Private A New Set of Wings

[Darth Tennacus]

Current Location: Darth Senthral 's ship
Mentions: Darth Senthral
Destination: Unknown to Darth Tennacus
Journey Intent: Shopping

Wherever they were going, Lord Tennacus did not know. He had entrusted their discretion and safety to the knowledge of his Apprentice, in order to take them to a genuine trader or marketplace where they could purchase necessary materials and items - especially a new ship - without going through the means of official transactions. Darth Tennacus ensured that he did not want them purchasing anything which birthed a paper trail. And with all that they had hoarded back onto his craft, they certainly did not want to be scanned for any illegal equipment. Artifacts older than the Old Republic did not amount to genuine cargo, especially in the abundance in which they possessed it. The Sith had ordered they disable the tracker, jump out of hyperspace several times along the route, and power down completely in quiet systems.

Lord Santhrel had told his Master that they would be at their destination soon, so Tennacus sat with him within the cockpit, reading through one of the ancient Sith books they had required. It was in the ancient runic language of the Sith, but Tennacus had been taught to translate it. This particular book spoke of Sith magic, most notably the legendary Leviathan that had been pulled into the realm of myth. While it did not say how to command or even summon it, it guided them on how to discover such power through guidance and meditation, once other books or Holocrons containing its knowledge were required, however. One step at a time, though. For now it made good reading.

"I'd very much desire to master this power," Tennacus said, "But in good time." He turned to the next page, reading blindly into paragraphs halfway in. He liked to read that way sometimes, then piece it altogether. The Sith were known to never be precise in their methods, anyway. One could read a book from cover to cover, memorise every rune, close the book and verse it out loud, and they'd still be years away from their accomplishments.

"We should probably make a brief list of what we need." Tennacus was still with his eyes glued to the book, but he was able to multitask. "We need new material to form you a new suit. Not certain on the element you're in favour of, so I'll leave that to you." Of course, Tennacus was paying for everything. "New rifles, if we can muster that. Or the components to build our own one. I prefer long-range, but close range is more important in our way of life." Tennacus fell silent. "Oh, and we need droids. A protocol droid for my personal use, and some others used solely for war and expeditions. If they're not outdated, Sith Mark 1's would be perfect. Twelve of them if they have such an abundance. Don't need to be working; I'll fix them up myself." And he would. "We also need a protocol droid for your personal use, too. And then a ship. If we can get it all in one place - perfect. If not, just make sure we are not going into any Alliance-occupied territories or those of the Jedi. Not with what we have on board."​

 

[Darth Senthral]

​

“Sevarcos should have it all, a Spice Planet. That means credits flow like water, which is good for them considering the place is almost a desert. Well in the Southern Hemisphere where we’re headed anyway.” He had listened closely to his Master’s words. What they needed to get, what they needed to avoid. The Outer Rim was still a great place to stay out of sight. Planets like Sevarcos proved that. Lots of trade, plus he knew some people there. Some contacts he’d met a while back, they had all kinds of ships. That’s how he got his own, at the time he had been sparse for credits. Yet his Allanar N3 Light Freighter was a solid choice. Cheap and in need of repairs or not. Plus he was handy with tools, and ended up customizing the thing himself.

Speaking of Sevarcos, they neared the planet. There was no regulations on landing there, one simply came in and landed as one pleased. These lack of regulations were dangerous, but had made a lot of it’s craftier residents rich. Without all the rules trade got done faster and faster, and at the Traders free discretion. Darth Senthral knew one such trader who bathed in the credits of it all. Started buying all sorts of things, and began to lose grasp of their true price. He knew how to make a profit, but damn if he wasn’t easy to barter with. One of the downsides to becoming extremely rich. A one, Takul’, once a Sevari Tribal, now rich off it’s spices. He had all sorts of old ships and new as well, definitely had arms, and maybe had droids. Most surely had the parts though, hands down. The money to have them made as well. He had a Black Market going on Sevarcos.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

