Catch Me if you Can -- CIS Dominion of Trendivar Hex

[Sabine Delacroix]

​

Attire: This
Equipment: Lightsaber, Mask
TAG: Vytal Noctura

Sabine appeared through the portal only moments after the Nightmother had emerged, silently following after as she tempered her enthusiasm for seeing a new world for the first time she allowed her senses to stretch out and feel the planet and a soft smile touched her lips beneath her mask it was faint but there was darkness on this world. Allowing her eyes to wander she scanned the horizon of this world, Trendivar. In her time not even the Republic had ventured this far, it was after all curiosity that brought her along on the Nightmothers errand.

Her eyes moved back to Vytal Noctura as she began to use her power to conjure up something, she watched with rapt attention as the ground seemed to drink up the magic and began to split apart as an undead creature clawed its way to the surface, the Nightmother without pause walked to the being and spoke to it, the words were clear enough for her to hear but she knew not what she referenced, the piercing screech that likely would have pained lesser beings, but if it bothered Sabine she gave no sign of it as Vytal began to walk off she watched the being quickly become a pile of bones. At that moment she would turn and follower after the Nightmother once again. "You are quite full of surprises, what are we seeking on this world. I can feel it has been touched by darkness, at one point or another but beyond that is veiled"

She finally spoke as she moved alongside Vytal, the blonde woman's hair was a stark contrast both to the black mask she wore as well as the hood that ensured her head was concealed as much as possible from the planets sun, though she might survive for a time it did not make for a pleasant experience in the least.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions

Tag: Sabine Delacroix​

"As you are aware," Vytal responded while she moved, "the Mandragora locates and collects objects of power for study and to ensure they do not fall into the hands of those that would use them to bend Creation to their will." Darth Phral -- Sabine -- would know this from her time among the Witches. There were countless artifacts being studied at any given time. No point trying to mislead anyone that stayed at the Castle for more than an hour as to the purpose or desire for such study. Those resourceful enough would inevitably learn of or hear mention of The Vault said to be housed deep within the fortified construct as well, where the MAndragora kept the most dangerous and most powerful of objects in the Confederacy's collection. Even if the other 'Chapters' now housed their own, Vytal had not surrended the historical relics previously amassed by those in the Confederacy before the formal introduction of the other Academies. It was a sore subject, though she would share certain items with outsiders to avoid fostering a competitive spirit with the others.

"Yet there are those sources of power one cannot possess any more than you could hold a star in the palm of your hand. There is a doorway, here, that can take us to such a place, but it can only be used once." Their path took them through the brush of the world and toward what seemed to be a towering and jagged mount. "It becomes bound to those that use it. Inaccessible to others until the Living Witnesses perish. Then their bones too might point the way for another like us." A smile crept over Vytal's black lips.

"You will know when the choice is before you," the Nightmother added in case Sabine had any doubts of her corpse being such a 'guide' decades, centuries, or even millennium after her time among the Living.

Once they came upon the foot of that jagged and dark peak, Vytal lifted her hand once more and channeled power straight ahead. The ichor flowed against the slope for a moment before it shifted slightly to the right and was quickly swallowed. Vytal's eyes noted where it had vanished, but such was unnecessary as a loud crack filled the air. Soon a rectangular indentation formed in the slope of rock and earth, and then fell inward.

Without a word, the pale woman led the way inside. This was merely what hid what lay within from discovery. Perhaps it had once been a temple for some long-since forgotten cult or people. In another time, Vytal might have take her time to puzzle that out, but not today. There were greater secrets to be found buried here.

As they entered the mountain's interior, the rock-face of the shaft made for them soon gave way to polished stone. How far they walked, or how deep they'd gone became difficult to gauge as little defining features were made clear save scattered debris along the floor. Even the way back had become an inscrutable abyss of darkness.

Whether they spoke or traveled in silence, the corridor would eventually open up into a large chasm. Benches and vases sat up against the wall to either side, while before them stretching from the floor to the ceiling and from one side of the chamber to the other was a field of fluid, luminescent energy. Their eyes could see the energy flow and wave suspended in the air where it was. Pinpoints of light grew with intensity and then faded across its surface. What lay beyond was hidden from those that stood in that half of the room.

The Nightmother turned to look over at Sabine. "Dare to join me where mortals ought not tread?"

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Vanir Eris]

​

Location: Cantina
Wearing: xxxx
Tag: Redd | Rylan Kordel | Darth Metus | Fury of Aerðs | Arro Peradun | Gerwald Lechner

It had been a bit of a surprise that when his presence was requested, it was not for what he had expected. He slipped in just as he heard the young woman ask what was wrong with her and then about the ‘hold your liquor’. He snorted. “It’s something you don’t seem to be able to do right now and as for pack and humans. They don’t have one. Even among their own kin, they do not stay connected. So don’t feel bad.”

He gave her a gentle ruffle of her hair and sat down. He was easily as tall as Gerwald and almost in the same weight class, but also the newest among the ‘zoo crew’. It seemed to him the man had intentionally formed himself his own ‘pack’ even if he himself was still outlier enough to haven’t fitted himself into its hierarchy. Did he even want to?

Having a pack wouldn’t be so bad, you might not be lonely, but I am.

Eris’ words whispered mournfully and Vanir gave Gerwald a sideways glance as his other half’s sadness made his chest ache. For him he stayed and stood with the man, even if he wasn’t sure of him yet. His soul-brother didn’t ask a lot of him and so for him to mention something like this, how could he deny him? Yet he wasn’t sure if he himself knew how to be ‘part of a pack’.

