ThreeDawg
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Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Feb 22, 2016 17:53:02 GMT -5
The officer turned with a crisp salute for Crii. His question didn't go unanswered, "We take the compound, my Lord. Our part in this invasion isn't finished, but this is the last combat we see for the day. Unless the Republic try to take back this outpost." The officer strode out into the clearing, Malrius' instructions still fresh on his mind.
"Troopers! Form up!" He called, and the Troopers jogged from their various positions of cover. "The outpost is ours. Thanks to our Sith Masters, many have been spared this day!" A short chorus of cheers came from the Troopers, although the officer himself couldn't feel such joy. As it was, Malrius' 'distraction' had led to the deaths of several troopers. More than he would like.
The remaining troopers formed two columns before him and as one they marched through the front gates. The sight of Nek's corpse caused a stir in the ranks, but with a sharp command from the Officer they filed into the compound where Malrius, Kairon and Tayla awaited them.
Malrius brushed the dust from his robes and straightened his back. Part of being a Sith was in the appearance. A Sith was strong. A Sith was indomitable. Malrius addressed his victorious troopers directly, "Soldiers of the Sith! Today you are the pride of our Kingdom. Our Empire! Today is a victory, the Republic are blind without this communications post. The planet is ours because we are the strongest! The weakest..."
Malrius rose his hand and gripped the air. Like a macabre puppet the corpse of Nek rose from its resting place. The head was limp, staring down at the hole that cleared straight through his chest. The perfect circle wound was burnt and black. A lightsaber. "This is what happens to the weak. They are worthless. Fodder to the strong." He thrust his arm aside and the body flew through the air to landed at Mako's feet. The Sith Lord caught his apprentice's eyes. For a moment he just stared, a short one but... It got his displeasure across.
Malrius turned back to the Troopers, although all energy that had arose from his pride was gone. Back was the harsh, direct, tone. "Secure the compound. Salvage what you must from the relay, secure this place from the Republic. You have your orders, officer."
Malrius stepped towards the front gate, raising a hand to instruct the Sith - mainly Crii, as the others did not need instructing - to follow him. As he did, the canopy across the clearing rustled violently as a ship appeared from thin air. The cloaking field fluttered as it dissipated. A plume of dust signalled the ship's landing. The ramp descended. His boots rang the metal as he ascended, coming out straight into the command centre. The escape of the Jedi was a shame on his apprentices. the identity of the mysterious shooter that had taken it upon themselves to fire at the Sith troubled him... But they had fled with the Republic, they would not get off planet. They would be found and destroyed along with the rest of these rebellious scum.
"Master?" Neeyab said, already waiting by the corridor to the cockpit. He waved her forward and stood by the holo-table, waiting first for the other Sith to file into the ship... All except Nek. More-so than before the attack on the compound he looked serious... Not pridefully so as a commander of the strongest forces in the galaxy. Rather as a man determined to reach a personal goal. "We are to explore ruins." He said rather abruptly, gone was his bluster.
Malrius tapped at the table, searching for something. The landscape flew by, stopping at various structures both recent and very, very old. None appeased his want. Eventually... He stopped. The corpse of a star destroyer erupted from the moon's surface, amidst the rubble of a ruined temple of some sort. "Here..." He waved a hand at Neeyab, who quickly ran to the cockpit.
Like a man possessed, he stared at the ruin. Eyeing the lines of the star destroyer. Planning, plotting. None of his apprentice's had been told of this plan. In truth, he was only just thinking it to himself. What drew the Sith to this ruin was beyond him... For now.
The Phantom Pain shuddered as it left the ground and Malrius looked up to the Sith gathered before him.
The Phantom Pain didn't stick around long. Over half of the troopers were inside the compound itself, some in the garage salvaging what they could from the Republic war machine. A handful stood over the wreckage of the control room itself. It was a mess. Burnt metal and exposed wires sparking everywhere. It's take them a good few weeks to get this back up and running for the Sith's use. If they ever did, it could just need scrapping entirely.
The rest were stacking bodies outside the walls - their own dead were being laid out in lines. There was honour in death, at least to these Troopers. Nekar had been brought out, laid off to one side. In truth the soldiers didn't know what to do with the body. He was a failure to the Sith, Malrius had made that clear. Weren't failed apprentices just thrown out into the canyons on Korriban for the scavengers? Even the officer didn't know, as he watched them drag the hefty body outside. He was stood over the line of his own dead. He knew every man here, down to their first name. He may have treated them rough, but he trusted them like a well maintained blaster. It was a sad sight to see them go.
