Private Careless Whisper

[Darth Empyrean]

Jutrand
876 ABY

The planet roared with life, a corporate paradise on the edge of the Galaxy. Matched by only Terminus, the planet was unattenable to the vast majority of the Outer Rim - especially in the South. The skies were full of speeders and ships, freighters and patrol boats, anything to keep their flourishing economy alive. Make up on a pig - as beneath that immaculate economic agenda was a beast who's chains rusted by the hour.​

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Many had gone missing in the previous months, local police forces were trying to keep it quiet for the sake of consumer confidence, but they were piling. Their intention to hide the murders has only harmed the investigatory process, ensuring communication between local forces was blunted and poor. Now the murders expand - each more gruesome than the last.​

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While the details were hidden to the general populace, each killing had things in common. Disembowlment, ritual circles, sith markings - these were sacrifices to the Dark Gods on a planet blinded by creds; and the guilty rode free beneath their sycophantic gaze. Cults of immense reach - and soon to be more. A dark voice guided another to this place; Venor - asking for his strength, his assistance, his power. To give him a chance at divinity - to serve as a member of the dark pantheon, as was his birth right.​

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As his ship entered the atmosphere, the whispers showed him the port he would land upon - and the code he must answer with when asked what service he required.​

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This would be the beginning of his journey - an induction into evil.​

 

[Xeev Deechi]

Traversal across the stars had given Venor time to think. Those thoughts had been troubled, filled with memories that fueled his overwhelming anger and unrelenting loss, yet the voice that whispered beckoned with a certainty the pale man couldn't ignore. He could sense within the words an unspoken inclination, of revenge realized, of potential to bring ruin to the enemy, and Venor presently needed little motivation beyond that.

Jutrand.

The ship systems indicated the name of the planet, along with some mundane data, but it all mattered very little. The approach had been forthright, the whisper had given Venor what he needed to approach, and through that mysterious dark side the path was revealed. There had been no way for the pale man to know such clarity could be gained with the mysterious energy he now felt around him, it caused Venor to wonder if the exactness and change had come from communing with the dark place, or if it was something else altogether.

Nonetheless, the pale man had recovered more so from his ordeal, at least physically. The ship had provided food and water, simple fare all told, but fanciful sustenance was not a concern for him. His clothing remained, stained white robes, a remnant of his past and a focus he would wear to keep to task. Though, before long, the light freighter had reached a place - one unknown to Venor, in truth - but one that felt right... and with some effort, as the pale man was newer to piloting, the vessel touched down on the chaotic city-world.

Venor stood from the pilot chair.

He reached out, his slender fingers found the familiar obsidian sword within reach.

"Let us see where the whispers lead now," The pale man muttered, as he walked from the ship and down the ramp. "To what. Or whom."

There, on the artificial landing of Jutrand, Venor turned his orange-eyed gaze forward at the structure before him, a mixture of curiosity and boiling rage, as he paused to consider what the dark side might deem to speak...

Darth Empyrean​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The planet's skies were littered with traffic - but amidst them, more police and security vehicles projected power than ever before. On a far wall a holoscreen ignited with the shape of Jutrand's leader, Chairman Faust, and the council of five behind him. They stood in solemn strength, unified by his words as he spoke to the city-world;​

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"Jutrand, know that the violence we see before us is due to political extremists. In the coming days, I will sign into law a bill that will expand our military and protect our great republic. This, I promise you. Trust me with your vote -"​

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The rest began with the usual drivel, political theater meant to gain support for an election that may never come, pushed by a man desperate for a long term goal. Blind to the short term threat before him, blind to the threat of the Dark Side as it infected the veins beneath his feet, corrupted the minds of children, and began to speak fire in his streets.​

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A man in security uniform passed a keycard along to Venor as he passed - a simple knowing nod to send him onwards. The door opened at his proximity and he was allowed through. Down the hall another would mention before he was sent to a lift - then up to a parking garage. In there were a collection of citizens in simple clothing - but to the trained eye, one could see they held blasters beneath their coats, tension in there hands. Their eyes twitched, looking for someone to enter their security - but none did.​

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Another in a more regal robe lined with red exited the speeder. He smiled to Venor, taking a knee before the Sith with great deference. Keeping his eyes to the durasteel platform beneath them he spoke;​

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"Great Lord, the Dead God has spoken of your arrival. We are here to show you to him - if you will allow it."​

 

[Xeev Deechi]

The circumstances were beyond most things Venor had experienced.

Beyond the life of a laborer, or that of a warrior when threatened, the pale man had no experience with such clandestine events. He took the offered security card, orange eyes glanced down to regard it, before he was ushered onward. Through door checkpoints, the pale man was further guided, and with each step Venor began to wonder at the source of the whisper, whether it was truly ethereal - from beyond what was known, from the essence of the dark side itself - as he believed.

