Secrets of Steel (Rave Merrill)

[Asemir]

Asemir Lor'kora took a sip from his blue ginger tea and smiled as he savored the bitter sweet taste. The Green Quillar was a new trendy caff shop that served the type of arrogant clientele that really irritated Ademir, but the establishment surely served some of the best tea this side of the galaxy. The Forgotten wasn't sure if it was their proprietary brewing techniques or the quality of the tea leaves, but the cafe really did a good job. It was almost worth having to deal with the snobbish patrons.

Almost.

The Forgotten took another sip and looked around. Traveling to the Tion Cluster had been a welcome change to his usual hunting duties, but the trip was more business than pleasure. The Cluster was home to thousands of corporations and was arguably one of the wealthiest places in the galaxy, but Asemir was after only one.

It had taken him more effort than he would have liked, but he had finally arranged a meeting with the famed alchemist [member="Rave Merrill"]. Asemir hoped the woman would be able to unlock the forging of his signature weapon, but with her reputation, he was confident she would be successful.

The Forgotten filled his glass from the ornamental tea lit and watched the steam rising from the green liquid. He hoped Rave would show up soon.

[member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

Rave considered herself a professional. When circumstance necessitated that she drive a speeder truck of unusual mass, then, in order to make it to her meeting on time, she found herself irritated. And also slightly deafened, because the truck was full of a very specific form of energetic livestock. The exterior walls already showed signs of deformative impact from inside, and more dents were on their way. Hardly the best image to project when meeting a man who could kill her in ten seconds or less. As a girl, she'd seen him take down Valkner in the Unknown Regions. The Anzati pedophile had gone so far as to raise an army of undead youth from beneath the Sith Academy's parade grounds.

Asemir had put them all to rest, one flawless maneuver at a time, and then killed Valkner despite the Anzati's monstrous telekinesis. That had been a good day. But she'd been one among a hundred then, much younger than she was now, and there was little to no chance he would remember her.

In the more recent past, Rave had watched a recording of Ashin Varanin's coup. She'd seen Asemir humble Reyven Samoth despite the latter's ridiculous power.

She took her seat across from Asemir without ceremony. "When people come to me," she said, apropos of nothing, "when Masters come to me, they come to offer me payment of one form or another for what I can make them. I was one of the Apprentices present the day you killed Rolf Valkner. I owe you. Ask what you will."

The truck jostled outside as an unseen infant terentatek bodyslammed its hatchmates.

 

[Asemir]

The Forgotten looked the girl in the face as he filled a tea cup for her, trying to jostle his memory of her. She looked vaguely familiar, but then again, she resembled a half million other Human females in the galaxy. No, he couldn't recall ever having met Rave in person. Ziost had been ages ago, a life time ago. Not to mention his mind had been (rightfully) preoccupied with putting down a very powerful Anzati. If she had been present for his duel against the Headmaster, she must have been only a spectator.

"Ah, the galaxy is a small, small world," Asemir said with a smile. "I'm glad to know that I was able to save someone from Valkner. It's always encouraging to see life grow from bloodshed." The Ingr'Nysk reached under the table and brought up a sheathed sword. He set the obviously ancient blade on the table, ignoring the other customers as they watched the duo curiously.

The sword's scabbard was of leather that had been cured in the blood of long-extinct beasts. The black hide reflected no light, and yet still seemed to shimmer ever so slightly, creating a misty-shadow effect. Asemir gently pulled the scabbard free, revealing the smoke-black blade and its cerulean edge. The blade itself was etched with runes from a bygone era, in a language he couldn't read.

"This is Night Terror. It is the blade that ended Valkner's life." Asemir scooted the sword carefully towards Rave. He had no fear that she would damage the blade or try to use it against him. Her mastery of alchemy would recognize it for the prize it was. Her presence at Valkner's death would tell her that Asemir was as dangerous without his sword as he was with.

"I was gifted this blade by the headmistress of my temple. It was gifted to her by her master. I believe it is over a thousand years old." Asemir pointed at the edge. "It's never gone dull, and I've yet to sharpen it. In fact, I don't recall my teachers ever having taught us to sharpen a songblade."