It was a worse sight to see the compound erupt in a blazing flash of blue and orange. Within but a moment the Officer was thrown to his back, searing pain striking his face. Cries echoed through the ringing in his ears.
It was all he could do to lie there and accept his pain both inside and out. The Republic had done it. They'd turned this battle into a war.
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Salvahkiin
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My Siren's name is Brick, and she is the prettiest.
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Post by Salvahkiin on Feb 23, 2016 19:01:40 GMT -5
Mako stood near Crii, collecting his thoughts. He'd killed Nekar, the apprentice that could have been a threat, in the near future. Securing power was one of the Sith ideals, but Mako, in hindsight, did not consider the consequences of such an action. His master would most likely be displeased at best, exacting justice at worst. Mako did not want to be executed. He had a healthy fear of death, a fear that would very much so drive him to survival. But he hoped for a glorious death, preferably fighting many Jedi, and a gruesome sight of corpses on the field.
They were ordered inside the compound, and Mako did not wish to dawdle. He briskly entered through the gates, staring emotionless at Nekar's corpse as he passed. His head turned to watch Malrius. His master did not even need to look at Mako, he felt the displeasure. Mako took his position in the crowd.
Mako listened closely to every word that left Malrius' mouth. Mako's heart jumped some when Malrius' hand snatched the air in front of him. He snatched Nekar's corpse, and brought it forward, then flinged it at Mako's feet. His eyes caught Malrius' and it inflicted fear into him. He lowered his head in shame. Not long after, Malrius left, and the apprentices followed at his heel.
The Phantom Pain landed, and they all entered. All of them assembled around the map, and they watched Malrius intently, he was searching. What for? They'd most likely know soon. The silhouette of a star destroyer appeared, and that seemed to be Malrius' destination. Mako's thoughts lingered on the voice in his head. Though the voice didn't belong to him.
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Post by Zenios on Feb 24, 2016 0:23:57 GMT -5
The Echani didn't let being ignored get to him too much. It was fairly uncharacteristic of him to openly mention he would have liked to see all his peers dead, even in jest. Especially given how close to the truth that statement was, less attention drawn to it was only a good thing. Kairon hardly minded attention, but he was definitely wounded and approaching vulnerable. Drawing the ire of his fellow Sith with something approaching a threat was hardly a good idea. His end goals were power and survival; he should have been more careful than to even risk that at a time like this.
He was already starting to miss having someone who would trade barbs with him, though, or at least do more than grunt or run to Malrius. Having the ability to cut loose like that, both verbally and physically, had been incredibly refreshing - and it almost worried Kairon that he'd gotten a taste of it. He had a feeling he was going to have a harder time not assuming dominance.
Oh well. Maybe it was about time to take his rightful place as the foremost of Malrius' apprentices, after all. Or maybe it was time to set off on his own, find his own apprentice - but only as long as he could find the right kind of apprentice. One with a knack for repartee, but with maybe a little less willingness to kill him in his sleep.
Kairon rolled his shoulder a bit as his Lord addressed the troopers who'd tagged along, more out of reflex than anything - as if he'd singed the roof of his mouth and couldn't stop tonguing it. This, of course, hurt quite a bit more than that, even after some level of medical treatment. He had a hard enough time keeping the pain off of his face, especially now that he was starting to come down off of the adrenaline; he couldn't quite conceal the wince. Maybe that would go unnoticed. Everybody else seemed preoccupied--with, he noticed, Malrius' lifting of the Nek's body. Silvery eyes widened a bit as the corpse dropped at Mako's feet, their owner more amused by the implication than anything.
A laugh came dangerously close to escaping his lips. Had Mako really been fool enough to kill Nek'arado with a weapon that only five--well, six if you counted Falria--people here carried, in a situation where there could be no doubt he was to blame? That was... impressive, even for Mako. Kairon would have thought he'd known better than to risk that, but he guessed he couldn't be too upset. Mako's error just saved him a step down the line, maybe even two depending on how else Malrius reacted to his underlings killing each other. Still, it's a shame you deprived me of the pleasure, he couldn't help but think as he eyed his rival.
