Private The Resting Place

[Syd Celsius]

Twelve days before The Execution of Darth Phyre.

The Man in White stared upon the field of corpses littering the plains of Tython. Men, Women, old...young. It was under the moons, those ancient moons their forbears had exiled people to. The air was thick with blood. Its spiritual location thick also with suffering.

It was heartbreaking the ways the magic rituals had defiled their bodies. Some of their organs were still ambulatory, shifting and wriggling around in the grass, next to idols depicting a naked, emaciated purple, togrutan woman with no face. The Cult's calling card.

The Man in White's long, sterile white robes trailed behind him, the mask concealing his face entirely bearing the symbol of a purple pentagram with the ancient symbol of The Ashla at the center, flanked by his subordinates, all of whom were dressed like he, but their robes were a forest green.

"Yet another act of defilement from the white-chromed beast..." one of his subordinates spoke as they beheld the carnage. "Is her bloodlust never sated?"

"No." The Man in White answered flatly. She had left all this here, not specifically for him to find. Anyone available for coming across this horror would do.

"Why have we been brought here? Is it merely to grow sick at this outrage?" another asked.

"Because..." The Man in White trailed in a deep baritone as he drew close to an ancient marker of stone.

"It was the only place he would agree to meet us..."

He and the dozen others he had brought waited for five minutes.

"What's taking so long?" One asked, shuddering at the cold of the night, averting his gaze from the bodies.

"Shhh..." The Man in White whispered. "Here he comes..."

A tall, well built man with long dark brown hair in a ponytail strode across wild, bloodied grass in the night fog. He was clad in scratched, dull gray armor, a lightsaber dangling from his belt. Both his eyes were gone, ritualistically dug out by his master. He saw only with the aid of the Force.

"Your masters blood lust is impressive, in its own twisted way..." The Man said to Phyre's apprentice.

One of his subordinates tried to protest. "His master instigated everything we are seeing here!"

"We have no choice!" The Man in White replied angrily. "As hard as we have fought we have not truly succeeded in striking a major blow against The Cult of The Brain Demon! The head of the snake has to be cut off. It might grow a new one but while its slithering around headless will be our best opening to really do some damage to these psychopaths but it doesn't happen unless we make a deal..."

"What kind of deal?" One of his men asked.

"Whatever he wants..." The Man in White answered.

"Whatever he wants..."

The apprentice smirked. "Sounds like there's a little dissent in the ranks there..."

"Nothing serious..." The Man in White assured the traitor. "You know what I've come for...the blade. The Holy Moonglare Saber. You have it?"

"I have the key to where it is being kept..." the apprentice spoke, holding out a little silver key with wings. "Its hidden on Naboo. The pale chromed fiend has been searching for it for months...But I know where it is. I have always known, for my Jedi Master before I was Sith entrusted me with the secret. A little known fact Phyre never caught on to. No real idea what to do with the knowledge, until you came along."

"Why should we trust any word of the apprentice of one of the most sadistic Sith we've ever encountered?" One of the green robed Jedi demanded.

The apprentice angrily pointed to his face. "That should be answer enough, Jedi Scum."

"So we help you overthrow your master. Only to what, deal with you?" That same Jedi asked

"No..." the Sith said. "I'm done with the cult. I deal with depravity every day as a Sith. But the things that creature only resembling a woman has made me do...its sobering."

"Well, whaddya know, a Sith who had his fill of cruelty. Shocking. Positively shocking..." The Man in White uttered with acidic sarcasm. (A kiss of death: 60 XP)

"Well what do you get out of it?" The Man's subordinate pressed.

"Freedom...from her. That's all I want at this point. I'll pay any price."

"You're going to give me a lot more than just a Key, boy." The Man in White warned the apprentice.

The Sith only nodded, handing him a datapad.

"This is her schedule. If you can't do anything with this you are a fool that I've suicidally bet all my credits on."

"Patience, patience, Sithling, she will die..." The Man in White assured him off handedly in a bored manner dismissively waving his hand at him.

"Fighting Darth Phyre is not the hard part. The hard part was finding her base of operations."

"She's killed every Jedi that has gone after her." The apprentice warned.

"Stragglers. Amatuers out of their league and too hot headed to be useful. A straggler Jedi is easy to kill. Clone Wars proved that." The Man in White snorted. "Besides, at the end of the day, for all her power, your master is just another Sithspawn, albeit an extraordinarily deadly one."

"As I have grown to realize..." The Apprentice trailed before handing him both the key and a datapad. The Man in White handed him a small envelope in exchange.

"That contains triple the payment we promised, as well as a cover identity in case we fail and you have to go into hiding." The Man in White explained to the apprentice.

"You must truly loath my master to agree to my demands so easily..." The Apprentice mused, taking the envelope, his stance going more relaxed.

"It is not a matter of emotion, but necessity. Your master is one of the most depraved individuals in the galaxy. If left unchecked her and her cult will plunge the galaxy into even more chaos then its already in. Stopping her is in everyone's best interest, including your own, Sith."

The Apprentice sighed. "On that, at least, we are agreed."

The Apprentice turned and left.

(Zelda acquisition theme plays)

(The Man in White got The Little Silver Key!)

"Prepare a course for Naboo..." The Man in White ordered.

"You really think this blade will help? We don't even know who made it..." one of the green robes pointed out.

"I've been given valuable intelligence from a trusted source." The Man in White assured the naysayer.

"You place too much faith in the De Lifte Family." The Naysayer replied.

"Their prophecies have never let us down before. If they say the weapon is legitimate it is legitimate." The Man in White assured.

"Moya De Lifte is no longer around to make me confident in that assertion..." the naysayer replied, following their leader away from the bloody carnage




Nearly four hundred years later...

Silver Rest

Kashyyyk


Wearing: 451 Suit

Armed with: Wind and Fire Wheels (Twin blue bladed lightsabers.)

Syd Celsius, creation of The Man in White, sparred against one of The Training droids armed her lightsabers. The droid, slim and skeletal but sturdy, wielded a yellow blade. Syd opened in her preferred Form 2 and The Droid opened in Djem So. They circled each other.

The droid attacked first and Syd twisted out of the way, deflecting its heavy powerstrikes rather then meet them head on. Its attacks grew more cautious, keeping its blade close to its chest, going for small flicks and swipes that Syd had more trouble predicting, It went for thrusts more often, and Syd often ended up having to roll or dodge those at some points.

"Ashla, give me the strength of The Rancor..." she said, focusing.

The psychic shell that contained the living fire within rippled, traveling to her arms. When the next blow came, she made an X. With her new enchanted strength she heaved the droid's blade aside, launching a counter attack of blade flurries, carefully aimed, all strikes meant to be killing strikes. The droid parried with heavy swings but Syd matched it, adding stabs and slices to her attack pattern. The droid''s defense became more and more difficult to maintain until it finally slipped up, and Syd scored a blow that decapitated the droid. It clattered to a heap. Syd sighed, shut the saber off. Droids. They were never a challenge to her. She always figured out their pattern. Always.

Syd picked up the droid, placed it in the scrap pile. Fifth one today.

She was trying to deal with a stress even her limited emotions were not sure how to deal with.

She was soon to be dispatched on a mission to Naboo, accompanied by a Jedi. She had no idea who they had selected to accompany her.

A survey team prospecting for ore had uncovered the remains of an ancient and powerful blade. One she was all too familiar with.

No one was sure where The Moonglare Greatsaber had come from. Earliest mention of it wss during the last years of the Gulag Plague where it was used by a Jedi to slay a terrible abomination created by fusing the minds and spiritual energy and knowledge of dozens of Sith. It had been lost in the years since.

They had asked her to recover. She had thought to decline but had accepted the assignment in the end. And so she had spent the hour whittling away at combat droids, waiting for whoever they had picked to go with her on her Star Courier so she could brief them.

Syd went over to the briefing file opening the folder. The photo of the research team holding the ancient, long handled lightsaber, its hilt the length of most modern double bladed lightsabers was being held prominently by the Survey team in the photo. It looked ancient, its metal pitted and scratched. Her creators had owned it. It had adorned the Man in White's personal quarters though she had never seen him use it.

And now it was on Naboo, not some lost vault of the Resistors. Syd knew it would not be simple, because no messages had come from the dig site since then.

Syd, desperate to calm herself down, took out tools and began working on the droid she had just broken...

[member="Loreena Arenais"]

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori hadn't been to Kashyyk in what felt like forever. But really it had been perhaps a few years. But so much had happened in that span of time. Her Mom lost another world, then herself. Now she sells tea, or so she had been told. HerDad spent all of his time with the Silvers, perhaps to keep his mind off of the fact that he was recently divorced. Either way, it wasn't a happy time for House Arenais.

Once upon a time Lori was a Padawan to her Dad, if only so that she could try to get close to him and to keep him from going Dark again. But all of the rules and restrictions at the Academy that kept her from even seeing him whenever she wanted or needed to, well it proved to be too much for her, so she left to pursue her own life. It was better thus way.

But family was important and so she took it upon herself to go see her Dad, only to find out that he wasn't even there! But he did leave her a note, which asked her to go to escort [member="Syd Celsius"] to Naboo for.... Well, Lori didn't even read all of the note for she was already running towards the Silver Rest to find her.

