Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Aftermath

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Location: Ryloth [Residence of Darth Metus - Sinner's Well]

The fortress that had been built in the dustbowl wastes of Ryloth was well hidden and could rarely be found unless one had the exact coordinates. Whether it was some sort of Sith Sorcery, technology, or a trick of the naked eye was still up for debate. It was for this reason that anyone approaching the area would need clearance codes and an invitation before breaching its perimeter, unless, that is, they wished to be summarily shot down. Normally, the area seemed quite peaceful, with only the occasional coming and going of land speeders and a few ships.

The buildings themselves were tall, ornate, and the topmost spire seemed to linger in the clouds. The atmosphere was thin, but breathable, and the climate seemed mostly temperate. At least, for this time of year, it was temperate. There were occasions when the seasons could be considered exceedingly turbulent with high winds and abnormal bursts of heat—but the planet seemed to know that offworlders were on the way. Any that were summoned would have been given the chance to heal and rest appropriately. The Confederacy was strict, in a sense, but for the most part it was not unnecessarily cruel. Their destination was located in the area that was just barely still considered habitable near the equator without being too hot or too cold. The bright sun heating the ground caused the air to wave, almost like a mirage, and a lone protocol droid bustled around the stronghold with a great sense of urgency.

“Oh dear oh dear oh dear.”, the droid muttered to itself, maneuvering through the fortress as fast as its stunted bipod gait could handle. Arms in the air it paused only for a moment, before the doors to the command center whooshed open, and gave the frantic automaton access. “The Vicelord will not be pleased.”

“He will be even less pleased.”, the robotic vocabulator corrected itself, noting that should the Sith Lord’s guests crash into the shielding, there would be hell to pay. If the Master of the house had to leave the medical ward the droid could only anticipate being broken down into little more than spare parts and rendered into a toaster. He had one job. One purpose. This was it. Pressing the right sequence on the holo-panel the droid opened a line of communication between Sinner’s Well and their incoming guests. “Welcome to the Well. Please leave any contraband, weaponry, and or explosives behind on your vessels. Should you arrive armed you may be executed.”

The droid paused, before polite programming kicked in.

“Thank you.”

The protocol droid then brought down the energy shields long enough to allow any ships or vehicles passage. It also disengaged a series of J-1 semi-autonomous proton cannon’s that were placed strategically in the area outside of the protective bubble. They were expecting more than one visitor and as such, this droid would remain at the ready, just in case their sensors were tripped.

At the front gate, which would be easily visible to any guests, were a small gaggle of attendant droids that waited patiently. They stayed away from the B3 Ultra Battle Droid Units that were positioned at calculated intervals around the property. They were testy, bored from a lack of action, and nothing to kill. A pity. They had strict orders to confirm the identity of any arrivals before they were instructed to take their honored visitors to see the Vicelord of the Confederacy. Once everything checked out, they would be escorted inside, and led through a veritable labyrinth. A trained eye would note that there were defenses everywhere. Some were more hidden, while others, came in the painfully obvious form of murderous looking MagnaGuards at every corner of every hallway.

Once guests arrived in the medical bay they would first pass through a sterilization chamber and then find themselves escorted to an oversized blindingly white room. It was the size of an elegant dining hall, but instead of being filled with tables and food, it was filled with multiple Bacta Tanks. There were two figures in the room, a Sith Lord staring darkly at the middle tank, and the hunched over form of a Jedi seated in one of several chairs that had obviously been brought in.

The attendant droids would remain by the door after announcing their cargo. Mostly, because they didn’t want to be reduced to a dark and charred mark like the one on the wall beside them. Only [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] seemed to be able to come and go without sulfuric eyes promising suffering to those that interrupted his vigil.

[SIZE=11pt]“We beg your pardon, Darth Metus. You have guests.”[/SIZE]
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Tags: [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] [member="Aryn Teth"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Zesiro"]
 
​Sinner's Well
______________________
​Shuttle bound, haze

​The scoring was still fresh, the pain still very much present as the almost withdrawal like effects of the magnetic fields protection continued to wear down an already hazy mind, troubled with thought. Still, the Giant came with no quarrel evident in his mind. His body rested, weighing against the side of the shuttle as his undamaged arm propped him upward. It had been some time since he had last been able to take any from of medical steps to compensate for his heart. It's sickly beat was quite present as the young Lady Talon had stolen his daily dosage for stabilisation.

​His form was a little weaker, the bandaged area of his pectoral was ghastly; the Ceramic plate had melted away into his flesh. Still, his personal field medics had did what best they could and bandaged him rather elegantly, applying a Bacta foam under the silk soft bandaging that weaved under the edges of the plates of armour. Red scarlet eyes observed how The Sinner's Well became visible only when it was apparently deemed willing by those who were its master. A hidden retreat, not particularly surprising that this would be such a site that the Lady Talon he'd come to know would return to in an event such as this.

