Guy of Z

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

The group observed the Stasis pod shaking violently, Hirog decided now was the best time to act on his ambitions.

"The pods going to explode it's an imperial trick gaurds!"

The guards took the clone trooper aside and tossed him to the ground

Earen noticed something off in Hirogs urgency however

"Kriff was that Hirog!"

"As Admaral Ackbars aide I outrank you merc. Keep your nose out of my business I need to get this to fleet command stat."

Hah and that fool captain of this ship was his former crewmen...my position and cunning make Hiromi control absolute!

"Ill be taking this personally as you good soldiers deal with this...vat grown automaton."

As soon as Carter hits the deck his training kicks in and he rolls back to his feet and into a fighting stance. He’d take these people on non-lethally, he decided, for now at least. One of the guards charge him, so Carter simply takes a step diagonally forward and decks them, flipping them to the floor. The next raises his rifle which the clone bats to the side before delivering a swift uppercut to floor them too. “These are the fighting forces nowadays?” He asks to nobody in particular as he draws his blaster pistol “laughable.”

The bolt dings harmlessly off the metal of the stasis pod, mere centimetres from Hirog’s head “I don’t take kindly to liars and cheats. Try that again and the next one will be in your head. Understood?”

“AHHHH HELP!” Hirog begged as he sped off on top of the grav loader at top speed with the clone trooper chasing right after him and firing blaster bolts at the retreating Hiromi.

“Oh dammit….Holdo you better kriffing pay me EXTRA for this!” The Mercenary began to give chase.

“Wait get back here! Has everyone on this ship gone mad?”

After assuming he lost his pursuer Hirog began to plan to make it to his ship for his hasty getaway.

Heheheh with this Sith Artifact in the hands of the Hiromi Empire the New Republic and Empire will be forced to bow before Hiromi Might! I am a true genius!

Unfortunately the Hiromi spy failed to notice that he was still moving at a fast pace and reached a wall.

“Nonononono!” Hirog shouted as he fruitlessly tried to take the controls but it wasn't enough to decelerate and both the Hiromi spy and his prize bashed into the hallway wall of the ship.

“Hirog what the hell are you doing! We were talking sense to that clone before….why is that pod broken?” Holdo began scolding her peer but was immediately disterbed by the imminent threat she witnessed from the fact...the pod had a large hole in it.

“Oooooh my thorax….wait that's not supposed to be there!” Hirog began to gulp as he noticed two humanoid hands began to make the hole larger...somehow the occupant inside the pod possessed unnatural strength in defiance against its Humanlike appearance.
“Oh….I woke it up..” Hirog immediately began to hide behind Holdo.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention she was biomechanically enhanced a bit.” Carter says, quickly bullshitting an excuse to explain away the superhuman strength “Not much mind you, just enough that she can protect herself in case of… Oh I dunno, a Hiromi kidnapping her?”

He steps forward to the pod, awaiting his target to step outside. “Miss Vehia?”

The being that exited the pod had humanoid qualities but pale skin with a reddish hue and strange and primitive clothing. Rather then answering the Clone it picked him up by the throat one handedly and tossed him into the Vice Admiral and the cowering Hiromi.

"Ack! Ow, okay…" Carter slowly stands up. "Heck of a way to greet me ma'am, could you please calm down a little? We mean you no harm, I was assigned to be your bodyguard…"

<Where is my Lord? What world do I inhabit? Answer me!> She spoke in an inhuman tongue, a language of a race long since dead 4 millennia ago.

'So the chance I'm going to just have to murder everyone here to keep her secret keeps going up and up…' carter thinks with an internal sigh

Suddenly New Republic soldiers began to arrive with Earhen in tow.

“Alright clone drop the the-. Why is the Pod broken?”

He turned to see the strange pinkish red tinted woman and took a step back.

He had only been told the basics of the Sith’s hisstory due to his proximity with the Empire’s masters but he knew enough that the Sith were a race at one point...and red skin was a feature. That pod was in a Sith Temple on a Sith world; it didn't take an expert to deduce what was going on.

“Ohhhh Kriff.”

The Woman turned her Scarlet eyes on Earen.

<The Force...it does not reveal your mind to me...or your presence. Curious only our greatest Assassins knew this method of deceit.>

“Uh..hello?”

<Silence...where am I? Who or what are you? Where is Exar Kun?>

“Look… I have no idea what you are saying...we can get you food or a hologame or…”

<This is no game! Where have my enemies taken me? Where is the Brotherhood's fleet Assassin?”> She was not in the mood to be placated, there was an usurper to her Masters Rule.

“...can someone get a translation droid?”

The Pink skinned woman noticed the Human could not comprehend her...her grasp of basic was shaky but she could tell that much now.

“Assassin where is place??”

“On a ship its a long story…”

“Want off need travel home. You will take me or die!”

“Uh that's a lot of conditions for someone who just showed up here!”

She ignored his comment and sized Earhen and bulldozed past the Republic soldiers.

“Heeeeelp!” he screamed as she dragged him away.

“Wait I need her to come with me!” Hirog shouted

“Take me to ship need leave.”

“I didn't get paid yet lady.”

“Not caring”

“Stang you wookiee woman! I need my credits!”

“What is stang? Never minding take me to ship or die!”

To say that Vice Admiral Amalyn Holdo’s day had gone from mundane, to annoying, to bad, to worst was the mother of all understatements. -I should have just stayed home, listened to slam poetry and drank bean milk tea prepared by male attendees. Why did I ever decide to join the Republic Navy. Oh, right because the Empire bombarded one of our colonies on system poetry month and outlawed the scarves and hairstyles everyone wore. She suspected the Emperor didn’t actually do that, but the planetary governor did it to be petty. And when Endor happened the private militias of the wealthy got merged into the Navy and part of her compensation was being made an Admiral. Borsk Fey’la was so progressive, she could never understand why everyone else in the navy was so mistrusting of him. He certainly had better sense than that misogynist Iblis and the privileged Mothma. Perhaps it was more problematic pro human bigotry? Maybe she’d blog about it after she finished her duties this evening. At eighteen, she was the youngest Admiral in the Republic Navy, agism was a real thing she had to deal with but with this war heating up, perhaps she’d have a chance to show them all. Those thoughts of course were interrupted by the enhanced female who rose out of the pod, speaking Sithari.

Who promptly proceeded to lord her presence over the deck of the taller woman’s cruiser and then began taking hostages. She wasn’t bothered by that, it was Sith culture and as a quasi artificial being she was entitled to practice it to a degree. Her problem was when the girl demanded to know the whereabouts of Exar Kun and began acting as her social status entitled her to act superior to the sentients around her. The young aristocrat who bought her commission found that deeply problematic. Social virtue was important, culture was important but couldn’t the being understand she was interfering in a reformers quest! Thus the Galaxy’s loudest hypocrite promptly stormed over to the irate female.

<Excuse, I am flying sky chief Holdo of Novice law land> Holdo was always told her Sith was masterful. Perhaps it was time to put it to use? <Forgive as to not assume you are sexual eunuch made to look like female> She did her best to articulate “not to assume your gender gentle being” <But Exar Kun has, passed into story, he was made shame by high prostitute of Jedi governance and this was three thousand years from tomorrow>

The Woman turned to Holdo and leered angrily at her butchery of even the simplified version High Sith tongue her people spoke. Even more at the implication...she was some manner of eunuch from this...neon haired dandy. Even more insulting was the implication her God King could be slain by the weakling Jedi.

<You speak words of lies and treachery fluorescent haired reprobate, Exar Kun should have escaped to do battle again I was told this! He defeated the great Wyrm no being could best him in combat, no mortal!>

Why was her grammar all wrong? Holdo blinked, as the apparent female began speaking all the teenaged Admiral could hear were the incorrect babble of someone who claimed to speak Sith but sounded like she’d gotten it off an old holonet translation matrix. -Why is she asking me about rainbows and meats?- Holdo blinked, was this augmented woman merely a product of mad science by the emperor programmed to think she was Sith? Or had the intolerant Jedi deceived them into internalizing anti-Sith bigotry until they lost their own language? <You mouth like slave cleaning of many houses, but eat not, flying sky chief Holdo will coerce you, of proper Bith mouthing, not like rabid cows with blinking lights and hateful Jee’dai>

“I….I..if I may Admiral” One of the Republic protocol droids finally approached the scene of confusion, sensing the hostility in the body language of the disoriented female. “The poor thing had her entire language defiled” Holdo murmured ruefully, it was almost too good to be true. Not only did she get to make contact with a displaced tribe but she could help this person discover her true heritage like her tutors on her mother’s estate used to wax nostalgically about. The droid was an interloper, but she reasoned it was probably “safer” not wanting to trigger the newly awakened victim of old core imperialism. “Very well droid”

The Protocol unit turned, it’s burgundy colored chasi catching light as it bowed. <I am C3-4P, my mistress is Amylin Holdo, Admiral of the New Republic Navy, incredulous as that may appear given her age and..ermm..faculties. But I assure you, Exar Kun was repulsed and driven to Yavin 4 where he ultimately killed himself rather than face the Justice of Nomi Sunrider who was given dominion over the Jedi Order. Much has changed since you went into your long sleep my lady. The Sith as a species met their final end during the New Sith Wars, a great conflagration that spanned a millennium. Exterminated to the last child by a Jedi from the House of Janus, since then your legacy was carried by a sect of heretics who met their end over a moon called Endor. There is none left, you are the last of your kind even your spiritual successors would have been seen as apostates by your lord Exar Kun, as they had neither his blessing nor the benediction of the spirit of Rangos. There is none left, even the Jedi who destroyed your people are now extinct> It left out, of course, that an impersonator claimed to be the artifice of her species' destruction and that the son of the man who destroyed the Jedi and Sith lived. Proclaiming himself Jedi and he had followers.

“Why were you speaking to her about Wookies and Dewbacks?” Quarried Holdo annoyed, this droid was clearly as defective as the Sith was lost. “Merely speaking her language mistress” “Don’t, its colonalist”

If the Droid could sigh, it would have. <I am instructed to speak to you, in the illiterate variant of the Sith tongue that has been passed on among the elite, forgive me, you will have to interpret what I say to you from now on or she’ll have my personality wiped>

<Automaton I will believe the proof of Kuns defeat myself when I see it, as for you neon hair…> with her free hand the woman waved it in a comical gesture but Holdo was sent face first into the ground and slid backwards like she was being propelled by an unseen power.

She continued to her objective with the captive mercenary in tow.

“Awwwww Sithspit you aren't just something they made you have the force too.”

<Why wouldn’t I be forceful Assassin? Is he this ignorant of my standing in the Brotherhood?>

“Where is hanger?” she said i basic

“Will you let me go if I tell you?”

“No you need to pilot for me I cannot go in ship without being shot down.”

“Will you let me go after?”

