Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private From the Deep, a Calling




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S E A R C H
Voph was on a mission. Not one that had been assigned to him, no. Not directly, anyways. Srina Talon Srina Talon had commanded that he build a lightsaber so as to properly begin his journey back to the formidable warrior he had once been. All the tools and resources of the Knights Obsidian were at his disposal. But certain pieces were missing. It did not seem right to build with such...sterile pieces. There was something out there. Something meant just for him. All he had to do was find it. But that was the trick, wasn't it?

Voph's gripped the control sticks of his ship and eased them downwards to begin his descent towards the planet below. A dark and foreboding place. A place he could only recall visiting once before. Perhaps it was this that brought him back. There was something here he was meant to find. Something that was essential to him. Even if he knew not how nor why. But he would find out soon enough. As his ship dipped towards the planet's surface, his radio crackled to life. "Unidentified craft, you are entering Vylmiran Airspace. Transmit identification codes immediately." Voph reached over to press the button that would transmit, only to find Horace already pecking at the button. He smirked to himself. The bird was proving quite useful after all.

Srina Talon Srina Talon had instructed Horace to travel with him since before his return. The creature had been fiercely loyal to the man once known as Voph. But the more he learned of who he once was, he was not sure that such a person was capable of existing any more. Voph made a mental note to thank Srina profusely. She'd hoped Horace would help him discover who he was. But at the time, neither of them knew just how literal this task would become. "Wrath. Welcome Home. Full clearance is granted. Tower out." Yet another name he did not feel he deserved. But it was one that opened doors. So who was he to judge?

The shuttle flew low over the city, then off into the wilds. Voph could both see and feel the devastation wrought upon this planet. What had once been a bastion to the Confederacy, and the bleeding edge of her technology, now lay in ruin. Soon the trees began to thin, as a mountain range came in to view on the horizon. It was not his goal, but it had once been his home. And as he flew over, he couldn't help but wonder if the woman he'd left it to still resided there. Voph soon brought the ship to rest in the midst of a snowfield north of the mountains. The air here was frigid, the vegetation minimal. They were close to the pole. They were also close to one of the oldest buildings on the planet. An old bastion of the Knights Obsidian, torn asunder by the Cataclysm.

The White-Gold Tower.

Voph knew not for what he quested. But he did know that it was to be found here...






 


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TAG: Kyyrk Kyyrk

"This area was once home to many of the Acanthus chapter, before the, er, incident," the tour guide of sorts went on, dancing around calling the incident by its name. Oleander's brow rose a fraction at that, returning to his stoic expression before his guide turned back to look at him. The Acanthus chapter had become a home of sorts out of convenience, a 'close enough' where the other chapters (save maybe Thorn) were even more ill-suited. This lack of connection and general desensitivity toward such an event that was being referenced meant the guide's attempt at maneuvering with care was unnecessary, though the Anzat wasn't planning on stopping them. If they thought he was still reeling from a great tragedy, they were less prone to ask questions.

And while Oleander himself wasn't reeling from the tragedy, the Knights Obsidian as a whole were. Countless lives, from what Oleander understood, had been lost to the Cataclysm. It'd worked out in his favor - a freshly awoken assassin with no ties or assets behind but had an impressive resume if you minded the gap. And suddenly a lot of vacancies to be filled. Part of the vacancies that needed filling was picking up after what was left behind and, more importantly, making sure a Cataclysm wouldn't happen again. For that reason, Oleander now toured Vylmira, a datapad in hand and instructions to make note of anything interesting.

That was part of this mission, at least. From what he heard, a certain someone would be making their way to the planet shortly. Srina Talon Srina Talon , again from Oleander's understanding, had held reservations about leaving her current apprentice on his own. Add expressing that to Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner and cue Death incarnate getting caught in the intricacies of delegation. Not how he'd wanted to spend his day, though it wasn't much better or worse then pouring over possessions left behind.

