Disbelief

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

Hevn’s Sith infiltrator drops out of hyperspace in the Geonosis system. The giant bug infested rust ball lurked within view of the cockpit where Hevn stood behind his pilots.

His pair of followers were an unlikely duo. Mad Claws was an exiled Catharian. Short and stout his feline features were topped off with a thick mane of tangled brown that wrapped around his head. He was named for the reason of his exile, using the claws native to his species to maul an enemy in self defense. Such things were still punishable in a life and death situation, a sentiment that Hevn did not share. Bedrovelse trained Mad Claws to be an even more formidable foe, embracing that ferocity and resourceful nature the Catharian already possessed. Mad Claws felt welcome and respected under Hevn’s service and had been a loyal addition to the crew for a many years.

Roarshen Alpha sat next to Mad Claws. A hulking Shistavanen with an eye patch over his right eye. Once a cantina owner on Uvena Prime, a planet under Hevn’s control as a warlord, he found a more lucrative living as an informant, spy, and enforcer for Bedrovelse. Alpha was trained as a dark Jedi by Hevn, as Hevn saw benefit in a more capable servant. Alpha had at one point attempted an attack on Hevn and was beaten and tortured beyond his worst nightmares. After being victim to the terror Hevn imposed on him, he begged for his life and was shown a miraculous act of mercy. Bedrovelse knew that terror would stay with Alpha forever and it had not been attempted since. Alpha did not relish the idea of Hevn’s ire finding its gaze upon him ever again.

Geonosis used to belong to Hevn. The natives left to their business while he was left to his. Partnered to raise a droid army capable of crushing Hevn’s enemies. Returning from the Unknown Regions searching for a greater connection to the force, he assumed his complex outside the native capital would be the safest place to return. Instead, Hevn observes fleets and stations orbiting a once forsaken planet. An expansive city crawled by as the planet spun quietly in place. That was new. It also meant that someone had erected that with enough credits and control to be in charge here. He should have been more wary of galactic powers seizing the droid factories. The question remained, who? Could they be bought? Intimidated? Deceived? That would take time and clandestine operation to discover.

Hevn was never the type to ask permission. “Take us in. Activate the cloaking field.”

Mad Claws jerked the ship into motion as he pushes down on the thrusters. Alpha’s massive paws drag across the controls of the cock pit, activating the cloaking. The ship shudders as the stealth field generator dies with a croaking whine. Hevn’s glare remained firmly on the planet ahead, the fleet drawing closer. An air of fear crept from his pilots as the cloaking died and they anticipated Hevn’s fury.

Mad Claws broke the silence warily. “ My Lord, your spell of concealment?”

“Useful against sentient eyes. Technology of their caliber will surpass my conjured illusions. Confusing them will yield worse results than attempting to make new friends. Give me the comm.” Hevn’s reply was void of his usual irritation. He was far more interested in the direction this would take once they searched his ship. Provided this was not a Jedi enclave, they should at the least be ejected from the planet without extensive conflict.

::Geonosis control. This is Bedrovelse Hevn. Seeking permissions to my outpost outside the Stalgasin Hive spires::

Mad Claws turned toward Hevn. “We are kriffed.” Alpha snorts, nodding in agreement.

Hevn musingly answers, “ We will find out shortly how many we will have to kill today.”

A solemn silence fell over them like a blanket.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The normal protocols for unknown ships flying foreign IFFs was simple, if not boring. CDF elements in Golbah would mark the ship, make contact, guide them into a landing bay and task a small contingent of Droids and a greeting party to ensure they were not a danger to the people or the city itself. When a ship came out of cloaking well within atmo and appeared on the radar well beyond the appropriate distance, the situation got flagged as a bit more complicated.

Even with a greeting on the books, it escalated instantly to the Knight Commander on duty, and he frowned. The text across his HUD read "potential infiltration by hostile forces. Ship classification: Infiltrator." Alkor drew his Holopad and brought the data up in real time, watching and waiting to give further instructions.

In the Flight Control tower, CDF responders were already working to contain the situation. "This is Geonosis Control, your IFFs do not appear to be on file with the Confederate Database. While we can put the paperwork in to give you the clearance you're asking for, you will have to land in Golbah City and go through the appropriate channels in order to obtain it."

