Faction The Soil Endures: From Scars to Song || Sith Order

[Irina Jesart]

Tags: Torvald Aerik Lechner Skadi Lightbane

Fire reflected in Irina’s eyes, her gaze one the dancing flames at the feet, letting the noise of the celebration wash over her. The wounds across her torso and shoulder still burned but the pain was quieter than it had been, courtesy of rest and bacta. Her mind drifted, reflecting on everything that has transpired in the last twenty four hours.

The conversation with Gerwald Lechner before the battle, the lesson that should have stuck that had come apart the instant Aerik had lost control. She’d argue it wasn’t entirely her fault, that the bond that had snapped into place between them had fed his rage into her own. It was one thing to temper and manage your own fury and recognise rashness in the face of it, but to take on another’s like she had? Yet even as she formed the argument in her head, it sounded…weak.

Then there had been the conversation with Aerik, in the quiet warmth of the biodome. To hear him finally admit his feelings should have left her heart singing, and it did, but there was a fear behind it. Knowing what she did now…knowing what he might be planning.

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Its a good scar.” she told him. Watching as he lowered to add a log to the fire before rising. Her fingers brushed his in answer to his gladness, Skadi echoed his sentiment and Irina drew a small breath exhaling in a soft quiet sigh.

Skadi.

When Irina had gone down, Skadi’s first instinct had been to save her, despite how she’d been treated by Rin. Shame struck her, settling in the core of her chest and she shifted on her feet. It was something she needed to rectify.

Torvald’s voice cracked through the quiet, closer than it had been and Rin rolled her eyes. “Savage.” she muttered under her breath, knowing full well he’d hear it, though she did offer him a small smile. As much as she like to poke fun at the old wolf, he had rapidly become one of the most important people in her life.

She felt Skadi’s eye on her and took half a step back letting Torvald claim Aerik’s attention as she met Skadi’s gaze, she jerked her head towards the forest around them, silently suggesting a walk.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Tags: Madrona A’Mia Darth Strosius Varin Mortifer​

When A’Mia drew her back to arms length, those sea foam eyes assessing Lina in a way only she possibly could, Lina did the same, looking for a source for the dark patches of blood on her robes and finding none, only then did she relax, relief settling again. She was alright, she wasn’t anywhere close to her normal self, there was a heaviness to the way she spoke, exhaustion no doubt.

Her comment regarding a possible breakthrough made Lina’s lips curl into a small smile, but she did not divulge. It was not a conversation for her and now. Not with so many ears present. She felt Alisteri behind them a moment before she spoke his name, turning, keeping one hand falling to the crook of A’Mia’s arm as her gaze swept rapidly up and down Alisteri form, seeing no wounds or anything in his stance to give her cause for concern.

She grabbed his arm and tugged him closer, placing a kiss on the cheek of his mask. She didn’t care what anyone thought or how much he wanted to hide from it, he was not going to get away with greeting her after he’d been in a battle with a fething nod. Lina would deal with that later.

Only then did she acknowledge Varin with an apologetic smile. “I am sorry Varin, I did not mean to cut you out there. I just…” she trailed off her gaze drifting back to A’Mia, concern still lingering in her expression. She followed A’Mia’s lead towards the fire, keeping her arm looped tightly in the Neti’s.

“If the Imperial Confederation have not learned their lesson yet, then perhaps we need to change the way we teach them.” The anger gave her voice a hard edge and she let out a small sigh. “Are you alright, A’Mia, my dear?” She asked as they settled by an unclaimed fire, the servant offering the tray for A’Mia to help herself to.

“Leave the tray.” Lina told him, her tone sharper than it should have been. “And bring us drinks, please.”

 

[Aerik Lechner]

Wearing: This | Weapons: Lightsaber | Knife
TAG: Skadi Lightbane | Irina Jesart | Torvald​

The weight of Torvald's hand settled across Aerik's shoulder with familiar solidity, the kind of grip that carried both reassurance and quiet inspection. He shifted slightly beneath it, settling comfortably into the contact as the warmth of the fire and the presence of those around him steadied something deeper than muscle.

He drew a slow breath before answering.

"I am better," he said, meeting the older warrior's gaze without hesitation. "Stronger than I was when it started, though I am still figuring out how I feel about all of it."

There was no attempt to dress the answer in bravado, only quiet honesty. The memory of the battle remained sharp in places and strangely absent in others, as though parts of it belonged to someone standing just out of reach. He accepted the uncertainty without pressing against it, content to let understanding come in its own time.