Of course FINDING her wasn't going to be easy. Lori wasn't aware of what Syd looked like or anything and the Silver Rest was huge! So instead of hunting for a needle in a haystack, Lori hunted down an intercom station and sent out a message:

~Hello, this is Lori. I'm looking for Syd Celsius. If said person can meet me at the main entrance in ten minutes, that'd be wicked. Thanks!~

Now all that she needed to do was to get back there and wait.

 

[Syd Celsius]

Wearing: 451 Suit (https://starwarsrp.net/topic/136742-451-suit/)


Syd heard the intercom message by the time she was working on her third droid. It was from someone named Lori. Kinda young sounding.

Syd immediately gathered her things and headed to the front desk, her skin tight red and gold suit reflecting everything around her. She had never appreciated how massive the Rest was. But it was much larger than Resistor headquarters, certainly. She floated all the way to the front entrance, spotting [member="Loreena Arenais"] at last. Young woman. Athletic looking. Real contest winner type. She sensed the lingering mark of a Master linked to her.

Syd set her feet on the ground, her beauty an eerie contrast to Loreena's. Loreena's beauty was a human beauty. Syd's beauty was like that of a poisonous flower: Its beauty was precisely what gave away how deadly it was, even as it could seduce and draw you in. Despite not being repulsive in the traditional sense, it still screamed unnatural.

"Hello Lori. You must be the one who was asked to go with me. The name's Celsius. Syd Celsius." Syd said in a slightly formal tone.

(Clip of Bond Theme plays)

Socializing easily was simply not something she had been created to do. She had been working at it but it was not easy in the slightest. Sometimes she was greatful for that. Other times she desperately clawed at the emotional restraints she had been made with...seventy five percent weaker than that of an organic. Most times. Affecting and simulating ease was the best she could often do. She had barely started to grasp what a friendship was, and that was only because Wu was helping her.

"We're heading to Naboo. An ancient lightsaber of great power has been uncovered at a dig site...but no one has reported back yet. We'll be heading there in my Star Courier, so if there are any essential supplies you need, now's the time. So...how did you hear about this assignment? Do you know anything about the mission at all?"

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori watched as [member="Syd Celsius"] floated towards her. It was hard not to notice her, given that her clothing and everything about her just screamed to be noticed.

"Hi. Nice to meet you." She gave a small smile as introductions were made. Lori found Syd to be very pretty, and in some way that she couldn't describe. Maybe it was the make up? And the flashy clothes? Who knows?

Her attention was torn away from her thoughts as Syd filled her in on what this whole mission was about. "A lightsaber on Naboo? And no one reported back? Do you think something happened to them?" Immediately she regretted asking that question. Of COURSE they figured something happened. Why else would it be looked into?

And then she heard that they were taking some other ship instead of the Jaster's Sparrow. "I've just gotta get my pack, then I'm good to go. My Dad let me know about it through a message, but I didn't read it all." Mostly because she dropped the note in her excitement and didn't bother to pick it up. "I figure that we can talk details on the way to Naboo. How did you hear about it?"

 

[Syd Celsius]

"Oh, I know something happened to them." Syd replied, an orange light in the back of her throat showing faintly as she spoke, walking up and showing the folder displaying the photo of the saber in question..

"There's plenty of reasons to want this blade." She added, heading out the front to her craft.

"As to your other question, I know of it from...prior exposure." Syd explained. "The Jedi sect I was once part of possessed this blade. After I was...out of commission...it must have fallen out of their hands. How it ended up on Naboo is unknown to me."

Syd led [member="Loreena Arenais"] to the nearby landing pad where the Scorched Earth awaited.

Syd knew she was almost four hundred years in the future . Knew by now many vessels likely surpassed her heavily modified grey and white Sienar Systems Star Courier.

But if anything could elicit attachment in The Ghost of Flames, if anything at all could elicit a concept resembling pride, then the Scorched Earth was it. She was pleased to find that it was still a formidable vessel (Though the Tie Silencer made her nervous. It struggled against one in a dog fight, fought for its life against two and against three it was suicide. Four meant automatic fleeing.), though she knew its limits were catching up to the tech of the age. She knew she would need another one soon. It could get her too and from undetected but its strength was ultimately ambushes or support.

It had not been built for human habitation but Syd had created space for guests to rest in. It wasn't much...it was supposed to double as a prison cell but Syd had dressed it up enough so it was merely barebones rather than a sign they were not in for a pleasant time.

"I apologize if the accommodations are sparse. I am...unused to guests." She said, the name of the ship written in flame like basic.

Syd opened the hatch, the electronics aboard primitive, almost analog like controls wwith CRT like screens and red running lights. It was dungeon like.

She turned to Loreena.

Its name is The Moonglare Greatsaber. Aqua green blade, even to its core. It sparkles along the edge. Its used to kill abominations. Go. Get your pack. I'll wait."

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Whoa. So it wasn't so much of a rescue as it was....something else. A recovery effort, among retrieving the lightsaber.

Lori walked along with [member="Syd Celsius"], looking to the picture of the lightsaber that was provided. It was pretty in it's own way, though it looked like an antique. Still, there was no doubt of it's importance.

She smiled as she looked upon Syd's ship. Like Lori's own, the style was old. But that didn't mean that it couldn't fly well. "Oh don't worry about me, I can sleep just about anywhere. You have a wicked ship, by the way. She must be fun to fly." But there was more time to talk about that later. Lori hurried off to Jaster's Sparrow to grab her pack. Within minutes she was already running back towards Syd's ship and jogging up the ramp. Her eyes scanned the interior and she whistled. "This'll do nicely. So what do you think happened? I thought Naboo was generally safe?"

 

[Syd Celsius]

"She 'is' kinda fun to fly..." Syd agreed with [member="Loreena Arenais"] though this waa only agreement on the most bare bones of levels due to her reduced emotions. She waited, watching the girl run off. Even down to the way she ran and walked, Syd was too precise. Loreena's uneven sprint was something a part of her was still trying to grasp how to replicate without looking like a moron in the process.

Eventually, however she came back with her stuff and was aboard the ship, asking what Syd believed to have occurred.

"I'm suspecting an incursion, to be honest. Maybe Naboo is safe but an individual Dark Adept, if they want something badly enough will go to extraordinary lengths to obtain it. They wouldn't care if Naboo is safe or not." Syd answered as she led Loreena to her quarters, past Syd's, the door open and the cases displaying her various chrome armors on full display, her own body awash in the reflections of her surroundings.

"But the Moonglare Greatsaber was no ordinary credit store Force Relic. This is the real deal. I don't know where it came from. I don't know who made it. Nobody heard of the blade before the Gulag Plague. Not one soul. Maybe it went under another name, maybe the crystal got transplanted but...one day...it simply existed..."

Syd headed to the cockpit, and the primitive looking systems hummed as a security message displayed.

INITIATE VOCAL AUTHENTICATION

Syd leaned forward. "I'll be back." She said with authority to the computer.

"Authentication confirmed. Welcome, Geist."

The Ship lifted off and Syd waa heading towards the atmosphere.

"Truth is, with a Relic that powerful its usually heavily defended. It certainly was when my own masters once possessed it. I never actually saw it used but I knew it creates some kind of aura that protects the user...creates light of some kind..."

Syd had soon engaged the hyperdrive, setting it to autopilot.


Meanwhile...

The man in the black cloak stared at the Greatsaber, sealed behind its ancient enchanted cage in an old grass field of Naboo by the last of the scientists before he had dispatched them, surrounded by ancient statues of Jedi. The researchers lay slain all around the site, ritually so, in order to try and use their suffering and The Darkness to try and breach the protective wards guarding his prize. But the Resistors of Darkness did not do cheap work. These were high quality protective enchantments guarding it. He wondered how the researchers had retrieved it when he could not. His chrome tiger mask gleamed as he stared at the saber, taunting him.

But he had waited. For a long time to get this blade...

He could wait a little more.

The Tiger Mask Sith knealt in meditation, drawing on the darkness...

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori followed [member="Syd Celsius"] inside, glancing through the opened doorway of her room as she walked by. Wow that was a bunch if armour. They looked pretty wicked. Lori didn't have any of her own yet, but some day she would. When she had the time. But it wasn't as though she'd be wearing it while she was in Jedi territory.

"A dark adept? Like a Sith?" Lori hadn't run into followers of the Darkside much. She ran from them when they conquered Commenor, and fought them in space, shooting down their fighters while he crew flew her ship past them.

At least she wouldn't be alone on this journey.

"Relics are always hunted down; especially if they are holocrons or lightsabers. But I hadn't heard of this one. How well known is it?" Maybe if Lori would've stayed to learn at the Academy, she'd know. But she didn't.

 

[Syd Celsius]

"Not especially well known..." Syd answered, turning from the controls to face [member="Loreena Arenais"]

"First recorded mention of it is around the last years of the Gulag Virus. It had apparently been a well kept secret beforehand...the one it was first used on was taken completely by surprise...an abomination that was the product of Sith Alchemy and the fusion of the minds of dozens of powerful Sith. This Abomination rampaged throughout nearly the entirety of the crisis. Men, women, children in an already bad situation with a galaxy wide plague, were brutally tortured and sacrificed to the abomination's God, an evil spirit known as The Brain Demon. They drew their power from moon based magic. Some think the weapon might have even been crafted specifically to fight them...

