Private Some Assembly Required

[The Battalion]

Wearing: Channeler's Skin

Consort's Ring

Armed With: Electrodes (Purple Lightfoil Daggers)

Objective: Search the Tomb Library of Darth Mammon

Current Persona: The Assembly (See Bio)

The Consort's armor fit snugly, the Assembly had noticed as she strolled throuugh the Halls of Darth Mammon's converted Palace, the snow battering the stained glass windows of the converted palace, now a giant technologically advanced apartment complex.

All the Witches inside the Battalion's body were considered a package deal. To be married to one Witch in the body was to be married to all of the Witches in that body. But some Witches showed more often than others.

The Assembly was one of the most prominent Witches within The Battalion. Second in rank only to Elaine herself. A good chunk of the Battalion's sadism came from her.

Most of the lower ranking citizens didn't want to be alone with her for more than thirty seconds. But everyone recognized how skilled and dangerous the Consort was. The Nuetralizers had stopped making cracks about her being 'Mother's Squeeze'.

The Witch smiled as she came across one of House Io's most notable veterans, a Soldier named Ted Forrest, in one of the passages getting candy from an old vending machine.

"Citizen Forrest..." The Assembly called out pleasantly as she approached.

Ted went still at the site of the Consort. Blinked a few seconds.

"Consort." he said formally, standing at attention, the primitive part of his brain silently screaming at him to find any excuse he could to get away from her. All Cultists terrified him. But he was too jaded to display such fear, no matter how it curdled in him at the sight of her. Her beauty did NOT fool him. He saw past it quite clearly.

"No need for such formalities at the moment, Citizen..." The Assembly purred, not sensing his almost numbing terror due to how expertly he hid it. "You acquitted yourself outstandingly at Tython. I was actually disappointed you didn't speak at the hearing."

"There was nothing I could have contributed." Ted claimed.

"I disagree..." The Assembly replied in a casual, friendly manner, taking a few steps closer. As with so many citizens in this close a proximity to a Cultist, there was that half second of war in the flight or fight response.

The fact she was the Consort MIGHT be an extra curtain of safety. But he didn't trust any Cultist. Not even the one the Matriarch was married to.

"I feel your imput would have brought a vital focus on the ground element of how our House has suffered for Tython. I of course am aware of the circumstances behind your new..."

The Assembly's purple eyes slid to his slender hand that didn't match the other, surrounded by a cybernetic brace.

"Attachment..." she finished diplomatically. "I for one, would have been quite interested, especially since you were an example for every other citizen."

"I'm lucky." Ted replied.

"Every Force User knows there is no such thing as luck..." The Assembly replied. "It favors you."

"If you say so, Consort."

"I know so..." The Assembly replied. "So, how is life treating you, Citizen?"

Ted had only a quarter second to think of his response. Laertia's hologram warning all over the City, heck, The Consort's own warnings about the Cult all over the City were firmly in his head:

Do not pass any pens to The Cult of The Brain Demon. Do not pass any pencils to the Cult of The Brain Demon. No Scissors or Paperclips

(Cutaway of Hannibal Lecter doing that weird "Fffffff" sound)

"I'm prosperous."

The Assembly smiled warmly.

"Not what I asked." The dark skinned witch replied smoothly, slinking closer, still with that pleasant expression. Though Ted's expression remained as stony as ever, his terror only increased.

"Someone may be economically stable, but prosperity is more than mere material wealth. So I ask again...how is life treating you?"

"I'm...I have the respect of my brothers and sisters. I have a place. I take my fate into my own hands. So Life is treating me very well, Consort." Ted answered carefully, expressionless, emotions clamped in a mental deathgrip, like the Green Stripes had trained him.

The Consort nodded. "That is good to hear, Citizen. Your bravery was invaluable at Tython. The Cult has not forgotten your valor, nor how critical your assistance was."

"I'm just good at following orders."

"You did more than that at Tython. You enabled the Unholy Miracle of the Brain Demon's manifestation."

Ted showed no reaction to this. The Assembly cocked her head slightly to one side.

"You don't seem surprised."

"I am. Just don't know what it means."

"It means, you have a destiny...to participate in creating such a thing is to be blessed by it. In fact, I was wondering if I might not persuade you to come and visit the temple we are setting up. Purely as a guest, if you like. But we would be more than happy to counsel you if there is ever anything you'd like to talk about that you think only we could understand, we will always be willing to hear your confession--"

"I'll think about it..." he replied nuetrally.

The Assembly looked delighted by his answer.

"I hope you will decide to visit, then." The Witch replied. "I have to run along now, but it was such a pleasure."

"Likewise." he replied stoically.

The Assembly then headed off back to the ritual chamber in her apartment...

When she was out of sight, Ted collapsed against a wall, suffering a panic attack...

