Private To Sculpt Divinity

[Darth Strosius]

It wasn't often that any within the Order of Wonosa sent invitations, rarely even to those within their own ranks. Orders and deployments comprised the meaning and circumstances surrounding most travel and interaction within their miniscule and scattered spheres of influence. As such when not one but two invitations were sent to Korriban requesting a meeting with the Disciple of Faith Revna and the Lord Seer of Korriban A'Mia it was quite the unusual occurrence. What may have struck the receivers even more strange was that the polite yet curt message came not from Darth Strosius, but rather the apparently aptly named Councilor of Korriban.

The invitations would call them to a set of coordinates where the Cacophony laid in wait for their arrival, a Sventove Carrier which received the invited guests with a fairly warm welcome in spite of the remote location it sat in. A nebula riddled with asteroids, difficult to navigate and even more difficult to pierce with scanners and sensors. Yet nestled within a clearing between the throngs of rocks and space dust the Cacophony hung there all the same. Thankfully the carrier itself was more than happy to direct them into one of its empty hangars and away from any danger from their surroundings.

A small greeting party had assembled within the designated hangar amidst the regular activity of the crew, a group of Lorekeepers headed by the Councilor himself. Despite the glances that the hangar crew threw towards their guests, they didn't offer much in the way of interaction of attention. There weren't any guards to speak of present either. Another oddity given the clandestine nature of the Cacophony's positioning and the ship's purpose in general. Not to mention the presence of two of the Order of Wonosa's higher ranking individuals as well.

Revna Marr / Madrona A’Mia

 

[Revna Marr]

To say that Revna was surprised to receive an invitation from her own Order, would be an understatement. Especially when the invitation was sent to her while she was staying on Korriban, attending to other matters and affairs that now needed her attention. Ever since her rescue and being reunited with her Master, she had split her time between serving Him where He needed her to, and her duties on the ancient Sith world. It was a tricky and time consuming affair, but she relished it. It felt good to be a part of something greater, something of importance, to her. And she was free now to do anything she wished.

Well, as free as her duties would allow her to be.

Revna opened the invitation within the safety and security of the garden that Caedes had built for her, knowing full well that no one and nothing would be privy to the information contained therein. It was a brief, polite, but curt invitation…sent by none other than the Councilor of Korriban.

Revna’s silvery-black brows drew down in a curious frown. Why would the Council of Bogan be sending her an invite to meet at a specific set of coordinates? It must have been important to warrant such a thing, and so Revna finished up what was left of her matters and delegated the rest, before adorning herself in something more appropriate for meeting with a Council member: a flowing set of Sith robes, adorned tastefully in red and gold stitchings and ur-Kittat scrawl. The colors of the King, as well as her House. It was the only outward sign that she wore that connected her to the throne of Korriban, as well as to a Sith noble house. And unless someone knew any of this, the weight of her station was likely to be overlooked. Just as she preferred; she was not one to flaunt her status unless it was necessary, nor did she advertise her rank within Korriban’s royal halls.

Upon reaching the shipyards of Vardin, Revna was pleasantly surprised to find the Lord Seer, A’Mia, there as well. And even more surprised to learn that she had received an invitation by the Councilor of Korriban too. Something was certainly afoot - especially considering that both Revna and A’Mia had connections to the Prophet of Bogan, Darth Strosius.

Revna almost inquired to her Father what the summons was about…but something told her that maybe this was something He wasn’t aware of. Otherwise, He would have been the one to summon her and the Lord Seer. She wasn’t exactly thrilled at doing something that He didn’t know about…but she went anyway. There was likely a very good reason why Darth Strosius hadn’t been the one to call for her, or A’Mia.

Their travels brought them to a rather clandestine location, weaving in between astroids that were scattered throughout a nebula, an astronomical phenomena that concealed a Sventove carrier ship known as the Cacophony. Revna and A’Mia were met by a small greeting party once they had disembarked from their ship, a group of individuals that Revna recognized immediately as some of her Father’s Lorekeepers - led by none other than the Councilor of Korriban himself.

Some of the nearby crew members noticed their arrival, but didn’t interact with them - setting about their tasks with order and efficiency. Revna strode forward with a slight limp that she did her best to hide, side by side with the Neti woman that Revna had come to call one of her own as well. And it seemed that Darth Strosius, in His own mysterious and strange way, had taken a liking to the Neti as well. Though that was probably due to the fact that both of them had similar interests and seemed to get along well enough to tolerate each other’s presence.

Revna drew to a halt before the small entourage, and inclined her head in respect towards them, noting the lack of security anywhere nearby. Not that it was truly needed; she was in no danger here, not amongst her own. And she was well aware of the Neti’s capabilities, should she be threatened, not to mention that the Lorekeepers and the Councilor himself were dangerous and powerful in their own right. Revna was unconcerned, though she maintained a level of ambient alertness.

“Councilor,” she said in polite greeting, skipping the fluffy formalities as she cast a glance towards A’Mia. “We received the invitations. To what do we owe this visit? Will the Prophet be joining us...?”

Darth Strosius // Madrona A’Mia ​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

There was something riding on the winds that morning. An inkling of something important to come, the kind of thing that most others would not or could not take note of. A'Mia though had a sense for that which would come to pass, an eye and ear for the subtle movements and signs in the Weave which indicated happenings of note. So the woman began her morning by fastidiously going through the motions of donning the stunning new armor that Darth Caedes had crafted for himself and those closest to him.

When the invitation came, the neti was therefore devoid of surprise and made her way to the shipyards at a leisurely pace. There, she reacted with true pleasure at the sight of Revna Marr — offering her hand in a warm gesture, the woman asked airily "You as well? I wonder what this is all about."

Though her prescience was indeed notable, even A'Mia could be surprised. One day, she aimed to surpass such mundanity but for now she moved within the Weave as spider reading the vibrations and tremors of that great web. These days, she'd even begun spinning fate in directions she saw fit. Her endeavors on Brosi were taking off, recent studies within Kor'ethyr laboratories had yielded promising results, and overall, the woman could feel that she'd entered a season of Spring in her life. Abundance and growth abound, the calling of ambition and collaboration promised new roots and a strong foundation for new power within her reach.

Upon their arrival at the clandestine locale, A'Mia subtly offered a steadying arm to her companion. It was a matter of principle, to lend strength where it was needed and in so doing, ensuring the overall wellbeing of her Grove. For her part, the neti followed Revna's lead— wide and curious eyes scoured every detail they landed upon, including the faces of crew members. Scrutiny which surely felt uncomfortable for some amongst them.

Though thoroughly armored, the woman had her helm retracted so her features were clear to see. The armor itself was so beautifu, form fitting, and flowing, that it offered her a regal but not overstated air. Though not yet ascended to rank of knight, nor in possession of the title "Darth", A'Mia carried herself with all the bearing of such. Silently, looming from the height of two and a half meters, the Lord Seer of Korriban awaited answer to her companion's question.

Darth Strosius​

 

[Darth Strosius]

"Lady Disciple, Lord Seer." The Councilor greeted the pair with a deep bow of his head, the Lorekeepers at his side offering a salute before performing the same gesture. "I'm afraid not, the Prophet is handling matters in Wild Space currently. Some governor tried to leak Sanguine Defense product blueprints and He thought it necessary to handle the leak personally." The rather clinical tone of Korriban betrayed a hint of grim amusement. He didn't need to specify what sort of handling that Darth Strosius would enact, but all could guess that it would be a rather messy affair.

