Field Work {CIS | Knights Obsidian}

[Absalon Diljar]

Knights Obsidian - "Field Work"​

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Location: "Glass Point", Lok​

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This planet is a wretched hole. Always was, always will be. Lok is a barren, dusty planet in the Outer Rim. Sulfur pools, lifeless rivers, and volcanoes are among the enthusiastic offers this rock can make any trespasser. But apparently, not anybody has this conviction. A signal had been sent from the planet, merely a few hours ago. This signal was, however, heavily encrypted, in a way that only highly sensitive military information was. Causing it to take the interest of the CIS, sending it through the chain of command to the Knights Obsidian.​

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Upon finishing decryption, an audio message (although glitchy and under the suffering of bad reception) could be heard. The voice seemed to come from a young man. Slightly hoarse and exhausted.​

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"Ahem... well, if you're hearing this, it means two things: My beacon is currently working. And more importantly: You are the kind of people that I want to talk with, judging by your ability to crack this encryption. My name is Absalon Diljar. Archeologist. And I am calling you on the grounds of a major discovery. The Vault of the late Darth Vixal has been found, and I have the means to unlock it. Beyond the door to it, lies boundless knowledge from the days of this buried tyrant. However, there are... complications. I have run out of food, water and medical supplies. I will not make it back to my ship, much less so with whatever is in this Vault. I have also made a series of enemies on my little quest, who has the same goal as I, but with much less proper intentions. I am willing to share the knowledge and possible power this Vault brings, if I get the protection and supplies I need to study the galaxy another day. The coordinates are attached to this message. If you get this, I hope to see you at your earliest convenience."​

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On Lok, these coordinates would lead to a valley, in which several cavern openings were visible. Ancient inscriptions on the mountain walls, tell obscure tales of a people forgotten to time. It was past Midday, the sun casting a shadow over half of the valley.​

 

[Absalon Diljar]

(( [member="Alkor Centaris"] ))

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Initiates fanned out of the ETA class shuttle Vespulon ahead of Alkor, taking up positions around the landing site as he made his way down the landing ramp. It was a new feeling to be flanked by a cadre of guards at all times but [member="Elessar Talon"] had been adamant that some of their newest blood needed to see the Knight Commander in action. How he handled himself, how he moved, how he spoke- all of the minutia that made up a Knight Obsidian, Alkor now had to personify. It was as much a test for him as it was a chance to teach.

They stood at attention until the moment he gestured for them to relax, and the collective sigh blew over him like a soft breeze. Tension about the reported findings had made selections for this assignment particularly agonizing. Each of these Knights was hand-picked by their respective officer for exemplary work. Each of them was equally driven to make a good impression. Every one of them was on edge. Alkor felt like looking at one of them was enough to make them shatter.

"The coordinates we've been given say the vault is located in the valley to the east of us," he began. "We are to approach with caution. Preliminary background checks on the name and occupation of the person who hailed us have confirmed their Identity, but we have no way of knowing if they have cause to lead us into a trap or worse."

He locked eyes with a younger Miriian female, who gulped down under the weight of his attention. She broke eye contact hastily. "You," he indicated her by stopping directly in front of her, "Pathfinder Ballan, please scout ahead and report back about any unexpected entities. Our scans have shown nothing, but that does not mean there is nothing to find."

"Yes, sir," she replied rigidly, and hurriedly went about her duty. Good. If I give them tasks, it will ease some of their anxiety.

"Archivist Dovan," he turned to the youth who had been charged with possibly the most stressful job of them all. He met Alkor's gaze timidly. "Are you prepared to decipher the code, or will you need more time?" he asked.

"I should be ready, sir," Dovan responded. "It may take me some time, but I have the resources based on local languages and both High Sith and the more primitive dialect."

"Excellent. I will make my report to the Dominus and then move forward to meet this Archaeologist. [member="Áine"], collect the supplies and rations requested and deliver them to the encampment ahead of me," he told the newest Knight, who had been assigned to this detail less on merit and more because it seemed most fitting. "Prepare him for my arrival. I will require a briefing on the situation from you, so be sure to ask any relevant questions you can think of."

