Private Infiltrating The House

[Syd Celsius]

Wearing: Civilian Garb

Armed with: Echani Vibrosword

With: The Man in White

Starlin Rand

Edge of Former CIS Space, Trading Space Station.

After the battle of Onderon against the Sith...


Syd Celsius and Laertia Io, The Black Knight of Nar Shaddaa blasted down the doors to the Sith Outpost set up in secret on a remote world within the borders of SJC space. They had been clever, but the SJC Intel had been genuine and smoked them out.

Everyone inside was to be taken alive.

Syd was giddy at being next to Laertia again. She had never tried to be in an actual relationship before. They were both still getting used to it. This assignment was a chance for them to bond a little more.

Laertia seemed full of endless energy, bubbly, enthusiastically wanting to know as much as she could about Syd, like her hobbies. Syd liked collecting stuff, and of course, archeology. Laertia enjoyed technology and droids. They had only been in this tentative relationship for about a week or so.

Syd was wearing her Gold and Navy Blue Catsuit, Laertia in her scuffed and dented black armor. Syd stepped forward, activating the fiery orange blades of her Split Saber, Laertia activating her own blade, a strange one with a dark green core and white aura, springing from a weathered and scratched hilt.

They were greeted by the sight of multiple red blades and the power up whines of multiple blasters.

"I don't suppose we could do this peacefully?" Syd offered to everyone present.

The soldiers opened fire...and their projectiles were all paused in the air with a wave of the hand by Laertia, who retaliated by flinging Throwing Card Knives at them with superhuman strength, then teleporting their knives above the blasters, shearing some of them in half, hitting others in the shoulder and injuring them.

Syd flung herself at the Sith present, staff spinning expertly to intercept the blades of multiple attackers, Laertia teleporting behind the remaining shooters and 'gently' knocking them the feth out as she closed the distance, tossing people into each other, using plumes of smoke to confuse and distract her opponents. Syd however, wasn't afraid to delimb a Sith in order to end the thread they posed and 'then' knock them the feth out.

Syd parried and sheared through a pair of Sith Legs, using Force Flight to dive and twirl away from blows at unexpected directions, a foot crashing into a face, a fist breaking a jaw. For Laertia it was a two finger tap to the head and down they went. A Lightsaber may have been used to maim but never kill.

Slowly, methodically, no matter how many were shooting they cleared out the hidden outpost. People being flung through passageways comically flaying their hands in mid air, multiple explosions from grenades teleported away from where they were tossed. If Laertia and Syd had wanted to kill them it would have taken only half as long as it did.

Aggression eventually won the day, the last of the outpost defenders falling. There had been dozens of them. Dozens upon dozens.

It had taken only ten minutes.

Syd turned to Laertia, who was still breathing hard.

"Are 'all' our dates gonna be this...'heated'?" Syd joked.

"Wellz, I'dz orrigynully planndz flowahz annd chocklettz, but fygurrdz dhis mytez beez morrz yorr speedz..." Laertia admitted sheepishly.

"I wonder if this is the equivalent of going to the movies for people like us..." Syd pondered, arms hooking around Laertia's shoulders, whose arms in turn hooked around Syd's waist. Laertia's mismatched eyes had a twinkle in them.

"Musta beenz a reel gud moovee dhdn, 'cuz weez arr styllz inn duh seetz..."

"Who paid for the Popcorn?" Syd asked, a metallic gloved hand playing with Laertia's soft black hair.

"Wellz...we 'bothh' wenntz innz onn duh poppkornn..." Laertia replied slyly, finger tips dancing on Syd's catsuit covered spine.

"But I paydz fer duh drinnkz anndz duh kanndee..."

"I guess that means I covered the tickets..." Syd replied flirtatiously amid all the people they had knocked the feth out or crippled.

"Izzit a dubbul feechurr?" Laertia asked, face drawing closer.

"Of course. One film is action horror..." Syd replied, drawing Laertia in for a kiss, which lasted a few seconds.

"And the other is a Rom-Com..." Syd added after the Kiss.