He looked back up at Rave. "I know songblades are imbued with the powers of the Force, with alchemy, but I don't know how that is done. I figure if anyone could discover the secrets of the blade, you would be able to. Along the way, I also wish to learn alchemy because I know that one of these days, Night Terror will break or become damaged, and I'll have to replace her. Or I'll need to craft a backup weapon. Can you teach me how to create a blade like this?"

[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

She examined the blade without touching it, eyes half-lidded. "Always wanted to take a look at a songblade. I'm honored. There's so few surviving examples of mastercraft from Sith alchemy, let alone from your people's tradition, and I'm always willing to examine other traditions. You wouldn't believe the things I learned from incorporating elements of ancient Force-imbued bladesmithing into my alchemy.

"Also, if you're worried about destructive testing, don't be. If there's one thing I know, it's how to examine an alchemical item without damaging it." Her hand closed at last around the songblade's handle, and she sighted down the edge. Outside, the truck shook as infant terentateks took each other to task. "To replicate it, though, I suspect I'm going to have to do something special. Apart from your blood, of course -- for a songblade, I'm fairly sure I won't be able to make do without at least a quart of ingr'nysk blood. But in any case, my plan is to take you and the sword to my secret forge, the relocated Dark Forge of Aza'zoth, on Kelsier. I hope you own winter clothes. The forge may be hot enough to melt beskar, but it's in the middle of the tundra."

 

[Asemir]

"Tundra?" Asemir echoed. He grinned. "That'll be fine. I'm sure I can find some clothes somewhere. As for the blood, well, that shouldn't be a problem, but a quart is a bit much. I assume you don't need that much blood all at once?" Just then, Rave's truck took a nasty hit from the inside, and metal screeched as the vehicle almost tipped over. The Forgotten glanced at the commotion. "Is that your vehicle? What are you transporting? Rancors?"

[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"]
"No need to take the blood all at once, no." The songblade thudded back to the tabletop as Rave rose, fishing out her wallet. She'd underestimated their resolve or overestimated the speeder truck; too much of a ruckus could draw law enforcement attention she'd rather avoid. "It's mine, yes. Sorry to cut this short, but the truck apparently isn't as durable as I was told.

"Juvenile terentateks," she amplified, opting to leave a generous tip in lieu of business lost in the thoroughly intimidated parking lot. "A half dozen of them. My best breeding stock, from all new bloodlines -- new to me, anyway."

 

[Asemir]

The Forgotten rose as well. "Terentateks... I can't say I'm familiar with those." He shook his head. "I'll let you take care of those beasts. Do you have a ship to get to Kelsier? When do you plan on casting off?"

OOC:
I figure, pending Rave's response, we can "end the chapter" and begin on the next day on the ship or something. Your thoughts?

[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

"Oh, I have a ship, all right."

***

The ensuing day would find Asemir and Rave bound for Kelsier aboard a unique vessel, clad in Mandalorian iron inside and out, protected by a single-blind cloaking device, its halls laced with autoturrets and its beskar vaults full of holocrons. The culmination of many trades, many deals, many applications of leverage, it was, she knew, very much over-the-top. It also held, in its cavernous hold, the Dark Forge of Aza'zoth. A ventilation hood and an industrial-strength air purifier, both as temporary as the immense stone forge, rounded out the hold's contents, and she'd put a couple million credits' worth of nullification resin around the hold for now, to shield the forge's Dark Side nexus from prying senses.

"Sadly, using it in space, away from a planet's Force presence, just doesn't work nearly as well. Once I install it on Kelsier, near the marginally more fauna-rich equator regions, it'll have a degree of sustenance. I'm honestly not sure how well it'll work. Aza'zoth was a dead world, but it was surrounded by a Force storm, so..." Rave shrugged eloquently. "This is an experiment without precedent."

 

[Asemir]

"You're going to have to explain all of this to me," Asemir said. He gestured towards the forge, the cavernous hold and all of the other mysterious Force-related artifacts. "I can do a few things well. Killing, terrorism, bounty hunting. But not the theoretical side of the Force." He snapped his fingers and a spark of electricity leaped from his hands. "Velok taught me enough to augment my fighting skills, but anything deeper than that is lost on me.