[member="Absalon Diljar"]

 

[Absalon Diljar]

The scout wouldn't find a soul in the valley itself. Each cavern, however, was blocked by what seemed to be some form of gate. It was made of a metal that was colored chromatic silver. It looked exotic, but old from where one would stand, should one stay in the valley. Old stairs of sandstone would make irregular pathways up to most of the caverns, while others were left suspended in the wall without any proper way of reaching them. What looked to be tribal patterns were engraved into the metal of each gate, along with a round panel that looked like some sort of port, waiting for input. Should the scout be sensitive to the force, she would feel a low chime in the back of her left ear, each time she approached within 20 meters of a gate, getting louder by each step. If she would approach within 10 meters, it would sound similar to a case of tinnitus, and within 5 meters, it would actually hurt and threaten to cause damage to her ear.

There was one of the larger gates, in the valley however, suspended 5 meters in the air, leading into the wall that were cleaned from dust. Suggesting that it had been used fairly recently.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Áine]

[member=Absalon Diljar] | [member=Alkor Centaris]​

Lok wasn't a particularly impressive planet. In fact, the crimson haired maiden would have gone so far as to say it was perhaps the most boring one she had laid eyes on, and she came from a desolate moon too far away from the sun to know it's warm embrace. Still, there was a reason they had been called out today. What little they had managed to decipher from the encoded message had been playing over and over in her mind. The prospects were interesting, as were the hints he had made toward the major discovery there. All in all it seemed the best place for someone new to the ranks to start off. Simple enough, but with an air of mystery that would have attracted the most uninterested of minds. If she was honest with herself there was a little pride at the fact that she was chosen for the mission, but she wouldn't let it show. What she would do was make this a chance to prove her worth, prove it beyond the small circle of peers she had made since joining the group. This was the perfect opportunity.

Áine was the first off the ship behind Alkor. As the others fanned out to scan the area she stood patiently to wait for her task. Out on the planets surface the atmosphere was humid and dusty, not a particularly pleasant place to be but they weren't here for the sights. Her ears perked up at the sound of her name, her willow frame instantly snapped to attention. 'Yes, Sir.' Her melodic tone was less rigid then her companions, but then again she was less nervous. When you were half a millennia old it was hard to feel nervous about anything at all really. Áine, doing as she was told, turned on her heel to face the crates of supplies they had gathered for whoever had sent the message. There wasn't a chance in hell she would have been able to carry them without the use of the force. A flick of her wrist saw the heavy supply crates free themselves of their weight to float subserviently behind her. With her orders still ringing her ears, the slender woman broke off from the group and headed away in the direction of the lost soul.

From their landing spot to the valley, it wasn't too far a walk. Áine had actually enjoyed it, especially considering the sun was beating down an age old rhythm that warmed her to her bones. The valley itself was an impressive structure carved by time into the sandy rocks with wild twisting caverns that broke off from the main corridor. Each was covered in a gate made from silver metal that caught the bright rays of sun and blinded Áine whenever she looked too close. The most interesting thing about it all was the soft hum that had buzzed in the back of her head the moment she had stepped up the sandstone steps that lead into the valley. Ordinarily she would have taken the time out to explore properly, but she had a job to do. Her quick green eyes scanned over each gate looking for signs of life. Dark tendrils of force lashed out from her sculpted frame to seek out a heartbeat, a thought, anything that indicated another life form was there.

Finally, her gaze came to rest on one of the gates. Something, whatever it was, was projecting a powerful presence. Áine didn't need telling twice. That was her goal. As she made her way up to the silvery blockade that prevented her from reaching the winding maze of caves instead, something brought her to a dead halt. A piercing sound ripped through her ears, so sharp she was forced to bring her hands to her head. Nothing seemed to stop it though, and she lost focus on the grip she had placed on the supply crates. They came crashing down to the rocky ground in an instant, sending loud booming echos across the valley likely alerting anyone who had ears to listen of her presence.

 

[Absalon Diljar]

This wasn't Absalon's first emergency transmission. It was however, the first he had been prepared to make. But not without cost to his pride. He had calculated the rations he had, down to every last drop of water, and every last breadcrumb. The Miraluka normally never make oversights on this, but there had been... complications. The Vault door had a three-part intersequenced lock system, that required perfect timing to unlock. His first try was... unfortunate. The gas had made him insatiably hungry, forcing him to burn through the next week's worth of rations. Not to mention the amount of energy he had spent on shutting that trap again. Perhaps less than someone else would face, but this journey had not been for the faint of heart. Using the torch he had lit, he tried to control his ragged breathing.