Oleander was silent for several long moments, the guide even pausing to ensure he was still following as the knight's mind wandered elsewhere, reacting to the ever-shifting aspects of the waking world. While the wandering mind wasn't enough to establish a communication or know for sure where one was, at least not from that sort of distance, it gave him just the right amount of hint. Inventory was done, at least for now.

"Now, this room especially we haven't touch-"

"-Yeah, that's great. Continue to do so. We'll pick this up later." He slid past the guide, ignoring any additional protests as he slinked off to the landing platform, his boots offering only the slightest of sounds against pavement. There he stood. Watching, waving, analyzing.


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A R R I V A L
The landing platform was so buried in rubble and debris, Voph had to land on snow and ice some meters away. The lone figure of Oleander stood out among the fallen stone and metal, though. As Voph trudged through the snow with Horace on his shoulder, he looked South towards the pole. A storm was kicking up. Not a bad one, but a storm all the same. Voph had not changed from his now-signature white armor. Though he did travel without a helmet this time around. He strode towards the Assassin, not bothering with a greeting. He somehow suspected the Assassin shared his same aversion to social niceties.

"Wasn't expecting you here. And I thought the Knights had all but abandoned this place." Voph stopped and offered a hand of greeting. Some social niceties would still be observed. "Don't think we've officially met. Iskellion, apprentice to Exarch Talon." Voph glanced towards the brewing storm as Horace took to the sky. It would pass west of them, doing little more than sending moderate winds and snowfall. "What business does the Wolf find important enough to send his right hand to oversee?"






 


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TAG: Kyyrk Kyyrk

Oleander was a figure shrouded in black among the snow-dusted rubble. A hooded mantle did well to keep his upper half relatively shielded from the elements for his own person did not give off heat of its own. As he approached the landing site, he tucked away his datapad, hands then retreating to the warmth of pockets. There was a slight relief to be found in being approached by the other right off the bat. It was certainly more ideal than having to chance the apprentice down.

"The Knights might've but someone has to keep track of what's left. Fortunately for them, I'm not so moved by loss," he answered, grasping the taller man's offered hand in a short greeting. They'd shared a space twice at least, perhaps more though Oleander had a sneaking suspicion there was something more to that. He wasn't sent to watch over regular apprentices no matter who they were a learner to. "We haven't, no. Oleander, Knight of the Acanthus chapter." He didn't bother with fancy titles or his relation to others within the Confederacy, mostly as he didn't have a set title to put towards whatever working relationships he'd developed, at least not to his knowledge.

A brow rose a fraction with Iskellion's question. "Is that what I'm called then? I wasn't aware I'd earned such a position." He gestured toward the wreckage he'd left from. "Taking stock of what was left behind here, be it clues towards how to prevent further tragedies of this nature or anything else too dangerous for public discovery." Best to leave out the bit about keeping tabs on the apprentice. "And what of you? What's your intention here?"


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A R R I V A L
Voph paused, surveying the scene around them. "I don't know." He looked back at Oleander, his eyes squinting in the harsh arctic light. "There's something here I'm looking for. But I don't know what it is." His eyes roamed over the figure before him for a second, as if assessing something. "Acanthus didn't keep many trinkets here, as I recall. Most of them were in North Tower, on the far side of the planet." His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, almost as if he was suspicious of Oleander. But it quickly disappeared. Voph lurched into motion, patting Oleander's shoulder as he walked past him towards the rubble.

"And yes, that is what you're known as. Not an official title, of course, but we've noticed you only travel to the places Gerwald has taken a...personal interest in." Voph paused at the entrance, looking around at the rubble. Something here had to speak to him. It had to. But for now, nothing looked familiar. He raised his hand, and brushed snow off a small plaque that hung near the archway. White-Gold Tower, Built in opposition to the Sith Tyrants. That was all it said. But as he laid his hand upon it, another memory filled his mind. The day of Vylmira's downfall. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath to clear his mind. He knew not his true involvement, but knew that he was involved in it some how. A sin that would catch up to him. Sooner or later.

"Tell me, Oleander." Voph turned and looked back at the assassin. "If you had once resided in this tower and hidden something that you never wished to find again, where would you hide it?"