 

[The Battalion]

The Assembly watched as her wife, Darth Xiphos, manifested the Lightning upon a victim. The Consort, no matter who was in control of the body, forbade her wife from using test dummies when it came to the Darkness. Live victims were used for the training, always. Followed by meditation and prayer to the Unholy Spirit. She watched, giving critique on the delivery, and best tactical use of the power before calling it quits, as watching her Wife electrocute both Mawites and Jedi had made her hungry.

But even though it may be a random Witch in her Wife's body guiding the instruction...

...it was still usually Elaine who ended up making dinner.

Unusually, Xiphos had picked the Battalion's ritual chamber (There was nothing in her faith that forbade this gesture) for having dinner in. It had been a pleasant surprise for The Consort, who had just finished her own brutal torture session in there. The walls were sloshed in blood and gore, contrasting the pleasant candlelit table that had been set up, the pair sitting very close together. Xiphos, gaunt and with a body so broken it could only remain a few hours out of her powered armor before she would lose the ability to walk, was clad in a simple black robe, moving around eating utensils with black scarred fingertips. The Assembly had momentarily taken a backseat to Elaine, who ate right next to Xiphos rather than across the table. The Battalion had made fried Corellian White Eggplant with peas. It had been a pleasant meal so far in the chamber soaked in blood and viscera. Both were used to the smells.

"I have a question, but I'm worried it will ruin dinner."

"Honey, we're eating in a freshly used Torture Chamber. That question would have to try pretty hard to sour my stomach." The Battalion replied casually. "Shoot."

"Do you ever think about your old students? From when you were just Elaine?"

The Battalion took a bite of her eggplant, thinking.

"Why do you ask?"

"Did you ever feel guilt over it?"

"Over killing them all?"

"Do you?"

She thought about it a moment.

"Not at the time." she admitted. "But I'll admit..."

She paused, carved features crinkling in contemplation.

"Talking with you...has made me reflect on it more than I have in the past. I mean...I still like hurting people...but if I had a chance to do it over..."

The Battalion sighed, blood from the ceiling dripped onto her plate.

"I honestly don't know what I would do..." she admitted, in a sullen tone.

She decided to speak more on the subject.

"I never told you this, but remember when we journeyed into the Netherrealm to fight The Bryn? I ran into their spirits..."

There was a silence between them for a moment as they are. Not an uncomfortable one.

"Did they say anything to you?" Xiphos asked.

"No..." The Battalion answered, eating more eggplant.

She frowned slightly. "I wanted them to...in would have been easier. But they just...stared..."

More blood dripped into her plate from the ceiling.

"I am aware the way of the Sith requires a certain relentless drive...but don't think some requirements to truly grow don't require sacrifice."

"I think I am well acquainted with it by this point."

"Are you?" The Battalion asked.

"You don't think I am?

The Battalion put her fork down, turning to face her wife.

"Julia... would you kill me to preserve House Io?"

"Without blinking." Xiphos answered.

"An easy decision to make. Your wife for your faction. I get that. But what about simply killing me just to grow in power?"

Silence.

"That is the reality you must come to understand the most. That when it comes down to it, you must be prepared to sacrifice even me to stay powerful. Or to grow in power. Just as I must be prepared to do the same. For only with power will you keep what is yours."

"What if I want to keep you?" Xiphos asked.

"Well then..." The Battalion replied, running a hand across Xiphos' gaunt face. "I suppose that's just a risk you're gonna have to accept, won't you?"

Xiphos smiled, held out a piece of eggplant, impaled by a fork, that had been hit with blood from the ceiling. The Battalion bit dowm, sliding the eggplant off the fork and chewing.

Meanwhile...


Ted, after he had composed himself, was heading back to his own apartment, hoping no one had seen him have an attack. When he was inside it's stark, utilitarian setting he shut the door and locked it, thankful he didn't have anyone else living with him. Yet. He thought about getting an apartment on the outskirts of the city of Midas, but there was nowhere he could go that a Brain Demon Cultist wouldn't be able to go also.

He needed to get himself assigned elsewhere. Things were crazier after Dantooine. Xiphos was now rumored to be looking for any way she could find to attack the Jedi Order. He hated them too, but even he thought they needed more of a breather.

He glanced at his left hand, the one amputated from the corpse of an alternate universe version of his wife, fitted with a cybernetic brace to grant it the same level of strength as his other hand. He still thought of that grinning, completely evil version of Darth Xiphos called The Parliament.

His therapy was not helping him.

He went over to his bed, pulled out his box of photos from his old life.

His eyes settled on the photo of him with his wife. Looking at her hurt, but he forced himself to.

He sat on the floor against his bed, contemplating it for over an hour. It was so quiet he could have heard a pin drop from the other side of the room.

Ted put it back, a hard grimace on his face as he shoved the box back under his bed. He was on leave. But most days he kept to a strict routine, which more and more had begun to be altered simply for the sake of keeping as little contact with Cultists as possible.