Shaking his light tunic, his jacket hanging from his shoulders, the rocky ground cracked beneath his feet, as he made his way towards the maze of caverns of Darth Vixal. He had felt a new presence... well, several actually. A whole group had arrived to greet him, or so he believed. It restored some of his pride that someone was this interested in his discoveries. What he had seen in there, was nothing short of fantastic. Absalon could still feel it, the vast sea of stored raw force energy surging inside him, from when he touched the vault door. It felt amazing, and it still make him chuckle in glee to himself.

One of the auras he had begun sensing would be right outside the gate he had used, and the tribal patterns engraved into it would begin to glow ice blue as he came closer. The chime in his left ear had been blocked out, ever since he convinced it that he was of Sith origin. It only took a ring from one of his previous ventures. Now, he can see everything. The gears, wires, powersources, mechanics... he could see it all, inside the door, as clear as the force itself. It was so beautifully complicated, he had spent an entire 3 hours writing down a similar design for testing on his own ship. Allowing his lips to fabricate a light smirk, he extended out his hands. The gate would emit a series of metallic clanks and clicks as his fingers manipulated the port on the other side of it. Then, with an ominous ionic thoom it would open. The lad wouldn't be bothered by the light, as his kind saw none of that. He merely felt the heat, but suddenly lifted a brow, feeling the presence of [member="Áine"] in front of him. His vision then focused on the dropped supply crate, and finally the rest of those who had come to the valley. He took a deep breath, addressing the lass in front of him. He waved a tired hand, disabling the piercing sound that came from the port of the now-opened gate he had stepped out of.

"4 hours, 53 minutes and 27 seconds... you people work fast." He remarked, swaying his head. His body was like a super-charged force battery, emitting constant influxes of activity, interacting with its environment. Absalon swayed his head just a bit, taking in the vicinity.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Yes, Dominus." Alkor finished the report with a swift salute, arm across the chest in the Obsidian fashion. Everyone had cleared out of the area, so when the holographic image of his superior officer dissipated, the Knight was alone. He glanced down at his chrono, acutely aware of the allotted response time for this mission. "The new recruit should be approaching the rendezvous any time," he murmured to himself as he began his march toward the valley.

He was aware of a distortion before he came into the scope of its effect. Such was the nature of his Force Sense- the migraine headache threatened the frontal lobe of his brain, and he closed his eyes and kneaded both temples. What sort of distortion was it? What was the nature of this anomaly? Questions he could find answers for in time.

For now, he exhaled. His mind slowly filled up, like water flooding inward to a reservoir with a broken dam. As information clouded his innermost thoughts, the Force dulled and was rebuffed. In exchange for cutting himself off, he was granted a reprieve from the feedback, which only seemed to grow into a stinging pain in his eardrum.

Whatever it was, it was more than a mental assault. Alkor's lips turned downward in a frown. "I'd rather not force the men to remain here too long, if at all possible," he tapped in a few commands on his datapad and sent the orders off. "Take frequent breaks. No overexposure to the phenomenon."

He was still several yards out yet, monitoring the goings on of all his men. In particular, he watched [member="Áine"] as she approached the door. Moments passed, and he caught sight of [member="Absalon Diljar"] just beyond. Was this the one who had put out the call?

For now, he'd simply watch, listen, and wait.

 

[Áine]

[member=Absalon Diljar] | [member=Alkor Centaris]​

It took a painful age for movement of any kind to come from behind the shimmering gate. Her hearing being blasted by the horrifying noise that ripped through her, she entirely missed the mechanical clicks and whirrs it made as the mechanisms sprung to life. In fact, Áine was only aware that the gate was even being opened until it swung smoothly on silver hinges. What caught her attention most of all was the way it emitted a light with a colour so bright she could mistaken the source as synthetic. Creeping into view, her emerald green eyes made out the shadow of a man that grew clearer the more the gate parted. The crimson haired woman forced her lithe frame to stand straight, though her hands persisted in covering her ears as though they could protect them from the noise.