"I cudz gettz uzed tooz duh Romm-Komm, addmytteddleez..." Laertia replied breathily...

That was when Syd woke up, alone in her quarters aboard an XS-Stock Light Freighter called Cademimu's Bounty. It belonged to Zabka Bis'clavret, known throughout the Gulag Era as The Man in White , and her former, estranged master.

She wore simple Civilian clothes, a jacket, shirt, and pants, all loose and somewhat baggy. She had none of her usual weapons. None of them could take any of their usual weapons except a blade or blasters.

The cabin was cold and unfamiliar. Just clothes and rations, and datapads with hidden hacking devices.

Syd held the vibroknife. It was Laertia's kind of knife, with a double edge, stiletto shape and built in knuckle duster. Laertia had taught her how to use knives.

Syd looked at it sadly, and holstered it. She decided to look for Starlin, then realized he probably wasn't up yet. Zabka was, however.

He was studying the blurry image of the strange Star Destroyer that had been sighted in former CIS space.

"Morning." he said without looking at her.

"You're gonna burn a hole in the hologram if you keep staring." Syd told him.

"We're going to board this or something like it. I'm looking for weak points."

"Zabka, do we really need to bring Starlin for this?"

Zabka turned to her, smoothing dark hair back.

"He's got a Death Mark. Your...training...helped keep him alive. It at least got him through the door. But he was burning out. They would have got him eventually. And right now...we're the only ones who can help him."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it..." Zabka said quietly. "He killed a Padawan, T'sid. My son killed a Padawan because he followed you. Because you followed this woman, and the assistance you initially rendered allowed her to go and kill many more Jedi. It's not just Starlin I'm pissed at you about. Laertia Io had her whole fething life ahead of her, and now the only way it ends for her is a cell or a firing squad! If you had thought for one instant to pull her back from the brink before Dantooine, Laertia wouldn't be the psychotic monster she is today. Maybe your emotions coming back to you wrecked your judgement, but that still doesn't change the results of your bad judgement."

"You're right..." Syd acknowledged. "You're absolutely right. I am guilty as sin."

She stepped closer.

"I was in the perfect position to reign her in when I still could have, and my emotions over her caused me to completely misjudge the entire situation. But let's not forget why it was so hard for me to get a grip on my feelings. As I recall, a certain someone tore me apart at the Molecular Level and reforged me into his personal weapon with emotions dull as cardboard. And then once he had gotten as much use out of me as he could put me in a chunk of Nullification Resin for my trouble and left me in a dark damp cave to be forgotten, with me screaming in an amber void for three centuries."

"You do not get to lay your feth-ups on me..." Zabka said.

"Why didn't you just destroy me completely?" Syd asked.

Zabka walked out of the hold.

Two hours later...

Zabka had made a quick breakfast for when Starlin woke. Basically quick heat sausages on a stick in fried pancake batter. He had sometimes bought them as a treat for when he was still together with Jen. Syd finally found the courage to head into the mess area, and blinked as Zabka offered her a small plate with three.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you. We have to work together. For Starlin. We can't do that if we are constantly at each other's throats over the past."

Syd took the plate hesitantly.

"You were absolutely right about everything you said. About me."

"Don't think I don't recognize the fact that without your training, The Amalgam would have killed him at Krayiss Two." Zabka replied. "And don't think it doesn't burn me that even with all your screw ups, you were still more of a parent to him than I've been."

Zabka took a bite of his batter covered sausage dipped in maple syrup and sweet cream cheese frosting.

"There's been a bit of a change. I contacted Coren Starchaser and told him my plan. Told him to meet us here if he was interested."

"Chit..." Syd said. "Does he know I'm here?"

"I might have mentioned it. Yeah."

"Greaaaat..." Syd whistled. "He's back up..."

"Yeah."

There were few people Laertia despised as much as Coren Starchaser. She blamed him for sabotaging any hope of a unified response to the Bryn'adul. To her, the blood of trillions was on his hands for that. Syd heard Coren had a vicious duel with Laertia at Korriban over it.

