I'm The Night

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Vrag"]​

‘In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is a King.’ it was a quote, a sentence from a bygone era and just like that it popped up in Irani’s head as he awaited the preliminary test results of this new project. He wasn’t entirely too sure why the quote decided to get stuck in his head, it didn’t seem to have any relevance to the subject at hand nor did it have any insights to offer for the situation currently enfolding. But that was the way of things when you were handling esoteric arts, magics did not offer you exactly what you wanted, most of the time it was pure hindsight that would make you facepalm and say: ‘Oh, is that what they meant?’

The project at hand was a true doozy, it would revolutionize the way products were manufactured - at least that was the entire idea, if it would actually be reasonable and manageable… that remained to be seen. There were several issues that needed to be resolved, before it could get that far though. Location; that one seemed simple enough, but boy… was that an illusion for ya. Technology; they had the concept, but there were still kinks to correct and numbers to crunch. There was more, but that was the basic jist for the moment and it would have to do.

Technology could be solved though, maybe not easily, but do-able in the grand scheme of things. Irani was a collector, or rather Carach was one, and through access to the literal horde of treasure accumulated over the years there was one distinct ‘artifact’ that gave him an advantage in the quest to come. Darth Revan’s Mask. It had once been in the possession of an illustrious Sith Lord, though illustrious was a bit too kind considering his name was already forgotten by the writer, in a duel it was lost to another man; who in turn also lost it to the tides of time, that was about when Carach stepped in- then still known as Ovmar and bought the artifact on an auction.

History lessons aside, the mask contained knowledge within it. During the time that Revan had been a Sith Lord he had almost never parted with the mask, instead opting to wear it as a reminder of the sacrifices made and the sacrifices that would need to be made in the future, an attitude that worked for Irani’s benefit right now. It was this knowledge that allowed the businessman to have some inside info on the workings on various… subjects that would be of use for them later on.

Still waiting on those test results he finally tapped a few buttons on his datapad and send invites to three specific individuals. Xiangu, Ardik and Vrag. Three Sith Lords of power, who would probably be very interested in this little venture. He hadn’t played around with Matsu for a while now, was about time that this changed; Ardik had always loved the more ingenious ways of earning capital ships full with credits and Vrag… well… the Beast relished a good old fashion slaughterhouse.

They wouldn’t be disappointed in this little adventure.

 

[Vrag]

When the screen of her datapad lightened up with a new message, Vrag was elbows deep in some poor sod, working on broadening the horizons of her torture repertoire. Needless to say, the woman didn't exactly rush to see what [member="Darell Irani"] had to say even though she looked forward to his messages most of the time; she liked keeping her gadgets relatively gore-free, and her hands would certainly take some cleaning before she'd be touching anything that wasn't twitching humanoid bodies.

After finishing her session in the dungeons of Prakith and taking a long, hot shower, the firrerreo finally deigned to open the invitation, her eyebrows quirking at its contents. At best, the woman had been expecting to find an elegantly-worded booty call — since that was essentially the extent of their relationship — but instead she found herself reading an elegantly-worded call to booty; you know, the riches and resources kind.

The proposition contained within seemed lucrative enough to pique her curiosity, and it would be interesting to see how the man operated outside of the battlefield. With practiced movements, the Sith would put on her Vonduun crab armor — ever the careful and wary individual — then arm her person with a colorful array of people-hurting devices and grab a vessel off of the fortress world.

The journey was a lengthy one, and so the Knight decided to steal a quick nap while she traversed the black vacuum at impossible speeds, waking only when the ship dropped out of hyperspace. Without much ado, Vrag collected whatever equipment she'd brought with and exited the shuttle, her chitinous boots clanking against the metal floor of the docking bay.

"Irani, dear," she spoke with a cool smile, her face concealed behind the rather gruesome mask she'd taken to wearing. For dramatic effect, of course.


[member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

It appeared that whenever Carach (or whatever ridiculous alter ego he was masquerading as) wasn't trapeezing around the galaxy molesting the students of unsuspecting teachers, he was actually up to something productive. What an incredible change of pace. That said, Gerion was skeptical of his own ability to keep his temper if he laid eyes on that loathsome slug. But he reminded himself, as he usually did, that professionals do not allow major grievances to disrupt their working relationships and opportunities for personal growth and profit. If he let every little problem get in the way of good business ethics, he would have no contacts. He'd tolerated Jacen Cavill's attempted assault on his adoptive family, he could tolerate Carach's libido.

