Well Of Souls

[Connor Harrison]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYtSd5Dokkk&list=PLTtRKW4gzI6n40F1pXGJGBKpe6niQY6SM&index=5​

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The emptiness of space had been the home for Connor Harrison the past few months.

Or, rather, the confines of his old ship floating in said emptiness.

The cosmos was his security blanket, and he drifted around the dark void alerting nothing and nobody to his whereabouts. And why would he? He was, in all extent, a ghost.

From his years as a Silver Jedi, cut by his exile, to the tentative steps within the First Order, cut by his branding as a war criminal and the Sith Sorceress Xiangu breaking the last of his spirit, he existed only as a memory to few and a legend to others.

Faces from his past had all but vanished, and faces he thought would form his future had faded into nothing. The Jedi and the Sith were two parts of a never-ending cycle. The First Order, the Empire, the Mandalorians, all found there little niche within the cycle. There would be no end, and no matter how one side tried to end the other, it would never be. Connor had come to think more logically than he had in months in the recent weeks.

He spent much of his time reading media reports on all invasions and acts of hostility from both sides, and took note of places and names and positions of power. A cycle. It was something Connor had been part of within the Silver Jedi, and so he would be part of it again.

But, this time, he would forge the best of both worlds. He would gain the most by being the balance between the two.

Ryloth held the most significance for him of all the planets. Mostly personal reasons, but reasons nobody needed to know about. It was also the planet where one Sith Lord resided - [member="Darth Metus"] - who led the Confederacy Of Independant Systems. It was no secret the Confederacy had allies on the Dark and Light side of the Force, but perhaps they were in a stronger position for it.

During his time in self-exile in the stars, Connor had began to see that his quest for vengeance had run cold. The desire to take all from [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] and his wife [member="Coci Heavenshield"] had gone, surprisingly. What would he achieve once he struck a killing blow? Where would he find himself? There would be an absolute, and an end. There would be no balance. It was time to bring balance back to the Force and to his destiny. The Heavenshields would soon look into the eyes of their former brother once more. Through this blind rage, he had also lost touch with [member="Kyra Sol"] who would have given him everything, and all he gave was an absolute. Again, it was without balance. And he paid the price.

The Sith Empire he had laid his eyes on was motivated by a means to and end; an absolute. Butchers, war-mongers and warriors looking to feel worthwhile. They wanted to conquer, to destroy and to prove a point. After that? Nothing. They would wither and die as the One Sith had done before and the cycle would continue when new blood took over. Connor was beyond that. His vision was greater, and his knowledge about the darkness would be a worthwhile weapon to guarantee his place in power once more.

Now, however, it was time to sow the seeds of his return, and Ryloth was that place to start.

The mighty Sinners Well was home to this Darth Metus and who knew what else. It was the best place to start.

"I seek council with Darth Metus at once. My arrival is not expected."

The message was short and to the point. Connor of the Silvers Jedi would be known to Metus, and probably the dark path he had touched upon following his exile. Connor had brought down his ship outside the large palace, wrapped his black cowl around his head to navigate the dunes and walked towards the estate. Part of him was eager to see the new key players in the galaxy, and also how far his name had travelled over the years and what it had even become. With his charcoal grey robes, crimson medallion around his neck, scarred face and cybernetic arm, this was not Connor Harrison, Silver Jedi Master.

This was simply Connor Harrison. How his destiny would play out remained to be seen.

[member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Srina Talon]

There was an audible hum in the air as the Force Field that surrounded Sinner’s Well was brought down by the security droid in the Command Center. Ryloth, even in twilight, was filled with dry heat, and the screeching sound of several Catra'diamtr flying and hunting in the area. Srina Talon, dressed wholly in white, made her way through the fortified halls of her Master’s fortress with a complement of MagnaGuard moving like mechanical watchdogs behind her. They had not been expecting any guests but nevertheless, a red band remained wrapped neatly about her wrist with a stone of onyx glimmering under firelight. As always, she wore two rings, neither all that impressive on the outside...But that was exactly the point. “Do not attack unless given the order.”, Srina instructed quietly, ever efficient.