"He'll be here in a half hour if I timed it right."

Syd took a bite of batter covered sausage. "I'm gonna hate this fething trip..."

 

[Coren Starchaser]

There was a call, a request, really, for him. There were some Jedi heading for the Io Star Destroyer. Laertia, once upon a time, was a great fighter, but based on some of his own words, some of his own mis-steps, she had become something different, something dark.

Something twisted.

He was a Jedi Master, but he was now a wayseeker, someone on his own, with his own agenda. He supported the Silvers, as well as the New Jedi Order, but his job now was mostly with the Ossus Initiative, to help rebuild the Scar Worlds, the group of worlds lost to the Bryn and the Sith alike. He was working on being less a Crusader, more a healer. A change for him, but hopefully, a welcome one.

Perhaps the healing didn't need to stop at worlds, perhaps he could help with fixing the people that were hurt, and who better to start with, than Laertia Io herself? The Jedi Master had prepped a small interceptor to head to the coordinates. The team he was meeting could use the hand, and well… he could use the peace of mind.

It didn't take long before he arrived, pretty close to the scheduled meeting time, if not a few moments early.

Egressing from his fighter, he looked at the team. "You're sure you want me with you, going here?"

Syd Celsius

 

[Starlin Rand]

Starlin woke up to a familiar smell. The scent of sausage and pancake batter cooking brought a forgotten childhood memory to the forefront of his mind, yet when he opened his eyes he found himself staring at foreign surroundings.

Oh yeah. He was on some freighter, taking part in an undercover mission with his master and the old man. They were going to infiltrate the ranks of House Io… and hopefully gather enough intel to help them take down Darth Xiphos.

If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again…

He sat up. As he performed his morning stretches, his mind wandered.

Would he ever actually be able to defeat Xiphos? Apart from the frightening visions he’d had of a future where she took everything from him, did he even want to oppose her? Oh, well, her forces had attacked the Jedi, he reminded himself. But that seemed to have died down. She was mainly interested in fighting the Maw and helping the Scar Worlds, right?

Starlin was willing to fight her in the theater of war, if need be, but he had little interest in a personal rivalry with Xiphos, despite her having declared that she would kill him after he told her the truth about Syd. Perhaps if she could be made to understand that he didn’t care what she did with her weird robot family, so long as she wasn’t attacking Jedi anymore, she would stop hounding him and his family… unless she was insane, in which case there was no reasoning with her.

But then there was Syd. Even if Xiphos could be persuaded to leave Starlin alone, she would most definitely not stop trying to kill Syd. Despite everything that had happened, from her leading him astray to abandoning him, Starlin still loved Syd. He knew that, even if he were to grow callous and cold toward everything else, he would still rush to her defense against Xiphos.

As usual, the Force had thrown him a curveball and tasked him with chewing on the leather until it dissolved—a process which would take years to complete. And his jaw was already sore from it.

… That was a weird metaphor, but okay.

Finishing with his stretches, he did some pushups and other exercises, then took a trip to the sonic shower. He finally left his quarters clean and fully dressed in spacer garb.

“‘Sup,” he greeted his father. Glancing at the sausage treats, he felt a pang of nostalgia, but didn’t remark upon it. Instead, he picked up a plate, served himself, and started eating.

Syd was also aboard the freighter, although she appeared distracted. It wasn’t hard to understand why, but then Zabka explained that Coren Starchaser would be joining them. Starlin’s eyebrows shot up. “You actually got him to help us out? Wait a minute—isn’t this supposed to be an undercover thing? Won’t they definitely notice if Coren freaking Starchaser shows up?” Actually, weren’t they all highly recognizable to Xiphos and her forces?

Presumably they had planned ahead. Maybe they’d all be given a magical disguise, or even something less mystical, like makeup or holograms. Or maybe Starlin was mistaken, and they weren’t actually going to try and hide… or at least, not for long.

Anyway, it was too late. Coren Starchaser had already arrived.