For now.

Once his shuttle landed and the boarding ramp opened, Gerion marched right on out. He was flanked on either side by a TA4, just like any self-respecting power player. It was clear from his expression he wasn't keeping his skepticism hidden. Whatever Carach had in store, it better blow his mind.

"Mr. Irani." Gerion greeted, terse as usual. He then eyed Vrag, noting her choice of armor. Absolutely disgusting."Made a new friend, have we?"

Obviously Gerion knew who Vrag was. She had volunteered to sever limbs from an incompetent once upon a time. But Gerion had only been present under the alias of Adekos, and the fewer who knew of any connection between the two, the better.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

She’d been sleeping when the invite came through on her datapad. It seemed only fitting that the irritating pinging sound that woke her from a pleasant slumber was the result of none other than Ovmar-Carach-Irani (Ovrani?) inviting her on an adventure. Despite an irritated, half-awake kneejerk reaction to murder him for the transgression, she decided it was her fault she’d left the datapad on ‘Loud’ and got up. Despite his tendency to molest, one of his old identities was her oldest friend. And she did love adventures.

Matsu considered herself self-respecting, but she didn’t appear flanked by a pair of droids. In all honesty she was kind of jealous. I mean, the guy had great hair and killer droids? Well, feth me. Maybe she’d have to talk to Ardik about designing something, assuming he would provide customized droids to someone willing to shell out the credits. She was already drawing up schematics in her head as she walked up to join them when she heard the derisive tone in Ardik’s observation. “Oh, come now,” she said as she breezed in to the group, reaching up (really, reaching, she’s short as hell) to run her fingers along the skull projection of Vrag’s armor. Although she was dressed finely, something far too expensive and tailored for what they were likely to be doing, at heart she loved the grotesque. “It’s got its own kind of beauty, don’t you think?” Maybe she was biased. She liked Vrag.

Turning to face Irani, she raised an eyebrow. “So, what are we supposed to be doing? I was groggy reading your message.”

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"]​

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Vrag"]​

When the three statutory individuals arrived in the hangar - one after another, how convenient, and here Irani had been preparing himself to wait it out for a little while more - they would find the business man standing in the center of the bay and coordinating the people and droids there to this duty and that. It seemed that, indeed, Darell was not only busy corrupting the souls of young apprentices by the way of ‘snu snu’, perhaps there was hope for the Sith yet. It wasn’t difficult for the former Mentalist to sense the distinct feeling of annoyance and exclusive indignity radiating from Ardik’s persona, had this been a private conversation he might have done a heart-to-heart, try and reason with the man. But he wouldn’t embarrass the man by bringing the awkward situation up with the two other Sith Lords, such things simply weren’t done.

Instead he simply nodded, gracefully and with the utter calm of a man who had seen much and many.

‘Lady Vrag, Lord Ardik.’ the first got an intonation of familiarity, the second a respectful acknowledgment of presence, more was to come, but then Xiangu waltzed in. Words halted and Irani simply took the time to really take a good look at his former apprentice, and old friend, the last time they had really seen each other was on Manaan and things… had gotten hectic back then. He himself had been fairly busy with handling the generator, evacuation and decisions on the two Jedi Padawan. [member="Reverance"] had come in and saved Xiangu, for that he would always be grateful.

‘Matsu, I am glad you could make it.’ he turned around and waved them to follow him, they would need the appliances in the conference room for this business to properly be executed. Maps, designs and plans, plots within plots. Some things never change and Xiangu would know that better than most.

Darell looked over his shoulder during the walk and asked, to keep the conversation going - maybe he was trying to push it away from the hatred Ardik experienced whenever the Yuuzhan Vong were involved. Could be he was simply very enthusiastic about the entire ordeal. You never knew with Carach, Irani or Ovmar.

‘Have any of you ever heard of the Infinite Empire?’

The question wasn’t as strange as it sounded, the Infinite Empire had fallen ages ago, it wouldn’t be too strange if some of them weren’t familiar with the Rakata and what they represented.

