Your Best Friend

[Darth Osano]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=83jGCWCcBzc​

DXUN
SOMEWHERE IN THIS BLIGHTED, THRICE-DAMNED JUNGLE

Life, especially in a galaxy like this one, was full of coincidences.

Was it a coincidence that an Indoumodon had become the newest addition to the retinue of that dreaded despot from Panatha? So soon after he had visited his usual cruelties to Indoumodo, burning villages, pulling down temples, and executing natives? It seemed unlikely. Maleagant had surveyed some of the destroyed settlements himself to further familiarize himself with that God-King's handiwork. After spending some time there, Maleagant could vaguely understand the need for extermination. Some of the survivors were not keen on talking and had to be put down the hard way after they attacked him. Whether they were like that prior to the wrought destruction or had been driven insane was anyone's guess. Maleagant did not care enough to make one.

Despite his resources, Maleagant had no real way of knowing what went on in that Epixcanthix's court- it was far too insulated, even with its admission into the First Order. Even if it weren't secretive by nature, his networks were not pervasive enough in that area to paint a complete picture. Dxun, however, was comparatively close by. Several times now a shuttle originating from First Order space, the Pacanath Reach by its transponders, had visited Dxun. Maleagant ignored it the first few times, then left some probe droids across the planet when it became more consistent. He was disappointed to see it was not a Zambrano at first, but when he realized it was, in fact, an Indoumodon, he became more interested.

She was a peculiar thing and evidently did not know to look for probe droids on her infrequent pilgrimages to the same stretch of jungle. Her shuttle was always landed a good distance away, different locations each time. As if she was trying to conceal exactly where she was heading from the pilot. Maleagant could appreciate that, but he would appreciate one on one time just a little bit more. He could make an educated guess as to how she had come to work with those butchers. It was probably not willingly, but then again, more unlikely things had happened.

There was only one way to find out.

The next time [member="Nisha Skaiyr"] came to visit Dxun and arrived in the usual stretch she was surveying, she would find another shuttle waiting for her. A star yacht, by the look of it, not that she was probably able to tell the difference. Even she would be able to tell that the loading ramp was down, though, and nobody was to be found immediately outside.

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

Dxun.

A moon teeming with history, begging to share the stories of the adventures had upon its surface. For an archaeologist or a historian, the chunk of foliage-covered rock was a gold mine. It was a pity, then, that Nisha was neither of these things. Whilst yes, the ruins did interest her somewhat, and she would never turn down a history lesson, it was not for these reasons that the Sithling came to the Dark Side infested moon.

She came to Dxun because of the danger, because of the Darkness that wrapped itself like a blanket around the moon. She journeyed here to escape Panatha and the oppressive, gilded prison that was Vain Hollow. But most of all, she ventured to Dxun because it reminded her of Indoumodo. Carnifex disapproved of Nisha's pilgrimage here, likely for that exact reason, but the Witch couldn't be bothered to care. It was where she came to feel some semblance of peace, some semblance of privacy, two commodities so rarely found upon the surface of Panatha.

For these reasons and a few others, Nisha Skaiyr was quite displeased to hear that another ship had landed relatively nearby - in the stretch of jungle that she called her own, no less.

Her first instinct was to order it fired upon, but - no. No, no. That would be savage, it would be cruel, and worst of all, it would be pointless. There was no evidence that this stranger was here to cause her harm, or even to inconvenience her in the slightest way. Were she to have them destroyed, she would be engaging in the same slaughter that she despised Carnifex for. So instead of doing that, she had her ship land a ways away, as normal, and retrieved her weapons; Kahre Narsa in her main hand, and in her off hand, a strange projectile weapon called, if the ship's crew was to be believed, a Tenloss Ambassador. The name, Nisha thought, made little sense; such a violent implement being named after such a peaceful occupation. Well, at least it did its job; that job being, of course, the inflicting of grievous injury upon whatever you pointed the thing at.