"Do forgive the sudden invitation, but I thought it would be best to get you both up to speed as soon as possible. Please, follow me and I shall explain." The Lorekeepers left the Councilor as he gestured towards the door at the end of the hangar before moving after them towards it. "As you may or may not know, I am unaware what details the Prophet may have given you in regards to our latest venture, this vessel much like the rest of its kind is dedicated to Project Inductii. Loaded with cloning chambers and training facilities with which to rear a new generation of Wonosan soldiers and crew."

With the Lorekeepers still leading the way somewhat ahead, the door opened to reveal a wider hallway beyond it. One that seemed to be a hub for elevators and cargo lifts. "Nine genetic samples were taken and categorized into templates to serve as the basis for these clones. This ship, however is unique in its purpose. The clones aboard this ship aren't created using any of the nine templates that the rest of Project Inductii makes use of." Beyond the hall of lifts there laid another door which when opened revealed a glass corridor of sorts.

Visible outside these windows wasn't the vacuum of space or the nebula and asteroids around the vessel, instead it was cloning pods. Dozens upon dozens arranged in rows with various stages of growth for the clones within, most of them were entirely empty. The developing clones were unusual, many were misshapen and sporting various odd features such as bony wings or claw-like fingers. Their skintones ranged from ashen gray to pale, pallid tones. Some of them didn't even seem ro posses eyes of any note. "This vessel is dedicated to the cloning of the Prophet of Bogan, Darth Strosius."

Revna Marr / Madrona A’Mia

 

[Revna Marr]

​

A small smile curled at the edges of Revna’s lips upon hearing that her Father was away dealing with a minor inconvenience somewhere else, and she had a pretty good idea as to how He was handling the situation. But that meant that He would not be present for whatever she and A’Mia had been brought to this vessel for, and it only heightened her curiosity further.

The Councilor of Korriban immediately set about explaining the reasoning behind the invitation, and fiery eyes traced the Lorekeepers as they moved ahead of the three of them, and the Councilor gestured towards a door at the end of the hangar. Revna followed along with the Councilor, listening intently as he divulged some information about a project that she knew her Master had been invested in: Project Inductii, as it was called. It was another thing she had become aware of at some point after her recovery time, as she was brought up to speed with the current happenings of the Order of Wonosa, and plans and ambitions of Darth Strosius.

Once through the door, Revna was greeted by another larger hallway, a hub for cargo lifts and elevators to access the rest of the ship. She took in everything, noting the places of each item or person in the vicinity, before casting her gaze back to the Councilor, listening as he shared information about the nine genetics samples taken to develop various clones to serve in various areas within the Order - but then he revealed that the ship they were aboard was not like the rest of the cloning ships.

This particular vessel was special.

The Lorekeepers and the Councilor brought both her and Lady A’Mia towards a series of windows that gave a view of clone pods beyond. Dozens of them were arranged in neat, orderly rows and from her vantage point she could see various stages of clone development within…but that was where things really appeared to be different.

Some of these clones were unique and unusual. Some were misshapen, missing eyes or other body parts, while some had bony wing appendages or clawed hands. All of them were pale, either ash gray or ghostly white, in skin tone. Revna’s eyes narrowed as her mind stirred with ideas of what this could be - and only a heartbeat later her silent curious thoughts were answered.

This ship was dedicated to the cloning of their Prophet. Or rather, the attempted cloning efforts.

Revna was very still as she gazed upon the various cloning pods, her gaze narrowing even further. Her Master had indicated to her that He had been looking to clone Himself, mentioning to her that it was being done in an attempt to restore Him back to full function.

But what she was seeing here…was beyond that. Something else was in the works, clearly, and no wonder why this particular ship’s location was kept so hidden away. She already had several powerful Sith in mind who would love nothing more than to get their hands on this, twist it to their own designs, or outright destroy everything. There was a strange ripple of sudden protectiveness that echoed through her Force aura; anything that had to do with her Father, be it furthering His ambitions, advancing His goals, or simply aiding Him in a task like this...was something she was keen to guard and protect.

"I had been made aware that He was looking into designing a clone to restore Himself but I sense that this is something...different." She cast a gaze towards A’Mia, eager to see and hear her ally’s reaction to such a sight. “I sense that this is right in your field of work, Lord Seer. What do you make of this?”

Darth Strosius // Madrona A’Mia
​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Though imperceptible to those less familiar with the rare neti species, Revna Marr might note the way A'Mia faintly wilted and ruffled at the news that Darth Strosius would be absent. Clearly, she'd anticipated speaking with the man again given the nature of the summons. Those minuscule changes to the shapeshifter's vine-like hair and general stance were gone just as soon as they'd appeared and the Lord Seer followed the Councilor and Revna deeper into the ship.

Visible outside these windows wasn't the vacuum of space or the nebula and asteroids around the vessel, instead it was cloning pods. Dozens upon dozens arranged in rows with various stages of growth for the clones within, most of them were entirely empty. The developing clones were unusual, many were misshapen and sporting various odd features such as bony wings or claw-like fingers. Their skintones ranged from ashen gray to pale, pallid tones. Some of them didn't even seem ro posses eyes of any note. "This vessel is dedicated to the cloning of the Prophet of Bogan, Darth Strosius."

The neti straightened, stilled very abruptly, then slowly leaned to press her face very near the window she gazed through the window nearest her. She was enraptured by the sight and gave almost no indication that she was still listening to what was being said. Those wide, unusual eyes of hers drank in every detail. Only when Revna spoke her name, did the woman stir again.

"I had been made aware that He was looking into designing a clone to restore Himself but I sense that this is something...different." She cast a gaze towards A’Mia, eager to see and hear her ally’s reaction to such a sight. “I sense that this is right in your field of work, Lord Seer. What do you make of this?”

“You sense correctly…” the woman murmured absently, gaze still trained on the rows of clones.

A’Mia brought forth a sleek datapad that looked dainty in comparison to her rather looming form. One spidering long fingered hand began tap-tapping out a cascade of initial notes. A long pause between that initial acknowledgment elapsed before the intense scientist seemed to recognize that the moment called for some manners.

”Forgive me, Revna. Yes— I’ve been entrusted with some of this work, but this,” she gave a sweeping gesture, “Is more elaborate than I have had facilities to replicate currently. At least while also preserving total privacy.”

Again her eyes were drawn back to the project and leaned as if seeking to press herself through the glass.

”I’d like to see your readouts, and it would be most beneficial if I can examine each variation. So far, my progress has been stalled at the stage of accounting for mutation within organism that remains cohesive to the whole being— not to mention concerns I have about sentience transfer in the case that we are seeking total replacement of vessel…”

Her words trailed off but it was clear the arboreal woman had many more questions and curiosities she sought to satiate.

 

[Darth Strosius]

The Councilor allowed the pair a moment of silence to take in the news and sights around them, stopping even as the Lorekeepers continued on down the corridor. He gave a slow glance out at the various pods and their unnatural occupants although given his mask his expression towards them was unreadable. "Something far different yes." He finally spoke after seeing that the Lord Seer seemed a bit occupied with noting down her observations. "We are still working towards restoring the Prophet back to full function here, but we have another mission to pursue in the meantime."

Seeing an opportunity to turn A'Mia's attention away from the views beyond the glass, the Councilor straightened up and nodded at her request. "Of course, we can provide all the details and results that you have need of. Follow me." He turned and resumed the path forward in a slightly more brisk pace than before. "We too had many issues with mutation. Our initial attempts to craft any clones quickly turned into potential methods of stabilizing the Prophet's template into something usable."

A rare note of frustration slipped into the Councilor's tone as he sighed and shook his head at the thought. "The alchemical enhancements have stained each and every sample to varying degrees even despite our best efforts to isolate and remove them, and there's simply no easy method of working around the Sangnir aspect. It's an aggressive thing and remarkably resilient. Getting the baseline template for the Prophet was almost an impossible task. Until we found the one solution that worked."