That was about what Syd knew of the blade on an academic level. On other levels...

Syd decided to make idol conversation. She had been practicing in front of a mirror, so she figured she might get away with a little of it.

"So Loreena...how long do you think it'll be before you're ready for your trials to become a knight?" Syd asked. Syd herself had not become a knight the normal way...it had been a field promotion for killing her first Sith nearly minutes after she was...created...

Syd wondered if the Resistors, if The Man in White had ever seen her as anything other than something to be used and discarded. Given the results, she was tempted to say no, but given what little that thief who had accidentally freed her on Kashyyyk told her, they had not put her away until actual, legit Jedi mainstreamers had come and told them to stop using her. Syd had always figured it had been a fear reaction but given how abruptly she had been imprisoned in the nullification resin...had the mainstream Jedi found out the secret behind her creation also? Was that what had truly triggered the fear reaction?

"I was a Knight when I retired the first time..." Syd spoke idly, Loreena reflected on the surface of a red and gold covered chrome body. "Hovered at that position for some years now. Probably have done enough to be considered a master, but I fear being relegated to a desk or something if I ever got the title. I was never really good for anything but field work. Certainly not the more nuanced applications within The Silver Jedi..."

Syd did not see herself as a diplomat, despite trying to be more than a killing machine. She had an artist's touch at killing people, but a tin ear for negotiations...unless they were the aggressive kind...

"I hope you don't mind my saying, but I get the impression you have not done too many assignments like this..." Syd trailed...


Meanwhile...


The Tiger Mask Sith Lord had knealt in front of the chamber containing his prize for about an hour when one of his conspirators walked up behind him.

She was curvy and beautiful, clad in a skintight, mostly flesh colored combat body glove with white gloves and boots, her hair shaped into a short bob with dead purple eyes, carrying a purple saberstaff.

"A watched pot never boils, y'know..." The Amalgam commented idly, yawning in the early morning hours. Her flesh wriggled, and pulled and stretched across her face the closer she got to the Greatsaber however, forcing her to take a few steps back to avoid further damage.

The Tiger Mask Sith said nothing.

"Ugh. Never could stand the stoic kinds of Sith. Completely missing the point of being a Sith if you ask me..." The Amalgam huffed in annoyance. The man was lucky she didn't think the knowledge in his skull was worth tearing out...yet...

The Shi'ido surveyed the enclosure in which the saber lay. She could feel its protective wards weakening. But not quickly enough. The Geist would be here before the enchantments were down. Meaning they would need to delay it until the thing could be removed.

She herself dared not get closer. The Light Side Nexus within would badly weaken her body without proper preperation beforehand, and that required rituals. Corrupting the Greatsaber itself, so it could never be used on the servants of The Unholy Spirit again would be a remarkably simple matter for her after, provided she focused her corruption to the maximum.

"Just because that thing has been leashed doesn't mean you should get careless. One slip up and she is more than capable of killing you."

This finally prompted a response from the Tiger Mask Sith.

"I have defeated her before." He said in metallic growl, but otherwise remained unmoving.

"That was when you were still pure enough to wield the prize that is currently just out of your reach." The Amalgam hissed. "Don't allow your anger at The Resistors to cloud your judgement. You are at a disadvantage."

"I wouldn't be if you were planning to stay."

The less the SJO is aware of the incursions I have been making into their space the better." The Amalgam explained patiently to the brute of a man. Besides, if you can't do it without the lightsaber...then you don't deserve it." (Homecoming: 80 XP)

The Tiger Mask Sith suppressed a grumble. "Its funny." He mused after a moment, still staring at the Greatsaber in its prison. "If I had never needed to use the fething thing in the first place, she might have simply been killed with the far more obvious solution of just firing 'all' of the blasters at her. I advocated that, y'know. The obvious choice. How was I supposed to predict she'd be repurposed!?"

"It's not me you should be raging at, Sith." The Amalgam sneered. "The Unholy Spirit is not your enemy in this instance, despite your high crimes against it."

The Tiger Mask Sith snorted.

"I never cared about your perverted God. My only quarrel was with that thing that killed my brother on Korriban."

"The irony of this is delicious, you must admit." The Amalgam said, stepping back a little more as her flesh shuddered being so close to the pure object. The Sith suppressed his disgust at her...he had met some horrible Nightsisters whose bodies were altered by the Dark Side, but The Amalgam seemed to be in a league all her own. Flesh shouldn't wriggle on the bone just being near a pure object. That normally occured only with the most utterly foul and perverted of SithSpawn...

Just like Darth Phyre, in other words.

There was a sort of terrible irony in all this, working with someone little different from the thing that murdered his brother.

Phyre had been a truly vile beast to inspire such hatred. Though long since embracing the Dark Side himself (An irony Phyre might have found quite delicious ), his grudge against his brother's murderer had never lessened. He had been infuriated when he had learned what the Resistors had done. The Man in White had been a lying bastard. He supposed he should have seen it coming, in retrospect. The Man in White had been among the cagiest Masters of the specialist Jedi Sects in operation during the Plague. Like a fool, he had believed The Man in White had wanted only to execute Phyre...a meaningless victory at that point, given the lives Phyre had destroyed, and the number of them.

But he had had tunnel vision working for such a man. Hadn't seen all the angles. He knew better these days.

The Amalgam only smiled in amusement as he said nothing in response. She was gonna enjoy learning the results no matter how it went. Either way, the fool didn't know the Greatsaber would be hers, not his...

The Amalgam hid her extremely corrupt and powerful presence in The Force, and engaged the cloaking device on her suit, vanishing as she walked away, brushing past squads of mercenaries getting into position...

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori listened to the facts that [member="Syd Celsius"] was giving her about the blade. All that stuff about Brain Drmons and the like, she hadn't a clue. Though she did remember reading about the Gulag virus in school. That was a horrible plague to go through and she was glad to have not been alive for it.

She scratched at an imaginary itch on the back of her neck as Syd asked her about when she'd be taking the trials. "Umm...well.." Her words hung in the air as she sought after the best way to respond. "I don't think that I'll ever have them. I'm not training at the Academy or anything." Lori was there for a short time, only she couldn't handle all the rules and restrictions. Nor did she like the fact that she'd have to ask for PERMISSION to see her own Dad. It was absurd!

"I've gone searching for treasures and such before, sone artifacts too. But this'll be my first time looking for a lightsaber." Lori had one of her own that she had made, yet more often that not, it remained locked away in her quarters. She didn't need to carry it with her all the time. A blaster tended to be good enough.

 

[Syd Celsius]

"Ohhh...I see." Syd replied sympathetically to Loreena Arenais-Valhoun . "

"Its a demanding life, being a Jedi..." Syd conceeded. "I confess...some days I only persist because its what I was...made for...at least you are helping however you can...but where this blade is concerned, danger is likely to be a major factor. You don't dig up a relic like this without expecting consequences..."

Meanwhile...

The Tiger Mask Sith Lord meditated, preparing himself for the confrontation ahead.

They had lost a hundred to Darth Phyre. They had to end up striking early...intel had come that Phyre was planning to depart the Forest world she was hidden on. They would never have another chance to strike like this.

He had to modify his style to wield the blade properly...

Unfinished Tomb Complex, tail end of Gulag Era.

Death waxed over in the Force. In this place. This vile place.

Twenty six of The Brain Demon witched dead at the front entrance, ten resistors. Her traitor apprentice's information had been good. Darth Phyre would be here with the least amount of security she had ever been with. Strong witches all of them...but susceptible to being overwhelmed.

In other words: Spam attack.

Spam ALL the attacks.

Dyre Uthin, Guardian of the Whills, clutched his prayer beads, large spheres of Pure Beskar on a string of alchemized phrik. He was clad in simple, dark green robes of wool, a phrik alloy folding fan in a tattered belt. In his other hand was the greatsaber itself. It pulsed with the light and so did he.

He was Corellian, The fan had belonged to his brother, who Phyre had murdered. The Atrisian Menpo mask he wore, silvery in color and stylized to resemble the lower half of a tiger face, had come from his wife, who Phyre had also murdered.

His brother had been murdered on korriban, his flesh fed to mutated shyrack along with his wife and children. His wife had been murdered when Phyre had used a simple iron club to hit her. Over eight hundred times.

He had a lot of legit reasons to be pissed at her.

The upper half of Dyre's face was exposed, revealing slightly pale skin and reddish brown hair with blue eyes which darted around hesitantly as he journeyed through the unfinished tomb of the Beast. Apparently work had stalled...parts were still unfinished. But he could see pearl white stone surfaces in many places.

He heard the screams of dozens of witches as the Resistors of Darkness butchered them, most however, the very strongest were sent to try and soften up Darth Phyre. He could feel them dying painfully, one by one as he repeated the mantra of the Guardians.

"I am with the Force, and The Force is with Me. I am with The Force, and The Force is with me..."

