But I know just what you runnin' from...

[Jairus Starvald]

Coruscant​

Sith Temple​

[member="Darth Mierin"]​

You would think that by now I was used to speedbumps, nothing ever seemed to go easy and on the level these days. Things went haywire, opposition was cast or a combination of such factors, which all resulted in the same darn thing. Delay, the endless bane of my existence, the delay of plans, concepts and projects. You might ask yourself what has happened on this fateful day, what kind of speedbump was I raving on about.

As you might know I have been busy with a design for my new flagship, it was going to be a… doozy. The people at Sienar Fleet really knew what they were doing, and yet something had gone wrong. Otherwise I wouldn’t be whining right about now.

Well, let’s get out with it right now then. Someone had stolen part of the schematics, a pretty standard practice in plot devices really, but you can’t judge a writer for using the classics now can you? I wasn’t sure who the thief was, didn’t know how they found the audacity to force themselves into my office in the heart of the Valley of the Dark Lords and take my stuff.

It was annoying to say the least.

But at least he had a faint sense on where to go, psychometry was useful in this regard. It had taken me only a few swipes of the hand to realize the intruder came from the Coruscanti Underworld, mostly because I had been born there, born and raised.

Things like that weren’t easily forgotten, and so now… I waited.

Waited for a new companion to arrive, so we could investigate together. Darth Mierin, one of the hands of the Dark Lord, should be a girl worth trusting. Yeah, I don’t believe that either, but Mei was still gone on her mission and this had to be dealt with quickly. Before the schematics would disappear on some kind of black market.

 

[J3C0]

Mierin walked ponderously slowly through the halls of the Sith Temple.

It was one of the structures that had not been damaged in the Protectorate invasion, unlike the Imperial Palace, it remained standing. She wondered for a moment why they had targeted the Palace instead of the Temple. Yes the Palace was the home of the One Sith, but it had been mostly cleared for the invasion of Alderaan, and the subsequent assault on Coruscant. Only a fraction of the Sith normally present had actually been in the Palace upon its destruction.

The Protectorate had achieved nothing in destroying the Imperial Palace, nothing save for killing a few hundreds Jedi Prisoners, and a few thousand office workers who had been employed by the One Sith. It had been a futile effort that had ended in the death of countless individuals, most of whom had not been Sith.

An interesting thing really. Sure it had hampered them, it had robbed them of a true base of operations of Coruscant. Yet such things were hardly significant. They would rebuild eventually, they would re-create and re-forge something greater than the palace ever was. That was simple fact The Protectorate must have known this, they must have foreseen the Sith would simply pick up the pieces and move elsewhere.

For the life of her she could not understand the decision.

Shaking her head Mierin approached Darth Carach, a man that she did not know and didn't care much about. She regarded him with an impassive state, one that was familiar to anyone that had ever spoken to Mierin.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Darth Mierin"]

Neither did I know why the Protectorate had decided to pick such a peculiar target, then again maybe we were slightly biased in our perspective of the battle. It wasn’t like the nation had actually known any of the things that we knew now, they hadn’t known that the Jedi prisoners were being kept there, they hadn’t known that most personnel had already been evacuated, and they hadn’t known that the Sith Temple was were it literally was at.

They should have known though, that was the entire point. You don’t jump into a battlefield without knowing your enemy, knowing yourself and knowing the lay of the metaphorical land. It was a very crude way of wishing to be defeated thoroughly and soundly, in a way the Protectorate should be happy. They had gotten exactly what they had wished for.

It was pretty ironic, all things aside. The Protectorate and different nations had been sure to condemn the Confederation for the fall of the Druckenwell Shipyards, but crashing a capital ship into the Imperial Palace; causing innocent casualties… that hadn’t been a problem. Then again, the orbital shipyards had been a magnitude several levels higher, yet… I couldn’t help but note the subtle form of hypocrisy at play.

Not that it was relevant to the discussion at hand though, Mierin entered the room and I left the chair I was sitting on. Giving her a shallow bow. ‘Lady Mierin, welcome. I am pleased you could meet me today.’

I waved my hand, and behind me the holoscreen started working again.

‘I won’t bore you with trivial introductions and the sort. Schematics have been stolen from the Temple, I have a notion on where they are and if I am right there will be… other things of consequence there. An… acquaintance of yours will join us halfway to the Coruscanti Underworld, where he will aid us in reacquiring Sith Property. Questions?’

[member="Smeg"]

 

[J3C0]

Mierin raised an eyebrow.

