"This will be my magnum opus," [Velok, Spencer]

[Dissero]

"I was meaning to discuss something with you," he said as the atmosphere fell away. "For once we're done here, assuming we don't get pegged as inventors of superweapons, tarred with the same brush as Umak Leth and Qwi Xux and Bevel Lemelisk and Nasdra Magrody. Assuming we survive this, my hope is that you and I could work together on a different project. I'm a Blackguard, you see, not a Sith. It's an old heretic cult -- I'm sure you've heard of it. I'm the last Blackguard, as it happens. Our core tenet was always that the true purpose of Force power is to attain understanding of the universe. As a result, we've spent centuries cataloging the secrets of other Force sects. I always suspected there might come a time when the galaxy no longer needed a secret archivist such as myself, but a disseminator of information. A father of intellectual freedom, you might say. And your skill with holocron creation, not to mention your encyclopediac knowledge of the history of the Force, might well make you an ideal...business partner. What are your thoughts, Lord Dissero?"

Mandolorian space.

It passed by the viewport of the cockpit without much fuss and the quiet of their arrival brought about an internal parade of questions and curiosities. What sorts did the old Master keep in his pocket that allowed him travel so easily through Sith-enemy space? Dissero could hardly imagine the Whiphid's life story and where it had taken him; all that he knew of Velok was what the archives and fellow sith and the Master in question had offered him.

Questions are dangerous, not curiosity, words of his former Master, Darth Midian, echoed through his thoughts, you can control what your curiosity finds but an answer is as unpredictable as this beast. Ask me how to kill it and I'll tell you what best pleases me.

The Sith Knight held no reservations about his decision to work alongside Master Velok, the opportunity was yeilding far greater results than he could have imagined. What drove his thoughts was a swelling of questions that could not or would not be freed. A Blackguard ... of course, why had he not seen it before? It made perfect sense; Velok's knowledge knew few limits so far as he could tell, and he'd always chalked it up to a ripened age. A man of many experiences and endless tales, it was no small wonder he had stayed loyal to the Empire as long as he had.

Yet even his loyalty was under question. Had he truly been loyal to the Empire or had he simply used it as a means to continue his search for knowledge? Admittedly it was not far from exactly what Dissero had done. Aside from a deep respect for the late Empress Desmius there had been little loyalty garnered from him. He'd stayed for what possibilities awaited him on the tail of such a powerful entity as the Empire, so it was with few regrets that he took his leave when it seemed those opportunities had burned up.

To what end, then, was this venture and who next would he need pledge loyalty to? As he watched the Whiphid work he began to understand that now, more than ever, patience was prudent.

"Master Velok," he spoke up finally from his seat within the cockpit once Velok finished staging the where, how and what of their next stop. Dissero leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees and fingers steepled at his chin above which a wry smirk stretched on his lips, "let's talk more about this... venture of yours."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Immense stupidity attended any course of action that didn't involve switching ships once they entered Mandalorian space. For one thing, running around Mandalorian space -- the best and closest refuge while fleeing Rudrig -- in an Imperial military shuttle was NOT a reliable way to extend one's life expectancy. A Tempus Ardet bulk freighter swallowed the Veratus into its cargo hold, and labor droids happily removed the entire contents of the shuttle, after which the shuttle was jettisoned and blown up.

They were now on the Tempus Ardet, making good time away from the Mandalorian border with a galaxy's worth of Sith artifacts in the hold. Every fiber of Velok's being desired to leave the cockpit, go down to the hold, and start reading.

"I'm a Blackguard, Dissero. My order has treasured every kind of knowledge for two thousand years. I've been the custodian of their cache for the last two hundred years of the Darkness. I always knew I'd be the one to bring the Blackguard legacy out of the Darkness. I want...to reveal knowledge to the galaxy. You and I can make holocrons, and very very well. I suspect we could name our price."

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer sat tinkering with a small object in her hand; she used the force with the other as she examined the crude shell of the holocron. The girl had only recently developed a taste to create the shells of knowledge. She wasn’t very good, but with practice she could become excellent. Moving her fingers the small crystal inside of the roughly shaped pyramid, she focused hard and soon the pale crystal slipped into the small rings and the pyramid lit up briefly then died. Releasing her hand that held the holocron it floated for a moment and she pushed the force from her and focused on charging the crystal.