The MagnaGuard did not respond. They knew their place and had their orders. They would perform as expected. White-Gold hair flowed down her back in moonlit waves, her pale skin nearly translucent, while gray eyes jumped out of her face with an eerie sense of perception. She knew of things she could not know, through Force Sight, and the treatment of the Ichor after the battle for Tatooine. In this, her senses were trapped in a haze, and she could not discern the intentions of the visitor.

It felt familiar. A presence that she had sensed somewhere before, recently, on Zhar if she was not mistaken. Yet, there had been many unknown elements at the site of the hidden Jedi temple. Scavengers, grave robbers, historians, archaeologists…It had been a cesspool of mingling energies. New and old.

Srina watched as a darkly hooded figure passed the gates and crossed the courtyard. The Well was hidden. Very, very well hidden. It was impossible to find in the wastelands of Ryloth unless one knew the coordinates. He Master had gone through great pains to keep it out of the way and self-sustaining to give himself a safe place to retreat. It was a bastion of many things, light and dark, but few would ever be able to cross the sand-strewn dunes unscathed.

This man, as he clearly appeared to be, was lucky indeed.

“You may stop where you are.”, Srina called to the unknown, silver eyes hard, and entirely unmerciful. The young woman could be compassionate, toward those she knew, and was certainly capable of gentleness but that did not extend to strangers that wandered in unannounced. “Who are you and why have you come to the Well?”

No one simply demanded to speak with the Vicelord of the Confederacy. Not since she had been cut down on Tatooine and certainly not since one of their own had stabbed him in the chest on Haseria. They could not be too careful, and as it stood, her Master was working in the Forge. Despite his silent efforts to keep his alchemy bloodless, the young woman could still not return, feeling little more than death in those halls. Even from the safety of his chambers above the dreaded place…She could feel the pull. The lingering darkness. It called, always.

Srina could not resist if she kept placing herself in situations that amplified the dark side. Every ability she learned, every time she called on a Darkshear, or a bolt of lightning, she felt parts of her resolve crumbling. She could no longer allow her emotions to pass as they used to. Her anger welled. Her hatred, welled, no matter how she told herself otherwise.

One day—it would implode. Hopefully, this man would not be the source that triggered it. If he wished for a fight, the wintry apprentice would meet him with a ferocity vicious enough to wake the dead.

​

[member="Connor Harrison"] | [member="Darth Metus"]​

 

[Connor Harrison]

The incline was steeper somehow than expected leading to the Well. Connor almost walked sideways up the path – if what he was on was even a path at all – to keep his balance and grip. He pulled on thick tree branches to help him up as he passed them, a little catapult up the rather tricky terrain.

Now and then he stopped to glance out from under how cowl – helping keep away the heat of the sun – to see and hear what looked like mythical beasts. Dragons? The winged creatures looked small, yet he couldn’t work out the depth perception. He could hear the mighty power of their wings with each flap and their cries to each other as they almost circled above the Well and the perimeter.

A voice stopped him from watching.

Connor looked up to see the figure flanked by a crimson eyed MagnaGuard. It was that of a young women with hair nearly as silver as the attire she wore. Echani. And a Force user. The one who had touched upon his presence days before as the Confederacy claimed the Hidden Temple. The Master took a few more stable steps to at least be on secure ground before pulling back his cowl and pushing the crimson cloak back behind him.

"Hello there," he said.

The Echani could see Connor was armed with only the saber to his hip and nothing else – three brown belts crossed his abdomen in a charcoal grey tunic, and red amulet hung from a chain around his neck.

"My name is Connor Harrison and I am here to speak to your Master, Lord Metus. He will know my name, but possibly not my intention. Our paths have crossed before now and then, years ago." He stayed still while talking, hands by his sides. "You’re the apprentice from the ship-yard on Zhar. A fine mind you have, Srina Talon. Very well attuned and focused."

Connor wouldn’t smile or revel in knowing her name. He had enough resources and knowledge and experience to make sure he knew where he was going and who he was going to meet. There would be no mistakes made on his future path this time.

"I come in peace, of course."

