As Kings Behold (Isley)

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

The Massassi ritual circle spanned a hundred metres of reclaimed jungle. In its centre stood a five-millennium-old pedestal, big enough to hold two people and a sacrificial basin. On such a monument, Exar Kun had warped the Massassi to his will. Today, rather than a victim, the pedestal held two practitioners and a single artifact -- a large, flat pyramid of white metal. The victim was elsewhere.

The chest-sized pyramid hummed with the Dark Side as it awoke. "I should warn you, Isley," said the old man, jaw knotting in concentration, "this may be nothing like what you expect. Farsight is a tricky business, flow-walking even more so. To combine the two, even with the aid of the Mirr -- it's not done often or easily. That means we'll have to go deep, like Mind Walkers. There are risks. Flow-walking can be noticed by the sensitive in the past; we'll have to be unobtrusive. We could wind up trapped outside our bodies. We could make ourselves vulnerable. Plenty of variables.

"But we know the last time it was seen in public, and I've had a Clansman put a drop of my blood on that world to help me focus in that direction. We can trace it forward in time from there. Just let me know when you're ready, and we'll begin."

 

[Darth Metus]

Age had made Isley cautious.

In the wake of several years' worth of tampering, the Dark Side had taken the Dar'manda for a joy ride. It infected him. It made him prisoner within his own body. While there were moments of freedom, the past was littered with the escapades of one Darth Metus. Having been through such an ordeal, the Dar'manda-turned-Witch King began to temper his ambitions. At least as far as the Force was concerned. As such, as he stood upon the alter, Isley was heavily weighing the potential ramifications of this venture. On one hand, this would be a learning experience...and a stepping stone to an even greater conquest.

On the other, there was the potential to exist in a state worse than his imprisonment.

Calm, steady breaths were drawn as the Dark Side began to fill the space. This would be difficult, even for a seasoned practitioner aided by an artifact. This would be extremely difficult for a man who had never touched Far Sight. Time was of the essence...and frankly, they were here already. For the sake of Conquest...for the sake of Glory...Isley would face this risk.

"Such is life, I suppose." he began, placing a hand upon the old man's shoulder. His mind was opened: a link was ready to be established. "Let us hope this works in our favor. I'm ready."

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

"It's possible for an experienced practitioner to bring company along, both in flow-walking and in farsight. I've done that for decades -- with my children, and others. I'll provide the expertise if you lend me your power for this, at a few points along the way."

Ember hunched over the Mirr, eyes squeezed shut, and began to chant. And slowly, a vision took form.

They stood on the bridge of a gigantic warship, behind a tall woman in a black uniform. With a jolt, Ember recognized Ashin Varanin, and every uniform in sight was Fringe. The sensor readouts displayed two of the largest fleets he'd ever seen, easily forty or fifty thousand metres apiece.

"Welcome to the Battle of Rhigar, Isley," said Ember. "The Fringe Confederation versus the Sorcerers of Rhand. The Rhandites brought a fleet the size of the ones that fought at Druckenwell. If the Fringe had given them a fair fight...but that's a moot point. We're standing on the bridge of the Chimaera. And the Chrysalide should be coming up soon."

"Fringe forces, this is Task Force Hosanna commencing Operation Shotgun."

Several hundred kilometres away, the Rhandite command ships stood out against the black sea as misshapen specks.

The wide double-edged blade of the Chrysalide passed above them and into their field of vision, its multitudinous weapons too far away to perceive with exactness. Phototropic shielding dimmed the transparisteel as four Hellbore cannons and a thousand energy torpedo launchers spat pulses of light into the Rhandite formation at extreme range. The Chimaera's own eighty energy torpedo launchers, brutal but outclassed, joined the assault.

And in their wake came Finality-class supertransports, cardboard boxes a kilometre tall, disgorging twelve hundred Hammer-B LACs apiece. Each vomited a dozen long-range HELIX warheads. The detonations, when they came, were only tiny pinpricks, short-lived stars. HELIX warheads made things happen in the X-ray spectrum -- twenty laser beam pulses, each with the power of one and a half turbolaser blasts.

Varanin had brought every Finality in Fringe possession. The resulting thicket of crosshatched X-ray laser beams was awash with fratricide. But there were close to a million of those beams.