​He had seen greater wounds survived by weaker beings, she would survive no doubt. As they arrived, they were ordered to be free of any weaponry, not a call easily answered by the War-Chieftain. However he recalled their rather harmless approach when diplomatic talks began on Nibelungen. He would return the favour in this dour hour. Oribuir, his rifles and Khopesh were all left behind. However the walking travesty did not require any of which to cause havoc if necessary. Yet he doubted any enemy would venture here into the heart of Confederate territory.

​The Matador followed the protocol droids, having seemingly been the first to arrive; the sterilisation chamber was an irritant but a likely required one. Ahead of that was a large medical room, only a little smaller than his own personal Bacta chamber on Edemar but quite different stylistically. His heart trod a few steps faster as he saw [member="Srina Talon"]'s meek visage ahead, sat adjacent to her was both her Master; [member="Darth Metus"] and [member="Aryn Teth"] sat in what appeared to be a cloud of morose rage.

​He recalled how the latter had came upon him as he attended to Lady Talon, filled with rage and no doubt guilt and confusion. He held no ill-will towards a being that did entirely as expected. Humans were emotional, and often times foolish creatures. The Matador had allowed Aryn to take Srina, otherwise she might have had been torn in two if his iron grip had not been relinquished in its own time. The other, held some ire at the hands of the crimson eyed Giant.

​Clearly the Echani wasn't prepared for what had happened, what she had endured, and that fault no doubt fell upon her idle Master. Though, these thoughts were but a shadow locked in the prism of a metallic and unreadable face. The chrome and blacks of his armour shimmered in the white as massive metal feet thudded like war drums as they carried the massive being a few steps behind both Teth and Metus. Scarlet glowing eyes observing the tank that held place amidst the rest.

​You will Drown, Srina.

His words from the coronation rolled in the back of his head as he observed the condition of his ally. Kind words of fortune, Khaemt had smiled upon her. Perhaps the Ankhyptiangs gods were real after all. The wound didn't look so bad now without the blood running down from her head, the Matador eased for a moment; red eyes flickering to the Confederate leader before back to Srina, feeling the tension pressing from his like a knot pulled far too taught. His infrared eyes observing her heart, how some warmth had returned to her form.

"She'll live."

​His tone was a gesture of concern but was an embellishment to be sure, he did believe she would survive but his words were more for those in their immediate vicinity than himself. Of course she would survive, she had to.

[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] | [member="Anya Malvern"] | [member="Zesiro"]​
 
Sinner's Well.

It was a name that she had never given much thought to in all her months with the Confederacy. The reason was perhaps the fact that, despite being a member of the prestigious group, the young woman had never felt like she was a direct and indoctrinated member of the Dark Acolytes of the Vicelord, Darth Metus. So it went without saying that even approaching the monolithic style structure went against a modicum of safety conditions she'd set for herself.

Even still, peering out the cockpit of the "Vekarr's Pride", the agent held her composure in the face of the proverbial monstrosity. She wouldn't say she was readily pleased with being anywhere near the Vicelord so soon after the events that had brought her there, only the loyalty she stipulated upon herself to Srina Talon keeping her at the helm of her determination as June brought the freighter to rest at her typical landing pad. With a lean and a gentle brush of her lips against the curve of June's jaw the woman twisted out of the co-pilots chair.

"I hate this place," she breathed as she stood straight and lingered a hand at the back of her lover's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she felt her mind zero in on the chill that always ran down her spine when she focused on the locale. "Stay here and keep an eye on the ship, I'll be back as soon as I find out just how bad- complicated the situation is."

"Are you karking, kidding me?" The seated woman's voice piped up almost an instant after the agent had finished speaking; a gesture that had the agent twisting in her spot to look down at her with a quizzical expression on her face. She was met by the stern, and relatively aggravated expression on her lover's face. "You're delusional if you think I'm letting you go in there acting like this. Force be damned, you're not playing the thick skull card here."

Pursed lips, a furrowed brow and a sharp inhale met the outburst. Closing her eyes and letting her hand slid down from the back of the pilot's chair, the half epicanthix took a pair of evenly timed breaths before blinking her eyes open to meet the other woman's gaze; her eyes betraying a modicum of emotion before she made an attempt to turn away. It was never outside the realm of obvious that she was hard pressed to feel.

"We've had this fight before," she mused as she closed her eyes again and tilted her head towards the ground, her arms falling limp to her sides as the memory flooded back into the forefront of her mind. Crystalline images of June's anger contorted face accompanying colored words about the Vicelord and his countenance. "This is the last situation I'd want you to meet him in, especially in a place like this."

Her voice cracked, her posture quaked and June was against her, arms encircling under her own in a stubborn embrace. The agent clenched her teeth, clenched her fists and drew another sharp breath but in the end allowed herself to reciprocate the affectionate gesture. Resting her chin against the Corellian's shoulder, the agent quietly shook with the fear she was feeling beneath her bravado; only pursing her lips to speak after she'd had a minute to collect herself.

