Against a Dark Background

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

“Stop playing around,” Jacen demanded, leaning over the table. “All I want to know, is where you got the artefact. I just want a name or a location.”

“You. Get. Nothing. Get my lawyer Jedi,” spat the hunched over man on the other side of the table.

Jacen sighed. The epicanthix smuggler was nigh on immune to any attempt to break through his mental defences. Every attempt to get an answer out of him had gone nowhere. Jak Kaut was his name, they’d at least found that. They had the name of the ship they’d impounded to as he tried to slip through Galactic Alliance space.

“You don’t understand,” Jacen explained. “This thing,” he said, waving to the chunk of masonry inscribed with strange runes, “is incredibly dangerous. This could genuinely hurt a lot of people. Please, just work with me.”

Jak leant back in his seat, crossing his bare arms over his chest. Jacen had seen no need for the cuffs and the smuggler had thrown his heavy leather coat over the back of the chair. There was a smug glint in his eye. “Nothing,” he repeated, lifting his chin to look down his nose at the Marshal as he spoke.

“Fine, we’ll get an expert in, see if they can trace the origin. Then we’ll have another little talk.” Jacen said. His chair screeched as he pushed it back and metal scraped against metal. He didn’t dare touch the inscription that appeared to have been pulled from a wall. Instead he telekinetically lifted it into its container and carried it out. It had an insidious air that played at the back of his mind at all times when he looked at it. It stank of the dark side. Leaving Jak to stew for a while he stepped into the adjoining room. If his expert could shed some light on the situation he might be able to provoke a reaction from the stoney-lipped smuggler. Just a crack in the stoic visage and Jacen might be able to get inside that head and trace the distribution of Sith artefacts that had been on the rise.

 

[Blackthorne]

Brom Burnside sat in a waiting room down the hall pawing sleeplessness from his eyes and holding a cup of caffe. 3am was still considered early no matter who you were, and that was when the call had come through from the Hounds of the Galactic Alliance. Found a smuggler, they had. Confiscated a relic. A Darkside relic. He supposed it was only a matter of time before someone remembered the calling card he'd left behind with the Masters of NJO.

He hadn't come to join their Order. Wasn't even sure the Alliance was where he wanted to be, but it was the right place, right time. Something of a stowed-away safe haven for people like him. Somewhere he could feel a bit more comfortable leaving his Apprentice without the need to worry. These were good people, if not a bit reminiscent of their lamentable fore-bearer, the Republic.

Not much time to think on it - the door to the room opened revealing the face of [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] who looked more than a bit perturbed. Brom took a deep breath and got to his feet, offering his free hand to shake, "Master Voidstalker, I presume. What am I looking at today?"

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Darth_Gravid's_fortress
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Smoke_Demon

“Ah, Master Burnside, a pleasure,” Jacen said, shaking his hand. “And Jacen is fine if you’re prefer,” he added. He was equally comfortable with both formal or informal address, so often let the other party decide.

“Word on the grapevine is you’ve got a good understanding of Force artefacts. Now, two rooms down I have a smuggler we picked up carrying something… unpleasant. Reeks of the Darkside,” Jacen said. To accentuate his point he opened the container. The moment it was breached its presence was immediately felt. The hairs on the back of Jacen’s neck stood on end.

“I can’t get anything out of him, he’s closed himself off pretty well. I was hoping you could shed some light on its origins. I think if I can prompt his thoughts I can probably follow the thread and get some more out of him. I don’t know,” Jacen said earnestly with a shrug. “This isn’t my area of expertise, but a possible point of origin or what it’s part of could help me start to unravel this. There’s been a number of these being ferried about and we need to get it out at source.”

 

[Blackthorne]

There came no flinch from Burnside as the item was revealed, but his gaze did slowly harden. With a dropped brow and thinning lips the man stepped forward to take the proffered container for a closer look. Ruddy eyes fell upon the slab with deep interest that slowly changed to growing recognition.

"This piece..." words grumbled under his breath, muddled by the clench of his jaw. He glanced back towards the doorway through which Jacen appeared, a keening glance.