The small box glowed for just a moment and then once more died. The holocron fell into hands and she smiled somewhat pleased with herself. It usually took her longer to get the crystal set, but this time it only too her a few hours compared to days. Wrapping the project up in a cloth she set it aside and looked out the small windows. They had been flying for some time and she felt the shift in coordinates a few times. Sighing softly she wondered how much longer she would have to wait to meet with Dissero.

Her traveling companion only spoke a few times to her; mostly she was allowed to meditate which was something she needed. Spencer rested her fingers against her lip as she pondered a moment and hoped she didn’t sound annoying with her question.

“How much longer do we have till we meet with your Master?”

@[member="Velok"] @[member="Lord Dissero"]

 

[Dissero]

"Sell the galaxy's best kept and most closely guarded secrets?"

Dissero had to take himself back a long way to remember how it felt wondering what it was like to know all the secrets he did today. Before the world of the Force was opened to him, before he was given the guidance he needed to start with the simplest of Force Push, he had imagined himself performing Sith Spells and Force miracles. He'd dreamt of staving off hoardes of enemies with his Will alone. Daydreamed of taking over the Empire as the next most powerful Dark Lord. The possibilities in his youth had been endless because of all those secrets yet discovered and unearthed.

"I'd be out of a job," he remarked, itching at his chin before giving a dismissive snort, "what am I saying? I am out of a job."

The Archivist stood from his seat and paced a length of floor, brushing a hand through his hair in an attempt to airate the thoughts in his head.

"I suppose there's something to be said about unraveling the coil upon which the greats of this galaxy perch. Selling their secrets to their enemies is one thing ... but selling everyone's secrets to anyone who could afford it? That's madness. You'd no longer have to be gifted or powerful to learn what the brightest took years to accomplish. The foundations of the Force would rot. The galaxy would become saturated by mediocrity posing as nobility. All that is sacred to our kind would suddenly become meaningless. Empires would topple under the weight of civilians emboldened, empowered."

Dissero stopped before a viewport and took a moment to breath, to consider, muttering something about a second figurative coming of the Gulag Virus.

"It's brilliant," he looked dumbfounded at the idea, "I wish I'd thought of it first."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

"Oh, Dissero, I've got plans upon plans. It's how I spent my death, after Emberli Garrett crushed my throat. As I willed myself to Toola for the body you see today, I whiled away the months in coming up with new arrangements of elements. Consider, if you will, how that spellbook could empower a set of alchemical supernova crystals. Consider the experiments we could muster, over and above the distribution of...information.

"Now, someone would have to take the fall for such grand dreams, and that'll be me -- I have no problems with that. Remain a silent partner as you like, or take a more public role. That's your choice. In the meantime...we have holocrons to make. And I believe it's time for you to read the spellbook."

OOC/ Sorry it's short - just wanted to move stuff along. I've got essays upon essays.

 

[Dissero]

Dissero paused in his pacing long enough to consider and for a smirk to appear on his lips. There was a glint to his eyes of such intensity one might be hard pressed to guess if it were malignant in nature or not. The truth of the matter was really much simpler than alignment - it all boiled down to carnal curiosity and the delight of uncovering the mysteries of the galaxy. The Archivist made no comment on what role he might play, for that was all something he would need to think on. As much as he liked to plan ahead, a Shamalain always worked best in the moment.

The man gave a grunt in reply to Velok's final statement, alluding to neither enthusiasm nor anxiety of the subject. It was more a sound of acceptance and a voluntary leap into what was likely to turn into a very bad night. It was time to read the book.

"We'll need to set a rendez-vous point for Miss Jacobs. I've still my eye on crafting that Phobis Device-" the Knight tapped at his left temple absently, took up his bag from beside his seat and exited the room to make way for the cargo hold and that old Spellbook.



The cargo bay pregnant with the whole of the Empire's jewels, Dissero eyed the contents with a certain sense of security. As he stopped to survey their bounty he became increasingly aware of his fatigue of the Empire and the constant state of flux it had undergone over the last few years. When Empress Desmius tasked him with the care of these most prized of possessions it had been during a rare span of stability. The prospect of maintaining them as they grew under her regime had been, he now recognized, a crapshoot. Not for fault of the late Empress nor by any failure on his part, but simply due to the undeniable nature of the Darkside and the people he once served.