Irina's words drew his attention, and he turned toward her as she called the scar a good one. A small smile touched his expression, softening his features as firelight traced the jagged mark along his jaw. The compliment stirred the memory of Skadi's earlier certainty when she had called it handsome, and the thought settled warmly beneath the surface.

"It will do," he said, the hint of amusement lingering in his tone as his fingers brushed the edge of the scar in an absent gesture.

The brief contact of Irina's fingers against his had not gone unnoticed, nor had the warmth in her eyes, and he allowed the moment to stand without crowding it with words. There was comfort in the simple understanding shaped by shared experience and the things neither of them needed to say aloud.

Torvald's praise brought a faint lift of his brow, and he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment rather than deflection. "I have had good company," he replied, glancing between Skadi and Irina with quiet appreciation. "That tends to make a difference."

The fires crackled softly, sending a scatter of sparks upward as laughter carried from somewhere beyond the circle. Aerik caught the subtle shift between the two women, the quiet exchange of looks and the small movement that spoke of a conversation waiting for its own space, and he allowed himself a knowing breath without lingering on it.

He shifted his weight and gave Torvald a sidelong glance, a hint of easy mischief touching his expression.

"Come on you Old Wolf, let’s see if anyone has hidden the good mead from you."

The suggestion carried enough humor to soften the intent, and he stepped slightly aside, opening the space near the fire without drawing attention to the gesture.

The firelight danced across his features, catching in the uneven lines of the scar as he settled easily beside Torvald, content to remain in the warmth of the moment even as the deeper weight of the battle lingered quietly beneath the surface. There was relief in being here among voices that felt like home, even if parts of the storm still waited to be understood.

For now, that was enough.

 

[CT-312]

//: Darth Hydra | OPEN //:
//: Brosi //:
//: Attire //:

//: Objective II: The Living Grounds//:​

CT-312 had to see it for herself.

Her boots pressed into the living soil. The ground did not feel artificial. It felt grown. As the forest breathed in a gentle glow around them. Its bioluminescent growth clung to the bark and vines in a blue and green hue. Faintly pulsing in its glow. Each step carried her through overlapping halos of living light that moved as the canopy above stirred.

Familiar.

Not in memory alone… but something deeper. CT-312 continued to move without disturbing the vegetation too much. The records and images she had seen did not lie. If anything, they had failed to capture how complete and breathtaking the transformation truly was.

A faint chorus of voices cackled across the comms. Distorted slightly by encryption and distance. Sith channels, celebrating loudly. Victory reports bleed into CT-312’s helmet uninvitedly. “BARCA.” speaking within the confines of her helmet. “Shut it off. Only alert if it’s something of interest.” BARCA responded instantly with a series of beeps. [Understood]

The voices vanished and silence returned. CT-312 hadn’t realized how tightly her jaw had been set until the absence of sound left nothing to occupy it. The irritation and annoyance remained. It tightened beneath her ribs… alongside something more difficult to define. Something worn thin.

Images she had seen before arriving had awakened something buried deep that CT-312 had not fully had time to process until now. Fragments of memories. White surfaces… Sterile light… White coats moving past her without any pause or hesitation. Data pads held in indifferent hands as voices discussing outcomes without acknowledging the subject.

CT-312 forced the memory back down before it could resolve into anything concrete. Her breathing remained steady with her posture unchanged. ‘Contained.’ she repeated internally. It was not a suggestion. Always. Contained. It was a requirement.

As she stepped forward into a natural clearing, CT-312 slowed. Gloved hand pressed gently against a low branch, heavy with layered leaves. The plant bended quietly as she held it aside. Allowing the path to remain open. CT-312 waited for Darth Hydra to pass ahead of her. Only when he moved through to the clearing did she release the branch. The leaves returned to their natural position with a soft rustle. The Scout looked beyond the clearing.

The jungle-like forest stretched outward in vast depth layers. Pockets of damage remained visible as sections where growth had not fully returned. “Darth Hydra.” Behind CT-312’s eyes that looked outward behind the visor, the fragments of memories surfaced again. White walls. Gloved hands adjusting instruments. “Sith…” Data scrolling across illuminated screens. A list of designation numbers instead of names. Specifically... 3-1-2. Her number.

“What does being Sith mean to you?”

CT-312 stood motionless beneath the bioluminescent canopy. Her silhouette absorbed into the quiet glow of the living forest. Around her, Brosi continued its slow, patient reclamation.

