The Alchemist

[Darth Veles]

Extending his temporary stay with the First Order and its knights of Ren, Veles wasted little time and fully devoted himself to studies of the new Dark Side practitioners and their ways. While a fresh cult compared to most Force sensitive organisations, many of their core beliefs clearly took inspiration from Sith traditions. That did not interest the Mon Cal Sith as much as the rest; their current direction and specific utilization of the Force. Much like children, the order had yet to mature and discover its place in the galaxy – or be swallowed by the relentless competition. It would be a curious thing to witness either way, and Veles dutifully observed their newest development and relationship with the sudden influx of rogue Sith. Almost like a cruel test for the First Order’s knights; were they ready for treachery and chaos taking seed in their midst?

The Bastion’s thick stone walls told promises of safety, shielding its inhabitants in the same way mother protects her children. Perhaps the Ren felt safe in their majestic outpost carved into a misty mountain, towering high above the surrounding jungles. Wild beasts dared not to invade the Dark Side’s home, having met the Ren in the past and suffering several painful lessons. Sleeping overly soundly under the perceived blanket of safety was a rare occurrence though, given a certain Sith assassin experienced in the killing arts and stealth outright enjoyed keeping an eye on the Bastion’s rightful owners. Ironically enough, Darth Veles belonged among the very few Sith who refused to succumb to madness and pointless brutality – as trustworthy as a Sith can get.

Eating through knowledge gathered in dozens of books, sharing words with Darth Zash’s copy residing inside the long-dead woman’s holocron and observing the training methods, classes and philosophy shown by the First Order’s Force users continued to fill the Sith Lord’s free time. It was then, in a small library housed in the majestic fortress during one night dark as a cave, six seconds until dawn, when another presence revealed itself to the Sith Lord’s mind. Distracted, but not startled by the sudden appearance of another, Veles’ large bulbous eyes quickly turned their attention from many old texts detailing the First Order’s birth towards a tight hallway leading to this chamber. There, veiled in shadows, a sentient being approached. The moment a flickering lamp decided to do its duty and illuminate the entrance, bright light betrayed the Ren’s silent approach.

[member="Samka Derith"], hard to mistake with anyone else due to her purple-coloured hair.

A child in appearance, but Veles knew better, trained to become an assassin from young age himself. What posed as a girl was a well-maintained mask hiding a cold-blooded killer, clearly unafraid to use the adolescent disguise as a tool to trick and confuse the First Order’s opposition. In a way, they both played non-threatening roles to be underestimated by their enemies. Was she there to kill him? While that particular option remained a possibility, the Sith Lord found little reason for the Supreme Commander to order his demise and understood the knights of Ren too well to consider his Sith rivals sending the feeble messengers to remove someone of his experience and power. Shards of paranoia continued to nag his mind with ridiculous questions and accusations, therefore staying collected became paramount in case the young woman truly intended to make an attempt at his life.

“Is there something you need, knight?” Veles asked and offered a polite smile, albeit his inquisitive gaze and hands hidden beneath his dark cloak revealed this Mon Cal to be more than ready to defend himself if needed as his dark-clad form rose from the seat. The woman’s eyes revealed urgency though – that alone told Veles his abilities were required once more. While still an outside element, the Sith Lord was useful to the order and his earlier involvement in the First Order's matters had painted him a reliable asset who did not try to stick his claws where he shouldn't.

 

[Samka Derith]

She'd expected to find [member="Darth Veles"] here tonight. The amphibious Sith Lord had an unsatable thirst for knowledge and Samka Derith doubted he would leave the Order of Ren's library's until he had sucked every little titbit from every book on the shelf. It sickened her that a Sith was given such free reign to their resources but she would not question the wisdom of her superiors. If they had allowed the Mon Cal to do as pleased then she would not argue against it. Veles had shown himself usefully in the past, perhaps not fully trustworthy but useful, and she hoped to make use of his abilities herself. His role as an associate of the Knights of Ren yet outside of it made him the only viable candidate for the personal task at hand.

The teenage girl trotted up to through the darkness to where Veles was illuminated by thin light. She didn't attempt to mask her presence in the slightest, she wanted him aware of her approach. Apparently the man was paranoid enough that if she approached silently it may be seen as an assassination attempt, or so the rumours went. If that was true, she could hardly blame him. Had she grown up around the Sith there was a high chance Sam would be the same.

The Mon Cal greeted her on approach, asking if there was something she needed. "Indeed there is," she replied and walked around the desk to his side. There was no use hiding her motivations and acting nonchalantly as it would only serve to make her more suspicious.

She put a thumb on the side of the book Veles was reading and leaned over the desk. "A bit of light reading?" She asked as she scanned a text detailing the exodus of their nation from the galaxy at large all those years ago. This was mostly public knowledge but knowing the Sith was researching them made her uneasy as she doubted it was standard interest in their history and culture.

Pulling herself away from the open book on the desk, the young Ren began to pace through the room, her attention hopping from one book or artefact to the next. Some she curiously touched, others she just skimmed over, but she explained herself to the Sith Lord as she manoeuvred through the small area of the library around him.

"I've found myself in the possession of the most curious bit of knowledge," she explained as she plucked a book on how the Knights of Ren decimated Luke Skywalker's generation of Jedi, making a note inside her head to return to this book later. "I've had an anonymous tip passed on through to my holo directly. Apparently an artefact of the Dark side, something belonging to the Sith Darth Tyranus, has resurfaced at an auction on Cato Neimidia. Ordinarily I'd pass this up the line to my superiors but..." Sam slammed the book she was holding shut and turned to look the amphibious Sith in his great bulbous eyes. "I believe it was owned by my father, an avid collector of items connected to the Confederacy of Independent Systems. I have a personal stake which is why I would never be permitted to go, another agent of the Supreme Leader's may be assigned to investigate if they even deem it worthy of investigation."

She paused to gauge the Sith Lord's reaction before continuing, "Whoever gave this to me did so for a reason. I can't just ignore it. Now I think I understand how your fiendish mind works, my Lord. You could go and report me to the higher ups in the hope that they'll pass you scraps of praise. I'll deny everything, nothing will come of it and you can expect my blade through your back whenever the chance arises. Or you could aid me, gain an ally and much greater rewards in the future. The choice is yours."

Sam stood before Darth Veles with her hands held in front of her as she awaited his response.