He couldn't stay in here though. He needed somewhere to go. Somewhere he could think.

Somewhere he could talk to a friend.

Ted didn't like being here by himself.

He was throwing on an old gray duster, something a cousin had given him a long time ago. She had also died at Nar Kreeta. He would never go back to that place. The old him still lay dead there. He grabbed a Sonic Disruptor Pistol and stuffed it under his coat, along with a sawn off double barrel shotgun filled with incendiary shotshell and two frag grenades

Ted walked through the apartment passageways, making note of the security cameras being installed on a the upper corner outside certain apartment doors by one of the General Purpose Nuetralizers, that had attached repeating pistols.

"What's going on here?" Ted asked one of the Androids, each wearing a skintight dark green catsuit.

"Some Citizens have requested a gun camera be installed outside their apartment doors. Anytime a hostile happens to be at the door, you can kill them from a security terminal within your room."

"Oh. How much?"

"One Neodymium Coin."

Ted fished three out and handed them to her.

"Keep the extras. Need it installed by the time I get back, which should be about an hour."

"You got it, Fam..." the Nuetralizer replied as Ted walked away.

Ted was given pause as he saw a shrine in a cleared out alcove. It showed the Avatar of The Brain Demon, an emaciated Togrutan woman with no face and purple skin, depicted in a crude manner, as a figure made from wicker, splashed with purple paint. He saw a young teenager, barely old enough to be elligible for military service, on his knees before the figure, rows of half melted candles around the sculpture.

"Young man..." Ted called out softly, inwardly sickened to see the Cult's goddess worshipped openly. "If its not prying...may I ask what prompts your worship of the Brain Demon?"

The boy turned to him and he went still, seeing the jagged moon carved into his forehead, and knew the boy had done it himself.

"Because The Brain Demon was the reason so many of the House survived. If she had not called forth those tentacles from her realm upon Tython, my Father would not have survived the Maw hoardes about to wipe out his squad. The Brain Demon is the only reason my father lives. Perhaps she will restore my sister to life if I worship her enough."

"I see." Ted said, brow furrowing in sympathy that now mixed with his horror. "Does your father know you worship it?"

"The shock of seeing the Brain Demon's miracles...unfortunately rendered my father insensible. The chaplains were forced to confine him to a psychiatric ward in the center of the city for his own safety. He's recieving the best of care."

"I understand. I'll leave you too it then."

"Brother Forrest?" the Teenager called out as Ted started to walk away. "I have heard the Witches speak of you. They say you enabled the Miracle at Tython."

"I...I was just as surprised by that as anybody else was..." he answered carefully.

"I owe you my father's life then. I'm Grant..." Grant said, holding out his hand.

Ted shook it. "To be honest, I'm not that certain I played such a large part." Ted said. "There was a lot of shooting. I could barely think."

"A Witch told me that those who work the will of the Brain Demon are not always aware of it."

"Huh. Well...I'm not...sure how to respond to that actually."

Grant smiled. "It's okay. They told me that being witness to such things could often leave the witness at a loss for words."

"I should really be going, Grant."

"Oh! Forgive me. So sorry." Grant apologized.

"Don't worry about it..." Ted replied, masterfully avoiding looking at the jagged moon cut on Grant's forehead.

"Hey, Brother Ted, I got a favor to ask..." Grant said, clearly nervous.

"What is it?"

"Well...the Cult is about to hold their First Mass in a few days...but I'm not old enough under House Law to enter a Brain Demon Temple by myself...so I was wondering if you might put in a word with the Consort to make an exception..."

"What makes you think I'd have any pull with the Consort?"

"Well, she did pin the House Skull of Honor on you after Tython."

"Right. She did."

Ted stared at the boy. Did he really want to be responsible for starting him on the path to Hell?

But could he really afford to say no? The Witches would surely here of it...

Ted snorted. Here in House Io, you could say whatever you want...but did he really want to risk the potential difficulties that might come if the Witches knew he feared and despised them?

"Don't you have anyone looking after you?"

"I filed for Self Governance about three months back. But until I turn seventeen and can serve in the military, I still can't go into a temple by myself. Its a pesky little law the Kubindi refugees demanded."

Ted thought about it a moment.

"Alright."

Grant's face lit up.

"Really? Thanks!" he exclaimed.

"Don't sweat it." Ted replied wearily. "I gotta go, kid. Catch you later."

Grant waved as Ted walked off.

 

[The Battalion]

Ted walked the snow covered streets of Khemost, the lights restored in sections very close to Darth Mammon's converted palace, and the work teams spread out daily, barring a long strip from the center of the city to the edge, dotted by mini strongholds of various Chaplain-led parishes. Most activity was concentrated out from this line, spreading out slowly in dottings of campsites and refurbished armored buildings and slowly filling minor skyscrapers. Citizens were free to explore the uncleared sections but they were greatly encouraged to do so in teams. That said, House Leadership openly encouraged Citizens to find hiding places for stuff they didn't want found.