"The longer we stand here, with you protecting me, the longer you have to wait to do what you came to do," the Corellian woman breathed into the agent's chest before pulling away and angling herself to place a light kiss on the woman's lips. "I want to meet this Metus and I want to see this woman you're so dedicated to, it's only fair.

Besides, you could use the air." She couldn't be sure if it was the words, the kiss or the devotion, or if it was the combination of all of them, but the moment June's words trailed off the woman met the other's gaze with a sparking confidence. Without another word she took June's hand in hers, grabbed her verpine, June's DL-44 and made for the hall to the docking ramp.

"You win this time, gorgeous," she breathed, squeezing her lover's hand, and stopped short of the ramp. "Let's find us a Vicelord."

That said, words beyond her for the next indefinite period, the agent made for the massive structure and for where she could only guess any others would be. If they crossed the Vicelord or any of his allies, they would cross that bridge when it came.

This wasn't about him.

[member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] | [member="Aryn Teth"] | [member="The Matador"] | [member="Anya Malvern"] | [member="Zesiro"]
 
He couldn't save her.

Amidst the Chaos of battle, the Sith had made a decision. [member="Srina Talon"] had repeatedly proven herself mighty in his eyes, and so he departed from her side. He bridged the gap between their minds, blurring the line between the Echani and the Mandalorian. But this Meld was not a substitute for his physical presence. This tactic was not enough to protect her from all harm. And while the possibility of injury on the field of battle was high, Darth Metus had made a promise to the alabaster warrior. He promised to guide her. He promised to shield her. And in these, he had failed. When the blows were struck and his Srina fell, it was not his hands that liberated her from the doors of death.

He was above, reeling from the agony which flowed through their Meld. He was overwhelmed on the walls, saved himself only by those of his Clan who had ascended with him. But by the time he had pried himself away from the Imperial jaws, Srina had already been saved. The Jedi and The Calamity had seen fit to fill the void which belonged to him.

And that would never happen again.

Since the instant of her medivac to Ryloth, the Vicelord tarried at her side. The refuge that he had built - Sinner's Well - had been temporarily opened. For once, his own pride did not matter. For once, he had no problem reaching out across the stars for help. While they had bacta and a full-fledged medical wing, Darth Metus was not satisfied. He wanted the best that the Galaxy could offer for his Apprentice. He wanted her healed. He wanted her whole. He wanted all of her pain to go away. And so he began to send messages to old friends and new, seeking any with the ability to heal. In particular, the Grandmaster [member="Valae Kitra"] herself would have received a personal message pleading her immediate assistance.

And once the messages were sent, Darth Metus stood where he belonged. His hand rested upon the glass of the tank. His eyes never wavered from the suspended form of his Apprentice. At times, her eyelids would flutter and he could feel her nudge through their Bond. She didn't blame him. She didn't want him to blame himself. But all he could do was apologize and plead her forgiveness. For her, he was gentle. Quiet. Patient. But for all else inside the Sinner's Well, Darth Metus was a Typhoon. With very few exceptions, the Sith demanded that they be left alone. He cared not for decorum or the demands of office this day - stating that he should be interrupted when those he requested had arrived.

Previously a droid made the mistake of offering him a meal. What remained of its body now laid littered across the floor.

He did, however, accept a ration bar from his niece [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] when she came to make her rounds. And he did accept a swig the canteen offered by [member="Aryn Teth"]. Thus far, those two were the only ones who could come and go as the pleased - though the latter was just as rooted to the spot as he.

We beg your pardon...

Turning his head, the Sith's glare bore down upon the Droid. "Who?"

"IFF states Ancient Eye and one of your own Acolytes."

"Hmph."

The huff was as much affirmation as the droid would receive, and shortly thereafter [member="The Matador"] entered the room. Having fought on the same battlefield with the Calamity twice, it went without saying that the man had Darth Metus' respect. And now, having seen his role in liberating Srina through their Meld, he felt gratitude. "Thank you." he said, regarding the Calamity with a low bow of his head.

And with that, he returned his attention to where it belonged.

[member="Srina Talon"], [member="The Matador"], [member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], [member="Valae Kitra"], [member="Zesiro"], [member="Anya Malvern"]
 
In the corner of the center room, small portions of different Dathomirian herbs lay, more than half of them already used and mostly on Srina. Nona had taught her healing through natural means when Katrine was just a little girl and she had thought at the time it was the only way possible. It would be years before she would learn to heal with the Force. Though still weak in her ability, it was more useful in helping to heal others than it was healing the beautiful Echani apprentice. Hers was a unique case, so unique and powerful that Katrine did what she hadn't done in years - she reached out to the elders of her clan, and her Nona most of all.

The Witches had discussed and discussed while Katrine continued to use the Force and the healing herbs to deliver very little progress. She could feel the poison traveling through Srina's veins, she could feel both of her applications and the bacta making an effort. The immediate response of the ally from the tall ally from the Ancient Eye had ensured the poison didn't completely consume her completely but it hadn't been enough to save her. All the while, the spirits kept whispering into her ear, ranting and chanting as if the answer was right within her grasp.