 

[Darth Veles]

Expression emotionlessly neutral, eyes coloured in warm orange actively focused and silently spying on the teenage Ren while she uncovered the subject of his studies and stalked around, Veles remained passive and played a good listener, as always. For a second, Darth Veles almost thought the knight to be simply doing a routine check on him, their independent Sith ally, and ensuring the Bastion’s security continued to offer safety within its thick walls. That much was true, after all, evidenced by the Ren reading all titles Veles had borrowed – her words revealed it not to be the main reason behind her unexpected visit though. No sound interrupted the fluent flow of information that was swiftly judged and analysed in the Mon Cal’s large head, which occasionally broke the statue-like motionlessness and nodded to acknowledge Samka’s words. One question continuously nagged at the back of his mind.

Why him, a black sheep among all those trustworthy? Because sending it through official channels promised failure?

Anonymous tips often brought purposeful lies and misinformation with them – and thus the amphibious assassin almost wanted to suggest checking it with the First Order’s Intelligence if the purple-haired Ren deemed it so important and worthy of her time. More words followed immediately after, shedding illuminating light on the matter and revealing Samka’s personal interest in this mysterious item. Veles could only guess the artifact’s nature thus far, yet he already knew it to be valuable due to bearing relation to the famous and powerful Sith renowned for his prowess with the Force and lightsaber alike. Any object holding a portion of Dooku’s power was invaluable. Indeed; standing on the brink of discovering a technique involving controlled separation of his own consciousness from its physical prison and thus taking one step closer to achieving immortality, the mere baseless assumption of claiming another holocron or scroll filled with potent wisdom sent excited shivers down Veles’ spine.

Tempering his own lust for power and partially replacing it with rational thought, although the Sith-like hunger remained, another thing made him ponder the subject; Samka’s family. It was personal, very much so, and she had admitted as much, yet Veles could not shake off the feeling more awaited revelation. According to some theories birthed in from his swirling thoughts, the item in question serves as an excuse to interior motives hidden behind the Ren’s professional and perfectly controlled mask. Only time would prove it wrong or right; for now, silence befell the small library and signed the Ren had finished. A deep frown crossed his face – not due to Samka’s assumption he’d report her to the masters, but mostly for the fact she had called him a lord. Only other Sith were required to do so because Veles desired to have them know their place in hierarchy. This did not extend to those outside of Sith circles. Veles' expression immediately changed, presenting a masterful shift between masks hiding the Sith Lord's true intentions.

Smiling sweetly, the Mon Cal spoke, adding another choice that rested in his arsenal.

“Or I could do neither, most esteemed knight of Ren,” Veles pointed out with a slight hint of mockery poking through his words, although his tone remained infinitely polite and calm, “I could simply ignore the matter altogether. But know this – reporting you gives me absolutely nothing and my curiosity and scholarly interest beckon me to follow your lead.”

Should the item prove too valuable to be shared, betrayal was always a valid option. For him, anyway. No matter the Ren’s abilities and experience, Veles knew himself to be better, unafraid of sneak attacks planted in his back. His next sentences lacked in mockery and opted for carrying a determined, commanding presence often found within those speaking in smooth, thickly accented voice, betraying Veles' Imperial origin and allegiance.

“I will provide active help, advice, and my stealth vessel to keep the prying eyes away. In return, I desire to know more about the object you seek and where your lead points at.”

A simple open-palmed gesture prevented the girl from answering just yet.

“And please, call me Avreet.”

Finally, a smile radiating genuine warmth curled the corners of his lips and the amphibian moved to collect the books and place them back in their rightful place. Although interrupted in his studies, an opportunity for something far greater has presented itself and he wasted little time reaching out and grasping it as his cloaked form swiftly moved around the small library.


[member="Samka Derith"]

 

[Samka Derith]

Sam watched the gears in the mind of [member="Darth Veles"] turn. She could tell just by watching that his brain was turning through a dozen scenarios and responses yet in the end he arrived at the point she had expected.

She let out a short, soft, smug giggle as the Sith spoke of a third option, to ignore. "And yet here you have chosen to aid me. Passing up an unexpected opportunity such as this was never the option for one such as yourself."

She nodded and opened her mouth to speak but the amphibian silenced her with his gesture and gave a disarming smile as he insisted on being called by his first name.

"Then you may call me Sam. We should be on equal terms after all," she returned his smile with one of her own and bowed her head slightly in respect. "I accept your conditions, they were within my expectations." Sam stood upright, hands held behind her and legs apart as she watched Avreet tidy things up and began to list further details. "The artefact in question has been identified as a holocron of the Count Dooku, or Darth Tyranas as he was named under the Sith. I believe it contains his musings of Dooku's recent circumstances and his master, the future Emperor Palpatine, towards the end of the Clone War. It is highly likely to contain knowledge of the Count's techniques with the Dark side as well. It was in the possession of my father yet I didn't know of its importance when I was so young. It whispered to me whenever I was among my father's collection of artefacts but I could not make sense of the voices. As for my father, he had all the sensitivity to the Force as a Gonk droid so I believe he had no idea of its true nature. Instead it was just another treasure for his collection of Confederate artefacts." Sam paused before moving onto the areas of mystery. "Somehow it has ended up in the possession of a Weequay Sith Lord named Darth Wrelth. Wrelth was a member of the One Sith who has abandoned their dying Empire, seeking to sell the holocron at an auction for Confederacy enthusiasts on Cato Neimodia. Presumably he has sucked all the knowledge for himself and now callously intends to make some credits to flee his pathetic, crippled Empire."

Sam made no attempt to hide her distaste for the One Sith from the Sith Lord with her. They were just another brief flash of Sith power in the galaxy like so many others before them. An impressive military expansion at the hands of the weak followed by an even more impressive internal explosion their many enemies could exploit. This was why the First Order were different. They waited for the perfect moment to strike, not blindly charging the galaxy, and had complete unity and devotion within their ranks. There would be none of the internal power struggles which effectively destroyed Sith Empires better than any incarnation of the Jedi Order ever could.

"I have booked a ticket to the auction, plus guest, under a false name. If there are no questions, I'd advice getting a nice suit. We need to socialise with the wealthy for at least a brief time until we make our move, Aveert." Sam let the Sith's name roll off her tongue, emphasised in an overly friendly manner which he could interpret however he liked. She waited to see if there would be any questions to follow.

 

[Darth Veles]

Gaze vacant, lips sewed shut, he let the woman speak. [member="Samka Derith"] was quite right about her amphibious companion – or perhaps she simply understood his order well enough, thus easily discovering the assassin’s motivations. Truly, when presented with an opportunity to claim an item of power or knowledge, the Darth found its lure too strong to refuse, much like a dog hunting after a tossed bone, bizarre obsession combined with hunger. While a dangerous trait to possess, Veles’ paranoia and caution greatly tempered this almost suicidal lust driving him mad when ancient and faithless relics containing secrets of the past were concerned. As such, upon hearing about Tyranus’ holocron, his excitement touched the sky before being quickly pulled down by many perfectly valid concerns that kept his schemes away from the realm of impossible dreams. The knight’s further teasing about the container’s contents did nothing – the Mon Calamari had regained control over his burning passion for information.

