Public The Dark Gathering

[Muk Moadda]

OOC/ Since nobody's flagged Muk's target as their ship, I'm going with 'small ship owned by an NPC Knight of Ren.'

IC/ The airlock's lock yielded, as did the adjacent wires for the stock security system. This docking bay offered plenty of special, appealing ships, but this one had enough familiar components for a quick safe theft. Muk slipped aboard.

Inside, the ship was dark and — when he took off his helmet — smelled like old blood. He grimaced and put the helmet back on as he passed a particularly pungent room: a weapons rack, well-used and low on cleaning products.

Settling into the control chair, he began hotwiring the ignition while keeping one eye on the hard-vacuum docking bay outside. He'd deactivated the bay's atmospheric field to slow potential interference, but you could never be too careful.

 

[Vera Tillian]

TERMINUS
REFUELING STATION
NE-1 Nej Tane Jessica Bowers Jaeviko Fitzsix Dash Colton Doctor Røyskatt ”Roy” Besh Desbre Gensan BB-610 TE-236 Tovald Kahmen’’a Torc Valhorn

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It was the urgency of the summons that jolted Vera out of sleep and over to the captain's console. She punched her code into the transmitter before she was even cognizant of what was happening.

"Lieutenant Commander Tillian," Vera said as a figure materialized in the hologram, saluting at the figure on the other end.

"We have the highest priority distress signal we need a ship to respond to," the Sullustan officer said. "Polis Massa. Anticipate mass casualties of some sort. Intel is unclear and contradictory, and enemy forces unknown."

"The Endurance is in drydock for a refueling. She won't be ready for another 32 standard hours."

"We understand," the reply came, with a curt nod as the Sullustan double checked a datapad. "We have a new ship in the Terminus drydock undergoing inspection- a Terrik-series attack frigate. It has been temporarily designated the RRS Endurance. You and your core crew-members are to take command of the vessel. The ship has a full complement that will get you all up to speed en route. Speed is of the essence. You are breveted as Captain for the duration of this mission. Any questions?"

"No, ma'am," Vera asked. "Will intel be redirected to us?"

"As soon as we can get it in. If no further questions, you are dismissed. A databurst has been sent to you already."

The transmission came to an end with a fizz and Vera began throwing on her uniform, sending a message to her crew.

Rendezvous at docking bay 1-1-4-9-3. Twenty minutes. Bring all officers and core crew. Immediate departure.

That was all she could do for now, but there would be a great deal more she would have to do. She grabbed her shore bag and rushed out from the room, darting past a Guild steward.

"Immediate departure," Vera called behind her, pausing at the corner. "Can you see the rest of my belongings are stored safely?"

"Of course," the steward said, smoothly turning to the wooden door. "We will store them in the Guildhall safe for your return." Vera saluted and sealed the front of her jacket as she ran through the quiet halls, darting past the assorted captains and officers beginning their day.

A passing air-taxi screamed through the Terminus cityscape as Vera focused herself on the qualities of the ship she would now be commanding.

It was a beautiful ship, sleek and deadly, but she took no time to stare at it. Nor did being breveted to captain excite her much. It was only temporary and this was a warship, which she had not particularly wanted. She loathed war, but it was a necessary provision of the job.

The Outer Rim could not be safe and the Service could not do their job if they weren't willing to fight. But the thought of being in command of a warship, perhaps even intentionally shooting to kill hundreds of sentient, churned in her stomach. She may not pull the trigger, but it would be her orders that lead to sentient dying.

"Captain on deck!" The call resounded from the enlisted offer at the boarding ramp. "We've already got the engines running and pre-checks underway. Some supplies have been jettisoned to make room for more emergency rescue equipment."

"Very good, Petty Officer," Vera said, stepping through the hatch. "It's good to meet you. What's your name?"

"Petty Officer Third Class Higal Tren, Captain," the Imyni responded with a feathery salute. Vera returned it.

"Well, Petty Officer, if the rest of us can be as prompt as you, this situation should be no problem."

The smile was hidden quickly, but Vera just caught it. The turbolift shot upwards towards the upper decks where she could go to the bridge. Klaxons sounded through the halls and crew hurried through the corridors to their stations.

This was it then. She'd gotten a picket-ship safely away from a battlecruiser once before and she would make karking sure as many as possible survived this one as well.

 

[Firrerreo]

"Wait, what."