He flinched a little as he approached what was supposed to be her final resting place. The sarcophagus was nearly complete. All seventy five Resistors lay dead, burned alive. He was thankful he could not smell them through the mask.

Darth Phyre sat on top of her own sarcophagus, legs crossed, smiling.

She was immaculate, clad in a sking tight white and gold chrome suit, her hair long, dark blood red layers of curls, features exotic. But the rotting yellow eyes let one know nothing human was beneath. In her hands were a curved hilt lightsaber, a solid white and gold weapon.

"And here I was, thinking I would have to wait another few minutes before cooking live flesh again..." she sneered at him before looking him up and down and laughing.

"A Guardian?" She questioned, incredulous. She burst out into laughter again. "They send a mere Whill Guardian to slay Darth Phyre? I don't know whether to be amused or insulted. Oh...I know. I'll be both."

The Force warned him before the burst of flame erupted out of her mouth. He dodged the lethal, flesh charring blast, a sonic wrist blaster showing through his wool sleeve for a moment as it fired, smacking her right in the face and rupturing a cheek, leaking white blood as she was flung over the sarcophagus, hitting a wall.

He was up running, repeating his mantra in his head, the hand holding the nigh indestructible prayer beads swinging for her jaw.

Phyre screamed as blessed metal slammed into her face. The SithSpawn's skin violently ruptured. She Force pushed him away. Dyre landed, just in time to conjure a protective aura against another, deadlier blast of flame. Her purple blade was on him, and he swatted it aside as the strikes came relentlessly from the white chromed beast with his prayer beads. He had not yet ignited the saber. His mantra repeated endlessly in his head as he defended himself with the beads. These had been a gift from his son, who Phyre had also murdered.

She didn't even know who he was. Didn't even know or care about the damage she had done to him. He had no intention of stopping to tell her.

"You think a mere Guardian can challenge the power of the Darkness?! You're barely lackey material! I've slain common thugs who rated remembrance more than you will." She snarled savagely, swiping for his head, her face damaged and disfigured by the blessed beads. To her frustration, none of her carefully planned Makashi assaults found a way past the hand holding that necklace, but his foot found a way into her face, an epic spin kick (it looked VERY epic) slammed her head into a wall making her bleed a little more.

Dyre backed away, trying to guage how much damage he had done. To his disquiet, the evil of this place was already soaking into her flesh, reversing the damage to her head slowly. She smirked at him, her broken jaw resetting itself.

Hmmm...a more than cursory effort..." she remarked. "Perhaps I dismissed you too quickly, young monk...it takes great skill to survive me as long as you have. What motivates a Whill Guardian to get 'this' good?"

Dyre kept a tight control over his emotions, refusing to give her any ammo.

"It would take too long to explain..." he said simply, sprinting for her...



Present day...

The Tiger Masked Sith glanced up at the sky as he felt her. It was evening. That Force Vision had come from nowhere...

She was here. Would be here soon.

The Sith threw off his black cloak, revealing simple robes of black wool and black leather boots. He took out his brother's Phrik alloy fan, long cursed by Dark Rites, and flicked it open, revealing claw like blades at the end. His prayer beads, large and heavy, and long since also cursed, lay secured in a strategic manner around his arm. He drew his only other weapon, a small black shoto with a dark red blade which sprouted to half the length and thinness of a normal lightsaber blade.

"I won't make the same mistake I did last time..." he swore to the sky.

He tapped his comlink. "She's here. Prepare the ambush..."

Ten minutes later...

The Scorched Earth set down on a plain of grass in the Naboo wildlands.

Syd had exited the craft first, floating through the air in a ghostly manner, both blades clipped to her belt as she felt the moisture in the night air, occasionally creating uncomfortable wisps of steam on her psyonic shell's face, making it ripple as little wisps of moisture continued to come into contact with the surface.

"It's too quiet. Hear that? No animals..." she said to Loreena, activating both of her blue blades, floating ahead. The whole surface of her body rippled as the shell reacted to the presence of the Dark Side as she went ahead, some parts of her figure swelling and shifting under the suit before resetting and starting the same process over again. After a moment, Syd simply chanted a spell to shield her from the dark energy tainting the air after she realized Loreena was still with her, and she had probably seen Syd's momentary disfigured state.

"Ashla, shield me from wickedness." Syd said specifically to conjure the effect, a strange purple fire enveloping her body.

"So, Loreena...do you know anything about magic? That was a Light sided spell I just used, if your curious. Its capable of protecting one temporarily from Dark energies. Might come in handy if you have the focus for it..." Syd suggested, part of her genuinely engaging in conversation, the other trying to feel for specific threats...

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori nodded. The Jedi life just wasn't for her. She was too wreckless and spontaneous for it. And as her Dad had pointed out, she was too used to having her way all the time.

"Danger? I laugh in the face of danger! Ha ha ha ha!" She snickered as she made light of the task that herself and Syd Celsius was on. That was just Lori's way of doing things though. That was the way that she handled life.

After they had disembarked the ship, her stomache seemed to sink. Was it the lightsaber that they were searching for that was causing this? Surely it wasn't nerves. Lori didn't think she was nervous at all.

But then Syd started to....change. Lori rubbed her eyes to be sure that it wasn't just all in her head, only to see her body seem to...ripple under her tight clothing. Just what exactly was she? Like Arla maybe? Though she had never seen her co-pilot do that before. It caused her pace to slow down.

Then came the magic; the purple flame encompassing Syd as though she was just a hologram. It was one of the strangest things that she had ever seen.

"Lightsided...spell? I didn't know that such a thing existed..." Her hand went to her blaster, gripping the handle but not yet taking it out of it's holster. What danger lay ahead of them? A Sith more than likely. It was probably why she felt a bit sick. "I guess someone beat us to it."

 

[Syd Celsius]

"The Light Side is path to many abilities some consider to be as unnatural as those in the Dark..." Syd trailed. "I will concede however, that Magic can be difficult to understand."

As she floated through the air, the purple flame encompassing her, she sensed them moving through the forest in the plains beyond. The darkness flowed strongly from it.

"I am...composed mainly of magical energies, so to me of course, such magics feel natural. But nearly anyone can learn it if they have the Force. Here, let me show you one...this one is an offensive spell..."

Syd held out her hand and chanted...

"Ashla, summon a dagger of flames..."

A fire construct of a dagger appeared in her hand. She spun it around for a few moments before disappating it.

"It simply requires enough focus. Enough will." She explained, adding with a small smile. "Best of all? Enemy never sees it coming."

Syd floated ahead, a little, feeling danger start to approach.

"Keep your weapon ready, Loreena...I sense you may be right..."

The part of Syd's shell that made up her head was violently split open by an explosive tipped round, shredding to pieces that disintegrated into orange energy that disappeared. Where her head had been there was now massive spurting gusts of flame as Syd dropped to the ground, stunned before another explosive tipped round blasted open her stomach violently releasing massive gouts of flame that started burning the grass around her, though even stunned Syd made sure the flames and heat never touched Loreena Arenais-Valhoun .

Her heavily damaged shell barely had the strength to maintain cohesion, even with the now burning grass around her.

Syd screamed in pain as cryonic bolts started to pelt what remained of her armor. The Geist's shell broke down completely and she was now little more than living flame in an inferno that was quickly dying out.

She shuddered in spiritual agony as a cryonic grenade impacted on the inferno near her, and nearly a quarter of the flames died out. She needed time to rebuild her body, but that could not happen while under cryonic assault.

No way out but forward.

Still in pain, The Geist forced the limits of her concentration and surged forward, away from Loreena, leaving behind her empty, damaged suit.

She could sense them, feel their heat. Stealthed targets forty meters ahead, firing nonstop. She spread the flames wider, feeding on the oxygen. But the more the cryonic bolts hit the flames, the more she began to weaken and tire out. She needed to end this fast.

She increased the air temperature around her targets to that of an oven, encircling them in fire. But she was still weakening.

They had heat resistant equipment but as Syd fed on the oxygen and nearby bushes and grass to keep from being extinguished (And also keeping it local to around twenty meters to avoid destroying large swaths of the Naboo ecoscape)
they gradually began to weaken from heat exhaustion until they fell unconscious, but not burned or dead, as Syd didn't want to set a bad example for Loreena as she was trying to be a good Jedi herself. The flames retreated from her unconscious attackers and gathered on one spot, burning, until a naked Syd emerged from the flames, absorbing them into herself. She floated over to one unconscious mercenary, grabbed her, and woke her up by punching her in the stomach.

The merc coughed.

"Who hired you?" Syd demanded coldly.

"Space yourself!"

Syd smirked.

"Space, huh?"

She flew upward with her captive. She wasn't going to kill her.

No reason not to scare her though.

Syd looked at the terrified merc.

"Space myself? Plenty of space for gravity to do its work."

Syd then dropped her.

The merc shrieked in terror as she fell a great height, Syd flying after her and keeping speed.

"Feel like telling me now, chithead?" Syd asked when she was forty seconds from hitting the ground.

"ALRIIIGHHT! ALLLRIGHHHHT! YOU WIN! YOU WIIIIIINNNN!"