“Tell me where hanger is damn you!” She lifted the mercenary off the cuff of his jacket with one arm.

“Ok ok just keep going straight!”

When Holdo was knocked along the floor, the first thing she did was evaluate why the Sith woman was so violent towards her? All the Admiral was trying to do was to help her make sense of her own culture! The second thing she did was rise and immediately begin discharging blaster fire. The third thing she did was reach into her tunic and grab one of her comm signals. “Attention all personnel we have a renegade force user onboard, avoid but seal off all hangar bays and disable any transports that can be used to get off this ship!”

Turning she grabbed the nearest security officer “Stun her, as many times as you need too, kill the clone if you must and inform Earhen that his new assignment is to help me to deliver that...Thing...to the Jedi Order”

Luke Skywalker could have her, to keep or kill.

Perplexed at his commander and how the teenager went from docile to -everything must die- he gulped and ran, Holdo’s eyes were wild and unhinged as she ordered the bridge to make a blind jump into hyperspace then exit it and immediately set course and jump again to Yavin IV.

She’d heard what happened to the Imperial Captain dumb enough to wake up the last person claiming to be an ancient force user. She would not be blamed for this one running wild. “I don’t care if you have to drop our cruiser on top of the temple itself”

“Ma’am what about the rest of the fleet”

“THEY CAN MEET US THERE..JUMP..JUMP...JUMP...NOOOWWWW”

Why did men always think they could question her.

“Holdo! What the hell are you doing? This wasn’t part of my orders!” Hirog complained.

This fruit flavored idiot was going to ruin everything! If he could convince that Force user to come with him, Hiromi would have the means to challenge all the other major factions of the Galaxy!

The Woman and her captive were beset by Republic Troopers, each heavily armed at Holdos command. With a simple gesture of her free hand all of them were on the ground gasping for air as their blasterfire harmlessly deflected off of her protection bubble.

Again with her free hand she punched through the plasteel shutters cutting off the entrance to the hanger. That Neon haired wench would face her masters wrath soon...she began to notice the ship had begun moving. Damn that whores eyes, by the Left handed god she would rip her heart out.

“Can you let me go now?”

“No I still need answers from you, and I must make ugly woman with odd hair suffer.”

She began to ominously approach a wall of guards that surrounded Holdo.

As the odd pair began to approach The Vice Admiral and her honor guard the vessel suddenly lurched, exiting hyperspace as soon as it had entered it. Around them klaxons roared off, lights began to flicker off and on and the whistling protestations of Astromech droids could be heard as they were flung from the various levels of the hangar bay. Holdo was once again dropped onto her backside and flung across the deck, nearly being crushed to death by a Y-Wing that came loose from its moorings to roll around her and her guards, narrowly avoiding the golem and her hostage.

“Command! What the Kriff was that!”

“We..We did a microjump”

Holdo blinked, when had she ordered a micro-jump?! Everyone knew you never risked one of those, the momentum carried between entering hyperspace would combined with the inertia one gained from leaving it to disastrous results. The kinetics alone, were capable of snapping ships in half and fortunately, her vessel was spared that fate. But they must have hesitated, for they’d jumped only a half a lightyear and came out to a dead stop in an ultra-thick nebula, crashing into one gigantic column of methane, or at least she suspected it was methane and not helium and some other substance. The vessel’s engines ignited the column and harmless multi-colored flames passed over the windows harmlessly. -huh the flames match my hair, this must be a sign- Or perhaps the Sith would take it as such? She appeared to have been marching towards her ominously before any of this was attempted. “Plotting course to Yavin now ma’am”

“No..wai”

She spoke, too late. They made a second jump, the Y-wing shuddered and then bounced, dragging along the floor until it made a natural barrier between her and the would be Sith Assassin.

The vessel had sufficient time to warn the rest of the fleet that it would be heading to Endor, not Yavin.

Which was perhaps the will of the force, for under the duress and strain of the microjump, the sensors scrambled and Vice Admiral Amalyin Holdo, her Recusant class vessel and several billion tons of flaming nebula were all yanked through hyperspace, coming out right on top of the Republic fleet over the Sanctuary moon, the flaming gas and ionized particles smashed into their defense satellites and scrambling their early warning systems.

The recusant shuddered, dead in space.

At the heart of a burning storm, that quickly spread out across the moons orbit.

To Admiral Firmus Naantz and General Han Solo, who were having lunch together, the scene unfolding before their eyes, only meant one thing.

Somebody kriffed up.

As the rest of the fleet arrived it was confirmed.

Someone kriffed up bad.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

-Coruscant: Imperial center

She looked nervous, The Jedi turned holy woman thought. Nervous to descend into the Tarisian underworld and face many things that would remind her of her past, many things that would tempt her to call upon the dark, to indulge again in the exhaustive energies that ravaged body and soul. That was when the serpent like woman gave the taller female a hug and promised her that she would hold fast to her new convictions, because they weren't truly new. Aladar was simply, reigniting the fires in her heart of old.

They could be so easily manipulated at times, the lost wretches who fell through the cracks when short sighted subsentients sat in judgment of their natural betters. But that time, she'd hugged her because she'd meant it. More and more, she was growing attached to her apprentice, the words she'd uttered to Admiral Sloane were words from the heart, nearly spoken on impulse and only saved from looking like an outburst by her rhetorical mastery.

It wasn't that she felt this way that galled her, love, filial love was hardly a weakness. devotion to another could be as powerful as duty or conviction and when it was only when it became possessive that it debased both the force wielder and the codes they served. A thing, both the Sith and Jedi alike never understood.

No, what bothered her was how pathetic it seemed, to be awake and cling to the first comically tall cute thing that came your way because it reminded you of a daughter that died millennia ago. She could allow herself to feel, to admit to being lonely and to love others, but not so soon. That appeared weak.

And she wasn't weak, she was a hurricane of devotion to the righteousness of her own cause. She was the serpent at the end of the rainbow, the glimmering fangs in the dark.

As the Twi'lik slaves began to dress her for the company she'd invited over, Pontifex Invictus Miryia of the House Janus allowed her mind to drift in the force, sensing the moods, the movements of the great world city as she began to calculate the odds of one clever Bothan, being clever enough to see the truth behind her scales.

He'd been clever enough to entice her into rebellion, to support her rise to power while bolstering his own....He'd been smart enough to leave a copy of "memoires of the Thousand Year war" by a Hutt Jedi named Bontus Evorian.

Bontus had been a padawan the decade before the war and battled at her side for decades and had been among the few to survive to the very end when Lord Hoth sent his Army of Light to die against Skere Kaan when Jedi and Sith both were consumed.

Bontus had postulated that the war itself, was not alone the legacy of Darth Ruins madness, but that it was his madness that created an opportunity for a far more sinister intelligence to manipulate events, to guide both Jedi and Sith along the path of holocaust.

Bontus blamed the Bendu, an order that was largely extinct save for one hermit on a world filled with arachnid filth. Typical for the Hutt species, to come so close to the mark yet crash around it to a vague approximation of masterful accuracy most of their dimwitted, pawn clientele would confuse for the real thing.

And yet, Raveem leaving that...spoke to far more clarity, masquerading perhaps as an approximation.
Unless he was merely being manic and presenting her with a gift he thought she'd find interesting as it was likely the last work of a peer of hers to be published before time and the force robbed her of all her former friends.

All, save one.


For this specific occasion, Raveem had picked an outfit he had not worn for some time. It was a traditional Bothan suit woven by his mother before her mind was consumed by an extreme form of dementia. The jacket had a series of swirling patterns that contrasted well with the purple attire. Each of the circles seemed to stand on its own and had been woven directly into the fabric. He always thought the design resembled what happened inside his head. The seemingly random but beautiful circles appeared to perfectly outline his thoughts. Part of him thought that Miryia would perhaps pick up on what the outfit represented. She had seen his mind. Surely, she would be able to.

That aside, he couldn't wait to see her again. Ever since that fateful night, where he unleashed her upon the Empire's self-proclaimed leaders, he had been wanting to sit down and truly get a sense of who she was. While he had his theories and assumptions, he truly wanted to get a feeling for the Pontifex Invictus as she called herself now. There was something so fascinating and enthralling about her presence, the aura of a being so powerful she could simply snap her fingers and render him unable to defend himself. The gambit he had taken at Coruscant had paid off, now he wanted to see what it is that he had gambled with. The true character of Miryia of House Janus.

When he arrived at her palace, he couldn't help but grin. Even when he was out here, he could sense her power. He never believed himself to be Force sensitive, nor did he care to advance his abilities in the case that he was. Regardless, he had an unhealthy addiction with attempting to court beings that were levels of power above him. There was a certain thrill to it all. A certain enjoyment of putting his well-being and even his life in danger just to unleash it and see the results. Now, he only had to watch to see what Miryia could do.


The former Presidential palace rose into the midday sky, ominous and august as it always had been and yet where for centuries passed it had been largely a great museum there seemed to be a buzz of activity. Luxury speeders, ordinary speeders, military issue craft came and went, touching down to seek an audience with the woman who had stepped out of the past and into their future. Reporters from Imperial approved propaganda outfits stood eagerly outside wanting to hear the "official story" from the mouth of the woman present. After all, the report circulating was that Sate Pestage attempted to declare himself emperor and while many joined him, it was a loyal contingent of non humans martialed by the Arkanian Jedi who claimed to be the hero of the early days of the New Sith War who "rallied in defense of the Imperial Throne". The propaganda machine was spinning this two ways, one that non humans had finally proven themselves through loyalty and perhaps doors would be opened for some.

The other, a Jedi removed from Yoda's treason, from Luke Skywalker's grandiosity had at last redeemed the Order and showed true loyalty to the legacy of the Emperor healing at once the great sectarian rift between Jedi and Sith and in response Grand Vizier Hissa ordered the construction of a glorious and new order of force users that represented both ideals.

Of course, if any of these regimental mouthpieces dared to utter such offensive nonsense in her presence, Invictus Janus would have killed them instantly. Others, came armed with skepticism, desirous to see if the woman was truly the Miryia Janus of the history books and not some clone or imposter, skepticism gave way to fear, then awe which yielded to fanaticism. To a cynic this would have looked like a naked power grab, to a more trained eye something far more dangerous than mere shortsighted ambition.

As Raveem's transport grew closer to palace, it would have been obvious what she was doing, that in a time of such turmoil when all was uncertain and nothing was decided. The desperate often went renegade, the ambitious often went mad and entire civilizations could drown in hysteria, or find themselves in religion. At the dawn of the old Republic, before the holonet and hyperlane maps the Jedi had filled that role, by avoiding it entirely and creating out of the Republic a religion, venerating the Republic with the Jedi as its heralds.