Syd Celsius Coren Starchaser​

 

[The Man in White]

"We're going to be magically disguised for the mission..." Zabka assured his son. "The goal is to understand just what Xiphos has in terms of resources. I want to figure out where the technology she uses came from if possible. I want to know what she's capable of throwing at her enemies. Plus, I want to know just what she is doing with the Refugees."

"She was training them to fight Bryn'adul. She claimed to me she started taking in refugees and training them to resist the Bryn'adul after Sarka, but I'm starting to think she started doing it as early as Nar Kreeta...who knows what it's turned into now?" Syd muttered.

"Master Starchaser agreed to it easily, it turned out..." Zabka said in answer to Starlin's question.

Zabka ate a few more of the sausages.

"This will be extremely dangerous, what we are attempting. We can't afford a fight unless it's a desperation move. This is strictly an infiltration mission. Maybe if we're lucky we might find a good enough weakness to exploit in future conflicts."

Zabka hated everything about this mission. So far, the time he had spent with Starlin consisted of both of them fighting for their lives. It was not the way he had wanted to come back into his Son's life.

But what could he do? Starlin had never had an arch Enemy before.

"No matter what you see, no matter what you witness, harden your heart. We're not going there to be heroic." Zabka advised.

"Totally inspiring pep talk, my old master." Syd muttered.

"I always did kind of suck at those." Zabka acknowledged

Just then, he sensed Coren Starchaser arrive and went out to meet him.

"Master Starchaser, welcome. And yes, I'm sure I want you here. If it all goes south, we'll need someone who survived a direct encounter with Xiphos on our side. Come inside, and I'll explain."

Once Coren followed him in, Zabka would begin laying out the plan, Syd shuffling uncomfortably in Coren's Presence.

"Xiphos's organization has expanded. She is taking in refugees by the thousands, apparently having secured more funding. She has also started creating bio organic soldier droids People have started making reports of a strange Black Star Destroyer in former confederate territory, which we are in currently, picking up refugees who reach out to their agents. That have active recruitment personnel showing up at stations such as the one we are on. We are going in as refugees ourselves, in disguise, and learn as much as we can before finding a way off... somehow..." Zabka explained. "It arrives in three hours. We need to be at a refugee gathering in two. If you have any questions, now is the time."

 

[Starlin Rand]

Magically disguised as refugees, infiltrate the recruitment drive, learn all that we can about Xiphos’ technology, methods, and so on. No interfering.

That last rule didn’t sit well with Starlin. If he saw some injustice occurring, he wasn’t about to stand by and let it happen. Granted, Xiphos wasn’t the type to drown kittens or kick puppies—but some of her allies, on the other hand…

Though he didn’t voice his feelings, if he saw a Cultist or Witch torturing somebody, or anything similar, he’d find a way to stop it. Without blowing their cover. There had to be a way. There always was. Right?

Right.

“No questions,” he replied to Zabka, then hesitated. “Well, besides the whole ‘we’ll find a way out somehow’ part. How about a backup ship hidden at a secret location? Or something along those lines?”

The Man in White Coren Starchaser​

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The fact that he was getting a sense that it was a bit of a shock that he was here already placed the Jedi Master on watch. He was not nervous, he was just keeping a watchful eye on everything. If something could be done about Io, then maybe a tide could be turned, a head off of the hydra that was working to fight this galaxy down and break it. That was always worth a risk.

Nodding as he was greeted, the Master was in more spacer attire than Jedi robes, a leather flight jacket was the one constant for Coren, and this one did hide his lightsaber, while his blaster was clear on his hip. "As long as you're sure." A half-smirk on the Corellian's face. And then it hit him, it wasn't Laertia any longer. But she had to be in there… When someone went to the dark side, to the Sith, there were a time where they could be brought back, for some, like Carnifex, that ship had left the port, but maybe not for others.

As he followed Zabka, he nodded. "Going right into the belly of the beast, as it were? How are we going to keep them off of following our guise? Its not like I'm easy to hide." Especially if Laertia was around.

"If a ship has an engine and a hyperdrive, I can make it work, but it wouldn't be a bad call to have a rescue boat on standby."