Ted had hidden an encrypted communicator in a partly collapsed ancient stone chapel whith shattered, frosted over windows of stained glass, located a few kilometers from the city center. It would be a slow trek.

He spotted the golden statues of Darth Mammon on certain frozen street corners, clad in the finest raiments, forever captured on solid electrum statues, regal yet seductive looking. Whoever had sculpted the statues had been a master.

He walked past hulking Model 2's, clearing out the largest pieces of debris on an hourly basis. He saw businesses getting set up, all insulated well from the cold. He felt his stomach rumble and headed into one of the refurbished shops, saw a bunch of Chiss Citizens, the interior clean an tidy in stark white color. An all night restuarant. Each wore the dark blue military uniforms, immaculately maintained. Chiss Immigrants had come here more and more, and tended to make excellent pilots and intel handlers, not to mention soldiers. They also tended to keep to themselves, and often didn't join parishes run by the Nuetralizers. You might occasionally find them in guilds, but not often.

Glowing red eyes settled on Ted as he entered, but only for a moment.

"Greetings, Fellow Citizen. Late night hunger eh?" the beared, gray haired Chiss Man behind the counter said in a pleasant but formal tone. His face was weathered, with a scar on the forehead and his apron was immaculately maintained.

"Yeah..." Ted replied. "Whatcha got on the menu?"

"Warm Spiced Cromas Nectar and Deep Fried Gorg." He answered politely. "My personal recipe. One Alum Coin if it suits your fancy."

Ted silently handed him a coin.

"Hey friend..." the Chiss said, leaning closer and speaking much quieter. "If you're heading deeper out past my shop, watch yourself. Saw a gathering of Cultists heading past us earlier. They had a captured Jedi with them. Don't go into any of the buildings. Cult only likes doing open air sacrifices when its in the Forest."

"Thanks for the warning." Ted replied back just as quietly.

He sat at a table by himself, still wrestling with agreeing to help the teenager out. What had he been thinking? He had to find a way out of it. Had to.

His meal soon arrived and Ted wasn't able to really enjoy it, despite its delicious taste. The Cult seemed to be everywhere. They were out there where he was going.

Ted begun to wonder if he encountered them and he was outnumbered how they would react to his presence. Would he be seen again?

He waited fifteen minutes before he left. He had almost called it off but he needed to get in contact with a friend via anonymous measures. Tonight.

Ted kept alert, hand on his weapon as he walked through snow buried avenues, the wind whistling through the streets.

He stopped when he saw a woman in a silver catsuit, covered in ice, a blank, almost serene stare on her face. He couldn't make out too much of her appearance, due to how covered in ice she was.

Ted approached cautiously, he saw cables connected to exposed ports on her stomach, going back to what appeared to be an old miniature comm tower.

He inspected the generator unit connected to the tower. He saw a power regulation component had come loose and carefully re-attached it to it's socket.

The frozen woman flinched, and then shattered the ice covering her. Ted noticed the cybernetic brace device on her left hand, and a device above her eye.

The Woman blinked, turning to face him. She had fair skin and slicked back golden hair. Ted remained impassive in expression.

"Regulator malfunction. Must have caused a short out." Ted said.

"Citizen Forrest. A pleasure! Thank you so much for your assistance." The Android said in an utterly genuine way that caught him off guard. "It must have been a severe short out."

"You're a new Model. I don't recall seeing your design before." Ted noted, hunched from the cold.

They never made formal announcements on the models. One day you saw one you hadn't seen before, than a few days or weeks pass, and you see a few more of that same one. Then a few more. Than suddenly it's like they were always there.

"I'm a Support Nuetralizer. Squad support. Mobile Power Generation. Name's Kassandra." Kassandra replied with a genuine friendliness, holding out her brace covered hand. Ted shook it.

She noticed the brace on his own hand.

"You have a similar attachment..." Kassandra observed. "Curious..."

"Mine's just to strengthen the limb..." Ted replied. "What's yours do?"

"Repulse." she replied. "Though honestly? I have been thinking of swapping it out for something like a better fusion cutter. You cold? I got a portable heater."

"Uh, no thanks. I really gotta keep moving." Ted replied.

Kassandra nodded in understanding before going over to a nearby supply bag and pulling out a Citizen Energy Sword, tossing him it's silver hilt.

"Be careful out there. I heard reports of rakghouls roaming in packs in the far outskirts. But I shut down and froze three hours ago, so I don't know how good my information still is. Would you like me to go with you? It's dangerous and I'd like to help you out for getting me out of a bad spot."