They hesitated, uncertain how the mysterious newcomer would respond to that, but continued nonetheless. "If you are amenable, we will dispatch a pair of ships to guide you into the nearest landing bay and bring you in."

The line was kept open, but the comms officer muted it and turned to look over his shoulder. "Any word from the Knights Obsidian on how to proceed with this one?" he asked, a cool sweat forming on the back of his neck. "We don't exactly get many of these in the capital."

"No," Officer Jory Arkadian shook his head. "We do not, but the situation appears to be under control. Knight Commander Centaris has taken a personal interest in this situation, and said he will attend the unknown pilot himself."

"Himself?" the officer blinked. "Odd that he wouldn't just send one of the other Knights, isn't it?"

"Yes," Jory folded his arms, "but do you intend to question it? I certainly don't."

"No, I suppose not," he murmured.

They sent the request down to Docking Bay 26, in the Sprawl. It was far enough from the Vicelord and anyone of utmost import that a situation could be relatively contained and dealt with at a safe distance, should it escalate. Alkor had sent explicit instructions. For his own part, it meant that he could limit what anyone else saw or heard, because it was the least well-monitored area of the city.

It meant that, if this really was [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] he was dealing with, they could have a private conversation- and if things went awry, well, it meant [member="Darth Metus"] was at a safe distance from one of the most dangerous men in the Galaxy.

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

Hevn’s scowl unravels slightly. It wasn’t so much a smirk as, grimacing less. “Confederates? Hmm.”

It was the best news the crew could have gotten logically speaking. Neither Jedi, nor Sith, nor Mandalorian. They would be presumably less excitable about a lightsaber on his waist than more close minded planetary occupants. Confederates classically only raised issue with whatever party it was that pushed them toward liberation or oppression. Given Hevn and his team were from relatively nowhere and attached to no factions, the expectation was for this to transpire peacefully.

His pilots exhale with relief at the answer through the comm. Hevn remains focused, jabbing the button again.

:: I will comply. Holding for escort.::

The ships in question pounce from the darkness of space to flank either side of the Infiltrator. Hevn nods to Mad Claws as to keep a relaxed pace toward the planet. He turns to seat himself for the descent and buckles in. They continue toward the mass of activity bustling about on the planets new major city. This was foreign territory, none of it familiar in any way save for the howling gales raking sand over the ship as they followed the escorting ships. It made it difficult for Hevn’s analytical mind to identify anything through observation that might be useful in the coming engagement. As they stayed in tow of the escort a wave of nerves seized the cockpit.

“My Lord.....”, Mad Claws growled. “Didn’t they say nearest landing bay? This is getting a little out of the way.”

Hevn’s frown returned as he realized the Catharian was right. They neared the docking bay and Hevn releases himself from the safety restraints, striding toward his armory. The advantage of being such a motley crew was that while suited up, the trio easily passed for mercenaries, slavers, or smugglers. Albeit, unusual ones. Hevn changed from his robes into black pants, and a black tank. Over it he straps on his blaster holsters, slipping his DL-44’s into place. He throws on a large black greatcoat of black krayt leather, and inside of it clips his lightsaber Kraytos to hang from within it.

Whether they were being led astray for the safety of the city, or an ambush was anybody’s guess. The escort breaks stride and bank away from the flight path as the Infiltrator touches down on Bay 26. Hevn triggers the ramp and it falls with a hiss to touch the floor of the docking bay. The welcome wagon was prepared for them. At first glance, no single soldier appeared to be the one in charge. Their weapons were poised for action but there was none among them who appeared ready to give the command. They were waiting.

Exactly as boldly as the ship had probed dangerously into Confederate territory, Hevn strides down the ramp in front of Mad Claws and Alpha. His long legs sweep before him until he is on the hangar floor. There is no trace of fear or concern. One trick Hevn had learned in life was that looking like you belonged somewhere got you farther than skirting the edges suspiciously. He begins counting men and identifying the exits. The ship may be toast, but escape through force was conceivable....at least for Bedrovelse. His servants knew that they would be left to fend for themselves and understood their odds were slimmer than those of the Dark Jedi Master. This made them uneasy, and dependent on their superior’s handling of the situation.

Hevn drinks in the power of the force. Keeping his mind clear as his aura flooded the hangar, and raced through the docking bays. Feeling for any peculiarities. To his dismay, many flexed against his ebbing darkness. This place was crawling with force users that Hevn had to consider potential opposition. There were two auras in particular that flexed as hard as even his own. Their levels rivaling his own made him extra cautious.