The Man in White Starlin Rand

 

[Syd Celsius]

"I do have something..." Zabka said. "A little ritual I whipped up... should last us about a week. We'll still look like ourselves to one another, but we'll look totally different to others. As to our cover..." Zabka explained, getting out a few datapads.

"We're going in as refugees. From Jedha. A lot of people died there. Some of whom will surely desire bloody revenge on the Maw...but the key is making them believe we are refugees. As for the ritual..." Zabka continued, pulling out a strange bowl from a shelf filled with Spirit Ichor...

Stole this batch from a Nightsister. She didn't need anymore..." he said without further explanation.

"I tweaked it. All you gotta do is dip your finger in it and imagine what you want others to see and hear when they look at and talk to you. We have to look like we're of fighting age. Which we are, but we can't go in as old people. It would look even MORE suspicious when we start snooping around..." Zabka said.

"We should be careful in how we snoop around though...we have to pick our opportunities carefully, for we will be under observation." Syd added. "And from what I remember of the Model 1 Nuetralizer Units, they are 'very' observant. Even with a disguise, there is a risk they could sleuth us out...I've seen 'em do it."

Zabka dipped his finger in the bowl, closed his eyes, imagined his appearance, and a golden field shimmered over his body for a second, then vanished.

"As for escape vehicles, I have contingencies in place." Zabka assured. "Now, memorize your cover identities. We have an hour and a half."

Syd would spend that time avoiding Coren Starchaser . Despite no longer supporting Laertia, she was not a fan of his still, feeling somewhat as Laertia did about him and the SJC. It was why she had refused to try and help them with anything, even after leaving Laertia behind. Only Starlin Rand truly mattered to her any longer, and maybe Zabka. She had been disillusioned, but in a different way.

But the truth of it was that she simply couldn't bring herself to even talk to him. How could she explain that she hadn't seen it? Hadn't caught it, in spite of everything? Everything about her own past. Had she really been that blind? Worse, had some part of her subconsciously wanted revenge for all she had been put through? The thought terrified her.

How could she explain to Coren how she had let Io become this thing that had butchered Jedi for a hopeless cause? How could she face him?

If only her son hadn't paid the price with her...

She would make up for the months she had spent battling a nervous breakdown. She would never abandon him again...

Syd after eating the rest of her breakfast with Starlin. (She would quietly listen to whatever he had to say, while Coren would be offered a seat at the table and a chance to eat the tasty batter covered breakfast sausages with maple syrup), she spent the rest of her time in her quarters, memorizing what was on the datapad, after dipping her finger in the bowl and magically enveloping herself in the disguise ritual.

One hour, forty five minutes later...

The space station was truly a backwater, out side most commercial trade lanes. It hummed with abandonment, of faded dreams.

"This reminds me of a couple of jobs I did during the Plague..." Syd remarked to Starlin as they headed through the station at the rendezvous point. The instructions Zabka's contact had given had been very specific. As they walked they started encountering more and more Refugees, some with empty, vacant expressions, some recovering from injuries. Syd felt pain radiating off of them. These people had lost families, livelihoods, lovers, pets, planets, cultures. Syd honestly wasn't surprised they had chosen to reject the GA's hospitality, and even that of the SJC. These people didn't want peace, or healing. They wanted blood and pain and suffering and vengeance on those they held responsible. No wonder they were going with what Xiphos was selling: She was the only one willing to make them the monsters they wanted to be.

"It reminds me too..." Zabka said quietly.

"You really think this will work?" Syd asked.

"It will or we're gonna have some egg on our face." Zabka answered grimly.

"I remember before the Plague how you made excellent scrambled ones..." Syd noted.

"You remember that, eh?"

"Bits and pieces..." Syd admitted.

In an even quieter voice she said. "I'm sorry for what my choices led to."

"Welcome to the club..." Zabka replied.

They all soon arrived at an out of the way hangar filled with refugees, all radiating hatred. Of the Bryn'adul, of the Maw, of the NIO, of the Jedi. Such hatred that was almost Sith like, despite most of them not being Force Users. Such pain. Such overwhelming pain. Loss. Sadness.

