The Frigid Shadows

[Orion Darkstar]

Winter Flight By: JimHatama​

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Mygeeto.​

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A frigid world on the cusp of the Ascendancy's control. They had done well to attain such a planet with a strong lineage of bankers. It meant their economy would flourish even more with the appropriate strings being pulled. The world was famous for its immigrated Muuns, a race that Orion had come to respect with his accounts. Even more thanks to the studies of Darth Plagueis. For such a frozen tundra, it wasn't as useless and horrific as hoth, but still very cold. Those that trudged through the snow on the ground floor were outfitted to combat the freezing powder. It fell, like delicate feathers swept away by the wind, snow and lots of it. Orion cared little for the weather in its current state, but he rather freeze than burn. With a nice lining of thermo clothing underneath his usual garments, he stood. ​

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The roof of the building allowed him to tower over Jygat, the night life here was just the same as any other. The consistent whispers of the chilling wind made him listen carefully. After all, he was expecting someone, the famed red assassin and better, his master. While Orion had little knowledge of this new undertaking, he knew it involved intense training. There were only so many days left, before Orion would aspire to his goals. He peered down at the city street, the clueless people shuffling as they continued to their clandestine homes. Those that didn't travel for shelter, were here on other business. In any city, there was crime, Jygat, given its smaller size compared to some other worlds was just the same. While the scoundrel's here weren't nearly s bad as the rest, every so often a target worth hunting would come along. ​

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Almost as if he were frozen, Orion continued to stand, his cloak rippling in the wind. He'd been waiting for a while and just before he went to jump below, he felt the assured presence of the one that brought him here. A grin curled onto his lips, his silver mask preventing any prying eyes to see it. His foot stepped forward at the edge of the building as he fell. Orion was a black stream of threads, in an otherwise white painting. He was the real storm, not the snow, or the icy ground, no; pure darkness. he crashed into the snow below. Slush spitting upward at the random people walking along the icy surface of the walkways. As he landed he knelt to catch his fall, the impact cushioned by such action. His head titled upward, startling the two young women nearby as they ran off. ​

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He lightly chuckled and rose. As he stepped onto the walkway he admired the city buildings, each unique in their own way. He was a man of art and while the skyscrapers were well built, they lacked artistic prominence. Shaking his head he felt another gifted individual, the force spoke to him. Reaching out, alarming Orion of its presence. He wasn't here for that, at least as far as he knew. Diligently he walked, a menacing vision in robes and a wicked face. His heart as cold as ice. ​

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[member="Krest"]​

 

[Darth Ferus]

"You know, there are stairs." The familiar voice sounded off behind [member="Orion Darkstar"] , yet with the voice came no marker in the Force. Cloaked and bundled for the cold weather the Zabrak stood with arms crossed, simply staring at Darkstar with ice cold eyes. He would remain still for a moment longer before a deep chuckle erupted and the elder stepped over with cane in hand. "None the less impressive. Many would at least sprain an ankle doing that. You've been keeping up with your training."

Under the guise of a hobbled old man Krest would walk over, still never once radiating the signature that he was known for among so many Sith. "I'm glad you made it."

 

[Orion Darkstar]

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The flakes of snow that graced him slowly fell passed his hood. He wrapped his cloak tightly around him, keeping the cold from finding a way in. Even with the thermo suit beneath, Jygat City was beyond freezing. The sheer glimpse of foot long icicles, that rested upon the ledges of every overhanging roof, proved it. The wind nipped at his face, but with little luck. He had worn it almost constantly, a signature identifier throughout his existence; a mask. With it, the wind faltered. The layer of slick ice underneath his black boots splintered as he walked. Orion was extra careful not to slip, doing so would have been embarrassing. ​

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Then with a quick glance he stopped to turn towards a window. A flashing neon sign with the words, "Lucky Dice." He wasn't entirely sure whether it meant what he thought, but curiosity made him step closer. As he peered in to see what the small building was housed with, he slightly shook. A voice all too familiar coming out of nowhere. It still sent chills up his spine after all this time. The man that teased him was a constant reminder of his inadequacies compared to that of a Sith Lord. One day he would achieve such status, but in all fairness, everything came with time. ​

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"Stairs? Live a little, you taught me that." Orion said, lightly adding a chuckle. ​

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Joking wasn't something he did, at least frequently. Although, this may have been true, [member="Krest"] had made a heavy impression on him from time to time. It brought a new layer to his social interactions over the course of his training. It birthed a interesting layer of fondness between the two, even so; Orion knew his place. He still had to answer to his master, it was the way of the sith. In Krest's eyes, Orion may have been the least of his most accomplished in terms acolytes, but he made up for it with hard work. ​

