...
Sting is my dad, Ellen DeGeneres is my mom, Taylor Swift is my sister, Justin Beiber is my brother and Paul McCartney is my grandfather.
Ew, my siblings dated (right?)
Tempest Member
Feminazi
- Last Seen: 5 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Tempest - Vutha - DeAnima
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
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- Tempest 11 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
Azazel clenches her fists, trying to hold her fire close against her hands and keep from rearing up and roaring to greater heights again. Her power was fluctuating again and she was having troubles keeping control. Taking a deep breath, she gestures Janii onwards, frowning as the fire leaps up from her hand and curls in the air. Janii arches a brow and pauses, recalculating her shield before crouching and taking a slow breath.
One thing Azazel would give Janii, she was fast. Faster than herself. The cyborg goes in, nails outstretched and ready to pierce in a deadly precise strike. Azazel tries to hold onto her fire as she moves to duck aside, even as Janii's cyborg eye follows her, tracking her movement. Azazel reaches out to flip her. However, the cyborg changes her course, going to lash out with her human hand.
Azazel swallows and quickly steps back unsteadily. She narrows her eyes before darting in, going to striking Janii's midsection. The cyborg of course deftly moves aside and gets ready to strike down. That was, until Azazel unleashes her fire in a blast directly forward, shielding her face. A surge of power rushes over her and she suddenly notices new force presences near. Her eyes go wide and she stands up, looking around wildly, trying to pinpoint the source.
The first she noticed, was the training facility in flames. Janii was thrown back against the far wall from the blast and was groaning, her shield only enough to have prevented the effects of the fire before shorting out just at the impact. She heaves herself up, only to duck down under a tarp as an alarm goes off and foam begins to spurt out to kill the flames. Azazel blinks, looking at the destruction she had wrought, still trying to find the source of the two force users.
She closes her eyes, reaching out. If it was an approaching vessel, surely Xen would have alerted her. Perhaps a stowaway, a spy of Traiserus'. Or maybe her mind was playing tricks on her since picking up Gra'tua's disciples. What she finds astounds her, though. Her head drops, foam dripping down from her hair as her hands go to her abdomen. Her eyes widen, a soft laugh bubbling from her lips before coming out in elated giggles, “Its them! By the dark-side...” Tears begin to stream down her cheeks as she sinks down to her knees, still laughing and holding her swollen abdomen. Her fears of her children not possessing the gift were now averted.
From not too far away, Janii pipes up from underneath the tarp still. “What was that about?”
Azazel hesitates, her smile dropping. That was a good point. Her eyes widen, looking at the scorched walls and smothering chemicals. She swallows, eyes going down herself once more. “Oh dear...” she mutters, the realization slowly dawning. She must have accidentally tapped into their own powers. She frowns and shakes her head, “That... cannot mean anything good.”
Janii calls back, “Lady Azazel, is it safe for me to come out. I do not wish my cybernetics to malfunction.”
Azazel wipes away the foam off herself as she looks up, “Seems to be. Would you mind contacting a maintenance crew to clear this up... I fear training will be temporarily suspended until it is done with.”
Azazel's commlink begins to go off and she furrows her brow, raising her hand up, “What?” A soft squeak comes from the other side before she hears two individuals bickering in hushed tones. What she could make out of it appeared that they were in a spat over who would tell the Dark Lady. “Well?”
She hears a thud, something fleshy smacking into something metallic before someone groans out in obvious discomfort, “Lady Azazel, the scanning crew has a report. There is something being picked up on their scanners. It isn't background radiation. Something man-made.”
Azazel furrows her brow, “Is that all you had to sincerely tell me? You're paid for more than that. Get a trace on it and determine what it is.”
A woman's voice grumbles over the link, “You don't pay us, actually...”
Azazel pauses, “What was that?”
“Happy to work for your illustrious cause, Dark Lady.”
The ship was brought closer so the signal could be studied more thoroughly and it finally became clear what it was. The two sensor operators first doing a rock, paper, scissors match to determine who would inform their Dark Lady. The one who lost nervously called her on her private comms again. "Lady Azazel, our scans are complete, it appears to be a distress beacon of Republic origin. Military origin as far as we can tell."
Azazel was already on her way to her room to start getting into gear, after sending a brief message to her followers remaining with her to prepare themselves. “We'll check it out. If nothing else, we find salvage to scrap for a few quick creds. At best, we just happen to be lucky and find someone important who owes us a debt.”
Dropping out of hyperspace and setting a course the Dagda made it's way to the origin of distress beacon. As they neared it and they were now closer to get a better sensor reading it became evident it did not concern on ship, there was enough debris present for more than ten ships. But that's what most of them were, debris.
The origin of the distress beacon however was something that vaguely resembled a Venator-class star destroy, or at least the aft part of it with the bridge was still intact, the entire front section seemed to have been obliterated.
Azazel frowns and looks at the destruction. “Try to establish a communication with the vessel.” The communication officer nods and gets to establishing a feed, muttering over the line, 'This is The Dagda, answering a distress signal in this vicinity. Does anyone read me?'
The communications officer tried everal times but in the end gave up, either the ones who set the beacon all died or the beacon was only automated and their communications were destroyed.
Azazel leans forward over the railing deciding what to do next. “Get the boarding ships ready. We'll check for any survivors and anything of use to salvage. Who knows.”
In the end, Azazel arranges two parties to go over to the ships on DALSC boarding ships. The parties would be split into two, with herself leading one and Xen the other. Each party would consist of 5 Mandalorian Commandos and 10 Mandoa Assault troopers. With herself would be Janii and Rei'Ki. Xen would board with Lydavis and Kitt. Those without armour capable of sealing, like herself, would be in space-suits... Xen's operation would include finding any vital data while her goal was to scout the remains of the vessel for any one or anything of use. With their directives clear, they ship off towards the source of the beacon.
The two shuttles burst forth from the Daghda's belly to the remains of the Venator, selecting the two most easily accesable points to enter the innards of the vessel. Azazel's team had no trouble and easily entered a empty corridor.
Xen however had to order his pilot to vaporize some vacuum frozen corpses of crew and clone troopers before he and his team could get aboard. One of the Mandalorians remarking it had to be a weapon of some power to have caused this to the Venator.
Azazel hesitates in the corridor before picking a direction at random, waving her group onwards. They would search out the bridge first. Rei'Ki from the back remarks, “This doesn't chance to become some holo-horror flick. Not at all. Nope. And no droids, either. Yeah, that'd just be too predictable.”
Xen meanwhile frowns and nods, “Let's hope whatever it is does not come back... And if it does, Ilo can well handle it.” He furrows his brow and starts to look for a working terminal. He would look for the system specs if he could and find any points that would still perhaps be functioning. Reports could be useful to find out what happened here. Or perhaps even tell him any parts of the ship that might still be secure and functioning in such catastrophe.