The door opened for the trio to reveal a laboratory of sorts where the Lorekeepers had set themselves to work at various stations and desks scattered around the circular room. The center was occupied by a mechanism stretching down from the ceiling, almost certainly one meant to house the same cloning pods that lied just beyond the walls. Another display off to the side which had some more arcane instruments as well as scientific ones surrounding it was a glass container of ashes, seemingly innocuous at first glance and yet dreadfully potent with the telltale presence of Darth Strosius.

Across from it on the other side of the room sat another container, a vat which seemed to be preserving some odd organic implant which seemed to be half-melded into a portion of an upper spinal column. "The Prophet's samples have proven too difficult to work on by themselves, too difficult to properly separate and study. So we thought of a new angle to approach. Dilution." The Councilor gestured to the implant. "We knew it was possible from this device."

One of the Lorekeepers passed the Councilor a datapad which he in turn offered to the Lord Seer as he continued. "Project Vicar was the Prophet's first attempt at spreading his will in a more physical sense. Using some bits of his blood and tissue as a basis for an organic implant, he was able to influence the mind of any who was implanted with them. See through their eyes, turn them against their oldest allies and friends, and take whatever knowledge he needed from them. He meant to use these as a tool to destroy the criminal syndicates of the galaxy from within, but we encountered an unusual problem."

He crossed his arms behind his back as he regarded the implant with what almost looked like some semblance of pride. Naturally the Councilor of Korriban had been key in that project as well as this one, and it showed. "One of the subjects we implanted not only wound up being a latent Force Sensitive, but also exceptionally genetically compatible with the Prophet. Due to this the implant grew exponentially, making the connection between her and the Prophet grow stronger to the point where she could peer into His mind just as easily as she could into His. Unfortunately, this resulted in her falling into a coma and shortly after we removed her implant He had her...disposed of. Perhaps as a precaution in case she was ever captured. But we knew what was possible and we did have some idea on what genetic markers were compatible with His."

Revna Marr / Madrona A’Mia

 

[Revna Marr]

Revna remained silent, simply observing and listening with very sharp ears as A’Mia addressed the Councilor, recording data and information upon a sleek datapad that she seemed to produce from the folds of the robes and armor she wore. A certain phrase that the Lord Seer said caught Revna’s attention and for a moment her gaze became distant: Sentience transfer? A new vessel for her Father?

For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, her heart lurched within her chest. Not in any negative sort of way, but with the understanding of just how life changing that would be.

Perhaps…it was the thing that stood between Him and victory. She knew that, according to Him anyway, Darth Strosius wasn’t as gifted with the Force as other Sith were. It was something that had vexed Him for a long time. Was it possible…that a new vessel could be created, one with a higher affinity with the Force? She could only imagine what sort of sights she might bear witness to if the Sith Lord had access to more power than He did currently. It was something that she yearned for, for Him.

She hated seeing him so wrapped up in His own weaknesses.

Revna turned her fiery eyes towards the Councilor of Korriban, listening intently to him as he bid them both to follow him, guiding them away from the windows and the sights beyond that had captured A’Mia’s interest. He continued to speak as he led them onward, and she noted the hint of frustration in his voice as he explained how they had dealt with too many issues with mutations. This, strangely, did not come as a surprise to her: she knew that the Prophet of Bogan had experimented heavily upon Himself with Sithspawning and alchemical techniques, and on top of that He was a Highblood Sangnir. His very makeup, on a molecular level, had been shifted and changed when He turned into what He was now.

Her thoughts were echoed a moment later by the Councilor as he divulged further to both her and A’Mia. However, Revna’s interest was further piqued when he mentioned that they had found a single solution that seemed to work, despite all the issues they had faced.

Another door opened to draw them inward to a laboratory of sorts; she watched as the Lorekeepers took their seats and began to set about their work, before she allowed her gaze to travel over the rest of the circular chamber. In the center was a sort of mechanism that stretched down from the ceiling, and beyond that were displays of arcane and scientific instruments that surrounded a glass container containing something Revna instantly recognized: the ashes of the Lord of Wonosa.

Once upon a time, she had possessed her own little vial of His ashes - her most precious possession. But they had been returned to their rightful owner, after her rescue some time prior to this meeting.

The Disciple of Faith turned her attention back towards the Councilor as he took a datapad and began to share information in regards to Project Vicar with both her and the Neti. She listened intently, absorbing everything and storing it away in her mind. To hear that her Father had tried to spread His will to various vessels did somewhat surprise her; her eyes narrowed the more she heard, not in suspicion but in thought…dark and dangerous thoughts. These…subjects…were meant to be tools that Darth Strosius could utilize - individuals bound to Him, through whose eyes He could see, their mind and thoughts His and not theirs. How…interesting, she mused.

After Revna had learned that her Father was a Sangnir, she had done her own research on the creature that He was; she was always hungry for knowledge, for information, for that was power. Resources that discussed the mysterious vampiric creatures were very rare and hard to come by…but she had found her ways. She had learned some things about the Sangnir…one of which was the fact that they could bind others to themselves, called Thralls.

His blood was potent; she wondered if this facet had been taken into consideration when diving into this Project and using His blood and tissues to forge an implant by which He could control these living tools.

The half-Vahla woman pulled herself from her thoughts and returned her attention to the Councilor as he revealed that they had encountered an unusual problem. One of the subjects had apparently been Force sensitive…and on top of that, had been genetically compatible with Alisteri. Now that captured her full interest.

Out of the trillions of souls that inhabited the galaxy, someone had been found, and by accident from the sounds of it, that was genetically similar to Darth Strosius? It seemed that this had been both a blessing and curse, and unfortunately it sounded like that particular subject had been removed from the equation. Revna didn’t need to guess what he meant when said she was “disposed of”.

Thankfully, however, some of the compatible genetic markers had been noted. Otherwise getting rid of that particular individual would have been a foolish thing to do. Maybe it still was. No doubt, Lady A’Mia would have plenty to say about all of that. Revna had thoughts of her own, some of them dark…and those ones she kept to herself for the time being. They were thoughts she wanted to speak to her Father about, alone.

Like the fact that He had forced His will upon others, chained them to Himself, made them tools that He could use and throw away at will. That sounded awfully close to enslavement to her. She wanted to hear Darth Strosius's reasonings, or perhaps His excuses, for that.

“I am curious…you said that His blood and tissues were used to make these implants. Were these…organic bits of Him separated from His Sangnir condition, on a molecular level?" Revna said to the Councilor. "I ask because while I was still studying under Him some time ago, He revealed to me what He was. I did my own research to better understand and well, Sangnir blood is potent. Just a tiny portion of it is all that is needed in order to create what are called ‘Thralls’: individuals that are bound to the Sangnir, wholly obedient and loyal, and under the influence of their…master, so to speak. Hearing you explain how these implants worked and how these…subjects functioned…reminded me of that.”

Revna inhaled deeply and pursed her lips for a moment. “Unfortunate about the one subject that was compatible with Him, however. Was there…no other alternative to her disposal? A memory wipe? At least you still have genetic markers to work with. A silver lining I suppose.”

Darth Strosius // Madrona A’Mia ​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Despite her lack of pupils, it was beyond doubt where A'Mia's eyes focused the moment that the implant device was referenced. The intensity of her focus was palpable, the air around her suddenly smelled of ozone and the notes she struck out upon her own datapad became a torrent of tap taps at even more unnatural speeds than before.