Syd found herself growing angry at Xiphos for holding out the shiny golden apple of vengeance to these people when they were at their lowest. These people were enraged, and rightly so but fighting Jedi would only make it worse. They couldn't truly be that willing to go so far?

(Cutaway of J Jonah Jameson laughing uncontrollably.)

But what else were they getting that would make them stay?

They waited exactly ten minutes before the ships arrived, dark blue painted Sentinel Craft. Three to be exact. Just enough for everyone present.

One of the craft, having been given a red stripe on the front of its craft, was the first to open the hatch.

Out stepped a woman in a silver gown with floral patterns. She was quite beautiful, with very tanned skin and chocolate hair, but if you stared closely, you could see something wasn't quite right. Her skin looked too perfect. And her movements were too smooth, yet too precise at the same time.

The Diplomatic Nuetralizer Model 1 turned and scanned the room staring at everyone. It noticed nothing amiss.

"Hello everyone. My name is Farris. It gladdens me to see so many here, to see so many willing to grasp for an alternative to what the major factions offer. We at House Io understand your pain. Your frustration. But you are not citizens yet. You will be spending a few weeks aboard one of our Star Destroyers, the Blood of Naboo. There you will be properly educated on your duties and rights as a citizen, given a glimpse into our society, screened for diseases and then you are to be shipped off to one of the various space stations we control for training and housing. Provided you pass your final trial, you will be declared a House Citizen."

When the Nuetralizer knew she had their full attention, she continued.

"A word of warning. Our life is not for the faint of heart. Even if you succeed as a citizen, it's an often harsh existence. But we shall do our utmost to make you not only able to survive, but thrive in harshness. If any of you wish to leave, you have until the end of your stay on the Destroyer to make that decision. After that you're a Citizen Applicant until you fail your training completely. Of course... should you wish to leave early...now will be an excellent time to do so..."

No one moved. All staying firmly in place.

"Very well then. Please come aboard..."

The other craft opened up. Aboard each was a single House Io Mercenary Droid, colored black and Dark Blue, armed with a weapon that looked very similar to an E-11.

"Welcome Applicants. Please store your luggage in our cargo bays." one of the heavily modified B1 units said.

The refugees begin filing into the craft...Syd and Zabka began moving toward one.

 

[Starlin Rand]

Starlin peered into the bowl of spirit ichor. “Nice.” He cautiously dipped a finger in the stuff. He’d always wondered what the consistency of ichor was supposed to be. Gooey? Slimy? Oily? Wet? What he got was essentially a lot of warm nothing; ichor was, in reality, a form of pure energy, not green goo. He felt something akin to a shock upon coming in contact with it as the magic took hold, but that was all.

Now to figure out what his fake identity would be. An adult of fighting age, male… human, as they were the most common species in the galaxy and the least likely to draw attention…

...wait, why was he picturing Arcturus Dinn ?

He was still picturing Arcturus, the Sith Acolyte whom he had once befriended. In fact, now he was Arcturus, red hair and all.

It was extremely unlikely that anyone would recognize him, so he figured it didn't matter. But it did feel a little undignified, being a ginger. No wonder Arc was so miserable.

Uh, no offense to Syd, of course.

With that of the way, he sat down to finish his breakfast. Syd was also there, though they had little to say to each other. He’d been drinking, she’d been searching. Whatever bad blood still lay between them could only be washed clean by success. What Starlin needed most right now—what they all needed—was a victory against Xiphos.

Later on, as the group boarded the ship, Starlin stood near the others in the cheap civilian clothing they’d provided for this mission. He couldn’t see the difference in himself or the others, but judging by the looks strangers gave him (or rather, the lack of looks) the magical disguise seemed to be working. He was just another face in the crowd, unrecognizable.

A droid made to look like a human woman gave the recruits a speech, telling them what to do and what to expect. Starlin followed instructions accordingly. Provided no one tried to stop him, he’d be boarding the same vessel as Syd and Zabka.