 

[Skadi Lightbane]

Direct Tag: Irina Jesart
Other Tags: Aerik Lechner // Torvald ​

The moment between the four of them shifted, like smoke on the breeze. Torvald and Aerik were quickly becoming engrossed in their own interaction, and when Skadi’s gaze had found Irina - she saw that the other young woman was looking back at her, firelight glinting in her dark eyes.

An unspoken understanding passed between them as Irina took half a step away from Aerik. She jerked her heads subtly towards the surrounding forest, and Skadi gave her a smile of agreement. She cast Aerik one last glance, and the briefest touch against his arm, then she stepped away to join Irina.

She fell in step beside the other girl, and the firelight slowly faded as they drew further away. At first, the Valkyri didn’t say anything. She just listened to the myriad of voices that drifted up and around the World Tree - like soft prayers offered to the gods. Then she glanced sideways at the other warrioress.

“How fares your injury, Irina? Are you healing well?” she inquired, her voice neutral, soft. She still remembered quite vividly the moment where the other girl had gone down, and her lifeblood had poured from the savage wound in her shoulder. She remembered how the girl’s red blood had stained her hands, made them sticky. How hard it had been to wash it off once it had dried, caked to her skin.

The sight of it, Irina’s pain - and the panic in her voice in regards to Aerik - it stayed with the Valkyri. Kept her up at night, sometimes. She did not regret her actions; however. Though the girl beside her had tried to kill her in a bout of fiery jealousy - she did not hold it against her. And losing Irina would have broken Aerik - and Skadi couldn’t bear to think about that. Saving her life had been the only logical move. She’d do it again, a hundred times over, if she needed to.

 

[Lirka Ka]

FIRES OF CELEBRATION
TAGS: OPEN

Celebration was the tradition after victory. The Sith indulged in their revelry plenty when the sweet ambrosia of victory was at their lips, they had done it before. And history had repeated itself, as it always did. Imperial arrogance stonewalled by the cosmic might of Dark Lords.

And the great many lives expended upon Brosi’s soil, of course. No victory was earned without loss of some form or fashion, while the great storms had raged within the World Tree Lirka had stood upon the frontlines of the engagement in that bloody duel against her would-be-assassin.

Much like Brosi itself, Lirka bore her wounds. Her nearest safe house was still a fair ways away, and with the dust so recently settled the Once-Sephi had little chance to go for repair: the best she had been capable of was washing the alien gore from her mangled forearm. Meat had certainly been plentiful in the wake of the destruction, but little had been of the monster’s preferred quality. The sloppy gristle of humans was rarely good enough for a carefully crafted freak like Lirka.

So while celebrations were underway, the Goliath that was the Once-Sephi walked as a far more marred thing than most of the guests. She gash of smoldered metal that dug deep into her shoulder where her blade had been turned against her, an arm mostly smashed and mangled: yet propelled to use by the foulness within her plate. And the shattered slit-lense of her helmet that allowed the bizarrely dyed eye within to look out with the glint of inquisitiveness that followed the Dark Councillor whenever she made her rounds at these gatherings.

This wasn’t much her idea of fun. But it was certainly where she liked to play politics, when allowed. The second battle of Brosi was but the start after all - there would be many rousing speeches to be made to rile up her colleagues into total Imperial obliteration. But for now - it was time to observe, and see where the closest entertainment would appear.

That didn’t involve going for the throat of Darth Strosius and seeing what happened - simply didn’t feel proper, considering circumstances.

And while Lirka’s single fleshy-eye glazed over the assembly, it soon looked high upon one of the other observers that loomed in the treetops. It was perhaps no great shock they took after each other - Neryn Ka had been one of her newest spawn, a supposed-son and proof of concept for her delving. Wordlessly she let the eye lock - he was a fledgling out of the nest. And a gathering like this was certainly a chance to spread the influence.

But for now, she did not call out. It was simply unneeded. They shared a bond deeper than that. Lirka had made sure of it. Words did not do justice to the link she created within her monsters.

 

[Neryn Ka]

Neryn stopped mid-bite, his razor teeth partly closed around a haunch of meat as he greedily shoved food under his mask. She had arrived. His mother, creator, goddess. Whatever term one wished to use.

For a moment, he didn't see her, but he felt Lirka Ka 's presence like a sledgehammer to his senses. Of course, that was how he had been made. To desire his creator's approval and proximity above all other things. Yet again, Neryn felt the barest flicker of a looming existential crisis, and yet again, he buried it with a swig of wine.

Neryn had made a few valuable discoveries already in his brief existence. One of them was that ruminating on one's inbuilt purposes and limitations was a waste of valuable time, time better spent peeling something's skin off to hear the noises it made. He was not particularly prone to dwelling on his lot in life. Another was that one could usually silence those bothersome inner voices with the appropriate beverage, at least for a time.