With that, he opened his hands and parted his arms a little in a mock-surrender.

[member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Srina Talon]

The slender woman floated down from the steps that led to the interior of the Well. She knew every inch of this property and could feel the very sands shift beneath the feet of this intruder. He moved forward at her call, taking his eyes from her Sky Demon, and the MagnaGuard responded. Phrik electrostaffs stirred the air behind her as they took battle positions, deliberately threatening, though they held steady when Srina rose her hand. Her every movement was living, breathing grace, despite the fact that she was likely looking at someone much stronger than she.

This was her home. He had arrived unannounced and the Well was deeply hidden. She would defend it, she would hold suspicion, and she would put this man through his paces. If the Confederacy had ever inherited a difficult taskmaster from an association to the Vicelord—it was her.

He introduced himself and in a flash of insight, she knew, that his presence was the one that she had felt on Zhar. It was dark and strong, touchable shadow, and silvery eyes glinted with the recognition. That had been some time ago. He continued on, referencing the event she had already linked him to, however, he mentioned her by name. He commented on her mental state, perhaps issuing a compliment, but she would not bend.

“Stay out of my mind.”, Srina warned, her tone frostbitten, akin to that of nuclear winter. She would give him that one, singular, opportunity to adhere to her demand. Her mind was her own. Always.

There were very, very few she allowed even to brush the surface. She did not know how this Connor Harrison had gotten his information, but for someone of his ability, it wouldn’t have been out of the question. Some preferred to gather knowledge the old-fashioned way. Others, chose to do so by quicker, more effective means. To that end, she did not know him. Could not trust him.

He uttered that he came in peace and wintry eyes, glimmering with starlight, followed his every move. Not for the first time she echoed her Master. Tatooine had taught her the response to this claim. “Peace is a lie.”

Srina walked forward with all of the confidence of a little queen. She held her hand out, seeming less human by the moment, with almost automatic responses. “You will disarm. No outsider may bring a weapon into the well. Failure to comply results in immediate expulsion.”

It went without saying that Force Users were expected to keep a lid on it. It was one thing, to confiscate a physical weapon, but entirely different when the person entering the Well WAS a weapon. “Your personal effects will be returned to you as the Vicelord wills, or, at the end of your stay.”

Once Connor agreed, the svelte woman would turn her back on him, and head toward the waiting MagnaGuard. One of the Sky Demons overhead swooped low, faster than some might give them credit for, and stopped immediately in front of the ghostly woman. The creature screeched, loudly, and the Force rippled within the sound. Srina reached up and touched its jaw, causing the sound to cease, before it began to trill and growl. A soft, sardonic laugh filled the air. “No, Etrigan. You may not eat him.”

The Sky Demon huffed, before massive, leathery wings flapped—causing a gust of wind that could throw someone off their feet. Srina remained unmoved, before glancing back at their guest.

“Welcome to the Well.”

[member="Connor Harrison"] | [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Every note he made in the seconds that followed was a defensive / aggressive one. The stance of the Echani and her tone, mixed with her slight hint of unstable emotion, was the first note. She was sitting on a lot of power. A lot of responsibility. Yes, she was in control, but there was more to the girl than met eye. Second, the dragon – nay, dragons – circling what seemed to be her and the Well. Third, the MagnaGuard zipping into attack formation; the circuity of a droid was something Connor had no time for – wires and chips and data running on artificial intelligence.

She stood, and spoke, like a Sith.

Connor glanced around, just to keep an eye on his surroundings.

"Glad we have the hospitality out of the way," he muttered.

When the call came for him to hand over his weapons, he had no quarms with it. All could be replaced, and they were material items. The weapons he wanted to nurture were the ones he held personally; the Force and his mind. The two of them were greater than any plasma blade or sharpened metal.

He nodded with a casual grace, then rolled up the sleeve of his right arm and unbuckled the spring-loaded hidden blade gauntlet. With his silver and back lightsaber hilt unhooked next, he handed the little package into the slender hands of the Sith Echani, and then stepped back.