Enormous banners fluttered in the wind, rising on durasteel columns covered in synth ivory and onyx, on each side blew the banner of the Galactic Empire, behind them the military insignia of each member of the armed forces that had assisted in the coup and the personal banner of House Grant, the banner of House Janus and the purple and black of Clan Vash'Ah.

Many grew silent in a mix of awe though as Miryia Farlina of House Janus, Pontifex of this new religion, the religion of Order, of absolute and eternal Justice, of Imperial law. Exited the grand doors, a long purple cape flew in the wind, black armor with the Imperial on her breast shimmered in the light as violet robes fluttered about the armor. But what none failed to notice was the new symbol, embroidered in a platinum finish over her heart. The symbol of the Jedi Order, yet silvered, the wings of the ancient phoenix were vibrant flame and a lance shot up from the center piercing the heart of the star burst pattern. Where the New Jedi Order symbol was the Jedi Phoenix and saber unfurled in a shield over the star this was a radiant fire thrusting into its heart.

The crowd gasped as an enormous banner of the same symbol unfurled falling about the castle, resting above the entry of the main gates in a deep blue.

"Welcome! Sub Director General of Imperial the Imperial Security Bureau! Raveem of clan Vash'Ah! The only soul with the clarity of mind to see what treachery befell us! A credit to non human citizens and a champion of Order, Imperial Justice!"

Her eyes flickered like gems, whether an artifice of the force or through Arkanian genetic engineering, her voice boomed across the palace grounds. "Patriot! Hail and well met!" she called, giving the traditional core world elite greeting.

In that moment, between self destruction and devotion, the Serpent turned Jedi, turned zealot pushed madness through and religion was written in the eyes of Coruscant.

The Religion of the Empire.

The crowd outside of the Presidential Palace was larger than Raveem was expecting. There were reporters and members of the public standing behind barriers guarded by soldiers. But that was small compared to the display before him. That had gotten his full attention, and he realized this must have been Miryia's plan. To surprise him with this magnificent display before the masses. So, this was the religion Janus had spoken about. The replacement for the Jedi Order and the Sith. The Bothan covered his mouth, supressing the urge to giggle as he felt a sudden rush of joy. His gambit had paid off. All his efforts had ended in all this. A new and reformed Empire. Once he had composed himself and done the appropriate waving for the Holonet cameras, he approached Miryia. Taking at look at her outfit, he immediately picked up on the purple patterns used by his Clan. By the look on his face, that little detail had caught him off guard. If it was someone else, perhaps they would have missed it. But Miryia had enough experience to see it. His right eye twitched twice, and his left index finger tapped the side of his thigh. It was too specific to be a normal reaction.

"Hail and well met, indeed Invictus Janus!" He replied, giving her a short bow. The greeting was done in his usual extravagant fashion. "Quite the display you have arranged here." The Bothan remarked, glancing at the different banners displayed around the palace's entrance.

-So this pattern, is that his mind?- She'd touched the edges, the border of his psyche not wanting to utterly maul his essence and sense of self for she'd always had trouble with more subtle mental probing, but what she encountered inside was akin to a nebula on fire or an ion storm or an exploding black hole. a whirling vortex of order within the patterns of unbridled chaos. He was truly fascinating, if a bit grasping and dangerous, in many ways he reminded her of a drug addict yet unlike the Sith. His was a fortified mind, an addict who gained function in dysfunction and what would normally be an affront to her presence became something of admired curiosity. As he no doubt wanted to observe her in action, so too did she.

His eyes took in the display, grasping its obvious intent and seeing beyond. -Now you understand why the throne does not interest me?- her goals, her grand plan commenced two thousand years ago, was perhaps a century away from its end game. -I slept for too long, things flowed without me-

"I thought it was high time you beheld the majesty of your work" she turned, her body seeming to twist as one and she began to walk ahead, leading him through a grand entrance flanked by members of the 501st, each standing at parade style attention. "Aladar and my old friend are not with us, I've them hunting in Coruscant's underworld. Shame that you did not bring that radiation fried behemoth of yours, it would have been edifying for your creature" Raveem may have been force sensitive, Miryia realized, now more than ever. But she felt herself stop at probing that issue, as if teaching him to refine and smith the essence would detract from his true glory. Somehow, making him lesser.
"As for gifts, I appreciated yours" She leaned in slightly and whispered that in his ear, noting the subtle twitches in his body language that gave away how much the gesture affected him, playing the dangerous game he too played. "Though, I wonder if it was truly a gift and more"

The doors closed behind her and a subtle glance made the Twi'liks bow and leave. "If it wasn't a question, Sub Director"

When Miryia leaned in and referenced his gift, he felt a strange warm feeling in his chest. It made his ears twitch and his body trembled a little. What a strange sensation. He had always felt joy in the presence of beings such as Miryia. It was thrilling to sense their power and witness their feats. But this was different. Something to think about later. Miryia saw it, him briefly losing that composure he so carefully crafted for himself. Perhaps, if that mask was removed, his mannerisms and voice would make him sound deranged. One had to wonder what the real Raveem behaved like. What was under those layers of organized chaos in his mind and ISB training and indoctrination.

"Perhaps it was too on the nose?" Said Raveem, more to himself than anything. As they walked, he turned to look at Miryia. There it was, that warm feeling his chest again. Odd. "I thought you would appreciate the gesture. A prelude to this..." He spun around, gesturing at rhe great hall around them. "...greatly anticipated meeting. It cost someone his hard earned treasure, mind you. Poor sod owed me a debt." Raveem giggled after saying that. For a moment, he was there. Prying the tome away from a poor merchant's hands who had bought favors from his family to keep his business afloat in Bothawui. Was it petty? Yes. But necessary if the Vas'ha's were to keep their reputation.

"From the smallest family in a shack in the hills of Bothawui to stars, knowledge moved by direction, move by ambition" Miryia's voice held an almost cheery tone as she came close to singing those words out in her usual melodic voice, only where in public it held an imperiousness to it that was measured by compassion. Here, hints of the madness within intermingled with that image of a noble Knight of old. As if something, bestial was tiring of the ruse and wanting to strike at whatever it could.

"I believe that was the clan phrase of the Vash'Ah in my youth." She remarked attempting to sift through the long years of memory hidden behind a youthful face to find the name of the Bothan of Clash Vash'Ah she'd protected as a Padawan, whose views on the stagnation of the Republic and even the Jedi kindled something in an idealistic youth.

Idealism, she'd fought for it once, bled for it once. Even through the dark, when she brushed against Sith doctrine, Sith power, when the profane material whispered to her in the night, she'd held strong. She was once a great Jedi, she'd cared for the code and devoted herself to the light as some savage worshipping a powercell from a ruined ship crashed down on a primitive world. Now she was something else, a true warrior for the Light, the light of civilization, of order. -All those provincial simpletons who could have continued the great works in my absence.- "a bit too on the nose" Raveems words cut her from her thoughts and purple eyes flickered to him, dangerously at first. -Does he truly see?- his second phrasing seemed to imply it was a mere flight of fancy and yet below the conditioning and training she sensed..an awareness.

"Bontus, when we first met he was no taller than my thigh, by the end of his life I hear he grew six times the size of an ordinary Hutt"
As they moved across synth marble floors, passing busts of Republic heroes long dead and Imperial military leaders, they arrived at a room as large as some Coruscant penthouses, a veritable treasure trove of water and plants in laser lit fountains appeared before them. Water, which on Coru was valuable as it was on Tatooine, more than aurodium, it spoke to the wealth the Empire still possessed...the old capital still possessed.

"The Hutts I have observed, have an interesting habit of coming exasperatingly close to the truth only to fall slightly short of the mark" And there. She'd done it, the one secret only The Highsinger if not outright confirmed, implied. They were in each other's webs now, Raveem was privy to a thing that was supremely dangerous, a truth that bound him to her, as it bound her to his ascent.

It was a truth, the woman whose cape hugged about her body like a cobras hood would try to annihilate every living soul on Coruscant if she had too, to conceal.

Or...proclaim to the stars.

"Tell me, what do you know of Ewoks?" She proffered, changing the subject as they neared a table and a pair of chairs. Her eyes flickered with a silent mirth. Oh, how she enjoyed playing a game of words and hints with someone who wasn't genetic trash.
"Or more specifically, how tenuous do you believe The New Republics alliance with that particular tribe to be?" Here she took a seat, her hips bent and she leaned at a slight angle, reclining, her cheek resting upon knuckles. "And what do you know if the Nightsisters gathering at a Castle therein?"

Slowly a feral smile crept over her face "And what do you know of Gorax?"

The Bothan froze for a moment. So it was true. Any and all doubts in his mind had vanished. He stared at Miryia as she kept on walking without him, sitting down at a nearby table. Raveem giggled as everything in his head clicked. He had to hold himself back and compose himself before joining her at the table. When he sat down, Miryia saw him wince the moment his back touched the backrest. That blaster wound from all those days ago was probably still bothering him.

"Ah, the Ewoks. A proud and primitive race of cuddly little bears with enough firepower, it seems, to take down Stormtroopers who underestimared them. I like to think that it eas their cuteness that caused all this. It is funny to think about. The mighty Empire defeated at the hands of a primitive tribe and a group of Rebel infiltrators. A hard earned lesson." Raveem's eyes darted around as he spoke. His thought process was fascinating to look at. He seemed to speak while at the same time recalling sounds, images and touch. Every word was marked by a unique movement of the hands. He physically grasped at concepts and used his hands to help explain whatever he was saying. There was a brief pause.

"The Gorax!" Raveem shouted, standing up and making himself seem as big as possible. "Big, strong, and very dangerous. The Ewoks have been fighting for years. Which lead me to believe that the Ewoks respect strength. Their hardships. The survival skills required to survive in the forests of Endor. It had defined their culture and their mindset. They respect the Rebels for their struggle against the Empire."
Raveem paced around the table, and pointed toward one of the windows.

"We must... we must present ourselves before them differently. Their allegiance to the Rebels was based on mutual respect. They must be shown that the Rebels are treacherous and dishonorable. And that the Empire are true honorable warriors." Raveem turned to Miryia, a grin plastered on his face. "Will we take Endor, then?"

The Bothan seemed to omit the question about the Nightsister. He seemed more preocupied with the potential acquisition of Endor than with some witch.

As the Bothan took a seat, The former Jedi turned religious leader watched his body language with the same aloof gaze she'd always maintained when assessing others. His reactions surprised her, she expected a surprised murmur, horror perhaps and if he'd been a fool glorification of what she considered to be an unfortunate necessity to redeem the Galaxy and purify it of the heresies and failures of the sanctimonious hypocrites within the temples and palaces and dusty halls of a hundred different force using cults whose blood, sins and bad ideas went into the creation of the Jedi and Sith, the lost orders as she would henceforth call them. But what Raveem reacted with was more, the childlike excitement of a madman or a researcher whose theories were proven right, or proven wrong in a more exciting and opportune manner.