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

“It’s got its own kind of beauty, don’t you think?”

The Umbaran hmphed in response. Although more than eager to disagree, that wasn't the purpose of this meeting. He recognized Xiangu, recalling that brief encounter when Ovmar had her along to confiscate Isley's vessel. What a droll occasion that was. Given how nicely she was dressed now and had been on Hypori, he found it strange she approved of Yuuzhan-Vong byproducts.

Gerion followed silently after Darell, hands clasped behind his back. He raised an eyebrow when the Infinite Empire was brought up. As studious a man as he was, Gerion only had a vague image of the Infinite Empire. They were a joining point for all the species in the galaxy, more or less. The number of history books that contained the phrase "and then the Rakata showed up" was likely astronomical. After all, they had been vicious warlords and slavers of entire species. Ultimately they collapsed, as all galactic empires are fated to do. What little he could find written of them that survived the Gulag Plague indicated they were little more than savages who somehow acquired advanced technology before anyone else.

"Naturally." Said Gerion. "You're not going to have us muck through some ruined temple of theirs, are you?"

 

[Vrag]

She would have to ask him how exactly he kept himself in such great shape — besides the obvious bedroom acrobatics of course — but now was neither the time nor the place. Well, maybe if it were just the two of them and Matsu… but the arrival of the stuck-up blonde was like a cold shower for any suggestive ideas the woman might've voiced otherwise. And such a pity, too; Irani was empirically confirmed to be quality material, and she certainly wouldn't mind finding out how much of a Beast the petite Sith Lord was between the sheets. Oh, well.

She stuck out her tongue at the man and his fancy droid escort — he probably got his ass kicked by even the most incompetent of fighters —quite content that her reaction would go unnoticed behind her mask. Her mood wouldn't be soured today, however. Unlike [member="Gerion Ardik"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"] knew how to appreciate the pinnacle of Vong engineering when she saw it, and the Knight nearly purred at the caress of the Sith Lord against the skull covering her face. Nearly.

"Hello, Iron Maiden," she glanced down at the smaller woman, flashing her a grin she couldn't see but would surely know was there. "This is a… pleasant surprise." Her sharp teeth would peek out as amusement stretched her smirk wider, a sight that might be more reminiscent of a predatory leer than an actual smile. It was moments like these she regretted having the helmet on, but such brief spells of whimsical idiocy always passed quickly, thankfully.

One of the things she appreciated about the [member="Darell Irani"] was certainly his tendency to get straight to the point, and she wasted no time catching his pace as they moved deeper into the facility. Her chitinous boots clanged against the metal floors as she followed the businessman, head cocked slightly to the side when Irani spoke again.

The cranky politician had to pipe up with that grating, annoying tone of voice, naturally, and Vrag resisted the urge to sigh at his snotty attitude. It was a good thing she was as patient as she was, or the white-haired man would make acquaintance with the rather unfriendly wall of the corridor.

"Nope," she shrugged easily, not the least bit bothered by the fact. Knowledge was all fine and well, but she always thought it more important to devote one's time to things that actually had impact on one's life. Events, empires and people predating the Gulag plague interested Vrag as much as a speck of dirt on her boot.

"Did they do anything useful?"

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

​

Irani’s hoard: it was slowly becoming a legend- at least it would, if Darell had been as generous with revealing such details to the wider world, as he was with the sharing of his libido. But sadly that was not the case and only a select few knew of the Irani hoard and even fewer could boast access to the impressive archives. This wasn’t a statement of measurement or boasting, it was simply an explanation on why Darell was knowledgeable on the more obscure subjects of history, esoteric magics and other subjects. The Infinite Empire is a subject of much discussion in the academic circles, some say they used to be the slave workers of the enigmatic Celestials (a civilization worthy of its own thread, probably.) and others claimed that the Rakatan were the Celestials, the truth of the matter would probably never be revealed, not that it mattered for the subject at hand.

​

‘The Infinite Empire then...’ the Voice of the Dark Lord began, baritone patiently starting to orate, even now he was shifting back to the familiar role of a teacher. ‘Their origins are cloaked in mysteries, but their purpose was not. Conquest, the enslavement of countless species, an eternal machine of blood, war and domination. At its peak it was said that they controlled a larger portion of the Galaxy than even the Republic in its glory days.’