“I’m aware of my unfortunate position as an intruder, but I desire to know the meaning of this.” Hevn speaks with a menacing undertone of rising danger. His voice tainted by the chime of mechanical vocal chords.

Bedrovelse begins priming himself with the force. Thickening the aura around him with rage. Coiling it to his body in preparation to defend himself. Focusing and clearing the mind to adapt in demand of necessity.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

He gestured toward either side of the corridor and his contingent of Knights took up positions on either side. Silently, he bid them to turn down their auditory transceivers so that they could not listen in. It was curious, and they exchanged glances, but ultimately they trusted in leadership and did as they were told. He took a few steps forward as the bay slipped open and the Sith Infiltrator careened into a gentle landing mere feet from where he was standing, and the cloak of his armor whipped wildly in the crosswind.

The sight was one he had braced himself for, but still scarcely believed. [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"], in his infernal glory, dressed down to casual wear and trying desperately to fit in. To anyone else, it might even have worked. Alkor was a mixed bag of responses which he kept closely guarded, his hood and mask still fixed securely in position.

The mechanical voice that resulted was a far cry from his own. "On behalf of the Vicelord, Darth Metus, I welcome you to Golbah City, the Capital of the Southern Systems." He wore his twin sabers very obviously at either hip, but his hands were clasped behind his back as he observed the other Dark Jedi and his two allies.

"You are Bedrovelse Hevn?" he asked quietly. There could be no mistake. The aura was almost impossible to mistake, and his visage- a Brother never forgot the face of his kin. "I am Knight Commander of his Lordship's Knights Obsidian, second in command to the Dominus Prime, [member="Elessar Talon"]. I am here to ensure a speedy processing for you, provided your Identification checks out."

He waited for confirmation, and once he had it, he could proceed.

Not yet. Not until he knew. He had to be certain he was not the last of his kind.

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

‘Darth...Sithspit.....these are Inquisitors.’

Hevn was already made of metal and wires, he couldn’t exactly tense up about the situation. Mad Claws and Alpha could feel their stomachs churning in disappointment. If the three were not already of miserable disposition it would have been palpable on their faces. The guy with the lightsabers is usually in charge, but the guy with the longest title definitely is. Hevn remembered the pretty titles and the importance he felt wielding them. The power it had over others, persuaded to obey by a name alone, without merit or validation. It was tool used to impose that belief in others.

There was a serious problem with Inquisitors. They had greater tools at their disposal in both resources and freedom. The power of the force, and no reason to do things the nice way. Sith Lords responded to quick and precise results. Another challenge was what reputation his name brought to these ears, if any at all. He presumed the words were hollow, and simply to identify him as the leader of the ship. Bedrovelse finally had one of them to affix his cold glare upon. Sizing up the Knight Commander as Hevn squares his shoulders toward him.

The choice between being direct and being deceptive tore at him. The madness of a man using his Sith name to command a planet within the confederacy was a dangerous prospect. Such things were exceptionally rare outside of Sith Empire type activity. Did he try to sell the mercenary act? Play the dark side card? The path was yet unclear. Hevn’s scowl intensifies concentrating upon the Knight Commander.

“The one and only. Your welcome is quite generous Commander. Perhaps I can be of some service to amend for my error in judgment. To yourself or your Lordship?”

Unfortunately for Hevn, his diplomacy was not what it once was. His silver tongue replaced by a synthetic one that did not share the originals skill at word weaving. He spoke without charm or friendliness, as those things were beyond his reach now. There was only his cool and distant tone attempting to barter for freedom and it didn’t give him very much confidence in averting bloodshed. Such was the way of Hevn, though. No one could be trusted, nothing left to chance. Everything had to be assessed for threat and weakness so that he would not lose advantage wherever he set foot.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"It would be best to present yourself to the Vicelord with such a proposal," he replied, "as the Knights Obsidian report directly to him, and our function is primarily security for the Confederacy." He gestured toward the ship and called over his shoulder. "See to it any necessary repairs to this ship are made and it's fuel reserves replenished."

"Sir!" One of the Knights stepped forward and made several acute gestures toward one of the Droids off to the side of the Bay, which almost instantly responded with a series of wild beeps and blinking lights.