When the dust settled, the center of the Rhandite fleet was nothing more than fifty thousand metres of glowing slag. Ashin watched it all in crystalline detail, clearly felt the reverberations of hundreds of thousands of deaths, and appeared satisfied.

"Main elements, press the advance."

 

[Darth Metus]

For Isley, it was heartening to know that there was something of use he could do during this experience. Far Sight, again, was something well out of his bag of tricks. However, handing out parcels of energy was something he was at least...decent...at. Isley had tampered with Force Drain during one of his bouts of freedom, and apparently the glorified Virus had expanded upon said dabbling. Suffice it to say, the Witch King of the present was fairly comfortable with siphoning and (more importantly) lending energy.

"That, I can do." he replied, giving a nod of confidence.

Then, the chanting began. Isley understood the string of Paecian lyrics which formed and fell from Ember's lips. At once, the Force responded...and the ability to see the old man was lost. In his place was something rather surprising. T'was the Bridge of a vessel unfamiliar to the Dar'manda. Even more foreign was the woman they stood behind and the uniforms worn by the crew. Having stuck to the Southern Systems for so long, Isley was probably amongst a small population who didn't recognize the Fringe colors these days.

Ember dropped names. His digital collection of lore and whatnot had informed Isley of who the Sorcerers of Rhand were. And they amassed a naval force that rivalled that of Druckenwell? And lost? That meant one thing...the Fringe Confederation had some big fish. The Dar'manda watched, almost in awe, as the Fringe vessels unleashed their might against the Rhandite forces. Torpedos. Missiles. Cannons. Isley could only mouth two words as the battle unfolded before his gaze.

"Holy. Chit."

[member="Ember Rekali"].

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

"Clan Rekali has a serious fleet these days, Isley, but there are times I feel like a child playing with toys. Look at that."

Ahead, the Chrysalide fired a thousand energy torpedo launchers as one. Energy torpedoes absolutely thrashed long-range turbolasers for range and velocity. They suffered on recharge time, and they weren't all that strong. Each of the Chrysalide's torpedo projectors likely matched a standard concussion missile. But there were a thousand of them, all firing at once. Entire capital ships ceased to exist.

And that was nothing next to the indiscriminate slaughter unleashed with HELIX warheads. Millions of bomb-pumped X-ray lasers sheared through the Rhandite fleet -- a lattice of thorns. LACs died by the hundreds, targeted by precog gunnery officers. A costly, vicious way to fight. But on the other hand, where the LACs were dying, the Chrysalide was standing strong. Comparable, proportional amounts of fire streamed out of the Chimaera -- the ship where they stood.

Varanin glanced around. Ember gestured. Between one blink and the next, he and Isley were gone.

The scene became the larger bridge of the Chrysalide, then paused almost entirely, slowing. "We move forward from here," he said. "It wasn't long after this that the Fringe began to die. Too many losses to the Rhandites and the Underground, I think. Imperial overstretch. Internal schism. And not too long after the decline set in, this ship, and the one we just saw...vanished.

"Let's move forward and see what we can see."

A new scene took shape: the Chrysalide's bridge, bustling with frenetic, even secretive activity. "Ahh," said Ember, satisfied, "I thought I felt a change here, in time."

As they watched and listened, it became clear that a mass exodus was underway: the Fringe fleet abandoning the worlds they protected, under the short-lived and enigmatic warlord Vheissu Ireles. As to where they were going...

Ember straightened from a navicomputer display. "The Primeval..."

 

[Darth Metus]

"If you feel like a child playing with toys, then what does that make Arakyd?" he joked.

The reality was, the Chrysalide had more firepower than any vessel that Isley had ever seen. Despite losses on both sides of the engagement, that single vessel stood out like a sore thumb. It pumped devastation into the enemy lines, relentlessly tearing through the Rhandites with ease. The terrifying display was enough to cause the Dar'manda's jaw to drop, ever so slightly. Yet, before Isley could get too caught up in his growing admiration of the vessel, Ember gestured. Perhaps it was to get his attention, or maybe it was just a physical trigger to shift the vision. Regardless, Isley was soon not staring at the Chrysalide...

He was standing on it.

It was here that the vision seemed to slow, affording the two Kings an opportunity to look around. All the while, the old man shared the truth behind the nation's collapse. Heck, what happened to the Fringe was the same disease that had afflicted many nations; both modern and ancient. "The Sith Empire. The Protectorate. The Republic. The Fringe. All these great nations declined into obscurity. Begs the question: how much longer will the One Sith last?" he said. A side observation at the most.