Behind their chair fountains shifted their laser display to match the changing of the Coruscanti skies, dancing in darker greens and blues as the sun began to set. The whirring servos of the protocol Droid interrupted the silence between her query in regards to the Ewoks and the scion of Clan Vash'Ah's reaction. A bronze tray was set down with a glowing pink liquid within an ornately carved decanter made of Arkanian crystal woven with stained glass patterns and affixed at the top with inlay of white aurodium.. The content of the bottle was a rare Alsakan brandy laid down in its casks only once every half millennia. The cost of such a liqueur could equip an ISD battlegroup and provision it for a month, that Miryia was able to acquire suggest that she'd been allowed to resume her position in the dynastic hierarchy of House Janus. Or, that her own assets and wealth had been wisely managed and invested for two millennia by the IBC, or that the moment Sate Pestage gave the Arkanian Jedi access to a computer terminal was the moment the Galaxy's richest gained a new member.
Or perhaps all of the above.

She did, after all, need to bring something of her own to the table beyond her charm and power.
As Raveem spoke and danced about the room almost the woman leaned back in her chair, purples eyes flickering with consternation but not quite disappointment. As though she was content that he'd seen what he'd seen of her plans for Endor and guessed a fair approximation. "The Imperial troopers shot them for sport, something some Ewok tribes took no offense at. Being that they are a culture of barbarian killers who, as you note have had their entire being shaped by warfare and the dangers of the Endorian wilderness. However, it seems the early landing facilities for the construction of the shield generation and some of said Generators barracks rested over a sort of, warriors monument" Miryia allowed that to hang in the air, after the victory at Endor the Ewoks butchered and ate and ritualistically slaughtered some two thousand members of the Five Hundred and first and while the particular tribe the Rebels befriended respected them. A peace loving, democratic people they were not.

"The Ewoks are masters of jungle and forest warfare, they've faced the Gorax for centuries and when they win they murder Gorax infants in their cribs. Ewok tribal chieftains are known for spitting the infants of their rivals in other tribes ..Had the Empire not defiled their monument, it is likely that even your thoughtless, Sith pretender of an Emperor would have been able to sway them to your side" Miryia raised a few of her slender fingers and the glowing liquid began to float from within the pitcher, up its neck and then from the mouth into two aurodium goblets with crystal cups. While she absolutely would not serve someone who wasn't her social superior or equal by hand, she would grant Raveem the honor of service of another sort.

As he began to speak of convincing them the Empire represented strength Miryia chuckled "Perhaps not to that degree, we need only convince the other tribes and then call a conclave with that particular tribe that aligned with the Rebels. It is my understanding the Skywalker...abominations...Protocol droid mistakenly..or deliberately claimed the Rebels came to Endor to Punish the Emperor for his many dishonors, which they did. But not the Ewok's, prove that they were used, their honor, the bones of their fathers exploited to use their vendetta to serve a political end and I believe they will demand the Republic Depart Endor" Her eyes flickered when Raveem asked if they were going to take Endor.

She leaned forward and her violet eyes flickered. "No, I am going to take Endor, this mongrel Charal is playing with a power she does not even know she possesses and I wish to understand Nightsister sorcery, the Five Hundred and First, the One Hundred and Fourth and you, my dear secret policeman...shall prove once again that non humans can be a bonus to the Empire by handing it victories its not seen since Endor" then she paused and leveled her gaze at Raveem and a voice whispered in the winds -What things we shall achieve, what works we shall forge-

"I mean to turn the entire system into a bastion, a holy citadel for the Imperial Knights, a center of faith..for now..for our flagging people and I intend to gift our dear Grand Vizier Hissa with a rather lovely staging point at the new Republics back and..towards the outerrim"

Her smile narrowed into a feral smirk and her body seemed to tighten and coil and a long, soft hiss escaped her nostrils and throat.

Now why, would an empire of the core wish to over extend themselves? In Darth Vader's old palace, the chief Spymaster, Ysane Isard was asking herself the same question and coming to the wrong conclusion.

Or perhaps the proper one.

"You're not a proponent of Bacta tanks?" Miryia added, reclining her eyes flickered to his posture, how he seemed to be favoring one part of his back over the other. We all pay a price in blood for our convictions, she thought, some paid that price in body, others in mind, some in soul.

Raveem stopped pacing the moment Miryia began to speak. He listened intently, finding his storm of thoughts go silent momentarily as he picked apart Miryia's words. This Nightsister she had mentioned earlier. For the first time he found himself at a loss. After a quick scan of his memories he couldn't recall a Charal. Was there something he had missed? A detail he had simply forgotten? Impossible. While the Bothan knew of the Nightsisters he wasn't aware of their presence on Endor. If Miryria sought to learn from them however, he couldn't wait to witness it. But, they were an unknown variable to him. That train of thought suddenly came to a halt the moment she mentioned his injury. He instinctively corrected his posture, but that was a mistake. A shot of piercing pain hit him across his back and neck. It wasn't too bad. He had been trained by the ISB to resist pain, but, the injury was admittedly interfering with some of his duties and noticeable to the trained eye.

"Well..." For the first time, Miryia spotted hesitation in his words. "When one is busy preparing for upcoming events, and those preparations keep you awake at night. It is easy to ignore the nagging needs of the flesh. I didn't see it as important enough."

As he spoke, Raveem picked up the glasses with the Alsakan brandy, he offered one of the glasses to the Arkanian. That little mistake had thrown his mind into a frenzy. What could have perhaps been a gesture of his loyalty to her became open to interpretation. His neglect to attend to an injury could have jeopardized Miryia's grand plan. And now, this small gesture could have been seen as a desperate act to ask for forgiveness. But by the time Raveem realized all this, it was too late.

Her head canted, violent eyes flickered with keen interest and perhaps concern? -He overthought- she realized, focusing entirely too much on the problems he could solve (Though an important trait for his trade, though stifling if one wished to follow her beyond a mere, supreme commander of deathsquads). The Pontifex watched as that mind raced from euphoria, to despondency, crashing like a Hutt's sail barge piloted by an intoxicated Dug. -He suffers from some sort of neuro-chemical mania?- she wondered, harkening back to her original assessment of him as a functioning addict. Much of his inner thinking reminded her of stim junkies and yet he was debilitated by it at all.

Order in the chaos.

He twitched again, realizing that his misstep with her commentary on the Nightsisters resulted in him being caught off guard by her observation. The woman's eyes flashed again, this time they were chiding, reprimanding but they held no disappointment. Concern for a colleague, solidarity and reminder not to slip? A gesture of friendship? Whatever was behind those eyes shifted into near, appreciation for his sense of decorum.

The Pontifex took the goblet, holding it in her hand appraisingly, allowing the moment to extend, permeating the room with her awareness, sensing the conflict the roiled within. Miryia rose and slowly took a drink from the glass. He was no weakling to make such a gesture in a pathetic attempt to save face for showing "weakness" and to worry about showing such a thing to her was where the insult came, she was no small time predator.

And he was no coward.

"A son of Clan Vash'Ah is of far too superior stature to conceal a blaster burn for fear of weakness. You debase yourself, in doing so, you defame your work, your achievements." She set the glass down, then moved her hand to trace across the Bothan's shoulder as she walked towards one of the fountains.

"When I was seventeen, I earned my Knighthood, my master a Dreathos known as Croo wept with joy. He said I'd broken some sort of record, but given the sheer age of the Jedi order I find that dubious...Still..to a teenaged girl who'd come to love an inferior as though he were a second father, well I too wept" The words, far away, her voice soft, nostalgic. As though she was choosing to show another side to herself, though whether to galvanize Raveem as she would a follower, or to simply show him a part of herself as recompense and to hammer her prior point home with a parable was hard to tell.

For a brief moment though, in the flickering of the sunset and the prismatic effect of the lasers on water, one might have been able to see the idealistic, wide eyed, gentle Knight and stout hearted warrior she was. "For a year we wandered the outer rim and the unknown regions he and I. For a year we righted wrongs, faced dangers and held together broken peoples and mended broken worlds. We were set upon by a clique of beings powerful in the force an inner darkness I'd never seen before"

The honor, perhaps dubious as it was, would have been given only to two others. History remembers the death of Jedi master Croo as one of the moments that led up to the New Sith Wars, as with his death the Jedi moved from deliberative slowness to the indolence and cowardice that allowed for the rise of Darth Ruin several decades later. But here, Raveem would be the third sentient to know what truly transpired. "I was injured, I concealed it, as you did at first, out of shame and then out of distraction and in the final battle, that injury slowed my thoughts, slowed my flesh and clouded my wits"

Miryia's eyes met the flickered pools of water a grimness about them. "Allies do not conceal their flaws, their injuries from each other Raveem of Clan Vash'Ah, it is how they betray themselves and in doing so, betray the glory of our cause" She turned now and walked forwards him. Her features imperious but lacking of any scorn and possessing. perhaps an approximation of empathy. "In death, my master taught me the most valuable lessons he'd ever taught me. The most paramount of which is that righteousness comes not free and without pain"

His shame was needless, this was an acceptable cost of doing business as they said, or so she conveyed. "I too have bled in the service of absolute justice"

"And I've no doubt we'll both pay that price again and again. So long as the heretics, the traitors, the fools and the sycophants bleed a thousand times our blood, so long as our sacrifice makes a better world, it is not weakness"

Raveem's mind was racing. Thousands of thoughts, memories and other information were flying at light speed through his mind. But there it was again, Miryia's voice. Hearing her made the storm dissipate, and once again she had his full attention. When she approached him, Raveem instictively took a step back but he managed to not make it obvious. The training he had been given by the ISB was starting to kick in. However, he put all that to rest. He managed to wrest control of those instincts. When she briefly touched him, it made him tremble. Once more he felt that hot feeling in his chest. These new feelings were completely foreign to him. And while he would never express it out loud, he didn't understand them.

At that moment, she told him a deeply personal story. By the way she spoke and met his gaze, he could tell that only a tight circle of trusted confidants knew about this. There was something in her voice and movements that made it obvious. Even as she walked off toward the fountain, he could still feel the sensations from earlier. The pain was gone now, replaced by a sudden surge of curiosity by her final words. She was right. The road to their goal would be soaked in blood and littered with sacrifices. Part of him strongly believed he wouldn't live this through this. But right now, all he could do was agree. Taking a sip from the brandy, he took a few steps in her direction. Briefly, that usual mad stare he had vanished. For once, he may have passed as just another Bothan...

"You're right." He said softly, glancing at the marbled floors for a moment. "It is beneath me. Something I will unlearn for the sake of the cause. My ancestors did not stand where I am now. In an environment in which they could simply trust others to not take advantage of their weaknesses. I can assure you, it will never happen again."