Hot embers sparkled in his orbs when Wrelth’s name came up, amber glare now positively glued to Samka, focus renewed. While never meeting this pseudo Sith or as much as hearing about him, dark clouds of disdain for the man started to slither into his mind, angrily looking forward to seizing the rogue offender and choking life from his body. Not due to his former allegiance, Veles had abandoned the One Sith as well, after all - it was the act of trying to sell the holocron and daring to call himself a Sith. Both aspects posed as spiteful insults to Veles, igniting a vengeful inferno in his cybernetic heart and thirsting for retribution, although the amphibian’s stoic expression revealed nothing. It mattered not; the knight of Ren apparently felt similarly, words dripping with poisonous scorn when using a surprisingly fitting description for the One Sith, albeit still watered down compared to what Veles would say.

“Of course,” spoke the Mon Cal decisively, “I’ll adjust myself accordingly.”

He meant it quite literally.

Becoming a human for the occasion would definitely erase any suspicion threatening to reveal Veles and his Ren ally. There was no guarantee Wrelth knew nothing about the Mon Calamari Sith, thus the decision to assume the role of an anonymous, boring man came to his mind almost immediately. In that moment, darkness itself swirled around the Sith Lord’s form, weaving a new design while erasing the old appearance from existence, much like sculpting or painting. Subtle details and touches came only after his mind had finished with the basic concept, wearing it like another man’s skin. Veles was gone and a different sentient being stood in his place; a well-dressed, middle aged human with grey eyes and dirty blonde hair, fitting dark suit almost blending into shadows. Only his gaze remained the same, piercing and cold, when he met Samka’s look. No explanation whatsoever.

“Is this satisfactory?” he mockingly questioned in a voice that drastically differed from Veles’ ordinary deep and smooth flow, now displaying no trace of the thick accent that betrayed his Imperial allegiance. Without any further ado, the former Mon Cal collected his study materials that remained on the desk, dropping his cloak of light and shadows as he walked out of the room, arranging the necessary preparations before setting out with his companion. Cato Neimodia impatiently looked forward to their visit, unknowingly lusting for the Supreme Leader’s apostles and their deadly message.

 

[Samka Derith]

"Hm," she hummed approvingly at Avreet's transformation and rolled her eyes across every inch of his appearance. If she hadn't seen the change before her eyes, she'd convinced of the humanity of the figure before her. None of the usual accent or Mon Calamari speech patterns could be heard as he addressed her.

"Impressive, that is beyond satisfactory, thank you," she smirked and watched the Sith clear up. "We leave at dawn!" She called after the disappearing figure then sighed once he was out of earshot. Everything about her past life had been left behind long ago, at first she'd missed home it was true but since her instructors had, quite literally, beaten it out of her, Sam had scarcely given the fate of her parents a second thought and was having difficulty processing her thoughts and feelings. Shaking her head, Sam tried to focus on the only thing that truly mattered. The holocron of Count Dooku.

...........................

Cato Neimodia​

​

Sam was dressed in her finest gown, she'd worn something similar to the First Order's military ball, she wore crimson red down to her ankles and roses in her hair. Some make up applied to her face had attempted to age her up somewhat with blush and elongated lashes. She still looked young but hopefully not so child-like. The types in attendance today would not be taken in by the sweetness and innocence of a child but respected wealth and power. She dressed to reflect that.

Cato Neimodia made a perfect setting for such an event. One of the jewels of the Neimodian colonies, a species stereotyped for a love of displaying extravagant wealth. Most of the guests seemed to be Neimodian though there was a fair few humans and other species in attendance so they wouldn't look out of place. Sam watched as the Neimodian security team, accompanied by security droids checked the guests coming in. With luck she wouldn't have to kill them to bring her lightsaber in with her, the weapon was holstered to her leg beneath the gown and would probably be detected on entry unless she could somehow evade it.

Crossing her arms, she looked back at [member="Darth Veles"]. "The Ren are under the impression I'm doing diplomatic work on nearby Commenor. The President has been kind enough to cover for me," Sam made a mental note that she probably owed [member="Lady Kay"] a favour. "This means no trace Samka Derith was ever here. Understood?" She was establishing to the Sith Lord that despite their differences in age and ranking, she was in charge today. There could be no mistakes.

 

[Darth Veles]

Your Deathbed’s display of a strange and unusual design immediately drew the attention of several onlookers to witness its graceful landing. Although a known shape among those to have belonged among the Sith assassins, Cato Neimodia’s denizens knew nothing about this particular model’s allegiance. For that reason, the infiltrator’s uniqueness and military-grade craftsmanship was perceived as a sign of prestige, giving its inhabitants the status of reputable individuals who meant business – just like the majority of guests coming to participate in the auction. Following in Samka’s tow, the disguised Mon Cal scanned their lavish surroundings, drowned in luxury and fortune for everyone to see. Marble floors have been covered in colourful carpets, paintings and golden ornaments adorned the walls – Veles’ preference for cold functionalism clashed against such extravagant demonstration of wealth, yet his natural admiration for foreign architecture and culture prevailed over the Imperial distaste.

Indeed, the Darth’s cybernetic gaze studied every single detail; a discreet search for security cameras and similar devices hidden behind endless admiration for Neimodian furnishings. While monitoring the guards and security droids by the brightly illuminated entrance and playing a human businessman with no connection to the Force, his head briefly turned after the voice that had addressed him, falling upon the red-clad figure posing as his companion. A bit too young by human standards to be in this place, but who could safely distinguish her from the many, many cousins of the dominant race and its sub-cultures? Nobody – and this answer positively silenced any and all questions concerning the rose-adorned teenager’s presence.

“Have a little faith. I am not a Sith assassin for nothing. Now, please, wait for me.” He sinformed by telepathically sending the message directly into her mind where his words materialized on their own. In the next moment, as if to prove his professional pride was justified, Veles moved with the grace of a gentlebeing, right towards the guards, confident steps carrying him over an expensive crimson carpet. One Neimodian immediately stepped in and stopped the guest before Veles could enter and disappear among the crowd.

“Good evening, sir. Please, present your ticket and hand over all your personal weapons for safekeeping.” His voice was coarse, deep, and the Sith Lord made sure to memorize it, playing it again over and over in his mind, just as the cybernetic eye hungrily took in the Neimodian’s form, every single detail consumed and processed.

"Of course."

