Dominion The Becoming | SO Dominion of Empty Hex (TSD Event Thread)

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Objective II: Echoes Beyond the Drift
On Mission with: Kivah
​

"Chit, uh- right!"

Naami agreed as Kivah hollered at him to stay on task. The zabrak couldn't let unusual happenings distract him, not even fething space anomalies. He was a trained professional, damn it! Maintaining a semblance of control even while chaos reigned out their viewport.

"Brave sod. I've head tales of actual space dragons snapping ships right out of the sky." She was just pulling on her weapons harness, when the next thing emerged from the clouds. "Aaaand, we're shooting. Okay." Dropping into her seat, she strapped in again and took the controls after pulling on a headset. "Get changed if you want, but hold onto something just in case we get hit by something weird again."

"Space dra-" Naami's dark eyebrows shot up, "...snapping ships," came the disbelieving grumble.

As the cathar took back over on lead, the zabrak fell more comfortably into a support position. Wide eyes considering the unbelievable sight before them and considering just how cavalier his friend was about the situation. He decided to suit up, better safe than sorry and Kivah seemed to have things well under control for the moment. Well- as in control as such an out of control situation could be.

Making his way from the relative stability of his seat, the teen dashed back to where he'd brought along a Kor'ethyr issued suit. Taking her advice, Naami made sure he held firm to the frame of the ship as he changed.

Gods old and new, the zabrak mused to himself, here's to hoping that taking odd jobs with Kivah is slightly less eventful than this.

Soon enough he'd be back in action, springing to her side and ready for whatever came next.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective 1
Interacting with Madrona A’Mia Darth Nefaron
​

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she replied to the Neti seer, offering her an appreciative smile. "It's taken many years to develop the world into what it is, and you are welcome at any time to explore and perform research there. As for the Matron and her brood that agreed to move to Korriban, I will look forward to seeing what you and she are able to develop."

Her smile would remain as she looked back to the Lord of Fear, acknowledging his words and bow with a slight nod of her head. She had been at this game long enough to recognize when someone was trying to be unduly polite and respectful when it was very much the last thing they wanted to be doing or saying. It didn't truly bother her at present, but they both knew that her presence was not something he desired. The report from Allyson had only confirmed that much to her.

"Events feel as they did a few decades ago, when Akala attempted to wrench control of the Force and the material by leveraging the dead," she replied slowly. "Visions and dreams, seemingly unconnected and all of them unsettling, and yet all of them lingering in the back of one's mind, as though it is something we try to forget but just can't quite do so. The very fabric of the galaxy shifts, planets and established routes, things we take for certainties, no longer solid facts. The companion galaxies draw near, soon to be fused with the main, and yet we cannot explain why what should take tens of thousands more years is suddenly about to be accomplished in a matter of days."

She would close her eyes for a moment, just feeling the currents of the Force in this very assembly. They were taut, ebbing and eddying seemingly at random. They promised change, pure and simple and terrifying and glorious. Something had stirred or had been stirring long enough that its effects were now being felt, and it presented such opportunities for research and experimentation. It had been an underlying belief for her own philosophy that change in the galaxy was the only constant, that evolution and progress could not be stopped but only fostered and encouraged. It was why she had pushed the boundaries of sorcery, alchemy, and science forwards however and wherever she could. Her eyes would open again.

"It's all rather exciting to be honest," she continued, a hint of her excitement lingering in her voice. "We're on the verge of an epochal shift in the very fabric of the galaxy and the Force. The cautious and curious will have much to observe and study in the coming era."

She would look over at the Neti, at the woman that only further confirmed the kindredness between them from her question about visions.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: CT-312 //:
//: Elrood //:
//: Attire //:

For the first time, 312 had said more than one word to her. Blinking, Quinn almost lost control of the Force, holding the sithspawn at bay. "Bathroom!!" she screeched. "Jokes!!" Quinn was baffled, her air of elegance briefly fading as she was just now a girl confused at her companion—that same companion who was saving their skin.

The creature struggled against the hold she had on it.