Firrerreo was late. Always late. Or, just on time. No, he wasn't on time. But he'd be hard pressed to think otherwise! He arrived precisely when he meant to! And immediately was lost. He tilted his head, glancing to the small gathering of fellow darksiders, fully expecting some sort of philosophical discussion on the ins and ours of the Dark Side. Except, some seemed to be gearing for.. Combat?

What had he just walked into?

"Are we fighting people? Why are we fighting?"

Kyrel Ren | Pheretha Ren | The Seer | Khohnuirrann Stormmantle XXXVI

 

[TE-236]

Vera Tillian

Rendezvous at docking bay 1-1-4-9-3. Twenty minutes. Bring all officers and core crew. Immediate departure.

TE-236 activated upon receiving the message. His systems powering on, he activated quickly, bringing all of his systems online. He looked around, examining the area around him. He was in a charging station with multiple other droids from their crew. Because of the message, they were all powering up too and preparing to disembark. For a summons, this must be... very important, to say the least.

Gin stepped forward, collecting his few belongings. He quickly strode forward, his metal footsteps clanging against the ground. The other droids followed him, moving towards their destination. Luckily, the charging stations was fairly close to the docking bay they were to rendezvous at. He strode through the halls, passing multiple workers and engineers. No doubt everyone else was already rushing to reach the ship and prepare for departure.

Gin reached the docking bay, and stepped forward towards the ship. Multiple other crewmates were already rushing around, prepping the ship as quickly as possible. And the ship itself... a warship. It was beautiful. Gin downloaded the ship's schematics to get a better understanding of it. Finally... a ship with some punch to it. He could get used to this. He was used to operating warships like this in conflict areas. Finally, he would be in his element. Now, he could excel. He was originally programmed as a droid for killing, after all. It was second nature to him.

Gin walked up the ramp, boarding the frigate. He headed for the turbolift, taking it up to the bridge. The turbolift slowed to a halt, then the doors slid open, Gin stepping out and walking forward. He arrived at the bridge, reaching his station and typing away on the terminal. He checked the systems of the ship, watching them come online one at a time. The ship woke up, purring to life, waking from its sleep. Gin continued typing on his terminal, continuing to monitor the systems.

Gin turned his head, and saw Captain Tillian walk into the bridge, stepping inside with urgency. "Captain Tillian," Gin said, nodding. "The ship is operational and ready for departure at your command." He reported.

"This ship is... fascinating. Its armament capabilities are astounding, and its targeting array is incredibly advanced. Are we expecting a fight, Captain?" He asked.

 

[Tovald Kahmen’’a]

Location: Terminus Refueling Station
Tags: Vera Tillian | Open

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Beep, beep. A light shone red on his desk, a message is being paged through. He let it play.

A new rescue? He was always willing to help others, no questions at all. No complaints, well he did complain only slightly when Spiders were involved, small ones were no bother, he can give them their marching orders courtesy of a small glass and a drink mat, the bigger ones made his spine tingle, why, oh why did he go fight the Bryn.

He knew damned well he had to because the genocidal lobsters would not stop until everything was ash even his home and people, which would have been the case further down the line. Since then he noted a rapidly growing Arachnophobia in the months afterwards, which was rather contentious among his profession as fearlessness was how they survived after all.

As he had not moved from his desk on the Cyclone, his menagerie of cats decided that he will be a delightful cushion. So he had been receiving messages without moving for the last 15 minutes. He knows the golden rules of being around cats, but he'll need to get to the start point in 2 minutes. So he had to get up and join them. Making sure that his companions were secured safely, he headed to the Rondez Vous point with seconds to spare, the bridge. He shuffled in avoiding any bumps along the way.

 

[Torc Valhorn]

Location: Terrick
Tags: TE-236 | Tovald Kahmen’’a | Vera Tillian

It wasn't the Endurance.

Torc was on the engineering deck, listening to the current Chief Engineer as he explained the starships subsystems, "We're leaving drydock at haste, bypassing a lot of pre-flight checks in the process. We'll have to work double-time to make sure nothing fails us before we reach Polis Massa." The Talortai said, towering over him.

"Quite. So what do you propose?" He asked, not wishing to take command of another engineers ship. "Your expertise is shielding if you can take a team to ensure the emitters are fully operational and reinforce the conduits. Meanwhile, I will take some technicians to review the weapon and life support systems. Once done, I will take command of the engine room and you coordinate the Damage Control teams?"

Torc considered for a moment, "I can overclock the conduits while I am at it. I don't think you'll get much more with everything dedicated to weapon systems but every little will count."

"Agreed. Our frequency is 146.4 you can use it to monitor comms between my staff, and reach me if they give you any trouble."