Syd slowly eased the falling merc's speed as she grabbed her, as a sudden deceleration would prove fatal. When the merc hit the ground, it only bruised her severely on an arm and a leg.

Syd floated above her, arms folded.

"Let's try again. Who hired you?"

"Sith Lord. Wierdo. Not a mainstreamer, I could tell you that much. He's got an Atrisian tiger mask on. Prayer beads, and a fan.

None of this registered at all to Syd. Consciously or otherwise.

"What's his name?"

"He never gave it. We just call him Tiger Mask."

"Where is he?"

"Where you think, witch? With that weird blade...the Moonlight Greatsaber...a few hills over...through a small forest. Its the only way to reach the Great Saber.

"How many more of you?"

"Dozens. All hiding in the woods. The woods have been booby trapped with cryonic mines. We also have hostages."

Syd sighed in annoyance. "Because of course you have hostages." she remarked tersely.

Syd decked her, gathered her shredded armor and excused herself for a moment to head back to her ship. Once inside, she decided it might actually be better to test herself...she had barely survived that ambush as she was, and the limits of her natural state had all too quickly caught up with her.

Hesitantly she chose the purified white armor of Darth Phyre, slipping it on.

Her body bulged and warped like silly putty for a few seconds as the magic of the suit quickly replaced living flame with organs and blood. Her fiery orange hair turning blood red, her body went to a normal shape and she staggered up, her emotions increasing, including her growing fondness for Loreena.

She went to her armory, deciding something more subtle might be in order in order to rescue those hostages, pulling out her autocaster (Automatic, near silent crossbow with the power of a medium range blaster) and a LaserHone Duelist Vibrorapier along with her Westar Pistol and a DC 17 Commando Pistol for Loreena.

"They will know we are coming...but if we are quick and quiet, we can hopefully reach the hostages if they are alive. It's a stall tactic. The Sith wants as much time as possible to do whatever he needs to do to the Great Saber..." Syd said as she emerged from the ship, handing Loreena a pistol and her own Autocaster, demonstrating how it worked beforehand, delighted to be showing someone with such potential the ropes, along with a few clips for it.

Syd's white and gold chrome suit reflected more brightly then her red one had as she headed to the forest line, this time more alert for threats, backed up by a newly renewed sense of mortality.

As they got closer, Syd spoke another spell, this one for stealth.

"Ashla, shield us from The Outer Eye..."

Translucent flames would envelope Syd, rapidly causing her to vanish into thin air. If Loreena accepted the magical effects on her body, she would as well. They would still be able to see each other perfectly though...

Meanwhile...

Tiger Mask was kneeling in front of the chamber containing the saber when he heard reports of tge first failure via com-link. He did not care. Once he had the blade, nothing would be able to protect the monster that had slaughtered his family.

As he watched hologram feeds of what had happened in private though, his blood chilled as he watched her exit the ship in the white armor. In fact, he had something of a panic attack.

He leaned against his seat in the command tent, shaking, trying to catch his breath...

Dyre dodged the much renewed fury of Darth Phyre. The Monk bided his time, still using the force or his prayer beads to survive her attacks. But she was still an incredibly vicious martial artist and as hard as he had trained, even he could barely turn aside her Atrisian Kung Fu.

The sheer power of her flames alone required all his knowledge of the Force to block.

Phyre was clearly a little humiliated at even having been momentarily bested by a Whill Guardian, and he coud feel her frustration mount to insane levels as the fight wore on and he refused to die, the memory of all he lost occasionally allowing him to get past her guard and rain blow after blow on her body, demolishing her skull through constant pummeling, getting white blood everywhere. But no matter how his bone crunching attacks rained down and destroyed her skeleton, the corruption of the tomb would quickly repair her body and she would merely attack him with mounting hatred.

Eventually though she pulled back. He went on guard, heart pounding, yet still refusing to activate the Great Saber.

"Impressive...most impressive...it is rare for me to be caught off guard in such a manner." Phyre admitted, bemusedly. "But I can feel you weakening. You will not survive much longer. Since my apprentice is not among the slain then I have no doubt as to who it was who betrayed me. Which means a position has just opened up!" She said gleefully.

She pointed her purple blade at him.

"I sense great potential in you, young one..." she spoke. "You have anger, but you do not use it. You could be ten times as powerful were you to embrace the Dark Side. Kneel before me, and become my new apprentice, and I will spare you."

"I'll never join you."

Phyre shrugged. "Why not?"

Dyre hid his emotions and thoughts expertly.

"Like I said. It would take too long to explain."

"You think you have a future as anything but another's tool? I can at least give you the potential to one day become the Master. It would be such a shame to kill you, given the rare spot of challenge you offered."

"My answer is final."

Phyre sighed. "What a waste...I suppose your skin will make for a fine sacrifice to the Unholy Spirit however."

The Monk had bolted forward at the max speed he could achieve, ramming his fist into her face before she could react, and her skull completely collapsed as she let out shrill, pig like squeals of pain as she was flung backward, and while she writhed on the ground, he threw det charges on the roof, waiting for her to rise, which occured seconds later, her skull and face completely healed.

"A pointless gesture of defiance." She sneered. "I will keep you alive you know, through the whole process of tearing your flesh off. I will replay all your worst memories at fast forward. I will be slow at tearing you apart."

"It is your own future that you predict, Sith, not mine." The Monk answered fervently.

The det charges blew the ceiling.

Moonlight beamed through the gap and that was when he drew the blade. He had been keeping time, drawing the fight out, not letting Phyre rest, keeping her busy. All to reach midnight.

The teal blade sparkled in the moonlight, charging its power.

Phyre snarled in agony as he pointed the blade at her and a beam of twisted moonlight shot out of it and hit her, making her flesh pull everywhere, stretching violently away from her skeleton, yet refusing to tear, her skin sloughing off her skull partly, skin looking almost melted as he approached. He had exhausted her recuperative ability.

He approached, too savvy to savor the moment he had trained so hard to reach and immediately darted forward at the helpless Phyre, whose near-melted flesh still writhed and twitched on the bone and floor and raised his blade to strike her down once and for all.

But no matter how savvy he was, Destiny was about to cheat him.

A blow to his head from behind sent him sprawling to the floor, barely retaining enough consciousness to see the deformed, writhing beast be placed in alchemized chains and dragged away before he blacked out...

He had been betrayed that day. He should have known he would never have been allowed to kill her.

He got his panic attack at facing his family's killer under control when another transmission came in.

"They're entering the tree line, milord..."

Meanwhile...

Syd knew immediately this was no ordinary woodland the moment they stepped foot in it.

It was the ancient statues of The Resistors that gave it away, carved in an ancient yellow marble, hooded and with a pentagram on their face. Some were small, others were large, but they were visible throughout the woods, some clutching what appeared to be prayer beads.

Syd went still when she saw a strange clearing filled with stones and a canopy of trees overhead, guarding something precious. In this case, what was precious was a number of Mercs guarding what appeared to be innocent civilians trapped on an altar of stone recessed into the earth, prevented from leaving due to a strange field of purple fire. There were eight mercs patrolling. Four on the right, for on the left.

Syd turned to Loreena and started whispering.

"I go left, you go right...don't strike until I do..." she said, the magic fire still hiding her from her enemies as she crept forward, getting close to her first guard, and launching nerve strikes at his neck that temporarily paralyzed him, knocking him out cold before moving onto the next with much more firmness, throwing a punch to his jaw and then elbowing him. The third at last noticed the commotion and opened fire, alerting the fourth, but Syd quickly put an end to that, flying at top speed and round house kicking him into nap time.

Syd looked over to where she sensed Loreena, ready to assist if she needed it...

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori couldn't help but be startled as the attack on Syd Celsius began. It was the flames that caught her off guard, not to mention the fact that Syd's form changed even moreso, yet appeared to suffer in the attack as well. Lori opened fire in the directions of their attackers, doing what she could to keep them at bay.

It seemed as though there were too many of them, and Lori found herself ducking for cover behind a log to keep herself from getting hit. Fortunately the flames were kept away from where she was hidden.

And it was the screams that drew her attention; screams from above. Lori looked up to watch as the merc was dropped like a yo-yo out of the sky. All in a bid to gain information. It was a tactic that Lori hadn't thought of before, but was one to consider in the future when she had her jetpack on.

She headed back to the ship, following Syd but standing guard outside of it, waiting for another ambush that never came. And once Syd reappeared with new weapons, Lori beamed with excitement. She took hold of the Autocaster and tried it out at once, testing out it's sights and line of fire. It was....a beautiful weapon.

The new protection spell brought her out of her newfound joy and into that of curiosity. "Wicked..." Lori didn't stop the spell at all, but instead felt empowered by it. Now with the added stealth, she snuck into the strange forest inbehind Syd.

Her eyes were drawn not to the statues, but to the hostages, all of them fearful of what was going to happen to them. It reminded her of the Siege of Commenor; an event that she hoped would never repeat.

As Syd took to the guards on the left, Lori began firing the Autocaster at the guards on the right, aiming for their legs or their arms, nothing fatal, just enough to slow them down before bringing up her blaster, setting it to stun as she hurried to the other side of them and firing stun rounds until the guards were piled up in a heap on the ground. The element of surprise was still with them.