"Why does a forge need sustenance? You mentioned a Force storm, so I take it it feeds on the Force, but why is that?" The Forgotten considered that. "In fact, it'd probably be best if you started from the beginning of what Force alchemy is. I know the end results. But that's it. Normal, traditional alchemy works with various chemicals and the like. But Force alchemy? I've got no clue."

[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

"Everywhere I go, I find Velok's footprints," said Rave. "I was his lab assistant for a good while, for one, and in so many other ways..."

She left the thought unfinished as the forge dominated her attention. "Materials alchemy has been known to create items that have a form of life to them, or at least a nutritional analogue to something like, say, a tree. The Dark Forge, like most alchemical apparatus of this type, was designed to harness the ambient Force and amplify your focus and power. To extend the metaphor a little, a machine like this draws strength from the cosmic Force like a tree draws from sunlight and rain, and produces fruit -- energy efficiently packaged and more easily usable. Granted, this particular fruit is thorny, and one has to know what one's doing -- it's not a perfect metaphor."

 

[Asemir]

"So this forge is a tool to amplify your Force abilities." Asemir examined the stone forge, and aside from the obvious apparatuses attached to it, the fume hoods and the like, it didn't look spectacular. But looks we're deceiving, and it felt different. It pulsed, gently, barely noticeably, and beckoned towards the Forgotten.

Asemir returned his attention to Rave. "Where does my blood come into all of this? You said you'd need it to replicate the alchemy. I take it it's a reagent for the ritual?"

[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

"You could say that. Some things are naturally strong in the Force - animals, substances, parts of Force-sensitive people. But from another perspective, it works because it matters to you. Alchemical achievements require significance of some kind or other. My most lacklustre attempts are impersonal proof-of-concept things, or items I produce in serious numbers, for publicity and capital. My most impressive things are personal. This blade will be as personal to you as mine is to me."

She drew Entropy with a hiss of songsteel on terentatek leather, and handed it over pommel-first. "One element, one important element, of alchemy is being able to sense the nature of a thing. An alchemist's senses are, in a way, comparable to psychometry. You have to be able to understand the purpose and potential of an item or substance in order to use it for good alchemy. See if you can divine what this is and what it's for."

 

[Asemir]

[member="Rave Merrill"]

OOC: Sorry for the delay. Been really busy at work and RL.

Asemir took the sword and instantly recognized the power of the blade. It wasn’t that he was masterfully attuned to the properties of the weapon or its creation, but that he could feel its expert craftsmanship, from its forever-sharp edge to the exotic materials mated superbly from forte to pommel. He sighted down its meter-length, noting the fineness of its cutting edge, and with a flick of the wrist, gave Entropy a flourish. This was a sword masterfully crafted sword, perfectly balanced, and absolutely unique. Not unlike the songblades created in the forges of the Temple.

But that was the physical properties of the weapon. There was more to Entropy, and it wasn’t because Rave had told him so. Asemir could sense the power. He closed his eyes slightly, reaching out with the Force, and found the pulsing aura of the weapon. It was subtle, yet not, hovering at the edge of his consciousness but also seething to be returned to its master. There was guardianship, as if Entropy was alive, the weapon yearning to protect its creator.

But there was more, something at odds with the Force creation. While Entropy bled with obvious Force imbuement, its aura fluctuated like a pumping heart. It wasn’t that the Force diminished with each pulse, but that the Force simply wasn’t there. It appeared and disappeared with each ebb and flow. How odd, the Forgotten mused as he examined the blade with his mind’s eye. Masterfully crafted, in tune with yet also at odds with the Force. Interesting. Yet vaguely familiar.

The Forgotten took a step back from Rave, to place some distance between them, and then dove into a couple of quick sword-katas. As his body moved from muscle memory, his mind focused on Entropy, watching it as if it were the living creature it appeared to be. The sword’s essence, its desire and purpose, did not change, as if it could not care less about the flourishes, slashes, and movement. So different from his songblade.

Asemir returned to his starting stance, and ventured a guess. “Well, it’s a sword, masterfully crafted and imbued with the Force. That much is obvious. But there’s more to it. I touched it with the Force, and it had this feel to it, this longing, as if it were a guard dog protecting its master. And it doesn’t seem to react to any of the martial skills, like it doesn’t care. But it also seems to exist yet not exist within the Force. Very interesting.”