 

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Dark Gathering​

Location: En-route to Distress Signal

"Something terrible, I think, Pyeth,"

That did not bode well, Pyeth thought while listening tentatively to his mentor. Tiland was slow but careful with his words, detailing a picture that left Pyeth feeling uncertain. Sith. Cultists. Some Padawans might be excited by those words, a chance to prove themselves, but not Pyeth. Those were not titles to be taken lightly. He would be in real danger, and the Rishii stared down at his Lightsaber, wondering if he was ready for this?

Pyeth watched in silence as Tiland ran his warm hand over a pendent; to Peth's surprise, it reacted to Tiland's touch. Then his mentor boldly claimed others were moving against them?

"How do you know this?" He asked, trying to hide his nerves. Was he saying it to comfort him? Maybe. But Pyeth would be the first to admit he knew too little of the Force to know the true extent of its influence on the Galaxy at large. He couldn't doubt Tiland, not now. He nodded slowly if uncharacteristically cautious.

"Right. Tea." Pyeth agreed, taking comfort in the familiarity of the ceremony.

Taking a seat, Pyeth inhaled a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was worse now, as though someone was projecting a shadow that warped and twisted the Force into unnatural waves. In response, Pyeth resorted to old tricks trying to plant himself on the familiar shores of his homeworld. It worked for only a moment.

Doubt turned emerald waters into oceans of blood. Sands turned white as bone meal, and whispers carried on the wind while the forests burned in volcanic ash. For a moment, it threatened to consume him, he panicked, caught up in a nightmare of his own making but one thing remained. He only needed to find it.

Tag: Tiland Kortun | The Seer

 

[Ikrarbytec]

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T H E D A R K G A T H E R I N G​

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The Dark Thane Lord rested his power hammer polearm onto his shoulder, peering over with his glowing orange eyes at the final arrival at the gathering as of yet. They had waited here gathered within this room, but they had no enemy to fight yet. He had to wonder if the lord upon his pile of bones would say something to get results. Otherwise they had arrived here for no other reason than to waste time. Although he didn't doubt their victory against the jedi forces that might arrive not least the power boost of the dark battle meditation practiced by the (The Seer). The Forgemaster knew within his greedy heart that strength alone would not defeat the light side of the force, to those that think that Ashla has a voice. Nothing but a self-delusion to justify genocide upon supposed followers of Bogan. No one within this galaxy was without sin nor glory, for they all committed war crimes then denied them out of some concept that war was illegal and massive losses were not to be expected. ​

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Since no one else had answered the question from Lord ( Firrerreo ) to whom had arrived late and then was no doubt confused. The man showed his emotions like an open book and the dark dwarrow would pity him if he cared. This dark gathering would begin the revival of bogan in a more refined setting, unlike the pointless barbarism of the Brotherhood of the Maw. The Dark Forgemaster had heard rumors of their conquests and defeats, although powerful underneath their self-proclaimed sith'ari leader. Although he didn't care for the concept of titles and simply went by his name although he formerlyly addressed himself as the Dark Thane Lord and Forgemaster of Banathuron. To the dwarrow the concept of strength and power was paramount to securing victory, not subtle actions or manipulations of societies which could be exposed and purged by the light side of the force. ​

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"Fighting nay at this time, but proceeding to engage in combat in a few minutes. Most definitely. The Forces of Ashla are coming which makes me question if this was simply a trap to draw us here. Or do you have something else in mind?" The Dark Dwarrow righly question, pointing his hammer in the direction to that mighty lord seated upon his bone throne. Although he did such action in a non-threatening manner to avoid pointless bloodshed when they needed their numbers to defeat the arriving enemy. They would no doubt have to survive using every trick within the primordial playbook.​

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If their gathering's leader had a plan, he would not say nor would the dwarrow ask again. The true purpose of their gathering remained unclear, but it was starting to seem a little suspicious that those who had answered where among the relatively unknown. He himself was unknown to the galaxy at this time and perhaps fate guided him here to serve a larger purpose than simply dwelling in his exile from Banathuron. The Dark Thane Lord would gather his like minded brethren to form an army of dwarrow, to either serve in the grand purpose of this gathering or to strike out on its own. ​

Allies: The Seer Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren Eschara Ren Rul Tondar CETCOM Firrerreo ​

Neutral: Shade of Decay ​

Enemies: Muk Moadda Tiland Kortun Kaia Starchaser Pyeth Raffinki ​

 

[Muk Moadda]

The stinking evil ship eased out of the docking bay. It grated against some other stinking evil ship on the way out, wrecking both paint jobs.

