Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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You did say 'let us all bleed'. (Voracitos/ Ember)

The lictor-class dungeon ship, slid out of hyperspace a short distance from Mykr and began its slow advance towards the planet. It bore a prisoner, whose name was one that mandalorians would never forget. Though he had not led the attack on Manda'yaim, he was the one sat in the throne t when Darth Apparatus led the battle, when their allies, the Deathwatch had decimated half of Keldabe with a nuclear bomb that killed hunders of men women and children alike. Such acts in war were not uncommon, but it stung all the worse when the strike was at their heart.

Mandalorians won the battle, but they lost a great deal. Mia hoped that her faith in her people was true, that none of them would snap and try to kill the prisoner. Coming out of hyperspace a few seconds behind the Lictor-class, she could only watch and hope. If anyone was going to kill the sithspawn it would be her. Regardless of the fact that he was already dead, there was a way to make sure he didn't come back. She might not have the power, but she sure as hell had the knowledge.

No thanks to Velok.

"You know," she said finally to Ember as they entered Myrkr's atmosphere and the familiar numbness washed over them, as the force was cut off from them all "I'm getting seriously fed up of dead guys not staying dead." Once the dungeon ship had landed, Voracitos would be escorted to a holding cell, where his collar and cuffs would be removed. There was no need for them when the entire prison was riddled with ysalamari contained in nutrient tanks. There he would simply have to wait for Ember and Mia to join him.

[member="Ember Rekali"] [member="Darth Voracitos"]
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Darth Voracitos"]

"There's some debate about that, you know," he said, relaxing as the Force vanished from him. "To what extent can the self, the soul, really stick around after death? Or what we perceive as a Dark Side spirit, stuck to a place or an item -- is that something more like an echo and less like a person? Did the real Voracitos die and return, mostly, to the cosmic Force? That's my opinion, anyway, and I've returned enough Dark Side spirits to the cosmic Force with Light to think that's how it works.

"That said, there's not a lot of difference in my mind between a true transmigration and someone who's infected with enough of that echo to be Voracitos. It's all academic. We're up against the same man either way, down in this cell. Don't go too far, Mia. He wouldn't make a play this open if there weren't cards still left to play."

He landed and made his way to the cell, which held the lean old body that Voracitos had claimed.

"Your Majesty, this is Field Marshal Mia Monroe, formerly Mand'alor the Liberator. She has some questions for you."
 
[member="Mia Monroe"], [member="Ember Rekali"]

Ozai_in_prison.png
Prison...
There wasn't much to say, in terms of what Voracitos was thinking... though one thing was clear. He wasn't happy. Stubborn warriors indeed they were, the plopped him at the furthest directory from the parameters of where he demanded they be taken. What harm could it have been to simply make a prison on Ziost? It wasn't exactly fortified or held any significant... well anything on it. Dromund Kaas was in rubble and those were the only truly Sith worlds in their possession. So they decided to ignore his terms of surrender did they? They would soon learn the price of that indeed.

He was on Mykr and surrounded by those revolting reptiles. They put a dent in his plan, but he did not believe they were major enough to get prissy about. It didn't matter how they tried to contain him, the results would always be the same. The only effective prison for the likes of him were waiting for him at the end of his existence: Oblivion. He doubted even Chaos could keep him back for long, he had known an Emperor that had literally ripped open the doors of Hell and escaped to live once more. With a will like his, he suspected nothing short of complete dissolution was out of his reach.

The Mandalorians holding their confidences and fears in either hand walked to visit the depraved Ex-Emperor turned "Warlord". He hardly moved more than a few muscles to be looking in their general direction, while he reclined as best as possible in this creaky, weathered, old body. It was dissolving at an agonizingly slow rate, at least from the perspective of the Dark Lord. The features of the being before the Mandalorians would most likely see differently... and unexpected due to the appearance he so lavishly boasted in life.

"Questions? Ask. I'll answer." He said as if though he was a machine. His unnaturally eyes bore into those of Mia Monroe, and his emotionless face that some how was accompanied by a smile, but that failed to appear.
 
"How far I go will depend entirely on how much he tests my patience. I'm not a fool, Ember, I'm not going to kill him, though I should."