The Man in White Coren Starchaser​

 

[The Man in White]

Zabka had a nervous tension to him as the shuttles took off. He was secretly quite terrified at bringing his son Starlin Rand along for all this. If they were caught, they were dead. Flat out. They'd have to be more careful than they had ever been at anything.

The flight was relatively uneventful. At least until all those Bioshock vibes started kicking in.

A Hologram of Darth Xiphos, clad in a strange, dark blue Armor flared into existence.

"Welcome!" The Xiphos Hologram said merrily, the A.I. directing it to walk amongst the rows of seats.

"If you're here, you've taken your first steps into a free world. The Major Factions failed all of us." The Hologram said. "They were content to let billions die, all for their obsession with the Sith. They all but admit they don't care what happened to the scar worlds, and many Jedi have utterly dismissed what happened as the will of The Force. Take it from someone who knows: they always go to that tired explanation to avoid having to justify their mistakes to others. I promise you right here and now, I will never hide behind the will of some nebulous God to explain why I do what I do. I do what I do because I believe it must be done."

The Hologram than flickered to the front of the cabin.

"All of you have heard the rumors about me. Let me assure you that many of them are true. I am a Mass Murderer. I do have a cabal of raging, hardcore Dark Side nutcases doing my dirty work in enemy territory. Yes, they did allow me to describe them in those exact words because that is what they are. But let me assure you, all the really bloody acts they do occur in the territories that left you to die in the first place, so it all kinda balances itself out."

Zabka blinked, eyebrow raised at the single most insane pitch he had ever heard. The other Applicants showed little change in expression. Syd was riveted to her seat, trying to hold back her sorrow at what she had enabled, at Laertia's broken state of mind. The Laertia she knew would never have said or done anything like this...

... would she?

I've created a monster. she said to herself mentally, grief clear in her telepathic voice, not aware she had not said it in private, because Starlin had likely heard it also. Zabka had definitely heard it, and knew the sentiment...he had the same reaction when Darth Phyre had appeared for the first time.

Zabka had never truly forgiven himself for blowing apart T'sid Surt'r. Not just it had been like killing a Daughter, but because it had led to the murder of countless innocents when she had been reborn...

That had partly contributed to the centuries long Nervous Breakdown he had suffered after Phyre had been finally defeated.

First time? he asked bitterly in spite of his own sorrow. He didn't hate Xiphos. He felt sorry for her. Maybe more than he should have given her bloody crimes, but still...

"As a Citizen, you become family. And together, we shall strike back at all those responsible for destroying our old lives. As a Citizen, every other Citizen, be they Droids or Organics, will fight alongside you as though you are blood relatives. You will be guaranteed Freedom of Speech. Freedom of Assembly, Freedom of The Press, the right to carry even Disruptors as personal weapons, provided you pass the mandatory training course for those, and a slew of other rights such as the right to vote. In exchange, you must all become Warriors, willing to fight and die for this faction. Be you a short order cook, a banker, a veterinarian, ideally, you will all develop a body count over time." the Hologram explained. "We are a faction where you can be you and as long as you are loyal and competent, any one of you will always be welcome to fight alongside me. Now, in the next few days you will be assigned an Acclimation Officer to oversee your integration into House Culture. They're randomly selected from our current populace of Tier 1 Citizens. We try our best to be a meritocracy, so you only advance to higher tiers of citizen ship, including the right to hold office, by repeatedly displaying competence, bravery, or rendering some great service to your fellow citizens, defending the faction from it's enemies repeatedly, or helping the faction gain territory. Now, one final big warning..." The hologram continued, hands behind it's back.