Not often one to understand the emotional state of others sharing her vicinity, the neti easily picked out the sense of pride this Councilor held regarding the current topic. A'Mia seemed to hang on every word, despite the general passivity of her expression. That demeanor shifted however when there was mention of a woman, of her incredible compatibility.

All at once the neti was animated by what could only be described as alarm. Perhaps anger? Regardless, the shift in her bearing was stark and sudden. Her entire body stretched a bit, growing in height and looming more than ever, long vine-like hair whipping about her head like agitated snakes writhing with displeasure.

However, Revna spoke first and the Lord Seer held comment.

Revna inhaled deeply and pursed her lips for a moment. “Unfortunate about the one subject that was compatible with Him, however. Was there…no other alternative to her disposal? A memory wipe? At least you still have genetic markers to work with. A silver lining I suppose.”

Finally the arboreal woman couldn’t contain herself and she practically growled, in a voice made of creaking wood and grinding stones, her obvious dismay.

”A ’silver lining’ is quite a strange way to describe the absolutely wasted case study that was the specimen we speak of…”

A’Mia seemed to compose herself somewhat, her form shrinking and the rest of her features smoothing over once more. The next words that left her were much more composed and in the tone she most often used, high and feminine and singsong.

”I will have words with that Prophet about his sloppy clinical work,” she promised, “Go on then, answer Lady Revna Marr and reach the point that you are building to, Councilor.”

It might have been interpreted as rude, but truly the neti had no patience for pleasantries or even manners if they stood in the way of expedient understanding of the data before her.

 

[Darth Strosius]

"If it were possible to separate anything from His Sangnir nature, then we wouldn't have the challenges with cloning Him that we have endured thus far." The Councilor's tone wasn't at all dismissive, rather it was simply resolved. Disappointed even, although not lacking his clinical wording. "Yes, the concept of these 'Thralls' were what had inspired this project initially. I truly have no idea why the Prophet didn't make any such Thralls before Project Vicar, it seems like quite the useful tool for maintaining influence."

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, crossing his hands over his chest as though disapproving of the Prophet's apparent lack of thought regarding enthrallment. Most other Sith would leap at the chance to have a similar sort of control over their followers so cheaply and inherently. "Project Vicar was somewhat more unique as given His extensive modifications, we had to make careful and minor alterations to the subjects in order for them to become Thralls at all. Or pseudo-Thralls as it were, hence the implants. They weren't even totally subservient to His will, He had to convince them to do His bidding. I recommended making more extensive implants to correct that failing but He insisted that it was unnecessary."

At the mention of the aforementioned subject and her disposal, a topic which drew what almost seemed like vehemence from the Lord Seer, the Councilor sighed and nodded dejectedly. "The Prophet Himself disposed of our prime subject. Councilor Kaas and myself were speaking of optimal containment measures for her when a technician suddenly informed us that she had been removed from her bed in the medical ward. Before we even knew who had taken her the Prophet had already informed us that she had been cremated and her ashes expelled into space. 'A threat to our security,' He called her." He finally turned away from the display and crossed his arms behind his back.

"Thankfully, we had an alternative." He paused and glanced back at the pair. "This is where I must ask that you excuse my boldness, but I must ask that you both keep what I am about to tell you from all others outside of this ship. The Prophet included." He let his words hang in the air for a moment before he continued, making a slow stride towards the end of the room across from the entrance. "According to the official reports, we have managed to overcome His unstable template by diluting it with a synthetic genetic solution. This isn't entirely false, we did entertain that prospect and we do have some samples of such a solution, but it quickly became apparent that on a mass-scale this was simply unfeasible to produce."

When the Councilor arrived before the wall at the back of the room he placed his hand on a seemingly innocuous wall panel, one which lit up with a scan before blinking green. The section of the wall in front of him suddenly receded with a hiss, revealing another room to the laboratory. One that lit up as he stepped inside, illuminating some additional monitors and screens that were covered by graphs and readouts of the medical sort. At the center of the room was another holding vat, this one containing a right hand. It was pale, severed at the wrist by a clean diagonal wound that was cauterized. A lightsaber wound.

"This is the truth of the dilution, the perfect match for the Prophet genetically, the key to the clones growing as we speak." The Councilor stopped beside the vat and turned back to the pair. "This is all that remains of Alisteri Haxim. Lost during a duel with a Jedi and recovered by agents working under Darth Ophidia, preserved for some unknown purpose and scheme."

Revna Marr / Madrona A’Mia

 

[Revna Marr]

Revna resisted the urge to smirk or chuckle at the Councilor’s observation and frustration with her Master’s seeming refusal to utilize the creation of Thralls, as the Councilor himself saw the inherit benefit from such individuals, but Revna felt that she knew exactly the reason behind why the Sangnir Sith Lord did not create nor bind such individuals to Himself. From her understanding, to create a Thrall was to enslave them to your will; knowing her Father, He would deny, reject, or resist any method that would appear as slavery - even if it hindered Him.

“Well, from my limited understanding, creating a Thrall could be seen as a form of enslavement…and we all know how the Prophet feels about that. So it does not surprise me that He has not made use of such a tool, as it were, nor does it surprise me that He rejected any recommendations to alter the implants to ‘correct’ a so-called failing.” She responded back when the moment presented itself.

To the topic the disposal of the one subject, both Revna and the Councilor could feel the ire that came off of Lady A’Mia, and she practically growled a very displeased response to Revna’s comments about that. "A ’silver lining’ is quite a strange way to describe the absolutely wasted case study that was the specimen we speak of…”

Revna turned fire-hued eyes to the Lord Seer; she’d never known A’Mia to be prickly with anything she had ever said before, so there was some mild surprise in Revna’s expression that flickered away as if it had never been there. “Oh I agree with you, A’Mia. It was a waste, and clearly having the individual alive and whole would be best, but that is not the case. And the best alternative they have is genetic samples. So yes, it is a silver lining as they could have had nothing at all.” Revna responded in a polite but somewhat firm tone to her compatriot, even as the Neti seemed to compose herself somewhat, though the smaller Sith woman couldn’t hide the smirk when A’Mia mentioned how she would be having “words” with the Prophet over the matter. Revna could only imagine what that would look like and how well her Father would take a scolding from a ‘denizen’ from Korriban.

A’Mia then bid the Councilor to continue and get to the point, her words blunt and straight forward on the matter and Revna listened as the man explained further what exactly had transpired, and how the subject had been disposed of. The fact that Darth Strosius had gone behind everyone’s backs and destroyed the subject made the young Vahla woman frown. He surely had His reasons, though she would have loved to hear what they were in that moment. Did it occur to Him that perhaps by destroying the subject that was so genetically close to Him, that He could have single handedly set their Project back? Or ruined it completely? Something about the situation didn’t seem right, didn’t sit right with Revna. Her Father could be rash at times, bold and foolish, but something about this gave her a red flag in her mind. Why had He destroyed her? He had called her a ‘threat to security’...but how and why was she labeled as such? It was a mystery that Revna felt she would probably never get an answer for, unfortunately.

Her attention was drawn back to the Councilor when he stated that they had an alternative, a back up, if you will. Then he told them both to keep what he was about to tell them a secret…even from Darth Strosius Himself. Now that grabbed all of Revna’s attention, and her focus settled solely upon the man, eager to hear what he had to say. She followed him towards the back wall of the chamber, listening as he divulged further before placing a hand upon the wall and activating a hidden section that opened before them with a hiss to reveal yet another room and laboratory…this one clearly meant to be kept as secret as possible.