Instead, he swivelled his head this way and that, sweeping his blazing yellow sockets across the growing assembly below. It didn't take him long to find the Creator. She was below, looking as though she'd been run over by a tank. Neryn only vaguely knew what a tank was, but believed it was usually best to avoid being run over by one.

Dutifully, he yawned, stretched out in a decidedly feline manner, dropped his half-finished meat haunch onto the head of an annoyed pedestrian below him, and raised himself into a crouching posture.

His wings snapped open with a whoosh of displaced air, spanning many times the length of his body. With a grunt of effort and a flexing of muscle, he took to the air, gliding down to her with the lazy ease of a carrion bird.

Laziness was perhaps Neryn's hallmark trait, displayed even when doing something as dynamic as flight. Aside from a brief flutter halfway there, and a slightly reorientation to adjust trajectory, he barely moved a muscle before landing.

The leathery, smoldering wings folded shut behind his back with a sound like an umbrella being sucked through an airlock.

"Hello, Creator-Mother." Neryn simpered, utilizing the tone of fawning deference that he always seemed to adopt when speaking to the Progenitor. Neryn was under no illusions that such toadying would earn him any favor, but that didn't stop him from doing it anyways. "You look unwell. Is there perhaps any way I can be of assistance?"

Now that he was closer, he could more easily observe the extent of the damage. If the Progenitor had indeed been crushed by a tank, it looked as though the tank had won. At the very least, it looked as though it had put up a hell of a fight before being crushed in turn by the Progenitor. Neryn decided this second possibility was the most likely, as surely nothing could defeat his seemingly-omnipotent creator.

That was the programming talking, of course. Neryn was self-aware enough to know. Nothing was invincible, at least that he'd yet encountered. He also knew that the opinion of a 72-hour-old vatborn didn't count for much in the grand scheme of a universe that he knew very little about. Therefore, it was best to be on the safe side.

He cocked his head to one side in a curiously avian fashion, at an angle extreme enough to suggest distinctly non-humanoid neck structure. "What manner of foe did this?"

 

[Darth Strosius]

Tags: Madrona A’Mia / Lina Ovmar / Varin Mortifer
--------------------------------------------

A hum served as His response to Varin's greeting, His hidden gaze appraising the apprentice with some scrutiny before the question earned a slight nod. "So it would seem, you've certainly changed since we last met." In more ways than one from what He could tell. "I have no complaints, however I've yet to have my fill of action against our foes. Especially after seeing this." Whether He was referring to the state of Psilofyr and the area around them or A'Mia's current state of distress was unclear.

The question of Revna's whereabouts was met with a slight cock of His head, Darth Strosius raising an eyebrow beneath His mask before offering a shrug. "Far from here I should think, or en route." He didn't assume that she would have taken part in the battle for Brosi, certainly not without asking for His guidance and assistance in doing so at any rate. More than likely she was making her way to the planet now if He had to guess but of course He couldn't be certain.

Before the masked man could muse on His daughter any further however, the call of His name snapped His gaze back to the Neti. A smile crept onto His hidden features as He idly took a step closer to the pair. "A'M-" He paused, remembering that Varin was still stood there. "Lady Madrona, your world is already recovering quite swiftly. In no small part to your own contribution I'm sure." It was an almost sanitized, clinical remark yet one tinged with a hopeful tone that He never usually sported. An attempt at comforting in mixed company.

An attempt at subtlety that was almost immediately rendered null and void when Lina pulled Him alongside her and A'Mia to plant a kiss on His cheek. "Lina!" He hissed under His breath, glancing around to watch for any wandering gazes or prying eyes. "Not in front of the apprentice at least, think of the poor boy's innocence." Darth Strosius muttered lowly as He dutifully followed her and the Neti to the fireside, doing His best to not glance back at Varin to see if the younger Sith had indeed seen the scene before him.

He wasted no time in coaxing the tray from the server as Lina requested, and firmly at that, some beverages to accompany the treats. Of course He had little intent of indulging in them Himself, for now at least. Instead He'd occupy A'Mia's other side across from Lina and keep the tray's contents offered up to the pair of them to partake in. He still wasn't quite certain on the dietary needs and habits of Neti but if nothing else He hoped that A'Mia would enjoy something solid in her stomach.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

​

Brosi
Objective 3
Tags: Darth Strosius | Lina Ovmar | Varin Mortifer | OPEN

Varin's question called unbidden to her mind a kind of knowing that was hard to ignore once it bloomed. Something had happened during the battle… though what exactly bore further exploration and explanation. In the climax of conflict, Revna Marr had connected with A'Mia and Psilofyr in a way that still now seemed to bind them. On her own planet, anything or anyone walking upon the living soil could be located by the neti with some significant focus dedicated to the task. But when Revna's whereabouts were questioned, A'Mia knew right away where the woman was and that she shared quiet company with another.