Wearing a polite smile, Veles obliged – aside from his heavy blaster pistol, he had left all equipment back on the ship, thus the nearby standing droid’s scan revealed nothing. Now the weapon’s grip rested in the Neimodian’s hand.

“Thank you, sir. Welcome.”

Acting fast, the Sith Lord entered and followed the guard carrying his weapon down a hallway. A cautious look around if nobody else happened to be nearby or looking their way, two more steps forward and Veles’ current disguise ceased to exist, turning into the very same guard he had distracted. Several swift steps brought him back to the entrance, another telepathic connection established with the Ren made Samka aware of his new and temporary identity, prompting her to come over to him quickly.

“Good evening, ma’am. Please, present your ticket and hand over all your personal weapons for safekeeping.”

If not for the droid, he would have let her pass with her lightsaber, but that was unfortunately not an option.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to secure your weapon, ma’am.”

“I’ll give it right back.”

“Welcome.”

Scanned and deemed to be unarmed, therefore no threat for the private security forces watching over the event, [member="Samka Derith"] was free to walk in and socialize with rich people. Appetizers and servants offering those were a given, same as music and influential names flying from one ear to another. Before exposing himself to the mass of sentients, Veles had shifted in appearance again to wear his original guise and sneakily handed the lightsaber back, just before the original guard returned to his post. Only one danger threatened to ruin this so far flawless operation; their target’s Force sensitivity put the knight of Ren at risk lest she knew how to mask her presence. Veles realized it all too well, thus he did nothing to change it, intent on baiting the rogue Sith.

“Shall we continue?” Veles’ projection of somebody else asked sweetly, tone displaying a fatherly affection towards the young woman.

 

[Samka Derith]

Sam stood with her arms crossed watching as [member="Darth Veles"] played his little game with the guards. She handed her lightsaber over to him in his new disguise with a steely glare. She couldn't help but feel, rightly or wrongly, that somehow this was a power play against her. He'd taken her weapon and outwitted security with no need for her help. At least he was proving himself useful.

Sam snatched her lightsaber back and placed it back in the hidden holster at the first opportunity. "Yes," she replied to the Sith Lord's question, linking her right arm in his left and resting her other hand on his elbow. "Let us continue," she said with a simpering smile full of innocence.

The auction appeared to be held in an open top ballroom with an erected wooden stage. Long tables covered both sides of the room displaying food and drink adorned in golden goblets and bowls. Dotted around were various historical artefacts associated with the Confederacy of Independent Systems, the short lived Separatist movement who challenged the Republic in the Clone Wars. With their defeat and the nationalisation of the Trade Federation came the shattering of Neimodian power which had never recovered so it came as no surprise that here on a Neimodian world there was great interest and nostalgia towards the CIS.

Looking over a tattered Confederate flag apparently captured by the Republic in the Battle of Kashyyyk, Sam spoke in the ear of the transformed Mon Cal, "My father was a self styled entrepreneur," she explained. "He and my mother found their fortune mining on Geonosis, I believe that's where his passion for the Separatists started. The fool always used to lecture me on how the galaxy's evils could have been prevented if only they had won the Clone War. The ultra-capitalist narrative suited the man who feared the strong arm of a Government coming to tax his precious fortune. In spite of this, he lacked the backbone to throw his support behind any of the modern successor states like the Techno Union." She paused, "Perhaps I am being too harsh on the man who provided for me but that is neither here nor there. What matters is that somehow an element of his collection has ended up here."

Sam scanned the view around her, there were a variety of artefacts but no sign of the holocron she'd known as a child. What there was however was the figure of a large Weequay, standing tall among the crowd of Humans and Neimodians. Even here she could sense the dark side emitting from him, Darth Wrelth.

Still linked with the arm of Avreet, Sam could already feel rage building against the Weequay Sith so she leaned up and softly cooed in his ear, "Have patience for now. We'll kill him later. Painfully." Sam pulled away slightly, meeting Avreet's eyes and flashing a mischievous grin like that of a child.

 

[Darth Veles]

Entering where the event would be taking place, a grand hall proudly wearing the dignity of a snob, the perceived couple effortlessly blended in and received no particular attention from other guests and participants. Curiously enough, not all items displayed shine and glitter among all the luxury; old relics bearing strong signs of allegiance to the CIS and showing positive marks of wear immediately revealed this auction’s nature, why so many desired to claim Tyranus’ holocron despite the fact most attendees would never be able to unlock Dooku’s secrets. Quite ironic it was the other way around for the Mon Cal Sith, who only lusted for information and knowledge imprinted within. A long, inquisitive glare scanned the chamber in a silent demand, proving it held nothing of value. For a moment, Veles’ sight settled upon the Weequay Sith, his signature revealing the man’s true nature.

A dead man walking.

Without arousing suspicion, Veles' eyes smoothly parted from his target’s form and turned towards the knight of Ren once she explained her father’s devotion to such old relics and mementos. Unlike her, Veles did not have access to personal information about her order, thus he listened quietly and intently, occasionally nodding and finishing with a smile once she revealed her father to be into Separatists. Probably just like the majority of people there – admirers and vivid collectors. Part of him understood the consuming drive all too well, sharing a similar obsession when it came to various curiosities forged by the New Order and its faithful supporters. The human skin of Darth Veles raised its eyebrows, eyeing Samka with undeniable curiosity, more devoted to her family’s background than anything else, as he could not quite imagine the daughter of a Separatist enthusiast joining the First Order without her family raising voices of protests.

“Please, tell me more about your family. Where are they from? Do they have any connection to Raxus?” Veles inquired gently while slowly moving past a few well-suited Neimodians. There was another layer to his question – as someone born on the CIS’ former capital planet, the Mon Calamari was most curious about Samka’s possible connection, even though he expected to be disappointed by her answer. As evidenced by himself, being raised on such a planet strongly culturally shaped by the Separatist movement did not guarantee admiration to said organisation and vice versa.

Bound together by their arm lock, the duo ventured over a pristine and highly decorated table weighted down by drinks and canapés. Playing the role still, Veles’ free hand reached for a glass filled with champagne, raising it to see its peculiar colour against the sun and spy on countless bubbles disturbed from their slumber. The glass never quite made it to his lips though, continuing to rest in the fake human’s hand and serving more as a decoration of sorts. In the corner of his eye, he had caught Samka’s expression, one of bloodlust. It did not mirror his feelings. Veles, despite all faults, was a gentle soul and took his profession as a grim, yet necessary thing to do. Pleasure had no place in it, perhaps he had murdered the ability to find true pleasure in anything aside from gathering knowledge.