Muk's orbiting freighter had docking clamps for acquisitions just like this. He steered his new prize into place.

After a few minutes of clearing the usual risks and deactivating the appropriate doodads, he slipped through the airlock and returned to his own boat.

There was an evolving situation here, to be sure. The stolen boat's computers, once booted up nice and safely, might play a role in that situation in due course. Might. All above Muk's pay grade.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel remained seated his pensive gaze watched the one known as the seer sit cross legged before him. His own sending of the transmission was deliberate as he had sent it in hopes of drawing more dark ones out, and if not than perhaps those who would follow the light . Either way it made no difference to the Ren, for him this was a test to see which shadows had stirred out in the Rim in the absence of government to keep everything in check. As was its nature lawlessness had ruled and would continue to rule the Outer Rim.

He remained quiet, as he reached out and felt a chaotic mix stirring. The holoprojector before him displayed signals. Some he could recognize under his command as a Wrath of the Maw, and others seemed to be a force of light siders that he had predicted would arrive. As was the crucial lesson he always learned that the slaughter of the innocent was needed to bring the light here.

When the Dwarf questioned him, the Master of Ren rose his monstrous form. Memories flashes of facing someone of his stature before. At first there was an uneasy silence as Kyrel moved to step forth. His anger was at a simmer, as he focused his attention on the signals and the tremors in the Force. “Perhaps this an even bigger escalation. I’ve gathered you all here for a chance at taking a new frontier. I feel that such a plan maybe stopped in it’s infancy, so I brought our enemies here. In hopes of seeing what would occur with this exercise. To wait and use such a combined might to surprise them. If need be we will leave.” He said calmly to group of dark siders. Even as he felt the enemy growing outside, and felt something familiar and something unnerving he couldn’t shake it off.

Pheretha Ren Rul Tondar Eschara Ren The Seer Shade of Decay CETCOM Khohnuirrann Stormmantle XXXVI Firrerreo

Tiland Kortun Kaia Starchaser Muk Moadda Pyeth Raffinki Vera Tillian

 

[Vera Tillian]

TE-236 Tovald Kahmen’’a Torc Valhorn CETCOM
Temporary Command: RRS Endurance

Vera settled into the captain's chair on the bridge and secured her safety harness as her eyes settled across the variety of displays and controls that filled the bustle of the bridge. It had the familiar professional, industrial feel as her ordinary ship, but there was something different about this one.

It was more... pragmatic. Where the Rescue Service cutters were designed with a certain aesthetic sensibility, this was not. It was pure business, and far less comfortable. Extra bulkheads, extra armor, all the redundant systems, it made the ship much more cramped than she preferred. But a familiar voice spoke nearby and she spun the chair.

"Mr. Gin, excellent to have you aboard," Vera responded. "And yes, sadly it is a warship, although I cannot say with certainty if there is a fight coming." She spun back around to survey the rest of the bridge. A comm chimed and she acknowledged it. "Engineering, what's our status so far? How quickly can we get out of orbit?"

More footsteps shuffled in through the hatch and she turned, giving a smile. "Mr. Tovald! Excellent. I'm glad you were available for this mission. Grab a seat. This is Gin." She gestured towards the tactical droid. "You both have highly valuable experiences and skillsets that will complement each other. We don't know what we're getting into yet, so I need you two to start calculating and assessing the status of the Polis Massa asteroids. Gravity fields, known orbits, anything that can prepare us for what we might find. Intel will be filtering in en route and I'll have it directed to both of you."

She paused for a moment to study the readouts on her display. "We have priority departure and they have cleared the lanes for us." Vera nodded, taking a deep breath but kept her torso still so it was harder for the others to see. Confidence. Competence. Captaincy. The three Cs that had been drilled into her during the Service officer training. The decisions would fall to her so she had to be sure the crew could trust those decisions. Another tap on the console, "Engineering, we are cleared for launch. Slow acceleration to orbit as soon as ready. Mr. Torc, keep a close eye on the engine performance for me. I would like a full assessment of her capabilities by the time we revert to realspace at the destination."

Vera straightened her shoulders and met the gazes of everyone on the bridge. "Well, everyone. I suppose it is time we show the galaxy what the Rimward Rescue Service exists for. No distress call unanswered, no crisis ignored, no threat fled." She strengthened her words from her diaphragm as she spoke. "Many have let the Outer Rim down. Let us now prove ourselves worthy of the trust for which we aspire. May the Force be with us all. Helm, set course for orbit. Let us be on our way."