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"I've been training since I met you. Of course, I appreciate it master." Orion paused, lifting his hand out from his cloak. There was nothing to present, not that he needed to. It was an empty gesture, his arm extending towards the window. He tapped on it and smiled. "I'm glad you invited me."​

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He leaned in closer to the glass trying to find something interesting within. The store seemed unfurnished, almost empty. It had to be the place the thugs had been talking about a while ago, when he entered the city. The slush that began to form around his feet gave way, the ice below finally snapping before water tried to sneak into the top half of his boots. If it was deeper, surely Orion would have been upset. Looking down, then back up he grinned, happy about the result. ​

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No wet socks today. ​

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He turned to his master finally saying what was on his mind. ​

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"So, why are we here?"​

 

[Darth Ferus]

"I'm old boy, far older than I'd like to admit compared to some other more ancient Sith you see wandering around. Unlike them I've never bothered searching on how to sustain my life, and have no desire to do so. Being Sith is as much living and enforcing your rule on the galaxy as knowing when to step down and let another take over." With a wave of his hand the Zabrak would open to door to the seemingly empty shop and step in, his desire to get out of the cold rather apparent. Just as noticed from the outside it was vastly empty, more than most would have expected with the working neon sign hanging just above the door.

"You are rather unknown to the galaxy. Not a bad thing. Have you ever heard of the name Darth Ophidia? Or Darth Lykos? Darth Abyss?" The elder turned then, still leaning rather heavily on his cane as he searched over [member="Orion Darkstar"] 's expressionless mask.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

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"I'm old boy, far older than I'd like to admit compared to some other more ancient Sith you see wandering around. Unlike them I've never bothered searching on how to sustain my life, and have no desire to do so. Being Sith is as much living and enforcing your rule on the galaxy as knowing when to step down and let another take over."​

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Orion, even though he was young; hadn't been called boy in a long time. He considered himself a man, although given the gap between the two, Krest surely highlighted his youth. Perhaps Orion was still a boy, arrogant to the fact that one day he would have to take Krest's place. He would become frail, but powerful and while Orion might be able to find a way to prevent it, there was something sweeter about Krest's outlook. Everyone got tired eventually, it was just a matter of when. As the door was push open the two of them entered into the empty building. The warmth of a heating vent blowing on them as they slipped in, snowflakes chasing to find them, those that did melted in sheer seconds. It was dark, abandonded almost, if not for the several random pieces of dusty furniture spread out along the hardwood floors. ​

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It was strange, but it would do if he wanted to stay warm. ​

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"You are rather unknown to the galaxy. Not a bad thing. Have you ever heard of the name Darth Ophidia? Or Darth Lykos? Darth Abyss?"​

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Orion glanced at him for only a second, before a loud chime came to his ears. A door in the distance opening as people emerged from a darker room. The store front became more shrouded in mystery the longer he continued to stand there. He remembered, one name. ​

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"Darth Lykos, I've taken a lesson from him. With your busy sideways dealings and importance to the Ascendancy, I thought I would learn more about the applications of Force Weapon. I can stop such lessons from others in the future if you wish..." Orion looked to the two people slipping between them and exiting out the front. "Why do you ask, Master?"​

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It stung to call the one before him, his master. Not because he wasn't worthy, but the everlasting hellish pain he had been put through. Almost dying over and over again was tiring. Regardless of Krest's teaching methods, it made Orion stronger and more powerful each day. Even if Orion didn't approve of such things, it was the sith way; he had no right to complain. Still, there was a lingering hate for him, but also an uncanny respect that shined through in the end. It was gratifying to be his pupil, without enduring his teachings, he may have already been killed by the useless oppositions of the Jedi. ​

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Orion lightly smiled, honored to continue his service to the grandiose Red Assassin. ​

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[member="Krest"]​

 

[Darth Ferus]

"They, and myself, lead the Sith Assassins. A group within the shadows that fights for the Sith from that very darkness. We are not government or a powerbase, but the knife that can surgically dismantle and topple empires. The White, Lykos. The Pale, Ophidia. The Black, Abyss. The Red." Blue eyes narrowed in on [member="Orion Darkstar"] as he let out another chuckle. "You, should you succeed and complete your training. Why we are here?"

The small group that had walked into the storefront saw the pair of Sith and immediately raised guns. "To show you what it is to be War." The cane within the elder mans grasp separated and a red humming blade erupted from the hilt. Before even a single shot was able to be fired the Sith Lord was upon the group. The Force rumbled deep as their blasters crushed in on themselves to become totally useless. The Zabrak passed through them like a shade, weaving in and out of their hastily made formation. In a blink of an eye their bodies fell apart, severed in multiple places as limbs and other chunks of flesh thudded against the ground.