Not wanting to dissuade the curiosity and manners of the proper young apprentice, she calmly explained as her, Lina and Alisteri settle in to their seats by the fire.

"Actually, she was here," a gentle correction, aware that Alisteri might take the news personally.
"Fighting at my side — sister to the grove that she is, addressing unfinished business with Imperial filth."

She uttered that last word with unusual vehemence. The neti wasn't known to be particularly wrathful, nor easily angered. But the shadow of malice became thick upon her in that moment, before her bearing again returned to tired neutrality.

"She is that way," A'Mia pointed one long slender finger.
"Watch the foliage, it will guide you to her."

That done, A'Mia turned back to the platter of dolmas and plucked one up to pop it into her mouth. Her eyes closed and a quiet hum animated her at the much desired nourishment. She didn't strictly require solid foods, water and broad spectrum sunlight could sustain a neti nigh indefinitely, but A'Mia had grown accustomed to and even enjoyed the cuisine other sentients partook in.

"I'm quite pleased you're here," blue-green eyes reopened as she looked to Ali then Lina.

"Do not hold yourself accountable for absence," she reached to squeeze Lina's hand briefly, before turning to select another bite of food.
"Your presence now is perfectly timed."

"How did you fare in Rann? They treated you as having utmost authority, I hope," she asked of Alisteri.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin held the stein in his grasp as Lord Strosius looked over how much Varin had changed, changes that he saw as minimal but could be jarring to others. His eye twitched slightly over his prosthetic as the slight itch crept back in from just behind.

“I have been away from home and other familiar faces for quite some time. This only my second time being on Brosi.”

He glanced around at the overgrowth of forests, just barely missing the kiss to Lord Strosius’ cheek”

“It had changed so much from my first encounter.”

When Lady Ovmar spoke Varin turned to face her and gave her a slight nod.

“There's no offense, Lady Ovmar. I understand the feeling of embrace. I was just passing through to give my regards.”

As she spoke of the Imperials and the possibility of teaching them a harsher lesson. Varin’s grip tightened over the stein, spiderweb like cracks forming around the mug before shattering spilling the contents on the ground. Varin was slow to react before finally looking down at the mess.

“Excuse me.”

He listened to Lord Strosius as he explained where Lady Revna may be, or that she were on her way, his eyes then moved over to Lady Madrona as she spoke, even going as so far to point him in the direction. He slowly lowered his hand as the last bits of the stein fell from his gauntlet.

“If we do tend to teach these Imperials a harsher lesson, I swear it that I will be there.”

His mouth opened once more to apologize about not being here, but he cut himself short as the trio began to move with each other to take seats. Varin would allow them their own moment of somewhat privacy, sticking back behind them and slowly turning to walk into the forest where the trail seemed to guide him towards his Master.

Darth Strosius | Lina Ovmar | Madrona A’Mia | Revna Marr​

 

[Irina Jesart]

Tags: Skadi Lightbane Aerik Lechner Torvald

Silence between the two women stretched as they moved away from the warmth of the fire, not uncomfortable, just contemplative as Irina tried to organise her thoughts to bring order to what needed to be said in her mind before tackling it. Her gaze drifted outwards passing over different groups clustered celebrating or reflecting in turn.

Dark eyes flicked back to Skadi as she asked about her injury and she let out a small sigh. “It aches, but it won’t be long till it's fully healed.”

She cast a glance back towards Aerik and Torvald, already wondering elsewhere in search of mead for the old wolf. That his focus was on the white wolf and not on them made her relax just a little before returning her attention back to the valkyri.

“I owe you my thanks…,” she hesitated, eyes moving back to the aimless path they walked, “and an apology. When I went down, your first instinct was to come to me. That was…unexpected, considering how I behaved on Kaas, but appreciated all the same.”

Her jaw worked, clearly battling with something, before she continued. “I am not good with people. Soldiers, yes, but people… Aerik is different…easy. I don’t have to check every word or measure every sentence before I speak it, with him I am just…Rin.” She smiled slightly as brought them to a stop in the shadow of a large tree, out of sight and earshot of both wolves, eyes meeting Skadi’s.