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Pyeth Raffinki The Seer

The view from the viewport shifted to the blue streaks as the small yacht accelerated rapidly on its new trajectory. Tiland busied his hands with the materials. First, the water on the small heater and the intentional choices of the tea-leaves, picking the ones which felt right. He never knew what made them right, only that some felt more appropriate for some circumstances than others. These he bruised gently and set aside as the water heated.

One cup for himself. One for Pyeth. One for the captain. Then the tea-pot and the strainer in which he placed the leaves, letting their crisp, bracing scent waft into the ship. Mint. Cinnamon. Lavendar. Sharp, rich, and calming. An interesting combination, and not one he tended to end up with.

He smiled faintly, but then frowned as he felt the sensations emanating from his young companion. Darkness, violence, and fear disrupt the meditative ritual. Understandable. The unknown of the Dark was a terrible thing to behold the first time.

"Easy, my friend..." Tiland said softly, pouring the three cups of tea and pushing one to Pyeth. "Focus on the physical moment. Let the warmth of the tea fill your mind. Fear and concern are natural, but they are also context-dependent. Shift your interpretation of the sensations. Fear, excitement, anxiety, love. Such emotions are much the same, physically speaking. Only the context and our interpretation shape them."

He paused for a moment, feeling the ripples of the Dark through the Force growing stronger with each moment. Intentional now, shaped, and targeted. Intriguing. Certainly concerning, but he would not mention it.

"In Jedi tradition, there is the concept of the meditation of emptiness," Tiland continued. "It is a deep meditation to a place of emotional stillness, where thought and memory and sensation are distant shadows, and we can connect most deeply with the Force. It is far from an easy technique, but this may be the most pressing moment for you to gain some familiarity with it." He kept his voice calm and soft, cradling the cup of tea in his hand.

"It will provide some warding against those who would use the Dark Side to affect our minds, as well as make us more receptive to how the Force is moving." Anzati were naturally hypnotic when they chose to be, but Tiland did not choose that option. A gentle, calming presence was more useful in all circumstances like this. Each sentient's journey was different, after all.

"Reversion in about fifteen minutes!" The captain called back to them. "Starting to pick up some transponder signals, but they're old now, and scrambled still. I'll see if I can sort through the comm garbage to get some better idea."

"Thank you, captain," Tiland replied over his shoulder. "I will trust your judgment on our approach." He turned back to Pyeth. "Let thoughts come and go naturally, without fighting them. Acknowledge them, no matter how dark, and greet them. They reveal our fears to us and that knowledge can bring wisdom, and thus, a certain kind of strength. Only by knowing our weaknesses and accepting who we truly are, not who we think we are or wish we were, can we overcome all the lies and threats of the Dark Side."

 

[TE-236]

Vera Tillian Tovald Kahmen’’a Torc Valhorn

"Mr. Gin, excellent to have you aboard," Vera responded. "And yes, sadly it is a warship, although I cannot say with certainty if there is a fight coming."

Gin nodded, though he was confused when she said sadly it was a warship. Perhaps she wasn't used to operating a warship? Or perhaps she didn't like operating them? He knew many organics didn't like to engage in conflict, which he didn't truly understand, but there was no fully figuring out organics. They were too... fickle. But it did turn out that there was possibly a battle that they were going to be entering, which confirmed his suspicions.

"Understood. I will arm the weapons in the eventuality that we enter a conflict zone." He replied, typing on his terminal, arming the weapon systems and priming them to be ready to fire at a moment's notice. The Captain might not like the fact that they could enter a combat zone, but it was still good to at least be prepared for the eventuality. If they weren't prepared, they could be in serious trouble.

Gin looked up and turned his head when someone else entered the bridge. He looked at the figure, looking at them as he typed on his console.

"Mr. Tovald! Excellent. I'm glad you were available for this mission. Grab a seat. This is Gin."

Gin nodded at the man in greeting.

"You both have highly valuable experiences and skillsets that will complement each other. We don't know what we're getting into yet, so I need you two to start calculating and assessing the status of the Polis Massa asteroids. Gravity fields, known orbits, anything that can prepare us for what we might find. Intel will be filtering in en route and I'll have it directed to both of you."

"Understood, Captain. I will begin calculations and send anything I calculate to Mr. Tovald." Gin affirmed, nodding. He hooked up to the database and downloaded the area information from the navigation computer. He began to run the data and information through many calculations, calculating every possible possibility and data point, examining as many calculations as quickly as possible. At the same time, he continued to type on his console, monitoring information constantly being received by the ship's multiple computers. Still multitasking, he also finished arming all weapon systems, bringing all weapons primed and ready.