The red gaze turned back to his apprentice, a bloodthirsty grin wide on his face. "The rest are upstairs. Slaughter them all."

 

[Orion Darkstar]

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He listened intently, the words that poured from his master's mouth emphasizing the importance of the Sith Assassins. Orion had known for sometime that his own master had his own shady dealings to take care of in the past. Though there were many questions to ask, Orion remained quiet. This group that operated in the darkness meant secrecy, a hidden advantage over the adversaries of the sith. It was truly brilliant. Orion hadn't considered the thought till now. ​

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The Red? Me? Wait..Does he want me to be the Red Assassin!?​

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Orion's eyes flared brightly green, before Krest snapped into action. The cane split from the ground, a crimson shade lighting the area. A few misfit gunners tightly grouped near the door abruptly arriving with guns pointed. A blur of death stretch through the room as Orion watched the display. Like a chef of the dark side, Krest prepared its meal, flaying them like meat. He was an artist of war, an entirely different beast. Amidst the bloodshed, orders were to be followed. ​

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Orion looked upward, his senses picking up footsteps directly over him. A sudden moment of hesitation presented itself. His mind overworking itself, a moment of weakness as he began to question the order given. ​

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Why does he want them dead? Who are they? Are these people working with the Jedi forces? ​

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Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he grinned underneath his mask. A sudden frustration reaching him. He never got the exact details till the very end. He was more a soldier to him, than an apprentice. It was old, but if that's the way it had to be for now, Orion would greet those above with death. ​

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What it means to be War? ​

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He nodded towards Krest and in a blindingly fast motion headed for the steps. reaching the top of them him was greeted with a dim lit doorway. The metal handle curving to reconnect to the bottom half of the door. The odd thing was the loud rumble that came from within. Something was terribly off. As he pulled the door open, a club of flashing lights and thousands of people greeted him. The shift in their movements showed a dance moves. The dance floor centered at the base of the building. A slow sweat reached his skin. He remembered the order, his heart sank in disbelief. ​

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Slaughter them all...​

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[member="Krest"]​

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest stood behind [member="Orion Darkstar"] as he hesitated, his voice being the only thing to give him away. "You have questions, don't you. You don't want to mindlessly kill others without a reason. Even if there is a reason, you want to know it. You don't want to be kept in the dark." A chuckle came from the Sith's lips as he walked up to stand beside his apprentice. Red eyes gazed over the crowd passively, then the elder man pointed directly ahead towards what was clearly the VIP area. "The man there is a trader of secrets. Long ago the Assassins had a home on Coruscant, but it was found by mere thugs trying to take over the undercity. This man had found us and sold out our location. And was payed handsomely if appearances are to believed."

Slowly he would lower his arm, glancing around the room again, this time to the armed guards along the walls. "While the others hide in the shadows to complete the mission it is the job of War to make a scene. To take the attention of anyone and everyone. The face that people know and fear while the unspoken shadows of Conquest, Death, and Famine strike from the shadows. War cuts a bloody path through any opposition to reach their target and kill them to send the message. The Assassins still live, and still hunt."

From his earlier pointing a guard made his way over to the pair, a hand clearly resting on the blaster on his hip. The burly human glanced between the two bundled figures with a frown, and it was clear this man wasn't going to be gentle about his removal of the two Sith. "Let no one stand in your way and remind those here that we do not forgive or forget."

 

[Orion Darkstar]

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There were thousands of questions, but little answers. With everything going on in the background of the Ascendancy and his own master, Orion had yet to find the things he sought, but he was growing. Orion was a tool for the cause, but no more. He felt the dependency of the order dissipate over the course of his training. He grew dependent on himself, garnered goals for the sake of his own interests and soon without warning he would walk his own path. At least that's how he felt. There was no denying his gift in the force. He was strong in such practices, but Krest had made him stronger in the arts of saber combat. This wasn't a bad thing, but gave Orion little time to dabble in alchemy, force lessons, and other things that needed to be taken care of. ​

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Still, he obeyed every order. Even if it brought him farther from his own goals. This no longer would satisfy his hunger for the things he wanted. As he stood at the foot of the entrance he felt the embrace of his master. ​

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"You have questions, don't you. You don't want to mindlessly kill others without a reason. Even if there is a reason, you want to know it. You don't want to be kept in the dark."​