Boarding the Phantom Pain, making a thirty-second stop to change into his lighter, more customary robes and spare himself further heat exhaustion, and rejoining the other Sith in the briefing room was little more than a blur to Kairon. He took a position near Tayla, standing farthest from Mako so as to avoid any potential... collateral damage in the event that the other apprentice or their Lord lost control for a moment. Not that he minded pain; he was used to it, but being stabbed was something he would have liked to avoid, indeed.
"To what end, Lord?" he finally asked as Malrius looked up. Absent from Kairon's tone was much of the flippancy it normally possessed; the--how had Falria put it?--the dick with the weird teeth hardly appeared to be in the mood for back talk, and if nothing else, Kairon had learned how to ask for further explanation without trying to strike a nerve. He certainly didn't intend to question their sudden change in task, but it would have been nice to know just what they were looking for.
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Post by Court Baron Butters on Mar 7, 2016 23:32:35 GMT -5
I've lost every last word I've used to describe battle... Crii thought to himself eyeing the fields that lined the staging ground of the now finished battle, the commander saluted to him, and quickly ran off, and Crii neglected to even recognize the man. I was sure that if I continued to be exposed to it, it would become normalized, But Crii was wrong, the smell of the battlefield, of the burnt flesh that littered the area was soaking into the grass now, as troopers began pilling up the bodies, and taking tallies, Crii made his way to the corpses of men that had fallen, republic, and imperial alike as he strode to the front gates of the compound.
As he passed by he touched each one on the face, whispering gently to himself, or to something. Perhaps not all of them needed to die.
There was one body he had found to be particularly disturbing, a bolt had clearly found its way into the crease between the soldiers shoulder, and chest, but the disfiguring wound was not the most gruesome component, as Crii lifted off the shoulders mask he found that it was a familiar face, the face of the soldier he watched as their ship descended into the battlefield, the face of the young quivering man, worried for his fate in the combat zone. The face of a man reassured by Crii's use of the force.
A body was just being tossed towards a wall, the limp body of Nek tumbled as Crii entered the room, already disgusted of the sight before him. He tried ignoring it and zoning out, simply shuffling to the ship deck of the phantom pain as it landed, he was being unusually quite, this is something that might not be so noticeable were it not for the frown on his face. Battle took a lot out of him, and stamina was not among those things.
He stood at the windows, after no orders were given by Malrius. Simply staring now, at wreckage of a ship he had seen countless of before, at least the abandoned stature of the place might mean few corpses for sensitive eyes.
The Sith have returned, and Crii has checked out.
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Post by Artemis on Mar 20, 2016 21:34:57 GMT -5
Sirona's question about where they were headed finally drug the words back out of Falria's throat. She realized as she began to speak just how dry it was. Her words came out almost in a croak, but she schooled herself to the Jedi serenity she had been taught to uphold. “We're going to an old temple, near the ruins of a star destroyer. My master is there, and. . .” she trailed off then, thinking better of what she was going to say. Falria had thought to tell Sirona how her master had been going mad, how her thinking of something awakened in a temple wasn't too far off. But her mind was back to planning now, hoping perhaps she could make use of the woman's ship. If the Sith invasion fleet had taken every one of the republic outposts here, it was unlikely Falria would find any escape short of stealing a Redeemer ship, if she and the handful of troopers could even manage to find one of their outposts.
As she contemplated just what to say, the feeling of dread came over her, and she nearly groaned. It was the Force, but up until now was something she refused to even acknowledge as often as not. In truth, it made her feel . . . dirty, just being around it. While the feel of the dark side around the Sith had been unsettling, the feeling continued to grow stronger as the shape of a crashed star destroyer appeared over the rise of the trees. It took all her concentration not to empty her stomach, and Falria gritted her teeth in disgust. What I wouldn't give for a good bath right about now.
If Sirona was strong enough with the Force, she'd probably be feeling it as well now. This was most likely the reason her master had been going mad. “I'd guess this was the source of your visions Sirona. There's a temple ahead that my master has been investigating. Most likely it's why neither of us could feel anything from the fleet.” Hopefully that admittance would give the other woman a little bit of confidence. Better to make as good of friends with her as possible if she wanted to ask for a ride later.