Time to get this show started.

 

[Dash Colton]

Vera Tillian Tovald Kahmen’’a Torc Valhorn TE-236

One boot on his foot, the other slung over his shoulder was the best Dash Colton could muster in his current state. Tired and weary eyed, he did not have the sense of duty of a captain nor the instant surge of an on/off switch that came with being a droid. When alarms go off while he is half asleep, it takes several attempts to find the snooze button, let alone put on pants. Thankfully a quick check of his waist did confirm that he was indeed wearing pants, as he let out a yawn while stumbling into the shuttle bay of the... the ummm... the...

A quick glance at his coffee mug someone had handed to him answered his question.

RRS Endurance... very official, he mused to himself.

He nodded to an ensign that did not seem to be impressed with Dash's current state, though he imagine many felt like he looked given the quick timing of it all. He just wore his current state on his shoulder. Dash was able to muster a "Hi," as he took a seat and strapped himself in for launch. The ensign responded with a huff, as she returned to her duties do a once over.

A systems check was called prior to departure. Dash surveyed the room, counted a few shuttles and some personnel, and keyed a comm near him, "Shuttle bay and landing party standing by," he said, then took a sip of his coffee, shook his head side to side, and took a moment to put on his other boot.

A large exhale escaped his lips, unaware of what awaited him, but certain it wasn't worth getting out of bed for, as he settled himself in to his not very comfortable chair. A rocking back in forth in it did not improve matters, as it appeared as stiff as the rest of the crew.

"Hey, you there..." he said to the Ensign, he cast him a glare that would have melted all but the coldest places of Hoth.

"Know where I can get more coffee?" he asked, to which she responded with a snort and returned to her duties.

Maybe the crew was stiffer than the chair, he mused to himself.

 

[Rul Tondar]

The Dark Gathering
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Many more had entered the gathering, creatures of different shapes and sizes. It seemed to Rul that this was a popular place to hold sinister cult dialogues as even beyond this room life forms could be felt however, they were not like the devils assembling here.

It was still seemingly unknown to what the exact purpose of this masterfully crafted plan was but whatever it could be Rul was here to stay. The Sith was here for a reason at least so he believed, the reason might be to die a slow agonizing death or to flourish in the blood of his mutilated victims either would please his voices.

The beast was topped upon a throne of grinding bones as it communicated to the crowd, words describing why they were here and what was to come in the following hours, were gifted to the listeners. A fight, the Skakoan was no master with the blade nor force but now was too late to back down, he had an urge to impress and would certainly act on it. The problem was Rul came rather unprepared and was lacking any sort of armoury, a foolish mistake but nonetheless something that was too late to change.

The insane Sith chuckled in the darkness of his corner as he realized what kind of diabolical circumstance he was backed in but he feared not as Rul embraced the pain to come and the pain of the past. All he could hope for was the strength of those around him that would keep the pest away from him giving the Sith time enough to tear their bloody flesh bags that seconded as bodies apart crushing all hope they had in a happy ending.

And if all things went to hell he could always heed the words of the beast and flee in the beauty of the chaos.

Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren The Seer Eschara Ren Shade of Decay Firrerreo Khohnuirrann Stormmantle XXXVI

Theme By Annasari

 

[Ikrarbytec]

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T H E D A R K G A T H E R I N G​

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The Dark Dwarrow waited for a response from the lord of this gathering, to whom was deep in thought about their current situation. The Dark Thane Lord knew that fighting them directly would be folly due to one single fact. The children of ashla work together like a well oiled machine while the spawn of bogan work together only for their own self-interest and little more. This gathering was going to turn into a disaster if the jedi even arrived although it soon came apparent that they were standing around while their enemy no doubt discussed some form of strategy in order to investigate such a distress call. The Dwarrow was unintimidated when the giant moved forward from his throne, clearly unhinged emotionally due to perceiving his words as an insult. It mattered not for the dwarrow never surrender willingly and can take more punishment than one would normally suspect of people his size. He glared at the man with no ounce of fear within his glowing orange eyes, listening when he spoke about them taking part in his overall plan. To whom that plan was, is anyone's guess but it likely had to do with gathering like minded individuals to serve their vision. ​