Unlike the trooper, Quinn hesitated, seeing the looming clouds of the other sithspawn preparing to devour them both. Seeing that they were both pretty short, Quinn decided that they would not make good meals and that the creatures would remain starved.

Poor Sithspawn.

A modulated voice broke her trance as orders were given. Knowing that her life was in danger, Quinn didn't fight it. She knew when to stand her ground and demand respect and when to deal with that kind of thing later. Quinn listened intently, staring at the trooper's visor. She was happy she brought it along - without it, she'd be dead already. Quinn nodded, giving the signal that she understood the plan.

Pulling back from holding the creature with the Force, it dove like 312 expected. At that moment, Quinn sprinted, surprisingly agile, being on the heels she was wearing. She moved, jumping over dips in the ground and focusing on the small forest ahead. Behind her, she could hear the trooper covering their retreat, shooting, hitting, and killing whatever threatened them. She felt powerless at that moment, depending on someone she barely knew.

This mission was supposed to be easy: just walk in, survey, and leave. The sithspawn was supposed to be deeper into the world, not literally at its surface.

They found their way into the forest, and the moment Quinn could, she collapsed onto her knees. Her body shook with fear and the strain of running so frantically that she felt as if she had forgotten to breathe. Gasps filled the silence between them, and she let her lungs burn as they filled with air.

Before she could say anything, the trooper at her side suddenly spoke. Her voice filled with disappointment, something that caught the Princess off guard. Looking to the trooper, she watched as they knelt, now making them eye level as she blinked. Most in her position would gloat and demand reward for saving the life of the Imperial Princess. Instead, the soldier apologized and awaited their punishment.

"Why are you saying that?" Quinn asked, still breathless as she pushed back her bangs from her face. "You saved our lives out there; if you didn't think as quickly as you did - I'd be dead, maybe even you too." Quinn shook her head and let her shoulders relax for a moment. As she did, something caught her attention. It was birdlike but didn't seem too interested in them. Her body tensed, waiting for it to summon the others and announce their hiding spot.

Nothing happened, and it continued on its way. Quinn returned her attention to the soldier, remembering something that Kaila had taught her about troopers. She smiled, "At ease."

Hopefully, 312 was able to relax with that command. "There's no punishment; if anything, I'm the one at fault - I didn't think the sithspawn would be this close to the gate. They're supposed to be located deeper in the world - but I'm wondering what's been happening is making them restless."

Quinn looked away from the soldier as she rested, sitting on the ground. She didn't care that the floor was dirty or her clothes would be messy when they left. She was alive, and so was 312.


"You handle the sithspawn pretty well," Remember the mumble she had picked up in all the chaos of them finally finding cover. "Yes, it was a sithspawn, something born from the magic or the alchemy of the Sith Lord. They sometimes are from living creatures that the Sith has transformed into the grotesque - a shape that they desire."

Quinn closed her eyes, trying to remember Taeli's lessons when she was younger, "Or they're reanimated from the dead, twisted into the true liking of their souls."

Another sigh and Quinn shrugged, "They're basically monsters - created by the horrors of the dark side."

Her eyes opened, and she hopefully caught the gaze of the trooper beside her. "Thank you, 312. You did a good job."

 

[CT-312]

//: Quinn Varanin //:
//: Elrood//:
//: Attire //:
//: Weapons: IQA-11 , LO-18D ASSAULT RIFLE, & Vibroblade Knife//:
//: OBJECTIVE III: Veil's Edge //:​

Awaiting a reprimand and punishment, instead greeted with a question—and… praise? At least, it sounded like praise. The kneeling Trooper never really received ‘praise’ before. Confused by what the Sith Lord was spouting. Brow furrowed, blinking at the grass on the ground. CT-312 slightly tilted her helmet to the side. Puzzled. Couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a trap. A compliment would be too absurd. “My life holds no value in this. I only did what my mission required: Escorting you, Princess. That's what I am here for.”, stating facts.

"At ease."