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Orion shifted his glance over his shoulder. "I will not be led into the dark without reason. Other than my own. I'm tired of being some mindless tool for the Ascendancy to utilize on a board of war." Orion paused. "I know you have plans for me, I will respectfully carry them out. I am honored that you even chose me for such an incredible position within another organization. However, I must ask. Why do you want me to become the Red Assassin? Is this not your duty?"​

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Orion shifted his gaze to a guard walking closer to them. It meant trouble. Krest finished his explanation. It was odd receiving such information pertaining to a new organization that he eventually would be part of. Orion was being bred for such things, even at this very moment. He looked to Krest one last time and in seconds became a visceral beast. He glided across the floor, his cloak swaying behind. His speed was enchanted by the will of the force. The guard could barely react, a shimmering red hummed to life. A perfect slice snapping the insignificant speck in half. The top half of his body falling to the ground. Innocents scattered in fright. A smile reached his face, it had been a while since he got the taste of killing. It fed his dark intentions, worse; it started to change him. Almost as if he craved the opportunity to get to the next hunt. ​

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He sighed, as he rose from his crouched position from the maneuver seconds ago. His yellow irises poked through the darkness of the club like daggers. The slits of his mask indenting shadows around them. Just like his master had said. He wouldn't let anyone stand in his way. Orion felt a connection to what the Aspect of War represented, in truth he thought it was a perfect fit. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his saber as the commotion of loud screams tainted the atmosphere.​

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It was music, beautiful horrific music. ​

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[member="Krest"]​

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[Darth Ferus]

A chuckle escaped the elder man's lips. But instead of answering [member="Orion Darkstar"] 's final questions he moved to the shadows. It had been some time since he last blended into the darkness and bits of him could be seen as he shifted through the darkness of the club. No one was looking his way thankfully, instead focusing on the Acolyte that had just begun the slaughter.

Krest simply kept to the exits, making sure that their target would not escape. Unseen hands would keep the doors that the Secret Trader would try to open stuck, and the elder Sith relished in the panic he could feel coming from the man. Orion would have to cut his way to the target, but he would not escape again.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

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The music continued as Orion tore through the dance floor. The scene of horror transfixed on the crowds faces. They were terrified, almost as if they knew they had met their end. Unfortunately, Orion found them useless, not deserving of his blade. He was here for the treachery that one man laid upon the ideals of his chosen life. A life of emotional darkness. The acolyte had learned to use his anger, sadness and regret against his foes. It was a powerful form of expression in his efforts to fully become acquainted with the sith ways. Step by step he strode through them, his blade only reaching guards that tried to prevent him to the V.I.P area. ​

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It wouldn't have mattered if the innocent bystanders were caught in the flaying beast that was now Orion. His crimson saber slashed through the thick of them. Some screaming out in pain, while others tried to run for an exit. An exit that would no longer grant them safe passage. His master made sure of that. As for the traitor, Orion had other plans. Cutting down another assailant he grabbed a tall bottle from the bar and jumped. The balcony above providing a place to land. He knelt, observing the treacherous whelp. Frantically the disgusting vermin popped upward, a sight of pure shock resting upon his selfish face. He was a fool for thinking the Ascendancy wouldn't come for him, worse the Sith Assassins. He was nothing more than another hungry businessman, waiting for the right moment to dismantle another potential client. ​

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Orion grinned in disgust. There was evil among the ranks of thousands of corporations and for a slight moment considered the treachery dealt by such a man to be far worse than what the sith had done. Orion, while knowingly of the activities he was associated with would never consider himself evil. Nor the Ascendancy. in truth the connection to the dark side had saved him. No Jedi, or businessman could understand. Although, Orion knew some within the ranks of the order that still needed guidance, blind to the false ideals of many others in the galaxy. ​

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The once green eyes of Orion's own, shimmered a bright yellow. The red and green fusing perfectly as they shattered the tension between the two. Like a bolt of lightning, Orion dashed forward. Bullets ripping through the air, missing their mark. The bottle he grabbed seconds ago, was clenched harder. A splinter forming around the base of it. He pivoted off his front foot and slid across the floor, tripping one of the bodyguards of the helpless man. The bottle finally shattered, cutting the palm of Orion. Blood, the color of green spewed out from it, but still, Orion held it tightly. The bottle had been formed into a sharp dagger, already barreling towards the traitors throat. The green string of liquid that flowed through with his piercing strike painted a canvas of beauty. A painting beyond the likes of a normal servant, but in truth a irrefutable monster.​

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[Member="Krest"]​

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest was ever vigilant of [member="Orion Darkstar"] while keeping everyone he had to indoors. No one could escape until the traitor was dead, but that didn't seem to be a problem. Darkstar had made a show of it, going so far as to use a bottle to send the message rather than the saber. It was an interesting choice and normally a terrible one. But here when a message needed to be sent why not kill the traitor with something he gained from his treachery?