“Pain makes the Dark Side stronger, friend, and our target is its slave. I’d rather get this over with as quickly as possible.”

No sign of the holocron yet, probably hidden away in safety. On the other hand, Veles’ human guise and its charming companion no longer enjoyed the reclusive anonymity. The Weequay Sith himself had descended among the non-Force users to persuade future allies and supporters to finance his crusade against the galaxy. With the Force running through his veins, the task of bending a few minds to his cause seemed frighteningly easy. Upon seeing two new faces, nothing could stop him from approaching his future executioners, marching right in front of Veles and claiming a champagne-filled glass of his own. No doubt about it – Wrelth intended to socialize with them, discover everything he could about the two. As his Dark Side-stained eyes filled with undying hatred fell upon them, Veles cast a smile and raised his glass, knowing all too well the simple act of shaking hands had to be avoided at all cost, so far not a thread due to both of the Mon Cal’s hands occupied. That, and Wrelth’s gaze seemed devoted to [member="Samka Derith"].

“So many priceless artifacts!” Veles announced wishfully, attention nonchalantly shifting towards the old collectibles, “Each and every a symbol of what the Confederacy stood for. Unity and strength fighting against the corrupt Republic.”

 

[Samka Derith]

Sam paused before an item in a glass case which had a particularly large price tag and a gang of hungry looking Neimodians debating who would own it. Allegedly a fragment of the cane of Poggle the Lesser.

She returned the gaze of [member="Darth Veles"] and raised a brow, "I shall share what may be relevant to this assignment, Avreet. Nothing more and nothing less." She had to maintain some secrets after all. Her past was her own, not to be shared with just anyone and especially not a Sith. Still she could indulge a few titbits. "My Father was from Christophsis but he emigrated to Ord Paradron where he met and married my Mother. They travelled to Geonosis and then to Bespin where I was born. Nothing too interesting, I'm sure."

All she could do was sneer when Veles spoke of making it quick. "He won't have much strength once all his limbs have been hacked off now, will he?" She spoke with a maddened, sadistic gleam in her eye. A part of herself Sam rarely showed. Still she would be cautious. She had to be as their target approached them directly, how curious.

Darth Wrelth was a large figure, both tall and broad. His hair tied in a single, long braid at the back and golden piercings across his face. A typical fashion for his species. He seemed to be wearing some kind of tight fitting dark blue battle armour with a cloak which looked slightly out of place among the clothing of the other clientele but not jarring enough to completely stand out. The Weequay's beady shrived eyes locked with Sam's large red ones as he marched forwards, seemingly ignoring Veles' remarks. Instead he seemed transfixed with gazing upon her face.

Deciding it would be better to speak with the man once he was within conversational distance, Sam crocked her head to the side and smiled. "Hello, My Lord. I'm Jeala Tydarus and this is my uncle," she gently nudged her companion as a prompt. "Well technically he isn't my uncle by blood but that's what he's always been to me since I was a little girl." She giggled sweetly and looked up at the disguised Mon Cal with an affectionate beam. "I saw your name and description on the summary of what was for sale this evening, Lord Wrelth, and I must say your item is a must have for me. I haven't seen it in the room though, I do hope it's still for sale?"

After a brief pause, the Sith before them lit up with a smile of his own. "Of course, of course! I knew a good buyer when I see one, it's why I came over after all!" Internally, Samka snorted at such an obvious lie. There was more to this. "It's in a secure location as it's the most valuable item of the night. Well, I think so anyway. Come! Let us walk and talk!" The Sith gestured to an outside balcony clear from the other guests. Sam looked towards her 'uncle' to see what he would do.

 

[Darth Veles]

Seeing his distraction did not work and given Wrelth’s interest in [member="Samka Derith"], there was little doubt the rogue had discovered her connection to the Force. Veles frowned, but maintained his calm and let no worry distort the perfect projection he had created, continuing to pose as Samka’s human companion with his real self more than ready to slide out the concealed dagger built inside his wide wrist and insert its cold alchemized blade into the rogue’s unbearably living heart. The option continued to tempt him anyway, having his target at less than arm’s length, a perfect opportunity if not for the witnesses. And yet he stayed his hand. Professional pride and all that – always an assassin, there was no way for the Mon Cal to slaughter everyone. Not due to a lack of skill, definitely not; it was only because the proud Sith Lord refused to degrade himself to a common butcher.

What stopped Wrelth from attacking though? Probably the surrounding attendees as well – but not the same reason. Killing those who appeared to be guests would leave a poor taste in everyone’s mouth – and then, dead people rarely spent credits. After Samka’s introduction followed by her voicing interest in their sought-out item and Wrelth’s reply, the human skin of Darth Veles subtly nodded, answering both. Perhaps the Weequay desired to lead them into a trap, a place discreet enough to reveal his true nature and kill the duo. Perhaps not – either way, his confidence in venturing out on his own with an unknown, trained Force user and her company spoke volumes of his abilities. Or arrogance.

“Of course,” replied Veles, “Come, Jeala.” In a perfectly coordinated display of grace and elegance, the duo followed their host as the Weequay swam through the crowded grand chamber, passing through doors and moving in corridors that saw less and less life until the three were alone, safely separated from all distractions. All music and chatter grew dangerously distant, becoming lost echoes trapped inside an infernal maze of decadence. Once the night’s obsidian blanket rolled over their heads, a breeze of fresh air greeted their skin and the sprawling city’s lights poked through the darkness like a Super Star Destroyer’s cannons releasing their apocalyptic gift upon the unfortunate. Quite a sight, one which Veles’ eyes gladly feasted upon before looking back at Wrelth. No fear or suspicion could be sensed from the towering Weequay as he stood at the balcony’s very edge, railing alone ensuring he wouldn’t fall to his death.

Another tempting offer, almost as if Wrelth mocked the two by showing them his back, daring them to strike. Part of Veles wanted to give the son of a queen a push, then watch the helpless body pulled down by gravity get crushed upon meeting the bottom.

“Have you come to kill me?” whispered Wrelth into the passing wind, his words a silent curse with meaning yet to be revealed.

Veles wasn’t thrown off by the question’s honesty. It was the Weequay himself that sent shivers down his spine. Wrelth’s calmness was off for a man left alone to two assassins. The man had to be absolutely certain they were not going to kill him – or insane. Having encountered many Sith like that, Veles had yet to rule out the possibility of madness plaguing and twisting Wrelth’s mind.

“Yes,” admitted the amphibious Sith in an equally serene tone, voice normal.

Parting from Samka, the Mon Cal took one suspiciously soundless step closer to his target, scanning him with his cybernetic eye replacement.

Another step forward, more confident, resembling a predator right before lunging at its prey.