The only obstacle Azazel and her team found, where the floating corpses of some of the crew and a single astromech droid who seemed intent to fix a bulkhead, the sparks flying from the top of its might indicate it was damaged and futily tried to act out its last command.
Xen found himself a terminal that was flashing red wit ha single message in bold letters. "GENERAL EVACUATION. ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP."
Xen stops and leans back against the wall, “Found a terminal. Sounds like everyone was sent to evacuate. Chances are, not a soul here. All I've found myself are a lot of floating dead guys. We could keep searching, but chances are this is all a bunch of salvage.”
Azazel answers back, “Just check it out, maybe there's something here. It can't hurt to just look, right?” She finds herself intrigued as she taps the foot of a dead soldier and sends them spiraling, “See if you can head down to engineering.”
Tapping into the terminal Xen finds taht most of the data has been corrupted, since either the computers connected to this terminal are either damage or were in apart of the ship that was torned apart, he did manage to get some schematics that allowed him to guide Azazel in the direction of the bridge however.
Following his directions till she reached a closed blastdoor, the console to the side indicating... there was actual life support still working beyond the blastdoor.
Azazel pauses and gestures for her people to ready their guns as she goes to wrap a protective shield about herself. Without further ado, she simple tries to rap as hard as she can, wondering if they could hear her. Her gaze goes to the console before she begins to try and see if she herself could get a message to whoever was on the other side. If not, she would just have to wait for Xen to make his way over.
A screen flickered to life And a face appeared, wearing a republic naval officers cap, staring wide-eyed at Azazel, a message appeared on the screen. "Rescue?" Azazel would notice a small keypad to perhaps type a response back.
Azazel blinks at the screen before nodding her head, though obscured by a helmet it would be. “Yes. What happened?”
The reply that came was the following. "Stand back." Once Azazel did so a blastdoor behind them was shut instantly, she might think it was a trap but then one of the corpses with them suddenly fell to the floor, gravity was restored and with a sudden pop and the sound of gears it also became noticable that life support had been restored to this part of the corridor as well.
The door opened, revealing two clone troopers with raised blaster rifles and the officer, who seemed relieved but then looked more cautiously. "I am sub-lieutenant Karlssen, who do I owe our thanks for the rescue?"
Azazel's eyes flicker back to her Mandalorian soldiers and she salutes with a fist over her chest and a bow of her head. “Alor Dha'dala of Clan Kurkova,” she answers simply, thankful for the mask over her face. Who knew who in the Republic had a picture of her face since the jailbreak on Kessel. “I am the master of the ships The Dagda and The Aberrancy. How long have you all been trapped here?”
"Mandalorians, thank the stars." The officer murmured, the two clone troopers kept their blasters trained on the rescue party however, although one of them gave the mandalorians a respectful nod. The officer gave a rueful smile, "About a month and a half, we were somewhat cut off from our supply lines when we encountered a deep space CIS patrol. I believe we won... otherwise we would be dead, but clearly no ships of ours remained to rescue us. Our supplies were almost completely dry when we suddenly got the alarm of someone trying to tamper with the blastdoor.... I don't suppose you could give us a ride to the nearest republic or neutral aligned planet?"
Azazel crosses her arms and nods, “One of my officers was boundwards to The Wheel soon. If it pleases you, he will offer you food and lodgings on the trip there and see you to a safe location. You may also utilize the ship's hypercomm capacities have you any time-sensitive information to pass along.” As well as have the lines tapped and thoroughly observed for any useful information.
The officer let out a sigh of relief, then frowned. "Ah, I suppose I should clarify... there are about 90 of us that have survived, will that be a problem?"
Azazel straightens her back and shakes her head no. “It should not be. I have ample capacity on board my vessel. I would ask you mind my crew and allow them to go about their duties uninterrupted while you lodge in the barracks.” She pauses and quickly does the figures in her head, “I have some light support vessels to carry you to The Aberrancy, however, it may take a few round trips. If we must rely upon my boarding crafts alone.”
The officer motioned for the clone troopers to lower their blasters and then extended his hand, "On behalf of the Republic and the surviving crew of the Pride of Valorum, thank you."
Azazel meets his hand and shakes it firmly. “A pleasure to be of assistance to fellow verde.”
It took the better part of two hours to ferry all the survivors aboard the Aberrancy but they managed it without a hitch of trouble, Xen managed to obtain some interesting information, the officer send a encrypted message on a republic military channel, which Xen easily broke without a sweat and learned that the republic patrol had placed a stash of supplies and parts on Maridun for later recovery, this info could be used by themselves to see what was stashed here or perhaps sold to the highest bidder and have them deal with it.
And with that done, Xen took his parting from Azazel. The Dagda, with Janii, Rei'Ki, Hakkri, Ilo and Lydavis aboard went towards the Wheel. Meanwhile, Azazel's anticipation merely grew as she approached closer to Korriban. She hesitates for a moment, considering how close she was to Mandalorian space before going to contact Gra'tua. It would do well to see how he was faring.
Gra'tua frowned as he was being prodded, opening his eyes all he saw was a blurry vision untill it formed into the appearance of Magog who gestured to a screen. "Call coming in, it's your riduur." He blinked and weakly gestured for him to patch it through. No holo-projector, Azazel would clearly see Gra'tua, lying in a medical bay bed, recovering from his last surgery. He did smile however and spoke softly when Azazel's face appeared.
"Su cuy'gar, Azazel. I am sorry I cannot address you properly but I am somewhat... recovering from my ordeal. It was a success however." He winced as he felt some pain and let otu a growl before he shook his head, ignoring the pain. "How are you cyare?"
Her brows shoot up as she jostles her facemask in her hands, “Su cuy'gar, Gra'tua... I am well enough, I think. Anxious...” She looks sidelong, “Feeling stretched thin, perhaps. I have my followers divided all over for various tasks and I am... quite honestly terrified of encountering Traiserus again.” She brushes her hair back and looks at the screen with a faint smile, “Whatever did you do to ensure you cannot be on the holo-projector, hmm? Do I need to talk to Lena about returning you in one piece?”
He chuckled and winced, "Had, don't make me laugh it hurts... I had the unfortunate decision to do a honour duel... and ended up with a sword in my gut that almost pierced my heart. If you are interested.... we encountered a exiled Mandalorian clan... exiled almost four thousand years ago... they are Taung, the first, the first true Mandalorians... and now they have joined my clan." He was unable to keep the emotion, the wonder, contained within his voice as he said it out loud.
Azazel's brows shoot up in shock. Mimicking Xen when shocked, her hands move in a gesture, marking her disbelief. “That is...” The only thing she had comparable was if suddenly she stumbled in on a tribe of living, breathing sith purebloods. She laughs and shakes her head, nervously, “I can understand your excitement and any injury you sustained, then. I am proud for you, your Clan only continues to prosper, cyare.” Her gaze begins to falter again as he hand moves down, wringing at her robes. “I have some news of my own...”