"This was not part of the plan," he muttered to himself, hands closing around the railing of the deck that overlooked the hold. How he thought he had everything figured out. Thought he might have peace and quiet to pursue the mysteries of the galaxy while calling Rudrig home, but that simply would have been too easy. Yet, despite an unsure future, that sense of security remained. For now these things, these invaluable treasures, were assured his Governance without interference from a higher authority. So long as the engines burned hot and crew moral stayed strong things were under control.

Adventure is what it was, and he did so love a good one.

Dissero rapped his hands along the rail as he stood again and moved off along a set of stairs to the base floor. Crates, boxes, bags, carts - the lot was mountainous in stature much like the hoardings of a certain non-canon dwarf race in a certain non-canon mountain of which this particular writer is about ready to piss herself with anticipation of the most recent film installation. Moving on... Though having been in a bit of a mad dash to transfer, check, double check and triple check everything before jettisoning their original ship, he'd managed to bark out enough orders to keep the most relevant items forward. The obsidian container sat off to the side, nestled between a stack of crates containing all manner of otherwise unimportant materials and the inner wall of the hold. It was best to limit exposure and proximity of things to the Spellbook, just in the instance that something should happen to break the seal of the containment spell. Like a Sith Knight Archivist on a mission.

He approached it with purpose now, leaving all prior reservations far behind on Rudrig neatly wrapped in a box now currently on its way to the hands of his Apprentice. The man gestured to the crate and with great mental dexterity unlocked the door and pulled from within the obsidian podium and its charge. The hold instantly fell under the onslaught of the Tome's great power, Dissero could feel it permeate his flesh and sink into his bones, rattling whatever soul might be confined within. He did not flinch from it, not this time, and strode forward into the tide with calm clarity.

The man that had been prepared to die in the face of capture at the hands of the Emperor now fully understood what it meant to accept the consequences of one's desires and actions. He stood without fear of pain, suffering, loss, or death, envisioning in his mind the scene from the Archives. Having been witness to one of the first Sith Masters in likely a century to successfully reads its contents gave him confidence in his own self to do the same. His hand reached forth and fell upon the aged leather cover. What happened next was wholly unexpected.

Nothing.

He was met with no resistance nor arcane threat. Though the thrumming pulse of dark energy continued around and through him, it did not waver nor surge. The sensation was curious to the utmost, but he decided not to think on it. His instincts told him to press on, and press on he did. Pulling at the hard binding, he began to focus his own energies upon the augmentation of his senses, awareness, and memory. It was not so powerful as Master Velok's ability to merely glance presently in order to dissect later, but it would certainly help what information he did glean to remain imprinted. Blue eyes flickered across the ancient symbols contained upon the pages, passing over hand-drawn diagrams and scrawling notes of the historical Sith Lords. Spells, incantations, personal accounts, journal entries dating back what he guessed to be a millennia.

Enraptured, the man's soul alive with the song of every Archivist ever attaining what knowledge they may have sought after for years, he felt himself grow weightless. Before he knew it the world around him simply did not exist. There was nothing but himself and the tome and the store of information provided. Pouring over every last detail he painstakingly turned page after page with nothing more than his mind. Dissero stood there for what felt like hours, mentally powering through the soreness of his body from neglecting to move. All other matters of the physical realm could wait - for now he was feeding his mind.

.....

Should Velok choose to check-in the whiphid would quickly ascertain just exactly what the physical realm had in store. He would not find the Knight standing over the podium, but body crumpled in a heap against the base of it. Flesh pale and cold to the touch, a swelling pool of deep black liquid forming beneath him, oozing from the corners of his mouth and nostrils. He was out cold, unable to be woken so long as his spectral self remained connected to the task. The spellbook sat with a curious shadow hovering over it, the pages seemingly turning themselves.

 

[Dissero]

Mahet had grown peculiarly silent on the hours within the ship. What had initially been a reasonably straight-forward journey had turned into an endless chase after coordinates sent at odd intervals. When finally he received a directive, the Noghri punched it in and set their course for what he hoped would be their last leap through space. It would put them in Mando territory, which was of some concern to him, but this was not a ship that would be recognized by them. For all they new, it was a simple traders vessel en route to the next outpost.

The truth couldn't be any more ironic.