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The Dark Dwarrow knew that they were only here to serve as pawns within this lord's game, but pawns they would be for now until an opportunity arose to dispose of the master in favor of them. Such was the way of the sith, the strong survive while the weak perish underneath their iron will. The dark dwarrow would remain loyal to this gathering until the time came when he found new partners who shared his own vision of greed and wealth. Although he couldn't ignore the fact that their enemy had been drawn here willingly knowing the consequences should they fail in defeating them. Escape was possible but there was nothing preventing the jedi from simply force lighting them into smithereens. The Dark Dwarrow had one advantage and that was his low force signature, although considerably powerful he rarely used his powers in combat due to the possibility of turning into stone during the conjuration. His presence wouldn't be so easily detected compared to the battle mediation performed currently by the occupant that sat on the floor. He grew restless as they were waiting for the jedi to barge into the party, and as such decided to make his move. ​

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"Waiting around for the children of ashla to arrive within this hall, is giving them the advantage. Thus I am moving outside to patrol the hallways and make an escape route if necessary by bashing their skulls in with my hammer." Khoh said, grabbing his polearm power hammer and moving his way through the door into the many hallways that occupied the place. His short stature would no doubt be laughed at by the jedi but they would make that mistake last as their breath slowly faded from their lips. He moved on armored legs to patrol, checking around corners and the like to spot the jedi if they had arrived yet. His presence not entirely gone but faded due to not using the force for a considerable while. ​

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Allies: The Seer Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren Eschara Ren Rul Tondar CETCOM Firrerreo ​

Neutral: Shade of Decay ​

Enemies: Muk Moadda Tiland Kortun Kaia Starchaser Pyeth Raffinki ​

 

[Chassella]

Location: Polis Massa Research Base - Polis Massa
Objective: Reveal Herself to the Dark
Allies: Dark ( Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren The Seer Rul Tondar Eschara Ren Khohnuirrann Stormmantle XXXVI Shade of Decay Firrerreo )
Neutral: FD ( CETCOM ) │ Independent (Muk Moadda)
Enemies: Light ( Tiland Kortun Kaia Starchaser Pyeth Raffinki Vera Tillian TE-236 Tovald Kahmen’’a Torc Valhorn Dash Colton )

She was well and truly off the beaten path.

The diminutive assassin strode through the halls of the research base, having arrived in response to the initial signal from the Master of Ren. The stench of death hung thick in the air, in the wake of a massacre which made the assassination she had carried out on Vassek look like child’s play in comparison. A part of her was disgusted at the wanton, undisciplined slaughter. Indeed, this was no display of skill or finesse. Only a show of ruthlessness and brutality driven by the whims of the dark side.

It was exactly what she had been taught to reject in the Eight Arrows Sect.

And yet, Discordia was dead. It had taken a long time for Chassella to accept that, the realization driving her into a depression that had caused her to neglect her training and surrender to weakness. The Elzeri had spent almost her entire life preparing to serve a Goddess, only to realize that she was either dead or had simply abandoned her followers.

Now, Chassella would pledge herself to a new God, one that ran contrary to the principles of the last.

The dark side of the Force was a font of power beyond mortal conception. It was natural to worship it and those who were capable of tapping into its reservoir. While Chassella was familiar with the dark side, those in the Eight Arrows Sect had failed to fully embrace it. Perhaps that failure was why Discordia had abandoned them. Regardless, Chassella saw strength in it, even though she was unable to wield the Force herself. Nevertheless, the dark side was a path towards the perfection she craved, an avenue for her to ascend beyond the weakness she had wallowed in for too long.

Entering the room of the meeting, Chassella listened quietly as the husk-like figure of the Master of Ren spoke, his voice a gravelly timbre that hinted at the raw anger simmering within. It was her first thought to see this as a trap. However, the assassin eventually concluded that this was a test, intended to weed out those weak of mind and spirit.

In this, she was determined to prove that she was worthy.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Chassella’s War Dress
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • Grappling Line
    • Wide-Beam Sonic Stunner
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Chassella’s Chakrams
• Chassella's Twin Lightsaber Shotos

 

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Dark Gathering​

Location: En-route to Distress Signal

Pyeth opened his eyes several moments later, wide and trembling. He stared at Tiland as though he were a stranger, spending a good few moments in silence as he regained his composure.

"Easy, my friend..."

Listening, he inhaled the aromas deep into his core. He remained apprehensive, partly distracted by the events unfolding on his homeworld but after hearing that Tiland was counting on him, his deposition changed, "I allowed myself to get distracted." Pyeth admitted taking the cup into his hands.

He considered Tilands wisdom trying to make sense of it and letting that anchor him back into reality, he had questions. He always had questions, he always had questions, but those could wait until another day. "Your suggesting someone is trying to throw us off balance, another Force User?" Pyeth replied, "And that I shouldn't fight it, but instead accept it?"

