Kyyrk
Vylmira's Wrath
Time was of the essence. Though he wished he had more time to mourn the passing of his son, Voph knew that he had no such luxury. His mission today was two-fold, but a single shared objective. In the aftermath of Tanaab, he had given away something dear to him. A Holocron. A dangerous holocron that, through no fault of its own, painted a target on whomever carried it. Voph had begun to lay the ground work to set a meeting. Unfortunately, that meeting happened to be in the heart of Coruscant. With the Imperium claiming dominion, he was walking into hostile territory.
But that wasn't what troubled him.
It was a simple objective. Get in, get the holocron, get out. But factors beyond his control told him not to do that. He was being hunted. The Imperium was not what concerned him, but what lurked on the dark edges of the galaxy. And should it learn that someone else held the Holocron, it would end...well, Voph didn't want to think about that. He knew Prenn had an apartment somewhere in the City, which was easy enough to locate. But he didn't want to meet her there. It was too dangerous. So he began to sow the seeds across the city. One giant coordinated message, both on the airwaves and off. There was a market near by Prenn's apartment. And for days, the market was always being mentioned in subtle ways. Along with a date, and a time. Never in the same message. Voph prayed that she would understand his meaning, and come.
And so he stood in the shadows of a building, concealed through the Force, and aided by his Shadow Armor. His hood was drawn, loose strands of hair falling in front of his face over the blindfold that served as his mantle. It was not the typical one he had worn, however. This one was a simple black cloth. A sign of mourning. His typical mantle had been buried with his son. He needed a new one, but it would be some time before he could devote the time.
Jedi, he could deal with. Empires, he could deal with. But he knew that if he was discovered, it would not end well. He had met Imperator Greyson before, but times changed. And given the man's blind hatred of Sith, he was not sure that a man calling himself Darth Voph would be welcomed with open arms. He served the common interest of the galaxy, but his methods would earn him no friends. Voph's brow furrowed as he spotted movement at the edge of the market. He pulled the Force around him as a cloak, and vanished from sight. It was time to make contact. The final message Prenn had received was far more direct than any he'd sent otherwise. "I need a second chance." He just hoped she would remember that referred to the Holocron...
But that wasn't what troubled him.
It was a simple objective. Get in, get the holocron, get out. But factors beyond his control told him not to do that. He was being hunted. The Imperium was not what concerned him, but what lurked on the dark edges of the galaxy. And should it learn that someone else held the Holocron, it would end...well, Voph didn't want to think about that. He knew Prenn had an apartment somewhere in the City, which was easy enough to locate. But he didn't want to meet her there. It was too dangerous. So he began to sow the seeds across the city. One giant coordinated message, both on the airwaves and off. There was a market near by Prenn's apartment. And for days, the market was always being mentioned in subtle ways. Along with a date, and a time. Never in the same message. Voph prayed that she would understand his meaning, and come.
And so he stood in the shadows of a building, concealed through the Force, and aided by his Shadow Armor. His hood was drawn, loose strands of hair falling in front of his face over the blindfold that served as his mantle. It was not the typical one he had worn, however. This one was a simple black cloth. A sign of mourning. His typical mantle had been buried with his son. He needed a new one, but it would be some time before he could devote the time.
Jedi, he could deal with. Empires, he could deal with. But he knew that if he was discovered, it would not end well. He had met Imperator Greyson before, but times changed. And given the man's blind hatred of Sith, he was not sure that a man calling himself Darth Voph would be welcomed with open arms. He served the common interest of the galaxy, but his methods would earn him no friends. Voph's brow furrowed as he spotted movement at the edge of the market. He pulled the Force around him as a cloak, and vanished from sight. It was time to make contact. The final message Prenn had received was far more direct than any he'd sent otherwise. "I need a second chance." He just hoped she would remember that referred to the Holocron...