“Be my guest, then,” Wrelth chuckles, head turned to let his eyes fall upon the two, "You're about to discover I cannot be injured. See for yourself."

 

[Samka Derith]

"Ahem," clearing her throat to draw the attention of the Sith men back to her, Samka stood with her arms crossed and an exasperated look on her face. "Before we indulge your suicidal fantasies, my Lord," Sam's formal term of address oozed with false respect. "Tell us where the artefact is. Just in case, quite shockingly, severing your neck from your body does indeed kill you."

Slowly, Darth Wrelth turned around, one arm still resting on the balcony's railing. He looked her up and down with his dark, beady eyes as a thin smile crossed his lips. "I thought so..." he muttered quietly before giving another soft chuckle. The jovial, boisterous attitude the Weequay displayed earlier in the main auction hall had vanished. Replaced by a cold, contemplative being.

Sam frowned, "Well? I'm shuddering in anticipation. Please. Don't keep me waiting."

The smile on the Sith Lord's face grew larger. "Yes. I thought back there you looked familiar. The nose, the shape of your jaw. Humans look so similar but if you pay close attention you can see the differences. But that attitude!" Wrelth drew up to his impressive full height, he must have been over six and a half foot. "That entitled, smug attitude. You are so much like your mother."

At this Sam froze. She was a blank sheet in the service of the Knights of Ren, her old life had long vanished and had never been used against her. Yet here it was all unravelling back. Her two lives, her childhood and her service to the Supreme Leader, were becoming one. She knew it had been risk to undertake this mission given the details but to face a Sith Lord who not only knew her parents but recognised her as their daughter? That was unexpected, to say the least.

"To think they'd have an assassin for a daughter, one trained in the Dark Side at that. The galaxy is a strange place." Wrelth continued once it was clear Sam had no response. "When your parents fled from the First Order's conquest of Bespin, they tried to take everything with them. Imagine that! I was using my old ties to a gang of Weequay pirates to pillage the outer rim for supplies to power the One Sith's war machine and your rich old Mommy and Daddy with their giant cruiser... that was a target we couldn't pass up."

She couldn't sense any deception from the man, it could be that he was strong enough with the Force to hide it but that sounded like exactly the foolish kind of move her parents would have made. Greedy, unwilling to part with a single valuable possession even if it painted a target on their back larger than a Hutt's backside. Fleeing from the First Order though? That part was... interesting to say the least. Given that Wrelth hadn't highlighted that fact he must be unaware of her current loyalties.

"A Sith holocron was not what I expected to find on board but that's how it was. Most precious find I've ever had. As for your parents... The old lady tried to scold us. Can you believe that? I choked her as we boarded while your cowardly father hid. We had to strip the ship down to find him but when we did, the boys had some fun. You don't become a pirate under a Sith Lord without having a sadistic streak. Then when your mother woke up, they did the same to her. Over and over til neither of them could take it any more. We vented the bodies into space somewhere in Sith space. Naked of course, even the clothes they wore could be sold for decent credits and only a lousy pirate would waste them." Wrelth continued to stare at the teenager, hoping to goad her into some kind of reaction.

Instead, Samka just stared back, her expression unreadable. She didn't know how to feel about any of this, she'd never felt particularly close to either of them but nor had they been exceptionally cruel to her, there was a base instinct of attachment for the people who had give birth to and raised her that even Sam couldn't fully shake off. What was clear though was that this man was trying to force her to anger and rash actions. A risky move against someone with the Dark Side as their ally but his confidence in the strategy told her not to give in to it. Still he had been giving this speech mainly to disrespect her and that would not do.

Expression still blank, Sam turned to [member="Darth Veles"], he was closer to the Weequay then she was, and gave a command "Hurt him."

 

[Darth Veles]

Completely still, every muscle ready to react in case things went bad, the amphibious Sith Lord watched his prey turn around, briefly meeting his gaze before addressing the knight’s concern, twisting her question into something completely different – the rogue wasn’t going to reveal his treasure’s hideout. Veles suppressed an impatient smile, finding it somewhat comical when the rogue boasted about his pirate exploits, detailing the undiscovered fates of Derith’s parents and taking great delight in provoking his young enemy while seemingly ignoring the fatal danger growing right in front of him. Of course, Veles did not know how truthful the Sith’s words were – but Wrelth definitely wanted to bait Samka into a costly fit of blind rage. To the Ren’s credit, she had resisted the attempts without any apparent trouble, speaking volumes about her self-control.

One smooth lunge forward and Veles could not be stopped anymore, breaking the projection and revealing himself to stand much closer to the Weequay than his human disguise originally suggested. Too close and too fast to allow Wrelth any time for self-defence, the assassin blade’s edge reflected the moon’s silver shine while whizzing through the air and going for the rogue’s corrupted heart. But before the dagger’s alchemized tip slipped into flesh and muscle, it met an unexpected barrier that denied it from sinking further. No shield or armour, not even a telekinetic grip held his hand from completing its manoeuvre – Wrelth’s skin beneath his robes acted like beskar, unwilling to receive a scratch. Shock and surprise alike ran through Darth Veles’ body in the next second, realizing all too well he had left himself open.

Unable to retreat and avoid the rogue’s retaliation, Veles’ hidden blade retracted back into his wrist just as Wrelth’s hand produced a crudely shaped lightsaber. Mere moments separated the Mon Cal from a shameful death upon planting his webbed palm upon his opponent’s chest, just under the ribcage. One forceful shove later and Lord Wrelth’s figure plummeted down into the night’s terrible darkness and infinite depth. The eerie silence of his deadly descent served as a good enough warning that this was not their last date, prompting Veles to sharply pivot on his heel and face Samka.

“There’s that, then.”

His expression clearly revealed the Mon Cal’s thoughts and feelings, dominated by disappointment. How long until the rogue Sith made it all the way up? What would they do after then? A brief inspection of his weapon revealed no defects, only deadly sharpness. Many explanations of its failure to deliver death and injury swirled through Veles’ big head, but he’d ponder Wrelth’s apparent invulnerability while going after his true goal.

“Let’s return and search for the holocron. It has to be nearby. Perhaps Wrelth’s ship or room?”

Without Wrelth haunting the entire building for the moment, a dark cloud’s been lifted from the Force, giving the two a chance to find the holocron by its presence. Getting dressed into his perfected human appearance once more, Veles cast his typical smile at [member="Samka Derith"] as the two became fictional characters again, a young girl with her uncle, bound by their shared passion for Separatist relics.