The chamber lit up as the man stepped forward and Revna was right behind him, still very eager to hear what he had to say. The chamber was filled with all sorts of medical paraphernalia and charts and graphs and readouts for various things, but it was the holding vat within the room that instantly caught the young woman’s eye. Within it lay a hand, a right hand to be more specific, clearly severed from its host by a lightsaber. She kept her eyes on the pale body part as the truth was finally revealed to both her and the Lord Seer, and a sharp intake of breath was the only sound that Revna made at that moment as an utterly shocked expression filled her face.

That was Alisteri’s hand…the only thing left of Him that wasn’t twisted by alchemy or Sithspawning or perhaps even by his Sangnir condition. It had been preserved, for some unknown reason, and now it was in the hands of the Order of Wonosa - in the hands of those that were seeking to make her Father whole.

Revna whipped around to stare at A’Mia, her expression still one of shock, before she looked back at the Councilor of Korriban. “And this hand was severed from Him before He became a Sangnir, correct??” she asked a tad sharply, her growing astonishment and budding excitement beginning to seep into her words and voice. “Because if that is the case then…this is huge. Life changing!”

She almost choked as a sudden lump formed in her throat, preventing her from speaking any further. Her Father could possibly have a new restart on life…free from everything that had chained Him down for so long. Was it possible? Could it actually be done? Revna remained quiet, composing herself as best she could, as she waited for more information to be revealed to both her and A’Mia.

Darth Strosius // Madrona A’Mia ​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Frustration still animated the arboreal woman, but it simmered down gradually as conversation continued. Only interjecting once when it was confirmed that Alisteri himself had done away with the anomalous test subject.

"Fool of a Sangnir…"

The words rumbled and rustled then faded like stones tumbling away down a mountain.

Her tune changed dramatically though when talk of secrecy "even from the Prophet" was requested. A'Mia loved secrets, proprietary information, personal practices and formulas safeguarded jealously, all so they could someday be acquired and cherished as something better than currency.

The woman was not often good about having her own secrets per se, as she so often wished to share whatever it was she was working on or had recently discovered. The secrets of others though? Now that was thrilling, and the woman carefully spun threads around each jewel, gem, or trinket of information and kept them guarded. Tucked away and organized on a proverbial web she spun, like specimens lovingly cared for and examined when their contents might be useful to her and her alone.

"This is the truth of the dilution, the perfect match for the Prophet genetically, the key to the clones growing as we speak." The Councilor stopped beside the vat and turned back to the pair. "This is all that remains of Alisteri Haxim. Lost during a duel with a Jedi and recovered by agents working under Darth Ophidia, preserved for some unknown purpose and scheme."

Revna Marr was clearly just as astonished as she was, turning to stare at her in shock while A'Mia leaned to loom over the vat— pressing her face very near, as if it might tell her its secrets just by looking at it. Absently, A'Mia reached out to take Revna's hand in hers, an unusually affectionate gesture for the often cold and alien neti.

"This is indeed life-changing…" the woman almost sang under her breath, thoughts clearly racing.

With her free hand, she pointed at the Councilor and raised her voice enough for the sharp, inquisitive tone to land upon his ears with some sense of authority.

"I'm not in the habit of keeping secrets from the Prophet, though you know of course that I've been trusted with some on his behalf— given the nature of my summons and this discussion. Convince me why this is to be kept from him."

One reason was obvious, the emotional nature in which Darth Strosius had dealt with the test subject fresh on their minds. However, she wished to hear this man’s motivations spoken plainly. She gestured with the hand that'd just pointed, sweeping it out toward the lab and back to the vat.

"And while we are being so frank with one another, you must know that I now intend to set up a workstation here. This is the breakthrough— all my successes, the opportunity for growth and restructuring Alisteri's form to better suit him. This mission to truly heal those grievous wounds and make of his death a boon more than it has been a hindrance! This is what I have needed, I sense it."

Her large blue-green eyes were glassy with fervor and she seemed to have forgotten that she held Revna's hand, her grip having become iron in that moment of scientific obsession and breakthrough.

 

[Darth Strosius]

A rather unimpressed yet agreeing grunt would serve as the Councilor's response to Revna's succinct and accurate thoughts on thralldom. Of course he too was aware of the Prophet's aversion to such things, His insistence and principles, but evidently the Councilor must have had far fewer scruples in such matters. Efficiency was his main priority and when they were meant to serve then die anyway what did it matter how they were made to serve? Yet thankfully the Neti's seething frustration served as the perfect distraction from what might have been an otherwise awkward exchange regarding the thrall topic.

And of course the reveal of the severed hand wiped away any lingering notions of the previous conversation at all. As the pair examined the remains of Alisteri Haxim, the Councilor stepped off to the side to tap on a small console embedded into the wall. "Correct. I suspect this loss was one of the inciting reasons for His Sangnir transformation in the first place." A screen flickered to life above the console, briefly flashing the Tsis'Kaar Ouroboros before cutting to what appeared to be a street in some semi-urban environment. The footage was grainy, the items of focus somewhat distant from where the camera itself was positioned, but the two figures fighting in the street could still be seen clearly.

A Jedi and a Sith clashing blades in a furious yet fairly unremarkable duel, or so it was until the Sith's lightsaber wielding hand was suddenly cut off during the battle. The stamped information in the corner of the footage revealed the location to be somewhere on Jedha roughly thirty eight years ago. "One of His first losses, during His first few months within the ranks of the Tenth Sith Empire." The Councilor dismissed the footage with another press of a button and turned back to regard Revna and A'Mia, meeting the pointed finger with a raising of his head.

"Convince-" He scoffed, as though the reason was obvious. Whatever remark he might have been about to return to the Neti paused however when she declared that she would establish a workstation of her own aboard the vessel. The Councilor sucked a breath in through what sounded like clenched teeth before idly smoothing out his robes and nodding solemnly. "Yes you are quite right, this is indeed the key to curing the Prophet. I shall...inform the Lorekeepers to arrange a space for you later."

He straightened up and clasped his hands together, looking at the vat and seemingly about to form his reasoning for the secrecy before pausing once more. "Actually, how about I let you both see firsthand why this is a matter of utmost secrecy hm?" Without waiting for a response he turned back to the console and began typing in something, the screen soon blooming back to life once again with another brief shot of the Tsis'Kaar Ouroboros before showing another recording.

This one was stamped to be on some station, the name redacted, yet the date would be about eighteen years ago. The footage showed a dark room, clearly a laboratory of sorts littered with various bits of machinery and some towering computer terminals that lined the rear wall. The center being occupied by a rather similar looking vat to the one in the room with them now, the hand visible in its transparent walls. The door to the room suddenly opened, allow light to enter into the darkened room.

The barrel of a blaster peeked into the doorway, sweeping over the room before the soldier wielding it stepped past the threshold and into frame themselves. After another moment of silent peering, checking corners and more cautious steps away from the doorway, the soldier lowered their weapon. :"Clear.": They stepped aside as two more individuals stepped into the room, the first being a figure with a head bearing a crown of subtle yet wicked horns and adorned with a rebreather over his mouth.

The second figure bore an all too familiar mask yet lacking in any ornate robes in favor of some more practical attire. :"Ah, so this is where they hid the archive.": The younger Darth Strosius noted as He scanned the room, the horned figure moving to the terminal without delay. :"Indeed, one moment and I shall begin the download.": The younger Councilor spoke over his shoulder as he worked with the console and furious set about slicing into the terminal itself.

Meanwhile Darth Strosius would take a few idle steps around the laboratory, glancing at the various stations and machinery until He finally stood before the vat at the center of the room. He paused, back towards the camera yet His movements were still clearly seen. He leaned forward as though to inspect the hand within before taking a reflexive step back, His right hand twitching and clenching into a fist. :"It can't be...": His mutter was completely unheard, or simply ignored, by the young Councilor yet the trooper with them did glance between the masked man and the vat in what must have been confusion.