"Within the hour," he returned quietly.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Dissero awoke propped against a crate, shirt saturated by what smelled like blood. His head swam, his body ached, his soul, however, had never felt more fulfilled. More alive. More enlightened.

A cursory glance around the cargo bay told him that Velok had been there. The Sith Tome and its podium had been packed away, back into it's containment grave, and nearby lay a clean set of robes likely procured from his pack. There was a stain of black on the floor that looked as though Velok might've attempted to clean it up, yet the black mar remained. A ghostly reminder of just what sacrifice the young Sith had made in the name of knowledge. Dissero would have to ask the old Master if he knew what had happened; he couldn't remember anything more than standing over that book, absorbing the information contained within.

The man stood and quickly changed out of his current attire for a fresh look then exited the hold to go find the old whiphid. It didn't take long - Velok was sitting in the passenger area, deeply engrossed in meditation. Knowing better than to disturb him, Dissero moved on to the cockpit where he found a return message from Mahet.

The Noghri and the Queen were on their way.

@[member="Spencer Jacobs"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

The ship moved towards its destination and Spencer stared out the window. She was tired of traveling; it felt as if they were constantly flying by each other. Spencer and her escort were in constant chase of Dissero and the Whiphid, of course she wondered why they would have summoned her. Chewing on the tip of her thumb she pondered once more the request for her presence. There was never an easy exchange in the galaxy, nothing ever came without a price and that’s the thought that worried her slightly.

Finally after a few moments to her mind, she moved from her place on the ship. Being escorted she headed towards where Dissero was waiting. Running her hands over the garments she wore she smiled softly and nodded her head towards the man who used to be the keeper of the Sith Archives. As she moved towards him a hand moved to her mouth as she breathed out and then inhaled through her nose. Always a good idea to do a breath check before meeting someone, it seemed that the magic of role-play was strong with her, good breath check. Wiping her hand against her leg she offered it towards Dissero.

“Pleasure to finally meet you face to face, seemed the Force decided to give us a bantha chase, but everyone is together in one piece it seems.”

An awkward smile spread across her face as she tried to keep formalities up, Ashin had taught her diplomacy, but it wasn’t always her strongest suit. Sighing softly, she wanted to get to the point so in her own fashion she quickly asked.

“It’s been driving me insane, but what do you wish for payment for the holocrons?”

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

 

[Dissero]

The Archivist did not deign to reveal his horde to anyone just yet, even if the Queen might not be entirely aware of his and Velok's current situation. Best it remain that way, for now. The less people who knew, the better.

He greeted the Lady, instead, in a sitting area removed far enough from the cargo bay that she need not even pass through it to get there. His appearance was clean and smart, in muted, unassuming colors of beige and browns and greys. His clothing was fitted loosely, hiding the structured physique as it always did. No weapons were visible on his figure, but when he took her hand the grip was not one of a man who spent his days nose-in-book, but one of a man who knew the rough road of travel, battle, and all avenues of adventure. Dissero took her delicate fingers with a firm yet gentle hold and bent to kiss her knuckles.

"M'Lady," the wry smirk that etched across his face as he stood once more, still clutching at her hand, seemed knowing of things that had perhaps escaped her notice, "we have met before, but I understand that someone like me would pale in the presence of Ashin Varanin. Just another face in the crowd." Course he'd had some help from the Subtle Cloak - that had been the entire point. At some point the hood had been lifted, but as he recalled the young Empath had been spent by that time. It was enough now to simply tease her for it.

A short moment of silence while somber blue eyes took the Echani Queen in, marveling at how little time had seemed to change her outwardly. Still quite lovely and, much to his chagrin, still quite a bit at a loss of what to make of the galaxy. Spencer reminded him of his sister, Amorella, in her state of rehearsed propriety. A stance and vocabulary meant to place her above and beyond the reach of others, yet here she stood ensnared by a lowly Archivist who enjoyed what he liked to believe was the rare outburst of her true self.

Dissero wanted to chuckle but held it back, instead tipping a dark brow at her while capping her hand within both of his own, "Your hand in marriage, of course."