“When his father pulled me from the academy and separated us he was alone. You came into his life at a time he needed you and as much as I hate the proximity you now have, he still needs you.” She looked down, clearing her throat “So…I am sorry, for my behaviour, for attacking you. I am not an easy person to get along with.” She looked back up “But for his sake, I will try.”

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Tags: Madrona A’Mia Darth Strosius Varin Mortifer​

Lina glowered at Alisteri, at his panicked hiss. She didn't need to see his golden eyes to know that they were flicking wildly about the people gathered. “Tell me again not to give you affection after you’ve been fighting without me, ki sosûtudas. See how fast I rip that mask off and kiss you where everyone can see.” she said, her voice low and dangerous, daring him to challenge her even as he sat on A’Mia’s other side.

Her gaze shifted, smiling towards Varin as he drifted towards the path created. She really did need to catch the boy for a conversation beyond these brief passes at social events. She filed the reminder away, something she would organise at a later date.

For now, her focus was here and now. On A’Mia and Alisteri. She realised as they spoke, as the firelight reflected on his armour and cast dancing shadows over the neti’s form how much she cared for them. Not just for him, but for her also.

She lifted a drink from the offered tray as A’Mia squeezed her hand. “I still would have preferred to be fighting at your side." She said softly lifting the hand to brush a stray vine aside as she ate. “We compliment each other so well.”

 

[Skadi Lightbane]

Direct Tag: Irina Jesart
Others: Aerik Lechner // Torvald ​

Skadi was pleased to hear that her injury would soon be healed, though it still bothered Irina. That was to be expected - it had been a grievous injury, afterall.

After another moment of contemplative silence, Irina broke it by saying something that Skadi hadn’t expected. She thanked her for what she had done…and apologized. She hadn’t expected Skadi’s reaction to come to her aid when she went down, and the Valkyri felt a slight smirk tug at the edges of her lips. She said nothing immediately, simply letting the other young woman say what needed to be said…or what she felt needed to be said.

“I am not good with people. Soldiers, yes, but people… Aerik is different…easy. I don’t have to check every word or measure every sentence before I speak it, with him I am just…Rin.”

Skadi nodded, keeping her pace steady but unhurried, her gaze ahead of her as they both walked side by side. She understood what Irina was saying, where she was coming from. It was obvious that she was not good with people, not in a social setting anyway. She had a feeling the ebon hued girl beside her had a storied past, and while she was curious to know of it - she refrained from asking about it. Yet, anyway.

Perhaps this could be the start of a connection that could be built on mutual trust. Trust in each other, enough to reveal one’s deeper secrets.

Irina stopped them under the shadow of a large tree, out of sight of the men and hopefully earshot too. She turned to face Skadi, and met her gaze. “When his father pulled me from the academy and separated us he was alone. You came into his life at a time he needed you and as much as I hate the proximity you now have, he still needs you.”

Skadi remained quiet as Irina looked down and cleared her throat, listening respectfully until the other woman was able to finish what was on her mind in the moment. “So…I am sorry, for my behaviour, for attacking you. I am not an easy person to get along with. But for his sake, I will try.”

The Valkyri glanced back in the direction whence they had come, still maintaining her silence a moment longer.

“I would have done the same thing you did - had I been in your place. So I understand, and I do not hold it against you. A lot of things happened all at the wrong time, at the wrong place. I am more than willing to bridge the gap between us - I do want to. Aerik needs you too, and he considers both of us part of his pack now. Pack members should not fight one another, but support and look out for each other.” She returned her gaze back to Irina and offered a true, genuine smile.

“That is why I did what I did, when I gave you aid. It would destroy Aerik to lose you - and I can not bear the thought of that. I - I am sorry for putting you in the position you found yourself in…back at his apartment. I had no business being there. But perhaps the gods fated it was to happen - otherwise, the truth might never have come out. I...do hope you and Aerik are okay now...?”

 

[Torvald]

TORVALD

Torvald gave him a toothy smirk as Aerik spoke.

“That’s good lad, it was an extremely eventful day for everyone. And I am so happy to share drinks with the four of us alive rather than having to leave a mug full in an unoccupied chair.”

He paused for a moment as he looked at the table of his dining warriors, some chairs not filled, some plates not served, in their place are filled mugs of mead and their helms.

“It’s never an easy feeling to have to do that for our fallen. But they still dine with us tonight and await our arrival one day.”

He looked back at Aerik as the two ladies went off to speak amongst themselves.

“Lad, I would be honored to share a drink with you. You will find no better mead than what I bring though.”