 


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TAG: Kyyrk Kyyrk

Oleander's cool gaze didn't falter under apparent scrutiny. He'd told no lie, after all. He'd simply omitted an unnecessary side fact and keeping secrets was quite high on his list of professional priorities. Part of the territory of being a dealer in death. "And I'm sure I'll be over there, too, so long as the assignment stands," he answered with even tone, head turning before the rest of his body as Iskellion moved past.

A brief chuckle caught in his throat. "I go where the Lord Commander assigns, certainly. Though, I'd assumed it was more out of need for my particular skill set. As I assume Exarch Talon does with you, no?" It'd been a long time since Oleander was a student at least in name. It felt like decades though carbonite had seen to that skewered perception of time. Centuries was perhaps the more accurate measurement.

Now that was an interesting question. Nor was it the first time someone had posed such cryptic questions to the Anzat. Come to think of it, the being who'd last asked such questions was eerily similar to the Iskellion before him. One with sight, the other significantly more powerful. Or perhaps the two were one in the same, just different now. Something to look into, later, though Oleander did stare at this Iskellion for several moments before answering his question. "That would depend, I think, if I meant to hide it from all eyes or merely my own. The former, I'd give it to someone else to hide. The former, though...Somewhere mundane, perhaps? Hidden in plain sight, at least partially."


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T O W E R
Voph dipped his head to the side in acknowledgement of Oleander's point. Srina did often send him on the occasional task on her behalf. "You speak the truth. On both counts." Voph's fingers drummed the plaque as he wracked his mind for places within the tower someone may have hidden something. "So where, then, would an item remain to be found..." He mused out loud, but was clearly talking to himself. He sighed quietly, shifting to peer through the archway to the temple within.

"As the right hand of the wolf, I expect that you will be set upon this same mission sooner or later. If the Exarch has taken an interest in it, I imagine so will he, if only for the sake of duty." Voph drummed his fingers on the plaque at an increasing tempo. He was agitated about something, and clearly trying to convince himself that something was a good idea. Oleander was the right hand of Gerwald. Where one was, the other was soon to be. If Gerwald trusted him... Voph supposed that was good enough. "I'm also going to assume that you know something you're pretending you don't. We'll not discuss specifics in the cold, but I'm looking for anything left behind by the Former Lord Commander. Anything that might have given us a clue as to why he left. Or, if the fates align, what happened to him." He wasn't going to explicitly state it, but he wouldn't deny it either. Voph was going to have to reveal himself sooner or later. Shouldn't hurt if the most trusted of his most trusted was aware of the truth of the matter, right?






 


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TAG: Kyyrk Kyyrk

Now that was a familiar speech pattern, too. Not a threat nor challenge, this time, but similar enough to invoke interest once more and, perhaps more importantly, further solidify the theory that was starting to form. "I know a lot of things," he answered slowly, moving to follow the apprentice though he still kept his distance. "It comes with the territory of one of my nature." Be it as an Anzat or his occupation he was referring to, he intentionally left it open-ended. "So yes you will have to be more specific, out of the cold, of course."

The former Lord Commander had advised against trying to make him into the next meal, once. In the moment, Oleander had half taken it as a challenge. Not as something to actually carry out, no. He was still new to the Confederacy at the time. And while he was confident in his abilities as a hunter, he was fairly certain there'd be no endgame if such an attempt had succeeded. Still, the vague question of 'could I do it, if I wanted?' was enough to set the hunter's instincts on alert, interested in acting on the challenge.

"He was searching for penance, if I remember correctly, no? He said as such once, at least." Oleander shrugged, a hand moving from the safety of his pockets to brush snow away from hair that hung just a bit close to his eyes before quickly retreating back to warmth. "Might do well to start at the site of his apparent failure. Start from ground zero and move on."


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T O W E R
Voph paused in the archway as the assassin mentioned penance. "I...yes, perhaps he was." He did not pause long, musing on it for only a moment before rousting himself to venture deeper into the tower. "We had best start at the Lord Commander's office, yes? For he was the Lord Vizier before his appointment to Lord Commander, was he not?" Voph led the path through the rubble, having to stoop down through some of the collapsed portions. Voph was silent for much of the trek, but as they drew near to the central spire, he began to speak.