"I was bodyguard to a progenitor of yours once as a child. Strange, how one moment of rhetoric can make such an impact but I cannot recall his name" Her eyes gave no indication that she'd noticed the change, but the slight twinge in her facial features denoted an approval, both of the revelations welling within him and because the shock of her gesture seemed to have steadied his mind if only for a fleeting moment or so.

"If we look back to our history, it's no wonder why the Sith continue to plague us! Why Jedi and Republic alike have been brought so close to utter ruination by them more than once!" Her voice grew in a richness, an intensity, she did her best to mimic the intensely slurred nature of the high class Bothan, who was a firebrand known for delivering his political speeches like sermons and was almost always intoxicated.

The drunkenness' seemed to add a dimension of reality to his warnings. Warnings which events five decades from that speech would prove prophecy. "We overcome our enemies only to rest on our laurels, we recover from calamity, a burning crucible only to allow our metal to settle and rust. We stagnate, while they reinvigorate and they too, begin to stagnate and on and on it goes for neither of us wish for something new. There is comfort in the cycle.."

That last bit applied in the end, to Palpatine too,deformed thug that he was meeting his end when he attempted to lord power over a weaker being in direct contravention of all his order of pathetic heretics stood for. Her posture returned to normal and a look of annoyance flashed over her eyes at the pitiful self indulgence, of even mimicking the accent as if she was no better than a common rube. Whatever she was going to say was murdered in her breast as she craned her head towards the Bothan noting the elevation in heart rate and intensity, this was more than mere revelation.

But before she could draw attention to his nascent infatuation the twin Twi'lik brought in a man who looked like he'd been left in a room with a particularly horny Wompa. While he was dressed in the blood colored dress uniform of the Crimson Guard, his face a mess of swollen tissue and was propped up more by the servants than his own bones.

Then they left and he began to slump over only to be caught by an invisible force and he groaned in agony as a broken leg was set so he could be forced to one knee. "Do Bothans of your era still value the ancient blood oaths?"

Tonight seemed to be filled with the oddest of sensations and occurrences. For a moment Raveem swore that his mind had cleared and his thoughts were once again in order. But that was brief. Soon the storms returned and his attention turned to something else. Miryia's servants brought in another soul. The Bothan's first reaction was to approach him to get a better look. Upon closer inspection, the wounds weren't done by his agents. No, they would have been more precise and permanent. Nothing a bacta tank could fix without significant scarring. It piqued his curiosity.

"I don't believe the guest and I have been properly introduced." He bowed in the man's direction, before turning to Miryia with a smile. "Would you indulge my curiosity first? I do like to meet new people, especially ones with an interesting backstory."

For a second, the Jedi turned holy warrior raised an eyebrow "Truly" she began, only to find herself laughing softly, that vicious, half feral laugh from before. "Animal" she hissed and the man winced and raised his head "Y...yes..m'lady?" her eyes flickered with malice, was he extending learned courtesy and addressing a superior form of life and social baring? Or had he just conflated her for a Sith..again.... "The Cervid asked you a question" Her tone was absolute, final, dripping with contempt. "I'm..I'm Captain Jhado..of the Crimson guard..the..Emperor's" "That deformed catamite is dead..." "Sate Pestage..m'lady" "That twitching, simpering, diseased commoner is also rotting in a waste dispenser unit" Oh a casket had been given a funeral, but to hammer the point home Grand Vizier Hissa insisted on declaring a post mortem treason sentence after a farce of a trial where Miryia was forced to "arbitrate". Among her more unsavory duties, but one she endured for the sake of deferring to the man who was their leader after all. "Why are you on your knees before me as opposed to serving in Grand Vizier Hissa's honor guard?"

The man said nothing, until he caught a look of her eyes and he panted before answering "Because..I...I do not serve Xenos nor their Jedi whores! The Galaxy belongs to the Sith you vile witch! Your time has passed"

My time? She thought; her eyes beaming with something, deep, twisted and blazing. this is my time you fool!

Raveem stood there, giggling madly at himself as he witnessed the exchange. Yes. This is what he was here to see. The results of Miryia's cleansing of the Empire. It was beautiful to witness and he honored to be there to see it all unfold. Of course, this was small but every bit counts. After all, it is the small things that bring about the biggest of changes. Or so his father told him... or his uncle... or his cousin twice removed. He couldn't remember.

"Oh!" Suddenly Raveem recalled Miryia's previous question. "Why yes. The Vas'ah's have always kept to the old traditions. Ar'krai..." The Bothan shot a hungry gaze at Jhado. At that moment, Miryia could have thought that the Bothan was about to leap in and finish off what someone else had started. Instead, the Bothan simply approached him positioning himself behind the man.

"Shall I dare ask... Why?" There it was... that dangerous curiosity that served as fertile ground for his equally dangerous strategies. Perhaps it was this curiosity that made him make that fateful decision back then.

Ah yes, the predator comes forward, watching Raveem conduct himself, his thought processes it was akin to watching the tidal surges of a singularity that was beginning to form inside a nebula. an endless haze of chaos roiling around a centered anchored in a sea of darkness. She'd waited for him to answer her original question, an honor she seldom bestowed, but one she was willing to do in tribute to a man whose madness and curiosity belied a need to correct the flaws of the one center for absolute justice and order in the known universe. "In my youth I witnessed a wretched old Sith draw the life force out of his own child to buy himself a century of life, if such a pitiful existence could be called that. Their essence draining techniques often left the life thief addicted, intoxicated and slowly weakening. Their lives going shorter and shorter with each theft. In the days before dogma, indolence, arrogance and stagnation overran the Jedi, they're alchemy permitted one of sufficient mastery to rob life from plants, trees and in dire emergencies animals. While this was done to regenerate grievous injury the more, proficient masters learned that it had begun to retard their aging, adding hours, days, sometimes months with every deed. It had no negative effect on them...Beyond the conflict with their philosophy. It is thoroughly unpleasant and exhausting either way...Though easier with sentient life"

Which was the problem for the Sith and summarized their laziness, their arrogance and ultimately, their stupidity.

"Of course the Sith, ever the cowards, feared death more than anything and it did not occur to them that sentient life could be harnessed the same as an animals when brain function began to diminish" slowly she extended her left hand, her index and middle finger pointed forward. Sith lacked the focus to do such a thing and only Jedi healers partook in what she was about to do with any regularity.
Miryia's fingers twitched, if one were force sensitive and present one would have seen a shadow obscure her face only for the light to come roaring out of her body, enveloping the shadow, burning it, scalding it, mutilating it and..reforming it.

Jhado's throat opened "Die then vermin and be at once with your masters..and in death, serve their executioners!" blood gurgled and sputtered from his throat and nostrils, from his mouth and he seemed to be held in place solely by her will.

Her right hand reached out, tracing the outlines of her fingers along Raveems snout, allowing the stolen life force to pass from Jhado to her being, her cells and the bulk to Raveem, mending the wound on his back and perhaps adding a decade or so to his life. "This my Ar'Kai, the blood pledge of a force wielder A force-wright not a mere puppet of raw material..a servant to a cosmic energy source"

Her eyes flashed, she stood drawing herself up as Jhado's corpse was tossed away, blown across the courtyard and flung out into the refuse heap.

"And that, is what I shall do to the heretic, the deceiver, the liar, the carrion eaters, the cynics and idolater..to the embezzler, the coward and low predators...And to every single force wielder in this universe that does not accept my gospel..the Gospel of Imperial justice..That is my blood oath to ..you...to every sentient in the known universe!"

All Raveem could do at that moment was stare in awe. He had to keep himself from drooling. From what little he knew... Raveem could tell this was a corruption of the Force that would shake even its most extremist of practitioners. It brought him joy to see Miryia in action. He grinned and held back laughter as he felt the captain's life force enter him the moment Miryia's touched his snout. A few moments passed between that and his reaction. The Bothan stood there in complete silence, staring out into the distance. Slowly, he reached for his snout as Miryia dictated the terms of their blood oath. He then reached for his back and midsection, the pain was gone and so was the soreness in his back.

"It will be an honor, Invictus Janus. I can imagine... no, I see it. The true New Order. Your vision for the Galaxy... it is truly glorious. Order in the chaos." He smirked, glancing outside to the city and back at Miryia. "I have never felt this way..." Remarked Raveem after a moment of silence, more as an off-hand remark. "

Miryia Farlina of House Janus, Pontifex Invictus of the Imperial remnant allowed herself to sink into the inferno she'd created within the force, about her she could feel a bleed, a sort of tear where the energies of light and dark mingled, a bleed growing more and more intense, saturating her very cells and, pushing the limit of her being, threatening to overwhelm her senses.

Yet, this was the grand test, the moment where her crucible became an immense forge galvanizing the impure to produce magnificently sharpened, polished steel or ruptured and consumed its smith in flames and slag. For the briefest of moments it would have looked to outside observer like she was hyperventilating and a flicker of fear washed over her face. She swayed, but refused to buckle, buckling meant being consumed by the force, becoming a sentient wound.

That was for weaklings like Surik and mindless gluttons. It was not for a scion of house Janus nor the Master of the Order of Imperial Knights, nor the religious leader of a nation. Fists clenched as she visualized the tear in her mind, felt the ripping seams along her very soul and through them began to trace astral fingertips along the unraveling threads of the force.

It was time!

Her force of will clamped down. she held firm onto the reaction and bore down with all her might, forcing the cascading energies to slow to a halt, to congeal, to shudder and...to take shape, a shape guided by her will alone.

Blood vessels ruptured, flesh tore but she used the errant energies, the bleed off to mend them and focused on the roiling wound until at last in one final flash of sparks..it cauterized around her and cooled within her until the bleeding clotted and began to mend.

All this may have transpired in an instant, the only evidence of her titanic struggle was a single drop of purple blood that fell onto the knuckle of her index finger.
"Nor have I" she conceded at last to Raveem, her voice was almost youthful, exuberant and her eyes flickered with a deadly certitude.

"Now, to Endor we must...go" she let out in a hissing breath.

To the second act of this long play.

@TheWatchDog

Rhan felt a great pain in the force...but rather then having it coming from the darkness like strikes of lightning in a dark storm evaporating and perverting all it consumed like in the the purge...it was akin to a star going nova...an atrocity done in the name of the light a shade fanaticism and zeal so explosive so destructive it was not unlike the stories he read of Jedi foolish enough to follow the pius dea crusades from eons ago.

Those same Jedi eventually evolved or he should say devolved into the order of the terrible glare, like this creature mocking the essence of life itself now the order resorted to unholy techniques within the force to take revenge upon the Jedi Vindicators hunting for the perceived betrayers of the order. Likewise even the Jedi Vindicators gave into their own fanatic whims and started dispensing justice...without compassion and evolved into the Guild of Vindicators, and like the Vindicators additionally this being echoed the same feelings of extravagance and self righteousness.It was as if something was warping the two ideologies into one..he had to tell his Alliance allies of this threat somehow.