Gra'tua frowns and winces as he tries to sit straighter, "What news, a new adversary?"
Azazel snorts and shakes her head, “Still just the one last we spoke, Gra'tua. However, I have recently discovered our ade are blessed with the force.” Her hand goes back, nervously running her hand through her hair. “What's more... I have found myself tapping into their potential by sheer accident... I fear what could happen if I am to use the force... If I accidentally draw too much...” Her eyes go up to Gra'tua, worry straining the composed expression she had tried to hold.
He blinked. "I... ah... wow." He was quiet for a while before he snapped out of it. "Both of them you say... that is... well that will be interesting to say the least." He coughed, "I do recall... Andrea also seemed more powerful... but yes if it might harm the children... perhaps it is best to try and not to draw upon their power." He showed a brief smile. "It is however... wonderful news Azazel."
She gives a nervous smile, “It is... I had worried they would not... but given circumstances...” She furrows her brow before leaning in, “I suppose it ought be time to try another career line.. Fighting up close appears to be a problem. And the force is out...” She shakes her head, “Blast it all, I will find something to do with myself.” She sighs and looks at Gra'tua, “I assume you are headed to Mandalore with your wonderful news. I am not too far myself.” She hesitates for a moment, feeling a touch guilty, “I am on my way to Korriban, given the planned attack, I had hoped a little more firepower might be of well some assistance to Andrea, given I'm to blame for it.” Her cheeks flush, “Perhaps, when you are well, you might join me there? Aside from it being some time since a Sith meeting... Perhaps the three of us ought talk...”
He smiled and leaned back in the pillows of the bed, "When I am able to I will head straight for Korriban... my ship received damage as well but I have other ships under my command....." He tightened his hand into a fist. "I did make an oath I would also help you hunt down the bastard who tried to kill my cyare and our children." He growled.
She smiles and blows a kiss to him, “Good... I can also prepare Andrea for your arrival then... I always get the feeling she wants to wound you when you are about.” She shakes her head, “Which, is among some of the things that I wish discussed.”
He chuckles, "I see... well, that will be a interesting discussion then... be safe cyare."
“You as well, Gra'tua, and may you have a swift recovery... It would be a shame if you were not feeling up to anything active when you arrive.”
Rayvon, Andrea & Ceann
Rayvon listens to the replies so far with a faint nod. The loss and damage by tripping the bomb was indeed grave. She finishes her prayer with a gesture over her brow before beginning to walk towards the plume of smoke. Until one in her company so boldly moves forward and begins to frisk down the corpse of the fallen Jeremy. Her face contorts in rage and she turns about to address him but he had already moved on to further desecrate the other dead. Her face twists in rage at the dishonorable act and she finds herself drawing her blade once more, fully intending to address him.
It appears his sacrilege was not unnoticed by the others too. For before her eyes the drow priestess was sparking a spell between her hands. Gnashing her teeth at the lack of formality to addressing his sinful greed, she decides upon the only thing she could do yet. She releases her sword with one hand, holding it lax and out of the way as she rushes and bodychecks the priestess full on to interrupt her concentration on her spell. He would pay for his transgressions, but the scourge must first be given a chance at redemption.
She let out a yelp of surprise when she was bodychecked once more, growling, expecting that damnable vampire to have done it again, instead she found herself face to face with the Aasimar warrior who had made such a ruckus of making a challenge to fight the vampire. She growled, baring her teeth, "Get off me! He is desecrating a aspect of my goddess and must pay for it!" She hissed.
She glares down at the drow before plainly stating, “He has committed crimes against the fallen, that he will be addressed for. But not all are blessed enough to know the sins they commit. The rogue will learn, but he must first be given a chance to learn from his ignorance.” She does not get up yet and continues to pin down the priestess. “Stay your venom yet, priestess and allow me to address him. If he refuses to acknowledge his folly and amend his ways... Then you've my permission. Yet not a moment sooner. What better are we if we strike down an unsuspecting man who knows no better, hmm?”
She growls, who did this aasimar think she was! And who she is addressing, she saw no way to get out from under her though, she did not have the strength to gain the upper hand, not without some kind of surprise on her side. She suddenly smirked, she knew something that might give her the element of surprise that might cause the Aasimar to be stunned long enough for her to get out under her hold. Without warning she suddenly pulled her head up and kissed the Aasimar, counting on her to be surprised and roughly turned her over so she would be on top of her and then get up to deal with the heretic her way...
Her eyes widen and she looses a surprised squeak as she freezes. Her mind begins to race to try and realize what exactly was going on. That is, until she is flipped over and she looses a grunt of pain as her injured shoulder thuds against the ground. That moment of searing pain tears her back into the moment and she draws back with a gasp and cries out in alarm. “Y-you! You dare steal a kiss from mine lips!?” Outrage floods her as she kicks out trying to throw the drow off her.
The Aasimar reacted quickly, damned warriors and their reflexes, she managed to think before she let out another yelp and fell on her back, letting out a groan as she felt the sting of her own injuries taking their toll. She couldn't help herself though as she groaned, lifting her head to look at the Aasimar, making a eye contact and openly licked her lips. "So I did, and I must say, it was much sweeter than I expected. Just be glad that is all I dared to do, at least for now." She got up with a snarl, "Now don't stop me." She slowly got to her feet to look for the damnable heretic and defiler. "I have to punish someone..."
Rayvon snarls and hefts herself up, drawing her sword up and angled at the drow. “How dare you!” she cries, tears lightly coming to her eyes. Her heart was racing and she was still unsure how to register what just happened. Her hands shake on the grip of her sword, all she could think is that this woman stole innocence from her just now and so rudely. Without her consent. And still she thought she would back down! “Childish, egotistical, self-serving, murderous wench! YOU WILL STOP NOW!”
She rose a white eyebrow, why by Lollth's tits was this aasimar overreacting like this? It distracted her from the spider desecration however as she winced and placed a hand on her wound, groaning as she felt unbalanced suddenly. "By Lollth, calm down woman, it's as if you have never been kissed before." She said with a snort.
Rayvon trembles in her armour, disgusted and seeing the drow seeming to back down she relaxes. Her hand leaves her greatsword, letting the end rest against the ground as she wipes her mouth with her gloves. Indignation floods her, but more so that she must defend her pride. She would not give the drow the satisfaction of knowing that it was just the case. With a huff she turns away from the drow and directs her next words at the rogue scavenging from the dead, “You, sir. Cease in your actions. The dead deserve more respect than you grant them. Return what you have stolen to their rightful owners that they be lain to rest with them. You know not what peace you may steal from them by such contemptible acts."