Lori looked up to Syd whom she noticed was looking at her and grinned. "Well that was fun. Now we go after the big boss, yeah? You distract and I'll knock him out? Or do you want me as the bait? I'm game for either!"

 

[Syd Celsius]

Syd had been quick, but Loreena Arenais-Valhoun was quite special with a crossbow. Autocaster. Whatever.

(Cutaway of Mystique Green Arrowing Clarice Starling in The Hunger Games)

Syd employed her Dragon Kung Fu deftly, disabling, but not killing, trying not to become enamored with the thrill of battle.

She drew on her Resistor training to help seperate her emotions from combat.

As she did, her muscles swelled heavily, becoming blindingly fast as her fists and feet broke legs and arms and shattered the occasional pelvis as she methodically disabled every merc in her and Loreena's immediate area, flipping, cartwheeling, evading from all angles as she knocked as many people out as she could in her enhanced state. Finally the last of her attackers fell and the enhanced state cut off.

But there was a penalty.

Massive exhaustion dropped Syd to her knees, her flesh bubbling and shuddering everywhere under her suit, as fissures leaking bright green blood profusely opened up everywhere on her body, steam rising everywhere as green electrical arcs opened up everywhere. Her flesh, still bubbling, started to slough off her skeleton on the left side along with her hair, the steam released growing more profuse as she started to make inhuman, metallic shrieks escaping a malformed throat as she released more and more steam from her bubbling body, until icesickles formed on some parts.

At last, mercifully, the entire, disgusting sequence came to an end as her flesh stopped bubbling, the fissures on her body slowly sealing up...

(Plasmid Acquisition Theme Plays)

(Syd has learned a new (and deeply flawed) power!)

Power: FORCE VALOR

Spoiler

Massively boosts strength, speed, reflexes, and durability for a short time but do to the complicated nature of Syd's organic state, this causes her body to overload with heat, causing a biological chain reaction that causes her to involuntarily expel most of her body's heat, rendering her nearly immobile. Due to this severe weakness, this power should only be employed during the most desperate circumstances. As skill grows, duration of near immobility lessens and duration of actual power usage increases.

Loreena's question at last registered.

Syd stood up, shaking her head, green blood sliding off her armor.

"I..."

She went still, feeling a chill in the air.

"I don't think its gonna be quite that simple, Loreena." Syd admitted. "Something about this...it feels kinda personal..."

She turned to the hostages, using telekinesis to undo their bonds, who were absolutely stone cold terrified of her and ran before she could stop them. "Wait!" She called out. But it was too late. They had already fled in fear out of the woods.

Syd stood there, hovering quietly for second as she stared in the direction she ran.

"Crap...sorry about that..." Syd said, wincing in embarrassment. But it was clear how deeply them fleeing from her had hurt her.

She decided to search the enemy for sweet loot. These guys all looked a solid fifty XP each, they had to have at least some mid-tier loot...

At least, that was what she had hoped. But it was all Vendor Trash.

That is, until she noticed an unconscious man whose vibrosword had cut open a statue that turned out to be hollow. She peered within. Lightsaber parts.

She recognized the type.

(Cutaway of Darth Phyre using an Inquisitor lightsaber to cruelly and viciously tear apart a Jedi with its spinning emitters.)

Syd stumbled back, clutching her head for a few seconds, fighting the horrible memories back before she steadied herself.

"Hey, Loreena..." Syd trailed, getting her breathing under control. "Found something..."

She telekinetically floated out parts from the broken statue. She took the ones she wanted, and left Loreena the rest.

Syd then assembled the parts in mid-air, with her mind...

(Plasmid Acquisition Theme Plays)

(Skill Re-Learned!)

(Zelda Acquisition Theme Plays)

(New Weapon Acquired!)

Skill: DOUBLE BLADED SPINNING LIGHTSABER

Spoiler

Employs a lightsaber with two emitters mounted on a ringed track around the main hilt. Useful for devastating surprise attacks from unexpected angles, but highly vulnerable to hilt damage

Weapon: DOUBLE BLADED SPINNING LIGHTSABER

Spoiler

DBL that employs twin emitters mounted on a rotating track for fast, unexpected attacks at angles that can confuse an opponent. Vulnerable to hilt damage.

The hilt was a stark, gunmetal gray. When she flashed it on, an indigo kyber blade shot out.

"You might want a back up. Never hurts to prepare." Syd advised.

Meanwhile...

He was nearly through.

The wards protecting the Great Saber were nearly eroded. Soon he would have the means he needed to truly destroy Phyre.

He gazed at the weapon he had once clutched in his hand, smouldering with enough power to obliterate the wicked witch.

"It seems our stall has worked..." rasped a familiar, menacing female tone.

He turned around on the plains to face The Amalgam.

"Indeed." he admitted. He wasn't stupid. He knew his usefulness was just about ended. He had needed her for the wards but that was it. Time to spring his plan to action.

"I've been holding out on you for some time..." he spoke, his silver tiger mask reflecting her immaculate figure.

"Oh?" She asked with a raised eyebrow semi-playfully.

"Oh yes...you see...I've been in contact with Uri Udinia. She told me to give you a message..." he trailed, holding out a small wooden box.

He had her undivided attention as she snatched at the box, sliding it open.

She had maybe a half second to contemplate the Purple Synth at the center before it flung itself via magic into her face, puncturing her skull and burying itself in the center of her brain.

She coughed white blood, a blank stare, mouth leaking white blood, momentarily lobotomized. Then her whole body violently wriggled on the bone as she began vomiting white blood, the consciousness within the Synth struggling to sieze control of the body, and The Amalgam's foul spirit fighting back just as hard. Her body warped and twisted across the surface.

"That crystal belonged to one of your own cult's former Leader's. The Consensus, I believe she was called. You must know how vicious she was..."

The Amalgam writhed on the ground, flesh bubbling, constantly puking white blood up.

"Oh, I knew better than to trust you..." he sneered (I express my expectations: 70 XP), circling her writhing figure.

"I studied up on you...and your cult...and it wasn't easy but I discovered you can all copy your minds to a synth crystal to take over another body...even if its each other. So I came up with this little plan. While you fight off having your body stolen, I'm gonna wait until the wards break, corrupt the blade, and then I will slay you. Then I will slay Phyre.

"I will devour your soul..." she swore, face twisting to that of the Consensus for a split second, that of a woman with scupted , strong and sharp facial characteristics with white hair, before twisting back to her preferred face.

As she fought off the possession attempt, she tried to speak a spell, only for him to hold her lips shut with telekinesis.

"No easy button for you, schutta."

The Amalgam realized there was only one way she could leave this place alive.

Momentarily The Amalgam decided to lose the battle for her body, form fully twisting into a tall, quite muscular, white haired woman who kicked Tiger Mask Backward before sprinting into the plains, the Amalgam already trying to regain control. It needed to perform the ritual quickly to stay in control of the body. Tiger Mask considered chasing her but figured she would go back to him eventually.

After all, he now held the cards. There was no way to get the saber now without wresting it from his dead body...

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori wasn't so sure about what she thought of Syd Celsius manipulating her body in such a way to change her form. It looked painful and at times pretty ghastly. Yet that could be normal for her and just the way things were. The youngest Arenais just needed to respect it and so she decided to look upon it as more of an advantage than anything else.

The hostages weren't so accepting, however. They fleed the scene quickly once their bonds were cut. Lori looked to Syd with a bit of a shrug. "Don't feel bad. Some people just have queazy tummies, you know? I mean, even some types of cheese or certain kinds of meat can cause them to wanna run and hurl like that. Or even some horror holo-flicks!" She offered her a small smile.

Now the saber parts were something fun. Although Lori wasn't as skilled in making them. Her Dad taught her once, using ship parts from his once beautiful Capital Ship. Her lightsaber had so many elements of Commenor in it that she never wanted to lose it. That saber was her keepsake of home.

Now she was gaining another one. Though Lori constructed it with her hands. It took a bit of time, but she managed. When ignited, the blade was sky blue. And normal. Normal was boring. But it'd have to do.

She readied herself anyways. "I'm good to go. Just show me who you want me to fight and I'm on it!"

 

[Syd Celsius]

The day of Darth Phyre's Execution

Dyre awoke in a Force Cage, with a neural disruption collar preventing him from accessing The Force. The Man in White stood across from him, face covered by a white mask with a purple pentacle in the middle.

"You lying BASTARD!!! YOU SAID YOU'D LET ME KILL HER!" Dyre roared, losing control of his emotions.

"If you recall my 'exact' words I said I would let you kill her if there was no other way. There is."

"What the hell could 'possibly' make her worth keeping alive."

"Think Dyre. What greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause? To use their own knowledge against them?"

(Cutaway of ancient Jedi Masters standing over an injured Darth Revan preparing to erase his mind.)

"Madness! You can't turn a SithSpawn! Its impossible! Look, if you want a living weapon, why not use me?! I'm the one who defeated her! I proved myself the superior combatant!"