Standing at the command, subtly shrugging the bruised shoulder once more. Briefly, craning her neck to the side, stretching it out. Hoping to relieve some pain. Opening and closing her right hand, making sure it wasn’t affected. CT-312 scanned around, keeping her senses alert for any unwelcome visitors as the Princess was sitting. Only taking a few steps away before her body became rigid at the Sith Lord's words.

"There's no punishment; if anything, I'm the one at fault - I didn't think the sithspawn would be this close to the gate. They're supposed to be located deeper in the world - but I'm wondering what's been happening is making them restless."

It was difficult enough to try and interact as a ‘soldier’ of the Empire, let alone understand the culture. No longer caring of the anticipation of consequences.

“Pardon my unfamiliarity with Empire etiquette. I’m still familiarizing myself with everything–this is all new to me.”

Keeping guard from where she stood. “Sith Spawn?” , listening as the Princesses went into details about the creatures. Sith Lords or ‘magic’ whatever that meant. Created those creatures “Reanimated from the dead…” murmured to herself. Deeply sighing, clenching the grip of her weapon. “Can it be any type of dead? Like long ago dead or fresh.” , her thoughts drifted to the past that haunted her. The dead wanting revenge and who was she to deny them for her acts, if these Angel Sith Spawns are them.

“Dark side?”, despite only talking about the creation and being of the Sith Spawns, it was a lot of new information and terminology the Scout Trooper has never heard of.

"Thank you, 312. You did a good job."

CT-312’s body stilled once more. Enough with the jokes. Turning her gaze to the Princess Sith Lord who was looking at her. ”I do not know if you are still jesting like before. But–”, pivoting her whole body facing towards her contact, eyes locked with visor. “Do not dishonor yourself by claiming fault where there is none.” taking steps back towards the Princess, standing right in front. “I am here at the Princess’s request. It is my duty, nothing more. I intend to complete my task, and I will.”

With a quiet soft gesture, CT-312 extended her hand out for the Sith Lord to grab, hoping to offer some stability to the Princess sitting before her.

If CT-312 was going to die, it would be nice to know exactly what they were doing at a place like this with these ‘Sith Spawns’, especially a Princess. No longer concerned with protocols and etiquette, the Trooper knew that to complete her task to the best of her ability, she needed information. Consequences be damned. “I know why I’m here. Why are you here?”

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: CT-312 //:
//: Elrood //:
//: Attire //:

Quinn finally caught her breath as she sat with 312. It didn't feel as dangerous anymore, but Quinn knew better than to let herself get comfortable. Still, she was thankful for the small reprieve from the sithspawn. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and let 312's quiet inquiry take root in her mind.

She could tell something was lingering behind the helmet's visor. Quinn wondered if the soldier knew how much she was letting on with the small moments of emotion. The best she could do was potentially ease the soldier's mind. Something had been triggered the moment she mentioned that sithspawn could be from the corpses of the dead.

"More often, it's from freshly dead; the souls of the departed are safe, of course. Protected by the living Force." Quinn embellished a little, but she wasn't completely wrong. "It's just the bodies, flesh, and bone that are reanimated and twisted, the person they were, their minds, hopes, dreams, and what have you all gone."

Quinn silently thought about how she would feel to see the face of someone she knew reanimated into a sithspawn or an undead. Despite knowing that they were no longer the person that she knew, it would still haunt her. She pressed her lips tightly together, trying to erase the dark thoughts that began to haunt her. At times, she did wonder if she would ever see Vesta's face in one of the decomposing bodies of a necromancer's army.

The thought broke her heart, but she kept her composure for 312's sake.

A hand was extended, unexpected, but Quinn still took it and the help to stand again. She dusted the ground from the clothing fabric and listened to the trooper continue. "Well, if I don't take fault, you're not allowed to either." She paused, "That's a direct order." Another smile as she looked back out towards where they had come from. Whatever survived, the weapon of 312 lingered. They knew where the two outsiders were, but they couldn't enter.

Curious.

Quinn looked back to 312 and thought over the question posed to her. She was here for several reasons, but none made enough sense to drag poor 312 along with her. Quinn knew this was something she needed to do on her own, but her self-doubt ate away at her confidence.

