Populate Outbound Flight: The Darkness Within [THR Populate of Adras]

[Dominic Praxon]

Her voice cut through the oppressive, damning static in his head. Dominic felt a stillness wash over him.

But the name lingered in the air between them longer than any other word she had spoken. Bastila.

For a moment the docking bay seemed to shrink around him. The distant groan of the station’s metal skeleton echoed through the hull like something ancient shifting in its sleep, but Dominic heard none of it. His attention had narrowed to the single, impossible realization now unraveling in his mind.

She knew her. Not as rumour or passing acquaintance. Quinn knew Bastila. The softness in Quinn’s voice when she spoke the Jedi’s name betrayed familiarity. Worse than familiarity. Something warmer. Something dangerously close to affection.

Dominic’s thoughts twisted into sharp and uncomfortable shapes.

Bastila had always lingered at the edge of his life like a star that refused to dim, no matter how many times he turned away from it. Three times he had refused her. Three times she had returned with that same earnest hope that made refusal feel almost like cruelty. It had become an unspoken certainty in the back of his mind, an arrogant little truth he had never voiced aloud.

She would always be there. A constant. An option. And now that confidence cracked.

Had she spent enough time near a Sith that the woman spoke of her like this? Had Bastila allowed herself to drift so close to the shadow that someone like Quinn could speak her name with quiet fondness? Or worse. Had Bastila chosen it?

The thought struck Dominic with a sudden, irrational sharpness. A flash of something almost childish in its possessiveness coiled in his chest before he could smother it. Ridiculous.

And yet the fear lingered.

He became dimly aware of Quinn’s presence closer now, the faint brush of the Force moving across his thoughts like cool water against fevered skin. The suffocating pressure at the edges of his mind retreated just enough for him to breathe again. Dominic exhaled slowly.

For the first time since the shuttle had arrived, the darkness pressing against the corners of his awareness loosened its grip. Quinn’s presence acted against whatever malevolence sought his downfall. It was dangerous, but necessary.

His gaze shifted toward her at last, the sharp tension in his posture easing by the smallest degree. “She…will have to be a conversation for another time,” he said quietly, the name Bastila left unspoken but hanging unmistakably in the space between them.

He needed something rational, and largely free of tumult on which to cling. Her question about the databases offered exactly that.

Dominic turned back toward the console beside the viewport, fingers moving across its surface with renewed purpose.

“The financial registries,” he said, his voice steadier now, “I need to see the trade manifests, ownership transfers, subsidiary filings…anything that cause someone official to start looking into our dealings.”

The gas giant beyond the glass churned slowly, a vast crimson storm turning silently in the void.

“If your assurances prove correct,” Dominic continued, forcing his thoughts into the familiar architecture of political analysis, “we will have taken a step in the right direction towards something...similar...to trust.”

Quinn Varanin​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Dominic Praxon //:
//: Attire //:

Unfortunately for Dominic, Quinn could feel it. She could feel the frustration and the emotions that tightened in his chest. There was something there that she had feared, but didn't want to acknowledge. While he perhaps wanted to know more, Quinn wanted to know nothing. She wanted to remain ignorant of what occurred and why this man felt the way he did.

She could feel his eyes on her for the moment, searching for an answer. Somehow, Quinn had left too much on the table — in her hopes of comforting him in this horrid environment, she created a bigger mess, potentially doing the opposite of what she wanted to do. Her lips pursed, trying to ensure that she said nothing more in particular about the Jedi acquaintance they both shared.

His stubbornness made it hard to protect him, but she allowed more of her focus to linger on protecting his mind. Whatever this entity was, she would endure; she was always able to endure. Exhaling softly, she felt his tension ease momentarily, enough to hear him mention once more about Bastila… without saying her name.