​

"Sevarcos," Tennacus repeated under his breath. It wasn't a system of planet he was familiar with; then again, he'd been asleep for some 1,800 years. He trusted his Apprentice's decision, and he packed his book away. His Apprentice had given him a small tablet with a variety of ship descriptions installed. Most of what Tennacus saw didn't appeal to him, but he looked, nonetheless, and eventually put that down alongside his book. Until they arrived at the location, he remained idle in his chair, falling in and out of sleep beneath his dark robes. At times, he did expect his Apprentice to smite him, as was only natural in their lineage. But he must have been wise to know he was not ready, or perhaps he was just a more genuine Apprentice than most and appreciated the companionship of another Sith he could associate with. Tennacus often peered beneath his closed eye, watching his Apprentice command the vessel. He was focused - talented. Dedicated.

Once they had touched down on the planet, Tennacus rose up from his chair and descended down the deployed ramp onto the planet's surface. He'd - and he expected his Apprentice to do the same - reduced his lack of association to the Force - to the Dark Side - in order for them to blend in with the planet's inhabitants. Upon first stepping out onto the sands, he had used the Force just to sense if any others sensitised to its power were remotely near, but he felt nothing other than Lord Senthral's presence. With that, he contently walked further along the grains, waiting until Senthral arrived alongside him.

"Lead the way, my Apprentice."

 

[Darth Senthral]

​

Coming up next to his Master, he felt no Dark Side as he had always, realizing the idea of it he hid his own connection. “And so I shall, my Master.” With that simply said, he led them to a nearby starport on the planet. With much discretion he led them through back alleys and the like upon entry. It was apparent this place was home to all types of people, but mostly only people. Human tribes, the Sevari Tribes specifically. Well actually this star-port was where the difference was. The Tribals always defected and came to live here, at least he imagined, but many others from around the Galaxy had homes here too. Aside from the Spice Worms it was a nice planet, if a Vice-Filled Planet. Perhaps that was what made it nice, in their own endeavors most definitely. Vice bred discretion, in an ofd sort of way.

That was when they met with someone who knew such discretion. Takul’, it was odd to turn backalleys and find yourself in a half nice establishment, seemed like a place to get a drink. Not deal with a Lord of Black Marketing. Alas there Takul’ was, manning his station as Bartender, and to those who really knew him. A Trader to remember. Also thankfully, one with horrible memory. The Tribal Man looked to the two Sith like he had never seem the younger in his life. Yet he had.

“Ahem. The Spice Worms aren’t getting any smaller.” Darth Senthral said to the man, as if making small talk. Clearly not though, as with motions to the other Tender, Takul’ disappeared into the back. The other Tender motioned the Sith to follow after. Quickly they found themselves behind the bar and heading down. The air made it clear they were heading undergeound, the way it’s freshness degraded, and it became somewhat harder to breathe. However, when they reached the bottom everything seemed to open up, light shed on them from all around, air became easier to breathe, and the walls weren’t just some variation of sand stone. Well they were probably, but it was nicer than any he’d ever seen. This was the Underground Black Markert, and well it was literally underground. In addition to being nicer than any actual marketplace he’d been in. Many people roamed the place, trading with people that weren’t Takul’, though the profit probably came back to the once humble spice trader in some percentage or other.

[GREEN]“I’ll bet you’ve come a long way, so has this establishment. If you can call it that, now then, what sort of trading are you up to today? My secrecy is assured if you need it. No paperwork, just credits exchanged and goods given. This outfit used to be smaller you know, now I have one on almost every starport on Sevarcos. Though folks don’t usually trade with me directly, I can tell your a client that seeks a trusted source. Where better than the true source. The one who started this deal around here, or the one who kicked it off at least.” Takul’ was charming, gave off a vibe that said he was a Master of Bartering. If he was? Then Darth Santhrel was the very Liege of it.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

​

As far as trust went with black market fugitives, you could only trust them as far as you could throw them. Then again, that was necessarily far for Sith of their calibre. In any case, Tennacus remained as mysterious as possible, maintaining a sense of silence as his eyes wandered over the vast distance of space buried beneath the surface. From what he could see, there were all sorts of pieces for grabs there: some he had never seen before, and some as old as he was, left to rot and rust. Once he had done his evaluation, he returned his gaze back to the trader.