After checking her respirator, the War-Witch departed from her ship, making her way through the jungle as she typically did, until she reached the intruding ship. No one nearby, lowered ramp - it was probably a trap. There was only one way to deal with that, then.

With the sort of swagger that only the very skilled or the very foolish could manage, she made her way upon the star-yacht, sword and pistol at the ready.

Peace was the objective, but it was better safe than sorry.

--

[member="Maleagant"]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Nisha Skaiyr"]

As Skaiyr drew closer to the shuttle, Maleagant stirred in his seat, exiting his meditation. He was meditating a lot more recently, especially after that little incident where a certain Cathar had kneed him in the groin. Anger and outrage was all part of being a Sith, but it was better to channel them in combat when necessary. To walk around as a hot headed mess like that loathsome feline would only be a recipe for disaster. Meditation gave him clarity, focus, and it also gave him a hint as to when his guest would be arriving. The living area of the yacht was posh and modern. The only thing that looked out of place was the Morgukai standing in the center of the room, anxiously watching the loading ramp and the jungle outside, lightsaber pike at the ready. Maleagant's eyes flicked over to him.

If he had not been such a loyal employee, the Morgukai's cautiousness would have been annoying. Still, here it was unwarranted. "Wait in the cockpit, Deglarch."

With great reluctance, Deglarch abandoned his watch and sulked off to a separate part of the ship. There were also several Helix Syndicate Specialists hanging around in different parts of the ship. A precaution, on the off chance things got messy for whatever reason. Maleagant did not anticipate that would be the case. Provided he was correct, and very rarely in these matters was he not, they were going to see eye to eye on a lot of key issues. Like the exact lot in life genocidal monsters deserved. He heard her marching up the ramp slowly, as if waiting for an ambush. For a moment there he thought she wouldn't make the walk-up, but apparently she was bolder than that. He saw her sword sticking out around the corner before he opted to say anything.

"There won't be any need for that."

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

The fact that Nisha was greeted not with weapons, but with words, was a pleasant surprise. That lowered the likelihood that she was walking into a trap, but all it really proved was that, if it was indeed a trap, it was one laid by someone with slightly more intelligence than your average Vornskr. Nisha turned the corner, pistol still raised...

What she saw caused her to lower her weapon, if only slightly. A man, grey of skin, just like her, and with a face covered in tribal, jagged tattoos, stood before her. Completely calm, armed only with a lightsaber, which he hadn't even drawn. Darkness, cold and collected, rippled from him in small waves - and it was unique. Nothing like the raw, animal savagery that emanated from Carnifex, and lacking the heartbreak that tainted Prazutis's presence in the Dark. Carnifex was a Kouhun, Prazutis utterly alien, and Nisha herself more like a Vornskr. The man who stood before her was a spider. Venomous and patient, skittering through the darkness to spin its webs and wait.

And yet - the Witch felt no danger on the horizon. The Dark Side, a harsh mistress though it was, had always warned her of impending peril. Here, there was no chill down her spine, no little voice in her head whispering "run, run." By all appearances, this man truly bore no malice for her.

One tense, silent moment later, and the War-Witch lowered her weapons and spoke, her tone cautious and wary.

"Who are you, and why are you here?"

---

[member="Maleagant"]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Nisha Skaiyr"]

She had elected not to shoot him in the face. Excellent. Deglarch would have been pleased were he not still expecting it. It was unfortunate he was not attuned to the nuances of the Force, otherwise he would have known there was no immediate danger. The Indoumodon looked even more wild up close, despite half her face being obscured by a respirator. A precaution when traveling off world, or had Carnifex torn out her lungs to discipline her? The fact that it was a toss up disgusted Maleagant greatly, but there would be time to express such things later.

"Melwas." Said Maleagant who was, quite clearly, not named Melwas.

Maleagant imagined the Zambrano Dynasty had many ways of making people talk, some less pleasant than others, some more based in the Force than others. If at any point they suspected her of meeting with a... Dissident, they would interrogate her and rip names and memories from her mind. Maleagant would like them to have the wrong name. They would also have the wrong face as well- Maleagant had a happy talent for changing those out whenever he desired. The Warrior-Witch could only divulge what she knew, so the less details, the better.