Her eyes widened, "That's it? That's all you do." She shook her head and turned to the other queens blade, eyes narrowed. "If you do not put back what you took from that noble spider, I will burn you alive." She ignited her hand to make the point, tempted to hurl a fireball but didn;t, she had no desire to be bodychecked again. Making sure to keep a eye on the rogue from the corner of her eye she turned to the aasimar and crossed her arms, studying her, she then widened her eyes. "You gotta be kidding me... that reaction... I was your first? How old are you!?"
She bristles at the words and grips her sword tight. “Two and twenty years,” she snaps, “Now leave me be, harlot. Your disrespect once today is more than enough.”
She blinked, two and twenty years and this was her first kiss!? These surfacers surprised her more and more with each day she stayed in this sunscorched madness. She blinked, no it had to be a other reason, she cocked her head, looking oddly at the Aasimar and then voiced her concern. "I... you are not... you are not... damaged... down there... right?" She vaguely gestured to between the Aasimar's legs
Her face blanches at the bold indecency of the drow and snarls back, “That is no business of yours!” She hefts her blade, bristling and fighting back every urge to strike out at the drow. “If you have not noticed, drow, there is still a battle waging about us and your own guard appears to have suffered severe injury and needs assistance. Do something useful. Your duty as a Blade, for example.”
She kept her head cocked, curious at the rather vicious defense the Aasimar was projecting, she frowned at the next thought but Ceann had insisted most sentients on the surface would act as such and that it was desirable to do so. She, inclined her head and uttered words from her mouth she had never said, "My... apologies. You are... wounded as well, do you require healing?"
She glowers at the drow, “No. Besides, I am unsure your magic would be fully effective on me. See to the more seriously injured. I believe the vampires in our midsts could use a token of blood to regenerate as well. I would assist, but I fear my blood may not be well for their consumption.”
She showed her arm, with the puncture marks of teeth, "I already donated." She suddenly smirked and gestured to the Rogue. "Perhaps to pay for his sins he should donate some blood... if you could arrange it, if he does that, I will be less inclined to burn him to a crisp."
She hesitates. The thought was indeed a good one and perhaps could result in holding away any potential death the injuries could incur upon their group. “Indeed...” She addresses Mars, “You heard the priestess. A selfless act such as that would certainly show your willingness to change. Assist your allies that we might be able to move forward, as a unit, to assist the rest of the town and the Queens of Renalta.” She pauses before lowering her voice, addressing the drow once more, “And you... See to your servant. She has done you well and your negligence of her service and injury is both cruel and unacceptable.”
She looked back at the Aasimar, a smile playing on her lips still. "Oh she knows her place and serves with dedication." She gestured for the Aasimar to look behind her.
Ceann had her arrow pulled back, clearly aiming at the Aasimar's back but as she turned around and the priestess signed to her all was well she lowered the bow and removed the arrow. Leaning back to lie on the ground and let out a sigh of relief.
Andrea kept smiling and looking at the Aasimar, "But you are correct, I should assist her." She walked forwards, standing beside the Aasimar and reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder and let out a brief surge of healing energies into the wound the Aasimar had received and she whispered to her. "I would like to converse with you some more, if you allow it. Fellow queens blades and all." She winked after saying those words and went for Ceann.
She shudders and draws away after the cool flow of energy knitting her injury inflicted by the drow archer. She frowns and continues to glower at the rogue, neither accepting or rejecting the future chance to talk as she holds her blade parallel with herself. Standing over the rogue, she waits to descend judgment if he fails to act upon her ultimatum.
Azazel stumbles out from her holocron chamber rubbing her eyes groggily. Nothing. She was so tired from being unable to sleep now that she had heard not a word whispered. The promises of power alluded her this morning. She steadies herself against a wall and winces, massaging her sore legs. She frowns and leans against the corridor wall and sighs to herself. She was struggling to do things that should come naturally. She was always tired, sick and sore anymore. She was slacking. She should be doing something more meaningful. Unlocking the secrets and developing her own powers. Deep down she knew she was still an amateur with the arts of manipulating fire. Her skills were mediocre at best at times.
She seeps down to the floor and draws her legs up as best she can with a wince as it strains a muscle. She frowns and rests her head back to the cold metal and closes her eyes. Five months. Four more to go. And she was growing fatter by the day. Weaker. The other siths must be looking down at her. Gra'tua was a fine general. Lena was an assassin to reckon with. Andrea and Traiserus had both excelled far beyond her in the force. Even Jacoiba who she knew so little of seemed capable of so much physical prowess and destruction. So what was she good at? Nothing. She sniffles and sits there, feeling sorry for herself.
Kitt pauses, walking by and furrows her brow, backtracking. “I was just looking for you. Reports are in. No go with the spies. The smugglers got a message across to Zarra though. She'll try to be at The Wheel, but apparently she has bounty hunters on her tail sent by.. Jehemath.” She crouches down and looks at Azazel curiously, “Why are you on the floor.”
Azazel huffs and shoos her away. “Just as I thought. I am sure there is someone helping him, that does not wish him found at this moment. Let him gather his allies and strength once more, I am sure. Of course... It was just a lucky cast of the dice we found the information on his planned assault last time.”
Kitt rolls her eyes, “Come on. I want to see if my tweaking my shield did anything. Maybe it can offer a little more protection against you big scary sith. Up.” She lightly nudges Azazel with her toes.
Azazel looses a small whine and tries to get up. She frowns and strains, turning herself a bit and tries to raise herself. “I'm stuck,” she finally sighs in exasperation.
Kitt blinks before stifling a laugh, reaching an arm out and grasping Azazel's forearm. “Alright, come on. One... Two...” She hefts and with a grunt says, “Three.” Azazel staggers to her feet, near lifted clear up by the small Echani alone. She blinks and tries to catch her balance, using the girl to steady herself. “There. That wasn't so bad.”
“I'd prefer not to need help doing something so stupidly simple, though,” Azazel snorts, straightening out her hair.
Kitt rolls her eyes, arms still on Azazel. “You have a good excuse. Just watch. After this, you'll be a mother to two beautiful children and back to your good old self.”
Azazel grumbles under her breath, “Sure, sure... Of course, their father is still off to gods know where with Lena.” She frowns and rubs over her face, “Of course, just watch, he is going to leave me for her... She's so much more skilled... And look at me, fat as a Jakobeast!”
Kitt furrows her brow before sighing, “You aren't. And if he does, he is an idiot. Come on. Let's get you active. Maybe the endorphins will do you good. Pick you up, get you out of your head. You've been dwelling too much lately.”
Azazel staggers and pants, reaching out and grasping the railing. The training saber visibly shakes in her hand before going out and dropping to the ground. She shudders and draws herself over to the waste recepticle, feeling nauseous and faint.