The cue to follow was when she laid out ground rules and turned towards the Well. He had only made a few steps before the air seemed to suck in around him as the large beast from above came down. It reminded him of being face to face with a Krayt Dragon, years ago. Except this was smaller. And tame.

At the notion of being eaten, Connor’s brow rose slightly. Not the welcome he had expected, and when the beast flew he had to brace his footing as not to stumble from the down-draft that felt as strong as a Jedi gunship.

"So tell me," hand lowering over his face to protect form the swirling sand. "Peace is a lie. What is it the Confederacy strive for today then if not peace and all that comes with it?"

[member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Srina Talon]

The intruder muttered something that she didn’t quite catch over the natural keening wails of the Ryloth wilds. For the time being, she ignored it, and instead focused on the issue at hand. She could feel his eyes, fully aware, and knew that he was evaluating her just as much as she was him. Echani eyes missed very little, but when it came to those skilled in the Force, the naked eye could tell lies. Things were not always as they seemed to be.

Etrigan was a welcome surprise, a break, in the monotony of remaining stone cold and unmovable in the face of an uninvited guest. The fact that he had found the Well left her stomach feeling tight, as if their security had been breached, or if the wards, were somehow failing. The force field that surrounded the property was strong and unforgiving. It bothered her, to know that someone had passed it, and had then walked right up to their front door unimpeded.

“Pull another squad from stasis and patrol the area. Bring any outsiders to me immediately.”, Srina ordered the MagnaGuard who watched with ominous, glowing red eyes, and responded immediately. There was zero hesitation. Their programming was an elegant work of art. The sub-routines that gave them personality, and purpose, made them all the more lethal.

The wind moved as Etrigan took flight, and Srina steadied herself with the Force, more than used to his impetuousness. He was not fully grown. His mother, Thorne, was thrice the size and much less forgiving. This Connor Harrison was lucky that the matriarch of their Sky Demons had not found him before she had. She began to move forward as the droids moved out, and Etrigan howled, entirely unhappy over their heads. The white of her form-fitting dress trailed along behind her, somehow seeming unblemished by the sand, unmarred by the dirt.

The man asked a question. Of course, he would inquire about the Confederacy, if he had been on Zhar and sought to invade the private property of the Vicelord. “Peace does not exist. Not truly. That notion is a figment of wishful thinking as it will always be accompanied by agonies, ecstasies, intense joys and profound sorrow.”

“To eradicate all of that would be to decimate a people and their cultural identity entirely. You cannot have one without the other. There is no respect, no peace, among equals because equality does not exist in this galaxy. Nothing will ever be made fair. Either one side prevails and the other follows, or both negotiate their differences, and create a greater partnership. We fight for the freedom of our member worlds to do that at their own pace and in their own time. We defend them, to give them a chance to flourish and create, versus taking away that which makes them who they are. The blackest parts of society, that which destroys everything it touches, such as slavery, is condemned. Other than that…We let our systems govern themselves.”, Srina trailed off as she passed through the interior of the courtyard and into the Well itself. A grand hall would make itself visible to their guest, with both artificial, and torchlight filling the area. Her Master had taken rustic beauty and combined it with modern conveniences. “We do not seek to create organic drones, Mr. Harrison. The Confederacy has quite enough droids. Don’t you think?”

She stopped at a circular table and began to lay the weaponry down that she had confiscated. In the middle sat a statue of a Sky Demon. Each was arranged neatly, placed gently, before she backed away and lights snapped down from the ceiling and surrounded it in a column. It wasn’t simply a force field, but lasers that would incinerate anything that tried to pass through it. Sticking a hand through it would indeed cost the culprit a hand. Or an arm. Depending on when they were smart enough to stop and cede to pain.

From there the slender Echani moved toward the right and massive doors slid open to reveal a rather large lounge. It was filled with leather bound furniture, a comprehensive bar, and decorated tastefully. In contrast to the glacier personality of the apprentice, this area seemed almost warm, with a fire rolling in a gilded hearth. The walls were lined with books. Priceless. Real and true paperbacks that smelled of intellect and antiquity. There was also a holo-table and a projector with shelves and shelves of data-dockets. The floor was some sort of granite, or marble, and covered in soft carpets.