The Acolyte studied the Witch from where he sat, gesturing to a comfortable-looking seat a little ways off from him. "The man who retrieved you from Indoumodo murdered my family."

When Darth Vornskr, as he was known then, summoned the whole of Maleagant's family, extended and otherwise, few had the wisdom to remain where they were. His father and every other immediate familial relation had attended and been killed for it, as did most of his cousins. Maleagant was the only person he was aware of who had both avoided attending the summons and the subsequent crack down. Those who had survived were taken as slaves, except for Cedric and Evelyn. But Cedric was lost, both physically and mentally. Evelyn was dead. Maleagant was all that was left, non-human status notwithstanding.

"I suspect we have that in common."

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

"You want to make Carnifex suffer," was Nisha's immediate response. Her voice wasn't accusatory, it wasn't judgmental. In fact, if one listened closely enough, they might hear the beginnings of joy creeping into the Witch's voice. The young woman sheathed her sword, holstered her revolver, and took a seat, never ceasing her speech. "A noble goal, if nigh impossible to accomplish.

The Witch leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes - well, eye. The injured one of the pair remained open and decidedly alert, following Nisha's companion around the room, should he so choose to move. "Those who swear loyalty to the Reach are fanatics to the last, every one convinced of their King's godhood. His slaves have been recently purged of dissidents. Sparking rebellion, whether in the citizens of the Reach or the slaves which fuel their way of life, is impossible." The Witch adjusted herself, straightening her posture and opening her eye again. "Destroying that which he holds dear is difficult as well. The Butcher King loves none but himself, and names among his friends only two living creatures- his Uncle, Lord Prazutis, and his battle-mount. And while ripping these things from his life would no doubt injure him, said pain would be fleeting; his heart is dead and rotten, and ice flows through his veins."

Nisha took a moment to adjust her respirator, refitting the straps and making sure that the machine was secured to her face. That task done, she continued speaking. "The final method which I have considered is simply ripping Carnifex apart. There are two barriers to this goal, however. The first is that Carnifex is more powerful than any Sith I have encountered. The second, and more important, is that if tales are to be believed, the Butcher King refuses to stay dead. He can be killed, but his spirit returns to this realm eventually." With a soft sigh, distorted unnaturally by the machine masking the Witch's face, she looked up at Melwas. "I tell you these things not to say that I will refuse to assist you. I tell you them so that you might know ahead of time that the traditional means of vengeance will be ineffective. We must be clever and patient if we are to deliver a drop of justice upon Carnifex's head."

---

[member="Maleagant"]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Nisha Skaiyr"]

She took a seat without any further questioning and dived into a long explanation. She said more in those few minutes than Maleagant had said across the past three weeks. The Witch was... Surprisingly forward. And well spoken. Unsurprisingly this made Maleagant slightly more suspicious, but not enough to call an end to this rendezvous. He was not so well-versed in the workings of the Force that he could tell, flat out, whether those speaking to him were lying. Only vague notions, and in this instance the person he was speaking to was being refreshingly nervous. Should he really be suspicious? Maleagant might have been just as forward if anyone wronged by Carnifex had approached him, now that he thought about it. Although that would have suggested they were able to figure out his connection to House Dorn, and that was just a bad concept.

Maleagant had guessed many of these facts and was pleased to hear them confirmed. Most rulers who enforced order through fear were easy to incite rebellions against, but Carnifex was not most rulers. The loyalty he instilled in his populace was absolute. Even if it weren't, the Reach was militarized to the point where a rebellion would only end in slaughter. The generals or admirals would not step out of line either. They had seen the skull of Karin Dorn, the fate of Christoff Dorn, the results of numerous attempts to dethrone the Black Iron Tyrant from within Panatha. It was an impossibility, no more feasible than extinguishing a forest fire with a pint of gasoline. The First Order could do it, as could any galactic government with the right amount of concentrated effort, but that would require making them care.