Alkor turned his gaze back to Hevn. "In the meantime, we have a great deal to discuss," he told the unliving Ensolican as he reached up and pulled back his hood. The mask, holographic in nature, faded away in an instant to reveal his face.

"Geonosis is a far cry from Muunilnst. It may be the very last place I expected to see any of you again." His violet eyes hid nothing of his true nature as he spoke with one of his own kind for the first time in nearly a decade. "Things have changed. This is not the Galaxy it once was."

He tempered his excitement and rage into a cool, yet smoking metal. It lay dormant but ready beneath the surface, in the event that [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] did not take well to the revelation. It would take far more than a few words to quell his rage, if it came to that.

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

‘Absolutely not. Hell NO!’

This couldn’t be a dream. Hevn did not indulge in the act of sleep. The violet eyes and rough features were familiar to him, but nothing else of [member="Alkor Centaris"] was recognizable. His aura was foreign, his personality....twisted and that was saying something. Hevn took preference to the wild version of the Dark Jedi. Whatever stood before him was a stranger. Testing his theory Hevn tries to reach out to Alkor in the force, and finds no purchase. Like a call dropping signal or sent to the wrong number, the effort floundered and failed.

Alkor was never anyone’s bootlick and yet he referred so calmly to this vicelord. Even among those Alkor had called Master, he was no servant. Compliant within reason, but at heart one of their most renegade brothers. Seeing him here was inconceivable in every sense to the point of absolute disbelief. Figuratively speaking, Bedrovelse’s brain was hemorrhaging trying to process the truth. This was impossible.

When last they met they spilled the blood of Vicelord soldiers and scattered droids like these to the winds. What could he be doing among them?

“So have you,” Alkor was no stranger to Hevn’s seething disdain. “I trust it is for the stronger. It is likewise the last place...no, an impossible place to see you again.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Walk with me, Brother," he entreated with a slight gesture toward the corridor behind him, "I will tell you of what has happened since last we saw one another. Muunilnst lies in the hands of the Sith now, and all memory of the Jen'jidai is forgotten. The Skyhook falling to the earth destroyed all traces of Villa Obscurum, and all the lingering footprints of William Reign and Eversio have been erased."

That was only the beginning, but hardly unexpected. He began with that, because everything that followed was nonsensical. He had to give the man something believable to hold fast to. "I sense your confusion, and allow me to abate your concerns: Darth Metus is my Brother. I choose to protect his Confederacy of my own volition, and I have joined the Knighthood to that end."

They began moving back toward the terminal, where the skiff that would whisk them away toward the Crown. "I have been many places since we departed. I sought out other Dark Jedi, I lived among Mandalorians, I worked with Sith- but nothing they taught us prepared me for what the Galaxy has become."

Once they stepped aboard the platform, it began to scurry skyward. A view of the Sprawl became massive below them, a labyrinthine maze of pipes and streets that began to disappear and was dwarfed by the magnificence of Golbah's upper city. "The Confederacy of Independent Systems is but one Galactic power among many. There are Jedi now who use military Force, and Sith who's Imperial dominion stretches across their ancient space. Adaptation has been..."

He exhaled sharply. "It is good to see you again, Bedrovelse."

[member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

“Likewise [member="Alkor Centaris"]. You can imagine how far south I thought this was going. It’s just strange coming back. When I left these mighty powers had been reduced to crumbs. Everyone was dead. Now it’s chaos.”

Hevn was best dealt with directly, and Alkor did so exactly. He could relate to the way fate’s hand and the flow of the force take all of us down unexpected paths, making unexpected allies. With the Dark Jedi gone they both had to move forward, and it would seem Alkor beat him to it.

“I commend your growth. I should like to stay for a time. Perhaps you can show me what it is you fight for here.”

As wild as it all was the strangest part was seeing him in the flesh again with new allies. A changed man. Such inspiration raised curiosity. Hevn had been witness to savagery that even he could not replicate. It was like watching a rancor cut loose in the senate rotunda. Nothing was safe from his fury. Traditionally, his Brother didn’t play well with others either. He was leading a group of force users into battle now and dedicating himself to protecting something.