:"And there we are! I have access.": The Councilor in the footage paused. :"Hm. Strange. My lord, it...it would appear that the data relates to-": :"Me.": The camera shook as Darth Strosius's hissed remark seemed to herald some coming outburst, the trooper stepping back and the Councilor wheeling around to try and discern the cause for the sudden venom. The younger Sith Lord visibly seethed, gloved hands crackling with lightning as they clenched and unclenched and He reared back as though to smash the vat to pieces.

Yet no such strike came. He simmered, the lightning fading from His fingertips as His breathing leveled out. :"Erase it all. And burn what's left.": The younger Councilor seemed to choke at that, quickly moving to the masked man's side. :"L-Lord Strosius surely you jest, we just reclaimed this station! We can't simply erase what we've just accomplished! Whatever the reason for this...upset of yours I plead that you overlook it, we must understand what Darth Ophid-":

In a flash of movement so quick that the camera barely registered it, the gloved hand of the younger Darth Strosius wrapped its fingers around the throat of the younger Councilor and lifted him up in the same motion. The trooper stumbled back, dropping their weapon in shock at the sight. :"OPHIDIA IS DEAD!": His fury shook the camera once more, a crack forming on the vat in spite of it being untouched. :"Whatever foul plans she had died with her! I want every bit of data erased and I want that damn thing destroyed!":

He threw the Councilor against the base of the vat, shoulders quivering with breaths and a barely contained rage. :"I want this station and everything on it blasted to dust posthaste. Do I make myself clear Kadra?": The Councilor rubbed at his throat, taking a few moments to catch his breath before nodding. :"Y-Yes Lord Inquisitor. My apologies. I will see it done, my lord.": Seemingly satisfied, Darth Strosius stepped back. He looked at the crumpled mess of the Councilor, then spared a glance to the frightened trooper, then back at the vat.

He took another breath and stumbled back before finding His footing and swiftly marching out of the room, leaving the trooper to rush to the Councilor's side to tend to him as the footage fizzled out into grainy static. The Councilor shut off the recording with another press and idly touched his throat as though feeling the incident once more. "It took two weeks for the bruise He left to heal." He noted with a neutral, measured voice. One of clerical precision, without any hint of resentment or grief. "Do you see now why I ask for your silence in this matter?"

Revna Marr / Madrona A’Mia

 

[Revna Marr]

Revna was still too stunned by what she was seeing to truly hear the words of her companions, for the moment anyway. Her mind was stuck on the idea, the concept, that her Father could be given a whole new lease on life if an entire body could be cloned from this one limb. It had all of His genetic material, it would be Him - but whole and complete, and not the broken mess that He was now.

But she didn’t want to get her hopes up too quickly; there was too much to be done, and so many things could go wrong.

Revna blinked when she felt a hand slip into her own, and she glanced down to see A’Mia’s hand wrapped around her own as the Neti agree that this discovery, this revelation, was life changing. Revna’s eyes trailed up to meet the Neti’s blue-green gaze, and it was impossible to hide the oh so fragile hope that swam in her fiery orbs.

A’Mia inquired of the Councilor as to the reason why such a thing was being kept from Darth Strosius, and Revna found herself to be curious about that as well. Why would something like this be kept a secret from her Father? There had to be a very good reason for that, one she hoped the Councilor of Korriban would unveil to both her and the Lord Seer.

The Disciple of Faith remained quiet, still too shocked to speak, as A’Mia told those with her that this was the breakthrough she had been looking for in her own mission to help the Lord of Wonosa renew and heal Himself. She made it clear that she would be setting up a workstation aboard the ship, to have direct access to such genetic material to further aid her work.

The Councilor stepped to one side to tap on a console of sorts embedded into the wall, telling them both that he suspected the loss of limb to be the reason why Darth Strosius turned to the Sangnir in the first place. Of course, it was a partial truth - Revna had heard the story from the Sith Lord’s mouth Himself some time ago, when He had opened up and shared the truth about what He was, along with recalling some of His more painful memories with a certain woman that He had once loved.

Her attention was drawn to a screen, and a rather grainy recording that unveiled a brief but violent duel between a Jedi and what she realized was a much younger Alisteri - the time stamp indicating that this incident had occurred a whopping 38 years prior. It was so strange to see Him like this…a recording of the young man He was, before He was Turned. She kept her eyes glued to the screen, wincing at the loss of the limb. She was no stranger to a loss in a fight as well; but to lose a limb as well? She couldn’t imagine the pain of the humiliation on top of the physical pain He must have endured.

To A’Mia’s comment about the Councilor convincing her that such knowledge about the severed hand should be kept from Darth Strosius, the man simply decided to show them another video as a form of explanation. The next holorecording that appeared seemed to take place around eighteen years ago, and Revna mentally traced her own history to know where she was exactly when this next portion of her Father’s story was taking place. She had been living with her Mistress at the time, still a slave.

Silently, Revna watched the recording, her eyes tracking every movement and her ears listening to every word. As the video progressed, a cold chill draped itself over her as her curiosity turned to shock as she watched the man she had come to trust completely, have such a violent fit of rage at the sight of His severed limb that He threw around one of His own men. That man being the same Councilor that stood not far from her and A’Mia, even now. Revna couldn’t actually recall a time nor a place where she’d seen Darth Strosius react so harshly towards one of His own like this, over something that certainly didn’t warrant such aggression, at least not in her mind.

By the time the video ended, Revna found herself to be deeply disturbed by what she had seen. She tried to wave it off, telling herself that this was Alisteri years ago and He wasn’t the same anymore…but she still felt that cold needle of discomfort piercing through her heart. Clearly, her Father had anger issues…what Sith didn’t? But still…it was hard to watch.

And it made it worse when the Councilor, Kadra, as she learned was his name, said that it took the bruise that Alisteri left behind two weeks to go away. The Councilor was lucky his neck wasn’t outright snapped from the strength her Father displayed there.

Revna suddenly turned and stepped away from the two of them, giving herself some space to breathe. She didn’t want either of them to see the pale and disturbed expression on her face. But now she understood all too well why the Councilor of Korriban urged secrecy about the whole matter and the severed hand.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine just how enraged the Sith Lord would be if He discovered the truth that His orders had been disobeyed and the limb kept intact after all this time. She didn’t want to be roped into that mess, and yet now she was privy to that secret, that knowledge. If the truth reached His attention, then she would no doubt be one of those that faced His fury for her part to play in all of this.

After a few moments, she turned back to her companions and inhaled deeply to settle her rattled nerves. “...I can see why you’ve asked us to keep that a secret from Him…” she murmured darkly. “Darth Strosius will not be pleased in the slightest, if He discovers His orders were disobeyed and His hand still exists.” A pause, a breath, then she continued: “I won’t be breathing a single word about this to Him…as I’d rather not face His wrath on the matter. However…I really want to know why He wanted His hand destroyed that badly. Where was it being hidden? What does Darth Ophidia have to do with it? Did He think or believe she did something to it or tampered with it at all? Apologies if these questions are stupid, I'm just trying to understand better on what the feth was going through His mind, to make Him so violent towards His own.”

Darth Strosius // Madrona A’Mia
​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Expecting some pushback or frustration at her question and demand, A'Mia was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly the Councilor moved forward with discussion, planning, and mostly importantly the divulging of additional details.