Tennacus' arm waved towards Darth Senthral . "My accountant here has informed me that you are a person who can feed acquired tastes. We've come a long way, and with a long list, to see what you have to offer." Tennacus slipped his hand into his pocket, retrieving a two credit chips with a denomination of two million credits between them. He forced them into the merchant's hand, and his other arm waved alongside them. "Three million credits, here. You dropped the last chip over there, but you'll find it later." The Force stirred in the air. Lord Senthral must have sensed the deceit in his actions, but alas, the Sith Lord continued in handing the merchant his list.

"We come from an esteemed background, but my tastes for expensive and rare things is never satisfied. I believe the credits are substantial enough; you may keep what change remains in them. But specifically, we are looking for certain materials that my accountant here will announce upon my final word. On top of that, I require to see what droids you have available, if any. Mark 1's especially, even if they are not functioning. We are only going to mount them in the manor for decoration, anyway. But I do require a droid that will be able to provide surgery, as well as heed to my generic commands. We are also in need of several compatible weapon components capable of supporting two individual weapons. You can see the list there for references on the stock we need."

Tennacus let the merchant dwell on the list for a moment in silence. But then he interrupted, asking, "Oh, I saw that old thing outside that looked like a heap of junk." Tennacus waved his hand again. The ship's condition was perfect. "When we're done here, I'd like to take a look at it."

 

[Darth Senthral]

​

Darth Senthral looked on as if he had heard this a million times before. He hadn’t, but he was good at playing his role. A man was only as true to self as he told through clenched teeth. After-all it was surprisingly easy to lie through them. Especially if you said no words and simply had to smile and look pretty. He was pretty good at that, well to be fair that was just his own opinion, but blonde hair and blue eyes got you far with others. Always did they assume nobility, or some relation to it, especially if you gave them no reason not to think such. It was easy to hold back a crass nature considering he never had one. Eyes wandered to Takul’

Greed was strong in Takul’, common sense, abysmal. Street Smarts were good and all but damned if they ever worked on posh types. Assuming that was what he was dealing with. Though the credits he obtained spoke in numbers, big ones, the kind he adored. “Well well, I’ll get that all settled for you then, a few orders to a few men and it should all be in order. Assuming that piece of junk outside suits your tastes you can get it at a low price. It’s of no use to me, seems older but the technology is still above me.” He said with a simple shrug, if he could lose something rather useless for practically any amount of credits he’d go to sleep happy. Orders sounded off, men turned up, more orders that were more discreet. They went off to gather all kinds of things. All that his two customers needed. “Shall we go take a look at the ship?” The credits lost seemed to have slipped his mind in all that he was doing.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

​

Tennacus didn't waste a second before returning to the surface to see the ship at the merchant's suggestion. Perhaps it was the Force meddling with hits thoughts, but something about it just allured him, wanting to see it more thoroughly. In comparison to the dull, wasteful climate of the planet, it stuck out like a shimmering diamond in the sand, which made him realise his manipulation through the Force needed to be reconfigured to the merchant's perception. "It looks big," he started, complimenting, but not complimenting it. "I suppose the problems with it are that your expenses don't reach its necessities." Another manipulative speech, but in all truth it looked to be the most expensive product he had seen among all the rubble and metal.