"Well," she started, a hand resting against her chin as she mused over how to explain it. "My birth mother, she had died - but my other mother couldn't accept that death. So she came to the Nether with help from me, my sister, and others to fetch her soul." Saying the story out loud made Quinn feel odd. It made sense to her, but to others, it would seem foolish or against what nature wanted.

"While we were here, something kept calling my name. Almost like it was trying to convince me to follow it, find it - but I was told not to, and we left. My parents explained that it was a nether demon - something that had been hunting my mother's soul while she was here."

After hearing this, Quinn looked away, wondering if 312 would even want to continue on this journey.

"So, while they told me to leave it alone because it was the keeper of the realm my mother's soul had gone to, my parents didn't make a proper exchange. A soul for a soul. I want to find, and I want to kill it - I've been having nightmares lately, and I think it's the cause of it."

A small nervous laugh forced its way from the Princess as she tried to make light of the tale's end.

"It marked me while I was down here, and I think it wants its payment." Quinn didn't look back to 312, not wanting to see the disappointment on her helmet. She moved towards the forest's edge and then decided to look deeper.

"Let's head farther into the forest. If we stay here, I think we can avoid whatever we encountered earlier." Quinn nodded and started on her way towards the darker bits of the woody area they were hiding in. At that moment, the black cat pounced out of thin air and rubbed itself against 312, then followed its master.

The rustling of leaves echoed as a breeze brought the stench of death and rot through the area. Quinn didn't seem too bothered by it, or she was keeping a brave face in front of the trooper. As they continued to move, another screech echoed from deep within. The weight of rage began to linger, picking at the pair's minds as they continued to move.

Every sound, every aching moment of being in this place began to grate. Quinn blinked her eyes a few times, trying to shake off the feeling. She knew easily that it was from the world or whatever was coming for them next.

"Ignore the feelings. Whatever we're getting closer to is trying to shake us." It took the princess every ounce of her power to keep her voice calm, trying to push whatever dark feelings were swelling in her chest.

 

[CT-312]

//: Quinn Varanin //:
//: Elrood//:
//: Attire //:
//: Weapons: IQA-11 , LO-18D ASSAULT RIFLE, & Vibroblade Knife//:
//: OBJECTIVE III: Veil's Edge //:​

A feeling of relief came before CT-312 before she could even understand it. Unwelcomed. Unearned. Letting out a flicker of breath, she didn’t realize she was holding. ‘Freshly dead’. Not the ones buried in her memory. Her jaw slightly clenched. Why did that matter to her? Guilt, maybe. Fear. Or both. Her thoughts spun.

‘The souls of the departed are safe… protected by the Living Force.’

That sentence sat uncomfortable with CT-312, like a stone dropped in still water. Ripples, she didn’t know how to process. Her grip slightly tightened on her weapon, fingers twitching. Tilting her head, in confusion and conflict. Protected by what? The Living Force? The Princess made it sound like it was a religion. A God or spirits.

CT-312’s breath caught. ‘Do I have a soul?’

Clones weren't born. They were made. Trained, deployed, efficient,... replaceable. CT-312 wasn’t even a clean clone. Born from leftover sequences and crossed DNA strands like spare parts on a table. A patchwork. Leftovers. Too divergent to be a standard issue. Too stubborn to break. Too flawed to be discarded. Air puffed from her nostrils, sharp and bitter. In the end, she was tossed to the Sith Empire. Who knows when the Empire will rid of her too. Did ‘things’ like her even get souls?

Was a soul something you earned through life or was it something only real people had? What did that make her, truly? Was she no different than a Sith Spawn? A monster created. Keeping her eyes forward.

“What if you were never whole to begin with…” she murmured, the words barely forming. Something inside her shifted. Realization came. Nothing was watching over her. CT-312 was empty. A husk.

She didn’t understand any of it. The Trooper didn’t look at the Princess, behind her visor. Not wanting to see the pity–or worse, assurance. Eyes focused on the Sith Lord's hand reaching out grabbing hers. With one fluid motion, helping the Princess stand.