​

A shrug, even this portion of history was contested. Because what could they truly know about events that occurred so long ago? Even Flow-Walking became more erratic the farther you tried to dig into those particular eons, there were other ways, more… dangerous ways to dig out the truth. But the consequences were not worth the earnings, who really cared what the Rakatan were, what the Infinite Empire’s goal was? The most important thing, the thing that was applicable to this meeting was what they had left to the Galaxy, their heritage.

​

And what a heritage it was.

​

‘Irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, and to answer Ardik’s question and to come to the point of this conversation. I have managed to procure the location of an ancient installation, a space station hidden away in Deep Space that might have belonged to this enigmatic civilization.’

​

And just like that they had arrived in the conference room, right on time and one would almost suspect that Irani had planned it out like this. Even now the theatrical side of Ovmar was playing through, some things never changed, they just… evolved, warped perhaps, but the foundations were the same still.

​

He turned around, hand paused on the post of the durasteel door, expression held curiosity.

​

‘Interest piqued?’

​

Of course the Sith hadn’t yet mentioned the dangerous involved in the travel and subsequent exploration of the station, but in his mind that was a given. You don’t invite two Sith Lords and the Hand of the Dark Lord to a cakewalk… well perhaps Irani would have done that, just to show-off. You never know with that bastard.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Matsu had always had a voracious appetite for learning, a quality that led her to all sorts of information both useful and useless. So when Ovrani mentioned the Rakata, at least a few things stirred in the endless maze of her wealth of knowledge. Of course there was only so much she could know considering how ancient their society was, nor had she amassed quite the volume of ‘pebbles’ her old Master had seen fit to store away. But she knew enough to realize he was on another of his far-flung ideas of expedition again, a wild adventure that would seem small-beans next to traveling time and space.

Falling in to step next to Vrag, her pace only slightly faster to make up for their difference in their height, she smiled a little at the irritation dripping off the low mental current Matsu picked up from her. She’d only had a few dealings with Ardik and he was undeniably abrasive, but she was hard to annoy. She liked to imagine the Sith Lord as a cute, grumpy puppy that hadn’t been fed in a while. It wasn’t to say she thought little of him, but rather that imagining it was a coping mechanism for his personality. In all likelihood he was a grumpy puppy that would rip her throat out if she tried to pet it. But probably a puppy with nice hair. Where was she? She drifted a little as Ovrani explained. (Don’t worry, she was listening.) Her thoughts too went to Manaan. Theirs had always been a strange partnership, one born out of pain and the promise of suffering that had instead turned to a sort of partnership. He was insufferable and seemed to have a habit of underestimating her, but that just made it easier to pull the rug out from under his feet and laugh a little before helping him up. She’d promised to kill for him and she gladly would until the day he pushed her to kill him too. You know, as long as she didn’t need [member="Reverance"] to come help her up off any floors. Clearly the guy wasn’t useful for much else.

Her attention came back in full however when her old Master mentioned finding a space station drifting in Deep Space that might possibly have belonged to the long-dead civilization. There were multiple incentives to try and make this expedition a successful one from a business perspective, but the promise of seeing something ancient and possibly full of secrets was all the Atrisian would ever need. “I wasn’t aware I paid for the privilege of Coruscanti theatre – open the door,” she said, offering him a half-smile as she waited for his reveal.

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Vrag"]​

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Vrag"]

Now Ovmar was babbling on and acting all theatrical. A novelty, really. Gerion wondered just how many pages Ovmar could take out of his book before Gerion could reasonably accuse him of plagiarism. He wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused by this display. Perhaps it was true- imitation was the highest form of flattery. Not that it made up for Carach's having sex with his apprentice. Bringing that event back to the forefront of his mind and compounding it with the "interest piqued" question posed by Ovrani (obviously their interest was piqued; they had followed him this far) made Gerion's right eye twitch. Again, he was disagreeing with Matsu on a fundamental level. This was not Coruscanti theatre. Not even close. This display was little more than the equivalent of a gaggle of homeless Dugs so hyped up on drugs they were hallucinating themselves as different people. And also the playwright was Circe Savan. Waggish in as loose a sense as possible, yes, but ultimately base and without reasonable merit; a waste of time.