A new scene. Time had been shoved forward. Maybe it was just his inexperience with the art, but was the room spinning? This time, Ember had something to go off of. Something that made the Virus within him...stir.

And thus is solved a great mystery.

The Hiss of Darth Metus' voice echoed within Isley's mind...and due to the link, Ember's.

Of course you'd butt in.

Come now, even you must have thought about it. The Primeval, zealoutry personified...how else could they have expanded so explosively?

The Virus had a point. Having a mass exodus' worth of warships show up would definitely propel expansion.

But now...another mystery begins. The Primeval has also fallen; perhaps due to the same symptoms as the Fringe. Where have these warmachines gone from there?"

Only time, literally, would tell.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

"Every empire carries the seeds of its own destruction. Or put another way, every great government is already falling. The One Sith have been in decline since not long after their victories at Teta and Second Coruscant. Now the Galactic Alliance has destroyed their temple on Coruscant, Ashin Varanin's Ke'dem army has hit half a dozen One Sith temples and academies. There's other indicators. The One Sith are on their way down. Even the Mandalorians -- but who knows. Maybe the Mandalorians and the Witches have been down and out so long that they've survived death and are starting something new, in a grand sense. Who knows."

Ember grew silent as a new voice intruded. He let it speak its piece, though impatiently. Around them, the Chrysalide's bridge crew moved with infinitesimal slowness.

"Isley, you seem to have a passenger. Want it removed, or does it work for you?"

 

[Darth Metus]

"Then it falls to us to learn from them." he began. "It seems this Witchmaster movement of ours has the chance to leave its mark. Let's make sure that it is lasting."

The response was, more or less, of insignificant importance. That is, in comparison to Ember's acknowledgement of the Virus. Isley's first reaction was, of course, to have his old friend aide in ejecting the cretin. However, having spent a solid span of time watching its escapades in the Primeval...well, suffice it to say that Metus had some useful information.

You worked closely to the Primeval, correct?

Aye. But these ships are foreign to me.

You gonna behave? Or do Ember and I have to put you in a smaller box?

This trip poses risks to the both of us. I won't jeopardize my own existence just to be in the driver's seat.

Isley paused. Chewing it over for a second.

"Pardon the interruption. He can stay..."

By all means, continue.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

"As long as you're sure."

The vision shifted, in a sense. The same ship's bridge, as its commander -- a Fringe officer Ember didn't recognize -- relayed orders from elsewhere. The holoterminal and conversation pegged the convening authority as one Vheissu Ireles, a tall, strong man, heavily tattooed; wouldn't have been out of place on Dathomir. Ireles was a name Ember knew from his research about the Fringe's exodus. Whoever he'd been, his career had been meteoric: shiny, but brief.

He explained all this to Isley as they watched the Chrysalide group up with other Fringe vessels and leave that corner of the Unknown Regions. Reading sensor and comms panels over shoulders, he recognized the telesponder of the Chimaera, and other ships of interest. Those vicious little Seroth-class frigates, for example, which Alec had locked horns with in the Neutral Zone.

"Dishonorable betrayal," Ember growled. "To leave their worlds undefended against so many antagonized enemies, in search of some promised land. I see colony preparations, but on a scale so much lower than what they left behind. And to fall in with the Primeval, the same sort of people the Fringe swore to oppose...I never had much use for the Fringe, but this is despicable."

 

[Darth Metus]

Both the Dar'manda and his Affliction listened intently to the explanation. For Isley, this individual was the definition of an enigma. He was an unfamiliar face, and given the meteoric nature of his exploits, the ignorance was warranted. For Metus, the name and face rang a bell...but only vaguely. While he had worked with the Primeval in the business sense, he did not have the opportunity to learn of enigmas such as Ireles. It was strange, to both men, that the mastermind behind the exodus could vanish so thoroughly.

You see betrayal, I see a dragon.

The words of the Virus echoed as Isley took a gander at the comm panels. Seroth-class? Interesting.

Oh, this ought to be good.

A dragon moving its horde. An act of pure avarice.

He paused.

The Fringe was known to protect their worlds. Yet this was ambition on a grand scale. This is a literal fortune of vessels we're seeing. Sound familiar?