"You are a very highly skilled and driven young man to last as long as you did. The operation to stop one of the worst murderers in Galactic History would not have succeeded without you. I'm not taking that away from you at all. But let's face facts. You are good. But you are no where near Phyre's level. Phyre is almost a Force of Nature at this point. However skilled you are, you could not have done it without The Moonglare Greatsaber."

"My family was supposed to get closure."

"They will. Darth Phyre will cease to exist after today."

"Only by technicality." Dyre remarked bitterly. "I will not forget this betrayal. Or forgive it."

To Dyre's disquiet, The Man in White pulled a fifty caliber action hero pistol , the type favored by Elrond, and pointed it right at Dyre's direction, letting off two very loud gunshots whose slugs went right through the shield and impacted very close to his head on either side but not even grazing him. They hit the machines powering the cage, disabling them.

"Don't write checks whose cashing will not be permitted." The Man In White replied coldly. "I'm being as generous as I can be, given the circumstances. But I'll 'build' the coffin that will hold you if you press it."

Dyre said nothing and made no attempt at vengeance.

After a moment, The Man in White put away the handgun.

"Now, to more pleasant matters. Dinner and a show. Follow me..."

Dyre followed the Man in White to a dining room with a long but simple dining table of black wood with black chairs. There was a holographic projector in front of the plate of cheese pasta and carrots.

Dyre sat down in front of the prepared meal. The feed on the projector activated. Dyre stared at the hourglass in the chamber below. He knew what it was.

"The Hourglass of Berkana. You're insane."

"At least give me points for creativity."

"You're creatively insane."

"Better."

"You're gonna stick her ass in a giant blender and set her to puree. I'd applaud you if it was a measure to permanently kill her."

"Think about the destruction she could bring to the followers of The Dark. Darth Phyre's wretched cult still exists, and as bad as Phyre was, she was far from being the Jedi's only headache. We'll turn one of the worst weapons the Darkness ever created and force it to destroy it's own until it is destroyed."

Dyre said nothing. He knew it was pointless to argue now.

The Man sighed.

"Dyre. One day, you'll be glad I stopped you."

Dyre merely gave a death glare.

The Man in White excused himself and went to the lower level to begin Phyre's "execution"...


Fifteen minutes later...

(Narrator's note: The following passages are taken from two seperate posts and added here due to relevance.)

The green robed, pentacle masked Resistors surrounded their captured quarry, chained to the floor of stone. Though she was of middle age, she was still quite athletic looking, which was emphasized by the skin tight white and gold chrome suit she wore. Her dark crimson hair was heavily layered and dropped down to her back in curls.

Her sulphur eyes stared back at her captors. She had burnt most of them alive in her last savage rampage. These alchemized chains suppressed her power. It was the only reason she had not force fed fire down all their throats to savor their horror as the fire ate them from the inside.

For their part, many of them kept their saber emitters against her neck and stomach in case she did attempt. She had never run into the Resistors before. She was about to regret that. Heavily.

Some problems build up, slowly, making themselves known through repeat experience. Others happen in an instant. For the woman chained to the floor, staring with open murder at her captors, it seemed the latter.

In truth? Though it looked the latter, it was actually the former. The Resistors had studied Darth Phyre for months before striking. Though they had lost a hundred they had taken her alive. Unharmed. Intact.

"So tell me..." Phyre asked with a cruel smirk. "Who am I to answer to? Not a lot of governments will care that you have me."

"Oh, you aren't for them..." called out deep voice. "You are more use to us. Or will be, rather..."

Phyre narrowed sulphur eyes at the speaker as he entered the tomb her slaves had not yet finished building. He was clad all in white robes, wearing a full mask with a purple pentagram on the face, a hood drawn over it. He entered with a slow but confident walk, hands clasped behind his back. More Resistors followed behind, carrying what looked like a large picture frame under a tarp.

The Man in White stared at his quarry in the middle of the unfinished tomb.

"Am I to be executed for my so-called crimes?" Phyre asked in a bored manner, eyes glazing over a little at the memory of how delightful it had been burning that building on Corellia down with all its inhabitants.

"Yes. And no." The Man in White answered. "Do you know why you have been selected?"

"I'd say its all because you wanted to stare but I suspect your answer is a little more involved than that." Phyre answered crisply, annoyed with his cryptic routine already. She smiled at the idea of the fiery torment that awaited him once she was free.

"You are a rather unique specimen. But your crimes overshadow you as you are. I intend to...correct that.

Phyre raised a brow. It was suddenly very silent. The only sounded that could be heard was their collective breathing.

Phyre looked at him in curiousity...and perhaps fear entering a lightly accented but seductive voice.

"What is this?" Phyre asked. "What did you go to all this trouble for?"

"Your crimes are abominable. You were a scourge during the plague, and if you are permitted to be a scourge after, the galaxy will suffer. By all rights, I should simply have you executed. Court systems are still spotty in most parts. Processing your sorry hide would be a nightmare for 'any' court system..." The Man in White declared.

Darth Phyre snorted at this.

"If you're trying to psyche yourself up you might as well just embrace the darkness and slay me. Either way, the darkness gains another servant." She mocked. "But I can show you the truth about the Force. I can show all of you the truth. Simply release me."

"I have a better idea..." the hooded, masked figure turned to her. "I believe in second chances..."

Phyre scowled at him, the dim settings of the poorly lit, unfinished tomb casting shadows across her face.

"I'll never turn to the light side!"

"Nope. No you won't."

Phyre felt the snip of scissors as someone cut a lock of dark red hair from her.

"You've prepared a magical ritual. Interesting. Am I to be altered in some way?"

"Oh no, you're going to die, alright. But you will be reborn. Reborn without your pesky hatred and vile cruelty."

"You are enslaving me."

"How many have you enslaved? Murdered? Tortured? Roasted alive in front of their families? For that matter, how many families 'have' you roasted?"

"Lost count." Phyre sneered.

The Man in White shook his head. "See what I mean?"

Phyre watched as his other men brought in a strange, hourglass like machine. It wasn't until she saw the twisted, unnatural mathematical scrawl glowing green against the transparisteel casing that she realized how doomed she was.

(BFG Division by Mick Gordon plays for a few seconds.)

The bottom of the hourglass, whose frame was of a twisting wrought iron lined with pearls of amber had an inner light from within that made Phyre's skin crawl.

"You...you have the Kolda-Bratha Calculus..." Phyre trailed, a tinge of fear entering her voice for the first time.

"You're one of the strongest pyrokinetics on record. Imagine the good you could have done with such a power."

"Sounds boring."

"To you, perhaps. The other you? She'll be doing a lot of good. Galaxy needs time to heal. Gulag is barely over. No thanks to monsters like you however..."

Two of the masked, green robed men unsealed the top of the hourglass. Phyre winced as she felt the flesh painfully tug at her face. The lock of her hair was carefully secured to the chamber in the hour glass bottom via two prongs.

"So much for the vaunted Jedi morality--"

"You lecturing us on morality is like a Mandalorian telling someone blasters are too savage a weapon of war." The Man in White interrupted. "Considering who you once were...its so sad to see you this way."

Phyre looked at the strange masked man. "Do I know you?" She asked, bracing herself for the horror about to ensue.

This only earned her silence from the Man in White.

"Begin the ritual." He said curtly.

The other robed and masked people around Darth Phyre began to chant. Phyre winced in real pain as the flesh started to tug on her face.

"There is a historical precedent, of course..." The Man in White trailed as Phyre began to howl and thrash in agony in her chains, the flesh on her skin rupturing and ripping parts of itself away starting with her face. She thrashed, her blood and flesh flinging itself into the top of the hour glass, where it swirled as a cloud of gore. Phyre screamed in agony every ounce of blood and tissue, even the marrow, ripping itself from the bones, which thrashed still, even until the very end, when the brain leaked out through the eye sockets and swirled into the top of the glass, which was quickly sealed.

Phyre's skeleton, still clad in the white and gold chrome suit, clattered lifelessly into a heap.

The Man in White stared at the lock of hair suspended in the bottom. Watched as the blood and tissue flowed to the bottom chamber, and into the lock of hair which seemed to swell and wriggle as an entire human body's worth of tissue seemed to vanish into the dark red lock, which turned a fiery orange red.

The Man in White stared at the lock of hair, the hour glass now empty of blood and gore.

"Now for phase two, my old friend..."

Upon hearing these words Dyre grew enraged. His purpose had been corrupt from the start!

He could not eat. Could not stomach being tricked in such a manner.

Dyre was already leaving the table and running for the exit, intent on fighting his way into that chamber and destroying whatever was left of Phyre.

The room flooded with sleeping gas.


Present day...


He had woken up a quarter century later on Corellia, weak and in a medically induced coma in a stasis chamber.

Tiger Mask had been stripped of the Force. Simply so that he could not threaten the Flame Geist. Then he had been imprisoned, simply so that he could not tell the truth about her. He had only been released when she herself had been imprisoned on order of the mainstream Jedi.

He had been done with the Light after that.

At last the chamber containing the Greatsaber opened, the saber itself completely corrupted by the ritual.

He grasped it, flashing it on. Its blade a terrible, completely red color.

Not a moment too soon. For as he grasped it, he could feel Syd and Loreena Arenais-Valhoun cutting through his distractions in the Forest...