On another world of scorched and battered land a tall and tangled tree surrounded and worshiped by primitives began to stir in reaction to this imbalance within the force. It had been eons since he had felt such a disturbance, not since the onslaught of the Great Sith Wars, the Dark Wars, The Galactic wars, the subsequent pall of madness emanating from a warped mind not unlike this being, the massive outpouring of hatred afterwards that went on an eon later or even the shroud of Darkness that clouded his foresight for a time more recently. He had vowed he would protect these Lightsabers below him from evil...this being echoed with a type of grey zeal not unlike what was of the Jedi Vindicators or old mixed with religious fanaticism of the pius dea...when the time came this creature would not have its way with his secrets much like Exar Kun before them.

A man in jet black armor stood on a dark throne in a massive tomb long abandoned...it was the Lair of his...Warb Null’s Masters Freedon Nadd and his descendant King Ommin. The Call of the Dark Side was strong on this moon for two decades he had squatted here shielded by the Dark Side from outsiders. He had felt that woman before in Onderon’s orbit, the force was strong in this...thief, it was the only word for how she had perverted the force in such a way. She imitated Sith magic but clung to her pathetic morals and sense of “Justice” to embrace its true power. “Drunkards and addicts” the woman thought of our history, she is an insane coward in denial of what she truly was and what power is. She still clung to the foolish ideals of the Jedi while flirting with the truth King Adas and Nadd showed him, the weak die and the strong survive. He would wait this pretender out and see if she rises or falls before seeking to challenge her mad campaign.

A man with white hair awoke from his sleep in a cold sweat...at a glance he looked like some kind of aging smuggler in a tank top but he had a secret...he was once a Jedi Master...before the Dark Times, before the Empire. This feeling was different from the shroud of the dark side the Emperor had unleashed, no it was...a brightness but it felt totally wrong. Like it wasn’t truly natural, it was like something of the Dark Side but it lacked the malice and hatred. It was as if someone had made a disturbance within the force and methodically...repaired it as if it was just simply a tool to be used, not an essential component of existence. That kind of lantant disregard chilled him.

Concealed within the Kathol rift, entities who’d long begun to view the nature of the force as a deep sea of energies, each with its own wave pattern armored, weasel like sentients roused themselves from their contemplative silence. Gazing out into the night sky, assaulted by a deluge of gold and silver. Their harmonious, rainbow like pools of power drowned in a deluge of extremes. For an instant they were blinded, then they howled in agony as their senses were blinded by the fury of a dark that was burned and twisted, perverted against its will. They shuddered, steeling themselves against a mind depraved enough to seek to twist that which was alive into not but substance and it seemed to them that they were watching the work of a smith who wrought terrible wonders from that which was once vibrant and made burning light from gentle luminosity.

Deep within dead mansions on Drommund Kaas, powerful psychics, exiles and heretics sensed the burning light which inundated their senses and burned the dark. A dark that screamed with an intensity as if the whole of its unknowable, twisted intellect was disrupted by the pain of the crucible. Animals rose from slumber, screaming only to die convulsing in agony and bafflement, visions assaulted them of a tomorrow that would never come and of a legion of Knights armed with silver sabers charging into the breaches on a thousand worlds. Of Sith and Jedi alike battling for survival against a Jihad that would make the Pius Dae cult look like a small scale brushfire. A serpent coiled about the heart of the force and prophets screamed or thrust themselves into their perverse rituals in an attempt to avert this calamitous future. All save one, who looked into the skies and regarded the coming storm with a more measured concern. No, he thought, it would not be their time to intervene nor reveal themselves just. At least not openly, not while the being he now knew was their ancient enemy, the instigator who brought about the obliteration of the Sith and near extinction of the Jedi remained living.

On a wasted cityscape a ragged old woman sat on the side of the street begging but it was suddenly interrupted as she suddenly fell over as if she had suffered a stroke.

“Ahhh! Jedi...but not Jedi Vima does not know what madness she felt!” She mumbled to herself somewhat confused at what transpired as she picked herself back up from the psychic shock. It wasn’t of the Dark Side but it was an abuse of the Natural Balance of the force...like the Jedi Vindicators or the Je’daii of old who would casually partake in Alchemy that molded and changed beings. Could her age old sins be forgiven or should she simply wait out yet another time of great dying once again?

A loud scream was felt in the force and as suddenly as it was heard was silenced, a being as old as her recognized such a technique. Xendor showed her once one of the techniques of the old order back when they were beginning on Tython experimenting and discussing the nature of the Force.

This melder was similar but her intent was...warped it stank of the self righteousness of the Jedi but wielded the moves and abilities of her predecessors. Could she be one of her foes from before but twisted by the ages? Something new? The ancient wondered, she barely escaped Zaarin’s failure and defeat but found refuge in the arms of that thug Devian. He cared nothing for the force or even his own men simply furthering his own ambitions, she had seen men like him come and go, his fallen master Palpatine; the Darth Sidious was no better.

He was a fool blind to the force who simply thought it as just another tool in his arsenal like any other lousy weapon. Which was the only reason the fool tolerated her and Durrei, he was overconfident as his master was. Arden stomached the indignity of working under a half baked warlord like Devian, it beat living on the run or having to listen to that...thing in the core.

What little she could make of the being it was a nonhuman, at least Devian’s little propaganda machine could work on recruiting more into an army so he can have someone to man the aging war machines in his planetary storehouse.

It felt a disruption...it was not its master it still heard silence from his domain...strange it expected his victory to be total. The Jedi were reeling from Ossus’s devastation, there was no way...it felt the signatures of several beings...one was strangely neutral in the living force it could barely make it out the others were irrelevant. But this disturbance was not of her Master; it was a poor imitation of his immense power. It was attempted to cling to the light while tapping into the unnatural ends of the Force…Free me...destroy the pretender to the throne of the Sith’s revived Empire…

The capsule inside the Maria began to shake violently.

“Hirog did you do something?”

“No! Holdo what the hell did you do? I told you not to open the stangged thing!”

“I-Why are you blaming me?”
Crap I gotta get this on the ship before it breaks open or something!

He heard a disturbance in the force...another rival arose to take the Throne this one sought to rule adjacent to it...how droll. He wore a leather band over the empty reeses that normally hold eyes, but his true sight was with the force. This rumor that a “Jedi” had taken the throne and killed his former mentor in the Dark side was a disturbing turn of events..but one he could turn to his advantage. He was warned of Blackhole of her power in the Force but it was no matter...he would have omnipotence no matter what when he found his quarry...the Jedi Rahn.

On a isolated world a elderly Sunesi surrounded by multiple Droids could feel the echo within the force being created and sealed like it was a wound being seared shut.

“Master what is it?” One of the droids inquired...implying they could actually feel the living force like an organic being could.

“I do not know...not since the Arkanian revolution had I felt such an affront to the Force itself.” He was Aqinos a Jedi master long before the Clone Wars exiled for his belief inorganic sentient's could touch the force as a living being could. He found a silicon based species the Shard and mentored them in the ways of the force and gave them possession of Droid bodies they were his Iron Knights. Not since the Clone Wars were they more motivated to act...

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

<Snipped quote by Guy of Z>

"I have seen the contents of the pod with my own eyes. She is simply a woman. We were not stored in a sith temple originally, so if that is where you found us we must have been moved for some reason." Carter's voice was calm, levelled with a tiny bit of artificial confusion to sell the idea that he was confused about having been found in that location. It seems Palpatine had really not expected his prize to be found by someone else, huh... "And regardless of what they are or are not, my orders are to protect her. So if you plan anything that may cause her harm I will be forced to stop you."

@SansTheMedic

"Listen here Clone! The Old republic is out the window here the contents of the pod have the information stating this is a biological weapon of untold power. Its my mission to get it to where it needs to be." Hirog started to become indignant

In proper Hiromi hands.

"Look I've delt with the Sith lords little hangouts long enough to know not everything you see meets the eye, also your memories can be tampered with be it with tchnology or the force you are a Clone after all no effence." Earen spoke factually.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

The Unknown Regions

“Aaaahhahahahaha yes! Yes!” The raspy, guttural lizard like vocal chords chimed with their usual discordance as the second bird like pair brought a second, shrill voice out that echoed across the odd shaped, silver vessel. Ahead of them, in a sea of pinks and blues an immense dagger like behemoth breached. Thick gaseous clouds and hyper condensed liquid rained off its enormous bluish gray sides causing a cascade of fire and brilliant orange lightning that made the immense vessel appear almost alive. Wider than the average Executor class Star Destroyer the Intimidator cut a ferocious swath through the brilliant gasses and the ocean of condemned hydrogen and helium that were the remnants of the cosmic afterbirth of a stillborn gas giant.

Far in the distance, dark eyes espied a planet, it was mostly dead but it had once been home to a teaming biomass and a thriving civilization. A world city denser in size than Coruscant’s bones lined the world. The only flickering lights coming from the crews billeted on ad hoc Atmospherically controlled settlements, as thousands of Imperial soldiers and tens of thousands of engineers began to strip mine the cosmic graveyard for the raw materials needed to prepare for the undertaking that would come, one day. “Yes! Ahh Shira Brie! Lovely protestitute! You brought Tash so many wondrous presents!”

Months prior, on the eve of Endor an elite strike team led by Lumiya and Flint raided the Blackfleet, slew the command and drove the Yaveetha out of their stolen armada. Back from the dead Demtrius Zaarin The First Grand Admiral stormed the deck of the Intimidator in triumph and compelled by visions from a gifted Dwarf, led as much of the core of his old command and the liberated Imperial soldiers away, away to the mysterious allies Lumiya brought them. Nagai, who’d shown up periodically over the history of the Galaxy, always in small bands of refugee ships, always as scouts or colonists, or prospectors but never in force, never aggressively. And so they were dismissed as a minor nuisance. “We’ve allocated the aft wing of the Intimidator to you, your laboratories shall be there Scientist” One Nagai remarked, taking an unconscious step back as the shabby coated monstrosity bent its body unnaturally, its long, bird like neck and waddle shaking as its tail curled, both its primary arms and the two, hideously atrophied appendages reached out towards the transparasteel of a window as its tongue lulled out the side of its snout. “Excellent! Gray faced, black eyed chronic depressives have been more than gracious to poor Tash! Stupid Arkanians, just because a uterus has never been used to self replicate a hypermatter bomb does not mean that;s impossible! Felecatians fart helium and shape change! This implies that there is something other than carbon in their makeup! Tash was merely seeking to bring utility to stupid, useless pink eyed reprobate beast men!” A whimpering tsk, tsking noise came from the abomination, an odd dirge like quality to it. “No one listens to Tash! Tash told burn faced wizard that if he continued thirsting after bald harlots his force powers would atrophy and degenerate! And LOOK WHAT HAPPENED! COULD NOT SEE THAT TORTURING MENTALLY DEFECTIVE BABY BROTHER’S DESERT BAKED IDIOT CHILD IN FRONT OF HIM WOULD RESULT IN DISABLED PERSON TANTRUM!”