 

[Samka Derith]

Striding back into the main auction hall, Sam could immediately sense [member="Darth Veles"] was correct. Everything felt somehow clearer without the Sith Lord's presence. Now Sam could sense something familiar tugging at her, whispers beckoning her to follow. Searching for the origin of the calls, she spotted a bolted metal door, one which required a keycard to access. That was it, if she focused, Sam could feel herself being pulled towards it.

Snatching a bantha scratching from the plate of a passing waiter, Sam gestured with her head towards the door, motioning for her Sith companion to follow as she ate the tiny delectable snack.

"Ah, may I help you, Miss? Sir?" Samka's single minded march to the sealed door was broken by a plump Neimodian dressed in regal purple robes and an elaborate headdress which made the man appear much taller than he actually was.

"Mm," Sam licked the end of her finger, making a show of finishing her snack. "You may well have the most delicious Bantha serving I have ever tasted."

The Neimodian's face lit up, "Why thank you! I am Lott Hakku, the host of this illustrious event!" His voice was booming and every word accompanied by grand hand gestures.

"Then you have done a fine job, I'm deeply impressed." In Sam's experience flattery can get you everywhere, especially when dealing with types like this Lott Hakku. "While I have your attention, I was wondering where the rest of the items are. Not every item that was advertised appears to be on display yet. May I ask where they are?"

"Ahh, most of them will be through there," Lott pointed a stubby finger towards the secure door she'd been heading towards. "We have a range of donators for today's auction. Some of them have... troubling backgrounds. We have to make final checks to be certain nothing dangerous is brought in."

Sam nodded, it made sense. A Sith Lord would count as having a 'troubling background'. "There was another item which I was curious about," Sam flashed Aveert a significant look as she brought Lott's attention away from her Mon Cal companion. This Neimodian had the necessary clearance to get through somewhere on his person. Sam wasn't sure where but if anyone had the ability to find and take a keycard off of a person without them noticing, it was Darth Veles. She just had to keep him talking.

"So that's Neimodian armour? I was under the impression the Confederacy used an exclusively droid army?"

Lott Hakku shook his head. "In the closing months of the war, Neimodia and her colonies, like this one, were blockaded by the Republic. We were cut off from our supply of droids and had to prepare for the worst. Our people aren't warriors by nature but even we can fight if forced into a corner..."

Sam nodded and smiled politely as he spoke, keeping the Neimodian's focus far away.

 

[Darth Veles]

Veles followed, but it wasn’t long before he and his masterful human projection parted ways, acting independently – the young woman’s uncle stood next to his relative and absent-mindedly watched the delicacies presented in front of them, seemingly unable to choose. When the Neimodian ingenuously revealed the whereabouts of other items, Veles’ cybernetic eye already worked on scanning him through and through in search of a tiny device to grant him access to this area. While [member="Samka Derith"] kept her new best friend’s attention focused on herself, the Mon Cal’s invisible form walked right up to its victim, webbed hand moving faster than lightning and efficiently slipping under the top layer of clothing. Two code cylinders glistened their silver shine in Veles’ prosthetic hand for a short moment before completely vanishing from existence.

No longer needed in here, the amphibious Sith Lord moved away, following the host’s direction as he discreetly crept through the lavish party. Samka would likely recognize this despite her ally’s invisibility – the human form of Darth Veles suddenly parted from its companion and mingled with other guests here and there, then suddenly nowhere before anyone noticed. By that time, the real body of Darth Veles already inspected the vault’s protective shell, ready to enter. Naturally, before opening the heavy door, Veles ensured nobody looked his way, bending all sound in his near vicinity to ensure his trip continued in absolute silence, thus the massive durasteel plate alerted nobody when it moaned loudly upon granting him entry.

One step forward and he was in. A lone camera right above his head whirred in another rotation and stopped mid-motion as Veles’ gesture declared its image static. This act did not grant Veles complete reign over the vault though – more security devices and possibly guards eagerly awaited his next steps, ready to sound the alarm should he fail their test. Only fools would believe the Sith assassin to fail - would he share the prize with his Ren ally once it rested in his grasp though?

Something motionless stirred and slowly stood up deep below the auction’s heights.

 

[Samka Derith]

"-After all, a mix of organic and droid forces allows an army the capability to overcome the weakness of both..."

Sam nodded in agreement absentmindedly. The plan had been to get him talking and she'd certainly done that. In the process she'd lost [member="Darth Veles"], she'd felt the Sith Lord slip away into the background but was unable to follow him. Begrudgingly, Sam had to admit his ability with stealth far outstripped her own.

From behind her, she heard the durasteel door open and close. Apparently she was the only one to do so as nobody looked round. Biting the inside of her lip in indignation, Samka knew Veles was proceeding without her. This was her mission, would he even recognise Dooku's holocron if he found it? Did it call out to him the way it did for her? The way it had always done so? Then a thought far worse than Veles merely stealing the glory came into her head, he could steal everything. Logic dictated that he would not, doing so would needlessly antagonise her and by extension the Order of Ren where he had sought refuge but since when did Sith think logically? Her palm tightened into a fist at the idea of betrayal but before she could visualise appropriate punishment, a wave of dark energy overwhelmed her mind leaving Sam cold and slightly afraid. She wasn't a fearful person by nature, far from it, but powerful practitioners of the Dark Side could invoke a very basic primal fear in even the bravest of souls. This could only mean one thing... Wrelth.

Turning away from Lott Hakku, the Neimodian was still chatting as she left, Sam set a brisk pace towards the balcony where the Sith Lord had fallen from, it seemed the best place to hide away but she had only made it halfway across the room when the front doors blew open with a thunderous explosion. The crowd screamed and yelled, diving for cover as a gang of Weequay pirates ran into the auction. The few security in the room who fired at them, droids and organics, were swiftly dispatched with military like precision. Then a sinister voice echoed in Sam's head.

"QUIET!" It yelled and the crowd fell silent, occasional whimpering was the only noise coming from the guests now.

She knew who the voice belonged to. It was the man who strolled in, almost casually, behind his gang of pirates. It was the Sith Lord, Darth Wrelth.

As the gang of Weequays spread into the room, all Sam could do for now was to silently jump into a nearby gang of Humans and Neimodians huddled on the floor. Wrelth would no doubt seek her out again and delaying that for a while was all she could do.

Turning her eyes over to the Weequay Sith, Sam saw him gazing around the room for a moment as if basking in the terror of the auction guests before he gradually broke out into a soft and sinister chuckle. "So many riches gathered in one place!" To his side one of the pirate crew smashed a glass casing holding the broken cane of Poggle the Lesser she'd been examining earlier. "So many wealthy hostages to ransom!" Wrelth continued as another pirate tore off a Neimodian's expensive robes to examine. "Thank you for inviting me here today, it was a great pleasure to get inside access to destroy your security systems and make off with everything!" Wrelth chuckled louder.