“You allowed schematics to be stolen from the Temple?” There was a harshness to her tone, a bite that told she was displeased. “By what. By whom?”

What kind of an idiot allowed someone to breach the temple, much less keep schematics for anything in the temple. It was a temple for crying out loud. Her impassive face had turned into a scowl, it was easy to tell she was displeased. The One Sith were secretive in nature, the Dark Blade, the Undying Project, even the Wyyrloks, had all been built in secret, and had been kept secret. Now apparently that streak had been broken.

“Were you an apprentice I would have you killed.” Oh yes, she was very displeased. She didn't like the thought of schematics getting out, even if she didn't know what the schematics were for. Any project the One Sith were working on was dangerous, dangerous to the galaxy, and especially dangerous to them if it was turned again them.

She was tiring of idiot voices and their failures.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

‘Don’t play the blame game with me, woman. I just got here and am dealing with the failure of those who came before me. Every moment we sit here and talk is a moment those mongrels are able to sell off valuable intel , you want to be the one to tell the Dark Lord we were having a tea party instead of fixing the problem?’

While the Lady had her moment to ponder it, I attached the two lightsabres from my table to my belt and put on a coat. Chances are it would be rainy today. Wasn't even sure how I had missed the Rat population in the Underworld, I had lived in the upper levels of the Underworld... yet I never had heard stories about them. Zombies, zombified Dogs, spider queens and all that crap, but sentient Rats? Curious, I wondered if the Vong had anything to do with their appearance.

Anyway, Mierin was right about one thing. The Temple had to be secured, at least secured in a better fashion than it had been now. With the Protectorate Invasion focus had been given to other directions, this would have to be changed.

 

[J3C0]

“Since you have taken on these tasks, the failures of those who have come before you are your failures.” With that Mierin turned about and walked towards the door. “I will send one of my Royal Guard to accompany you.”

Clearly, the Hand of the Dark Lord had other things than scurrying around in the Underworld of Coruscant to do today. If Carach couldn't recover the plans on his own, with a guide and one of her Royal Guardsmen to accompany him, well then he was hardly worth his position was he? She hadn't the time to complete the task herself, recovering some schematics was hardly difficult and she doubted it would require two Masters of the Force to do so.

Annoyance fluttered through here. There was so much to do.

Waltzing out of the room, Mierin absconded back to 500 Republica.

 

[Cedric Dorn]

It didn't take long for Mierins replacement to find his way down to the Sith Temple, he had been waiting on the shuttle outside after all. The man known as Lieutenant Kir stalked into the room, his red robes fluttering slightly over his ceremonial armor, stilling as he came to a halt before Darth Carach. On principal, the Red Guard did not strictly follow the One Sith, instead thye were trained to be loyal to two individuals, Darth Mierin, and the Dark Lord. Though they obeyed other Sith Lords and Voices, they were more...autonomous than most other military units.

On this particular occasion however, Kir was more than ready to follow Carach. “My Lord.”

His voice was gruff and stout, the distinct accent of a Chiss hiding behind his galactic basic. His black visor stared into Carach's eyes, giving away nothing. The Imperial Guardsmen simply stared, waiting for something to do.

Mierin had been rather brief with telling him what it was he was actually supposed to be doing, but he had already guessed that it had been something she herself did not want to do. That didn't surprise him much, the Red Guard often ended up running errands for the Powerful Sith Lord, though usually these errands proved far more dangerous that simply fetching a cup of caf.

Part of him was thankful for that, kept the boredom away.

 

[Smeg]

Oh, what it was to be King!

A new exciting piece of salvage had been brought to His Royal Filthness, and it was only half broken. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and squirrels, may I present to you. A faulty repulsorlift cart that was once used to haul heavy cargo from ship to ship. Of course, the faulty aspect of it was a slight problem given that the engines gave out once in a while, sending it crashing to the floor.

Usually gets fixed with swift kick mind you, Skraal were nowhere near smart enough to fix machines.

A couple of lackies pushed the cart as Smeg, King of Filth lay atop of it like it was his own personal throne. Today they were taking a trip a few levels upwards.

Skraal had been an urban myth amongst the population of Coruscant's undercity for centuries now, they kept to the shadows. Eat, scavenge, mate. But under the unified banner of King Smeg they had began to scurry out into the public consciousness. Hear the plight of the rodent-kind!