Hevn had become admittedly isolated and vicious after the fall of the Order. His vengeance was precise and final upon every soul who fuels the furnace of eternal hate. Now that war was over. In the void of revenge, which had always driven him, he struggled with madness. In meditation and commune with the Jen’jidai from beyond and gained clarity and peace with his existence at last. In time though he found their spirits poisoned by the netherworld, though some could say they were always that dark to begin with. Hevn had enough experience with the spirits to know when to stop and move on.

Now the will of the force brought him here. To Alkor and his allies. That was enough of a sign after drifting to give a chance.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"When I saw the report, I hurried to meet with you myself. The Confederacy is very backlogged and if it had come to an investigation, you could have been stuck in holding for quite a lengthy amount of time." He watched the cityscape speed by, the breeze jostling his hair. "I also scarcely believed it when I heard your name. Nothing of my old life remains. Our kind- true warriors- we are a rare breed in these times."

He glanced toward Hevn and folded his arms. "Because I took the lead on this, I will be handling all the paperwork myself. I know you, and I trust you. If you wish to stay, I will arrange for you to be quartered for as long as you wish."

Alkor let down the facade of Knight Commander and closed his eyes.

"This life- it is foreign to me," he finally admitted. "I have never been one to protect things. I scarce work well with others. Gaining the trust of these people- it is no easy task. Many of them still remember me as an enemy of the State, from my time with the Mandalorians."

[member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] stood nearly a full head taller than him, and when he looked at the Behemoth of a man, he had to glance upward. Despite that, there was mutual respect, and no trace of intimidation. Hevn was a cruel man by nature. In their earliest interactions, he had given Alkor a vicious wound forever to serve as a memory of failure. In spite of that, Centaris bore him no ill will.

"If you like, I can arrange a meeting with Isley for you as well, and we can see about getting you acclimated."

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

Hevn takes a moment to muse over the faces of the men from in the hangar. He had already visualized the twisted look of terror etched on each of them as he would have been forced to slay his way free of containment. Alkor’s intervention may have proved very fortunate for them. Hevn is impatient and impulsive, and was quick to take control of situations in which he felt building tension. They would never know that Alkor saved them, they would never thank him, or even express internal gratitude for what they could not know. It was amusing how delicately life and death balanced on such tiny threads. Hevn was the kind of force user who paid careful attention to the web. The spiders and flies alike were all important to the game.

Hevn sighs in reflection, he is a creature of necessity in a world with no need for him. Maybe his Brother would inspire some purpose or at least occupy him for a while. Truthfully it was the best course for him. It would be easier to acclimate here than to roll the dice against the rest of the galaxy. He knew what it meant to be enemy to all except the Dark Jedi Order. He was a stroke of death that nobody was safe from. The only thing more dangerous than a single Jen’jidai was many. The ally he found in Alkor would be a stepping stone into finding a new place here.

The thought of enlisting in something, anything really, made him uneasy. He was the commander. The one behind which the bloodthirsty and ruthless rallied to victory. To which the cunning and beguiled conspired their plans in favor of. Did he even remember how to fight for something other than himself? Time would tell.

“I feared the welcome of an enemy, and found a Brother. Lost and found many times over. I am at the mercy of your direction. If there is a back log in the confederacy perhaps I may be of some use to you, [member="Alkor Centaris"].”

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"The Southern Systems are open to you, if I have any say in the matter," Alkor replied evenly as they glided toward their final destination. At the Apex of the Crown, the myriad buildings that stretched skyward greeted them like a hand with massive fingers outstretched. He pulled out his datapad and put several commands in, which caused their platform to shift, lurch, and climb in altitude. "Finding a place in this Galaxy is difficult. If you seek power, there are many forms of it to be had; for those in the Confederacy, Freedom is valued above all else. There are enemies whose grand ideas of power conflict with this, but..."

He waved a hand and bid Bedrovelse take in the sight of the Confederate War Machine all around and above them as it came into full view. Droid armies, massive fleets and in particular, Metus' Dread Queen in view above them. The Super Star Destroyer cast a long shadow across the desert beyond Golbah, managing to dwarf even the massive city.

"...modern problems require modern solutions, as you can well see."

He switched the datapad over to its messenger application and sent a quick message off. If he was lucky, Isley would have a moment to spare. If not, well, he would find another way to entertain [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] for the time being.

"Welcome to the heart of Golbah City," he told the other Jen'jidai. "And here, we have the Chamber of Commerce, where the Viceroyalty conduct their business. [member="Darth Metus"] should be here."