Kitt comes up behind her, dropping her shield and scooping Azazel's hair up in her hands and holding it back if the woman was to get sick. Wrangling the mass of hair finally into one hand, she runs a hand soothingly over Azazel's back. “Going to be okay?”
“No!” she snaps with a sob, feeling the nausea beginning to pass. For once without incidence. Kitt frowns and simply waits there beside her. The moment begins to draw on before Azazel shrugs Kitt away and stands, snapping the practice saber in her hand with a tug of the force. “Come on... Let's keep going...”
Kitt steps back hesitantly. “I don't know... You look like you can use a break... We can stop for now. You can rest, get your feet up. We can always continue later.”
Azazel wipes over her face with her sleeve and shakes her head, “No. We go now. I have to be better. I can't be so weak. What if we encounter Traiserus, hmm? Am I just supposed to roll over and plead for a reprieve so I can cool off? No. He will not stop, he will not hesitate. I hurt his pride. He will not be so easy next time.”
Kitt frowns and draws herself into a pose ready to dash if need be. Azazel like this, she might lash out without intending to... And not in a friendly practice manner. “I thought you said you will let your disciples handle him... Them, myself, Xen. Not barrel in there recklessly and risk yourself and kids. What did your Master say.”
Azazel glowers and strikes out with her hand, flames barreling out and going to envelop Kitt. The Echani was too slow to move. Instead, Azazel watches it wash safely over her form as she raises her arms to protect her face. Her shield was definitely seeming to work. “I am not my master! I could never... Never be that great. I already failed her expectations...” She grimaces and draws her hands to her face, flames flickering along her arms and beginning to burn away the cloth where it touched. “No, no, no... I will let them... But what if it is not enough... What if...” She frowns and swallows, “I don't want any of you to die, I can't let that happen, not like with Aggros...”
Azazel continues in that manner, repeating her failures of late time and time again. How everything went wrong. That she was not good enough. That she was even having to rely upon Gra'tua for help by sending his disciples. She was so swept up in her own self-depreciating cycle downwards she does not notice Kitt close the gap. Or the scorched hands reach up. Not until they brush aside her arms delicately and cup her cheek. Azazel blinks, eyes following along the wrists and the reddened flesh that even now burned with heat against her face. She chokes back a sob and shakes her head.
As she begins to open her mouth to begin anew, Kitt places a finger to her lips and gives her a stern look. “Azazel, shut up for just once in your life.” Shocked, and taken aback, the Sith falls into silence and looks at the officer uncertainly. She should punish her for speaking out against her... But then again, had she not told herself she would be better than that. She swallows and closes her eyes, nodding slightly.
Kitt takes a deep breath of relief and resumes her hands to cupping her cheeks as she murmurs, her tone softer now. “You are not inferior. You are not a failure. You are a strong woman and from what I saw, Traiserus was struggling against you just as much. The only difference was you had, have, have more to lose. So what... You are carrying. Yes, it is effecting you... I have seen it... You aren't sleeping... You are all over the walls... You are not behaving as yourself. But you are not weak.”
Azazel furrows her brow and nods slightly, “Perhaps... I am not... but... Maybe I will feel better... When we reach Korriban... Andrea...”
Kitt growls and draws her hands away in a fit. She lashes out at the air as she turns about and paces. Wheeling back around, “Why?! Why Andrea. She is a horrible woman! She does not respect you. She doesn't respect anyone! She probably just wants to use you and keep you as some pet in her collection!” Kitt, fuming does not relent or give Azazel a word in edge-wise. “She does not care about you or she would not have lied! She would not stir up fights with you so often. She would have spoken plainly to you, and given you reason to trust her.” She clenches her fists, “Don't you get it, Azazel?! There are people here that care about you. That trust you with their lives and have been nothing but honest and true with you! They would die for you. They worship you. Some love you.”
Azazel stands there, aghast and at a loss for words as Kitt strides back, squaring herself off to Azazel and despite her shorter stature almost seemed as if she was to loom over the sith. “So why Andrea... Why go back to her... Why do you give her your love... She can't possibly be what you deserve...”
Azazel frowns, taking a step back, “What is this about... This, coming out of nowhere...”
Kitt's outrage begins to falter as she takes another step forward.. And another... until she stands flush with Azazel and draws her close against herself. Standing on her tiptoes, she presses her lips to Azazel's in an awkward fumble. The sith hesitates. She fails to draw back, or respond. Kitt draws her mouth away, just a fraction and murmurs, “Can't you see what's here, right in front of you... Can't you notice me...”
Azazel still does not respond, apart from a hand raising and lightly touching her own lips. Confusion runs across her face as her brow knits and she stares at the officer... No, Kitt. She swallows and crooks her head ever so slightly. Unsure what she was talking about.
“Gra'tua... he's a nice guy... but he's a man obsessed... And Andrea just cares about herself... What makes her happy... Azazel... I love you... and I have... I used to try and get past it. You are older... You are my commander... And you are a Sith...” Her hands trace over Azazel's lips, alongside the sith's fingers before brushing back her hair and tucking it behind her ear. “You aren't like them, though... I see it time and time again... You can be so gentle and caring...” She loosely drapes her arms about the taller woman's shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “So why let yourself get dragged down by them...”
Azazel's breath begins to quicken and come shallower as she closes her eyes, tears threatening to flow. “Kitt... You're still... still so young... I don't think you know what you're talking about... Andrea is... and Gra'tua... And I'm...”
Kitt cuts her off, brushing her lips over hers once more, a little more certain in herself, “I'm not so young... And I've had a lot of time to think about this... So... What's wrong with me...”
Azazel trembles, beginning to draw away, “Nothing... Nothing at all, little dove.” She takes a deep breath, “But you should not have done that... You... You do not understand my feelings about those two... Or truly how I am.” Azazel frowns and cups Kitt's chin as the Echani begins to tremble and tears threaten the corner of her eyes, “Hush, hush...” Azazel lightly pecks at the corner of her lips. “Do not cry...” She kisses the other side. “This... is not about any flaw of yours... You are strong...” Her lips curl into a smile, “And you are fierce...” She leans in a little closer, “Fearless...” Her eyes stare into the Echani's own wide pair, quivering and cheeks flared red. “And you...” Her lips were barely away from hers before her expression goes cold and she softly squeezes her cheeks together with her hand making her lips pucker. “Are still young.”
“This is but a mere crush, little dove. For someone who has been there for you and showed you care... I am not saying your feelings are not real... Perhaps they truly are genuine... But you are neigh more than child and your heart is fickle and wild with youth.” She releases and draws away, capturing Kitt's arms and inspecting the burns on her hands. She sighs and lightly graces her fingertips over the injuries before shaking her head. “I am sorry for this. I lost myself... Come. We are going to the clinic, now.”