"Doesn't sound like something a bonafide Fringer would do, if what you're telling me is true Ember. Sounds more like a cookie-cutter Sith."

Just a guess.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]


"I saw what I expected to see, but you're right. This is avarice, not cowardice. Your...friend has a point. The Fringe had its share of Sith, but they all established themselves. Ireles came out of nowhere. An opportunist, maybe, but somehow I doubt a Sith could dive in and take everything without getting hit by the people who'd built the Fringe. Ovmar, Varanin, Jacobs, Cordel, and the rest. No, there's something more going on. I've managed to link us to this ship's bridge, backward and forward in time, but I can't branch out too far afield or risk losing the anchor. Or I'd be very interested in seeing where this Ireles came from, who gave him his authority, and what he planned. But maybe this ship's future will tell us more."

They spent several subjective days -- objectively, they were still standing at the podium for a few hours -- skipping forward through the future of the Chrysalide. They noted when it took up defensive stations over a colony world, whose coordinates Ember memorized. But eventually, they saw the Primeval take control, to the point where the Chrysalide went on deep space patrol for the cultists. Ember and Isley skimmed through various events, taking notes.

But then the Primeval began to fall apart. That was clear enough in the timestamps and in the behavior of the crew.

 

[Darth Metus]

"Sounds to me like an inside job."

The realization came to Isley as the name "Cordel" moved his thoughts over to the Techno Union. During the good old days, back when Isley had established influence in the defunct Confederacy, he had quite a bit of sway. In fact, he had just as much sway as the Fringe names dropped; if not more. At the height of his influence, he might have been able to pull off a grand re-location of the Serenity. But there was no way that a random outsider, meteoric career or otherwise, could pull something like that off. It had to have been someone with just as much pull as the big wigs.

I concur.

Doubt it was Cordel. If it was, the Union would be swimming in these ships, not the Primeval.

What of Varanin, Jacobs, and Ovmar?

No clue. Haven't ever rubbed elbows with the lot of them.

As the subjective days rolled by, the Virus began composing a hypothesis. It wasn't anything tremendously concrete...but there was a slight chance of plausibility. After all, the theory was simply applying his own personal experience to another individual. By the time that the Primeval began to fall apart in their Vision, he was confident enough to voice his thoughts.

What if one of the builders of the Fringe simply put on a mask? he began.

Pretty sure Ashin Varanin isn't a buff man with ink.

If the culprit is indeed a Sith, would it not be easy to alter what the Galaxy sees? Look at us for example. How many know us as 'Isley Verd' and how many know us as 'Darth Metus'?

"Makes sense. What do you think, Ember?"

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

"I've never crossed blades with the Fringe. Alec did, though. It's mainly from her Underground service that I know even as much as I do about Fringe leadership. Varanin has had a number of faces, but her latest crusade against the One Sith seems to have used every resource she has, and the ships haven't shown up. Not even the Chimaera, her old flagship, the Sith Empire's old flagship." Ember leaned on the front consoles, staring out along the Chrysalide's keel. The vision felt quite real. "No, I knew her when we were young, and I've followed her career since. She'd have used these ships if she had them. I'd imagine she blood trailed them and lost the trail at some point, between faces. Either that or Ke'dem doesn't have the resources to man and supply these ships. So far as we've seen, they've basically just lingered in Wild Space and the Unknown Regions since the Fringe fell. They've crossed paths with each other a time or two that we've seen, but on the whole, I'd say they're...forgotten. Look at this. You can't support a ship like this on Wild Space peanuts. How often have we heard these people griping about payroll and rations?"

They were drawing closer to the current time frame, but there was still a good way to go if they intended to understand the Chrysalide's course.

 

[Darth Metus]

"So the bottom line is that Varanin and Cordel aren't the likely masterminds."

What do we have on Jacobs and Ovmar?

"All I know of Jacobs is that she almost had Genesis blown out of the sky."

Ah, Atrisia.

"Outside of that, I personally don't know anything about either of the two."

Same.

The deductive train was slowing down, but at least the Vision was nearing the present. Perhaps they would find more as the scene continued to evolve around them. Present Day was fast approaching.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

"There are other possibilities. [member="Lucianus Adair"] comes to mind. For a while, he was the Fringe's sole ruler: all the others answered to him. He's known to be a large man and the Underground believes he's a Sith. He hasn't been heard from since the Fringe fell. There's also Admiral Manu Xextos, another large man, like Ireles, and a Master of the Force. He was believed to be a Lightsider, but how good can you be fighting shoulder to shoulder with people like Varanin? Both Adair and Xextos might be Ireles. Both vanished around the right time, both were Forcers, both were the right size if I remember right. If we don't find answers at the end of the flow walk, we should look into tracking them down.