"Thanks, but tonight is 'me' thing." Ted replied, caught off guard by how natural and human she acted. The Organic Nuetralizers could mostly act human but there were little subtle tells in speaking and movement. The only tell Kassandra had, as far as Ted was concerned, was that same flawless skin and exposed cybernetic parts on her hand an eye.

Kassandra nodded. "Ok. But here's my com-link frequency. I'll be in this area all night, so if you get into trouble just ping me!"

"Thanks..." Ted offered with a rare smile. "Take care of yourself."

Kassandra waved him goodbye, going back to work fixing the comm tower.

Ten minutes later...

He was cold to the bone by the time he at last arrived to the partly collapsed, snow buried chapel, and desired greatly to warm himself in the basement, where his secret waited.

So cold was that he didn't notice the specks of blood near the somewhat rusted turbo-door leading to the basement. He did however, notice the door was slightly more ajar than usual and pulled out his Lupara, aiming the sawn off double barrel straight ahead with both hands.

He saw flickers of light as he went down the steps quietly, and chanting.

Uh oh...

Ted couldn't believe how crap his luck was. He knew in that instant there was no use trying to withdraw...they had no doubt sensed him already.

He continued heading down the steps until he reached the bottom, staring into the now defiled basement.

Piles of gore and blood runes had been nearly arranged in pentagram patterns the Witches congregated at the center, all naked, runes cut into their magically altered flesh bleeding white blood. They were all staring at him in the dark, the dull glow of their sulphur colored eyes matched only by the dim candles.

"Hello there, don't be frightened, step out!" one called to him.

Ted stepped forward, gun at the side.

"Nice night for a walk?" called out a familiar voice at the head of the flock of bleeding witches.

Ted saw her, curvy athletic figure. Red skin, slicked back dark hair. Looked like a Sith Pureblood.

The Conjoined smiled and walked out from the crowd, trailing bloody white footprints behind her. Ted magnificently stopped himself from vomiting.

"Why Ted, what an unexpected surprise and pleasure!" The Conjoined said, flesh on her body bubbling hidiously for a split second.

"Conjoined..." Ted replied formally.

"May I ask what brought you to this place?"

"I heard there were a Pack of Rakghouls in the area. Thought I'd do a little late night hunting. Heard sounds

"By yourself? In the middle of the night? With no night vision equipment?"

"I got good eyesight." Ted answered calmly. "Besides... couldn't sleep."

The Conjoined smiled in a warm manner utterly in contrast to her bloody, cut covered appearance.

"The Night called to us as well. Won't you stay? It's dreadfully cold out there." The Conjoined said with seeming concern.

"I didn't know you were here. Don't want to interrupt your ritual." Ted offered quickly, taking the tiniest motion backward.

"Nonsense!" The Conjoined replied, as though scandalized by the very thought. "The enabler of the Unholy Miracle at Tython could never be unwelcome at our places of worship, any more than the Tripartite-Chaplain could be."

"You mean Percival Io?" Ted asked, in spite of the lethal scenario he found himself in. If the Witches didn't want him to leave, he wouldn't.

"Yes..." The Conjoined answered in a purr of a contralto, face slick with blood and viscera. The smell of copper drifted into his nose.

A few of the witches stepped closer, and Ted went backward a micron of a centimeter.

"Won't you reconsider?" The Conjoined asked. "It'd be an honor to have a guest of your caliber at this gathering."

"I...am not certain if I have the fortitude for this sorta stuff..." Ted said.

The candlelight flickered off bleeding witch skin in the dark.

Ted spotted two out the corner of his eyes that he hadn't seen before.

"This desire to hunt at night..." The Conjoined said. "Forgive me...but it speaks of a man seeking what normalcy can no longer afford."

She stepped closer.

"You witnessed many miracles that day, Ted. A normal man could find that very overwhelming to contemplate such things. Have you truly looked within yourself?" she questioned.

A splotch of red blood hit the floor next to him from above and they were a sudden quarter centimeter closer than they had been.

"I have not." he answered calmly, blaise expression and discipline hiding the Tornado of Fear within him.

 

[The Battalion]

"Ted..." The Conjoined replied, bloody face in a twisted parody of concern. "Are you aware of how unhealthy it could be for you spiritually? To leave such a momentous occasion unaddressed?"

"No, I wasn't." Ted answered.

"Ted, I worry for you..." The Conjoined said, in a horrifyingly sincere tone. "The idea a man such as you, who played such a pivotal role in the exaltation of the Brain Demon, might be left out in the cold, having never even thought to sought out her unholiness for guidance...the thought makes me very sad. The thought makes us all very sad." The Conjoined explained.

"I'm not sure your Goddess has anything I want."

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong...The Goddess always has something someone wants." A Witch said in the back.

"If you doubt us...why speak to her yourself? We were about to commune."

"Not really in the headspace for that sort of thing tonight...no offense." Ted replied.