Sweet relief washed over her face as the screeching sound disappeared into the humid air. A sigh that expressed it followed, coupled with a minor readjustment to the crimson locks that tumbled down her face. When all had settled again Áine finally drank in the source of the voice. 'I suppose you're the one who sent out the distress call? Absalon, is it?' His voice sounded like the one she had heard in the glitched out transmission. All things considered it seemed a silly question. Who else would be out here on this desolate waste of a planet all alone? Silly questions aside, she thought an introduction might perhaps be in order. 'My name is Áine, I'm with the Knights Obsidian. The Confederacy heard your distress signal and decided to help.' Now free of the piercing sound that had knocked her concentration, Áine flicked her wrist to command the supply crates closer. As they danced a path through the air to the space between them, the crimson haired woman offered him a warm smile that looked entirely natural on her pale face. He wouldn't see it, of course, but the gesture was plain in her sweet tone as she spoke. 'These are for you.'

The porcelain woman didn't wait for him to start inspecting them, everything was there just as he had requested. Instead, she turned her attention to the silvery gates that had once blocked her path, and she suspected they were perhaps the source of the noise too. 'Your signal mentioned enemies...' Though her curious mind was crying out to ask about the gates and the vault, she knew they could get nothing else done until any potential threats were handled. 'Can you give me more information? My Commander will be along shortly, he'd be pleased to know if we're expecting a fight any time soon.' The tip of her finger traced along the lines that had once glowed a neon blue, bright enough to make her raise her eyes against the deafening screech that once hounded her ears. 'And then after, perhaps you could tell me that this is all about?' As she asked her question both her arms gestured into the air, indicating that by this she meant the entire situation, though it quickly dawned on her that she had no idea how much the man could see.

'I mean, what are all these markings? What kind of knowledge do you expect to find hidden in this vault you mentioned? And why do you assume it's worthy enough to risk your life and ours for it?' In truth, the barrage of questions was just as much for her own distraction as it was for the orders the Knight Commander had given her. Áine still felt unease at the forces at work in the valley, and she still felt more than a little tender from the pitched notes that had pounded against her ear drums moments before. Prodding him for information kept her mind focused and conveniently covered the task she was sent to accomplish in the first place.

 

[Absalon Diljar]

[member="Áine"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

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The Miraluka archeologist breathed in the arid air, and let it go again in a calm exhale. Tilting his head at the approaching crimson-haired woman. "Yes. Absalon Diljar, at your service..." He exclaimed. Keeping a welcoming kind smile on his face, he listened to her introducing herself and the people she had brought. Nodding as the crates flew in-between them, he nodded. "A pleasure, Áine." It would appear that he was discouraged from talking much more, as the woman started rapid-firing questions off. He didn't look to be intimidated by this fact, though. The archeologist had expected a need for answers from his 'saviors'. Listening carefully and patiently to each question, he traced a hand over one of the supply crates.

When Áine was finally done talking, he took a minute to think of his answers. Then, he took a breath and opened his mouth.

"It is true that I have enemies. And they are dangerous... in the context of me being on my own with no supplies. But this state of mine has changed within the last few minutes, I believe." He said, gesturing to the Knights forces in the valley. He swayed his head. "That being said, casualties are understandably best preferred minimized. And if there are any 'guardians' or contraptions we must face, when entering the Vault, then I am currently deprived of that knowledge."

Diljar paused, turning around to walk over to the port at the now-opened gate. He raised a hand, and machinery started wiring and clicking inside it. "In terms of why we're here... Darth Vixal was never a well-known figure for a Sith. He ran an underground information and artifact network for almost a century. Eventually, when it became clear that he would have to kick the bucket... he chose a place to hide his most prized possessions."

He turned to Áine again, and he snapped his fingers. The port would emit a beep, and show a holographic picture of the entire net of caverns and tunnels. It was a giant maze, that was confusing and convoluted to even look at. At least two dozen dead ends, with only one pathway seeming to lead down to some sort of larger compound by the end of the map on the lowest level. "Darth Vixal's Vault has been a recurring theme among many circles of treasure hunters. Saying to sport valuable information about the force and a collection of powerful artifacts. Furthermore, he also collected designs for many military assets. Some he stole from other factions at the time of his reign... and some, he made himself. Who knows what value these findings will give for any person... or faction... who finds them."