"Well, if I don't take fault, you're not allowed to either." She paused, "That's a direct order."

CT-312’s whole body stiffened, caught off guard by such a simple phrase. ‘That’s a direct order’. Orders the Scout understood. Orders were clean. This wasn’t. No punishment, no blame. This wasn’t how things worked. This wasn’t how she worked. Words came out slower than usual. Hesitant. “...As ordered, Understood.”

Standing silently as the Sith Lord spoke, not interrupting. She watched the Princess explain why she was in the Nether. Her story from the beginning. The Scout’s helmet gave nothing away, but inside. Inside, something stirred. Death, the Nether, resurrection,... a soul for a soul? None of this fitted into any protocols, field manuals, missions she’s been trained on or completed. Yet, the sincerity in the Princess’s voice. The way she spoke–it wasn’t madness. It wasn't a weakness. It was conviction.

The Scout Trooper took note of the Princess’s reactions, the nervous laugh. Especially when her eyes darted away. As if she was trying to shield herself from being seen too clearly. Those things, CT-312 understood. At that moment, the mission changed. Something had marked the Princess. She hadn’t denied it. Instead the Princess had accepted it. Walking straight into it, despite the fear. This wasn’t a political escort or a diplomatic errand. It was something personal. That was either brave or foolish. The Trooper found herself respecting the Princess. Not for the title or bloodline. But for the choice. A subtle twitch at the corners of CT-312’s mouth was the closest thing to a smile. No words. Remembered her fair share of dumb choices too.

Observing the Sith Lord as she faced the other direction. The Princess didn’t hesitate to move deeper into the forest after telling her story. CT-312 didn’t move right away. Her gaze lingered on the Princess’s back. Rolling her right shoulder, the Scout quietly caught up behind her. At that moment a black cat appeared. CT-312's body moved instinctively. Left hand immediately gripping the vibroblade knife from behind her belt. Pausing in completing her actions as the black space cat rubbed itself on her. ‘CAT.’ Teeth clenching, inhaling, ungrasping the knife. Watching as the creature followed the Princess.

Paying attention to their surroundings, the smell of death and rot didn’t phase CT-312 much. Maybe it was because of her helmet’s filter system or that she was so used to it. As they continued the words spoken earlier clung.

'You did a good job.'

Lingered. Even if it was a joke. It sat inside CT-312’s chest. Strange and warm and… confusing. She wasn’t used to this. Praise. Thanks. Let alone someone opening up. Sharing pieces of themselves that were meant to be held by someone else. Not her. No one trained the Camo Trooper how to respond to these things.

Studying attentively to the Princess’s reactions. CT-312 recognized that kind of strength. Acting like she wasn’t going to break under the weight. Pretending it doesn’t bother them. Keep moving. Carry the mission.

And yet… something in the Trooper understood.

It was the sliver of thought, uninvited and troubling that crossed CT-312's mind in that moment. That maybe she wanted to stay with this Sith Lord longer than the mission required. The notion caught her off guard. She had just officially met the Contact. It shouldn't matter. But it bothered her. Was it because the Princess had a different demeanor of how Sith Lords and any other higher authority acted? Polished, poised, but not cruel. Curious. CT-312 grilled it into her head. It was because she was curious. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Or was it better to stay away?

Of all the deployments, this one was by far the most dangerous. Not because of death. No. The thought of death didn’t scare CT-312. Instead, this was testing her. Her identity. Her place. Her worth. It was forcing her to feel. The Princess was already in her head and CT-312 didn’t like that one bit.

A piercing echoing screech pulled CT-312 out of her deep thoughts. There was a constant itch in the back of her mind that couldn’t be scratched. The world around her felt off. Every step felt amplified, like something was clawing at her senses, trying to get in. It was a too-familiar feeling.

‘Focus.’

"Ignore the feelings. Whatever we're getting closer to is trying to shake us."