"I am sorry that you were stuck with this duty. Were it to me, you would have been given a more thrilling assignment." Voph knew. He knew Oleander was sent here to watch him. it was the only explanation that made sense. Even now, Voph could clearly tell the man was an Anzat. And a familiar one at that. He was an assassin and fighter. Sifting through rubble was not his place. "Iskellion, as you may have determined for yourself, is but a codename. The insistence of Exarch Talon. But if you're who she chose to keep an eye on me, that means you can be trusted." Voph paused by the doorway into the stairs. "I'll admit I do not remember our first meeting, but I do know that we have spoken before. Yes, there's a reason I've taken such a vested interest in Voph. Yes, it's for the reason you think."






 


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TAG: Kyyrk Kyyrk

Oleander paid no mind to the other's pause, save for ensuring he didn't run into the taller male. Though at Iskellion's suggestions, he offered an indifferent shrug. "He was before my time in the knights. What he was means little to me." Voph could've been a Sith Empereror, once, and Oleander would reap him the same he did a farmer, if that was his fate. The knight moved along the wreckage with a silent grace. A hand reached out, calling an item from the wreckage to him. His nose scrunched as dust particles floated up as the item was disturbed. He paused a moment, tensing for a sneeze yet nothing came of it. Or rather, nothing came from it until he was certain he was safe. Then, of course, his head jerked violently, overtaken by the sneeze.

"Could be worse. I'd rather be on the field than sifting through archives," he answered slowly, somewhat suspicious of one who'd assume his taste in missions. His suspicion was not unfounded, with Iskellion continuing on with his explanation and calling Oleander out on his own mission. Getting confirmation he was talking to an individual almost right after he said he didn't care who the person once was. Nice. Not an awkward moment at all. "Keeping an eye on you was only half of my purpose. I was already headed this way when your Exarch decided you'd be best left observed.
I take it memory in general is delicate for you, then.
" And as with their first meeting, Oleander was uniquely suited to accessing memories, though not in a way the other would enjoy. Nor was he entirely certain he could access what was lost, depending on how that happened. "So what are you hoping to find here, specifically, then? Enlightenment? A weapon left behind?"

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T O W E R
Voph frowned at this. Clearly the assassin had better things he could be doing. How a creature of such indifference had become Gerwald's right hand, Voph dread to consider. "Good question. I don't know what I expect to find here." Voph turned and continued to pick through the wreckage, easing towards the administrative wing of the tower. "The Force showed me that something is here. Something that I will need. And somehow I don't think it's you." The humor was as dry as Tatooine in the heat of the day.

Voph continued in silence until he arrived at the door to his old office. A cautious step or two was taken within, then he pulled a glowstick from his belt. The power grid hadn't worked in some time, and the internal room offered little natural light. "You wouldn't happen to know what relics were recovered from this room, would you?" Voph stepped over to the desk in the center of the room, and ran a hand over it to brush the dust off. He somehow suspected that he knew the answer to the question. The desk did not have any chairs around it, suggesting that they were destroyed in the fight. Voph remained leaning against his arm, and turned to survey the room slowly. There had to be something here, right?






 


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TAG: Kyyrk Kyyrk

"If it was me, you'd truly be doomed." He said with a chuckle, following Iskellion among the wreckage. He was a neutral entity, an incarnation of death itself roaming among the living.

"Uhh hold up," he pulled out the datapad once more, exiting out of the previous document and trying to access previous files. Whoever had been here last had done a hasty job at inventory, focusing only on areas of the highest priority. Essentially what Oleander had planned to do himself once he'd been left alone, though perhaps with just a tad more of a broadened search field. You never knew what others tried to hide in their supposedly private quarters.

"There was a list made shortly after the incident." Classified files. Unsurprising. His brow furrowed in annoyance as he typed in what should've been the password once, twice, three times before getting it right. "Take a look, see if anything sticks out to you."


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