There was silence between him and the surrounding witches for a moment. The candlelight flickered off of both them and him.

The Conjoined smiled again.

"But of course Ted. Don't let us keep you. But it was so nice to run into you tonight." she replied in a friendly manner.

"Don't mention it." he replied stoically. "I'll be off now."

The Witches backed off slightly and Ted forced himself to turn his back on them, forbidding his skin to even have goosebumps. Forcing himself to keep calm. He had a theory they sensed and were drawn to fear, and showing it would have only made them want more.

He had just reached the first step leading back up when he stopped, realizing, in a twisted way, this was a golden opportunity to take some of the heat off him by playing along, learning a secret or two might be valuable down the road.

He felt bad about the boy though...he'd be risking his life to gain ammo on these monsters...

"Actually... maybe there is some way you can help me..." Ted spoke, turning around, seeing they had kept their distance, but when he blinked they were half a meter away, smiling.

"A boy in my apartment complex, named Grant, he wanted to attend your first Mass but he's too young. If you could put in a word with the Consort to...relax that rule as a favor, I'd accompany him."

The Conjoined let out a disturbingly delicate chuckle.

"Of course. I am sure the Consort would jump at the opportunity." The Conjoined replied. "I will be sure to pass your request along! Be well, Ted."

Ted nodded and turned casually and headed back up the steps. He didn't stop moving until he had put a very good distance between him and that chapel, finding the remains of a small armored security checkpoint with nearby barracks just as the blizzard really got bad. Inside, he found the frozen remains of what seemed to be a panic room for the commanding officer with it's dura-armor door slightly ajar. He went inside, cleared out the snow and junk, and then closed the door from the inside.

Inside, he found an old heating generator, rusted and frozen over but still in serviceable condition, with a fusion power source. Most of the equipment found on Khemost so far was exceptionally hardy, built to be long lasting, resistant to the elements.

He got it working again and was soon warming the frozen room up. He stayed by the Generator, shaking, not because he was cold.

He then heard a shuffling sound outside the door.

Ted went still, shutting off the Generator and turning on the old red emergency light above, bathing the frozen room in darkness and crimson.

Ted watched the door as something on the other side tried to open it at first slowly, than violently.

Ted had his gun out, terrified at either possibility that it was a Witch or wasn't.

The attempts to open the door continued for a solid five minutes before it ceased.

After nothing for a half hour, he turned the heat generator back on. He didn't dare fall asleep.

 

[The Battalion]

Ted swung open the doors in the morning, stepped out cautiously, weapon in hand. No sign of whatever had been out here.

Ted looked around for threats. Any threats.

Nothing.

Ted moved into the daylight, away from the abandoned structure, boots crunching into the snow. He saw the old chapel the Witches had been in.

He decided not to risk it. No telling if they were still in there. He was gonna have to write that device off.

Ted's walk back had him watching every corner, every alleyway. He saw a dark blue police air speeder descend from the sky. The House Io Symbol of a Black Knight riding a horse, sword outstretched, was emblazoned on the hood.

The speeder landed and out stepped two shapely looking female Android's with matching haircuts, their hair of a more pale color than their flesh.

Civic Nuetralizers.

Ted remained silent, watching them in their black catsuits with silver badges, each armed with pump action shotguns that had the stock and barrel sawn off. Vibrodaggers strapped to the thigh. Recharging Pistols. But also carrying Life Support Packs.

Part of him went still when he saw the jagged black moon symbol on one of the cops foreheads.

"Citizen Forrest, are you injured?" The one with the Moon symbol on her head inquired earnestly.

"I'm fine. So they're finally ready to patrol this sector?" Ted asked.

"Oh no...we're still much too unprepared...we were actually sent to locate you."

Ted raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yes..." The Biot that didn't have the moon symbol replied.

"Why?"

"Your presence is requested by The The Consort. You have been invited to breakfast with her. To take place in one hour. It concerns private matters."

"I'll need a ride back then."

"Of course. Please accompany us..."

Ted got in the back seat. The airspeeder lifted off.

"I'm Officer Tammy Io..." The one with the tattooed forehead said. "It's such an honor to meet you."

"Um...thanks..." Ted said slowly.

"I was on the surface of Tython. We were pressed into service to aid in the assault. For all Nuetralizers must taste battle upon activation. I was one of 21 selected to be on the surface." Tammy said.

"I was operating farther away. Never saw one of you."

"Don't sweat it." Tammy replied.

Darth Mammon's golden palace loomed into view through the minor blizzard and Ted was led out, deciding to head back to his apartment to make himself presentable first. He quickly showered and switched into a clean uniform, checked to see if anyone had been in his apartment and left, heading to the living space of the faction's leaders.

It had clearly been a suite once, now converted to a more militarized mindset. Utilitarian in many ways, save for the armor and weapons on the walls, and old photos of the leaders in situations that had no context.