 

[Malok]

The chime of a datapad aroused attention.

For but the briefest of moments, the Vicelord had a void in the dizzying schedule he kept. He had just dismissed the latest cadre of politicians who had the most "wonderous" of takes on current affairs. And in the wake of their departure, the Sith found himself very much alone. The confines of his office space finally ran quiet, save for the gentle crackle of the fireplace across the room. Rising from behind his desk, Darth Metus took purposeful strides over to his personal bar. A centering huff fell from his lips as he attempted to put aside the heap of frustration resting upon his shoulders.

The perspectives of politicians were beyond irksome in most instances. And thus, it was a wonderful thing to have a second to breathe. The Sith procured for himself a glass, adorned it with a few cubes of ice, and selected a bottle of Idlewil. It had become one of his favorites ever since [member="Valencia Hadley"] wandered into his life - and now, he never left home without a bottle nearby. The smooth liquor cascaded into his glass without delay - but before Darth Metus could even indulge in a sip, his pocket vibrated with a message. That...was never a good sign. There were only a few people in the Galaxy who could get through to him during his meeting hours.

And typically, they only reached out when the world was on fire. It was not like [member="Adron Malvern"], for example, to send a message just saying hello. Thus, the Sith capped the bottle of Idlewil and produced the device from his pocket. Fortunately...it was something overwhelmingly positive. [member="Alkor Centaris"], his brother, had requested a meeting if time permitted. Even if the Sith didn't have time, he would certainly make some for this man. And thus a quick response was given, bidding him to come by his office. The Knight Commander knew the way. And, by the time the duo would arrive, the Sith would have returned to his desk.

Alkor and [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] would find the leader of the Confederacy seated behind his desk once more. Before him laid the bottle of Idlewil, a bottle of Tihaar, and a bottle of Corellian Whiskey. A vessel of ice with tongs laid ready, as did a pair of glasses for the pair. They would be free to help themselves on arrival - for what sort of brother would he be if he didn't at least offer a drink?

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

Hevn takes a moment, as Alkor gestures toward their surroundings, to absorb the scenery. In the fuss of the moment he was more concerned with the militant attention to himself and preparing for whatever altercation to come. Now he could see clearly, as the pressure to survive crept slowly from the forefront of his thoughts. This city was not subtle. It’s expanses dominated the landscape even from orbit. It was a thrumming war machine. The sound of droids and ships filled the ears, the smell of industry thickened the sandy air, and there was metal moving in every direction. It was like standing in the core of a puzzle as it the pieces shifted into place.

An alert on the data pad prompts Alkor to lead him onward, into the chamber of commerce. There were many unusual faces here, mostly given their species. Hevn takes note of how expansive this confederacy must be to see them here, working together. Politicians disgusted him. Not for their scheming, but their weakness. What they desired could be taken with the appropriate application of power. Yet they spent their lives in discussion, on their behinds, accomplishing nothing but erasing the work of their forefathers. A fundamental waste. A stagnant and archaic way of life, though far more would have those thoughts of a bruiser like Hevn.

[member="Darth Metus"] was waiting at a desk. It must have been to their fortune that an opportunity arises, as in his time as a governor he knew that the troubles of an empire never rested, and neither do their leaders. So this was [member="Alkor Centaris"] brother of new. In the short few tales that Alkor had relayed, this was a man of intelligence and strength. If he valued Alkor, he could likely find value in Hevn.

Hevn had grown accustomed to owning the space in which he occupied more often than not, and his arrogance often led him to impose that upon others. It was presumably given Metus’ relaxed position, that they were expected and welcome. His rigid gait takes a few sweeping strides before seating himself across from the Dark Lord. Rather casually, he loads a glass with ice cubes, and drowns them in the corellian whiskey. Alcohol didn’t do anything for his tense nature, but the burn of its flavor on his tongue was a craving he hadn’t entertained in some time. He raises the glass to the synthetic lips and lets a sip trickle over his prosthetic tongue. It hardly captures the flavor, and certainly did the liquor no justice. Yet still a mellow peace settled upon him he sets it down to face his host.

This was the second aura. Pushing back against the putrid flood of his force tendrils combing the city. Hevn’s aura was naturally aggressive. His indulgence in Sith artifacts and wielding them putrefying is body and soul far beyond any miracles of return. The very essence of darkness was woven throughout him, sewn delicately into the fabric of his existence. He and it are one. Hevn used to be an expert at concealing his presence, but in his evolution found it impossible to do short of a very powerful and taxing spell of concealment. It bled from him more obviously than most.

