Sewing Seeds

[Connor Harrison]

Ravelin City
Bastion, Sartinaynian system

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The wheels we certainly in motion now. Pieces falling into place, cogs turning – however many metaphors you could think of. Connor Harrison was taking charge of the path he walked, and it was a time for doing, not just thinking about doing.

His eyes had been opened a great deal, and faces and places new and old had shifted in how he viewed them. The Dark Side, not just surrounding the Sith Empire, but also the First Order and other dark orders had revealed truth and ambition.

So it was only logical that the former Jedi went to the heart of the Order he once had been shunned from; the Sith. Bastion, a former Imperial capital was tucked away in the far north east of the galaxy but surrounded by the creeping shadow of the Empire reaching out to claim everything in its path.

The capital, Ravelin, was like a mini-Coruscant; new and old architecture and design from ground level reaching to the skies. Former temples, palaces, bastions and skyscrapers could be seen on the way in, fixated with the black and crimson emblems of the Sith and their Dark Order.

Connor stepped down into the port from his freighter as a tri-engine ship passed overhead to land opposite. He secured the battered craft that had served him well over the years and inhaled the fresh air. The place was different to the First Order capital he was used to. They were more militaristic. Ravelin was…different. Guards and soldiers in white and crimson were dotted around and as many people held the Sith as barbaric and inhospitable, the city seemed to be thriving around him.

So much was unknown about the Sith bar generations old myth and pre-conceptions, just as the Jedi were. Unless you saw it and lived it, you knew nothing. Which was why Connor had come here; to see it and live it and become it. Being a face many may know as a Master of the Silver Jedi wasn’t going to be an easy shadow to shrug off, or, as Taeli Raaf had reminded him, a wanted prisoner of the Galactic Alliance – a war criminal. The title still made him smile.

It was just a question now of where to start to find what he needed in the sprawling city.

[member=Vereshin]

 

[Vereshin]

Static fluttered on the massive holo-screen above the Ravelin space port. The Dark Side fueled lightning storms interfered with frequencies across the sector and Vereshin blinked in time with the static, trying to catch the screen in a moment of clarity for his own amusement. He stood in the queue of a small storefront of the spaceport and waited to buy cigarettes, having run out along the journey to Bastion. His eyes scanned over a magazine stand displaying title relating to science and magic and heavily conflicted presence gripped the spaceport. Vereshin's eyes widened in intrigue as he moved forward behind the next customer and placed the box of cigarettes on the counter.

In his pocket lay a data file he waited to send to [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] to comfort her in her time of grief. Attached to the letter was an imbuing spell she may use to strengthen herself physically. As Vereshin placed his credit chit on the counter, the powerful presence drifted and he grabbed the cigarette box and scurried away to follow. He caught the sight of a man, seemingly lost among the city, his Force signature seething with traces of light and dark nonetheless. The Sith communicated his own dark aura, which was too laced with signs of love and other emotions. He passed by the post office and slid the data file to Pom to a service droid, who transported it to her address.

Flowing dresses of nobles, accompanied by civilian attire and a melting pot of species passed them by as Vereshin followed the man out of intrigue. Was he in search of the Sith? A student waiting to be corrupted? The sorcerer remained eager to pass on his knowledge and recruit a fellow into his arts. As the man waited outside the spaceport for his transport, Vereshin caught up to him and stood by his side. He said nothing at first, instead opening the cigarette box and sliding a cylinder between his teeth.

"Are you lost, Sir?" He finally spoke and displayed his affiliation with the Force by snapping his fingers to create a lavender flame. The discrete trace of fire hovered above his finger tips as he raised it to the end of he cigarette, leaving an orange glow behind. He blew out the flame and inhaled deeply, blowing smoke into the opposite direction of the stranger. "If it is the Sith you seek, I may be able to assist." Vereshin offered and suggested his associated with the order.

[member="Connor Harrison"]