This coming out, so-to-speak had benefitted Smeg in ways that he couldn't imagine. Such as the discovery of candy. Eating trash and Cthon was all well and good but loop pastries, trammistan chocolate and necrotic sugar candy was something of a divine experience for the Skraal. Not only that, but it was something else he could give to his people to help control them.

Not so helpful for the waistline however. Despite his sessions of Vii Tennis with Tsavong it had done nothing to slow his rampant expansion. Not to mention the sedentary lifestyle that he had plunged himself into. For crying out loud the rodent wasn't even walking anymore. He lay upon his side, the very picture of gluttony, furry stomach pooling onto the cart in what was a decadent display.

Smeg yawned, as his people pushed him to the destination of the arranged meeting.

[member="Darth Carach"], [member="Lieutenant Kir"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Lieutenant Kir"] [member="Smeg"]

To be fair I didn’t really care who was going to help me out here, I had just assumed one of the Hands would have had a vested interest in such affairs, then again… it had been Mei’s responsibility to make sure I knew exactly what was who and where, she wasn’t done yet with her investigation though. So I had to move blind through the proverbial room and hope I ain’t running into anything of use.

‘Follow me, if you will, soldier.’

I walked past him and continued to talk, assuming he would be following me in turn.

‘We are going to take a visit to the Coruscanti Underworld, zombies; mutants and… gigantic sentient rats are going to be a part of our entourage. Rumor has it that there is some kind of kingpin who recently settled in, has a base deep in the entrails of the city. I have reason to suspect that what we seek is located there, you got everything you need?’

 

[Cedric Dorn]

Kir followed along with the Sith Lord perfectly, each step was in sync and each movement was almost copied. The Royal Guardsmen gave off a sense of danger and death, a well trained weapon meant to kill and nothing else. He moved along with his robes fluttering every once in a while, and as they stepped out into the open air of Coruscant the Red Guard simply looked towards Carach.

“Light of Heavy Armor Sir?” The question was an important one.

The Red Guard had tow armors available to them. There was the ceremonial armor, the one that he wore now, and the far more effective and less subtle Power Armor that had been designed for them. The latter was massive, bulky, and above all powerful. Only a few hundreds of the thousands of Red Guards actually got to wear them, but he figured if they were going into the deep underworld it would be prudent to ask if heavy armor would not be better.

Then again he had never been to the Coruscant underworld, having been born on Csilla.

Still, from the description he had been given, and general knowledge that the rumor mill provided, the Underworld was not a place one took lightly.

 

[Smeg]

His designated throne pushers groaned as they pushed the heavy cart around the backstreets of the undercity.

“King Smeg iz heavy...” one of them panted, his back protesting at the way in which he was pushing the cart. I don't know how repulsors work, if they're supposed to be hard to push when leaden with heavy objects, but let's not discuss physics.

Smeg took it as a compliment, he was the only big Skraal on the black. That made him special, that made him important. Welcome to the age where size equals grandeur! We're going medieval. Smeg isn't fat, Smeg is regal. Of course, he couldn't have his people complaining before him.

Slowly he rolled over onto his back, reaching beneath his bulk to pull out a claw-full of namana candies. Such a kind and gracious king, he stretched out his offering to the pair of throne pushers, which of course was accepted with complete gluttony.

Once greedily devoured the journey to the meeting point continued. They weren't far now.

“Dey bettah be 'dere. Bettah not keep Smeg waitin'.”

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Smeg"] [member="Lieutenant Kir"]

There was one drawback to the heavy armor, you ain’t gonna be able to move quickly enough. You gotta understand this, there are /huge/ swarms of zombies down there, I ain’t talking ten or fifteen critters; I am talking hordes of hundreds flesh-eating mongrels. I ain’t even sure how said kingpin was able to carve out a piece of his kingdom there, he would need a damn army and a fortress to make a proper base of operations.

But we would find soon enough, wouldn’t we? I shook my head as a response towards the Guard. ‘Light armor, we will have to be able to move quickly. You don’t want to be dogpilled by fifty of those bastards, Got a disruptor gun on you by any chance? Might come handy.’

I had been there once before, and I am still alive to tell the tale… then again a Force-Powered Super Hulk Woman had been having my back then. Wondered where Fabula was these days, probably beating up a mountain or something, seemed like her style.

 

[Cedric Dorn]

Kier shrugged.