Upon asking for further inspection, the merchant led Tennacus and Darth Senthral into the ship, where the two Sith were able to bask upon its interior beauty. The merchant enlightened them throughout the inspection, claiming the ship was an X-70B Phantom Prototype. Its interior had the required space for temporal accommodation, as well as the the space to provide them the ability to design an on-board technological facility, where they could carry out their experiments and studies throughout deep space exploration. It already came equipped with a medical bay, conference room and generous portion of cargo space, on top of a laboratory and places for residency. It took them over an hour to inspect the entire ship, with Tennacus already noting down adjustments with his apprentice that they could make to it in the future. Without a doubt, Tennacus was deeply interested in purchasing it, given its sophisticated exterior coating which made it virtually impenetrable to enemy radars and scanning. Given what they would hoard on board, they would certainly need something with such discretion.

After some private consultation with his Apprentice, Tennacus agreed to take on the ship, including a generous purchasing of silver and black paint he would personally apply to its exterior coating later.


Another hour had passed, and Tennacus and Senthral were waiting in the bar upstairs whilst the merchant had their merchandise hauled onto the new craft. There were still a couple of things which needed to be finalised, so the two Sith would have to wait until they were finished. Before concluding the transaction, the merchant approached the two Sith and asked them if there was anything else they might have been looking for. Tennacus looked through the list provided, seeing that the requested Mark 1 pieces for twelve droids were ticked, alongside two tonnes of Durasteel and Ultrachrome, six surgical droids, and five recon droids, all of which were dysfunctional. Spoils from the wars, he had been told, but the Sith didn't question his methods of obtaining them. He'd shown an option of protocol droids, but Tennacus didn't seem interested in any of them, but offered Senthral if he was interested in any. Tennacus checked the list further, ensuring the weapon parts were included as well, before finally concluding the transaction with a handshake. The merchant asked for ten more minutes before everything was ready, and he was about to walk away when he suddenly stopped. He turned back around, believing he might snag one last handful of credits from them, but to Tennacus' surprise, he sought out his Apprentice, offering to trade his ship. According to what he had to say, he had three. . . concerning ships that he needed gone, and asked that there would be no questions. He claimed that they were in good shape, and ready to fly on the hour, and had invited Senthral to see if he was interested in one of them. There were still an abundance of credits left over that would make up the difference in price, so Tennacus waved his hand in approval, if Senthral was indeed interested. If not, they would simply be on their way.

 

[Darth Senthral]

​

Darth Senthral went ahead with the merchant and checked out the three ships. He completely disregarded the two and his eyes wandered to a third. This man had relics he did not even understand the importance of. “Ahem that’s a Supremacy Class Starfighter. A Mark VI. It’s old to say the least, but it seems it held up so no wonder you seek to rid yourself of it. I’ll take it. Though the size difference is off, and my own ship is a newer model. Could you manage a straight trade? No extra credits on either side?” Throwing cool questioning Takul’s way would keep things natural. Arrise no suspicion, suspicion of him actually being quite fond of the ship he looked upon. “Except of course, ship clamps?”

The merchant accepted the offer and Darth Senthral and his Master, Darth Tennacus moved the artifacts from ship to ship discreetly. Away from prying eyes, one’s that wouldn’t recognize what they saw didn’t matter. Discretion was one with himself now. When it was all said and done he led his Master to the ship he’d traded in for. The Merchant, Takul’, now back in the bar serving patrons.

“It’s a Mark VI Supremacy Class Starfighter Master. I can use this to board our Brother’s and Sister’s larger ships. Not to mention engage in battles more easily. It might even fit in your own Phantom’s Cargo Bay. I’ve the ship clamps if you wish to test it out. If not it’s sufficient fuel for hyperspace to follow along. I know we might have different plans for the cargo bay. Also I’d like to mention I can likely install cloaking on it fairly easily. Due to it’s size. It’s a downsize, but I think I’ll find it’s upsides worth the trade.”

 

[Darth Tennacus]

​

"I've never seen a ship such as that." Tennacus moved his drink across the counter. He was spilling it, a couple of drops at a time, on the ground between his feet. Never trusted those sorts of places. Probably brewed their gear in the gout of a Sarlaac for that extra kick. He only ordered it to blend in. "Its a beautiful looking vessel, just make sure you don't lose it to the 'Alliance or Imperials. But that cloak you were mentioning will do well. We'll fix them up back at Seculus-B. The clamps should fit it on just fine." Tennacus tipped the last of his drink over his shoulder and stood up. After a silent gesture towards the barkeep, Tennacus gestured for Darth Senthral to take his leave behind him.

