First Reply Old Habits, New Tricks

[Jak Meridian]

Corsucant was unique. Despite being the seat of power for the Jedi and those they guard for what seems like an endless period of time, beneath the surface was a would unto its own. Beneath the bustling streets of the upper levels and buried beneath generations of steel and iron was a world so very different from the surface.

The lower levels were many, so much so that you'd be forgiven for not realizing you were even in a 'lower level.' But one would quickly realize their mistake as the relative comfort of security above quickly becomes something else. Down here is where the real Corsucant was.

Jak smirked to himself as he tossed aside the credit chip. Below him lay a recently decommissioned droid, an older battle droid model that he was unfamiliar with. Credits, however, weren't his goal. He continued to shift his hands around the scraps the droid produced for a brief moment before stopping. He found his prize.

Slowly he stood up, a singular ion-battery in his gloved hands. While it was only powerful enough to provide life to a droid, it was just the right amount of power needed for his ship's navcom, which was dated and needed repairing. Placing it in a pouch on his utility belt, the Sith warrior turned swiftly and made his way down and out of the alleyway he had found himself in.

His ship was on the surface, about a hundred levels above. Not one to waste time, Jak began snaking his way through the busy crowds. It was curious to him- how busy these lower seedier levels were. It only confirmed his own feelings about the galaxy and those who found themselves living within it: every man for himself.

Jak was, however, a social creature. The years he spent hiding his force-sensitivity had turned him into quite a manipulative mind. He couldn't help himself but to try and make new friends, or enemies.

As he moved he felt a strange sense wash over him. Unlike most Jedi or Sith, who were devoted to the Force in their own unique ways, Jak did believe in luck. More than that he believed in fate beyond the Force. This feeling he found himself having was an indication.

Of a possible friend? Mayhaps a foe? The galaxy was a big place filled with opportunity. And one seemed to be coming his way, whatever way that may be.

@Open OOC: Bad at post starts but first time, open to anyone who sees a possible story!

 

[Darth Keres]

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Location: Coruscant - Underworld
Tag: Jak Meridian


The Underworld of Coruscant breathed like a diseased lung—slow, ragged, and full of the rancid vapors of a civilization that had long since rotted beneath its own brilliance. The upper levels glittered in sterile light, but here, below the veins of durasteel and smog, darkness was sovereign. Dripping pipelines whispered like veins leaking lifeblood. Holosigns flickered and died, their broken light washing the walls in sickly pulses of color, as if the shadows themselves were breathing.

It was through these stifling, dripping catacombs of civilization that Darth Keres moved—not walking, but gliding, as if gravity was a courtesy she declined. The air around her rippled faintly, disturbed not by her presence but by her absence of sound. Even the scavenger beasts, the eyeless carrion-feeders that scuttled among the refuse, withdrew into their nests, chittering with an instinctual terror that could not be reasoned with.

Her cloak trailed across the corroded duracrete like a veil of spilled ink. Beneath its folds, the armor whispered softly—an exoskeleton of blackened alloy etched with runes that bled faint violet light: she hunted for a taboo relic—one said to be older than the Republic, older than the Sith Empire, older perhaps than the Force itself. The Obsidian Anathema, it was called in forbidden archives—a shard of something that had once screamed in the void, a crystal heart torn from the corpse of a god. It was whispered to feed on resonance, devouring not energy but intention, turning belief itself into a weapon.

But then—a disturbance.

Not the mechanical groan of the lower city, nor the restless stirring of vermin. It was the Force, bending faintly beneath the weight of another will. Cold. Powerful judgmentally. Familiar in its cruelty.

Another Sith.

"I can feel you," she whispered, each word dipped in venom and delight. "A kindred rot… a rival song in the same key of ruin. Tell me, shadow—do you seek the Obsidian Anathema, or merely hope to die in its presence?" The Underworld held its breath, waiting for the first sound of the inevitable—when the silence between two Sith would finally fracture.

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Spoiler: Gear Loadout

• Melee Weapons​
  • XIII​
• Armor​
  • Black Caskan Wolf-Snake Armor​
• Accessories​
  • k​
• Ship​
  • Taciturnitas​

 

[Jak Meridian]

He stopped in his tracks, the crowd now moving around him like a river would a boulder. In his mind he could sense her. Someone far more powerful than him was creeping into the fringes of his mind. It was a sensation few could truly describe. Of course one could use the Force to invade and influence the minds of many beings, but when one Force sensitive invades the mind of another Force sensitive? The sensation, the tension, was indescribable.

In truth he had no idea of what she spoke of- this Obsidian Anathema. But she had made the mistake of mentioning it at all, for an opportunity now presented itself. Despite not knowing what exactly it was he could tell by her words it must've been some object of immense power.

A weapon? An advantage? What, exactly, Jak could not know. He groaned with annoyance as the presence in his head finished speaking.

First he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to open to her. Not fully, of course, but just... enough.

Before her and Jak would be the flashing of a dozen images: bodies charred in the street, the garden up in flames, two Jedi with their lightsabers ignited, and his father. Between each image was the overwhelming sense of rage and of hate. It was a hate so intense and deep thy, he hoped, it would demonstrate to the presence in his mind that he was not just some Sith fodder.

The instant the assault of memories had ended was when he finally reached out with his own voice, "I don't know what you're talking about." Honesty, a trait not many Sith had. "But if it's an advantage against the enemy, I'll gladly help discover it."

The enemy. Such a simple term. His mind, closed off again, thought momentarily on the word. Would she assume he meant the Jedi? The High Republic? He shrugged it off before continuing down the street, his mind now searching for the uninvited presence. It didn't matter what she thought. Their enemies, for the most part, were the same.

Darth Keres