“I'd prefer not to do this, but I can't leave without at least trying to bring my Master, you understand,” she said. No point in hiding it, she'll know soon enough anyway, Falria thought as the speeders cleared the line of trees, moving into open fields sparsely covered with bushes. “I believe he's gone mad in his time spent here. I don't know that I could convince him to leave, but he ordered us to come here.” She could only hope the man had some sort of plan. It took some further concentration, but she finally managed to push the foul feeling of rage away from herself.
It wasn't long after that the massive temple appeared on the edge of the grassy plains. As it grew in their sight, the speeders approaching it quickly at their high speed, the grass and trees became more sparse. The wreck of the star destroyer obscured a portion of the horizon now, the large command tower looming well above the front of the temple. All the ground in front of the temple was dirt for at least a hundred meters, as though the land itself stayed clear of the ancient Sith structure.
“Place gives me the creeps,” Dor said as they slowed, pulling up in front of the temple, speeders lowering to where Falria's feet could almost reach the ground. She had spoken with him after one of her excursions that he had accompanied her on, but he was unable to feel what she felt. Still, the troopers didn't like it at all either, as though the presence of the dark side this strongly affected even those that were unable to sense the Force.
“Let's just find Master Fain and leave as soon as we can,” she announced to the troopers as they slowed to a halt in front of the temple, before addressing Sirona again. There was something else she had considered, though it sent shivers down her spine and nearly ruined her concentration at holding the feel of the dark side at bay. “Sirona, your visions. My master was drawn here as well. I would ask that-”
Her question was cut off as her master came down the front steps of the temple, looking old and wrinkled. In truth, he seemed to have gained twenty years since they'd come to the planet. Master Fain reached them in short order, glaring at the group. His face gave off the sense of exhaustion, eyes squinting and bloodshot, lips curled in a snarl. He was breathing heavily as though he had just run a marathon or been in a fight, and sweat dripped from his forehead.
“Sith!” he barked, and Falria nearly jumped in the air as he pointed a crooked finger at her. “Have you gone mad girl?” It seemed he'd forgotten his reluctant acceptance over the holocomm and ordering her to run. Her master scoffed again, eying the lot of them. “Sith! Bah! Likely the Imperials have broken the truce and played you all for fools.” Even the troopers held silent, looking at Falria as though she was supposed to protect them from her master's disbelief. “And who's this? Some kind of spy?”
Falria glanced at Sirona, mastering the rage building inside her. She needed to focus again, it was too easy to let your anger get the best of you here. “She can sense the Force, Master. She helped us escape, as you instructed.” Her voice was all level calm and politeness, though she wanted to slap the man across the cheek. “We need to leave master, before we're too late and they have the whole moon in a blockade.”
He glared at her,scowling again, seeming to forget Sirona for the time being. “Nonsense. We'll be staying right here, understand Padawan. Or do you think your foolishness wise?” There was no doubt about it, Master Fain was very intentionally trying to shame her in front of the lot of them, and it was all she could to keep herself in check. Stupid old man, stupid temple, she thought. If he could not be convinced, they would have to leave him behind. She would not die madman, no matter who he had been.
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Post by aardvarklord on Mar 29, 2016 20:44:30 GMT -5
Sirona's immediate thoughts upon hearing of the Jedi's master's location was alarm--she had already had her share of what those blasted temples had to offer, and she certainly didn't want any more to do with them. However, while she disliked the idea of entering one of those things, or letting other people onto her ship to boot, her desire to find a proper master and the need to let the Republic know about the Sith situation both took priority. So, while she didn't say anything, she was mentally preparing herself to go into yet one more of those foul, unholy temples and get her master out.
And as they approached, she found that she would need it; the feeling of the dark Force on the proverbial horizon made Sirona shudder slightly, the oppressive force settling on her and sending a chill through her. However, besides the physical shiver that Falria might have felt, she didn't have much in the way of words to be shared. Nor did she have much to say about the topic of the temple being the cause of her visions, at least specifically, doubting that this specific was the cause, but preparing herself in case the temple caused them anyways. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. Though, the mention of her master being mad made her more than a little nervous--especially considering the way that she'd been affected lately. As it was she was only recently starting to clear her head of its influence, and she didn't know how long she could hold out against one strong enough to hold a jedi master as its akk dog. Still, she needed a ride to the Mahrii... but...