"There are others like it...I've seen one before in another's collection. I've even got a rubbing from it in my files."

Brom moved back to his previous chair and set the container down on the coffee table, moving to pull a traveler's pack from his side from which he produced a bar of graphite and a fold of paper after searching around through various pockets for several minutes. Rough hands smoothed the parchment across the surface of the slab, careful not to make skin contact, "It's a fragment from a larger seal containing the inscription of a Sith Spell, though I've only seen a portion of it up until now-" setting the graphit on its side the man began the process of creating a rubbing, gaze growing intense, "always had a thought of what it might be but never had enough of the inscription to really tell..."

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]


For later reference...
http://wiki.swtor-rp.com/images/thumb/7/70/Temple-Ruins.jpg/800px-Temple-Ruins.jpg
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Darth_Gravid's_fortress
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Darth_Gravid
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Smoke_Demon
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Jaguada

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

The veteran found himself distinctly interested in the movements of the subject matter expert. His hands moved in a careful, deliberate manner as he sorted through his things and carefully started to take a rubbing. Brom had an honest face; Jacen liked him already.

"I despise it," Jacen said quietly. "Just a little chunk of rock, but it stinks of the dark side. I've never really taken too much of an interest in artefacts and imbuement and the like. Having this out of the box is almost like feeling an echo of whatever dreadful creature carved it."

Reaching into his jacket pocket Jacen pulled out a palm-sized datapad. "We've picked up a few more of nasties over the last few months," he said. Placing the device down he swiped the screen between pictures. "Don't recall any more like this but you're welcome to take a look. All the other smugglers were oblivious, but this one..." Jacen said as he turned towards the door. "...he's hiding a secret. I can sense it. He's buried it down deep, but that means he really doesn't want us to find out. Probably terrified of whoever he's carrying for would be displeased."

 

[Blackthorne]

"It wants you to despise it," Brom replied quietly, his own face frozen in a scowl of contemplation while he worked, "all those darkside pieces thrive on your negative energy just like they did from their makers."

"Sith artifacts are unique in that way," said Brom as he worked his way down the length of the slab, slowly rubbing the graphite across the parchment to color in the relief of etchings beneath, "their designers always leave a mark, a bit of their essence. Sometimes it's intentional other times it's merely a side-effect of the crafting. But the Masters, the really heinous ones...they want you to know what's theirs."

He glanced the datapad, pausing a moment to watch the display of various items of infamy. Some he recognized and others he didn't. The galaxy was a big place and there were a lot of Darkside crafters out there, both living and historical. Their detritus littered every corner of the stars.

"Sounds like you have an artifact dealer on your hands and either they're not very good at selecting smugglers or they want you to find these things. Most of them are too careful to get caught this many times. Hm. Having another piece of this slab would be useful, but maybe I've enough here to decipher just what we're looking at." Finished, Brom lifted the parchment from the slab and closed the box with a deft hand movement, sealing in those despicable waves of evil. He produced his own holopad with a eyelet attachment that scanned over the parchment in rays of laser red.

"This was the other piece I was brought to view by a private collector about twelve years ago," a picture on his own pad revealed another slab nearly identical in appearance but a mirrored version, "if I'm correct, they're both bottom halves to the full piece. They have carved, formed corners and it looks like this portion of the side fit together." His hypothesis was correct. As the scan of the rubbing loaded he placed the files alongside one another where the edge and three cohesive lines of Ancient Sith lined up.

Brom stared at it in silence, brows raised, "I'll be damned."

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

Jacen pondered that for a moment. An interesting way for the thing to evoke a negative emotion. Perhaps he'd always just assumed Sith artefacts would try to inspire fear? Clearly that was taking a simplistic view on things, but Jacen already knew he was wont to do that. What Brom said next did not surprise Jacen in the least. Leaving a declaration on any great work was exactly what he expected a Sith to do.

"We've been stepping up patrols significantly. This bit of space had no coherent method for dealing with pirates or smugglers for a few years. Amazing how quickly the rot sets in. We pulled some pretty nasty dark side cults up at the root. Got a lot of nasties kept locked up deep under the Sullust crust."