When she couldn't think or concentrate anymore, Katrine shut down to communicate with the three, to hear them clearer but for some reason, their murmurs weren't just their own. It was like there were endless voices through to break through, calling her, demanding her attention. The young Witch couldn't find the way. Then Nona had returned her call at last and she has whispered: Nightsisters have a magic we don't condone, the Hawk elder had told her, though it's only rumors. Satara had proceeded to remind her of the stories of the source of Witch magic, describing tales documented in the Book of Dathomir, the unified book of the clans formed two decades ago. The information seemed vague, the Book of Shadows seemingly holding back on the truth. However, it had been enough clue for her to lead her in the right direction. The newly found direction had come as a jolt to the Lupine, reminding her she wasn't here alone, noticing even her Uncle when she entered again. He looked horrible, enough that she'd forced some food into his hands without giving him a chance to deny her. He was family, even if they didn't share blood and she doubted his apprentice would like it very much to find him so when she woke. She didn't tell him that then, he seemed too distracted to listen.

Instead, she had gathered her coat and left the Sinner's Well, making use of speeder to make way into the Nightlands. There, hidden inside the Academy was what she'd come to believe was what could help them. The ichor. That was the only Nightsister magic her Nona would dare speak. Though she was different than many of the stubborn Witches in the clan, she still wouldn't condone the use of something she believed was dark magic. Katrine knew better now. No magic was evil, just as the herbs they used to heal were used to poison by the Nightsisters. Application made it light or dark, same as the Force. Once inside the Academy, she had dealt with some remaining Sith Spawns before the spirits had boomed into her head loud.

Take! Drink! Try! Save!

They were almost singing as she approached them holding a container in one hand. Though she had stepped into the ichor and it hadn't harmed her, in fact, it had given her a gift she couldn't imagine possible and she could still feel them humming to her sometimes, grateful they had banished their jailor. Yet, not even Katrine could fully grasp what ichor could be used for when her lessons. Yet, with the container in hand, she began to chant, pleading for help as her lips quietly moved. A life had to be saved, a soul needed to be recovered. One worthy of their help required it. With the will and plea, her free hand reached out towards the ichor, pulling it towards the contained, extracting a small portion the mist into the container before she closed it. Her eyes closed as she concentrated again. "Grazie," she muttered before she'd departed.

At present time...​

By the time Katrine returned to the Sinner's Well, she noted the arrival of Vekarr's Pride as well as another ship she didn't recognize, making her way with her container which, despite its contents, felt far lighter on the physical place yet somehow heavy to carry even with it. Katrine didn't question the ideas she moved in. The security only glanced at her while her sapphire gaze found [member="Katria Vekarr"] waving to her before she moved forward into the room, finding [member="Darth Metus"] practically where she had left hi with [member="The Matador"] in the room as well.

"We've exhausted all options familiar to me," she talked as she moved towards the back of the room, glancing towards the tank as she moved, feeling almost no change in her absence. The bacta was far too slow to give a full recovery. "Both Witches and the dead agree about this," she continued, focusing her attention on the contents of the box rather than the company in the room. If the spirits were right, this wouldn't only help Srina, it could speed up the recovery of Anya and Zesiro as well.

[member="Aryn Teth"] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member=Zesiro] [member="Scherezade deWinter"]
 
The call had come, and Valae had answered.

She would go to Ryloth not only as an ally, but as a friend to [member="Darth Metus"] and [member="Srina Talon"]. The two had made their presence felt in friendship at Silver Rest several times, and this would be a first for Valae to visit them in CIS space. However, she only wished that the situation had not been so grave…

The Grandmaster had been shocked to learn that the Vicelord’s apprentice had suffered very serious, possibly life-threatening injuries during battle on Tatooine. She could only imagine what Metus felt at this moment. Valae knew very well what it was like to worry about an apprentice, but to face the possibility of such a bond being severed… she shuddered to think.

These were thoughts she struggled to push away as she sat aboard the Stardust Melody.

Valae had asked [member="Cassius Droma"] to accompany her today; he’d readily accepted her request to use his ship to travel to this place called Sinner’s Well. But that was not her only reason for bringing the young man along. She happened to know that Cassius was close friends with Srina; it made sense to her that he should be there. Her chestnut eyes flickered over to him in the pilot’s seat; she wasn’t quite sure what to say. What could she say to ease his mind?

After all, she had yet to see the Echani for herself and assess her condition.

However, based on the message she’d received… things were grim. Clutching the healing amulet that had been given to her by Metus himself, Valae closed her eyes for a moment and leaned her head back. For the briefest time, she imagined a galaxy in peace – one that was not troubled by this galactic war. It was just a dream, but it reminded her that there was always hope.

“We’ll be there soon, won’t we?” She asked, breaking the silence. “I should let Metus know.”