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer’s story was simple, she was a young girl who had been picked up and thrown into the whirlwind of politics and dangerous people. Deep down, under all the grooming from Ashin and the advisors on Eshan, the girl was still young and easily excitable. Only Ashin and a few others were able to see under the layers of dignity that she had developed over the years and here Dissero was able to see another true to her heart reaction as he stated that the payment was her hand in marriage. Spencer blinked rapidly as she let the response process in her mind.

She had heard stories of women being passed as payment for items; usually their hand in marriage but it was to bind kingdoms together. She was technically a Queen, so did this mean Dissero was a Prince or a King? A hand played with an alchemized unbreakable ring on her finger. She was already wed to Ashin, but that was a secret. Her face started to change to a deep crimson. Her former pale skin tinged starting at her ears and then slowly the rose crept across her cheeks till she was redder than any red twi’lek.

“Are you a Prince? Or a King?”

The girl stared for a moment as she looked Dissero over once more, he wasn’t bad looking. He was the keeper of all knowledge in the galaxy according to the Sith and he was smart. Spencer nodded her head slightly as she continued to think about her situation, shaking her mind out of the little fantasy she smiled softly through the blush.

“I-I-err I’m married already. I don’t make much for a political wedding then huh, but I mean I – is there anything else I can do?”

Her mind continued to work and if it was capable she became redder as she took a step back and held her hands to her face.

“Not any of that though! Anything besides that stuff….”

Spencer pouted for a moment as her cool demeanor began to unravel.

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

 

[Dissero]

A low, smooth chuckle rumbled from the Archivist - not one to mock her, but simply one of deep amusement.

"As it so happens, I am a Prince," his claim to the Kuatian throne was never very strong, however. The planet was matriarichal and his younger sister Amore had already been publicly named prime heiress. He'd never complained - sitting on a throne was not something the man had ever once desired. This connection was not one easily made, however. The name of Dissero held no such relation to anything remotely Kuatian or royal, he was merely a Lord of the domain of Rudrig.... perhaps not even anymore.

Dissero lifted Spencer's hands to kiss them again, smile broad and blue eyes full of mirth, "alas I've never taken myself for a man of luck as to have such a woman as my bride. Whoever it is that does is truly blessed." The man released the Queen's hands and motioned towards a rounded booth seating area encircling a table for her to sit if she so wished. Likely she'd been doing a lot of sitting while trying to find him and Velok, he surmised, so he wouldn't taken offense if she opted to stand.

"There is something else I will take as payment for the holocron," he'd never been serious about the marriage thing anyways, but it would certainly help to soften the blow of what he did require, "I have it on very good authority that you have some experience with a Phobis Device. I require your full knowledge and memory of that and anything remotely pertaining to it."

From his pocket he produced a handsomely crafted holocron and placed it on the table. It was not the holocron Spencer was looking for, but one meant for his payment, where she would store all those details of that dreadfully dark artifact.

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer’s demeanor changed once more, she raised an eyebrow at the main who requested the dark information. The woman had constant nightmares of the event and of what the device told her – the dread lords were nothing to laugh at. Even after so many years – they still haunted this galaxy. Spencer held her breath for a moment as Dissero pulled out the holocron. Her eyes instantly lit up, the craftsmen’s ship that went with the object was something she envied and admired all the same. Her crude attempts looked horrible compared to the man’s. The woman feeling more confident with the force than with her own two hands opened her palm and the object rose from where it was so carefully placed.

“The information about the Phobis Device is precious, not only to me, but to those that wish to possibly recreates it. I have done my research on the device and its history, I have dreams or visions which ever you feel comfortable calling them – I see them, I feel them, I understand them. The Dread Lords, they were something beyond the Sith, of course nothing like the fools that consider themselves Sith in this generation.”

She paused remembering the names that haunted her mind when she let her guard down. The holocron rested back in front of her and she sighed softly. Nervous, her heart raced and she looked back towards Dissero.

“I’m curious about two things. First, how did you know I had information on the Phobis Device and secondly, for what reason do you want this information? It’s dangerous to have laying around even in a holocron Dissero. I was barely capable of dealing with it the first time around – I don’t know what it would do the second time.”

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

 

[Dissero]

The man folded his hands before him, his own expression falling pensive. This was a serious matter to attend to, as such he'd expected the atmosphere to darken. He remained optimistic despite this.