Pulling the lightsaber from beneath her gown, Sam readied herself for battle. She just had to pick the most opportune moment to strike...

Now Wrelth was resting his hand on the shoulder of a Human security guard, mocking him on the deaths of his colleagues and failure to protect the venue. He enjoyed inflicting fear and humiliation, Sam noted. The next moment was unexpected though. Out of nowhere, the security guard pulled out a vibroknife and stabbed Wrelth in the gut. It should have been a crippling blow. For a split-second the security guard had an expression of triumph on his face but it swiftly vanished into confusion and fear as the large Sith didn't so much as flinch. Instead Wrelth turned his head to the side, looking down upon the man in something resembling pity. He let the knife linger there for a moment and turned to members of his crew, a smile crossing his lips then the familiar chuckle breaking out into full blown laughter. This time, his crew joined in. The howling laughter of the Weequay pirates filled the room until, with a single hand gesture, Wrelth silenced them.

"That was brave," Wrelth told the guard, "Unfortunately for you, I am immortal." With that, Wrelth snapped the man's neck with a twist of his powerful hands. Pointing at the door Veles had disappeared through, Wrelth ordered his crew to blow it open.

Still crouched and huddled among a group of terrified guests, Sam could only wonder how to get out of this one. She was no Jedi, she was not here to save everyone, the only thing that mattered to her was getting out alive with Dooku's holocron but that was looking increasingly difficult...

 

[Darth Veles]

It called to him. While the Sith Lord could not hear its seductive voice, he could most certainly feel it, speaking to him through the Force and lovingly tingling his senses in a way those blind to the Force would never understand. This was a sensation he had experienced many times in the past, further enhanced by the unbearable excitement he felt at the prospect of claiming another holocron. For a split second, Veles lost control over himself and shivered in pure sexual ecstasy, mind completely overwhelmed by this suicidal desire to penetrate the dark side’s depths in search for answers to all questions. Deep, forced breaths left his mouth and the Mon Calamari swiftly recovered from his momentary weakness, watching himself reflected in the polished durasteel floor. Quick, seamlessly flowing steps unaffected by the Sith’s usual hobble carried Darth Veles across the grey mirror, skipping many shield-covered shelves weighted down by valuable artifacts along the way. His advancement through the vault proved to be fast as he bent both light and sound to do his bidding, a ghost undetectable by cameras and laser grids that seemed to have every nook and cranny covered by their invisible beams.

Only two guards walked among the priceless pieces of history, further implying the vault was believed to be safe. Given Veles could see them passing through the lasers, he concluded both men wore uniforms equipped with a chip to mark them as security. Not that he needed it given his abilities – still, Veles had to take the patrolling duo out in order to secure a silent and elegant escape. If either guard noticed the most prized relic missing, the Sith Lord’s sneaky journey would meet a premature end; not alerting the knight of Ren was a pleasant bonus that would save him the trouble of squabbling over Dooku’s creation later. A minute or two until his first victim got out of the watchful gaze of the cameras and the assassin firmly wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, ignoring all protests before stillness settled in. Repeating the process and placing both unconscious bodies in blind spots where no camera could see, he freed himself of the last threatening obstacle.

Finally, the eagerly awaited sight touched his amber gaze, eliciting a kind smile meant solely for a small, similarly shaped object. Hovering in a forcefield above its pedestal like some legendary treasure, bathed in light blue of the surrounding shields, the holocron wormed into his mind and begged Veles’ hand to seize it and take its power. A beautiful piece to be added into his collection!

Charmed, but not blinded by his rightful prize, the Dark lord stopped in motion before another step forward had a chance to bring him upon a pressure plate disguised as ordinary floor. The trap did not fool him – possessing both the Force and his artificial orb, the amphibious assassin refused to fall for it despite his maddening obsession with the data container and all its secrets. Unwilling to trigger the vault’s undoubtedly drastic measures of thief catching, yet also overly cautious when it came to Sith artifacts, Veles maintained a respectful distance from its beauty. Then came the usual procedure – thoroughly examining Tyranus’ legacy and checking it for nasty surprises. Not only those of technological nature; Sith curses and the like were also a very real possibility, thus the Darth exercised great caution upon his careful examination of the small pyramid shaped device. With all concentration pouring into the riddle in front of him, Veles failed to notice – or, rather, acknowledge – the incoming danger. Despite being announced loudly through the Force, Wrelth’s vengeful return received no answer from the amphibious sentient.

A focused, delicate stream of ionic energy could disable all spying eyes and the holocron’s protection alike. In theory, anyway. His mind realized the incoming danger, knew too well all was going to fall apart the moment Wrelth came in. Maybe staying low and undetected no longer mattered – still, Veles wanted to test his chances at slipping away. Undoing his cloak and letting his inner fury channel enough power to chain the dark side, a purple flash eliminated the most irritating camera before doing the same with the pedestal. Shimmering, the shields involuntarily dropped, just like the forcefield holding the holocron in place. Before it hit the ground, Veles’ webbed hand reached out, telekinetically grasping the device and gently placing it right into his cloak to avoid direct touch. Just in case. And truly, his intention to sneak out and quietly disappear would have worked if not for his way out turning into a shower of debris.

Alarms started to loudly announce intruders, forcing Veles to embrace darkness once more and sparing him the fight with Wrelth’s pirates that flooded the vault. He avoided them, eyes set upon the smoking hole that was his exit. Unfortunately, killing a living insult to his order was almost as hard to resist as the holocron’s lure, thus the Mon Cal decided to give it another go, but not before doing a scan of Wrelth’s body. Much to Veles’ surprise, the image sent to his brain showed no armour or cybernetics – by all means, the Sith assassin’s first attack should have killed the dark Jedi.

All this noise made one beep unnoticeable. The thermal detonator’s owner certainly knew nothing as the destructive weapon on his belt activated. When a wave of unseen energy hurled him straight at his boss – he did notice that before his body vaporized in a blinding flash. But no; even before the light vanished and revealed Wrelth’s towering figure, the Force had already informed Veles of failure. While not succeeding, he had positively attracted the Weequay’s attention, and so a vicious torrent of lightning filled the vault, killing indiscriminately. Similarly to Wrelth’s own miraculous survival, one man had resisted the dark side’s agonizing effects, white columns of smoke rising from his unyelding posture. Now fully visible, Veles’ gaze coldly tore into his opponent’s, issuing a challenge, hand still holding the holocron wrapped inside heavy cloth.


[member="Samka Derith"]