Torvald stepped past the fire and walked over to two very old kegs that sloshed, picking them both up one in each hand he set them down by their seats and opened the tap.

“Aged for over two hundred years lad. This stuff will knock you on your arse if you aren’t careful.”

He grabbed a stein and poured, filling his cup to the brim with little foam, then handed it off to Aerik.

“Enjoy lad. You all earned it.”

He then poured himself a stein and sat down on the log by the fire light looking up at the sky for a moment before taking a giant swig the sweet yet tart liquid coating his tastebuds then blooming with warmth in his chest.

Aerik Lechner | Skadi Lightbane | Irina Jesart​

 

[Aerik Lechner]

Wearing: This | Weapons: Lightsaber | Knife
TAG: Skadi Lightbane | Irina Jesart | Torvald​

Aerik watched Torvald in silence as the older warrior spoke of empty chairs and filled mugs, his gaze following the line of helms set where voices should have been. The firelight reflected softly across polished metal and dark wood, and for a moment the sounds of celebration seemed to recede beneath the simple truth of what had been paid to stand here tonight.

He inclined his head slightly, a gesture of respect that needed no words.

"They would not forgive us if we did not drink well in their honor," he said quietly, his voice carrying steady warmth rather than sorrow. "And I suspect they would complain loudly if we watered it down."

A faint smile touched his expression as Torvald moved to the kegs, the sound of sloshing liquid and the solid weight of wood settling near the fire carrying its own sense of tradition. Aerik stepped closer and accepted the stein with both hands, feeling the cool metal against his palms and the faint rise of warmth from the fire at his back.
The scent reached him first, rich and sharp with age, carrying something deeper that spoke of time and careful keeping.

He lifted the mug slightly in acknowledgment before taking a measured drink. The mead spread across his tongue with surprising strength, sweetness giving way to a deeper bite that settled warmly in his chest, and he exhaled slowly as he lowered the stein.

"You were not exaggerating," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly. "I will try not to embarrass myself."

He settled onto the log beside Torvald, resting his forearms lightly against his knees, the firelight catching along the scar at his jaw as he glanced briefly toward where Skadi and Irina had stepped away. He did not linger on the thought, trusting that whatever conversation waited between them would find its own course.

For a moment he simply watched the flames.

"I am glad to be here," he said after a while, his voice thoughtful but steady. "Days like this remind me that victory is not only measured in what we hold, but in who stands beside us when the fighting ends."

He lifted the stein slightly toward Torvald in quiet salute.

"To those who still walk with us," he added, the words offered with calm conviction.

Aerik took another drink, letting the warmth settle through him as the fire crackled softly and the night stretched wide above them, filled with stars that seemed a little brighter for the simple fact that they were here to see them.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

TAGS: OPEN

It was rare for Darth Nefaron to contemplate his path.
​

Yet beneath the great canopy, the Corpse Lord found a quiet moment to himself, standing before a hastily erected memorial to the fallen defenders of Brosi. There were many such monuments, created by surviving members of squads or by Sith who felt particularly sentimental, yet Nefaron settled before one that had but a single word etched into the plastoid armor of a fallen Imperial trooper.

REVENGE
​

The sole driving force of the Sith since the days of the Hundred-Year Darkness, the days when the Jedi and Sith first spilled their own blood over petty doctrinal differences. Make no mistake, Darth Nefaron cared little for the average citizen fighting under the banner of the Sith, but in this, the common man and the Dark Lord could at least find common ground. The Corpse Lord's pale fingers tapped at this cane, its dark wood cruelly twisted and shaped much like its owner. He did not need its aid to walk, and yet he maintained it for the sake of appearances. That's what this whole charade was, the Sith pretending to enjoy eachothers company long enough to show the galaxy they could play nice.

But why? Why bother?

The revenge of the Sith was incomplete. While battered, the false Imperials lingered, and others of their ilk would always flock to the banner of one who promised order and stability. Had they forgotten that the ideals they clung to exist largely due to the careful planning and scheming of a Dark Lord of the Sith? Had the galaxy forgotten that its place was to serve the will of the Dark Side and its champions? Nefaron was far from satisfied with the progress of the Sith, and yet it was this inability to unite that had seen his rise to power. From a lowly sorcerer crawling out from the depths of the Unknown Regions to the butcher of the Tsis'Karr, his rise had been rapid and brutal.

But was that not a sign of the Dark Side's favor?

Questions stacked upon questions. Endless schemes. At the end of the day, Darth Nefaron had two goals that had yet to be met, despite all his efforts and the blood spilled in his name.