The lift was new to him, it inspired trepidation and suspicion. As, compared to the simple huts and caves of his past, the technology was beautiful in its simplicity - though the function wasn't evident immediately. Venor did not know how far he traveled, but he knew he moved upward, until the doors to the small space opened once more. Beyond stood more sentients, who seemed to mill about, amid a place for stationary vehicles.

Still with shadowy, writhing sword held casually in hand, Venor wondered at what was next.

The door of a speeder opened, which presented an individual in robes of exquisite make, whom approached and took a knee before the pale man. There was some momentary confusion, especially when Venor was greeted as Great Lord, to which his pale brow furrowed and orange eyes looked around, until...

"Dead God?"

Venor's head inclined to one side, as he looked at the kneeling sentient.

"Yes... yes, take me to this Dead God."

There was some relief, as the possibility that the whispers were in fact from the dark side, after all. Surely a God, one that was dead, spoke with the power of the mysterious energy from beyond the galaxy, and could provide guidance and answers to Venor's vow of revenge. The sentient before the pale man was clearly a disciple or servant of the mighty dark side entity, that which called from across the stars, and the pale man found his dry lips parted into a smile as he motioned with his free hand:

"I am ready."

And Venor would follow the guide, willingly.

Darth Empyrean​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The man stood, but did not dare look Venor In the eyes. Instead he turned, motioned for him to sit in the speeders passenger compartment - sith runes lining the ceiling as an artifact shrouded dark side potential from the passing sensitive. It was a ship meant for the clandestine traversal of a powerful Sith - now used by Venor.

The cultist did not join him within the ships belly - rather taking a passenger seat on the other side of a divider, with the robotic driver. Despite the soundproofing, Venor could hear the soft ritualistic prayers the man made in a long dead language - wrapping his hands around a set of beads made of obsidian. Passing by the massive skyscrapers of the planet, the world seemed alight with a different energy than what existed in the speeder - ignorant to the echos it would soon create.

The view would soon depart as they were brought low into the belly of the planet - wide skyscrapers replaced with grimy arcology of poverty. The face of addicts and criminals glanced at the out of place speeder - but few did anything more than a passing gaze, more entranced by the struggles of their own life. Parking in a Reinforced garage, the speeder set down with a gentle rock - then the door opened to more cultists chanting in time.

Their song was dark and esoteric - and the path they made led to a different room where smoke from incense burners shrouded already cloaked faces. At the head of it, a man let his blood drip into a chalice - then drank it as Venor approached. He paused, then convulsed - falling to a knee as spit and blood garbled from his mouth.

Yet after only a second, the rooms chanting quieted - and a dark, oily presence overcame it. Candles lit struggled to stay lit as the darkness encroached and the man sputtering stood. His eyes, now a pure midnight black, looked upon Venor with a curiosity - only for the light to return.

The cultists in the room prostrated themselves further to the ground - hands stretched far in front of them, palms facing up as though begging for a gift. The black eyed vessel of darkness ignored them.

"Venor.", a series of voices overlapping from the man with black eyes and the cultists in unison spoke.

"We are glad to see you arrive - you've done well to follow our voice."

 

[Xeev Deechi]

Venor followed silently, toward the waiting vehicle, before he slid into the interior. He pulled his robes around himself, caught sight of the runes, and wondered at the meaning of each. It mattered little, however, as the faint voice of prayer from the front of the vehicle became the focus of interested ears, and the pale man blinked slowly at the unknown words.

Beyond the glass, the city rushed by. It would have been a marvel, were it not for the attention given to the ritualistic murmuring, though every so often orange eyes averted to catch some skyscraper view as it passed. Then it seemed they began to descend, down into the bowels of the city, into the darkness that waited.

It seemed fitting.

Venor watched with fascination, everything he witnessed so new and unrealized to his mind, due to his simpler lifestyle before. When the vessel came to a stop in an enclosed space, Venor saw the door open and stepped out, and was immediately flooded with the chanting of many beyond. While he didn't understand the words, there was no denying that something - deep down, inside on an intrinsic and animalistic level - was awoken by the voices that echoed with dreary tones...

"These words. I feel I should know them." Venor muttered to no one in particular. "And yet."

Then a dark sensation, as the very light in the room struggled to remain light, and then the cultists lay on the floor with faces downward to begin chanting Venor's own name.

From nearby, the man with black eyes spoke.

"Your voice?" Venor narrowed his orange eyes, as he tilted his head. "It is true the voices have guided me, though do you claim to know the source? Or perhaps that you are the source?"

The pale man was unsure of how that potential revelation might make him feel, as he had thought the mysterious energy had been speaking to him, but it remained that perhaps it was something - or someone - else the whole time...

Darth Empyrean​