" You know Cordel, right? Would he have insights? "

 

[Darth Metus]

"No."

The tone of the Virus' voice had a sort of...finality to it.

"Manu is not the one responsible. This I know for a fact."

"And you're certain of this, how?"

Manu is Ahani's boy. He's currently the steward of some far-flung world whose name escapes me. Light to a fault, that man. Taking a plethora of ships from a nation that protected its people to a realm of zealots isn't remotely in his nature.

The subject of Ahani. Now there was a tale of heartbreak if ever there was one.

"Alright, what Adair? Any insight on him?"

Another unfamiliar face.

"Ember, worse comes to worse, I can use the old Union connections. Pretty sure Metus here is still recognized as a member of the Executive Council. If nothing else, that might inspire Cordel to help us out in this search."

And that was better than nothing.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

Ember nodded. "Well, for now, let's move forward in time and see what we can see."

Still on the bridge of the Chrysalide, they skipped ahead, moments like snapshots separated by blurs of motion. And then, all at once, the visuals changed. The attitude, the atmosphere, even the uniforms. Ember rewound somewhat, and he and Isley watched the Primeval schism.

The question came down to one [member="Catalys Maijora"], a non-Force-sensitive operative, and Zambrano the Hutt, a genocidal Dark Master. Though other ships were mothballed in Primeval territory, the Chrysalide and an accompanying fleet fell under Mejora's purview. And from there, they passed with him into the realm of the One Sith. Between one time-slice and the next, the bridge crew acquired pride, cleanliness, and Sith uniforms. The timestamps were quite close to the current day. Ember turned to Isley and raised an eyebrow.

"Well this is interesting..."

 

[Darth Metus]

Zambrano...why am I not surprised...

"Yeah. This makes total sense."

Isley and Metus both took a moment to explain the connection. The Primeval existed during an era in which there was only one plausible ally: especially given their location in the Galaxy. It was no question that members of the One Sith and members of the Primeval served the other nation on the fly; as allies typically did. With the decline of the Primeval looming, it made sense that their more powerful vessels would be seen into the hands of their closest ally. Especially if the name Zambrano was attached to the deal.

"Now we have something to work with. A One Sith face to track..."

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

"So, questions going forward. Who's this Catalys person? What connection, if any, is there between Catalys, the Zambrano family, Vheissu Ireles, and the Fringe Confederation's leadership? Something has to have been exchanged for all of this -- is there money to follow? And most importantly, where is this ship assigned?"

The last question, of course, could be answered by just hanging around the bridge and watching orders and listening to updates and seeing how the ship jumped. Ember and Isley even stopped by some briefings, watching some orders come in from interstellar distances. In the end, they decided that the Chrysalide seemed to be the flagship of a high-level operative's fleet, a sort of modern-day Executor and Death Squadron. Difficult to take, tougher than any target Ember had soloed, but not impossible.

They came at last to the modern day, and the flow-walking changed tenor to fit possible futures. Ember scanned a few of those, just to be sure the ship wasn't going to run into an asteroid tomorrow, and then the ritual came to an end.

Bodily awareness returned. It was night, but probably not the night where they'd left off. He found himself crouched over the Mirr and the pedestal, on Yavin IV, in a state of profound cramp.

 

[Darth Metus]

They had begun the project with but a single inquiry in mind. Several days' worth of Flow Walk later, they emerged with even more questions. However, despite the rabbit hole that laid before them, the Witch Kings had a solid lead. They had direction.

As per the Dar'manda's part in the ordeal, Isley took a moment to refresh his old friend. He borrowed some local energies and dispersed them between the two: enough to alleviate some of the stiffness. It was a paltry remedy compared to a good night's rest.

"So now we know where the Chrysalide is. We have a vague idea of where the other vessels are...Remind me to drag you to wherever those Seroth frigates are. They seem to have quite a bit of bite in them." he said, seating himself upon the ground.

"The Witchmasters can handle this, I'm certain. The One Sith isn't the same monster that it used to be. We can take them."

[member="Ember Rekali"].