He handed Entropy back to its owner, pommel first. “If I had to guess, I’d say it has some properties to protect against the Force.” Asemir paused, suddenly remembering when and where he had encountered a weapon such as Entropy. “Necroban. Arksis Nan’s sword. I fought against it on Arcanix. It’s got the same taste or feel as Necroban.” With a shudder, he added, “What a nightmare, that sword."

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

Rave managed a smile without heart. De gustibus non est disputandi, she told herself, but even so, she'd trained with enough blademasters to know that Asemir's opinion of Entropy wasn't as high as hers. She wasn't sure what she'd expected; she certainly hadn't expected to feel slightly offended by his comparison to the sword that disgusted him. She put that aside as she put aside most emotion, just flipping the switch into a professional straight-line connection between the conditions of the moment and the effect that needed to be brought about. To wit: a sword. Not the kind of sword she'd have made for herself, but a blade that fit everything about how Asemir Lor'kora thought, felt, and moved.

"I've heard of Necroban," she said evenly, sheathing Entropy. "Beautiful work, in a gigeresque sort of way. I'm not fond of tumors as a weapon, but the principle of applying apex harm only at the moment the blade is withdrawn -- there's something inefficient yet horror-inducing about that. Made to intimidate third parties, perhaps. You'll find my inorganic work a little more focused than anything the Cult of Shadow cooked up. Organically, I'll admit, they crafted some gems. Arcanix Corruptors were works of art."

She recognized her digression - maybe emotion wasn't so easily subsumed after all - and took her hand from the pommel. "I'll have a crewer show you to a berth. Feel free to explore the ship, though there's not much to see. The Lethewalker, apart from all this in the hold, is a glorified gunboat. She's fast, though," Rave admitted. "Our trip shouldn't take long."

***

In due course, less than a week, a series of Wild Space switchbacks dropped them out of hyperspace in a quaternary system. A toroid of gas and dust surrounded the two system primaries; the Lethewalker dove into it without hesitation.

"My fallback base is here," she said, as they watched from the small observation deck. A planet began to resolve out of the starfog; ships or their wakes flitted in the cloud. "Kelsier, it's called. A world that keeps itself as perfectly hidden as it can manage. Its defenders fly cloaked starships; I'm homing in on a stygium deposit of my own, even. Hoping to verify that Kelsier has natural stygium crystal geodes, like Aeten Two."

The Lethewalker cut through a snowstorm in a cocoon of reentry flame, and descended to the frozen world, landing outside a construction site.

"My sanctum sanctorum. The forge'll go over there, about thirty metres down. Once it's in place, we can get to work." Already a handful of powerful load lifters struggled this way through the snow, and passed under the flank of the light frigate.

 

[Asemir]

Asemir nodded. "Kelsier reminds me of the Sith Academy, what with the snow and frozen wasteland. Ziost. Feth, that was ages ago." He watched as the load lifters dragged the forge from the cargo hold of the Lethewalker. They slowly battled against the howling winds and headed to the main compound.

"A question then. I've fought against alchemical weapons. I've seen them in action. They can withstand lightsabers and my songblade. Obviously, the material the sword is forged from is important, but just how much of a sword's properties is based on the metal it's forged from? I've heard stories of masters crafting lightsaber-proof staves from wood. Can you use alchemy to turn something as mundane as wood into something that you can combat lightsabers with?"

OOC:
Sorry, fairly lame post in my opinion, but I need to get back into the swing of this thread. Plus, I'm tired and the baby is crying.

[member="Seren Ordavo"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

Rave concurred, though it took her a few moments to put her thoughts into words. "I chose Kelsier because it's impossible to find, and because its people have cloaking technology. The aesthetics were a tertiary concern...but I do think they had some significance to me at the time. Still do, I suppose. Valkner is a difficult man to forget, and Ziost sticks in the mind even apart from him. I suppose I was looking for a place like that, but one where I had nothing to be afraid of. A place I was in control. So that's what I made.

"Quality of starting material is fairly important. Someone at my level can make wood lightsabre-proof, I've done it before, but...well, let's put it this way. One of my better blades would survive a Base Delta Zero. Alchemized wood wouldn't. But for standard anti-lightsabre use, I can absolutely whip you up something -- tonfa, a short or long staff, even a club or shield. What are you after?"