He was ready. At long last, he was ready.

He sent the signal to withdraw. It was time to bring his family closure...

Meanwhile...

Syd dashed through mercs and battle droids, her Force Flight siding her combat ability as it allowed her to strike from unnatural angles. She was greatful Loreena was composed of stronger stuff than the hostages. She was greatful she had not recoiled in horror.

They had proceeded to cut there way through the forest, with Syd leading the way to take the brunt of the attack, her spinning blue blades interspliced with fire attacks. People got burns or lost limbs, but not lives.

The warriors had impeded them nearly every step of the way, but they all inevitably lost. It was only when they actually started to retreat that Syd grew suspicious.

"They're pulling back..." Syd muttered. "Why?"

She then felt a Dark and Powerful presence approaching fast. She at last spotted him, his gleaming mask reflecting them as he walked through a natural hall composed of trees to reach them.

"We're too late. He has corrupted the Blade." Syd whispered, angling blue blades at him, his appearance, the war fan, ringing absolutely no bells.

"You will not hold that blade long, Sith. Surrender. We have no wish to take your life." Syd commanded.

Tiger Mask pointed his war fan at her.

"The Padawan is not my concern. She need not be involved."

Syd raised an eyebrow, but turned to Loreena.

"Another assassin I guess. I dunno. You feel like backing out?" Syd asked.

She didn't see his hands clench in rage as she wrote him off as another killer. But he controlled his emotions, masked them, refused to give her any ammo...

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori did what she could in the battle. She used her new lightsaber, branches of the trees, and even Force threw some rocks at her opponents. As Syd Celsius wasn't outright killing them, she didn't either. Besides, Lori wasn't a killer anyways. The only deaths by her hands were Sith in fighters trying to bombard Commenor. Lori had taken them out with her ship's guns.

Killing somone in person was entirely different.

As the masked man approached, she felt cold, as though the air around them had suddenly chilled. Yet it was only from within that she had felt it. The Darkside.

Lori widened her stance. "Backing out? I don't think so. And who's he to call me a Padawan?" She snorted. "Am I even dressed like someone from a Jedi Academy? I don't think so...."

 

[The Amalgam]

The tall, muscular, white haired woman staggered through the plains, flesh melting and resetting, the Amalgam within battling for control of the body. The Consensus had no intention of surrendering it.

Still in The Amalgam's flesh colored catsuit (Which started to burn, as their auras did not quite mesh) The evil brute of a witch knew she had to find some means of remaining stable.

The creature spotted a farmer doing a late night inspection for his crops for pests. She needed a fresh dose of cruelty, and so forced The Amalgam away momentarily to engage in it, buy more time.

The Consensus broke into a superhuman sprint, her musculature and reflexes even more finely honed than the Amalgam. She made no attempt to be silent. She wanted to be seen. Heard.

The farmer, busy looking for parasites only barely had enough time to react as he spotted her sprinting toward him with a savage grin. Tackling him, cackling as her knuckles began to smash into the screaming farmer's ribcage, skin shuddering as it absorbed the suffering of the victim. She kept him conscious as she pummeled him, his blood and bits of teeth hitting her face as her fists came down on his jaw. She reveled in his agony, gloried in it, for it glorified the Dark Side.

His agony finally ended as her knuckles came down one last time, caving his whole head in. Her flesh shuddered, processing the evil she had commited, letting her stay in control.

She stared down at the corpse. Now was the time. Do it while The Amalgam was fully suppressed at the moment.

She dragged the mutilated corpse into the nearby barn to begin the ritual with his blood. Feeding off his pain and murder had bought her maybe ten minutes. Unfortunately for the Amalgam, that was 007 more minutes than she actually needed.

She had drawn the pentacle with half his blood, half hers, along with the wards in record time. She then began kneeling. Began to chant.

With distinct joy, she felt her persona anchoring down, seeping into the body like poison, altering its chemical output, hooking on to the reins of the Amalgam's mind. She did not sense a far more horrifying darkness had subverted the Amalgam months before, before she had even entered Kay's service in the Eternal Empire.

Kay had never truly interacted with The Amalgam after their meeting at The Graveyard. The Graveyard had been the only time Kay had truly spoken to the Amalgam, not a copy of Darth Phyre's persona hiding in her stolen body, hiding underneath The Amalgam's effectively zombified mind that still thought it was alive and had a will of its own.

The greater darkness decided to let The Consensus think it had succeeded, making no challenge to the Brute's attempt to stake claim to The Amalgam, for it knew the Consensus would not be in any more control than the Amalgam was. When the Persona of the Consensus finally laced itself to the Amalgam's subconscious, or rather, that mutilated shreds Darth Phyre had kept intact for structural integrity, only too late did it realize it was in the grip of that greater darkness, which siezed and assimilated it just as it had with The Amalgam, spitting out an ultimately zombified mind that only had whatever will she allowed it. Outwardly, the muscular woman showed no change. The new surface persona believed everything had gone to plan. She stood up, believing her will was still her own, that her mind was still alive...

The Consensus decided to inaugurate her return to power by looking for a village whose inhabitants she could pummel to death with her bare hands...

The Consensus left the Barn, subconsciously laughing in Darth Phyre's voice...

(Plasmid Acquisition Theme Plays)

('The Amalgam' gained a new Force Power!)

Power: THE CONSENSUS

Spoiler

Uses the Dark Side to transform into The Consensus, a supremely physically strong Sith Witch and Marauder, allowing access to Light Whip and sword whip fighting, along with greatly enhanced natural speed and command of Dark Side abilities most useful to Sith Warriors. Drawbacks include an increased vulnerability to magic, The Persona having goals not always in line with The Amalgam's and the need to kill one person as violently as possible every twenty four hours to stay in control of the body

Meanwhile...

Loreena Arenais-Valhoun had refused to sit it out. Syd respected that, nodding and turned to the masked fighter.

"You had best be prepared to surrender if you are not prepared for two fighters."

The Man angled the claymore-like Lightsaber in their direction, but he was clearly angry at Loreena for not bowing out. She looked a great deal like his daughter, who had been murdered by Darth Phyre.

"Foolish girl! I'd hoped to cut you a break!" Tiger Mask growled in frustration, only wanting one person dead. "You wanna be stupid newbie?! FINE! LETS DANCE MOTHERFETHER!"

Tiger Mask channeled his hatred through the blade, unleashing fierce blue-black blasts of magical energy at Loreena, only For Syd to block the attack by letting it grind against her blade, even as her flesh began to melt and sag and bubble on her face and arms just being in proximity to the magic she held at bay. With a mighty heave she twisted the energy away with her blade, springing forward and furiously attacking him, only for his hand covered in reinforced prayer beads to patiently swat aside her saber attacks, countering with a slash at her gut from the greatsaber, which Syd barely parried in time. She swiped and slashed and stabbed at him but he expertly parried all her attacks while not even moving, prayer bead covered fist smashing into her face and deforming it, leaving a mark of his knuckles in her face like it was silly putty.

She stumbled backward, a short, unnatural metallic squeal of pain escaping her throat as she stumbled back. The Armor went to work, undoing her dented flesh slowly as she advanced.

"That style..." she trailed, eyes widening.

"A Whill Guardian?" She mused in faint surprise, cocking her head at him to one side in confusion. "What motivates a Whill Guardian--even a fallen one--to get 'this' good?"

Instead of an answer he came at her furiously with the Greatsaber smashing its blade against hers repeatedly. Syd barely turned aside hate filled power attacks from the blade, feeling her magical flesh weaken the longer it was in proximity.

When they achieved blade lock, only at last, did Syd get a glimpse of a very deep seething hate in her opponent's spirit.

"Are you familiar to me?" She asked in genuine curiosity as they tried to win the lock. "Have we met, on some distant field?" (Kill The Riddick: 90 XP)

His answer was the same he had given her Sith Persona.

"It would take too long to explain..."

He headbutted her backward. In response she belched a stream of orange flames his direction but he channeled his power through his war fan, dispersing them magically as he waved it repeatedly at the stream of fire.

He let his hate for Phyre flow through him, and he bolted for Loreena, looking both to murder the distraction, and to hurt Syd by making her watch a friend die...his blade swung for her face...

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori was almost mezmerized as she watched the duel between Syd Celsius and the tiger-masked man. Their movements flowed like some kind of a deadly dance and she had to remind herself that it wasn't a spar. This was a duel.

The tension in the air wasn't as thick as she had expected. Instead the air around them all felt more alive. No doubt it had to do with the Force being used by the two. Techniques were used that she had never seen before and that just drew her into it even more.

And that war fan was pretty awesome. Lori's mom had an umbrella that was just as affective against lightsaber attacks, blaster fire, etc. She could almost imagine a store selling a plethora of goofy items like that. Maybe it was something that she could do when she retired? Who knows?

Yet the moment the fight was directed towards her, Lori brought herself from her thoughts and focused on the here and now. She blocked his strike and parried, stepping back to give herself more space between them. "You know this won't work well for you! Quit while you're ahead!" And by that she meant that while he was diatracted with her, Syd would probably be replenishing herself to fight him with renewed strength.