"My confidante is one I believe you are personally familiar with. He has been a key mentor in my more recent endeavors and an irreplaceable well of knowledge. Much to my dismay, the Phobis Device is an area of sorcery that we both are lacking. It's not the Device itself I'm after, it's the history and the manner in which it works that is the key to unlocking another project I'm currently invested in - Darvannis."

Taking a breath, the man offered a shrug, "My informant is Velok."

@[member="Spencer Jacobs"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Dissero said the magic word. The man and his confidante were two people Spencer knew would value the history and the knowledge over the device itself. Looking down at the holocron, she worried not for the knowledge that would be placed in there, it was for the attempts at getting the knowledge by those who would abuse it. Spencer would rather take the knowledge to the grave, but she knew the only way another Phobis Device woud be countered is if people knew about them. A double edge sword the more she thought, there was no winning this battle. Sighing softly, she smiled.

“Velok seems to find the right people and bring them together. First he sent Ashin to find me, then she sent me to find him and so on. Here, he’s brought us together possibly two of the only people that would never use this in a malicious way unless provoked. The knowledge that I received - the horrors of the Dread Lords…”

Spencer trailed off as she opened her hand and used the force to lift the precious holocron. It was empty and was soon going to receive knowledge of the horrible device that she had encountered. Closing her eyes, she held her breath - she had left Dissero in silence for a moment. Releasing the breath, Spencer continued.

“I still hear them. I hear their whispers and their stories of fear and death. The Dread Lords were known for their merciless killings and rituals. They were the creators of the Device - Fear and Terror; their true nature reside in the device and in their memories. No Sith could ever come to close to what the Dread Lords were.”

Dropping her hand, the Holocron spun slightly and hovered next to her as she turned her attention to Dissero.
“Knowing this do you still seek the knowledge that I’ve kept hidden in the back of my mind, if you do you have to promise me this will never leave your sight. I don’t know what I would do if I knew someone else got ahold of this.”

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

 

[Dissero]

A heavy silence filled the cabin as the woman took the empty holocron into her grasp. Unseen but felt wholly by the Archivist who watched with rapt attention was a shiver of excitement on the air. One that could only be appreciated by someone of perhaps a darker disposition. His gaze settled upon her figure, watching her expression, feeling her every movement, anticipating the moment the knowledge would be his, the man felt a creeping sense of hunger like he'd never felt before.

His own facade remained impassive at her raised concerns. The man remained unmoved, blinking back the knee-jerk reaction to her words that would be a lengthy monologue of all the things he coveted and protected in his horde of knowledge.

That is what he did, after all, and he could not fathom the things, the powers, the skills it took for her to do what she does best. Empathy was not part of the Archivist's skillset, but he didn't need it to see that there was a iota of fear to her words. What if this knowledge fell into the wrong hands?

The man took a long breath and calmly reached into a pocket, "I have, for many years now, taken care of some of the galaxy's greatest vaults of power and knowledge. The items I keep secret and safe are such that if taken into the wrong hands could prove disastrous for countless numbers. My burden is thus: I am the Steward of the darkness, a keeper of the klow. In my lifetime would I never allow those undeserving to take from me that which does not belong to them. If I must, I will take my trinkets to the grave if it meant maintaining their guard. I would die before I see this knowledge stolen, misused."

From the pocket he withdrew his hand, revealing to Spencer the item she had traversed nearly a quarter of the galaxy to claim. It was one of hundreds of important pieces placed under his care - what she wanted with it he couldn't say, but he trusted that she would tender the same care to it as he would. Appreciate it, use it proper. That was all he could ask for.

"You have my word, Spencer, a solemn blood oath, that the knowledge you give me today will never leave my care." He would add it to the chain at his neck, where the holocron he created as the key to his own knowledge constantly sat warm against his skin.

[member="Spencer Jacobs"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

https://soundcloud.com/jennyni200/audiomachine-ice-of-phoenix

​

Hazel eyes watched him as he spoke, promising her that the power she was going to store in the holocron would never leave him. She tried to find fault in his words, find some sort of lie buried beneath the perfect articulation and gorgeous face. Nothing surfaced, which caused worry, yet a peaceful ease inside of her. The holocron by design was perfect, she could only dream of perfection such as this. Dissero was someone who dedicated his entire life to this – she wondered if he was also a part of the secret group Velok spoke about. The Blackguard, seekers and protectors of knowledge – dark sided users who hide away on Mustafar searching for the Sith holocron. Questions would be answered in due time, she needed to focus on filling the holocron given to her with the memories of the Phobis Device.