And time is money.

Ultimately Gerion was pleased to see that he had guessed correctly. While it wouldn't be a temple, it would be a space station. At least those would prove a little more hygenic. There must have been something special about the station, otherwise he would not have called them here. Or even done anything about it, really. As interesting as the Rakata were, there were few technological marvels they held that couldn't be replicated today. And the ones that couldn't were more a question of logistics than resources. Gerion had nothing to say, so he gave Ovrani a bored look and waited for him to open the door.

 

[Vrag]

And then he began, and she could see the change in his stature, and the way he puffed his chest to make full use of that deep, oratory voice of his; cue inward groan. The woman freely rolled her eyes behind the skull covering her face, subtly shifting her weight on one leg as preparation for the speech that was surely to come. She only listened to the words halfway, far more focused on his gesticulation. Oh, his face, she knew, but his motions… there was something familiar about them, alright, but it had nothing to do with [member="Darell Irani"].

Blue eyes narrowed at the nonchalant businessman as her mind raced to make a connection — she had seen that already,somewhere — but he was finished before she could reach a conclusion.

Blue eyes narrowed more.

"Yes, yes, now get to the fething point, Irani," she very nearly growled as she pulled herself to full height. "We don't have all day." If the facial expression of her unfortunate co-invitees was anything to go by, they were just as amused by his little tangent. Which is to say, not amused at all.

"Less talking, more space station looting," she added and gave him a less than gentle nudge towards the door.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"]​

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

​

It didn’t seem like his audience were receiving the entire ordeal all that well, barbarians the lot of them, Ardik was probably a secret mandalorian in disguise- no matter how much he claimed to hate them, there was simply no other explanation possibly. But Irani was not a sore loser, unlike some people, and gave them one of his shrugs and smiles.

​

‘Barbarians, no appreciation for cultural necessity.’ the chide was delivered with a smirk and followed by him finally opening the door and revealing the room behind it. It was a simple conference space in the grand scheme of things, wide, a long table with plenty of seating arrangements. At least that was usually the case, today the room was dominated by a singular projection currently hanging over the table, a projection that would probably pull all attention to it immediately.

​

It was a holographic image of a dauntingly huge asteroid with a stationhttp://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Foundry_(space_station) integrated into it, every once in a while the image spun and allowed the viewers to study it from several angles. Solid State Hologram technology too, which meant that it was interactive to a certain degree. The Sith Lord walked into the room and navigated himself next to the projection.

​

‘A research team of mine stumbled onto this a few days ago, it seems to be operational to a degree, no life signs that they could detect. But the innerworks are shielded, so anything could be prowling there.’

​

Irani touched the surface of the asteroid and pushed, which made the scene zoom out and show its rough location on the Galactic scene. Nanth’ri system, Kurost Sector, the Mid Rim. The Rudrig Archive, provided by Ardik, had given him valuable insight in the inner-workings of the Sith Empire and after perusing many references he came to the conclusion that the Empire had known about the station. Maybe even used it for a time, but clearly they weren’t all that successful in their war against the Republic back then, because otherwise they would probably still be here.

​

‘We will go in with a suitable strike force, clear the station and reclaim it.’ Both Xiangu and Ardik would understand the value in this project, connections to the Hegemony meant that business would be very good if this was what they thought it was, if this was another Star Forge… the possibilities were probably endless.

​

Not even mentioning what kind of treasures the station itself might contain. Whatever the Infinite Empire was right now with its filthy cannibalistic urges and Queens… once it had been a mighty civilization with untold power, some of it might still be there. Might, it wasn’t clear, but few things were clear these days and risks had to be taken for capitalism and the pursuit of crushing skulls (Vrag would probably like that very much).

'We will want to move quick, move hard and above all without moving too many forces in play. Last thing we want is to attract attention from the Republic, the Protectorate or any other do-gooder nation.'

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Vrag"]

It was all Gerion could do to not shed this disguise and assume his true Mandalorian form. He would rip off his suffocating business attire to reveal a suit of battle-worn beskar. His glorious golden mane would turn to ashes before their very eyes, revealing a botched buzz cut (because none of those savages were capable of cutting hair in even the most basic ways). Then his knees would buckle, allowing him to assume the true Mandalorian posture of walking on his knuckles. All civilized speech would be rendered incomprehensible in favor of the Mandalorian language of grunts, howls, flinging his own feces, and the occasional pelvic thrusts. Such was the way of Mandalorians.