Ted did his best to look dignified as he walked into the dining area, and found The Assembly in The Battalion's white armor, sitting next to Darth Xiphos, wearing a Black Kimono.

"Ted! Please, sit!" The Assembly spoke, inviting him over to the table.

"Good to see you, Forrest." Xiphos said formally.

"Likewise, Matriarch." Ted answered back as he sat down.

"So, Ted, what will it be?"

"Eggs would be nice. Juice too." Ted answered carefully.

"As you wish." The Assembly replied pleasantly.

While Ted waited The Matriarch leaned forward.

"I confess some curiousity as to your decision to...participate in this." Xiphos admitted.

"What House Io needs after Tython is Unity. Me showing at the grand opening of that church might go a long way for stability..." Ted replied. "Plus, there was a kid who asked if I could put in the word."

"I see...well...I have to say, your participartion may be unexpected, but not unwelcome...Tython was...costly. Immensely costly. Morale took a serious hit..." Xiphos admitted. "This faction owes you and those like you."

"Indeed. I am pleased you will attend the opening. Please inform Grant that he will be allowed to attend the opening with you..." The Assembly assured as breakfast was brought in by a Chef Droid.

As they ate, Ted decided to poke the hornets nest for the hell of it.

"I have a question, for you both..." Ted asked slowly. "How do you reconcile the nature of this House's mission with the nature of the Cult upholding it?"

 

[The Battalion]

"An excellent question..." The Assembly began. "Tell me, Ted...what do you consider balance, in life I mean? Is it a constantly peaceful outcome, or do those willing to resort to violence and aggression tend to do better than those who are passive?"

"The aggressive triumph in the end. The meek suffer if they are not even willing to raise a fist. But, with all due respect Consort...I don't need you to tell me that."

Xiphos smiled a little as she ate.

"An honest answer. Ted, allow me to be equally blunt; Strength comes from feeding off your lessers. This House fights those who upset the balance that everyone, including our rivals, live by. The Cult never took issue with the Bryn'adul and The Maw over their sadism. We took issue with them because they didn't know when to stop. But we need power to oppose such foes. Power that doesn't come cheap. So we take our strength in tithes upon our enemies. Admittedly we were much more indiscriminate prior to this House uniting with us...but the need to feed on suffering to grow stronger in the Dark Side will never leave us."

Ted blinked.

"A lot of the people the Cult feed on...I would have been in their category, once..." he said quietly.

"True." The Assembly agreed. "But you are no longer one of them. You're one of us. And those we feed on are located in enemy territory. It fulfils a vital role spreading terror at the edges of the GA and SJC. And nothing hits more viscerally than what we do. But every life we take enables us to continue our vital service to the Galaxy. A few thousand die so entire worlds might be spared the fate of Csilla."

"Might be spared." Ted pointed out carefully.

"And was spared at Tython." The Assembly countered. "All that success was of the Dark Side. And all it asks for is proper sacrifice. Proper faith to work it's will. Of which you played a very vital part. When you divorce yourself from the morality every other person in the Galaxy chooses, and make your own rules, there are inevitably going to be consequences." The Assembly replied in a patient, friendly manner. "All the major factions success is built on the blood of others. Of innocents. We're just more direct about it than they are. And if anything, those sacrificed by us end up better off. For they spend eternity joined with my Goddess, reveling in strength. Though I fully concede they won't see it that way as we are sending them to her."

Ted was silent a moment.

"No further questions."

The Assembly nodded politely. Everyone continued eating.

Later on...


"Julia..." The Assembly said, carving the runes into her dark skin with a ritual knife, leaking white blood out. "I would like your permission to save Ted Forrest's soul."

Xiphos sloshed around in her mobile Bacta Tank watching her wife conduct the ritual. Being in the tank was maddening most days.

"His soul warrants saving, Lucinda?"

"Of course." The Assembly responded, flesh shuddering horribly as she kneeled in front of the shrine. "We are all in need of saving. Especially you."

"I was barely able to smooth over what happened to Percival's lover."

"If we play it right..." The Assembly said rising and turning to face Xiphos.

"He will embrace it willingly, if he can be made to understand how separate he now is from the rest of the Galaxy. Plus, we show what he actually stands to gain."

Xiphos thought a moment.

"Go ahead. Corrupt him, if you can. I'm curious if you can succeed..."

Lucinda nodded. "Pray with me?"

Xiphos shifted her mobile tank to face the shrine.

"I'm curious about something..."

"All ears..." The Assembly said.

"I know how Elaine was made. But how did you come to the Brain Demon?"

The Assembly turned.

"An interesting question...it depends on which version of me you're asking. I am hardly the original. Merely a copy of a copy. A fragment of the original that Elaine absorbed into herself."

"So what keeps you loyal to the Cult?"