Before she turned away to send a message to the Vicelord, she offered Cassius a weak smile.

“I’m sure things will be fine.” She said, nodding as if to reaffirm this for herself as well.
 
Anya had taken a while to recover from the severity of her injuries, much longer the broken leg Zesrio had. The two sisters, once they had recovered enough were summoned to be at Sinner's Well. What sort of welcome they would get, she had no idea on and was nervous.

Both of their past activities might lead to questions being asked. Especially those of Anya. She had been with the Galactic Empire far longer than Zesiro had. She had gained rank and power within them. Had even been married Adron Malvern, though that had happened in their early days with the Empire. Before he had gained the rank he had with them now.

Zesiro had been a part of and gone from that Empire before Anya had joined. The fact was at that time, they didn't know they were sisters, but they had met each other then. Time had passed and they learned of their relation, promises had been they would never fight if they ended up enemies. Such had been the case when they met on Tatooine. However, she had been behind the lines of Empire so had been looked upon as enemies of the Confederacy as well. Lucking out in the end and kept their lives, they had been taken in by the Confederacy, allowed to heal...

A question was in the mind of Zesiro though. By being summoned, were they going to be sentenced for war crimes? She walked next to her sister with a limp only while Anya was tucked into a hoverchair to get around until a prosthetic could be given to her.

The doors opened before them and for the first time, laid eyes on others. One person drew her attention for a brief moment and then was gone. Just a person briefly encountered a few years ago and forgotten. What was she doing here? The others Zesiro had never met in her time with the Confederacy before she had been called away to go to Utapau. That trip had led her to Tatooine to recover before she was going to return to Edric and her position with him. Now here she was with her sister, summoned to a meeting where the outcome was unknown.

[member="Valae Kitra"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Katria Vekarr"] [member="Anya Malvern"]
 
It felt good, being at the helm of his beloved, the Stardust Melody. She’d just had a tune up, and her engine purred like a content loth-cat. Her handling wasn’t sticking anymore, and the gun wells had been serviced. There was also a thorough cleaning, so the floors shined like polished obsidian and the padding was a pristine white.

Cassius just wished that her maiden voyage after such a nice “spa day” wasn’t under such grave circumstances. [member="Valae Kitra"] had come to him with an important mission – take the both of them to Ryloth, so that she could help heal Srina Talon from the Confederacy of Independent Systems, who’d been severely injured after the invasion on Tatooine. He would have helped either way, but Cassius knew that Valae had chosen him for a specific reason, and it wasn’t just because he was a good pilot with a great ship.

His feelings on Srina, as well as her master and the Confederacy as a whole, were… mixed, to say the least. The dark side swirled within them, and yet there was so much potential for good. Ever since he’d met her on Coruscant, Cassius had considered her a friend, and still did. However, on his own journey to define for himself what being a Jedi truly meant, [member="Srina Talon"] and [member="Darth Metus"] were enigmas.

As Valae spoke, Cassius tore his attention away from the swirling blue of hyperspace in front of them and looked at the navicomputer to his left. “Yeah, we’re close,” Cassius said, flipping a few switches for additional inertial dampeners that would make their transition easier. “Just another minute or two.”

She tried to reassure him, as she didn’t have to be a Jedi to know how he felt. The concern had no doubt laced itself into his features. “It will be,” he nodded. He looked to her briefly. “They’ll have you.” He would never forget how she had healed him after his A-wing had practically exploded around him all those months ago. If she could save him then, she could save Srina now.

Turning back to the task at hand, Cassius said, “Alright. Coming out of hyperspace.” Just on cue, Cassius pulled back the silver handle.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3oXxM1ypUUM
Reverting back to real space was silky smooth, just as it should have been. Slowly, Cassius headed towards the surface of Ryloth, relying on the message from Valae to not get them blown out of the sky as they entered the atmosphere.
 
[member="Cassius Droma"] [member="Zesiro"] [member="Valae Kitra"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Katria Vekarr"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Eternal Vision"]

Scarred.....nearly dying a few times right on the gurney and after be transported...She only survived because of her WILL . It was a miracle they said that she even pulled through! One should've died they said!

She wouldn't die

If anything her anger increased, the empire....the Empire let her down! As they made their way for the sinners well her eyes stayed closed...her entire face covered in bandages to hide the scarred face beneath it. Such beauty had been destroyed and all that it left was a spirit no a fire! Ready to get its revenge

But however she remembered her patience....her eyes opened to glance around, she looked over to her sister for a moment before forward as she departed off of the transport, she was ready for whatever punishment was to be given....what else did she have to lose? Her husband divorced her, her body was ruined and her beauty taken...