As the temple's architecture came into view, she very quickly started to feel a scratching at her mind, like a sandbag made of sandpaper, settling on her and pressuring her mind. While she didn't realize it, her view of it was darker and slightly rusty as compared to Falria or the troopers--really, it just made it seem all the more frightening to her. It made her shiver, but again she didn't say anything about that, instead taking a caution into foremost account, saying into her comm. in her home tongue, "Sirona to Mahrii, if I give any unreasonable orders, especially getting you guys near a temple, don't obey and get out when possible. However, note we might have... allied company--that is exempt from that order." There was no response from the other side, but the duo of quick clicks told her that it was confirmed and acknowledged. Hopefully all was well. Taking a deep breath, she didn't say anything as they pulled up to the front, instead joining the other two as they came to a halt and approached the temple.
Then, before the padawan could give any advice, her master arrived... and it seemed that Sirona had either been spending far less time around these temples, or this one was far nastier than the one she was dealing with. She too jumped when the man came out, briefly moving to lift her rifle before realizing who it was... and even then she kept it in front of her chest as the man started chewing into his apprentice, insulting her and casting into doubt everything she had told him, everything that they had witnessed. As the man screamed, Sirona heard echoes of the words in her head, hostile snips accompanying it of, 'she's a fool... they lie... there is no danger here...' Of course, once he turned his attention to her, Sirona shrunk back a little, not helped by the whispers of 'deciever! Spy! Imperial!'; she wound up crouching down slightly in preparation to run in case he tried to attack her, failing to find her words through the distraction. Thankfully, Falria stood up for her and as the man basically insulted the girl, trying to bring her to heel by peer pressure the Chiss finally had it, deciding that she had to make an attempt at getting the jedi to see what was happening to him... or at least get Falria free of him. "I was told Jedi were calm and emotionally controlled," she responded coldly, her ruby eyes glaring back at him, hoping that there was some remnant of the man inside, going off of the teachings that she'd been receiving from her own 'master' as a basis, though she was definitely coming up with it from the top of her head and trying to be outwardly as calm and collected as she could, "Sith or Imperial, your apprentice came here to warn you of them and escape with you. I intend to help her in that, and whether we leave with or without you is entirely on you. Either way, my own conscience is appeased and we'll warn both your people and mine of what we've found." Of course, in her haste she didn't address the spy issue, because frankly she was (of sorts) and the distracting voices were keeping her from coming up with a good response.
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ThreeDawg
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Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Apr 8, 2016 6:13:40 GMT -5
Malrius breathed deep the clean, cold, air of the ship. It wasn't the air that satisfied him, of course, it was the subtle feeling of the dark side of the force as they neared ever closer to the temple. Its presence had washed over them suddenly, like the Phantom Pain had broken into a barrier and was now surrounded with its energies. It's power. He looked down to his pilot, "Can you sense it, little one?" he said, his voice uncharacteristically awed, sounding almost kind, "The dark side is strong here, almost as strong as Korriban."
Neeyab stiffened at his words, a response deeply engrained in the Miraluka. She tried hard to focus herself, she couldn't afford to show any weakness flying the ship - after all it was her only purpose. "Y-yes," she responded, she was ashamed of her stuttering... So she corrected herself, composed, "Yes. I see it, Master." To the Miraluka the scene before them, as they thrashed trees around in their wake, was one of simple beauty. The brightness of life she expected from this planet was muted and grey, almost oppressed. As she looked towards the temple the land became darker, almost black - but not as the other species would see it. This darkness was not for lack of light, was not a barrier to vision, she could see perfectly the shadow-corpse of the Star Destroyer at the heart of this darkness.
The darkness did have an effect on the girl though. It seemed to chill her body to the core, made her bones ache... But it made her heart race with raw fire, passion unbridled. Every morning she awoke from her nightmares into a world of fear, but this darkness was terrifyingly beautiful. This darkness... Strengthened her, straightened her back, fortified her resolve. There was no fear anymore, this was not the planet she would die upon.
Tayla sat along one of the benches near the holotable, staring at her datapad as usual. She was looking at the schematics of a star destroyer, turning the image to the angle seen on the holotable. It would largely be a maze, if they had to go through it. She hoped they didn't, access to certain lower sections of the vessel required some... Disturbing leaps.
She looked up, eyeing the other Sith in the room. There was a weight upon them, a question left unanswered that burnt on her lips. She shouldn't care enough to ask, but the curiosity couldn't be contained. She lay the datapad down on the low table in front of the benches, "What happened down there? To Nek."