His icy blue eyes fix themselves on Metus. They glare aggressively from his otherwise pale and grey demeanor. It was time for introduction.

“I am Bedrovelse Hevn, the cause of this interruption, or reprieve, depending on your disposition for unannounced visitors. Alkor has spoken of your time together briefly. Perhaps some small portion of my reputation as a warrior or sorcerer proceeds me. Alkor is not easily impressed, and so I find his stock in you, intriguing. Enough so that I should like to see what it is you’re building towards, Darth Metus.”

 

[Alkor Centaris]

It was a rare day indeed when Alkor had occasion to freely interrupt Isley. His chosen duties predicated a greater need for him elsewhere much of the time, save for when he was needed for special tasks or as an advisor. It was such a special occasion, in fact, that [member="Darth Metus"] had broken out the Corellian Whiskey.

[member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] wasted no time indulging in the warm, inviting alcohol. Just like he had always been- gruff, direct, and unapologetic. Perhaps they had all been that way. Alkor never bothered to notice until those days were behind them. "The Vicelord of the Confederacy," Alkor began, "Darth Metus. And this is one of the Brothers I thought I had lost," he indicated Hevn with a slight motion of his elbow.

"Jen'jidai Bedrovelse Hevn, for all the worth that title has in these times." He never used it himself, but all the others had worn it with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Hevn had watched Reign put a katana through his belly. He wondered at how much the label carried after that. "I chanced upon him entering the system and thought to bring him directly to you. His talents are easily parallel to my own."

 

[Malok]

Familial bonds were not something taken lightly - or easily given.

Throughout his history as a Sith Lord, Darth Metus had been introduced to the midnight realm of ambition. Those born and molded by the Dark Side would so often fall victim to their own desires, to the point where cutting down all creation was the only way forward. If this meant severing bonds, so be it. If this meant genocide, so be it. Over time, however, the Sith himself observed a pattern that was cyclical. It mattered not how many times the Sith rose as a unified entity, it was always hubris and ambition ran rampant which was the source of their downfall. It was always in-fighting and one Lord deluding himself into thinking he could rule better that caused the Darkness to crumble. And as the pieces began to fall, the Light would snatch the final victory at the edge of the blade.

Thus, when Darth Metus ventured across the stars, a new vision burned within him. To create a world - a system - that would be everlasting. One that would satisfy his ambition, and the ambitions of those he chose to tutor and elevate, without the incessent need to fight one another. In doing so, he cradled the idea of democracy within his grasp and twisted it to his will. The end result was the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Now, the nation which had started from naught had grown into one of the most powerful entities in the Galaxy. And, moreover, the trend of sabers through the spine had ended. Ambition had been tamed, and true power had been amassed as a result.

Now, in the present, the Vicelord busied himself with maintaining the vision that he had cultivated. And key to this task was empowering those worthy enough to stand alongside him. As a result, one man who he truly trusted was elevated to Knight Commander of the Knights Obsidian. This man, a lifetime ago, had been Darth Metus' brother in arms in the Mandalorian battlefields. And had become his actual brother through rite of adoption. This man, [member="Alkor Centaris"], had earned the Sith's esteem completely. And as a result, when the man spoke of value - of talents - the Vicelord listened.

Thus, when the duo entered, they were met with the warmest welcome he could muster on such short notice. While seated within his seat, he regarded both the men with respectful nods, before reaching for his own beverage. the Idlewil burned upon his tongue as it descended, filling his core with the familiar warmth. All the while, Alkor's seemingly automaton companion introduced himself. What the Sith noticed first, of course, was the man's rampant presence in the Force. Darkness brimmed from the warrior like the radiance of a star - and thus, there was no question of the warrior's might. Conversely, for the ease of his subordinates, the Sith chose to conceal his might whilst in the office. Where [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] was an ocean of might, the Sith was but a trickling river.

Darth Metus held his peace until both had spoken before settling his glass down upon the table. "Well met." he began, offering a small smile. "Welcome to Geonosis, Jen'jidai. It has been...a lifetime since I have encountered one such as you. And Alkor, always a pleasure dear brother. You should interrupt me more often - these moments of sanity are fleeting. Now then."