She would find ways to fix her beauty, she knew of forbidden ways...but one step at a time. She turned to address her sister

whatever happens here and should I be sentenced to death I want you to take my son, get him to a family who can give him a normal life

Her voice was muffled a bit by the bandages but her words would be heard
 
Aryn Teth


Sinner's Well, Ryloth, Gaulus Sector, The Outer Rim Territories
Interacting With: [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Darth Metus"], [member="The Matador"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
Aryn was tired, exhausted, really. He had not yet slept aside from about two hours dozing off in the same seat he now sat in, since the battle of Tatooine he had been almost constantly on the move, bringing Srina here in the first place and since then ensuring he could help provide her with the care she needed, though the amount of assistance he had really been able to provide in the residence of Darth Metus was minimal. He was surprised that he had actually been permitted access to the secret sanctum of the Vicelord himself, and Aryn assumed it was likely only due to the case that he had brought Srina there himself, but still, he appreciated that he had been permitted to remain and watch over Srina along with the Vicelord.

Srina had become a close friend of Aryn's, one he was willing to protect and indeed, one who's own pain and suffering was directly linked to his own. When she had been hurt he had felt pain, concern and fury in equal measure, none of it had been the Jedi way, what was appropriate of the Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance, but it had been all that he could feel in the time, it all flowed through his mind and would not permit any calmer thoughts to break through. He had enough time since ensuring she was safe however, to let that fade, to let it settle far at the back of his mind, far from his mind's eye as he worked to keep his calm.

That anger threatened to return briefly as he saw the heavily armour-clad figure of the Matador move through the door, the man who he had seen initially over Srina. Aryn had taken her from his grip to escape, and the threat that he had uttered in the moment had been true and meaningful, even though Aryn perhaps now regret uttering the words. He gave the man a silent nod of his head but otherwise remained silent, settled into his seat as he turned his gaze cautiously to focus on the image of Srina within the bacta tank. He heard the words of Katrine as she came in, and knew there was little more that could be done in the moment, time would only tell if Srina would make her recovery, and so for now Aryn would sit in utter silence, his gaze lingering upon the figure of Srina within the bacta tank.

Waiting, and watching.
 
Location: ‘The Sinner’s Well’, Tatooine
Objective: Support Lord Metus
In Vacinity: [member="Katria Vekarr"] | [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] | [member="Zesiro"] | [member="Valae Kitra"] | [member="Cassius Droma"] | [member="Anya Malvern"] | [member="Aryn Teth"]
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Dalton Kenway walked with purpose through the bowels of the Sinner’s Well with two Confederacy soldiers following. The General wore his more regal attire out of both respect for the Confederacy and for his Corellian heritage.

Left hand holding the hilt of his sheathed sword and with blaster strapped across his back, the former General of Corellia had finished his sweep of the perimeter with the soldiers and enforced a lock-down of the area.

The wounds were still fresh from the clash with the Empire. He himself, still bemused at transporting a Hutt to her rightful throne, had seen the horrors of war but only from afar this time. Tatooine had been a blip on his career path; if only he had been stationed to help fight, he could have made a slight difference with all those Force wizards and witches flying around.

Security was constant, as was the activity around the Well, and Dalton found his way to the chambers where both [member="Srina Talon"] was hanging by a thread and [member="Darth Metus"] had been spotted.

”Any trouble, signal for me,” he said quietly to the Confederacy solider by him who nodded in silent understanding.

Dalton passed through, past a looming battle droid who stared into nothing, but was primed and active and ready to defend his masters in a heart-beat, and into the larger chamber. The bacta tank was evidently the focal point, and the silver-haired Sith was encased within. While he wasn’t attuned to the Force, it was a power and a religion far beyond his understanding, but he understood how important Srina was to the Confederacy and the Dark Lord teaching her.

He was here to support, to protect and to serve the group who had given him a chance.

Dalton said nothing as he came in, standing to the side, able to see all those within the room, and held a respectful silence for those praying for a positive outcome.
 
Darth Metus certainly felt his niece long before she returned.

And, in truth, he arrival had given him a jolt. Perhaps it was the sheer level of sleep deprivation. Or, perhaps it was a testament to the bottle which she had obtained from the Spirits...But the Sith was left with a distinct impression. Just by the sheer presence in the Force, the Sith half believed that his actual mother - Petra of Dathomir - was about to round the corner and grace them with her might. But, instead, [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] returned from her unexplained errand. His eyes immediately found the container which she carried, which perked him up immensely.

”You don’t mean…” he began. ”There are all sorts of affects that this could have. Best case scenario nothing happens, but worst case? She turns into the next Avatar?” A solemn sigh escaped his lips. ”But...I can’t doubt the Spirits. Mother would flay them all if they misled you. Fine. Proceed. With care.”

With a nod, he gave the young Witch his blessing. And in that moment, a vibration erupted upon his belt. Reaching, his fingers found and clutched a holo-disc which enunciated a brief missive from the Grandmaster [member="Valae Kitra"]. She was inbound and would be to Ryloth soon, accompanied by one [member="Cassius Droma"]. Good. If there were any negative side affects to what the Lupine was doing...at least there was a Grandmaster who could help reverse whatever it was coming.