Flowers, seemingly fresh cut, sat on window sills. Srina enjoyed life. It made such a fortress feel more alive and less like dead rock and durasteel. “Please, be seated. The Vicelord will be with us momentarily.”

A protocol droid wandered in, a little awkward and hesitant, but it seemed to settle when it lay eyes to Srina. It offered to bring them something, and the silvery woman nodded her head, choosing to stand before the fireplace versus sitting herself. “Bring our guest whatever he desires…”, she waved her hand toward Harrison, insinuating that he should tell the droid what he wanted, before adding her own wishes. ”I will take tea. Please, bring caf for Darth Metus.”

She wasn’t sure what frame of mind her Master would be in. But, if he wanted a little whiskey for his coffee, it wasn’t far away.

​

[member="Connor Harrison"] | [member="Darth Metus"]​

 

[Malok]

Lord Metus, your presence is req-

A guttural shriek erupted from the depths of Sinner's Well. Furious. Mighty. In the name of informing the master of the house to unexpected guests, a simple battle Droid now stared death square in the eye. Rows of mammoth teeth were bared before its Durasteel form. Burning eyes glared down upon it. But it did not strike, not yet as it were. As for the intended recipient, he was standing beside one of the Sky Demon's massive flanks. A pair of forging tongs were at work within his sword hand, whilst a look of supreme annoyance dominated his features.

"Don't even start. You were the one who decided itching yourself on a cactus was a good idea."

The tongs tore yet another needle free from between the beast's scales, prompting yet another collosal roar. The Sith did not respond to the noise, but rather deposited the agonizing spine into the bucket at his feet. By now, the needles had completely covered the bottom of the pail. Lord Metus, your presence is requested. Repeated the droid, attempting to gain the man's attention. "Look, today is my off day. I told Viceroy Dib we'd meet tomorrow via holocall."

The Sith located yet another needle. Thorne groaned as the metal touched her scales once again. Negative, Lord Metus, it is not the Viceroyalty. User: Srina Talon is requesting your presence. Darth Metus cocked a brow inquisitively. Having grown so close over the months, the alabaster woman usually felt no need to use communicative technologies with him. They always resided in one another's heads, enough so that Srina usually gave him a nudge whenever she came inside the Well. So to send a Droid in place of the usual meant one of two things.

Either Srina was really the one calling or this was Dib getting creative.

Darth Metus pursed his lips. The risk of it being the former was one that he was not willing to take. As such, he pried free the next spine with minimal warning. Thorne damn near took his head off with her tail this time around. "Will. You. Relax?!" came his eventual reply. The tongs were promptly returned to the adjacent table and the Sith gave his beloved mount a pat on the scales. "Any better?" A light trill noise rumbled within the beast's neck. This was the closest the Sky Demon would ever come to purring. "Good. Give me a holler if you feel anymore."

As Thorne huffed in his wake, the Sith promptly ascended from within the depths of Sinner's Well. Compared to his radiant apprentice, He was much more casually dressed than she. Fortunately, today was not one of his "forge days" - and thus Darth Metus appeared wearing slacks and a white polo. At first, his gaze found [member="Srina Talon"], but there was no joy to be found rippling through their Bond. There was no mirthful jabs or quips for that matter. Even when being within arm's reach, the Echani felt cold - as if she were agitated internally. And, with but the movement of his attention, Darth Metus could see why. A man now stood within their home, one he almost did not recognize right off.

The words Connor Harrison were whispered through their Bond. Almost inquisitively.

"Welcome to the Well, Connor Harrison." came the low beritone of his voice. "I see you've met my Apprentice...what brings you all the way here?"

There was no malice in his voice, but no adoration either. Harrison was a man he had heard of when they both orbited a particular Imperial power within the Unknown Regions. Their interactions were brief - but nothing the man did had ever resulted in a negative opinion from Darth Metus. The Sith calmly took his seat at this time and...went straight for the whiskey. Caf could wait.

"You're a long way from Dosuun."

[member="Connor Harrison"] | [member="Srina Talon"]