When the footage began to roll, the neti was enraptured— her keen, fell eyes taking in every little detail. She did of course know that Alisteri was not to be trusted with emotional regulation regarding certain key topics. What was not clear to her was the totality of his discomfort regarding this topic.

She drank the footage in like a starving woman might devour a meal, her eidetic memory storing and cataloging every little detail for later review. All while she was none the wiser to Revna's growing unease.

Piece by piece, A'Mia was solving the mystery of that man— Wonosa's Prophet. Bit by bit she learned more about what a broken man he was, what a marvelous and potentially limitless creature.

Lost in thought for a long while after Kadra stopped speaking, carefully turning over key information in her minds eye as Revna Marr collected herself, A'Mia only fully seemed to return to the moment when her raven haired companion began to speak.

Turning to regard her, A'Mia's cold and calculating gaze never softened, but there was a growing awareness within her that this was emotional for Revna too. And not just in the sense of ecstasy at scientific discovery. This was complicated for the woman.

"Your loyalty could never be questioned."

A'Mia murmured the words very quietly but with a certainty earned through an intimate understanding of Revna's heart and mind. They'd mingled their consciousnesses after all— there could be zero doubt as to the immensity of the little Sith's care for Darth Strosius .

"No, his displeasure he brings upon himself by acting thusly."

The woman gestured to the display as she turned, calm and dispassionate— like the Councilor, she was determined to remain solution oriented.

"Your points are well made, I will of course oblige in secrecy. What of her questions then? All that you can tell us about this hand, his seemingly disproportionate anger, and whatever breakthroughs you've had since obtaining the limb would be most helpful."

Suspicion whirled in the back of her mind, memories of the pain and regret she'd tasted and glimpsed in the short time Alisteri agreed to share a mental landscape with her. What was the truth of that despair? Did it begin and end with Ophidia? Perhaps it was a more grievous and festering wound than that. A'Mia also recalled the way his bearing changed in her laboratory, when they were alone and he, unmasked. From fearsome warrior and infamous Prophet, to a man laid utterly bare— his wounds shared, she assumed, in the desperate hope that the neti's confidence in her own science and sorcery would indeed bear fruit.

Time would answer all, she was sure, and more data was certainly needed.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Councilor Kadra watched the Disciple of Faith seem to reel from the footage, allowing himself a small nod at the sight. It was without a doubt jarring to witness for one so close to the Prophet but it was the simplest and most effective method that he could think of to make his point. Hiding anything from one such as Darth Strosius was not only less than ideal it wasn't exactly the easiest feat to begin with, especially when it was happening right underneath His mask as it were.

But it was Kadra's duty to uphold such things which the Prophet would so easily discard and ruin, His hand was just one such example. The Neti would perhaps understand that better than Revna would, at least before seeing the footage, but context was important even if she did already know some of His undesirable habits and proclivities. She had been the one to ask the pertinent question of why this information had to be kept hidden after all. Now they would both have their answers in full, a fact which seemed to bring him some manner of satisfaction in his chosen course of actions.

Their agreements to keep the hand's existence silent from the Prophet was naturally followed by ever more questions and unfortunately these were ones that the Councilor didn't have the answers to. Kadra had served under Darth Strosius for decades now yet their interactions and conversations hardly ever bordered on what might be considered personal. They were both Sith, both wary of one another's intentions and ambitions even after years spent working side by side. Perhaps, given the nature of their present focus, He was well within His right to suspect the Councilor to some degree.

"I...must admit that I was somewhat hoping you yourself could shed more insight on the specifics of His hatred in that regard, Lady Revna." He offered a slight shrug, perhaps the most unrefined and informal gesture that he had done thus far. "I can give you my opinion on the matter but only the Prophet Himself could tell you for certain of course. As for the hand itself, that I can enlighten you on with relative confidence." The Councilor stepped away from the console and nodded towards the vat with the item of interest within once more.

"You see as it turned out, Darth Ophidia perished shortly after inducting Alisteri Haxim into the Sith Empire. Her life claimed on Bastion during the war. He didn't learn of this until much much later, but without His master He was free to do as He pleased essentially. In order to ensure that their mistress's attention hadn't gone unwarranted, her agents kept close eyes on her apprentice from the shadows. His every move and battle was watched. Catalogued. Studied." Kadra looked back at the pair then, turning towards them with a nod towards the console.

"I'm not certain why they retrieved His lost hand other than to simply have it. In case, when Darth Ophidia returned from the grave, she wished to make use of it in some form or fashion. Or perhaps to use to replace Him if He were to perish amidst the war before her return. These agents would go on to become some of the foundational members of the Tsis'Kaar years later when the she did eventually return of course, which was how we eventually discovered the station ourselves. It was in their records, a simple archival outpost hidden in the Tingel Arm. A refuge for their prying eyes away from everyone else's. It had survived the war that claimed the Tenth Empire, but it didn't survive Darth Ophidia's final demise." The Councilor allowed a mirthless chuckle to escape him at that but he quickly continued.

"From what we can tell neither they nor Darth Ophidia herself ever made use of the hand for any purpose or project of note. The potential was always there of course, the Tsis'Kaar did so enjoy keeping things in reserve after all, but it was simply kept in storage. They certainly never studied it as we have at least, or if they did they never recorded any such data. We've had to analyze and take samples from it ourselves." Surprisingly another shrug left his shoulders then. "As for the harsh reaction of the Prophet...well here is where I must caution that I can only provide conjecture."

Kadra seemed to almost be waiting for Revna or A'Mia to add some input of their own for a few moments, pausing and seemingly expectantly looking towards them before sighing and glancing down at his folded hands. "For as long as I have known Darth Strosius, I have known Him to be a man of loss. When we first met He was simply Alisteri, an Acolyte such as I on some backwater battlefield. I had been tasked with securing data stores from enemy capture and He was meant to be part of a counter attack to buy time for evacuation. But that wasn't where I found Him."

As though replaying the memory in his mind as he spoke, little gestures aided in punctuating his words. "I saw him...standing there. In front of the makeshift triage tent, all we had on that front were medics who could soothe the pain of the dying and tend to the minor wounds of the survivors. Real medical staff were few and far between. I thought it was strange to see a Sith just...looking at the cots. Watching the soldiers writhe and succumb in their final moments. After they died he went in and closed the eyes of those who had died with them open, placed their hands into more peaceful positions on their chests. He arranged them to be as presentable as they'd be at their funerals, but He knew just as I did that they would be shoved into a shallow grave and buried without fanfare. That was simple the nature of war at the time."

The Councilor hummed at the recollection, straightening back up once more. "Perhaps seeing His hand reminded Him of those losses. Of His own weakness and failures as well as those of the Empire that He served. Shame and regret would no doubt be potent fuels for such a fire as the one which He had in that moment. To see a remnant of Himself at His lowest after so many years and besting His master, I can imagine that it would ignite quite the rage indeed. But of course, I cannot be certain completely."

Revna Marr / Madrona A’Mia

 

[Revna Marr]

Revna was silent for a moment when the Councilor of Korriban admitted that he had hoped she could be the one to bring enlightenment to the reason behind why her Father would have such a deep seated hatred that would push Him to be so aggressive towards His own. All she could do was shake her head slightly, for she wasn’t so sure in the moment herself. Maybe if she had time to think and consider everything, she could figure out the why - but in that very moment she was still too shocked to truly form thoughts.

The situation was a bit of a mystery to her, really.

Lady A’Mia’s reassurances that Revna’s loyalty towards her Master could never be questioned, settled over her like a blanket of sorts and helped ease a tiny portion of the tension that had filled her from viewing the recording.

