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Apocalypse: Rhommamool/Osarian (One-Shot)

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
Writer
OOC/ This post cleared by several RPJs and Admins, as well as Faction Admins of both the Republic and the Omega Protectorate. Direct your complaints to me.

RHOMMAMOOL/OSARIAN

Space seemed to dance outside the window of the ancient Sith cruiser. Reclaimed from the ship graveyard over Mugg Fallow, near Aza'Zoth, the vessel had cost a fortune to refit. A fortune he'd spent two hundred years accumulating, soon to be wiped out. The vessel, its engines, its life support systems, its weapons – irrelevant. This particular Derriphan-class battlecruiser held a treasure six thousand years old, a relic from an age where bigger dreams played out across a galactic stage. The battlecruiser, two hundred metres long, fit just barely into the hold of a generic Tempus Ardet bulk freighter.

Starlight flickered against a set of crystals. Velok knelt before them as he'd never knelt to anything. The secrets of their construction had been lost in ages past, and he'd recovered those secrets piece by piece. The final fragment, the spells necessary to empower the alchemical masterworks, had come from the Spellbook – the ultimate treasure of the Sith Empire, and one he'd stolen with the aid of Lord Dissero. The heist had made him number one on the Empire's most wanted list.

Worth it.

The Spellbook's arts were one component; alchemy for the crystals, another. A third component came from the teachings of the Telos Holocron, now safely in the mail, parcel post to @[member="Tyrin Ardik"]'s front door.

“Now,” he said, basso profundo, and the crystals began to glow as he and his companion – a tall, muscular human, like a young Whiphid in stature – stretched out to drain the life from the ship's small crew. Priming the pump, as it were. Setting the crystals to singing.

“Two hundred years, Cavill. Two hundred years learning everything, doing anything. This is one of the few firsts left to me. Imagine, if you will, a solar system where two governments' borders come infinitely closer than they do anywhere else. Imagine that one has recently taken a planet with a superweapon, and another has recently build a meditation ship that could arguably unite the power of a thousand Force-users. Imagine someone has...an accident.”

The crystals flared to life at last, and he turned to the other two humanoids. “My thanks, Dissero, Zankarr. I could never have come this far without you. And all together now-”

He opened another window, revealing an open hatch in the Tempus Ardet, and beyond it the system primary, a normal star. Sith Magic to an unspeakable degree, bolstered by the accumulated energies of the ship's crew and of Cavill himself – the young Master was here as a battery, no more – reached out across an astronomical unit to touch the star's core. Incantations rolled from Velok's tongue, spells taken from the greatest treasures of the Empire.

They saw nothing...but he felt everything, as the ancient ship's power ripped the heart from the star and the supernova began.

Trembling, the Dark Lord touched a mechanical control, a slave rig, and the now-unmanned Tempus Ardet reoriented slowly with the Derriphan in its belly. He cleared his throat and his head as best he could, looking over Jacen Cavill, Val'Ryss Zankarr, and Lord Dissero. “We have slightly over eight minutes before we see it,” he said, “and if we see it, the radiation wave will vaporize us along with the planets. Eight minutes is...more than enough for us to do as Naga Sadow is said to have done. And this will never, ever happen again.”

He pressed a single button, and the vessel leaped to hyperspace.

And certain elements were set in motion -- tiny bits of data released, unbeknownst to the Whiphid's companions -- which suggested to Republic Intelligence and its Omega counterpart that the Dark Lord Velok had been involved. Let them think what they would.
 
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