Spencer hesitated, something she rarely did. She trusted [member="Dissero"] because Velok trusted Dissero. Velok was the only other person besides Ashin that Spencer trusted in the galaxy. Because of this, she had to trust Dissero. Once she opened her mind and began the process of draining it then shoving the material into the holocron there was no going back and no do overs. The holocron she held would become something that could destroy the galaxy if put into the wrong hands, because of that she needed to make sure that she did retain some of the information – in case she needed to figure out a way to stop it. She trusted Dissero, because she trusted Velok, but she wouldn’t put it past Velok to end the galaxy once his game of chess had grown boring or he had won.

“Alright then, now that I’ve worked up a bit of courage I’ll get on with it.” She opened the holocron and the emptiness of it seemed welcoming. She would finally be free of nightmares, she would be free from people wanting the information, and she would be able to find balance again. The horrors that she constantly lived through every moment she closed her eyes tipped her aura, skimming the surface of the dark side. Never fully accepting it, she was able to put up a decent fight. Yet as time went on she was continuously growing weaker and weaker to it. To fall to the dark side completely, her existence would mean nothing. Pressing her fingers to her temple, hazel eyes forced shut drawing upon the dark memories of the Phobis Device. First they were simple images, death of family members, and the cries of children being hurried to the pits of Chaos. Slowly, her fingers pulled from her temple and a small orb of a red hue drifted clinging to her fingers. Spencer twisted her wrist and grabbed a hold of the ball and forced it to be absorbed by the holocron. “Watching your loved ones die isn’t an image I’m going to miss, sadly that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

The process continued, the images becoming darker and each orb growing larger as she shoved it into the holocron’s memory. Time went on and every so often her knees would buckle and the young woman would nearly collapse. The images that she had shoved so deep into her subconscious were beginning to surface and she struggled against them not wanting to show any weakness to the Sith in front of her. Spencer paused and hovered over the holocron, she wondered if Dissero could hear the whispers of the twisted Dark Lords that created the device. Spencer heard them loud and clear, clearer now that she had removed them from her head and they were not in a proper device.

Kill him.

Crush him.

Destroy. Destroy. DESTROY.


HAAHA. Feel us, feel our influence.

Taste. Darkness. Lust. Pain. Suffering.

THE DARKSIDE CONSUMES ALL​

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Closing her eyes she pulled away and shut the holocron. She had to take a moment to gather herself. “Their voices, despite not having the full memories of what the device showed me…I still have their voices. They’re the voices that drive the sane to insanity. They are the dark side, they feed the hate and cause suffering.” She licked her lips searching for some sort of wetness to relieve her of her cotton mouth, she wanted to throw up, and everything around her began to spin. Closing her eyes, she saw the final image. A plant that looked like Coruscant spun quietly, nothing was happening and nothing seemed out of place. Spencer found herself along the edge of a bridge alone, no one there helping pilot the vessel. It struck her odd, but for some reason she felt okay with it. Moments passed and nothing seemed to change, nothing except the stars around the planet. They began to clutter, twist and vibrate in the space around them. Lighting cracked through the dark space and soon a funnel formed at the epicenter of the lightning storm. Planets that she could recognize easily began to draw closer to Coruscant, trying to stop it only made the storm larger as it began to devour everything that drew closer. Panic set in and looking down her skin began to glow and burn.

In the reality with Dissero, there would be a faint glow running along her skin while her arms wrapped around her frame fighting whatever was going on in her subconscious.


As she watched the planets and the other stars devoured by the worm hole, she continued to burn feeling her own power fuel whatever the worm hole was. That was her doing, she was creation the vacuum that would consume the galaxy as they knew it. In a final moment of desperation, she gave into feeling and as she felt her own existence join the living Force, the rest of the galaxy was consumed. The vision ended, with her own being ceasing to exist and a deep crimson orb floated between her and Dissero. Opening her eyes, the faint glow disappeared and they were left with the final vision. “Destruction” She said nothing more as she put the vision into the holocron. Closing the binds that locked away what she knew, she paused and sighed softly. “Never open that. You don’t want to see the end.” Her voice trailed, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Darkness took over and Spencer collapsed to the ground.