At least, Gerion would have done it, but Carach was basically already doing that himself. There was no room for two weremandos in this thread.

Whatever Darell was on about wasn't a cultural necessity. Not that the phrase "cultural necessity" necessarily meant anything. Two fancy words strung together to solidify Darell's Mandalorian performance. The rest of Darell's speech did little to convince him of the gravity of this project as it were. A Rakata space station. So what? The technology aboard had probably long been outpaced or was easily replicable. There had to be something greater at work here, otherwise Darell wouldn't have called him.

"So aside from its status as a Rakatan artifact, is there anything else about this station that would warrant my or anyone else's attention?"

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

To this day the Galaxy at large had not replicated most if any of the Rakata’s greater achievements, they hadn’t been able to pull it off before a plague swept them off the proverbial technological ladder and they weren’t capable of doing it now either. The act of teleportation, imprisoning people’s mind into voidless prisons, ancient foundries that were capable of creating spaceships and armaments eternally, transforming planets to suit their needs.

Though he supposed the Yuuzhan Vong did that one too, but Ardik would only agree that their form of terraforming was hazardous and economically unviable to say the least. No, it wasn’t a strange thing to say that today’s civilization hadn’t even come close to the technological advances of the Infinite Empire.

Then again.

Neither were they cannibalistic maniacs, so there was that Irani supposed.

‘The station in question seems to be similar in scope to the Star Forge.’ he let that that settle in for a moment. The last time the Galaxy discovered the Star Forge, well… it wasn’t too much to say that wars had been won and continued only because of its capacity to churn out a seemingly endless supply of war material.

‘An automated foundry, Lord Ardik. One which is still operational to this day.’

Which didn’t mean all that much really, it could mean anything. Maybe there were some emergency stations online that kept the metaphorical lights on and that was about it, could be that once they arrived there that they would find it empty, fracked over and impossible to salvage anything.

Or, they could make the discovery of a century and for Irani that chance was enough.

One didn’t become rich(er) by letting opportunities such as these just go, and so he waited for possible declinations. Irani wouldn’t blame any of them, it was a long shot and all of them were quite busy people in their own right.

 

[Vrag]

Jawn.

It was becoming more and more apparent that the only good Irani was a gagged Irani. I mean. Who in their right mind could stand all that incessant babbling? Certainly not Vrag. Well, at least not when she was sober.

Shifting from one foot to the other, the woman lamented the poor choice of leaving that bottle of Redoubt rum on the ship. It was still unopened — and Force knows that Darell certainly didn't deserve a taste, not after this little escapade — but she knew that at least one member of their ragtag group would be more than happy to partake. The white-haired snob was too much of an unknown at this point for Vrag to be able to say for sure, but from the looks of him, the only thing the man partook in was a daily dose of Stick in the ass™.

Ugh.

Boy, was she glad for that skull on her face now. If the businessman could see the way she was rolling her eyes… well, suffice to say that their weekly kark in that unnamed Coruscanti joint would be postponed indefinitely. Really, though… what the hell was he thinking, droning on with a speech like this? The Knight shaked her head inwardly, more than a little disappointed that Irani didn't know better by now. It didn't exactly take a heart-to-heart to figure out that Vrag wasn't made for long-winded overtures.

"God, Irani," she growled through her teeth, making to step forward with a clear threat permeating her posture. "Let's actually move quick instead of… listening to you prattle!" she waved her hand in an annoyed gesture, barely holding back the urge to reward him with a hard-earned slap. He certainly needed one, but a gentle smack with the armor on would likely send him crashing through that nice hologram and into a wall.

And she wasn't quite irritated enough to do that. Yet.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"]​

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Vrag"]

An automated Rakatan foundry? Similar to the Star Forge? Such a place would have been thousands upon thousands of years old. There was simply no way it could still be operational on any level. Not without occasional outside assistance. At least, that was what logic dictated. Gerion was, however, starting to learn that logic rarely applied to the plots and ploys of Ovrani. No matter how much he wished it did. So, with this in mind, Gerion decided that he was mistaken and that the facility was operational. Why wouldn't it be? Ovrani had said it was. He had more information on this little foundry than Gerion did, after all.

