid now hovering in front of her. Giving a nervous smile to the droid and the office, she held out her right hand, keeping the left one pressed closely to her side, hiding the mark on her forearm. Her master had seemed to want her to keep it less known that the mark existed to everyone, as if it was some sort of secret mark. For now though, she did as he had asked of her, keeping it pressed tightly to herself.

A pin prick on her index finger was all the droid needed, the blood quickly taken as a sample. The robotic voice once again cut through the silence, droning a quick, “Evaluation complete. Please move forward,” before the glass door in front of her slid open. Xobos gave a quick nod of thanks to the officer before hurrying through, not wanting to hold up the line.

The initiates seemed to be gathering near the end of the corridor in a large group, which Xobos assumed was where she needed to be. Ambrus’s deep voice rumbled it’s way to the front of her mind while she approached the group, making sure she heard every word of what he had to say. “Everyone in that group exudes a lot of power…you surely don’t match up with them, do you master?” The Miraluka couldn’t help but frown at this statement, realizing that he was honestly right. Everyone did seem extremely more powerful than her, even she could realize that.

But now was not the time to let those doubts begin to fill her mind. It was all to early to let that happen. She had to stay strong, mentally and physically for the journey ahead. She couldn’t return to Adron a failure. That would only serve to make his decision to let her join up with the Knights an even worse decision and a waste of time. For all she knew, he might dump her back on Roon if this failed.

As she joined up with the group Xobos held her head high, even if she didn’t know a single person in the group. She made her way to the front, wanting to be first for whatever stage was next. While she had never participated in anything like this, to approach it with fear or apprehension wouldn’t be right at all. She was an apprentice, an aspiring dark lord after all. She drew on fear, not let it control her.

​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Readings appeared on the screens ahead of them depicting Midichlorian counts and aptitude scores for the Initiates. Alkor hardly bothered to look up as the others crowded around to compare results, so eager to make an impression. It was like being a novice all over again, greedy to stand out. Excitement permeated the facility, and it caused his expression to harden. The young were always so ready for conflict until they finally learned what it really was.

When they did, would they be ready to face reality?

"Centaris," one of the proctoring Knights called his name. "Your armor is ready, and your flight test will commence roughly one hour from now. Please step forward to receive your kit."

He took a step forward and stopped. The others were looking at him- he had not been first in line, but he was the first one called forward. It irked him that he had explicitly asked for no special treatment, but this felt like heavier consideration. Perhaps they were watching him more closely. Perhaps it was an issue of trust.

"Of course," he finally murmured as he went the next few paces and arrived at the curtain. Behind it, the skin he would wear above his own henceforth waited. It felt less like destiny and more like acceptance. He had taken on a duty, and soon, he would swear an Oath. Nothing in his life had ever seemed so final.

After several moments, he emerged from behind cover wearing his new armor.

He glanced around at the others for a moment, then over to the senior Knight. "Is there somewhere I should go to wait for the flight test, or am I free to wander the facilities until that time?"

"Be prompt," the Knight urged, "but you have leave until your appointed time."

[member="Xobos Yakieer"]

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

​

Location: Knight Processing Facility
Objective: Get through the tedious tasks
Mental state: Conversational
Tags: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

​

Xobos wasn’t one to judge. She was honestly in an very privileged position to even be here, especially since from what had occurred during her time with her colony, and how she spent her time on Roon. There was honestly no reason at all that she should even be here, with a double bladed lightsaber strapped to her hips, preparing to receive her armor, anything. Yet hearing a name called before hers to get their armor..then another…then another…until she was finally standing alone. Looks were thrown her way from other groups of acolytes, seeing her standing alone.

Frowning, Ambrus took the opportunity to speak in her mind, his words cutting deeply. “Well, maybe they forgot about you. Probably for the best. You we’re never worth that man’s attention anyway..” The woman growled lightly at his words, before proceeding over to the quartermaster, glaring at him from behind the counter. “Is there a reason my name hasn’t been called yet?”

The taller man glared down at her for a moment before checking his datapad and sighing, motioning toward the changing area. “Your armor will be handed to you through the slot. Change into it quickly then hurry to meet the others. They will probably be starting the flight exercises soon.” He motioned her along, murmuring something along the lines of her not listening.

The Miraluka scowled at him before quickly walking to the changing area. It took a few moments, but the armor was handed to her eventually. It…breathtaking. [member="Adron Malvern"] had set her up nicely, and the armor matched his esteemed and clean feel.

She walked out of the changing room soon after, fixing the last bit of the cloak to the top of her shoulder, as well as holding the faceless mask underneath one arm. Now was the time to try and catch up with everyone else…who had all disappeared. Xobos had no idea how to navigate this place, or find where this flight test may be.

The Miraluka frowned lightly to herself, before starting in the same direction she had seemed the last of the acolytes go. Passing by several masters, groups of young force users, and everything in between gave her a small grasp on just how large these knight obsidian had become. She was just a tiny piece of it. And walking along the vast hallways truly put that in perspective.