The Phantom Pain wasn't taking as direct a route to the temple as the Jedi had, the crew didn't even know the padawan and her troopers had headed that way. All the Sith probes had picked up about this particular wreck was that the area was supposedly frequented by scavengers or some other armed band that was pouring over the wreckage in the area. Perhaps they were whatever the Republic was defending its comm outpost from, but guesswork was not something the Sith condoned. Malrius could agree with that mentality, so for now they would skirt the ruins to reach the entrance.
They, after all, had all the time in the world. This world was theirs now, the ruin wasn't going to be going anywhere anytime soon.
((P.S., happy birthday Returned! I'll give the Republic scum (and Chiss friend) some time to have a proper conversation with their MASTA. If you need more time than this rotation that's fine, I'll just offer out the same thing I did Zen and Butters earlier in the thread and allow you to have a back and forth until I deem it right to come in and pop a cap in dat ass.))
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Salvahkiin
Archer
My Siren's name is Brick, and she is the prettiest.
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Post by Salvahkiin on Jul 2, 2016 7:33:02 GMT -5
Mako asked no questions, mostly out of desire not to spark his Master's ire. But his thoughts lingered on the foreign yet familiar voice. Foreign in the way that he'd not heard it before, familiar in the way he felt. It felt like his own, yet stronger. A far more familiar voice broke his concentration.
"What happened down there? To Nek."
It was a question Mako hoped wouldn't be asked, and it was one he was unprepared for. He'd hoped Malrius' shows of power would've sufficed as reasoning, but that was not the case. Would he answer truthfully, or attempt a lie. He'd never been good at lying. To those he considered below him, or the one above him. He'd never had reason to lie, reason to question, reason to presume. He'd follow his orders, like the weapon he was.
Mako chose silence as his answer. The others could guess, or reach conclusions. The only one he'd answer to was Lord Malrius, and the question didn't come from him. The voices in his head, he could understand them now. He needed Malrius' guidance. Mako rose from his seat and sought his Master out.
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Post by Zenios on Dec 13, 2016 20:47:38 GMT -5
Kairon's position off in the corner of the briefing room was safe from Malrius's wrath--but, it seemed, it was hardly safe from questions from those less perceptive than he. He looked up and over at Tayla, her back turned to him, with the faintest of cocky smiles on his lips. I know something you don't know, he thought to himself with just the slightest of a singsong tone. He could have done a wonderful job of holding this above her head, if he'd felt like it. He massaged his injured shoulder, trying to both will the bacta to heal him and to get used to the pain a little better, as he spent a brief second considering how to approach this.
"I'm sure Lord Malrius wouldn't mind filling you in," the Echani said nonchalantly, deciding he didn't feel like cluing her in just yet. "He certainly seems incensed about what happened." He shot Mako a glance that revealed as much amusement as it did distaste. He would have at least waited another assignment to kill Nek; the Twi'lek's particular talents as another close-quarters specialist might have proven useful in this next part, or what of it he could piece together. Not to mention that killing his fellow apprentice was a reckless way to make sure everyone around could see - and that just had never been Kairon's style.
He gave a bit of a mental shrug, not quite comfortable enough in his shoulder's recovery to follow with a real one, as he sidled up next to the Chiss to peer over her shoulder at the datapad in her hands. "A Star Destroyer's schematics?" he asked, as much to confirm that was what he had seen as to express some mild surprise. "I was under the impression we were heading to investigate one of the ancient temples on this moon?" It certainly wouldn't have been surprising to discover that Malrius had misled him and the others, but he wasn't aware of any crashed Star Destroyers around here anyway. Wreckage from the first planet-killing superweapon, to be sure, but it had been traveling without a fleet when it was destroyed.
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Post by Court Baron Butters on Dec 16, 2016 1:58:39 GMT -5
Crii's head was spinning with conflicts, the damage done on the planet was creeping into his conscious mind. Questions arose, could lives have been saved. Was there more that could have been done. How can he continue to fight these wars. Crii had decided to remedy these questions in the method he always chose, when confronted with similar intrigues... Through meditation.
Crii prepped by finding a clear and open place in the remnants of the ship, as he passed through the corridors of the Phantom Pain, soldiers were jogging by, following orders, and performing maintenance. One group was counting bodies that had been assembled on the ship, recovering ordnance from them. A blaster was pulled from among their ranks, it was would be no use to the soldier now. Crii approached the officer who was holding it, and pulled it from his hand.