"I'm afraid I have to agree." Gerion eventually said, though he did raise an eyebrow prior to indicate some semblance of interest. "You don't seem interested in talking specifics. Your colleague doesn't seem interested in listening. Print three copies of the report on the this Rakatan foundry and we'll review it ourselves."

His eyes flickered over to Vrag and then back to Ovrani.

"Well, I will, at least."

Gerion knew enough at this point that he would get more information out of twenty minutes of reading than he would six hours of Ovrani speaking. There was a chase he needed to cut too, otherwise they were just wasting time. He hoped Ovrani did, in fact, compile a report on the foundry in question. Extensive record keeping was an important part of maintaining a secure and orderly society, as well as ensuring these sorts of projects were executed as intended. True, nothing ever goes according to plan, but having the plan in the first place tends to bring people closer to success.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

Irani turned his head and then looked down at Vrag, the man did not seem to be very impressed by the bluster of the little thunderhead, but then again… few things did these days. Arctic orbs simply studied the surface of her helmet, the silence stretched and the Hand would get even more feelings that the businessman wasn’t just a businessman- that there was more to it than that. But she would find out about that soon enough, maybe.

Finally then came the moment of truth.

‘You are cute when indignant.’ he replied.

Before focusing himself back on Ardik, his statement had merit. He wasn’t in the mood for specifics, specifics led to tying up possibilities and Ovrani didn’t believe in needlessly restricting himself in his ways, so he simply nodded.