He neatly tented his fingers and eased back into his seat. His sulfuric gaze met that of the Jen'jidai's intently. "What I am building here is change. A nation that will endure the test of time and the ambitions of those like us. A nation that has no fear of falling victim to the blade of the light, or the machinations of the dark. Here, I have created a world of true freedom - where one can embrace every facet of themselves and work towards the high calling of true freedom."

"And as my brother has seen fit to speak so highly of you, I would not hesitate to offer you a home here and a chance to stand alongside your comrade once again."

He then briefly shifted his gaze to his sibling. "Have you told him of the Knights Obsidian?"

[member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

There is an undeniable air of comfort between the two that reminded Hevn of his status as an estranged brother to Alkor, at best. The warm welcome was warmer than expected and drew Hevn’s attention to the startling fact that he was probably behaving himself like a deranged prison escapee. His brain was spinning at the prospect of this new era and his place in it. The truth was it that there was some comfort and relaxation in the idea of a home, however strange that home was to him for now. Hevn is a versatile man adept at molding to his surroundings. Whatever danger he thought to face was quietly evaporating the longer he was in the company of brotherhood.

As his intensity settles, his brain shifts gears from the prospect of struggle, to those of prosperity and opportunity. Hevn shared [member="Darth Metus"] vision of freedom. His execution of that vision had been liberty through anarchy. Destroying the fixtures of galactic control to weaken their grip on the galaxy as a whole, but it was in no effort of unification. Only to balance the scales of light and darkness so that he could traverse the galaxy without armies in pursuit of his heinous terrorism. For most of his time in the universe the powers that be struggled so desperately against one another for superiority they remained ignorant of those like Hevn who executed their will by more subtle means than open war.

Hevn raises his glass letting the whiskey trickle over his tongue again, digesting the words of the vice lord. Being chanced with finding Alkor again was nothing short of the will of the force. It seemed destiny would have them side by side against whatever threats the Confederacy faced. [member="Alkor Centaris"] and Hevn nearly came to blows on Muunilinst until they came to the realization they were fighting the same battle from different angles. His brother had shown him patience and consideration with his position, and raised his blade to help reclaim the treasures of their dead brethren without another issue. He would choose the same for Alkor. To stand beside him firmly in the face of whatever troubles it was that plagued the Knight Commander.

“Fighting alongside Alkor again is a prospect I most certainly relish. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, Vicelord. You will not be disappointed.”

As Darth Metus directed the question of the Knights to Alkor, he quietly ponders again how amusing it is to see his brother in such a station.

“If there is some help I can be of to you among the Knights Obsidian, I would not hesitate, Brother. It is long overdue that I fight for you as you have fought for me.”

The words were solemn and true. Once upon a time Hevn had carved the man’s arm up to seal an oath with the Dark Jedi that lasted a lifetime. Looking at him now, that lifetime had passed. Alkor has never once failed Hevn after that day, and had rallied to his battle cries long after any oaths were owed of anyone. He always honored the bonds which built them both, and they continued to live in succession of. It would seem now that he had the opportunity to return the favor.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Since Dominus Talon promoted me, free time has been even more scarce than before," Alkor laughed. [member="Darth Metus"] knew him better than that. Given the option, Alkor would never take a day to himself. His leave when he had been wounded at Eshan had been a show of force from Metus' own office.

"Only very briefly, and to explain my precarious position within the Confederacy," Alkor admitted, "the Galaxy has changed since last I saw Bedrovelse, and I wanted to get him apprised of the things that seemed most important. Now that we have found the time, I can elaborate more." He regarded [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] and folded his arms.

"The Confederacy's Military- the Defense Force- is diverse in that we have our own sub-group for Force Adepts," he began, "but unlike traditional Force Doctrines, the Knights Obsidian are loyal to the Confederacy, and act in the capacity of Security, Intelligence, and Special Operations. Additionally, the Knighthood not only accepts, but embraces the use of Cybernetics to augment the individual to perform at maximum efficiency."

He shifted his weight. "It's not like the Order was. There's no religion, no occult or mysticism; and its not about Dark or Light. Its..." he wondered his words for a moment, then chose decisively. "...home. The Knights Obsidian is a choice to protect our home."

He gestured to Metus. "If I missed anything, this is the man to ask. My superior officer reports directly to him."