'My lord!' the officer sounded out, startled by the forwardness of Crii. "If these rifles are of no use to the men anymore, I should like to take one." Not familiar with the Sith lords intention, the officer allowed Crii to take the blaster, and avoid the wrath he anticipated he would receive.
He found his way to a relatively quite part of the ship, and placed both the rifle and his saber upon on the floor. His weapon unfolded itself as he crouched on the ground preparing to meditate. One of Crii's most often performed rituals involved simultaneous reflection on the force, and mechanical reconfiguration. Both his pike, and blaster began rotating around his body, the pieces of the blaster began unfolding, and redundant components were stripped out and flung across the room. Crii knew that the broken activating switch on his lightsaber, and the one in the rifle certainly wouldn't match, but given his technical know-how he began altering the circuitry of the blaster. Pieces of which dislodged, and then began moving into the recess of his saber.
It was a make-shift job, but for the time being it had fulfilled the task needed, his saber began flickering on and off in the air as it buzzed around him. After trouble shooting with the new switch, he had eventually managed to get the damaged end functioning once more.
... The lightsaber directly in front of the Arcona.
He clutched out his hand receiving the blade, and allowed it to fold back down. His meditation was complete, and much like his saber was fixed... for the time-being, so was his spirit. The Force had shown him the way.
He made his way back into the briefing room of the Phantom Pain noting Kairon, and the young Chiss. He positioned himself by a wall near the two, and began listening in on their conversation.
'I was under the impression we were heading to investigate one of the ancient temples on this moon?'
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ThreeDawg
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Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Jan 11, 2018 7:18:48 GMT -5
The Phantom Pain thrummed eagerly as Neeyab pushed the engines ever onwards. Malrius strode out of the cockpit towards the central room, eyeing the holodeck and the four Sith that had arrayed themselves under his command.
Mako sat in a weak and brooding silence that seemed to scream of guilt. This was in stark contrast to Kairon and Tayla. The two were discussing their destination.
“You’re not incorrect, Kairon. A temple is our destination. A place I plan to break before the Inquisition can get their hands on it. Tayla, your datapad.”
With a subtle movement of his hand, the datapad left Tayla’s own and floated gently to his. He flicked his fingers over the data pad and one of the screens on the far side of the cabin sparked to life. The ID tags of probe SX-102-76F filled the screen. Diagnostics. Whereabouts. Recordings.
A highly distorted blue image of the jungles of Yavin 4 flashing by the probe droid appeared. It’s characteristic whirr’s and beeps echoed from the screen. The image sped up, accelerating to a point where the jungles became thin and eventually parted for dark ground.
The distortion of the colour didn’t mask the focus of the droid’s attention. The monstrously large metallic corpse of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer lay half buried, half wrecked at the centre of the clearing. Various parts of the vessel had been shed for miles around, many consumed by the jungle and others scavenged by mortal hands.
A section of the vessel’s aft had crunched into one of the planet’s many ruins, a tall pyramid-like structure constructed of blocks of solid black stone. The compound surrounding the structure had been largely levelled by debris, but what remained stood still in stark contrast to the bare ground of the clearing, the finest Imperial metal and the jungle in the distance. The recording of the probe droid stopped abruptly. The ruins remained on screen.
“After Vader lost the Star Destroyer to the rebel scum over Yavin, a large fleet of Imperial ships were dispatched with the express purpose of removing the rebels by force where the Death Star could not. The battle saw heavy losses on both side. Including IDS Fearless, the vessel you see before you. The ship’s captain had managed to secure this... landing, it is assumed all hands were lost. No recovery was successful.”
Malrius rewound the recording, stopping at a point with an overview of the clearing. It was a huge bare patch of ground, remarkably so, and almost perfectly circular around the complex of ruins.
“I believe the Fearless crashed here for a reason. We lost contact with the droid that transmitted this recording lost contact when it tried to examine the damage on the ruins themselves. The Imperial data we had on the entire crash site was... lacking. Corrupted, I assume on purpose.”
“Somebody was hiding something here.” He raised his head, closing his eyes momentarily as the wave of dark power that permeated the area around the ruins rushed over him, “I can feel it. I’m sure you can too.”
“My lord,” Neeyab interjected over the ship’s speaker, “we are arriving at the clearing.”
The ship let out a shudder as it passed through something.
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