Mia wasn't Ordo. She wanted very much to rip this man apart, to hear his screams and make him feel the pain of all those who suffered while he ruled. No one would have questioned it either, not after Keldabe. To give in to those desires, to allow her hate and her anger to consume her would make her become everything she despised about this man. For a moment, she just regarded him silently, as Ember made such a gracious introduction. She shot the Elder a look fit to melt a comet, but held her tongue. They each knew who the other was, he was most certainly not an Emperor any more, so the title 'majesty' was a lie.

As Voracitos eyes bore into her, trying to look behind her eyes and into her soul he would find cold eyes glaring back at him, her icy determination not to give it, smothering the flames of her anger. She would be the better person. There were a hundred questions, abut his death, about why he came back, how he came back, about his ship. All of them were minor in comparison to the issue at hand.

"Why are you here?"
[member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Ember Rekali"]
 
[member="Mia Monroe"]

The Former Dark Lord sneered.

"Here, precisely? Well to tell you the truth, I have no idea why I'm here and not on Ziost." Again, not precisely happy about that situation at all. Voracitos was confident in his own abilities here, however, where his doubt lay was within his fellow Warlords and apprentices. Their tenure here would be a most difficult one, and if victory can be achieved, still more difficult to come. Sandwiched between two great enemies, and pissing off one of them wasn't a great idea... but from the reports of his probes, the Jedi have taken a fancy to burning "heretics". His presence so near their borders undoubtedly would bring unwanted attention... not that their attention could be ignored to begin with, but as soon as that space was no longer Mandalorian and up for the taking from Sith...

There warhorse would be down in slumber into sprinting like absolute nothing else. They were fanatics even more zealous now a days than some Sith were. He slumped back and broke gaze from Mia. He shrugged with arms out and hands open with a frown. He shook his head slightly as replied more seriously.

"I am here because I want to be. I hold nothing back from you when I say that I intend to stay wherever it is that I settle, and I expect that most of my people will too. They will fight in your fights at your command and you find that our vision is clear: we want to conquer, so we will." He sighed. "If that means I must suffer here while they do, then so be it. Can't be any worse than dying without knowing it."

Voracitos wondered as he said this, as to what length these people would "question" him so long as he never gave them the answer they so desperately wanted to hear from him. He wondered if he was so despicable to them, that if he was broken some how and told the rest of the truth, if they would even believe it be so. Luckily he didn't need to worry about that.
 
[member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Ember Rekali"]

Mia's hand twitched as he uttered a complaint about not being on Ziost. If she had it her way, which was likely, Voracitos would remain here and his lackeys would be spread far and wide across mandalorian space, whatever they had planned, she would make it very difficult to achieve it.

"If you want to conquer, why not reach out to your own kin? There's enough scum floating around the galaxy for you to bring together and conquer with. Considering the history we have Voracitos, it makes no sense for you to come to us without expecting a bullet to the head." She folded her arms "and thats the merciful option. So, lets try again. Why are you here?"
 
[member="Mia Monroe"], [member="Ember Rekali"]

"Hah! My own ilk? Have you not seen their dribbling? A 'secret' Council of Sith had formed and started manipulating star systems in the wilder parts of the Old Empire under some "Dark Lord" only to disband due to his ineptitude. Of the information I have gathered across the galaxy, the only things I see in my 'own kind' is the most potent mixture of failure and disunion I have ever seen. They all but exist, yet still cling to 'hope' of all things! Hope for a Sith is incredibly unbecoming, and I've a very high image of myself as you know..." From his once stationary position, the old body had found a boost of energy from the shock of his own emotion. Return to his own kind, hah! They were worse than he was, and he used to be a fat guy who sat on a throne and watched their antics all day. He was standing before the two Mandalorians, with wild gestures of his hands.

"Mandalorians? You are warriors true, and I knew my surrender would be a puzzlement to you. A token chip to the few who delve in curiosity or... resentful fear." He stopped as he briefly connected eyes with Mia. He fell back down to his previous position, and turned his head to the side and seemed to nuzzle into the stone cold wall. "I cannot return to the Sith, their age is over... for now. I employ servants of the dark side who believe themselves independent, because I realized upon coming back to the living... that in my death I had no legacy. Voracitos was over, done for, nothing left of him but the after image, the echo. His Empire fell, and upon the destruction of Dromund Kaas you almost undoubtedly killed what remained of that fragile legacy, by that I mean the slaves that were meant to guard the Throne. You prevailed where an angry horde of Sith had almost failed on the day of my death, that... I find that impressive." He shook his head a little.