Pyeth took the tea into his hands, taking a light sip and using it to try and focus his thoughts. He was afraid of failing, falling short of Tiland's expectations much as he did of his father and where that would inevitably lead. Rishi, of course, but everyone already knew that. Pyeth allowed the thoughts to wash over him, trying to find serenity in the chaos of the moment.

He did not succeed, at least not completely, but what he did find was a far greater improvement over what he'd previously experienced. "Thank you Tiland."

Tag: Tiland Kortun

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Pyeth Raffinki Muk Moadda Kaia Starchaser Chassella Kyrel Ren Pheretha Ren The Seer Rul Tondar Eschara Ren Khohnuirrann Stormmantle XXXVI Shade of Decay Firrerreo

They were close now, very close. He could feel the Dark radiating through the Force now, and a long-familiar presence. That Ren from Dagobah. What had his name been? Kyral? Something like that? He hadn't paid too much attention to the intelligence reports from ORION at the time, or the information on the First Order. And he certainly had lost track of where the Ren had gone after the First Order's dissolution.

Were they returning? Was that what prompted Kyrel's actions? It was possible, although it seemed out of character for a massacre like this. Unless, someone other than Natasi was taking command of the First Order. Perhaps Kyral as the Supreme Leader?

His mind turned the thoughts over in his mind as Pyeth readjusted himself, until his young friend spoke again.

"Indeed," Tiland said softly, eyes half-closed. "Are you familiar with battle meditation? This strikes me as a feeling of the most malicious sort of battle meditation. And do not feel ashamed for getting distracted. It is natural for that to happen, and in many cases, can be a way in which the Force speaks, warning us of something." He frowned, eyes open now as the thrum of the engine shifted, preparing for the reversion. "Battle meditation, when used maliciously, invokes terror, fear, and despair in its targets. It distracts, robs us of the will to fight, and can be paralyzing."

He quirked a smile at Pyeth. "But fortunately, we are not Sith who rely on our emotions for our strength. Stillness can be our strength, regardless of what our emotions are. We can learn to discipline our minds over time, and our bodies, to not be at the whims of emotion, which are ways our minds and bodies tell us of our surroundings. I am not like some more... traditional Jedi who teach us to ignore our emotions and repress them. That, I think, can be equally unhealthy. But to find the balance- accept our emotions, welcome them, and let them pass, like leaves in a stream."

The ship shuddered briefly as it reverted to real space and Tiland stood, making his way into the cockpit.

"What's the situation, Captain?" Tiland's voice was low.

The cameloid captain shrugged, studying the sensors and the view of the asteroid ahead of him. "Looks like a spaced hangar full of unknown ships, a salvage ship registered to a used-ship salesman, and very small life sensors."

Tiland frowned, taking the comm. "Hello, uh, salvage ship? Is that right? I am Jedi Master Tiland Kortun. Do you know what's going on in there? Or any info from that ship you've got?"

At the corners of his mind, he felt the presence of the Dark meditation pressing upon him, but he let it slide through his mind. Others were coming too, he could feel their intent off in the distance, growing stronger. He let his mind relax and the Force radiate out from him, wrapping around himself and Pyeth, to help ward off the strengthening dark he felt from aboard the asteroid.

He preserved his strength, putting out just enough to knock the edge off and keep it manageable.

 

[Muk Moadda]

a salvage ship registered to a used-ship salesman, and very small life sensors."

Tiland frowned, taking the comm. "Hello, uh, salvage ship? Is that right? I am Jedi Master Tiland Kortun. Do you know what's going on in there? Or any info from that ship you've got?"

"Jedi?"

Muk was back in his command chair now. The appropriated shuttle was clamped to his boat's underside, properly disabled, made safe, ready to jump.

"Ho ho ho, Jedi. I'll tell you this much." The Mon Cal ship thief put his feet up on the dash and got the navicomputer chugging away. "It is a ryvving jaggath of a bloodbath down there. Blood all over the insides of the viewports, total massacre. Took this ship out of a hangar full of nasty stuff, I mean dark ships, weird ships. I just finished making'er safe. Know what, call me a humanitarian: I'm not gonna charge you for what I pulled off the navicomputer. Might give you something might not."

He transmitted the files, just the last few jumps from the Ren Knight's boat.

"I'm not hanging around here, Mister Jedi. I'm jumping in a minute and a half."

A little wisp of smoke percolated through the cabin.

"Maybe two."