My Lord, the Imperials have arrived.
The Sith’s brow knit into a heavy scowl as [member="Zesiro"] and [member="Anya Malvern"] were announced and promptly escorted forward into the room. Flanked by only a pair of Droids. This...This was the doing of their kind. Srina now clung to life because one of their own had struck her down. But all of this - the Great Galactic War, the clashes on numerous worlds, the displacement of millions - was due to the avarice of the Imperial mind. A wrathful exhale hissed from the Vicelord’s nostrils...but just this once, he would honor his apprentice.

Just this once would he try...his damndest...to do her proud in her absence. She always had a way with these political ventures. Always navigated effortlessly and with grace, as if she a born noble. Right now, the Sith had large shoes to fill. His gaze moved from those of the sisters’ faces to the allies standing all about. To General [member="Dalton Kenway"] who kept a silent vigil at the door. To [member="Aryn Teth"] who had become his brother in arms watching over the Echani. They were all here to support her - and not a one would want him to let her down. So he would not. He would do as Srina would.

”I have not had the opportunity to welcome you properly to my home, and for that I apologize.” he began, carefully chewing over his words before continuing. ”As you are aware, I am the Vicelord of this Confederacy: Darth Metus. And the two of you...were recovered from Tatooine. I trust that you have been recovering well from the battle and hope you are willing to...collaborate with us.”

He paused, biting back the urge to just tear the information from their minds bit by bit.

”We gain nothing by making your lives miserable. We gain nothing by taking your heads or leaving you to rot in a Geonosian cell. We have everything to gain if we work together. Freedom for the both of you...Valuable insight on my enemy for me. So, what say the both of you, are you willing to talk?”

[member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Zesiro"], [member="Anya Malvern"], [member="The Matador"], [member="Cassius Droma"], [member="Valae Kitra"], [member="Aryn Teth"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
 
[member="Darth Metus"] [member="Zesiro"]

Her chair moved forward towards the group of people assembled, she looked around the room her one good eye scanning each and every person before looking onto the biggest force presence she could find here...Darth metus. Her she it her at her bandages annoyed with them but however she needed to focus right now.

She listened to him and sat back letting a muffled sigh out, freedom for info....what could she even do with freedom, did she even want it? The answer was no. She had a fire burning within her right now that simply just couldn't be extinguished...the fires of revenge and war. Glancing to her sister for a minute and looked to [member="Darth Metus"] and spoke

take a look at me Darth metus, ive lost two of my limbs....and to make things worse I am scarred beyond anything...beneath these bandages lies a woman with barely anything. My allies left me, and I am now within enemy territory

She let a pause fill the air before she took a breath and spoke again

all I can do is talk, vice Lord Darth metus

She coughed a bit as she covered her mouth, she then sighed out again closing her eyes...She felt death within the room...or one so close it was heavy within the air...Glancing to the woman she thought for a second and then looked back to metus

however i do not want freedom, I have no use for it...instead I'll give all I know locations, bases, strongholds, access codes....even a way into kamino...in exchange I wish to pledge my services to the confederacy
 
Valae felt her heart grow warm upon hearing the encouraging words from Cassius, but she felt the weight of them on her shoulders as well. Her fingers flexed slightly, spread upon the console before her. She let her gaze focus on the small screen that indicated her transmission had been sent down to the planet successfully. The blur of hyperspace faded smoothly, and Cassius brought them safely down to the planet’s surface.

Gathering her things, she placed her medical backpack on her shoulders. Valae brought these instruments with her, though she knew that they would likely be of little use. Today she had a feeling that she would be relying upon the great healing power of the Force. A glance was cast in the direction of her pilot companion; there was a chance that she would need to draw upon his skills as a Jedi as well.

As the ramp lowered, the two would exit the Stardust Melody and make their way into Sinner’s Well.

Her hand rose and gently settled atop the healing amulet that hung around her neck – a gift from Metus himself. It was rather an odd thought that the amulet would come to visit Ryloth this way, but it was somehow comforting at the same time.
Walking together, the two would soon be met with the entrance to the Vicelord’s home. As was expected, they were met by guards that stood attentive and ready.

“My name is Valae Kitra, Grandmaster of the Silver Jedi. And this here is Cassius Droma.” She motioned, “The Vicelord is expecting us.”

This brief introduction was enough to satisfy the droids, and the two visitors from Kashyyyk were shown inside. The journey to the medical bay wasn’t long, but Valae could feel the tension in the air. And it quickly became clear that quite a group had assembled here.

Stepping inside, Valae offered a polite bow to those inside to make their presence known.

[member="Anya Malvern"], [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Dalton Kenway"], [member="Aryn Teth"], [member="Cassius Droma"], [member="Zesiro"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], [member="The Matador"]
 
As Darth Metus had put it, she and Anya had both been found behind the Empire's lines and it was within his right to think of her as an enemy. However, he didn't know all the details as to why Zesiro had even been there. At this point in time, they would likely sound more akin to excuses, even if they were truth. Waiting until her sister was done speaking before breaking her own silence, she returned the look Anya had given her.