"Because I am merely a fragment. I literally cannot exist, or think, without a host body. I exist because of the Brain Demon." The Assembly answered. "Not that I love you any less, darling."

"So how did the original you join?" Xiphos asked.

The Assembly turned and faced her.

"Why all the sudden curiosity?"

"I'm just trying to figure out a pattern to how the Goddess recruits. Beyond faith, I mean."

The Assembly sighed.

"Dear, dear Darth Xiphos..." The Assembly cooed. "Must I have an origin? Perhaps there never was a human woman named Lucinda Nightkiss. Maybe some personas are conjured up by others, invented, crafted for a specific purpose, and end up taking on a life of their own, regardless of the original intent."

"So why give you a human name?"

The Assembly smirked. "It certainly makes me more approachable, doesn't it?"

Xiphos was silent at this.

The Assembly tapped the surface of the tank. "Don't burn your brain out overthinking it, darling. Just know that my love is as genuine as Elaine's."

"Now..." The Assembly continued, turning to the shrine. "Pray with me."

"Yes, Master."

The pair went silent, in contemplation...

 

[The Battalion]

The Battalion was stirred from her slumber in her bed, Xiphos asleep in the tank next to that bed by a terminal with call signal listed as "URGENT" on the screen.

She immediately slipped into her enchanted catsuit, and headed over, hitting the respond button. The screen quickly brought up the skull face of a bulky Model 2.

"What is it?" The Battalion asked, cold, pale features crinkling in curiosity.

"Apologies for disturbing you, Consort, but our sensors show that the entrance to Darth Mammon's Tomb Library has been opened."

"I never authorized any such unsealing..." The Battalion replied. "Who went in?"

"We don't know. Sensors just show the entrance has been opened."

The Battalion frowned. "Don't let anyone go in. Keep the curious away."

"At once Consort."

"I'll handle it."

The Battalion went over and tapped the surface of the Bacta Tank.

"Dear, I'm going out for a while. Some nerfherder opened the tomb library."

"Want any back up?"

The Battalion smiled.

"Touching. But I am still the Blade Master of the Cult..." The Battalion replied. "If anything, I'll just bring Ted along."

The Battalion closed her eyes as Xiphos embraced her in the shared white void of their mind before she broke contact and headed out of their apartment, flesh shuddering as she metabolized the flow of the Dark Side in Mammon's palace, now slowly being converted to an armored fortress. They were about forty percent of the way through that process.

The Battalion felt a swell of pride. Xiphos was becoming more and more broken and frustrated by her recent injuries, more hate filled, more broken.

Make no mistake, The Battalion did love Xiphos, but it was also her duty to break her spiritually. She both loved and hated the task. She couldn't save her soul without driving her over the edge.

She wanted to save Xiphos. She wanted to make up for the death of the Crownwraithes.

She even wanted to be a good stepmother to Xiphos's twisted progeny.

Yet she was also terrified of the results of success.

What if it killed the idealism that had drawn The Battalion to her?

Her somewhat schizophrenic mindset, imparted to her by the Brain Demon, didn't allow her to think too deep on this.

She spotted the Citizen that had petitioned Ted for aid, the teenager called Grant. She had studied his dossier. His father had been driven insensible seeing the Unholy Spirit manifest itself. The Brain Demon was intrigued by his faith.

The Battalion watched from a distance as he prayed to the public shrine to the Brain Demon that had been set up. She felt his sincerity and was greatly pleased by it. Here was an open soul. He was not naive. He knew very well how dangerous the Cult was. The public warnings about them were blared every day, by herself no less.

And still he had faith.

"Citizen Grant..." she said, walking up to him.

Grant turned to her, and was awestruck, falling to his knees instantly.

"Collective Battalion! It...it's an honor." Grant said.

"Collective? Who has taught you that was my title in the Cult?" The Battalion questioned, intrigued.

"I uh...I overheard some of the other Cultists talking at the central pavillion once. Before the Battle of Tython."

"Ah...The Unholy Spirit admires those who seek out that which is secret."

The Battalion stepped closer.

"The Unholy Spirit judges your faith sincere. But can you bear to pay the price she would ask of you, no matter what it is?"

"Yes."

"No matter how random the price may be, nor the timing by which she may ask it?"

"Yes."

The Battalion smiled, willing a cut on her forehead to open, leaking white blood out. She held him by the shoulder, swiped some of her blood from the cut with her free hand, and drew a crude crescent moon symbol on the awed Grant's forehead.

"I would like you to be the first baptized in the opening of our church, Grant. I impart my blessing. Go, seek out my fellow cultists. They will prepare you."

Grant nodded fervantly and The Battalion nodded, departing on her way to Ted's apartment.

A soft knock on the door and a thirty second wait and Ted was standing at attention. The Battalion smiled.

"Ted, would you come with me to the Library of Mammon?"