It didn't matter to him. He had his Electro-staff and blaster, and that was enough. The Power Armor likely would've helped, given that nothing less than a tank could pierce through it, but whatever the Sith Wanted, they got. In response to Carach's question Kir simply pulled his WESTAR-43 from its holster, showing the weapon before returning it to its hidden place. The powerful Charric pistol was standard issue in the Red Guard.

They only used top quality equipment.

He frowned slightly beneath his helmet. He didn't like the thought of being overwhelmed. If that was such a danger, why not take an entire regiment and simply clear the place out? He supposed that perhaps that would cause too much of a stir, and the higher ups wouldn't like using that many resources on something that as of yet, was not a problem.

He simply frowned, and then continued on, boarding the transport craft that would take them down into the dirt.

 

[Smeg]

They had arrived first.

This of course displeased the King, who was very used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. Like a petulent child, he huffed and puffed while laying upon his throne. Although perhaps the huffing and puffing was simply due to how out of shape he was becoming. All this, rolling over nonsense was perhaps too much. Perhaps it was time to recruit a Skraal to turn him over.

Creatures of squalor and filth did not, evidently take well to being elevated above each other.

Speaking of elevation, it was just as Smeg was reaching beneath his growing arse for another bama bar that the broken repulsors gave out, although one side gave out first, rocketing the rodent off of the cart and rolling him onto the ground in what was an utterly embarrassing display, he squeaked as this happened, further cementing the show in the big book of shame.

“GWEEEAK!!! HELP YER KING, BRUVVAS! NOWZ!”

[member="Darth Carach"], [member="Lieutenant Kir"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Lieutenant Kir"] [member="Smeg"]

Sometimes convenient timing was a schutta, especially when you were a Rat King with the regality of a potato and you just fell of your throne, it really should try and work-out a bit… it might prevent future awkward situations. But that was merely a thought, one that didn’t even pass through Carach’s mind… mind sometimes the writer likes to meddle, don’t mind me. (ha ha)

At any rate, it was simply convenience that Kir and Carach found their way to the designated place of meeting when Smeg was acquainting himself with the dirt that was decorating the floor.

For a while both Imperials just stood there, slightly awkward, waiting for the King to find his bearing once again. It might have brought a slight smile, tugging at the far reaches in the corner of his mouth, or perhaps it was just an illusion. Difficult to say with a man like the Voice of the Dark Lord.

‘ Smeg, I think the floor and you have arrived at second base. Keep the rest of ‘em from public eye.’

He looked at Kirr and gave him a slight nod with his head.

‘Go and check-out the perimeter while I talk with the… King. We aren’t that far into the Underworld, but we can’t be too careful.’

 

[Smeg]

Of course, of course that was when they arrived, when Smeg was playing roly-poly upon the ground, with his hilariously slender limbs flailing wildly as his subordinates rushed around like headless chickens to pick him up. They couldn't have been just that touch later, no. It had to be now, at the height of humiliation.

How will they take you seriously now, Smeg?

“WURFLESS! WURFLESS!” he screamed, as the throne pushes struggled to pull the obese creature back onto his feet. Once back upright he tottered slightly with a certain lack of grace, understandable given how much time Smeg had been spending upon his arse. Poor neglected legs.

“TO FINK 'DAT I GAVE YOUZ CANDY!”

This of course, spurred his throne pushers into action, the simplistic greed and notion of further candy denial leading them into trying to repair his repulsor throne. Of course, by repair I mean, they started kicking at it furiously.

Last but not least, he addressed his visitors.

“Why haz you summoned, Smeg?” he spat, still mortified about the position these men had just seen him in. He was supposed to be a King! Not a fool! The Skraal wrenched his makeshift trousers up above his gargantuan gut and tightened his rope belt hard, as if the ratty material would camouflage his girth.

[member="Darth Carach"] [member="Lieutenant Kir"]

 

[Cedric Dorn]

Lieutenant Kir looked at the Sith Lord for a moment, then at the filthy Rat Lord.

He thought about shooting the thing, but then realized they were vastly outnumbered and there was a reason they were here, to talk with the thing. Part of him thanked whatever deity he prayed to that he was wearing full and sealed armor, he assumed that this room stunk to high heaven. His gaze flickered over towards the Sith one more time, then back at the rat.

The implacable stare of his visor centered on them, and then he simply turned away. The Royal Guard would “secure” the perimeter. Of course there wasn't much he could do. They were near the undercity, which meant that there were many threats, so many that one Royal Guard couldn't begin to account for them all.

Still, Kir did his duty, walking slowly around the area and ensuring no one else was coming.