Quinn paused. She thought about removing the memory. His mind was open to her; she had access, and he wouldn't feel a thing. It would just be a few minutes lost. It would protect Bastila, it would protect whatever they had between them. Even further… she could make him forget, erase, everything…

Her eyes shut quickly, no. She couldn't do something like that — even if what she was feeling from him felt ill towards the Jedi, she could never take that away from someone. He would be watched and carefully stepped around. Bastila's words echoed quietly in her mind…

“Quinn…I can’t…not here.”

“You’re not what I expected,” she admitted quietly. “Sith aren’t supposed to… to smile like that.”

So many small moments, but they held something for the Echani. Maybe she was the foolish one, hoping for something — hoping for someone to save her from herself.

“I want…You have no idea how much. But not now.”

She opened her eyes, and for a brief moment, Dominic was not there, and she was looking at the woman's chestnut hair, carefully braided, intricate. She smiled as she whispered once more, as a pain bloomed in her chest.

“The financial registries,” he said, his voice steadier now, “I need to see the trade manifests, ownership transfers, subsidiary filings…anything that cause someone official to start looking into our dealings.”

Then his words cut through the small fantasy, and the sudden pain subsided as she cleared her throat.

"I don't know who you're referring to…" she responded in the same quiet tone as he did.

He continued, the conversation shifting back to the documentation he needed to verify. Quinn grew annoyed, but she welcomed the distraction in the mundane. She looked at her device, searching for the information he needed.

“You’re trying very hard to hold back.”

Suddenly, a flash of violet light from the corner of her eye made her look up and over her shoulder. Nothing, but what followed was the heat again, the flames from her childhood licked at the back of her neck.

It's an illusion, it's not real… ignore it…

She focused again and flicked her finger a few times to send the information to the console he worked at.

"It's all there, verify it, and we can move on… learning to trust each other…" She ran her fingers carefully through her blonde hair, each strand falling away like silk as she waited.

"I want you to make note, I kept my word, and I am protecting your mind… but you should get some rest, Senator… you seem strained."

 

[Tatiana Sah]

Tatiana strode along the catwalk with her helmed head slowly swung from one side to the next. "Curious. There is almost a pattern to the waves of frequencies. This chamber would seem to amplify their effect. Perhaps even channel it. Though the design does not appear to support such a function." There might be more mechanisms within the wall itself. Or perhaps an element or material blended into its construction?

"Optical illusions," Knight Sah said, though the observations made behind her probably hadn't been meant for her.

Or so she believed. Tatiana suddenly stopped and pivoted ninety degrees with her blue eyes directed at a specific spot on the chamber wall. Though no one would probably know it, her attention was directed back at the ship where others awaited word from the expedition.

"The effect is being amplified, but directed outward. Away from the machine," she remarked suddenly. There was a telepathic echo or quality to it, or perhaps in the way it interacted with the minds of those elsewhere. Whatever the case, Tatiana could feel it. But what was its purpose?

Her head snapped to the side to stare at the Machine once more. How could they make contact with it? Perhaps if she interfaced with it physically.

Sela Basran | Corazona von Ascania | Caelian Tane | Luke Montann | Kaia Starchaser

 

[Dominic Praxon]

The console chimed softly as the files arrived, cascading across the display in orderly columns of trade registries, manifests, and corporate shells that nested within one another. Dominic stared at them, but his attention lingered somewhere else entirely.

The pressure in his skull had eased. Not vanished, but noticeably diminished. The planet still loomed beyond the viewport like a bleeding wound in the cosmos, its crimson storms roiling with silent menace. The sensation that something watched him remained. But the fog that had wrapped itself around his thoughts had thinned.

He noticed it the way a drowning man notices the sudden absence of water in his lungs.

Slowly, Dominic exhaled. His eyes lifted from the console and drifted toward Quinn. A look of surprise, confusion and even...gratitude.

Curious. He thought.

For a moment he said nothing, studying her with the same careful scrutiny he reserved for hostile senate committees. His fingers rested on the console edge, unmoving. Then a quiet breath of something almost like dry amusement escaped him.

Dominic leaned back slightly, folding one arm across his chest in a passive, unconscious check on his heart rate. "The last place I expected to feel...safer," he continued quietly, "was in the presence of Sith royalty."