The Councilor, though he couldn’t answer some of Revna’s questions, indicated that he could shed light on her other questions, along with Lady A’Mia’s inquiries. Revna took a deep breath to calm her disturbed nerves and clear her mind, and listened closely to what all he had to share with both her and the Neti. Of course, his statements only made her turn inward again as she became more and more thoughtful. Revna hadn’t met or known Darth Ophidia, and almost all of her knowledge about the late Pale Assassin had been delivered either from her cousin Malum or from her Master, who had made it no small secret that He absolutely hated the woman and relished in the fact that He helped strike her down personally.

Why had her agents kept Alisteri’s hand, if they hadn’t planned to do anything with it? Or had not seemingly tampered with it? Could it be that it was simply something held in reserve, something kept to clone Darth Strosius, had he fallen? Did His Master see something that He couldn’t see in Himself, something that would have pushed her to do such a thing? Ophidia didn’t seem like the kind of Sith Lord who would have batted an eye at the demise of one of her apprentices. The Sith way was often about weeding out the weak and empowering the strong; if Alisteri had fallen, then Revna wasn’t so sure that Ophidia would have gone to the lengths needed to bring him back. Unless, again, she saw something in the man that He hadn’t, or still didn’t, see in Himself.

Kadra’s next words, about the harsh reaction of Darth Strosius, pulled Revna from the recesses of her swirling mind. She listened intently once more as the other Sith shared his own personal understanding of the Sith Lord. He recounted his first encounters with the Lord of Wonosa - back when He’d still been an Acolyte. Revna went still and quiet when the Councilor shared how he’d seen the younger Alisteri standing over the cots of the wounded and dying, closing the eyes of those who had passed and even moving their arms over their chest to make them more presentable. It was a snapshot, a window, into the soul of the man who had later become her Master and then her Father. A far more gentle nature, a soul of care, wrapped in the black shroud of rage and hatred that fueled most Sith.

“I think…that Alisteri would have to be the one to share the truth on that matter.” Revna finally stated once Kadra had finished sharing his memories with the two women, her voice soft and reflective, somber even. “All we can do is guess or speculate. I know…that He is haunted by His past; it is entirely possible that this limb is a reminder of that time in His life that He would like nothing more than to release - but that He won’t allow Himself to. He lives in the past…to the point that it clouds His mind at times, and His judgements. I think too that this hand is a reminder that there are others still alive who He believes and feels need to pay for what they’ve done. A reminder of their failure…and His own supposed failure at not bringing them to justice.” She finished, then shrugged. “Who really knows, but the man Himself?”

The young woman turned once more to gaze upon the severed hand of her Father - a part of Him that had been disconnected for years now. It represented both hope and the chance of renewal for her Master - but also the pain of the past that He refused to let go of. It was a delicate situation. No doubt, when the truth became clear - He would be furious - but she had hope that He would see the silver lining in all of it in the end.

“But, to the topic at hand…as the Lord Seer asked earlier - what discoveries have been made thus far, now that His hand is in the possession of the Wonosans?” ​

Darth Strosius // Madrona A’Mia
​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Conversation flowed freely between Kadra and Revna. Though A'Mia absorbed their words in full, her gaze was now distant. It would figure that the most challenging variable for her to take into account. Wounds of the physical or even spiritual realm were far easier for the Seer to grasp— emotional damage however remained largely conceptual. A reminder of why she'd become so fixated in this project to begin with.

Passion.

One of the greatest tools of the Sith. One that A'Mia chased after like a three-dimensional creature claws and grasps at a tesseract.

She could empathize with a distaste for the waste of it all. Corpses, unmade men and women that once served a purpose, who'd merely molder in shallow graves. That wasn't the totality of it though. No, A'Mia knew enough to recognize what Kadra described was known as moral injury.

“All we can do is guess or speculate. I know…that He is haunted by His past; it is entirely possible that this limb is a reminder of that time in His life that He would like nothing more than to release - but that He won’t allow Himself to. He lives in the past…to the point that it clouds His mind at times, and His judgements. I think too that this hand is a reminder that there are others still alive who He believes and feels need to pay for what they’ve done. A reminder of their failure…and His own supposed failure at not bringing them to justice.” She finished, then shrugged. “Who really knows, but the man Himself?”

"If he wishes to grow beyond what he was, Alisteri must be prepared to banish some of those proverbial ghosts…"

Her cryptic murmur was the first she'd moved since last she spoke, her musing form statuesque and surreal in comparison to her more humanoid counterparts.

Even as Revna thought to ask follow up questions about new discoveries, the neti brought forth her datapad, opened the ever growing file on Darth Strosius and started a new document. Crouching down in an elegant, flowing motion, the woman sat with her mask-like face pressed close to the encased limb.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Revna's response wasn't too surprising really, Kadra knew more than most just how evasive the Prophet could be about Himself, but there was a slight sag in his shoulders all the same. One that was recovered from rather quickly though. The Councilor knew the fondness that Darth Strosius held for His Disciple of Faith yet it seemed as though some masks were never dropped, even around family. Unsurprising of course, yet still disappointing. The Prophet so rarely provided clarity.

A'Mia's muttered remark didn't escape the notice of the Councilor, his gaze lingering on her for a long moment as though contemplating something before shifting back to regard Revna. "The hand itself and its potential in this matter is perhaps the most useful discovery of all, truthfully." He turned to look back at the vat in the center of the room. "We have discovered plenty regarding Darth Strosius before His modifications of course. Minor details such as allergies and the like, but naturally unraveling His genetics was a necessity for cloning Him. That is where we did find something...unusual."

The Councilor glanced back to the Neti and gestured to the datapad that she was currently engaged with, seemingly unbothered by her lack of focus otherwise or her sitting position. "Your datapad has full access to the Inductii Manifest archive, including the information on the Prophet Himself which isn't available elsewhere outside this vessel if you'd like the specifics. As we learned ourselves when extracting and examining His tissue for the cloning process, it turns out that He does possess a relatively high percentage of Sith ancestry."

Kadra let the words hang in the air a moment before he continued. "Eight percent in fact. Given His origins as...well Outer Rim slave stock, this is very unusually high indeed. Practically speaking it does give us some...interesting avenues of potential however. There is power in the blood of the Ancient Sith. A greater level of Force Sensitivity that can be granted so long as one knows how to manipulate the proper genes, to succeed where nature has stifled. Not a single clone of the Prophet will be lacking in the blessings of the Force, I can assure you." That particular issue had already been solved many times over.

Now though came to the even more difficult portion of the discussion, where the revelations eventually inevitably lead. The Councilor straightened his form somewhat and allowed himself a few moments to pick his next words carefully. "The Prophet's restored form, with your aid of course Madam Seer, will be far more potent and powerful than His existing one ever could have been. We can perfect it to peak efficiency and Force Sensitivity." In spite of his grand assertions though, his tone was decidedly grim.

"However, I feel as though it isn't beyond my station to urge...consideration and caution in doing so." Kadra was tense, clearly expecting some immediate backlash even as he continued. "The last time that Darth Strosius swelled Himself with strength, absorbing the reservoir cultivated beneath Formos's Cathedral, He thought Himself not just equal to the greatest powers of the Sith Order but far beyond them. He did not enter the Kaggath with Lord Malum for an equal battle, He went to strike down Empyrean himself and use the Kaggath as the excuse to draw him out."

For perhaps the first time true emotion spilled into his words, frustration and resentment boiling underneath a layer of genuine concern. "He was proven incorrect, of course, because His body couldn't handle that level of power even if He did possess it. But now? If He knew of our discoveries, if He knew what we could do, the strength that His new form could possess, what do you imagine He will do when He has it?"

Revna Marr / Madrona A’Mia