‘Of course, I will get all thre- I will get you a copy, Gerion.’

~~~​

Fire, blood, the screeching screams of metal crashing and folding into each other. Carach ducked underneath the flying bolts of hot plasma, it scorched the fabric of his tunic. The Sith was humming as his Blastsword danced across the fields and destroyed the droids that were trying to keep them locked in the hangar of the Foundry.

Some of them had read the briefing and afterwards they had left for the Foundry, the trip hadn’t been too long- the meeting place had been specifically placed close to the mission itself. Arrived there and docked at the bay, they had immediately encountered resistance.

Irani would have told Ardik to do what he did best, cloak and move ahead- but Gerion was his alter-ego and as Gerion... he wasn't exactly Force Level material. So instead Ardik would have to break through the mess with his droids and see if he could reach some kind of control panel. In the meanwhile Vrag, Xiangu and him would keep the blunt of the forces focused on their personas and away from Gerion's fragile form.

He vaulted over one of the dawned droids and the blastsword roared, a gaping hole forced itself into a second droid. At this point in time Irani was running on an auto-pilot, battlemind running and making his body move without him having to think about it.

‘Hmmmm. Mmhmhmmm. HMM.’ ​

Only the Gods knew what kind of song was currently playing in the guy’s head.

 

[Vrag]

Her nostrils flared, fingers twitching as the woman bit down on her lip, hard; Irani was testing her patience, and while it was substantial, the man had a certain… talent when in it came to pushing her buttons. It probably had something to do with the way the two spent their pastime, though that hobby seemed somewhat endangered at the moment by his ceaseless — not to mention rude! — jibes. The Knight narrowed her eyes at the presumptuous man, but refrained from giving him a smack around the ears. Stooping down to his level would serve nothing but further delay and pointless standing about. If there was one thing the woman couldn't stand, it was spending her time inefficiently.

Luckily for all of them, Irani finally decided to cut the speech short and just get on with it, and visible relief coursed through her coiled muscles as they set out to do what they came to do. Sweet, sweet destruction.

Naturally nothing could go smoothly when the businessman was involved, but that was part of the fun of his company. If she were opposed to bloody bouts, Vrag would hardly hold the position she did; the very thought was absurd, of course, as anybody who saw her in that moment could tell that she loved every second of it. The way her body swayed to the silent, yet deadly rhythm of the dance betrayed the surge of emotion running through her veins, bridled and focused, but lethal nonetheless. The woman prided herself on the control she could exert over every motion, on the way each muscle did exactly as it was told, and it was evident in the circle of twitching droids lying on the ground around her.

With every slash of her blade, the Hand downed another inhuman attacker, fighting with an almost religious fervor. She was one of those people who didn't get tunnel vision during battle, however, and her awareness was spread to the very corners of the room even as she maintained a tight guard around her body with the strikes of the lightsaber in her grasp. She was so concentrated on keeping the droids at bay that she'd almost missed the oddly familiar sound of a soft melody, the low timbre of a voice she knew intimately well reverberating through the hangar just a notch beneath the screaming of metal and the roaring of blaster fire. Almost.

It can't be… her disbelieving eyes flickered to the figure of the businessman, and the realization hit her so hard her tempo faltered for a moment. The warrior paid dearly for the mistake, stumbling backwards as a close-quarters bolt scorched the chitinous plates covering her body, and a growl was coaxed forth from her chest. She punished the offending droid with a quick burst of the Force to its head, sending the severed piece of machinery into a far wall. The flare of her anger abated a bit when the metal squealed at the impact, and she resumed her footwork along with the balanced motions of Niman, doing her best to recover the rhythm she'd so foolishly disrupted.

It was only through sheer force of will that Vrag buried those jarring thoughts, cracking down hard as she devoted herself to combat once again. She couldn't afford to be distracted, not when the numbers were clearly against them.

"Matsu," she huffed out between long, paced breaths, "got any hocus-pocus hidden in those fancy sleeves?" It was odd, using the woman's real name — though it could very well be a pseudonym, of course — but the very recent discovery of a hidden identity had left her somewhat unamused at the thought of monikers and nicknames.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"]​

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Vrag"]

Once upon a time, an Umbaran named Tyrin Ardik had been holed up in a munitions plant on the Roche Asteroids. While a tumultuous battle between the Republic and the Sith Empire raged around them, poor Tyrin was stuck in there, grievously wounded from a fight with an insipid Nautolan rascal. To console himself, Tyrin dug around in the crates and found that one of them contained a WESTAR-34 blaster pistol. Since that timeframe, it had languished in Tyrin's, and then Gerion's, personal shuttle, waiting for use. Today was the time for that use. The '34 was an expensive model, but it had a clean simplicity to it and lethality that just couldn't be captured in other pistols. It was also really fancy and really lightweight, making it adept for use by his sophisticated nobleman's hands.

The two TA4s and one TA2 accompanying him were more than enough to ward off most of the antiquated defenders of this station, but that didn't mean Gerion should pass up the opportunity to practice his marksmanship. Gerion stepped over the scorched mess of a Rakatan battle droid he had gunned down with seven inaccurately fired blaster bolts. It was worth noting that, of the seven, three had actually hit their target. Much better than the last few.

"How far are we from the mainframe?" Gerion asked the TA2.

At that moment he attempted to spin the '34 around in his hand and holster it really quickly, as if he were a gunslinger or something. Instead he mistakenly flung the pistol several feet behind him. The expensive weapon skittered across the floor and Gerion gave chase to it while the TA2 rattled off its assessment.

"Three hundred meters."

"Excellent." Said Gerion, now cramming the '34 into his holster without further attempts at flourishing. "We've not a moment to lose."

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

There was a particular flow to battles, a rhythm that was different to each and every scene one found himself in. Most men and women do not realize this, they don’t live in the moment, they fear for their lives, the lives of their friends and other close-ones, they worry about the outcome of the battle and what it would mean for the future.

Not exactly a perfect breeding ground for battle flow. It had taken Irani years to really get into the mindset, the Netherworld had taught him much- the Field of Blades… its memories still made him wonder sometimes. His body acted in consort to the rhythm of the flow, vaulting over another blow the blastsword lashed out and decapitated one more rakatan creation. They were strange things, vaguely insectoid in nature and infinitely annoying to destroy.

Mostly because every time you knocked one out another one had the tendency to pop up.

They were pretty tough too, only reason he wasn’t dead right now was because a few centuries fighting against Sith spirits on the Field made you quite resilient against such things. He dropped to the ground as a special model tried to jump on him and literally bite his head off, not today, arachnid scum. The thing crashed into a bunch of other droids and generally made a mess of the organized band of evildoers.

Irani kept humming, in his mind he was already busy with the incorporation of the station into his own price project. This was simply an exercise of patience, nothing more.