Though the man did leave himself exposed with such an attack. Already the elder could see the guards below leveling their guns for the Acolyte, guns that would fold upon themselves under the hateful gaze of the Lord. Orion had earned his kill, and no one would interfere. The screaming crowd began to rush out as the doors were let go, freed as something more important took the Zabrak's attention. Not that they mattered anymore. They would spread the rumors needed, and the shadows would once again belong to the Assassins.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

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Before the last shilling of glass touch the ground, the sharp jagged end of the bottle met its mark. The serrated tip of the brandy bottle slipping into the targets throat. Orion's body fully pressing against the chest of the traitor before his arm fully fissured through the core of the man's Adams apple. The sweet iron of red spewed out like a waterfall. The traitor became a human spicket, cleansed of his sins at the hands of a novice aspect. In light of the man's slow and brutal death, the one bodyguard to his right staggered backwards in fright. Heavy and clumsy, he tripped falling over the glass table below. ​

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A light chuckle escaped him as he pushed off the traitors chest and watched him fall. The spraying blood of his victim soaking him as he stared into his eyes. The message had been delivered, at least for now. Orion felt the rush of the kill fuel his intentions even more. He wasn't a monster, he was an absolver of sins. he felt the connection between himself and the force embrace him, like a blanket in a winter's night. This was it, the missing piece of the puzzle for him, the antiquated thirst to kill. The dark side had shyed itself from him for so long, that now in this very moment; he was finally breaching the innermost comfort of the power at his control. ​

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With a deep sigh, he lavished in the blood. A tiny spurt of blood finally ended, a pool of blood seeping through the cleaves of his boots. Lifting his boot he shook off the red liquid with ease an made his way for Krest. As the last bit of people ran out in a flurry of panic, he raised his voice; but not before ripping the bottle form the targets throat and examined it. ​

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"So... did I pass?" Orion asked, spinning the broken and bloodied bottle. "I thought the bottle was a fascinatingly ironic way to end him, no?" With a quick stroke through the air with his saber it deactivated. The once resounding hum no longer present. Slowly, Orion continued forward, hoping he had done the job well. ​

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[member="Krest"]​

 

[Darth Ferus]

"You could call it passing." Was Krest teasing [member="Orion Darkstar"] ? Probably, but his expression gave no hint of humor. Instead he motioned to the guards who's guns were destroyed and were currently running with the rest of the crowd now that they lost the man who would write their checks. "You should pay more attention to your surroundings. While ironic, you left yourself open. Theatrics are fine, so long as you don't get killed in the process."

The sound of sirens outside cause the elder to turn his gaze to the doorways, a frown on his lips. "Time to go. Out the way we came in. If there are any enforcers there kill them and get to my ship. The Phasma will get us out undetected." He would already be moving to the door as he spoke, holding the metal cylinder of his own saber in his hand.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

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"You should pay more attention to your surroundings. While ironic, you left yourself open. Theatrics are fine, so long as you don't get killed in the process." ​

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The words of his master seemed to carry wait as Orion's lush green eyes shifted to the exit. Two men sullied in blood running for their lives. Krest must have done a number on them while he was busy gutting the traitor. If this was what it meant to be the aspect of war, Orion didn't mind. He would carry out such a role with ease, but not because he would be ordered to; but because he would be honored to. He flicked his cloak back to the front half of his body, the wrinkles waving through the dark air. ​

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"You worry too much. I've found that testing my limits during the real scenarios has caused me to adapt faster. Preventing any danger from attacking me, only makes me weaker. Next time, I'll be more careful...regardless." Orion lifted his hand and extended it toward the door. A gesture to allow his master to go forth before him. A sudden tumultuous sound began to grow louder with each second they stood. ​

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Sirens.​

Reinforcements would mean even more trouble. If the mission relied on them to get in and out. They would have to work fast. He knew his master was correct about the new guards below, they would have to kill them or at least dismantle them to get by. If the events here went public, it could sabotage everything the SA worked so hard to hide for years. It didn't strike Orion till now that the man he had killed must have had tight connections with the city enforcement in Jygat city. Even with the planet almost in the grasp of their own, there were still minor powers at play, one already dead by the hands of Orion. He grinned under his eerie mask. The feeling of accomplishment welling inside him. Only this accomplishment meant nothing if not successful. He looked to Krest and with a nod he made for the stairs. ​

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It was going to be one hell of a bloodbath.​

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[member="Krest"]​

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