Absalon snapped his fingers again, the map closing. "Regarding the scriptures on the valley walls, I also saw several in these tunnels. They are written in Catharese, Galactic Basic, Smuggler's Cant, High Sith and Hutteese. I cannot be entirely certain of their origin, but my working theory is that I was obviously not the first to find this place... there were settlers beforehand. This place is strong with the force... too strong in fact, for some who do not have the gift of suppressing its lure."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The thick air that frayed his senses seemed to abate after several moments, almost as if bidden by an unseen source. He felt a weight lifted from his shoulders and exhaled softly, even as he watched the interaction between [member="Áine"] and someone else, just beyond view.

It was time for him to join in, he reckoned. The opportunity to watch an initiate work was always welcome, but when the mission itself called for his own action, being readily available was also imperative. He took the steps to close the distance and stepped into view, just behind the junior Knight. She could still keep the lead on talking, for now. Being here was his directive, keeping tabs, taking notes, gleaning information.

Direct action on his part ought to be kept to a minimum. That gave the others a chance to get time doing field work, and when he did put hands on, they got a chance to watch how he handled things. He had the feeling that time would come soon enough.

He watched as the labyrinthine holographic image panned out and turned his attention to the researcher, [member="Absalon Diljar"] as he explained things in more detail. Where there were Sith artefacts and knowledge, there were almost always traps and danger. Lack of information about what those entailed only meant danger for the collective of them.

When the map closed, he folded his arms. "And you are prepared to cede these secrets to the Southern Systems?" he asked. They had sent a contingent to his assistance, but it seemed like there was much to be gained from this venture. It was hard to swallow for any scientist that they might have to give up credit for their findings. It smacked of desperation. "Please, give us an idea of the entire situation if you would."

 

[Absalon Diljar]

Diljar would tilt his head, as he felt the presence of Alkor approaching their station. Not letting himself intimidate, he kept on explaining the situation to [member="Áine"] while his lips moved. Sighing as he now fell silent while the man was talking, he nodded in affirmation as he was urged to continue is assessment. "The door into the vault of Darth Vixal itself is a complex inter-built lock system. It is designed exclusively for the convenience of high Sith society, and is therefore only unlockable by those sensitive with the force."

This day has been interesting to say the least. But he needed to get these folks to work with him before those after him came and made.. complications. Pondering for a moment before continuing, he swayed his head again, the sound of an echoey heart-beat being heard in the left ear of each force sensitive in the area. Scratching the back of his messy hair, he'd continue. "Besides needing supplies and protection, this door is also the reason why I decided that a call for help was in order. These locks are very powerfully built, and they require a combined effort of..." He made some mental calculations. "Two to three trained force sensitives to get the door open."

Addressing the other of the urgent question, he rolled his shoulders. "I care little about my credibility in terms of my role in the scientific community as a large. But, due to past... complications... I no longer think I can work reliably as an independent entity. Your organization intrigue me, so I suppose that you can humor my donation of this vault with recruiting me?"

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Over thousands of years, different people came and went from places in the Galaxy and often left marks they had no intention of leaving. Their imprint- or echo, depending on which school of thought you followed in Force Philosophy- was like a call code. If you knew what you were looking for, you had a relatively decent idea of how to find it. That was a Sense Specialist's forté. It was Centaris' lifeblood. When he glanced at the visible portion of the mechanism, and at the door if sank into, he could only wash over the surface level with his senses.

There were wards in place. Layered wards intended to keep out even the most curious Sensitive. The ringing pain earlier could be attributed to that. [member="Absalon Diljar"] had managed to break one of the myriad mechanisms down, but that was where his expertise seemed to end. It prompted another, more serious question. "If we were to take you on, it sounds to me like you have garnered some unwanted attention in your free time. What guarantee do I have that you won't bring that upon the Confederacy?"

He stepped forward and his fingers traced the wall. It wasn't a matter of yes or no, realistically.if the man wanted to join the Knights, Alkor was not going to say no. The question would come later, was he cut out for it? Would he rise through the ranks and make a name for himself?

Perhaps.

Finally, Alkor added. "I can get your foot in the door, but whether you stick around is yours decide."