A low growl formed in CT-312’s throat. Silenced behind the modulator. This thing. This presence. She shifted her stance closer to the Princess. Not protectively. Tactically. Words escaping her mouth almost too quietly in a low, sharp and serious voice. “If it marked you, it made a mistake.”

Demons?

With a step forward, CT-312 closed the gap. No longer following. But walking alongside the Princess.

Her voice came low, modulated through her helmet. “Everyone has demons.” CT-312 stated rather bluntly. Shrugging her bruised right shoulder. The Scout Trooper kept her focus on the direction of the screech. Not surprised if the Princess gave her a questionable look. “Me?” Her voice was neutral, but her mind wasn’t. Thoughts started to recall events.

The outpost. The order. The thermal detonators. Explosions that lit up the sky, taking out that thing that killed her squad. Gone.

Woostri. The Force-Light behemoth golem that killed other Troopers and nearly crushed her. Denoting it and herself. Barely surviving. Erased.

And then the angels. Those twisted, winged Sithspawn. Shot Dead.

“No.” tone dipped into something colder, deeper. “I’ve killed my demons.” Her grip tightened on her weapon. Thinking about all the horrors she’s faced since doing missions for the Empire.

A beat. ‘A monster created.’ Clones didn’t have souls—especially not her. Inhaling deeply, CT-312 would be the monster demons learned to fear.

“And I’ll kill them again.” she paused. Turning her head, visor locking eyes with the Princess. Not a trace of doubt in CT-312's voice, “I’ll kill your demon too.” A promise.

Slinging the assault rifle over her shoulder, CT-312 reached for the sniper rifle strapped across her back. Her hands were smooth. Mechanical. Muscle memory forged by repetition. She flipped the safety on with a soft click, ejected the cartridge, and pulled back the bolt. A single round spat free. The Scout Trooper caught it midair without looking. Sliding it back into the mag with a quiet snick, and handed the rifle to the Princess.

"Here," CT-312 said, her voice low beneath the helmet. "You'll see farther with the scope." She hesitated for a heartbeat. A thought brushed her mind. Had the Sith Lords ever even held a blaster? From what she could recall, the Trooper doubted it. "Forgive my intrusion." CT-312 murmured in a formal tone. Carefully, almost reluctantly, the Scout reached out with her gloved hands and adjusted the Princess's grip. Guiding them into proper placement. "That'll make it easier to line up with the scope" She added, voice low, almost gentle. Taking a step back from the Princess. "It'll help you find your target faster." the edge of her voice easing.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Objective One

"I cannot say anything with certainty. The force has been tumultuous as of late, the hyperlane to Anoat has become less reliable, and I find myself plagued by disturbances. But such things are occurring across the Empire, so I cannot say I have experienced anything unique."

Nefaron turned slightly to engage Lady Raaf, posing a question of his own.

"You know far more than we do, perhaps you could interpret our friends' visions? I am eager to hear what you make of all this, Lady Arcanix."

Taeli Raaf responded with the practiced ease of one that had been at this game for a long time. A'Mia observed them both with interest as they hashed things out a bit. No doubt, she would need to speak with each of them after this gathering.

"It's all rather exciting to be honest," she continued, a hint of her excitement lingering in her voice. "We're on the verge of an epochal shift in the very fabric of the galaxy and the Force. The cautious and curious will have much to observe and study in the coming era."

A'Mia tilted her head in what she hoped would be perceived as an empathetic acknowledgement of the troubles Darth Nefaron had faced. In truth, she knew little about such emotive non-verbal communication but she was certainly trying. As Lady Raaf answered and continued on, the neti found that she agreed with the woman and wishes to share her own visions to see if either of them might have thoughts.

"Recent reveries have come to me as if memories, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that they come to me from a time not yet experienced. My vision is already strange, or so I have come to learn- though you perhaps know personally of what I speak, Lady Raaf. The Weave is always present for me, but lately it is as if I can see what is and what could be. They appear before me concurrently, and sometimes they shift- like two pieces of ancient draft paper, schematics of what was and that which is on the horizon."

A'Mia would elaborate from there and answer questions as clinically as she could, though the subject matter made that somewhat challenging.