A faint crease formed between his brows, as if the sentence itself offended his lifelong assumptions. "And yet." His eyes flicked once more toward the swirling red world outside. "Here we are."

The irony hung in the air.

His attention returned to the console, finally saving the incoming data so he could later give it the scrutiny it deserved. He scanned the opening registries, his mind slipping easily back into the comfortable machinery of finance and logistics.

Numbers were honest things. They lied often, but always in ways that could be proven.

After a few moments he nodded once, almost to himself. "This will help," he said. There was genuine appreciation in the words, though his tone remained measured.

"A night's rest," he continued, "and putting several million kilometers between ourselves and this world would likely improve my disposition considerably."

He pulled himself together, with a tug on his stiff tunic. His fingers tapped the console once more, closing several of the files.

"For the record," he added calmly, glancing toward her, "I do appreciate that you kept your word." The admission sounded like it had passed through several layers of stubborn pride before reaching the air.

The question of Bastila still lingered in the air, his lips parting with the thought of her on the breath that escaped. But he closed his mouth, and his mind to the possibility of discussing it further. She was a terrorist's daughter...after all. It should not matter to him where she wandered, and with whom.

Quinn Varanin​

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Mechanical Room- Somewhere
@Open
​

"This guy has a death wish, even more so than I do." Elian mused as he rerouted some eletrical wiring that had long been charred and was causing issues to this level of the Outbound Flight. "The problem is, this requires routine maintenance, not just a simple come check on it once a month. If this proceeded any further we would have to replace this whole system, panel included."

Elian didn't really pay attention to their response, there was a few technical personnel there with him. Far older than he was, yet the seventeen year old was doing their job better than the four of them combined. He let out a small sigh as he closed the panel and then rerouted the power back.

"There, done and done. May the power protect you, or force be with you. Or however in the hell that saying goes."

​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Dominic Praxon //:
//: Objective I //:

Maybe Quinn should have accepted the carefully crafted compliment. But she was used to things being said to her like that; she was used to the way he looked at her — all of them expecting her to sprout demonic wings and eat their souls. She sighed softly under her breath as she let him continue to speak. It wasn't a good feeling to be studied in a way that those who had their assumptions did.

It was a reminder that no matter how much she tried, she could never outrun the spots she was born with.

He seemed pleased, which meant that everything was in order. His little, clean, and pristine image was clear of the nasty Sith stain that she was. Quinn, of course, kept the comment to herself; there was no reason to rock the boat of this mild understanding between them.

She looked elsewhere, avoiding his gaze as she hated the way most looked at her. Though she sought to defend herself somewhat.

"Well, not all of us are monsters…" Quinn murmured, trying to find the humor in it. Deep down, she knew what she was; she was no better than the Sith that killed because they could. Often, she could feel the churn of the phobis device. As she became older, it grew stronger. A part of her wondered if it fed off of her, which is why the insatiable Force of hunger always lingered.

Her eyes closed at the thought; thinking about it only made it more obvious. After a few moments and some more words from the man, she nodded.

"We are business partners, even if I'm in the shadows." Another nod as she looked towards the world he had brought attention to. The Force pulsed, and she felt it, that darkness crawling up her spine, latching around her throat.

Whispers of doubt and thoughts of how she could fix all of this shift its trajectory. She didn't listen. Mostly because she could recognize the dark voices. They were the same ones who talked to her when she was at her lowest, when they wanted control…

When she needed their power.

Quinn looked away and pinched the bridge of her nose. "How much longer are you scheduled to remain here?" She wanted to leave right away, but her gut told her otherwise. The last thing either of them needed was for the Senator to lose his mind to whatever was haunting them and tell all their secrets.

Tell her secrets, any of the ones he had gleaned from their connection. Thankfully, she figured she was safe. Despite not looking, she never thought he was sensitive.