The Hound leaned over to look at the complete inscription, not that he fathom it. "What is it?" he asked.

 

[Blackthorne]

"Dwomutsiqsa."

Brom read the lines of Ancient Sith hieroglyphs again and again, a mixture of intense interest and disbelief taking his expression. Twelve years. Twelve years (in Azkaban!) since he'd seen chip or dust of this damnable slab. After all this time he'd expected it to be something short of the Taurannik Codex or something equally as legendary.

But no.

"It's a spell tablet explaining the ritual to summon Siqsa..." he glanced up, noting the expression on Jacen's face and went on with: "Smoke Demons. Nasty things, but the knowledge to make them disappeared thousands of years ago. Era of Luke Skywalker was the last time anyone recorded running into one." Not that most people survived an encounter with the arcane spirits to tell the tale.

"This is...very valuable and dangerous in the wrong hands. Does anyone else know about this slab piece but you and I?"

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

Jacen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It will have been seen by the customs officials who searched the ship, probably a handful of marines. It will have been catalogued on the border control systems before we had it redacted because of its nature. A handful of Jedi on the temple who typically deal with darkside artefacts…”

He looked to the ceiling for a moment, eyes darting about as he clearly tried to think through an issue. The smuggler might not have an idea on the purpose of the tablet, but it might shock him enough for a crack to show.

“Do you have any thoughts on where it may have come from?” he asked, turning back to Brom. “I have a notion to have this thing destroyed rather than kept. Do you really want to keep that spell on your datapad?”

 

[Blackthorne]

"This translation is incomplete without the remaining slab," said Brom, "in it's current state it poses no threat and will raise no siqsa. So long as we can narrow down those exposed to its inscription to the few who might be able to decipher the symbols, I think we can keep its knowledge contained. As far as origins...I'll need some time to look through my files, do a bit of research. Twelve years was a long time ago and I'm not cursed with an eidetic memory."

Brow set, the man rubbed at the stubble on his chin and began tapping through his database link-up, "Think you have enough to go on to take another crack at him?"

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

Jacen nodded his head slowly. “Well we were working under the theory that he knew lot more about what he was carrying. Guess it's time to test that theory, but I'll need to make a call first. Would you mind hanging around or leaving me some contact details? Might be I need a bit more input to validate his story.”



Jacen stepped back into the room, a thin smile on his face. He laid a datapad down carefully on the table and twisted it towards Jak. “Good news! We're letting you go.”

The Epicanthix’s expression turned quizzical as he looked at the tablet. “What's this?” he asked.

“Well, we decided to leave a nice sum in your back account before turning you lose. And we're keeping the artefacts of course. So…a pleasure doing business,” Jacen replied. Yet he did not wave the smuggler out, instead he took his seat.

“Very cute, but no one is going to fall for that.”

“A Sith looking to summon smoke daemons and you don't think that's the kind of person who discard you without a single qualm.”

For the first time the smuggler's face blanched. Those outer walls cracked and Jacen got a look inside. It was mostly imagery and emotion, but it was enough.

“So you actually got to see the Temple where they're digging these up?” Jacen asked.




“Jaguada,” Jacen stated flatly once he found Brom again. “They've digging these out of a temple on Jaguada.”

 

[Blackthorne]

Brom hadn't moved. If anything he'd sunk further into his chosen seat, melting into a mixture of contemplative brooding. Tension knit his brow with drawn lines as he listened to the footsteps of [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] returning down the hall, furrowing ever so slightly at the decisive words that came next.

"I was afraid of that."

Jaguada. Hadn't been the first place on his list of possibilities, but it had been there. Wasn't a planet he was extensively familiar with and the history of it was patchy at best.

"When do we leave?"

No question of if at this point. These smugglers already had a locale, it was only a matter of time before another piece of that slab found its way into the hyperlanes of the galaxy and into the hands of who-knew. Best that they beat them to the chase, so to speak. Find the remaining slab and, the man frowned deeply, destroy it.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

Jacen had his rifle down from the rack for a moment. He pulled the underslung grenade launcher free for a moment to check the action was acceptable. The CC13 could get pretty stiff if the new recruits treated them badly.