The Sith Lord left his Apprentice to clamp his ship against the phantom. It was safer - quieter - to fly in one vessel rather than tail. Once the ship had been clamped, Tennacus took himself to the cockpit and got comfortable, waiting for his Apprentice to seat himself. Needless to say, the Phantom was certainly. . . luxurious. An acquired taste most satisfied, he thought. His fingers grazed over the dashboard, the buttons, the sticks, taking a feel of everything. Getting used to it. Something about it just felt. . . right. It would serve them both well in the time to come.

Tennacus initiated the flight sequences.

The Phantom's engine hummed to life perfectly. Nothing displaying on the hazard readings, and all automated pre-flight checks received positive signals. With that, the Phantom slowly lifted from the planet's surface, ascending into the upper atmosphere whilst Tenncus installed the hyperdrive coordinates and calculated a safe jump route. It took them until they fully left the atmosphere, and the ship ran beautifully, not threating a shed. A positive chirp on the monitor confirmed the calculated route as suggested, confirming whether to propel into Hyperspace. Tennacus ensured the tracker was not showing up on the installation units. With that assured, the Phantom went to full throttle, propelling the two Sith into Hyperspace on course to the Outer Rim Territories.

With that, Tennacus unfastened his seatbelt. "Right," he started. "I suppose we might as well take a look at what we have on board. We haven't got a smelter to melt down any materials here, but we can have a look at the medical bay and conference room. Probably need to think of a name for our vessels, too. Any ideas on yours?"

 

[Darth Senthral]

​

“Messenger. Maybe. It would imply delivering words I suppose, and diplomacy among our Sith brethren may be necessary at some point. If you would even call it that, diplomacy that is. Though it could have a hidden meaning, words are guarded by caution. A messenger of death just as much as one of words. There’s a lot of ways it could fir the small ship, but I’m not too sure yet.”

Whatever he named it, he felt he’d have it for a while. So he wanted to name it well, something he wouldn’t wear out saying. Messenger was simple, a ship’s name for sure, whether it was suited to his or not was up for debate. A small decision one would suppose, but one to think on anyway. Names carried meaning with them. Like his Master’s and his Own. Messenger wouldn’t strike fear into other’s, but it would when they were blasted down. He had to touch up on his piloting before he could consider getting in heated battles though.

Eyes wandered about the ship’s insides. “A fine ship by the way Master, a good catch for sure. I’ve a feeling it will suit you well, and what suits you well often suits me well.” Simple words, spoken because he felt that way. Not meant as flattering complimentary. That didn’t go very far among Sith, and he wasn’t the type to gas someone up that way. Not his style.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

​

"One thing you will remember, my Apprentice, is that you will stand by what feels right for you." The meant went deeper than Tennacus was willing to explain. He reflected on his past, thinking of the time when such righteousness moved through him almost instinctively. How the Force had moved through him to kill his Master, feeding just a tinge of the hate he burrowed deep inside of his thoughts. It felt right to do an act he wasn't even considering, and he harboured no regrets.

The Sith shuffled forward in his chair to check the monitor. Indeed, the ship was something of a beauty, and Tennacus almost curled his lips at the words which left his Apprentice's tongue. Yes, it would benefit him, too, wouldn't it? One day, when he might be ready, it would be him piloting this vehicle through the stars, savouring every historic moment it had been through that delivered him to the pilot's seat. But until such a day, they would have to give it a history to remember.

"I take back our earlier intentions," Tennacus said. "We may as well get some rest and check the cargo when we arrive. That'll conclude our business until we reach Seculus-B. Once we arrive, unload our hoard and acquire a certain sense of rest, we will begin training in matters far more thorough and beneficial to our futures."