It didn’t take long for her to realize that she was hopelessly lost. She found herself in some sort of courtyard at this point, sighing and looking around aimlessly. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be late to the flight test, if she even found it. It was at this point she saw a taller, long haired acolyte that she remembered being the first called to receive his armor. Swallowing her pride, Xobos approached him, still carrying the faceless mask under one arm. “You…wouldn’t happen to know where we need to be going next, would you?”

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor seized the opportunity to break from the larger group. Being surrounded by others, especially the young, excited, impressionable recruits eager to serve was far from his ideal aesthetic. He quietly moved along the walls of the compound, glancing into various cloisters and alcoves that were dark, yet illuminated by glyphs and constant streams of data. The Knights Obsidian were foremost intended to serve as Confederate Security, and this more than anything reminded him of the importance and value of information and technology to that role.

Perhaps it was to be extremely different from anything he had ever done. He wondered if it would ever call him to action, or if he had resigned himself to a more peaceful role. Had Alkor Centaris, a man bred and built for warfare, transitioned into a peacetime dissident? It seemed absurd, but there was also the possibility that life might be different on this side of the stars.

It was a possibility that shook him, no matter how steadfast he was.

War was the constant in this Galaxy. If the need for warriors was gone, where would the warriors go? It was a question he sought an answer to, and he hoped that the troves of information and knowledge of the Knights Obsidian were the key to that.

He broke from his introspection when a timid voice called out to him. Alkor recognized her as another of the recruits, but he never heard her name called. Perhaps he hadn't been paying attention. It wasn't part of the assignment, after all. You... wouldn't happen to know where we need to be going next, would you?

He turned to glance at her and recognized instantly that she couldn't see him in the traditional sense. If she had eyes, he felt they weren't fixed on him, but more, he could sense that she did perceive him. It explained why she faced him, why her voice was directed toward him. A Miraluka? He had never met one personally.

Interesting.

"Of course," he turned to face her, folding his arms. "The upper level from here, bay six. They're priming for flight tests now, so keep yourself busy for an hour. They won't let you in before the designated time anyway."

The time it took to repurpose a hangar for flight testing was negligible, he knew from experience, but the Knights would want to take extra precautions. Ensuring only authorized personnel was only the tip of the iceberg.

Absently, he wondered if he would be able to find a drink before the specified time. New people, new place- his anxiety ran high, and when coupled with his innate empathic senses, tuning things out required liquid intervention. Even if safety protocols frowned on it.

[member="Xobos Yakieer"]

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Knight Processing Facility
Objective: Get through the tedious tasks
Wearing: Handmade Armor (save for helmet)
Mental state: Conversational
Tags: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

​

The man looked down at her with a confused, then a realized expression that lead her to believe he had never met nor seen anyone like her before. It might have thrown him off even more to see her not wearing some sort of decorated mask to cover her cloudy and useless eyes. It certainly worried, even scared some that weren’t ready for something like that. It wasn’t exactly normal to see a blind person walking around so easily without some sort of cane or seeing apparatus.

His response gave her what she was looking for, to which she gave a quick and soft nod. Her words that followed were in the same vein, “Thank you, I hope you do well during this…test.” With that, the woman turned on her new boot heel to head toward the nearest elevator to the upper level. She knew exactly how she was going to kill time, and that could be done close to the bay area. At least when they allowed them in, Xobos would be one of the first inside. Perhaps they would know who she was then, unlike that idiot armory guy.

Her boots licked against the durosteel, but not loud enough to drown out the voice that seemed to drown out all the conversations around her. “Well, it’s not like you’ve done anything noteworthy at all, little master..besides, mistakes happen. Though in this situation, was it really a mistake?” Xobos couldn’t help but frown at the words that, while probably true, stung the Miraluka to the core. Ora wasn’t usually so blunt, as that was mostly Ambrus’s area. Interesting..and disheartening.

Trying to shake the words from her head was hard enough, which she attempted to do while climbing in the elevator, pressing the appropriate button to head toward the bay floor. Ambrus just decided to make it even worse. “You want to know the even tiny noteworthy things you’ve done master? Well, you managed to survive on barren rock of a planet after being outcast by your people, after killing half your village…that noteworthy enough? Perhaps we should turn around and go tell the man. He’d surely give you your armor on time then…”

Xobos’s head swam with the voices words, especially as it droned on and on, making her feel dizzy enough to half to brace herself against the side of the elevator. Thankfully, it was only a short ride up, and the Miraluka quickly sought out what she had come up here for. To her right, the bay could be seen getting ready for the flight tests, thought that wasn’t her objective. It took a few moments, but the objective she had been looking for could be seen. A tall stack of durosteel crates pushed to the side, out of the way of people walking.

Making her way quickly to the stack, even as ambrus continued to speak, she leapt onto the tallest stack, quickly sinking down to her knees. Xobos placed the helmet to her right, then proceeded to fold her hand in her lap, closing her eyes. For a moment, the voices only came louder with the lack of sight, but soon, the Miraluka was forcing herself into the deep breathing exercises that her elders had taught her as a young child. It didn’t take long for her mind to clear into a dark abyss, with no outside distractions disturbing her calm.