The light must be extinguished. Fear must reign in every being's heart.
​

Then, and only then, would the Sith truly have their revenge on the galaxy. The Jedi would be utterly destroyed, their name cursed by the galaxy for failing to stop the great tide of Darkness that was to sweep over every world in the coming years. There would be no more rebellion, no more resistance, for every living being would feel the crushing weight of misery and chains of slavery. None were to be spared this fate, for it was the only way to ensure that darkness ruled eternal.

Nefaron would rule eternal.
​

Oh yes, while he spoke of some great destiny to his Apprentices, told them of their inevitable triumph over him, Darth Nefaron had no intention of slipping into the void while others squandered his great work. Though they tasted his power, Veradun and Eurydice were no different from the thousands in chains working endlessly on Anoat. They would carry on his suffering; they would bring it forth to the trillions of beings who inhabited this galaxy.

This was not just the Sith's revenge. It was his.
​

 

[Irina Jesart]

Tags: Torvald Skadi Lightbane Aerik Lechner

It felt good to clear the air and to at least make a start on building the bridge. Skadi was not going anywhere and knowing what she did now about Prazutis and Gerwald’s history, Irina was grateful that there would at least be someone at his side if she could not be. She managed a small smile when Skadi admitted she would have done the same in her shoes.

When she asked it she and Aerik were ok, Irina nodded. “We are but…” she shifted her feet uncertain about something before continuing. “Skadi…I didn’t tell him what he did.”

She paused gathering her thoughts again before continuing. “When he attacked I realised that that was why he’d been keeping me at arms length…why he’s been keeping both of us at arms length. If he knew he’d not only lost control, but hurt one of us…” she trailed off shaking her head.

“I didn’t lie, at least, I just told him he didn’t want the answer. It’ll come around again, I’ve no doubt. But I’m not ready to see him break under that knowledge. It’s taken me a long time to get him back, I don’t want to lose him again.”

 

[Darth Hydra]

Hydra considered the question carefully.

While he did so Hydra perused the assembled Sith and their allies impassively. Truthfully he was unsure whether he was enjoying himself or not. When Sith congregated in such large numbers, even to celebrate a victory there were usually any number of coy, veiled and barbed comments. Hydra found such interactions tedious.

Surprisingly enough despite his sincere belief in Sith superiority he found their tendency for petty yet potentially deadly disputes exhausting. It was he supposed a natural consequence of seeking ever more power. Even once he had attained galactic control the Sith Emperor Sidious had sought to continually tighten his control, squeezing as much direct power he could on an already subservient galaxy.

A part of Hydra desired a similar level of power on a modest level, a small moon, or planet within The Sith Order, a loyal force of his to command, but he liked to believe he would be a just and fair ruler. For the betterment of society as much himself.

Which was the heart of what being a Sith was to him.

"It is an interesting question, one which I would pose to my students at times. Every Sith's journey is their own path. Their own interpretation of the Sith Code. My interpretation is thus.

Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.

War is the ultimate goal. Peace is for the soft and the weak. Passion is the true path. It is an honest path. If everyone was honest with themselves and had the Strength to do so they would follow their passions.

Through Passion, I gain Strength.

Passion is the key to Strength. Without Passion one lacks the strength to seize what one wills. The dedication that fuels discipline.

Through Strength, I gain Power.

Strength gives you Power. Power to dominate your will on the galaxy. Mold the force, yourself and others into your image.

Through Power, I gain Victory.

Victory is only achievable through Passion, Strength and Power. Each builds upon the last. The ultimate victory is in continually searching for worthy opponents to defeat, until one day you are defeated yourself.

Through Victory my chains are Broken
The Force shall free me

The only true freedom is Victory. When you have conquered your opponent, no one can stop you. That is when you have truly harnessed the Dark Side."


Hydra smiled.

"As for my ambitions with The Sith Order, they are fairly modest for my kind. A planet or perhaps even a small moon, with my own loyal forces to command. I like to believe I would be a fair and just ruler, but then all rulers do, don't they?

To put it simply for myself being a Sith is the ultimate search for self-betterment, for self-achievement. I believe I have advanced as far as I might by hunting individual Jedi, so seek to continually expand my horizons by becoming more involved with my brethren Sith.

It is a delicate path, requires adaptability and flexibility as much as strength. Which is why I elected to accompany you on our latest missions."

Hydra paused and nodded to himself.

"What of yourself why do you serve the Lady Quinn? Would you still serve the Sith if not for her?"

CT-312