Kitt whimpers and does not follow as Azazel begins to turn to leave. She closes her eyes and begins to feel tears ready to begin pouring. Yet she cannot. She sighs and watches the Sith, even as she turns and stops with realizing Kitt was not following. Thinking Azazel was too far away to hear, she mutters meekly, “But I do love you...”
Azazel crosses her arms and balls her hand, drawing it inwards to herself and tugging Kitt forcibly to her side with the force as she hisses. “If you do, then prove it. Prove to me you aren't some lovesick child and I might reconsider and take you seriously... Until then, though... You will behave yourself and listen to me. And right now...” She lowers her gaze, relaxing and picking a soft reassuring coo to address her, “Right now someone I have watched grow and come to care for has been injured at my hands and I will see it rectified. So come now before I have to drag you... And I would rather not, I really am quite exhausted.”
Alphakoka said
Tempest, Jeremy's girlfriend doesn't really twitch.
In Brovo's post, she was apparently moving. Jeremy may not have had much of a head left if even at all... But fuck it, vampires, double-tapping that shit.
Herzinth said
Ah well, no one else died so I was successful in my own way.
Yes, yes you were. How could you be so silly. *waggles a finger*
Rayvon pants, a single hand moving back to grip the arrow through the piercing pain and ripping it out with a grunt. Adrenaline seizes her as hot blood begins to flow more freely from her wound at the remove of the projectile. She shudders and grips her sword numbly in her hands before moving over to the lover of Jeremy, seeing her only a few spaces away from the horribly crushed Jeremy. She watches the form twitch before gripping her greatsword tightly in her hands and going to execute her by severing her head. "I am sorry for this, but I shall give you peace," she murmurs, tears at the corners of her eyes. After doing this dirty deed, she would advance to Jeremy and do the same on the off-chance they might rise again. She could not be certain with vampires. The job done, she turns on her feet to the rest of the group, not without noticing the pillar of smoke towards the lake. "Those of you here able, I would ask you follow me to rescue the Queens. The rest of you, see to your wounds and the dead if you wish." She wipes her blade off on her cloak, murmuring a soft ritual of passing under her breath so that the fallen might find their ways peaceably into the next life and move on.
Maeven pants at the sight of the falling succubus before her and grips her weapon in one hand before swinging the blunderbuss under her arm and holding it tight there. Fafnir, for the first time in a long while was still and silent. She frowns and swings down from his neck, crouching down between his massive motionless legs and neck as she reaches out and grabs his soul stone tightly with one hand. She grunts as she gives it a heave and tears it from the construct for now to assure its safety as she shoves it in a pouch. That settled, she attempts to make herself small and hide as she takes out her powder horn and starts pouring it into her firearms and packing them with loads. She would not be caught off-guard without a blast ready to shoot into the face of whatever it was.
Georgia licks her lips, black eyes almost flaring with colour with the blinking light of the rigged sparkly plug. "Go, go, go. I got this," she shivers and holds the sparkly plug in her hands, getting ready to set it for a delayed explosion. "I'm fast, really fast right now. Can set and run." She beams and grabs the radio, announcing over the line to those defending, "Incoming sparkly plug behind y'all. Once I get it set, run 'cuz its gonna be Christmas." She seems rather chipper at the thought of giving these other mutants a present. A present of the best kind. Bright lights and loud bangs. With that, she gives Carolyn a big hug before darting off to set the bomb.
The Aberrancy drops out of hyperspace, stopped in its tracks by a gravity well reactor. Her power flickers off and her crew scrambles to restore systems and identify the threats. Outside, unbeknownst to the crew as they are in black-out conditions for visuals, a series of fighters are launched and the sensors begin to work, identifying the new prey in their trap.
Ibeth gets to work immediately, barking out commands. Restore shields, reacquire sensory arrays, acquire stability for life support and fix the weapon grid. Already, his crew was running to their stations about him and he listens as reports flood in.
The weapons were still down, as were sensors but they at least had a visual before them once more across the outward video feed in the bridge. The screens fuzz before displaying the scene before them. Ibeth picks out the targets before them before announcing, “Pirates. Move up priority of weapons and launch fighters and light support crafts. Fighters, on launch, initiate Flight V pattern and deliver guerrila strikes against enemy targets. I don't want to lose a soul.” He looks to his crew as they viciously assault their consoles with codes and commands, engineers were still running from system to system. “Life Support achieved!” is called out. “Shield integrity restored!” chimes in moments later.
Ibeth nods and redirects focus to movement and weapons. The sooner they could get momentum behind them and fight back, the better.
Before him, he could see the screen flare with streaks of light as the pilots all took initiative and launched with relative ease. The begin in a pattern and dive in to attack, only for their numbers to split apart and have to dart back around as the enemy blasts apart the lead wing. The MKIs on the strike begin circling back to reestablish their V flight pattern as a squad of MKIIs streak through, sidelong to the fighters of the enemy wing and scythe through them, halving their numbers.
Trumpeting through the ship, a cry comes out, “Sensor array active! And they've locked their weapons!”
“What's the status of my engines?!” Ibeth barks out, about to strike out at a lowly engineer leader.
“Still down, commander! We're working at it,” the engineer squeaks and darts out of the way. Ibeth rubs over his face irritably before checking the statuses of his small fleet. “And what the hell happened to my comms?!”
“You never asked for them sir!”
Just then, the Aberrancy is wracked by heavy fire, the shields taking the brunt of the impact but a battery of their weapons taking heavy damage and breaking into nothing but space scrap. Ibeth curses under his breath and calls out for reports.
“Engines connection reestablished!” someone pipes up.
Ibeth strikes a hand through the air, “Begin evasive maneuvers, Delta-Swing.” The Aberrancy lurches for a moment as the engines splutter and then start out full-burst, sending them forward before the controls shift and their visual begins to go askew, the enemy ship appearing to roll sideway as they take begin to turn and advance to a position under the belly of the beast. “Where's my weapons?!”
“Back online, commander! Orders?”
“Load and fire weapons, starboard, full assault,” he instructs, watching as rounds blast out to each side of his visual display but cannot reach them with the scope of the weapon arrays on the pirate vessel.
Fighters streak past their visual array as the MKI squads are utterly destroyed by a second launch party from the pirates. Scrap hits the outer visual display and a portion of the screen goes dark as it is ruined. Ibeth slams a fist down onto the console and suddenly before him great red panels burst forth:
'SHUTTING DOWN.'
'HAVE A GOOD DAY.'
Ibeth blinks and removes the visual apparatus, looking at the simulator panels with a disheartened expression. And he thought he was doing so well on this test run of Xen's latest sim-program. He definitely felt he had a better understanding of basic tactical routines. He would just have to remind the Kubaz to install something a little less touchy to being abused.
Ibeth gets up and starts marching back towards the halls. They were almost to the Tapani sector and so far things had been uneventful. He looks at his wristlink and finds a message waiting for him as the light blips red. He blinks in surprise, going to open it. The simulator was fairly impressive and he had not even noticed through the practice that anyone had tried to contact him.