He walked around the back of the shuttle freely. The inertial dampeners had been dialled up to the maximum intensity. Right now they could get rammed by an asteroid and if the shields stayed intact he'd barely feel an echo of the impulse. It made him wonder why so many pilots valued the feel of tuning the dampeners down. Did they really need that feedback so desperately they had to throw their passengers around pulling stunts?

He checked his bags contents again, ensuring he had a set of civilian clothing, local currency and macrobinoculars. They were currently cruising in on low power for the far reaches of the system. It was come in nice and quietly - not giving the game away with a nearby burst of cronau radiation - or drop right on top of the planet from hyperspace, make a lot of noise but him them hard and fast.

They'd gone for the cautious option. Voidstalker had a full set of camouflage on. The notion being to approach the temple from a distance to see if the excavation was still going. If it was, they'd soon bring a stop to it.

"Fifteen minutes!" the droid pilot called.

"You good to go?" Jacen asked Brom.

 

[Blackthorne]

Sitting somewhere on a bench in the back cabin watching the Jedi Marshall pace with a calm, impassive stare, Brom had moved very little during the ride. Might've been meditating or simply collecting his wits. Or perhaps he was simply not used to the luxury of traveling and working with a large galactic entity such as the Alliance.

When asked if he was ready the man gave Jacen a look from head to foot and offered a simple smile. Brom had only what he'd brought with him: unorthodox Jedi robes that looked more like traveler's garb considering the amount of wear and use they'd seen. A lightsaber hidden beneath the layers alongside a dagger and a worn, tattered messenger bag that held the contents of his life, as it were. Around his neck beneath the collar of his shirt hung a brass chain from which an old locket hung suspended. He knew the image of his late wife and lost boys inside it almost as well as he knew his own reflection. The only thing he hadn't brought with him was his Apprentice.

"I feel underdressed," he admitted before rising to a stand, "but I'm as ready as I'll ever be," the man grabbed hold of a nearby wall-mounted handle as the ship shuddered through atmo, studying Jacen's garb through faintly narrowed eyes. The rifle was a point of particular interest.

"Have you been a military man your entire life?" Brom asked. If he had to guess Jacen was a soldier long before he was a Jedi, but for all he knew the Alliance's Order was an entirely new breed of Jedi he'd never even considered possible.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

The corner of Jacen's mouth twitched upwards in a wry smile. Once a point of contention, he now accepted the past for what it was. "Well most my entire life since getting hauled out of the academy as a Padawan. Teenage me was not a very good Jedi," he admitted. "Then ten years of armoured infantry, then back into the Jedi Order on Ossus. Joined the Alliance when the Republic started to crumble under its own infighting. Felt good to bring order to that corner of the Galaxy. To genuinely make a stand."

"I'd happily leave the rifle, but..." Jacen's eyes drifted out of focus for a few moments, "I really get the feeling this isn't going to be an easy ride. I'd rather get eyes on the Temple from a distance and look at what we're dealing with. The Primeval used to campaign through these sectors, so I don't much fancy approaching the locals as a Jedi and asking questions."

There was no movement, but there was a load roar for a few moments as the LAAT first careened through the atmosphere. "So, if it's your worst fear, what are we going to do exactly?" he asked, his eyes on a contained clearly marked for the baridium charges it contained.

 

[Blackthorne]

"You've aged well, then," Brom said with a quiet smile, lifting a hand to rub at the stubble on his chin, "you'll forgive me if I'm not up to Militial snuff. I am but a simple Jedi, born and raised." The man tipped his head forward in a play bow, stance teetering slightly as the ship shuddered through atmo.

The roar of their descent shook him to the bones and he remembered suddenly why he preferred being in the bridge rather than the cargo hold. Something about the lack of controls made his fingers itch.

"Worst fear? Hardly. But I'd put Smoke Demons high on the list of things I'd rather not have a run-in with. Not quite as high as fanatical religious zealots, though. I could probably talk some sense into a Smoke Demon, zealots on the other hand..." the man chuckled, "I'll let you handle them?"