“Now Empire in hand of Arkanian Jedi whore! And stupid man bat thing and ugly heterochromatic female! No one listens to Tash and UNIVERSE EXPLODES!” The being wrung both his hands, looking at once hideous and oddly pathetic. “All Tash wishes to do is gift the universe with science! And cure...personal deficiency in production capacity! Except Shira Brie, who is best of crippled, mentally retarded baby brothers whores..Shira Brie always listened to Tash and Tash always does best to please Shira Brie!”

“You will refrain from addressing my master as a whore abomination!” Flint snapped, his armor tensing around his body as if the very energies he’d summoned through the force to lash out at Tash, to batter his body were so repulsed by his being that passed around him, refused to touch him and gently pushed back against his being. As if the force itself rejected its existence.

The Creature let out an incredulous laugh “Child please!”

“Enough Flint, he is a creature so thoroughly decayed he exists as if in mockery of life itself. The force itself denies him he is a wound, a tumor in it.” Lumiya was unphased by the creatures babbling, his rants uninterested her avenging herself and her masters against Skywalker and the Rebels mattered more.

“It seems this creature continues to be full of surprises. He is impervious to your wizardry?” A Nagai a frankenstein esque head of hair and an amused demeanor said as he sharpened a knife in a chair nearby.

“The force flows in all things his modifications to his being simply dull its effects.”

“It sounds like you are merely compensating in front of our new friends my Dark lady.” Zaarin spoke freely around the prospective Sith Lord. She could not slay him now while she still needed his technological expertise.

“Do not test me Grand Admiral, just because I am not that Jedi usurper who slays Grand Admirals and force users on a whim doesn’t mean I can’t simply find other ways to make you suffer. I did not forget your attempt on the Emperor’s life and your foolish rebellion.”

“I did not forget you still need allies in wake of this new Jedi Rebellion, like it not my dear Lady you need me and my technological might as I need a figurehead to lead the Empire out of this ruin.” He was contemptuous of the so called force users, much like Trachata and Gentis before him Zaarin chafed under the Sith Lords rule of the Empire and their cabal or mystics. But compared to that Arkanian abomination their rule was more...secular. The Rebels on the other hand were Rebels who wanted the depravity of the Old Republic back.

Lumiya’s eyes narrowed behind her mask and she stared down the insolent Grand Admiral intensely.
“There's no need to be upset, I'd rather follow you over the Alien at least. Krennel despite his barbarity had a semblance of a point.”

She merely raised her hand and pressed the man into the wall leaving him reeling on the polished floor.

“Stop chattering and update me with your collaboration with the Faruun Shipbuilders Admiral. We need to prepare our forces for the invasion. There must be no distractions.”

“The ...Nagai’s cloaking technology is superior to my own we are...making progress customizing my fleet with it, it just needs time.” Zaarin said as he attempted to pick himself up.

As the transient with pale skin and black eyes remarked about the limit of the Dark woman’s powers it seemed as though the monstrosity was about to speak only for it to go silent as another figure revealed itself. The creature raised one of its atrophied appendages to begin scratching at its neck, mechanical eye suddenly bulging out of its socket to zoom in until it had a solid look at the facial structure, the skin, its blemishes and its scars. “Aaahh! Grand Admiral Tinkerer!” As soon as the man was pushed into a wall the creature let out an annoyed hiss as if Lumiya’s antics had interrupted some momentous reunion. Beside him, Flint stared through his armor gazing at the creature, again attempting to probe it with the force only to find his powers rejected its very nature yet, pushing hard enough the youth could almost catch a glimpse of something coursing through its veins beyond the disgusting black sludge that passed for its blood. As if, the force swirled around it, delved into it, attempting to restore the accident of its birth.

-Is this monstrosity a spawn of Sith Alchemy?- the force seemed to flood his senses with a looming dread and a sense of revelation profound as it was maddening. Apprehension filled the arrogant fanatic and he quickly turned his attention to the conflict between Zaarin and..Oh kriff. Flint turned and gave a look of surprise as the being began to loudly rant about Felacatians and organic dirty bombs. Lumiya said that Palpatine kept this monster around, even regarded with a fair approximation of fondness but all Flint saw was horror and a mind that was as based in predatory instinct as it was in brilliance. “W..why..would you ever wish to make a rad bomb out of a female of any species?” At once the would be Sith realized he might regret the answer to such a question. The creature, for his part seemed to have paused in his grotesque quest to scratch his waddle with arms almost too short to reach. “Hah! Speeder racing, spice using burned Dark Lord ask Tash the same question! Tash pointed out that a retrovirus that creates bombs inside disgusting shape changing cat people was useful when violent rebel primitives based so much of their military on heterogeneity! Feh! Silly Rebels boast of having two thousand systems and eighteen species in their memberbase! Where they see strength in variety Tash sees eighteen thousand ways to attack each species! “ the creature clicked its beak like snout as if disappointed in something, recalling perhaps long ago settled arguments with the Dark Lord as Vader watched on in vexatious silence. “Silly burned faced Dark Lord! Tash tell him legions of non humans was spectacular idea! Limited may be but Tash could improve! Conscript or volunteer, all bodies belong to Empire yes? Tash says to the netherrealms with such provincial thinking as humanocentrisim! Humanocentrism good for governance but interferes with poor Tash’s research into making better men for better empire! Epidermally compromised Dark lord and ambling, wheezing retarded brother always tell Tash to abandon such folly as if true science is ever folly! Oooohhh the progress Tash could have made!” the creature whined dejectedly “So many races made better! So many wonders to discover! Perhaps even proper methods of sating poor Tash’s carnal needs!” The being shook its head, the conversation becoming suddenly one filled with despair and thirst. “Tash once offer to create new body for wheezing cripple, with DNA from Orbalisk, Rhakghul, Sarlaac and orphans! But poor Tash was thrown against a wall for his charity” the creature let out an unnatural guttural howl of frustration. Behind it, two more Star Dreadnaughts one an Assertor Class Super Star Destroyer, the other looked like the lone surviving Sovereign Class, each breached with the same intensity and together they caused massive tidal waves thousands of meters in height which rippled across the vastness of the Nebula, their escort ships swarming around the behemoths, as flying fish scattered by a pair of whales on a breach.

“Even with Knife’s new allies and the marriage of our cloaking technologies and vessels, it will still take some five years for the rest of our people to arrive and an additional ten to make their vessels combat ready” What might have passed for a Nagai General intoned, his teeth clenched as he gazed at the force users. “Your empire must accommodate us, you must wait”

“Tash can help make the planet serviceable for your kind pale faced melodramatic alien! Baaahh so much lack of efficiency, make war in five years, have world ready for temporary settlement!” The transport ship began to dock with the Intimidator as the conversation seemed to stop as Tash put in his “advice”. “Tash has experience with planetary engineering! Why Tash was the one who cracked the genetic code of Zeno-oh...ahh AHHHHHAAREEEEEE! TASH FORGOT THAT HIS ONCE MIRACULOUS ACHIEVEMENT IN PROCREATION WITH THE GREY SOUP MONSTERS CHANGE ALL THINGS...REMEMBER NOTHING OF THAT TASH SEES...SHAAAAMMMEEE HIS GREATEST SCIENTIFIC ACHIEVEMENT DENIED IN ALL WAYS!” The creature whales and ruefully gestured to its crotch screaming in sheer frustration before continuing “but Tash can make you armada...with Faruun Shipbuilders! Yes! Though, though, serviceable genetic material needed for world engineering!” the creature stalked forward grabbing the nearest Nagai and Lumiya.

“TASH SEES IT NOW..MOMENT OF GENIUS! TASH CAN UNIFY NETTI AND WOOKIE DNA..CREATE LIVING MEAT TREES THAT RIP FROM DEAD WORLD BELOW AND MAKE CITY BREATHABLE AND HABITABLE...TASH CAN DO THIS YESS! BUT RAW MATERIAL IS NEEDED! ...And many aids who are deaf, Tash finds the moral bloviating of over ethical colleagues a tedious burden! Stupid Arkanians, Tash only vivisect eight million infants and implant them with orbalisk, Coruscanti-corridor worm hybrids! Not Tash’s fault force have seizure when stupid bald priest spy man attempt to use magic on test subjects! Tash not responsible for subatomic division among infants! TASH WARNED THERE WOULD BE CONSEQUENCES WHEN BEFOULING TASH’S PURE, VIRGINAL SCIENCE WITH CARNIVAL MAGIC!!!!”

“Ah yes the Emperor’s pet mutant bioengineer it's good to know you survived this upheaval, I’ve tried to contact your contemporary Blackhole but I doubt he cares to answer.” Zaarin said attempting to compose himself in front of the Aliens and the Dark Lords by switching topics. He was too sympathetic to the creatures disdain of parlor trickery despite the unpleasantness of his procedures but they produced results.

“You know this...creature?” Flint asked almost disdainfully, regretting deeply his foolishness at asking “Tash” why it wanted to weaponize the reproductive organs of Xenos in some of the most unnatural of ways. The creature itself seemingly answered for Zaarin bobbing its head and making a mix of pleasing sounding cooing noises and guttural rumbles that sounded like a Zegobah Swamp lizard making a mating call. Behind him, the Nagai known as Knife made a sound resembling a chuckle that seemed to alternate between laughter and disgust. As the vessel docked however, the whole of the Galaxy stopped spinning as the creature began referring to both Blackhole and a being who was clearly the Emperor and then Darth Vader with a kind of casual disrespect and disdain that set his blood to boiling and he grabbed the creature by the gruff of the fabric around its hunched back and odd medical equipment that rested under the ridge like casing and slammed him against transparasteel, fans inside the hump like ridge whirred angrily and the Creature made an odd gasping noise “YOU DARE?!” “Stupid Child puts hand on Tash! FEH! WHAT DOES WHINING ARMORED CASED BUFFOON KNOW?!” The words themselves didn’t phase Flint so much as the look in its one, remaining organic eye. A look that matched the utterly unholy sensations he and his master felt when that vile Arkanian witch wielded her powers for the first time, the same unnatural chill, a pained cry in the force. It was if he was staring into the embodiment of sentient intellect unmoored and freed from anything resembling honor, compassion, ethics, or conviction. It was pure, unhindered drive and progress, a need to push forward without any heed to the consequences of ceaseless, rudderless change. His hand twitched, knowing in that moment if he didn’t let go, this creature would not die by his hand but instead become his executioner, or worse his advocate.