"But to be on point, as I know of your impatience even without the force to help me, I came to you because I have come to consider you to be the least hostile towards me... believe it or not; and I am incapable of building the charisma to garner adept servants to conquer as I please. My abilities these days to convince the minds have been... lacking. I did not realize how much the Sith did not trust the dead. The few that do follow me, are young, and we lack resources. Even in shackles they will do better under the banner of an enemy, than they would free and without a banner at all." Right now was mostly dialogue, there wasn't much to be said of what he actually did while stationary.
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Mia Monroe"]

Ember's head tilted slightly as his helmet comm went off. Monroe seemed to have this well in hand, and [member="Darth Ayra"] was currently being brought to another sector of the Force-null facility. He headed off to meet Ayra and her guards at her cell.
 
| [member="Ember Rekali"] |

Her eyelids began to open and her chin began to lift up. Her blonde hair was matted in blood, her face bruised. Barely, her yellow sulfuric eyes could see through her fringe. She felt weak and only the chains that bound her wrists to the wall held her body up. Her Sith robe had been torn away, as had the rest of her equipment. Save for her ripped combat vest, trousers and combat boots, Darth Ayra was a pitiful sight. Pay back for the six Mandalorians and the severe injuries she had caused during the ruckus on the Girth of Gluttony.

"Pain is temporary, the force shall free me... Pain is temporary, the force shall free..." she murmured, the taste of blood in her mouth. It was then that the door to her cell opened. She squinted at the light, she the room had been darkened before. Slowly, she summoned the strength to rise up onto her feet and suddenly, her head vaulted out towards Ember, as far as the chains would let her go (Think Aliens vs Predators, when they faced off). She was silent, but rage was in her battered, contorted face as she glared down at her would be captor.
 
Mia watched Ember go. That probably wasn't the safest thing for Voracitos, but she wasn't at the skull cracking stage yet. She lowered herself to the old emperors level, eyes boring into him. Resentful fear? No, Mia was not afraid of him, nor any sith for that matter. The only thing that frightened her was to lose the people she held most dear. This frail man before her? He was nothing but a vessel for a spirit, trapped between here and the netherworld. she wondered what would happen to him if she killed him here, where he couldn't use the force to attached his soul to something. Would chaos open up and swallow him whole.

There were key words in his response. 'age of the sith over for now' .

He wanted a legacy. He wanted sith from now until the end of time to remember who he was, what he was capable of. "No one trusts the dead, Voracitos, least of all me." She should just kill him and be done with it, but there were cards still left to be played and she wanted to work out what they were. "I know how sith think, I have four hundred years of experience to thank for that, so you can guarantee that whatever you're up to, I will remain one step ahead of you. When you try to screw us over, something I'm certain you will try, I will be there to destroy you and your little coup." she sat down on the floor opposite him and drew her blaster.

"Now, lets talk about that battlesphere of yours. What's inside it?"

[member="Darth Voracitos"]
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
He had his helmet off, giving her a good solid look at a man in the throes of middle age, with Vahla-purple eyes but a stockier build than any Vahla. [member="Darth Ayra"] got the satisfaction of making Ember take half a step back, hand falling to the Vornskr scattergun strapped to his right thigh.

He did not, however, blink.

"Got that out of your system?" He squinted into the dark, then toggled the lights, very, very bright. "Force bless ya, you can't be more than thirty. I had kids your age."

With a grunt, he took a seat on a small stool-like wall protrusion beside the door, and folded his arms. "But you're old enough to take responsibility for your actions. Feth, I was way younger than you when I got ripped out of the life you live, pretty much the same karkin' thing. I manned up, found a life worth living. You know how to get out of this cell, but we both know there's only the one way."
 
| [member="Ember Rekali"] |

Her throat was raw. She smacked her lips, waiting for him to finish. When he was done, she rasped, "Water." Her strength left at that point too. She slumped backwards to the floor, hovering inches above it. The metal dug into her wrists, which were already red raw. Part of her wanted to cry, but she wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Darth Ayra"]

He unclipped a soft, but durable, canteen from his belt. No good for bludgeoning, no good for ripping into strips and making garrottes. The lid twisted free. He rose and approached, within the reach of her chains, and held it for her to drink.
 
| [member="Ember Rekali"] |

Ayra sucked around the end of the canteen and drank as much as she could before the Elder Mandalorian withdrew his hands. The bits of drink she hadn't caught dribbled off her lips and chin, but she didn't care. Her yellow eyes were on the Mandalorian the entire time, waiting for what was next.
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Darth Ayra"]

He withdrew the canteen, stepped back well out of reach, folded his arms.

