Special Delivery

[Darth Abyss]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12ov8bswIfw

Deep Space - Bridge of the Eldritch

The dark endlessness of space was nothing compared to the void within the Prophet, who silently rested on the ground with his legs crossed. His rusted and broken body was mostly shrouded in shadows and dirt, but the few remaining pieces of shining silver still reflected the hints of dim green light of the terminals around them. Motionless in form, immersed into the very darkness he was composed of, he waited for the man he had his crew contact, a certain smuggler called [member="Alistair Fenn"].

The task that awaited completion was simple and complex at the same time. In theory it was a simple delivery, but all of his men had refused to do it once they learned of the cargo. His newest creation, the strange spawn of dark magic that called herself Narcissa, had managed to earn to hate of the whole crew in less then a few months. Besides her mindlessly running away to cause trouble others had to clear up at any chance, she had also shown an impressive level of misbehaviour within the vessel.

After the mechanics had to repair the energy core the third time in one week, Abyss had decided that it was enough. It was time to teach her a lesson, the lesson that she meant nothing to him and either had to follow his commands or die a lonely, cold death in space's dark embrace. For that she had been outfitted with a small amulet that suppressed her ability to shift through solid matter, and then packed into a small, uncomfortable cargo crate that was to be delivered to a blacksite prison on the outer corners of the galaxy.

In the hangar of the Eldritch a team was already preparing the crate for pickup, while one of Abyss' agents waited besides them to great the smuggler and escort him onto the bridge. The pale, thin man was shrouded in an odd mix of military uniform and sith robe, and only looked slightly less unnatural then his master.

 

[Alistair Fenn]

[member="Darth Abyss"]

It wasn't a stretch to say that Alistair was incredibly, wholly, completely uncomfortable with all of this.

In his rather short life he had worked for all sorts, Hutt's, Cartels, legitimate trade organizations, and even a few Governments that had wanted to keep things on the down low. This though? This was a first. There was something incredibly off-putting about the Vessel that he had landed on, something that he noticed almost immediately as The Mara touched down on the hangar bay deck.

A chill ran up his spine, his eyes wandering around the inside of the vessel.

"Kark." Alistair whispered to himself.

He could already feel his heart beat a little bit faster. His lips thinned and his head shook for a moment, drawing back in his chair as he rubbed his face. Alistair didn't like doing this, he preferred easy non-creepy job, but right now he hardly had a choice. Debt was hanging over his head, and every job let him slip out from underneath their thumbs just a little bit more. Bracing himself the Smuggler pulled himself out of his chair, grabbing his hanging blaster belt and slipping it around his waist.

Best to go prepared.

 

[Darth Abyss]

It would quickly become clear that blasters wouldn't do [member="Alistair Fenn"] much good should he be forced to use them on the Eldritch. While the smuggler was awaited by the agent, the hanger itself was sprawling with countless of Abyss' soldiers, men and women fused with their heavy cybernetic armor and carrying exotic weapons, that all seemed to watch over a single crate of cargo. Yet the agent, a man who was called Pale hand, let the smuggler little time to see the red flags of this job: "Mr. Fenn. Please follow me, the Prophet is already waiting."

With precise steps the thin man lead the smuggler through the ships intensities. If he felt uncomfortable before, the feeling of distant, yet ever present, dread wouldn't just stay but slowly and steadily increase as the bridge came closer. After a few minutes of walking through crude pathways and a awkwardly silent elevator ride a door would open in front of them, bringing them into the wretched precise of the hollow lord.

"Mr. Fenn. Welcome."

The husk was unmoving, more sculpture then man, as he rested on the ground with his empty eyes away from the newcomers and fixed onto the darkness of space. His voice was as inhuman as his appearance, an eldritch echo that seemed the seep into reality from a place not anchored in the physical world without a clear direction or source that could be made out. His presence was similar, a haunted spirit that gnawed at the very essence of the veil, an broken chasm hungering to consume everything in its path.

"I hope your travel here was without complications."

He wasn't merely a creature of horror, his tone was as terrifying as it was intriguing, a deceptively soft layer coating his words of faked interest into the well being of his potential employee.