"Killing and binding Carnifex is secondary." Maleagant stated, eyes alight with possibility. "The first step is to see him driven from the Reach. Not by his people, but by outsiders. Governments."

There was a plan beyond that, but to elaborate would be to risk it. These sort of schemes were best left fluid and undescribed, that they could be adjusted ad hoc. It did not matter which government was responsible for Carnifex's exile, although Maleagant would prefer the system remain controlled by the First Order. The thought of assisting Jedi did not appeal to him at all, but he would compromise where necessary. There was so much he had lost and only so little to be regained through vengeance. Maleagant would do what he needed to do and there would be no qualms or hesitation.

He continued. "Your position among his ranks is vital to that. I must know what goes on in his court. The First Order cannot tolerate his atrocities for long."

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

Nisha slumped back in her seat for a moment, deep in thought. He wanted her to feed him information. She was a warrior - the call of battle was in her blood, violence an integral part of her. She was a creature of war, pure and simple. But war was different in the Galaxy - she was not stalking off-worlders in the Great Swamp or battling rival tribes in the Blood Glades. She was striking against a being with more power, both in the Force and in the realm of politics, than Nisha had ever imagined possible.

And Melwas's idea...yes. Yes, that could work. Nisha had little information about the First Order, other than that the Pacanth Reach was its vassal state.

And she had no doubt that they knew little of the monstrosity that occurred within their Vassal's courts.

"Carnifex's mount, Barbas, is allowed free reign about Vain Hollow. Occasionally, he eats a servant or two." Rage, just creeping in at the edge of Nisha's voice. "Darth Eversor crushed a servant to death. Slowly. It was torture. And why? Because no one applauded one of his self-aggrandizing speeches." The Witch sat back up properly, and locked eyes with her companion. "And I am certain that I can find even worse, if given time."

---

[member="Maleagant"]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Nisha Skaiyr"]

Maleagant grimaced and said nothing for a while. Such stories did not bode well for the survivability of any Dorns Carnifex had taken captive. Except for Cristoff, of course. The Tyrant had a warped sense of humor and leaving that sniveling creature alive fit it perfectly. Cristoff was the third and final item on the list of people he wanted to see dead more than anything else in the galaxy. The first two had already been discussed. Other servants of Carnifex, man or beast, were largely irrelevant to him. But if the mount was devouring servants and his sworn-sword was arbitrarily murdering people, people would be outraged to hear it. But these were minor tragedies in the grand scheme of things. The First Order would need something with more meat to it if they were to be goaded into action.

If not, then instances such as these would have to do. They would just need to be circulated among the First Order's population rather than given directly to officials. The First Order might have been an authoritarian state, but even they wouldn't tolerate Zambrano's appalling conduct if it was whipping their citizens into an outraged frenzy.

"Are you able to document these actions?" He asked, "Record them in any way?"

The Acolyte did not necessarily have high hopes for the literacy and technological savvy of someone who had been violently transplanted from their tribal lifestyle. Still, it did not hurt to ask, and if the answer was what Maleagant expected, he already had a workaround.

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

"I..." Began Nisha, her tone unsteady and uncertain, "I am aware that methods to do so exist. But I must admit that I am unfamiliar with most of the technology that this Galaxy offers." It was, admittedly, a point of minor frustration for the Witch that she had not yet assimilated to modern Galactic society. It was something she needed to work on, seeing as it appeared that she was not going to be returning home any time soon. "But I can learn. I am primitive, yes, but I am not dim. If you are willing to acquaint me with the necessary technology, I can learn its operation quite quickly."

Despite a meager attempt to remain somewhat professional in demeanor, Nisha couldn't keep the excitement from creeping into her voice once more. She'd quite nearly resigned herself to the idea that her Master was untouchable, that she could never hope to sate her lust for vengeance. Her companion had rekindled in her heart the one thing that Carnifex had tried the hardest to strip her of.

He'd given her hope.