"You know I want names. Planets will do. Vjun, Dyspeth, Malachor, Bonadan, Dxun, Prakith, Byss, Chabosh -- there's just so many options in this day and age." He grinned without humor. "So. Where are the Sith?"
 
| [member="Ember Rekali"] |

"I don't know where the Sith are. All I know about the Sith are the ones that surrendered to you on station you raided." Ayra looked up to the chains as a gesture before looking back to him. "Take these off please."
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Darth Ayra"]

"I don't believe that for a second. You're experienced, of a certain age. The Sith have gone through five Emperors in ten years, or close enough. You know other Sith.

"I'm going to tell you something you're probably expecting to hear. It's the oldest interrogation line in the book; doesn't make it any less true. You've gotten a taste of Mando hospitality, and other Sith know what that's like. So they'll assume you broke, flipped, or let slip things you shouldn't. If I let you go right now, you're dead. Ergo, tell me what you know, because they'll assume you already have."
 
| [member="Ember Rekali"] |

"I already told you what I know." She shook her hands to make a noise with the chains. "Take this off please," Ayra asked again.
 
[member="Mia Monroe"]

The Old Man laughed. He was ever the laugher, always amused by how others tried to make sense of him. A Fat man like he was should never have lived to begin with in the society he was raised in. He was an abomination everywhere, and she tried to say she had a clue what his end goal was? She knew the coup was coming obviously, at this point he would have considered them all dull stupid creatures if they didn't. It was as obvious as it was obvious he was sith.

"Ah, trying to boast about how much Velok granted you? A Sith wasn't he? I'm sure you've gotten over the fact that you hold a repository on your enemy, that by its very nature is a pool of corruption just ticking away the time until your brain is so rotten you will have forgotten who you were before it. But enough of that, what's this? You threaten me with a gun?" The grin was entirely amused, so amused in fact, the old man flung himself from his spot in the room collided into the bars right before Mia, with a face so contorted in laughter it was painful to look at. He pressed his whole body into the bars as if he tried to phase through them like the ghost he was... somewhere. Totally unafraid, and he had doubts she would fire by a simple jump scare. That gun was pointed at him not because she felt threatened, it was a tool of interrogation, and she believed that his spirit was bound to this place. He loved the facet of ignorance.

His whole body writhed as if in pleasure as he spoke, and his speech was quick and agile to match the ever racing mind that owned it.

"That 'Warsphere' is my legacy, and my legacy is what composes my form. I do not exist without it no more than I can exist without a spirit. You are part of my legacy Mia, I have shame on you, and with that little conversation we had so long ago, you had the privilege of being one small part of myself," He squeezed his thumb and his index together near his eye to indicate her size in comparison to the rest of him. He laughed hilariously as he fell onto his back without looking away from Mia. "Shoot me. I dare you. I already know you have to find what you look for, so keep searching! I could tell you in truth of everything about my nature and the nature of my legacy, and still you would assume it a lie! Thus I grant you advice, and don't worry I already salted it, in that you should just learn to trust me. I have no intentions of lying. You want to know everything so bad? Be my guest, I'll be your tutor!" His eyes widened in excitement.

"Wouldn't that just be wonderful?" He said, as he scampered to his knees and scuttled to the bottom of the bars to look up with a tilted smiling head to She-Who-Called-Him-Enemy.
 
Mia tilted he head a mild smile appearing on her lips.

She shot him, straight in the gut. No hesitation, no consideration on whether it was the right thing to do. Just point and shoot.

"Boasting isn't my style, I was merely informing you. I am not that broken woman you spoke to, oh so long ago, Voracitos." She raised the gun again and pulled the trigger this tie aiming for the knee. There was no anger in her, each movement was utterly calm, but she couldn't deny the sense of satisfaction. She imagined Ember would hear the shots from down the hall. "I've come to accept that I'm corrupt. So be it, so long as my corruption serves the survival of my people and the eradication of sith, I don't give a feth." So, if the sphere is your legacy, then I imagine that's where I'll find you when this vessel dies? Totally automated, so plenty of droids but something else too. Something you can anchor yourself too. A holocron perhaps? That would make sense."

She shot the other leg. She made no move to get him medical help, cameras watched the room, she knew it was already on its way.

[member="Darth Voracitos"]
 

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