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

"It's the moisturising routine," Jacen added, without missing a beat. "And that's a fair deal, just as long as you promise to tell me what I really, really, shouldn't touch when he get inside the Temple," Jacen replied. His voice was calm now, almost a new monotonous quality. It was simply a side effect of the mental routine he was running through. The mental preparations allowed him to put his emotions aside when it came to crunch time, but also afforded him a depth of connection to the Force he otherwise could not achieve. It was the polar opposite of the approach taken by the Sith, pouring their emotions into the Force and using raw power rather than control.

The LAAT came to a halt and the doors slid open. Jacen hopped down and immediately shouldered his rifle. Without conscious effort he scanned their surroundings whilst stretching out with the Force. They were in rocky terrain, visibility poor between all the outcrops and jagged formations.

"Well then, just a short walk west and we can get eyes on the place. We're in the right place, I can sense it from here," Jacen said as he started to walk. The LAAT lifted off and accelerated away. It was going to nestle in a nearby ravine unless called for. It likely had enough firepower to level the temple if absolutely necessary. "So...talk sense into it?" he asked.

 

[Blackthorne]

"I suspect it will be a learning experience for us both...but I'll do my best."

This was not a planet of tangent familiarity. Educational, perhaps, and every note marked in the Jedi's mind was something of dubious concern. This was the sort of mission he'd more like to carry out alone in order to cut out the potential for cross-corruption. It took someone of a particular skillset to deal with the arcane and mystical, Brom wasn't sure if Jacen would be quite up to snuff.

That at least made them equals somehow.

He followed on the heels of the Marshall without another word, being careful to watch his step. Brom paused to get his barings, pulling an item from his shoulderbag that gleamed dully in overcast daylight. A Korriban Compass - rare across the spread of the galaxy, but inherently useful in his line of work. He'd come into ownership of one through a series of somewhat recent events and this was only the second time he'd had it out for fieldwork. Brom held it face up in his palm and waited a beat for the four needles beneath the alchemized glasteel cover to orient.

One to point due natural north, holding Jacen's sense of direction to be good.

One to point due west, the general location of the cave. Also good.

A third to float, leaving him to believe that aside from the slab, there was little else here of concern. Good.

The fourth to wander aimlessly as it always had since he came into possession of it. A curious annoyance.

Still? Brom grunted and headed after Jacen, "Oh yes. Smoke Demons are created on the basis of darkside spirits. There are ancient texts and codexes that reveal some manner of control over them, given the right passage of words. All else fails a lightsaber aught to do the trick."

He moved with an acute awareness of his footfalls and the noise he made, which was to say not much at all. Even the man's gruff voice was hushed as they moved through the crags and along the ridge. On the horizon between two rises of jagged stone a trail of smoke cut across the skyline, rising from the valley below.

"Campsite up ahead, did your pilot see any other ships in the area coming in?"

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Brom Burnside"]

"No," Jacen replied wearily. "Which means to say that if there are people here, they've probably been here a while. Leaves is the distinct possibility that we need to come back with more men. Well, that or we're too late and everything truly dangerous has already been moved on." That was a sobering thought. All those leads passing through Alliance space. He knew of one person who now had the funds and the means to bring in such artefacts. Qorbin Fal, now sponsored by the First Order, had already put dangerous artefacts steeped in the darkside to use against the Alliance.

As they reached a ridge Jacen get a gentle wave for quiet, but his subject matter expert had already fallen to silence. Dropping onto his belly, Jacen placed his rifle on the ground and crawled the last few metres. He brought up his macro-binoculars for a good look. There was little motion in the camp below. It took him a moment to pick out a few armed and posted guards. Two humans emerged from the collection of tents which gently swayed in the breeze and started walking for the temple together.

It wasn't a typical short and squat ziggurat. This thing was clearly made to be defended. The broken husks of emplacement weapons lay dormant on the walls. Part of the highest walls had obviously crumbled and someone had raised scaffolding against the most damaged section on this side.

"Should we go and have a little chat?" he asked.