As he starts the message, the screen flickers and Azazel starts back in a routine, initially irritated and asking where he was before appearing to, relax slightly and appear even accepting he was bothering with training routines. He looses a sigh of relief that this shoddy crew had the sense to relay that information, after all, Ilo was not the greatest of commanders and this crew had largely been left to her devices. He scrunches his face, scales rasping as he grimaces. “Great... The Sith wants me to babysit her sector while she runs off and has fun. When does Ibeth get a break, huh? No one ever asks, 'Hey Ibeth! Do you want a chance to meet a nice lady and get lucky?!' Nooo. Not me, not ever. Just work, work, work.”
A crew member looks at him, absolutely perplexed and unsure if the Noghri was talking to him. He coughs and gives a questioning look, pointing at themselves before Ibeth plants his face in his hand, just shaking his head. “Nothing, nothing. I wasn't talking to you. Get back to your maintenance routines.”
Azazel scrolls back through her messages, checking what there was to be learned. So far, a great deal of nothing. Xen had informed her that his blackmailed resources turned up nothing, and apparently her explorers got lost for several days looking for a new famous donut shop that marketed some off flaky new pastry called 'a cronut.' Her stomach turns at the thought of something and she finds herself racing to the closest waste recepticle.
Xen gives her a concerned look as he comes through the doorway and clears his throat, “Lady, Loremaster Yevin wishes a word?”
Azazel continues to heave, unable to respond for a few moments longer before she stands up and wipes the corner of her mouth. Still feeling woozy and nauseous, she carefully takes a seat a few paces away and looks up at Yevin, “Sorry, excuse me... What did you want?”
Yevin's face twists in uncertainty, tinged with a little queasiness of his own as he shuffles his feet, “Well, quite honestly, you to take a moment in the hygienic facilities after that...”
Azazel frowns and nods, standing up and going to her bathroom to freshen up and thoroughly clean her mouth. After rinsing for what had to be the fifth time, she staggers back and takes her seat, gesturing for the loremaster to continue.
He clears his throat and nods, “Yes, well, I believe I am onto something. Something big.” He readjusts his robes, obviously a bit awkward not amongst his books and data collections as he looks to Xen. The Kubax nods and waves for him to continue. “But, I want to cross-reference this information before I say one way or another if I have anything for you... Ah, could you, perhaps, refer me to additional resources on Sith and Jedi?”
Azazel hesitates for a moment, thinking to her holocron collection. She had given the loremaster access once or twice but was not quite ready to grant it again. “Actually, I could refer you to numerous sources. Unfortunately, a few are off the table. The Mecrossa Order is in a sorry state for providing anything as of this time.. And I am unsure if my Sith allies would be willing to divulge information at this time... Gra'tua perhaps, but he is off with that Lena to... Well, somewhere. I'm unsure the location.” She leans forward, toying with the options. Much of her holocron collection, she was far too uncertain of at this time given the source of it. Khaelesh's holocrons had already proven once to lead to great danger. She pinches the bridge of her nose before raising a hand. “I have it... The order on Bpfssh. I have not contacted them in some time and they in their own respects are keepers of lore. They follow the darkside as well. Perhaps not as inclusive as other sources, but it could be a start. If it becomes necessary, I will redirect you to another sith, if they allow it, but for now, they should be more than helpful.” She offers a smile and looks to Xen.
Xen furrows his brow in thought, digital lenses clicking over his cybernetic eyes before he nods, “It will do, though we have not had contact for a time. There of course would be concerns for his health, given the time. If they are more loyal than the scum of the Mecrossa, then indeed they will do. I, however, would see another joins him in this. One of your disciples they know. It would be a good exercise to see that they remember where their loyalties lie.”
Azazel nods slowly, a little dumfounded she had not considered that. “You raise a good point.” She looks over the loremaster who looked positively pale at the thought he might indeed be in danger in the pursuit of more knowledge. “Do not worry, I will send Tannus with you. As your personal pilot and protector. He has had dealings with these... individuals, and would be more than happy to assist you. He always seems ready for a new endeavor anyways. I feel he has grown beyond a simple pilot of late. It holds less... interest of his. A sith, through and through.” She smiles sweetly and nods, waving a hand to dismiss him as her wristlink begins to chime a warning that a new message was being patched through to her. She wrinkles her nose, standing, unsteady and stumbling at the unusual weight of her increasingly swollen belly and begins to walk to the conference room and communications.
Not even all the way to the communications room, her wristlink begins to chime again. She raises it to see a message flashed across the screen 'Aberrancy returned.' She nods, happily to herself and continues on, punching the button for the door to slide open before it swooshes closed behind her once more. She blinks in surprise seeing both Kitt and Xen there already before a holographic display of a single individual, swathed in a cloak that hid much of their features.
Azazel looks at them curiously and Xen shrugs. It seemed Azazel was having a little more trouble and needing more time to get around. She sighs and moves up to the console, taking a step onto the display and addressing the darkside cultist before her. “Yes? I hope I have not kept you waiting.”
The cultist bows their head and murmurs, “You have not, Dark Lady. I wait as you wish. Some of us, indeed, are still loyal to the Lady Hejaran, and in turn, to you.”
Azazel pauses before nodding, “That... Is indeed good to hear. Of course, I have my hesitance to accept such, given what I have born witness to.”
The cloaked figure chuckles, “Indeed, I do not loathe your position, Darth Azazel. Many I have once considered friend and ally now are indeed torn between yourself and this new Lord. But there are still some who know where our loyalties lie.”
Azazel leans forward, gripping the rails of the holographic pad to steady herself. Her lower back and legs were beginning to ache greatly after traversing the halls. “Indeed it would seem. Have you any information for me?”
The sole figure shakes his head, blue cascading about the room from his holographic form. “I am afraid not, Dark Lady. None except that there are those amongst the Order that know the traitor Jehemath and this false lord and witness it. We follow you and Braghda still and will be of assistance to you. Our ears will be yours and should we hear word, you will be amongst first to know, fear not.”
Azazel smiles slightly and gives a short nod, “Very well. I look forward to future word. I would find this Traiserus and see him pay for all this he has caused.” With that, she kills the feed.
Kitt and Xen look on with hardened gaze as Azazel clenches her fists tighter on the rail. “Well?” she snaps, looking at the pair.
Xen sits back, folding his arms behind his head and delegating the response officially to the Echani. “We can't trust a word we say. It could be a trap.”
“I am well aware, but a trap that could eventually lead us to the snake. We will keep a line open to this supposed traitor. Trust nothing they say, but indeed... Listen to what they might have to tell. Truth or not, we will have the upperhand in the end. Let them think we trust their words. If Traiserus thinks it is so easy to pull the wool over a true Sith's eyes, he will be sorely mistaken yet.”