What Anya said and promised almost surprised her, but she didn't question it or say anything about it. What she did or didn't do now was on her.

Giving Metus a nod before she spoke herself, her tone would be full of respect and honesty. A life of being beaten in more ways than just physical, it was a change that had come about after she had gone into hiding. Once the type of person to run from confrontation, Zesiro now stood her ground when it was called for and fought if she needed to. This wasn't about her today though.

She picked her words carefully and thoughtfully, "Darth Metus, I am in allegiance with the Confederacy already. Yes, we were recovered from the hands of the Empire and brought here, I thank you for that. However, my days with the Empire actually ended a few years ago. I can tell you everything from those days though. If you can believe it, I was gone from there before my sister joined. She's already given you her word and I do the same."

Her position with Edric would hopefully still be there when all of this was said and done.

[member="Valae Kitra"] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Dalton Kenway"] [member="Aryn Teth"] [member="Cassius Droma"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] [member="Katria Vekarr"]
 
Her attention was once again taken, this time by [member="Darth Metus"] as he began talking. He spoke of effects the ichor could cause. Best case scenario, he'd said, nothing happened but worse case she became the next Avatar. Katrine watched quietly, letting him speak his piece, accepting he shouldn't doubt the Spirits or Mother would flay them? Proceed. With care, he instructed her at last. He is right, the applications of the ichor are many, Jart agreed. You must be strong. You must be resolved. Doashim continued, making her sigh at what they were saying. "They agree, there is a lot of applications," Katrine told her Uncle, "but I do this and it's my will that will be done. I will heal her, not make her an Avatar." At no point did it cross her mind to even do such things.

The ichor had caused a change even in her as she'd stepped in, the green smoke entering her system. She was still her because she wanted to help those spirits trapped inside it. Her will would be done here, she'd ensure it, Katrine told herself as she noted the arrival of [member="Zesiro"] and @Anya Maveln. Uncle Isley would be talking to them though, she had other issues to deal with.

Moving over to the bacta tank, she touched the glass gently as she watched [member="Srina Talon"] from within it. "The spirits take care of their children, Srina. You'll be fine," she promised her before she had taken an empty unused hypo-syringe opened the container, concentrating on the content and the spirits. "Spring, water of life. Spirits, save your child, heal her," she muttered a silent prayer as she reached within the green smoke with the hypo, collecting it. Inside the glass vile, it seemed almost like green liquid. Once collected, she moved back to the bacta, focused on what she was doing that she hadn't noticed the newcomer in the room as she reached for one of the tubes to the side used for administrating painkillers directly into Srina's vein.

Katrine didn't hesitate now, injecting the green smoky liquid straight in, increasing the dosage just a tiny bit to speed it up, watching it move through the tube into the tub vanished into the container, the smoky shade of it still visible as it had moved into her system. She held her breath though as she watched, waiting until the first bits of entered the Echani's system. When they did she finally turned. "Now we wait," she informed her Uncle before she noticed [member="Valae Kitra"]. "Hi, welcome, wish it was under better circumstances," she told her and her companion, [member="Cassius Droma"].

[member="Aryn Teth"] [member="Dalton Kenway"]
 
As the Stardust Melody settled on the landing pad, Cassius could already feel the darkness that resided here. Sinner’s Well. An apt name, indeed. As a precautionary measure, he had T-4D4 stand by in the pilot’s seat in case they needed to make some sort of quick getaway. As usual, he had reservations about entering into an unfamiliar environment, but he knew how serious the CIS was. Taking off his lightsaber and blaster, he set them both in a secure footlocker. His only weapon would be his knowledge of the Force.

Even as they stepped off of the ramp and past security, he could feel the dark side of the Force weighing on his chest. He briefly glanced at Valae as they entered the building – he was glad that he wasn’t alone here.

They entered the medical ward, and Cassius’s eyes were immediately drawn to the main bacta tank, its blue glow casting eerie shadows around the room. Inside was Srina Talon – his friend, the Echani he had some sort of strange connection to. She looked as if she were frozen in time, with her skin looking somewhat paler than usual and her locks of hair slowly floating around her head. His heart went out to her, possibly unwittingly notifying her of his presence if she would even be aware of it. He wanted to go to the tank, to be closer to her, but he knew that any step out of line could be dangerous.

Taking his eyes off of her, he looked around the room. There were several people already here, the only other one Cassius knowing of was Darth Metus himself. He’d never formally met the man before, but had heard much from his apprentice. At the moment, Cassius didn’t care if the man carried the moniker of Darth – they were all on the same side.

A woman approached the two of them after he saw her put some sort of green fluid into the tank – some sort of medicine, he supposed. “How is she?” he asked in a low whisper, almost involuntarily. His concern was stronger than he anticipated.

[member="Valae Kitra"] | [member="Anya Malvern"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Dalton Kenway"] | [member="Aryn Teth"] | [member="Zesiro"] | [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
 

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