The Indoumodian's good eye flashed red when next she spoke, then slowly faded back to its typical slate grey. There was something new in her voice, too, something other than excitement or caution. There was hunger, furious and primal. "No longer will Carnifex be held unaccountable for his actions. We shall make sure of that."

---

[member="Maleagant"]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Nisha Skaiyr"]

"We shall." Maleagant agreed. If her voice betrayed fury, his was far colder. Most outbursts of emotion, joy or otherwise, had been snuffed by particularly steeled resolve.

Years of brooding on his dead family with slim chances of retribution took its toll, predictable jokes of angst aside.

These next few months would be integral. A willing asset inside the court of Darth Carnifex could not be priced, could hardly even be conceived. Yet here it was, staring him straight in the face: again, the most well-spoken tribeswoman he had ever met. Maleagant had not necessarily been acquainted with a lot of tribeswomen, but this one had defied all conjured stereotypes. He wasn't about to complain, it was easier to speak with people when they were not mortally fearful of fire or continually adjusting the bone that had been ceremonially pierced through their nose. This one was clearly riled up by the approaching prospect of justice, but any impatience and premature action on either of their parts would not end well.

She could be killed, or worse, broken further. Another opportunity for a sleeper agent in Carnifex's court would not likely arise, at least not within the lifetime of a normal human. They would need to be exceptionally careful. And to that end he could not risk turning her into a junior reporter, sulking about Vain Hollow with audio recording devices or cameras hidden on her person. There were other ways to get what they needed without drawing any immediate suspicion by decking out the Warrior-Witch with electronics she was normally adverse to.

He waved a hand, as if to physically dismiss the notion of teaching her. "Too much risk. When you return here in three months, I will have something else for you to bring to the castle."

Never underestimate the money an angry man will pour into research and development to lash back out at his enemies. Maleagant stood, walking slowly over to her.

"If you become suspect, if you fear discovery, you will inform me." A bird in the court was worth a thousand anywhere else, but he found people were more willing to help him if he could make assurances about them having a way out if things became bleak. "I can arrange for your escape."

He extended his hand to her. "Do you trust me?"

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

"No." Nisha had little reason to trust this man. Not only for the aura of dishonesty, of trickery, that surrounded him, but also because she had only just met him. He could be an agent of her Master; sent to trick her, to give her hope and then, at the very end, dash it all against the rocks. And even if he was honest about his goal, the ruination of Carnifex, that certainly didn't mean that he had her best interests at heart. He spoke of his intent to make sure that she could escape, but it was just as likely that he would abandon her if it became convenient. And yet...it was worth it. She could be put in grave danger. She could be betrayed. But if there was a chance, however insignificant, that she could actually hurt Carnifex? It was worth it all, without doubt.

The Witch rose from her seat, silent. She reached out to Melwas, grabbed his forearm, and gave it a squeeze. Beneath her respirator, she smirked, and there was a dangerous twinkle visible in her one good eye.

"But if it means I get to hurt the bastard, then I'll pretend I do."

---

[member="Maleagant"]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Nisha Skaiyr"]

"No."

Predictable, but only because it was also understandable. Being raised in the jungle with nothing but wooden tools and loincloths had clearly not robbed the Warrior-Witch of her sense of cunning. Or maybe this distrust was all a result from her treatment at the hands of the Tyrant. After all, the last time a Sith had come to visit her unannounced on a jungle world... Well, best not to think about it. She shook his hand, and that was an acceptable enough sign. The risks were tremendous to both parties, no doubt about that, but normally cautious individuals could be spurred to do anything if they hated someone enough and they believed it would hurt them.

If she did not trust him now, she would come to. Eventually. Just as he came to trust Lord Fa and Thengil.

The risk was especially lopsided towards the Witch. Her acceptance spoke volumes of the hate she held in her heart. Regardless of her motives, successful execution of her part of the bargain would put Maleagnt in the best position possible to strike back against his most hated foe. He would not easily forget this.

"Good. Exercise caution." He advised, releasing her from the handshake. "Spend the rest of your time on this planet as you normally do. There will be a package and audio instructions waiting at this location when you next visit."