Flint released him and stepped back and the monster dusted itself off and turned to the Nagai, Lumiya and the Grand Admiral. “Tash can solve your vexatious problems and shorten your preparation time by five years! Perhaps more, but Tash can only do so, with proper autonomy! Will gracious whore, beneficent pale parasite and temarous Tinkerer permit Tash to work without hindrance?! Will they permit humble, scorned, poor Tash to pursue the art of science for the Empire!? For the Sith...FOR SCIENCE?!”

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@SansTheMedic

<Snipped quote by Guy of Z>

"It's just a woman sir." Carter says, concealing a smirk at the intense reaction from the bug as he flicks safety back on. "She was put under my protection and in cryo stasis to protect her from sepratists. She was a high ranking official of a small outer rim mining colony; if the seperatists killed her they'd be able to take control of the planet, so we kept her safe to ensure it didn't fall into their hands."

This of course was completely untrue, and given a deep enough research into the fine details of the clone war it could be disproven that such a planet didn't exist, but his superiors made sure to give a believable enough cover that only VERY few would be able to do the detective work.

@SansTheMedic

"Yeah but why was it in a Sith Temple that doubled as one of the Emperor's storehouses? This doesn't add up why would he take effort to hide you with...whatever the kriff is there? And why does this thing look like the Chambers they found in Yavin? This really doesn't add up."

"Maybe they fed you false information clone, the Emperor was making preparations for the Empire since the clone wars." Holdo said

Hirog continued to cower.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@SansTheMedic

<Snipped quote by Guy of Z>

Carter raised an eyebrow at the interesting interaction before him, before stepping forward. "Sorry sir, my orders are to protect the VIP in the 'main pod'. You'll need to tell me why you're so interested in them." There was a subtle flick of a safety. Carter didn't fully intend to get in a fight with this.... Weird looking alien, but it was more a subtle show of force that he wouldn't be afraid to blast the creature if his job called for it.

@SansTheMedic

“AHHHH PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!”

The bugman began to shout incoherently as he began to hide behind the guards.

“Why won’t you disarm him?!”

“We don’t know what's in it. I don’t want to touch it in fact since the Emperor died I wanted to keep the various warlords fighting over the scraps from getting access to this or just...blowing it up? Is it a bioweapon? A new power armor? A monster? Because it looks like this monster’s pod we encountered a few years back called the Night Beast.” Earhen asked.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

<Snipped quote by Guy of Z>

"I see..." Carter said. So the chancellor overthrew the Jedi order and became the leader of an empire for two decades before being kicked out of power by these New Republic people. This brought to question the idea of 'what now?'. His loyalty did technically lie with the republic last he checked, but he fought directly underneath Palpatine. Not to mention his cover was a Couroscant guard soldier. Were these people his enemies or allies? He thought for a moment...

His objectives were to keep Vehia's nature secret and to follow her orders...

Well, that solves that dillema. Carter lowers his gun, stepping into a simple at-attention stance with safety on and barrel to the floor. "In that case, specialist CT 6871, codename Carter. I worked as part of the Corouscant guard until being tasked with acting the bodyguard for a high risk VIP named Vehia by the Jedi council. Speaking of which, where might the cryopod for her be located?"

@SansTheMedic

@SansTheMedic

“This is Hirog...I am present on the Alliance ship Maria as an envoy for Admiral Ackbar...those fools won’t suspect the brilliant cunning of the Glorious Hiromi Empire when I will abscond with the extremely dangerous and mysterious Sith artifact from the Imperial Storehouse...yes this plan is flawless. When we unlock the weapon the Emperor stored we will conquer the galaxy with it!” An Insectoid in a military beret speaking into a comm device spoke outside of the hallway.

“Update me with your success first officer.” The device replied

“All in the name of the glorious destiny of the Hiromi Empire Yaaay!”

As the confrontation occurred the group were interrupted by the arrival of Hirog...froze suddenly at the sight of an Armed Jango Fett clone before a dark skinned young man with striking natural white hair and a woman with contrasting dyed green hair.

“Oh boy….can someone explain to me what's happening here?” He meekly raised his exoskeletoned finger at the group looking at a sentient bearing a shotgun.

“Oh good thing you’re here Hirog...on the topic of my payment...it's gonna be extra for this confrontation I just defused with the clone.”

“What the hell is happening I DIDN’T ORDER YOU TO OPEN THE PODS!”

“Blame Vice Admiral Aposematism here not me guy.”

"Hey I was checking if it wasn't a bob or something you selfish bastard!"

“Its good its not the main pod, now let me take it so I can take it to Admiral Ackbar.”

This was going just as planned YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

“Ok just give me my money, gas isn’t cheap.”

“Fine I’ll mail it to you in time. Now get the clone out.”

“That's not how it works I want it upfront bug boy. I told the Admiral that I keep telling him this.”

“I don’t have the time for this you credit pinching merc!”

“I'M NOT A CHARITY HIROG!”

“GET THE KRIFF OUT OF THE WAY AND LET ME DO MY JOB!”

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@SansTheMedic

<Snipped quote by Guy of Z>

"20 odd years, right. Seems I have a lot of catch up work to do." Carter slowly steps out of the cryopod, keeping his shotgun ready but not directly aimed at Holdo. From the display given she was clearly not a threat, and while this other guy was far more competant, he seemed to be neutral enough. All the same he'd be cautious, scanning the room for anything else of note, including the pod containing his mission target, his footsteps slow and precice as he backed off from the woman who had woken him up. If nothing else, these two could prove helpful with catching him up on the time he'd spent in the deep freeze. "First off, who are you two?"

@SansTheMedic

"Thats a long story you see after the Clone Wars the Republic became an Empire because Palpatine claimed the Jedi tried to assassinate him and turned the Republic into an Empire and all that fun stuff. The Senate being full of monarchies and dictatorships thought it was the tightest spast and kept going for the next oh 20 Years or so before getting dissolved after they built the Deathstar, a superweapon that can crack worlds."

Earhen continued rambling on with the historical lesson

"Get to the point dammit!" Holdo yelled.

The nearby guards were tense as well but what could they do a Vat grown killing machine holding their commanding officer hostage.

"Fiiine I was enlightening this gentlemen on the current state of Galactic politics excuse me for being enthusiastic. We were initially the Alliance to restore the Republic then the Alliance of free Planets now we're the New republic now. Basically the new boss to your old boss cloney."

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@SansTheMedic

<Snipped quote by Guy of Z>

Almost as soon as that last sentence was finished, Holdo would find the barrel of a DP-23 shotgun pressed to her temple, the clone's eyes open and staring coldly at her through the visor of the salmon-highlighted helmet.

SEVERAL YEARS PRIOR

"You understand your objective, soldier?" The officer across the table asked as CT-6871, codename Carter, made some final preperations on his equipment.

"I am to act as a bodyguard to the entity known as Vehia under the orders of chancellor palpatine, with a cover of being a member of the Couroscant guard. I am to accept orders from either the chancellor or the girl in my charge and nobody else. I am to ensure her nature is not revealed to anyone at all costs, and ensure that if any spills occur to mop it up appropriately. Is that correct, sir?" Carter asked as he slid his weaponary into the appropriate slots on his armour before putting his phase ii helmet on

"Correct. You will be entering cryo-statis inside the storage facility Vehia is being kept in and will be thawed out upon the opening of either of your pods. You will most likely be woken either by one of our own or by the chancellor himself."

"And if I am not, sir?"

"How you approach that and any similar situation is up to you. You'll be acting under your own instinct and wit for the most part, 6871."

"Understood, sir."

PRESENT DAY

Carter could tell quite easily that this wasn't someone who was supposed to have woken him, unless things had changed significantly while he had been in cryo stasis. However he could also tell that this place was not where he had been stored, so there was a likelyhood that he was in potentially hostile territory. Still, his gun was up and inches from the oddly-haired woman's face, and he was gonna be very concice with his words. No point in not making himself clear to these people.

"I don't want to start a fight if I don't need to" he says slowly, voice level and deliberate, "But you aren't what I expected to see when I went into stasis so you best tell me who you are. Any bullshitting and I will blast you, and you don't contend with clones when it comes to making a good shot."

@SansTheMedic

“Don’t just stand there Earhen! Use your Echani Martial arts to save me!”

“I'm fine right here, not unless you can like triple my payment here? I thought you didn’t need me and some spast babe.”

“Oh Kriff off!”

“Fine you deal with the angry Mandalorian clone while I call Hirog about my Fee.”

Holdo looked back at the clone with a shotgun pointed into her direction.

“Okay okay okay I’ll triple your price just get him to lower his gun!”

“Ok clone just informing you…it's been two decades since the clone wars ended.” The dark skinned white haired Human with silver eyes began to explain.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

New Republic Defense Force Fleet undisclosed location

“I keep telling you Holdo don’t kriff with it it could be anything here.”

“The Republic pays you to do odd jobs not give advice to Mr Sun jr.”

“Stop calling me that retarded nickname its not cute.”

“I’ll call you what I want so far Merc, this is my ship; my mission and we need everything we can get against the several dozen warlords and the mainstream Empire.”

“Look...Vice Admiral…(Why the kriff is a Vice Admiral in charge not a real one) I don’t know what the hell is in these pods, the datafiles said they look like that thing on Yavin that kriffed up the base there before before it took off into space. You really wanna risk that?”

“Don’t tell me what I'm willing to risk Mr Merc, we fight every day for your enterprise.”

“I have a name Vice Admiral please use it.” Earhen couldn’t believe the nerve of this woman, if he wasn’t keeping his stuff secret he'd go off about how much bad shit was put into the Emperors storehouses, he'd know he had to collect some of the spast stored in them he had to collect them. Of course they never told him the exact locations he had to do the digging on his own for thule along with finding some Imperial Guard and making them “cooperate”.

“Kriff you don’t know what's in it, help me out here guys!”

(He has a point you know there were Blackhole Stormtroopers and everything.)

“Look bunny boys I get you were sent by Mon Mothma to monitor this kid but please know your place here. I know what Im doing”

(Excuse me? Just because you are a biped with opposable thumbs doesn't make you better than us nor does it give you the right to snap at us for relying information Ma'am.)

“No offense intended but before the Alliance found your planet you were off living in caves feeding off of energy. You haven’t seen the galaxy like my people have and its challenges you simple little guys should know a star destroyer is more dangerous than a Silvyth or a uh “Darker”.”

“Look Holdo before you cause an international incident on top of a kriffing disaster in your own ship just listen to me for five seconds. Something bad will come out of that pod if you open it I know what I'm talking about.”

“Zip it.”

“God you are gonna get us all killed…”

“Open the smaller pod first.” Holdo commanded her soldiers to begin prying it open. After a few minutes of tampering with the controls it opened revealing a clone of Jango Fett.

“Oh a clone stormtrooper, be sure to throw it into the brig when it wakes up.”

“Lucky try this time Holdo don’t be stupid here.”

“I'm opening it mercenary, you can leave if you’re so scared.”

“And miss the chance to watch you die?”

@SansTheMedic