Rei'Ki waits, fiddling with her lightsaber to adjust it to her own settings. She was still adjusting to the weapon she had taken from Azazel's display still. Despite holding her tongue, her mistress could still sense the prickling anticipation of the Dathomiri to reunite with her lover. A faint smile passes over the older woman's lips at the thought. Did she not feel the same when going to meet her own, after all.
Xen taps away at his keyboard relentlessly. Azazel wonders for a moment the last time she had seen him not doing something related to his duties of late. Perhaps it was time to force a leave upon him. He could use it, certainly. His performance had indeed been slipping recently, after all. He was likely overworked.
Janii herself had out a small screwdriver and was flexing her robotic hand manually. The vibroshivs flex out intermittently as she tests the internal mechanisms and assures they are up to par. She had been oddly quiet in her time on board.
Kitt, however, had a cap on her head, tipped down as she slumbers peacefully. Azazel shakes her head softly at the sight. Of anyone, the Echani was perhaps the most diligent in trying to follow duties aside from Xen. It was endearing, to a point. She would not have one of her elite warriors working herself to such ends, though. If she were to enter into battle, she would be performing far below average.
Hakkri and Bezol sat together, laughing and playing a game with their hands. It seemed to be a test of reflexes and as far as she could see, Bezol was beating him each time. Except for the occasional once or twice, though. She focuses her attention on the duo and feels it. A slight tug in the force moments before Bezol draws her hands into position. Hakkri was indeed attempting to use the force to manipulate how her hands rest, but it seemed the training she had given her crew to block such things had largely paid off. Indeed, Bezol hardly seemed to notice the subtle manipulations.
Azazel licks her lips and settles back into her chair as the doors swoop open to the Officer's longue. In strides the rest of her officers. Ibeth, bursting in boisterously and tossing something to Rei'Ki. A small souvenir from Togoria... Which leaves the disciple shrieking and tossing it into the air. Azazel blinks and narrows her eyes, trying to scrutinize what it was... And indeed, it was a small furry critter. She watches as Rei'Ki nurses her hand after having been bitten by the creature in its frenzy to escape after being thrown so rudely. The Sith stifles a laugh and watches as Lydavis strides in and sweeps the Dathomiri into her arms and kisses her deeply.
Hakkri makes a choking gagging sound, pretending to be sickened before Tannus snorts and clanks in, mechno-arms scraing against the metal walls. “Enough, Hakkri. I've been having to bear witness to them swapping spit far longer than you... And don't think I never caught you with some of the crew, either.”
Hakkri flushes and his ears lay flat as he turns aside, hand raising up and scratching the scruff of a small beard starting to come in. Azazel blinks upon noticing that. She could not remember a time Hakkri had not kept up on his appearances ritualistically. Something must still be bothering him. “Welcome back, it has been awhile. Anything to report.”
Ilo shrugs and takes a seat beside Xen, “Not much. Ibeth helped straightened out the routines on the Aberrancy well enough. Lydavis had us trying to track down a whole lot of slavers. Seems she has a crush on some big furry jedi man.”
Lydavis narrows her eyes and straightens up, looking past Rei'Ki's shoulder. “I have not. I just thought it would be worth an attempt to get him onto our side. It would do well to have one as strong as him on our side. He would be quite skilled and perhaps have alternative techniques to our own that he might add to our repertoire.”
Ilo snorts, “Right, right. And I'm a bantha-faced moron. You had the hots for him.”
Rei'Ki scrunches up her face, trying to picture this but eventually just slips an arm possessively about the Twi'Lek. “Yeah, right. Get over it, Ilo. She's just not into that sort.”
Ibeth snorts and rolls his shoulders, “Sure. But she did make an ass of herself trying to convince the Jedi. He's at least on her and Tannus' level. Seemed in a real funk, though. Guy living in a cave as if exiled, cuz his 'shaman' master died. Yeah, seems like a depressed nutjob to me.”
Azazel nods, taking all this in. “I'll check into it at a later time. I assume you all got the updates I sent?”
The others nod in unison. “Yeah, about that Sith. Jeeze, did he really drive you off that resort?” Lydavis inquires, obviously unconvinced.
“I am afraid so. It comes with encountering an enemy in his own den, while you are unaware of such.”
Lydavis frowns, nodding and looking to Janii. “It was not all a bust, though, it seems?”
Azazel nods and stands, struggling for a moment to get out of the deep seat. “Indeed. Everyone, this is Janii. For the time-being, she will be assisting us in the capture and punishment of this Lord Traiserus for the crimes he has committed against other nobles of the Tapani sector. Janii, this is everyone. She has some special rules for coming along with us and I ask you abide by them. She is not to be commanded. She is to be asked politely.”
Bezol snorts at this, as the others look at each other as if Azazel had just made a joke they did not quite comprehend. A metallic coughing noise comes from Janii as she clears her throat. “Indeed. I look forward to acquainting myself with all of you. That way I know who to turn into the authorities when this is all done.” Ilo's amused expression suddenly drops at those words as she looks incredulously at Azazel. Face still as passive and unmoving as ever, revealing no emotional, the monotone Janii rings out, “That. Was a joke. In truth, if you are all as... eccentric as those I have met already...” This time, her gaze averts to Hakkri and Bezol snickering in the corner, and the lights of her eyes beam red for a moment, “Then this should be an interesting experience for all of us.”
Azazel stands and nods, “Indeed. But, I think this concludes our discussions so far.” She gestures towards Ibeth, “Nemain, I trust you and Miss Xaff to work peaceably together. I will be leaving you both here in defense of the Tapani sector...” She hesitates for a moment. “Tannus, you will be escorting out Loremaster so that he might meet and research with the Order on Bpfssh. If it perhaps suits you, take the Oldship and a small retinue. I imagine they might have some possible potential amidst them, since it is a relatively nice place for force-users to spring up.” Tannus nods excitedly, looking to Xen for permission to take the ship. Xen nods, a bit subdued to agree to lend his private ship out.
Azazel smiles and nods, “Nicely done. Now that that is all sorted out... Those of you that remain, we will be splitting into two groups later on. I will have Xen contact and address those who will be meeting up with us later one. Some of Gra'tua's disciples, actually. But, part of you will be aboard the Aberrancy until we reach The Wheel. There, Xen and a few of you will split off and see about securing a Hypermatter Reactor Core for The Dagda so we might install it. The rest of us... We will be heading to Korriban.”
A hushed murmur goes through those new to arrive, uncertain about returning to Korriban so soon. Hakkri's expression darkens and he finally ceases his game with Bezol. Kitt, who had only appeared to be sleeping, tips her hat back, a grimace on her face. It appeared most everyone was against the idea of a return visit to the Sith tomb world.
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