Even if he didn't say it, she could feel it in the air around them. He wanted to talk about Bastila; he wanted to dig into the essence of their relationship. Quinn didn't give him anything, her back slowly turning towards him as she suddenly felt the warmth of the woman's lips against hers — even if briefly. A hand rested for a moment, touching lightly against her red-stained lips.

Quinn dropped her hand and returned to looking at the world they were near.

Whatever this thing was, it was starting to annoy her.

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

Her droid was doing a lot of the work right now. The Starchaser was more than happy to have her droid around, and while Drifter was a decent co-pilot and stored too much navigation data for a probe, his/its programming was more for this type of exploration. Looking at the gathered team, she was more than happy to be working with like minded beings.

“Something is here, yeah, but we can’t let that scare us off, of the adventure!”

She was more chipper when she wasn’t planetside. She preferred to be among the stars. Sure, there was something amiss here, but she was more worried about not seeing what this thing was all about. As Sah spoke, Kaia returned a nod and looked up. Drifter twirled and tweeted positively as it literally drifted ahead.

“Stay safe…” She ordered the droid as she turned to the other Forcer, wasn’t she from one of the other outlying Enclaves?

“Its an odd feeling, but interesting. Something to find and seek.” Warden of the Sky over Jedi, obviously.

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Objective II
Aboard the Vel'serenne | Diplomtich Naboo Vessel
Directly: Aurelian Veruna
Indirectly: Feel free to comm any updates to us! Sela Basran Tatiana Sah

Aurelian did not mention Cassian.

Maybe that was deliberate. Or maybe that was just his way of trying to comfort in the only way he knew how -- by distracting her with his sass and commentary regarding the looming problem in front of them, as though focus alone might make the rest of it… bearable.

And to his credit, it was what they should be doing.

It was just that Sibylla simply had never been particularly good at should when it came to the people she loved.

Was this all a setup for Cassian to go undercover again? Could it be related to his work? To Thessay? No, Aurelian would have made mention of it if he'd noticed anything regarding his sister. That he had instead cracked a comment regarding Senator Praxton and another ancient relic told her that Thessaly, at least, wasn't the case in Cassian's disappearance.

Her attention rose to him despite herself, her gaze settling upon him with a quiet, treacherous familiarity. It traced over the sharp lines of his face, the ease of his posture, the dark forelocks that refused to stay put and fell just slightly across his brow. She recalled how he used to slick them back, keeping them neatly in place during his time as Senator of Plooroid III, all polish and presentation as he climbed toward power.

Now…now he let it fall as it pleased. More him. Had he changed his routine?

Not that she minded, for she found herself running her fingers through it more often than naught.

Focus, she told herself, as she dragged her attention firmly and deliberately back to the matter at hand.

"The Republic needs resources," Sibylla said, clearing her throat before continuing. "Raw materials. Power. Something that ensures we are not forever reacting to the next crisis but capable of meeting at our borders -- much like that artifact you found on Naboo. Any updates on that?"

Once again, for a few seconds, her thoughts threatened to fracture again, rolling over the fact that Cassian was missing, Elian was wounded, and at every turn, it seemed as if the galaxy was refusing to give her even a single moment of peace.

"If this artifact offers anything resembling defensive capability," she continued a bit more quietly now, "it would be… advantageous."

Then in a softer tone threaded with dry, exhausted wit:

"…though I would prefer, this time, that it not come with an accompanying pantheon of gods to negotiate with."

Sibylla brought her fingers up and pressed briefly to her brow, feeling the weight of it all, before she gave an exhale and straightened her shoulders. With a subtle gesture, the holographic array bloomed to life between them in blue light, scattering across her features and catching in the intricate braids woven back from her face.

"The current team includes both Jedi and scientific specialists," she said, tone returning to that precise, diplomatic cadence she wore like armor.

A map of what had been charted so far was in the center, but to the right were the team names, gently scrolling in quiet procession.

She did not point to the obvious. She did not need to, because she knew the moment Aurelian's gaze would catch Jedi Knight Corazona von Ascania , odds were he would have something to say about it.