"Those Dark Side Psycho Ass Nutcases that do my dirty work? They're called the Cult of The Brain Demon. You'll know them by their all white Catsuits or all white clothes. Now they're fellow citizens too, and under the same oaths of loyalty you will be. Most of them, despite being Psycho Ass Nutcases, will be perfectly happy to fight alongside you and you can trust them not to turn on you or your children. But if history has taught us all anything it's that there is always a few poison pills in the bunch. So feel free to trust them completely but you do so at your own risk. And yes, they said it was okay for me to tell you this. If, for whatever reason you end up having to kill one, I advise investing in Ysalamiri, Amphistaffs, Nullification Resin because it's poisonous as feth to them, any sort of Force Canceling method if you can swing it, and of course the old standby, Sonic Disruptors and Automatic Shotguns. Tears those Motherfethers up good." Xiphos explained. "Also, don't meet alone with them, but if you have to, tell at least twelve random citizens before you do. Most of all, do not give any pens to The Cult of The Brain Demon. Do not give any pencils to The Cult of The Brain Demon. No scissors or paperclips. If they offer you something, refuse it in a timely and polite manner."

("Disco Inferno" by The Trammps Plays)

The expression that was on Zabka, Syd's, and the faces of a few others could best be described by this lovely gif:

Later on...


The shuttles at last came to the strange looking Star Destroyer at the edge of the system. It was black, with blue running lights, the name KNV BLOOD OF LYSANDRA on the side.

It docked and in minutes everyone aboard began to disembark and filed out into lines. General Purpose Nuetralizers, of the same kind Zabka had been forced to fight to the death weeks prior awaited, tanned skin HRD's wearing skintight Green Catsuits, waited behind desks. This was immigrant processing. Zabka studied the high tech he saw everywhere, Syd tried to contain her disquiet and shock.

Xiphos was no longer some random Warrior leading an army of murder droids.


OOC : Credit to Starlin for finding Gif

 

[Starlin Rand]

Starlin listened to the entirety of Xiphos’ hologram speech and stifled any negative reactions to her words. He could sense the horror of his father and master, and heard Syd’s telepathic thought. She still blamed herself for what had happened with Laertia. He wished he could comfort her, but he had a feeling no amount of reassuring her would convince Syd that it wasn’t her fault.

Instead, he went for his usual humor. “Hey,” he whispered, nudging the person in the seat next to him with a grin. “Are you ready to amass a body count?”

His neighbor was a rather pretty Human girl with long auburn hair. “I sure hope so,” she replied with a flirtatious smile.

Starlin’s eyebrows rose. Girls didn’t usually act like that towards him. Was it just because he was disguised as Arcturus?

Okay, don’t get any funny ideas. He wasn’t a creep who would seduce a girl while pretending to be somebody else. Besides, if she was about to join House Io, that would make them enemies.

He settled back in his seat, staring straight ahead, and tried to ignore her. But the girl didn’t seem to take the hint.

“I’m Ava,” she introduced herself. “What’s your name?”

“Uh...” He hesitated. “... Ethan. My name’s Ethan.”

She mistook his scrambling to come up with a fake name for mysteriousness. “Where are you from?”

“Ossus.” Starlin scratched his nose, his cheeks flaming up underneath his magical disguise.

“I’m from Chandaar. Pretty close to you. So, what brings you to House Io?”

“Same as everyone else, I guess. The stupid star wars destroyed my home and ruined my life.”

“The Bryn slaughtered my entire family, the Sith tortured me, and the Crusaders tried to have me crucified just because I wasn’t part of their religion. The Jedi weren’t there to stop any of it.” She gestured vaguely toward where the hologram had been. “I don’t really care about the rest. I just want revenge.”

Starlin just looked at her. He didn’t know what to say. Clearly she had been through more than anyone should ever have to bear. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and meant it. “For everything.”

She reached over and laid her hand on top of his. He didn’t pull away.

When they reached the Star Destroyer, Ava was still clutching his hand, though her touch was less a flirtation and more for the sake of familiarity. There were a lot of people joining the House, and it was easy to get lost among the sea of faces.

Unfortunately, Ava’s presence also meant Starlin couldn’t go and find Zabka or Syd in the crowd. He had expected they would have to remain separate most of the time, but he hoped he could at least give them a nod of acknowledgement along the way. Thankfully he could sense their presences aboard the ship via the Force, so he knew they were alive and had gotten there safely.

He headed toward the HRDs in green for processing, Ava in tow.

The Man in White​