Wearing: 90 Suit (http://starwarsrp.ne...146048-90-suit/
Armed with: Heliosphere (Curved Hilt Orange Lightsaber)
Shooting Star: (http://starwarsrp.ne...-shooting-star/
Objective: BYOO (Defeat Brain Demon Cultists)
The Dark Side never rested, and neither did Syd.
But she could take no solace in the fact she did not lack for purpose. The whole galaxy was fighting each other. She would never run out of dark siders to kill even if she killed a thousand per day for the rest of her life.
She could take no solace after learning the truth. About herself. About how once, long ago, she had been no different from the ones she put to the torch.
Her life essence, the very thing that held her together, had been pilfered from a murdered Sith Lady, Darth Phyre. Even her appearance was based off her. They had literally torn the flesh and blood from the skeleton in a ritual. As her memories had started to faintly return, the gnawing claw that was her programming compelled her to keep killing Dark Force Users.
Phyre had been an animal, a sadist, cruel and bloodthirsty even by the standards of the Gulag Plague's various fringe warlords and psychopathic Dark Jedi. Her fate had been exactly as cruel as she had lived. It had been exactly as cruel as the deaths Phyre had given out to others. Syd did not regret not being Phyre anymore (Though even this lack of regret struck her at times as awfully convenient to her nature as a weapon, and made her wonder just how prepared the Man in White had been.)
Ever since learning the truth about that evil thing
she had once been, Syd had devoted her considerable skills in archeology to investigating the one who had turned her into a weapon. The Man in White really was an enigma...no photos of him without his mask, from what photos of him existed, and those could be counted on one hand. He had never given any hint of his back ground, and Syd had never asked. He was her creator. There had only been obeying him and nothing else. Save the purging of the Bogan worshippers, of course. But there was nothing. The Resistors had died with him.
Since the revelation, Syd did what she often did when uncertain...take care of the dirty jobs for the SJO. With the negotiations in Yurb City taking place Syd had been sent by the SJO to investigate the presence of possible witches and cultists operating in the isolated outskirts of the arid planet, in a deep basin of sand. The Lurvon who had been going into this area had not come out recently. They knew the type of work Syd did. If they had sent her, it meant they suspected someone was going home in an urn. That is, if she even bothered to collect the ashes. (She never did.)
As she prepared aboard her vessel, unboxing a suit she used for specialty cases, she thought on her own coldness and indifference to the fate of whatever Dark Side user was here that warranted a free barbeque: Was that just her getting jaded to the work because of her programming, or was that a holdover of her human persona.
As horrific as what had been done to Phyre was, one could not deny that if they wanted a callous weapon, they could not have chosen a better base for it. It requires a special kind of disposition to be a living flame thrower and not bat an eye at the Sith Lord melting in front of you.
One thing was certain...Syd must find a way to break her programming. If she was to kill, even for a good cause, then it must be her choice.
She didn't want
to be Darth Phyre again. That truth, that core from which she had emerged, disgusted and revolted her to no end. But so much was still hazy. It scared her.
Syd hadn't told anyone in the SJO of course. Part of it was a muted fear, the other a muted shame.
The suit she wore as she stepped out was skin tight, almost painted on, its surface highly reflective and almost chromium like, the arms and legs gold in color, the torso, ankles, and forearms navy blue.
The 90 Suit was not something brought out except for significant magic related threats. She had felt it even in orbit. She knew how vulnerable she was to the very thing that made her so powerful. No chances would be taken.
Syd flew through the air, letting the hot, draw temperature nourish her as she gathered strength to face whatever was waiting. She began to see evidence of chunks of partly vitrified sand everywhere, sensed the faint cries of of the beings that had once inhabited the shifting sands being snuffed out and consumed. Syd landed, noting how quiet it was. The air felt hot and dry, pleasantly lacking moisture to her sensibilities.
She felt the darkness everywhere.
Syd walked through lifeless feeling sands, through air that lacked windflow. More chunks of Vitrified Lurvon. Who could have done this--?
She felt the spells hit her, some great ball of red light that hurled her back, tried to rip her life force away. It might have worked, had she been organic. She owed a lot to the suit she wore as well.
Syd floated up, her eyes glowing orange as she spotted her attacker, a middle aged woman with a large main of blond hair, her eyes a sulphur, moldy yellow color. Her skin looked pale and almost like rotting synthskin. She was clad in a tight fitting white combat suit, a jagged black crescent painted onto the midsection and her forehead.
"So pleased you could join us..." The witch hissed softly, almost distantly.
"You won't hold that sentiment long, trust me on that..." Syd muttered, her curved hilt already in hand.
"This world held little for us, admittedly. Even with the remarkable abilities of the locals. Though we have amused ourselves thus far, drinking the life force of the fools who wandered here...it is you we actually wanted to draw the attention of."
"If you wanted a barbecue, you could have just asked..." Syd snapped. Then the symbol on her torso and head caught her attention.
"I thought me and the Resistors wiped all of you out..." Syd growled, bracing for the inevitable.
"The Jedi always think they wipe all of their enemies out. Yet here we are." The witch sneered, pointing at her.
"You have long been a source of fascination to us...a being held together by magic alone...imagine what you could do with that, were you not a Jedi Slave..."
"Can't, unfortunately. But I can imagine what you
would do with such a nature. All the more reason to terminate you with extreme fervor." Syd replied, feeling a quiet internal distress at how it was so natural for her to want to kill someone just because they used the darkness.
Her experience with Kahlil Zambrano only added to the disquiet. To think she had been this close to mindlessly murdering him. It repulsed her, how little it would have bothered her, had it gone the other way.
But it would not bother her the way these particular followers of the Bogan were about to bite it.
A shifting in the sands gave away the threat from behind. Syd reversed the position of her hilt, activating the orange blade behind her, impaling a which camouflaging herself with The Force through the chest. Syd didn't even bother looking as her first victim was partly sliced in half by the weight of her own body dragging her down the blade.
"You must have a hideout. Show me where it is and I will spare you and you alone. The others will die." Syd ordered.
The blond witch cackled, producing a curved hilt of her own, a deep red blade snaking out silently, giving no hum.
"Your secrets..." she whispered. "Will be ours. The Cult of The Brain Demon rises in the chaos sown by the other major powers, and we shall not fail to work our will as we did before."
Syd conjured a fireball. "You'll burn, as your sisters did before you, heretic
The blond witch charged and Syd did as well...