He ordered his drink and took a sip. It reminded him of the time his brothers took him to his first tavern to drink. Thinking of his clan only made the pain worse and he shoved it aside. “This isn’t so bad, but I have tasted better though… I haven’t found a place within the Confederacy that is better than what I am sampling now. If there is even such a place.”

While he didn’t drink often, he did like going to where it flowed well. However with his new duties as Viceroyal of Arbra, he wondered how often he will get to do that with everything else he had on his plate. He hadn’t told Gerwald about it, but suspected the man knew. It changed nothing however, he wasn’t one to sit idle when he was called to help and no one would be able to keep him from going where he meant to go.

 

[Nyx N1X3]

Tag: Amelia von Sorenn | General Kalypso

Nyx strode through the camp with her optical units scanning and cataloguing as she went. Organic lifeforms attempted to perform this function, but were often quite inefficient at the task. 'Please hold still,' 'Please turn this way,' 'Please stop hiding your face' would often be heard as they attempted to frame people for holo-recording. Fortunately, she'd brought along a few small hovering droids to supplement her own efforts.

Naturally few seemed taken by her metal chassis unlike the organics that walked among them. Nevertheless, Nyx did pick up on various requests and questions made by the refugees present. At times she would even deviate from her course to make it know a concern had been logged and would be responded to after it was assigned to the appropriate party and prioritized. There would be many items that would need addressed, and it was only logical to recognize not everything could be done concurrently. As many resources as the Confederacy brought to bear on this world, there came a point when throwing more people or technology at a problem became counterproductive.

On the other hand, if you had a suifficient number of centrally controlled droids and electronic intelligences you could deploy as many units as were available. It was therefore quite vexing to hear about the 'exploits' of the Confederacy's numerous OOM units -- a model of disfunctional if surprisingly effective droids also on this world on another mission. A mission that, frankly, Nyx had submitted was a waste of material and resources. Nevertheless, her 'superiors' said they would 'leave no stone unturned' in search of Kaine Australis. That was hardly the best course of action to locate the organic in question, in this droid's humble opinion.

If they would stop masquerading as the galaxy's champions of virtue and justice -- a role everyone else seemed content to ignore in favor of jingoism -- perhaps the Confederacy would allow Nyx to deploy the Special Operation resources to locate Kaine. As it was, she had to keep such resources stepping lightly and performing surgical operations to avoid being discovered by those Nyx worked with and for. Painfully inefficient.

"Grand Marshal, requisition orders for supplies have been forwarded for consideration," Nyx transmitted as she continued her round through the refugees. It would be more intellectually stimulating to meet these so-called Hellknights. Especially the Battle Angels.

Her receiver picked up a transmission from orbit, which was most opportune for those on the planet. Nyx opened a separate channel to the C.N.S. Salvator. Their Captain was a droid. Surely it could handle speaking to two sentients at once. She would find out if her channel was accepted in short order. "General UTD-001 Kalpso, this is N1X3 Nyx," not that she often used her actual designator since organics preferred names, "will your vessels be remaining in orbit for the duration of the exercises?"

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

Attire: This
Equipment: Lightsaber, Mask
TAG: Vytal Noctura

One thing that Sabine had learned in her time with the Nightmother is that she was not without purpose, every action she took was well planned and hardly done in haste though most importantly she had insights that were foreign to her that would be invaluable, and so she remained silent while Vytal Noctura spoke. Of course, she had learned about the Vault of the Mandragora and about the contents within powerful artifacts sealed away from the galaxy to protect it, of course deep in her mind she had considered trying to access it and claiming it for herself, but to what end in this place in this time she could wield no more power than her own perhaps if she had chosen differently on Nathema, influence, and power was promised but she chose something else, knowledge.​

Her eyes glanced to the Nightmother as they walked in silence for a time, while betrayal was the nature of the Sith it was one path she chose not to embrace, instead, she would learn and grow to avail herself of the Mandragora and both learn and teach. There was much for them to exchange in the realm of knowledge and it would be foolish to waste that goodwill over temporary gains, she indeed had lifetimes ahead of her still and if in the latter years of her life she would decide it was time to return to her roots, perhaps she would but for now, Vytal was an ally maybe in time a friend, a curious thought for Sabine indeed.​

Her eyes watched the corridors and walls with interest, many intricate carvings and writings adorned them, some looked Sith some looked like something else, whatever this place was it was the darkness she had felt on their arrival of that she was certain. Once they were deep into the darkness she removed her mask blonde curls of her head revealing themselves and her eyes a vibrant glowing blue in the dark as they adjusted to help her see. She took in the sight of the chasm with interest and watched the movement of energies as the corners of her mouth lifted in a genuine smile as she chuckled a bit at the question "My dear Nightmother, one does not sit upon a seat of the Dark Council by being timid. As for what happens to this body when my time finally ends? Be it dust or a road map to treasure hunters in a thousand years. It matters not to me. Ambition and agenda pass on with the body. Although there are ways to even escape death for a while. Now then I do have a habit of treading where one should not, I see no need to change that now. Let us be the insolent mortals we are."​

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions

Tag: Sabine Delacroix​

"Good. Then I will tell you now, where we go will hold great knowledge and power. There may be those that will seek to stop us if we lay claim to either." Such was not said to frighten or deter, but merely to prepare. Sabine had made it clear she would not turn back, and the Nightmother would not waste time trying to frighten her otherwise. The Sith Lord was intelligent and quite capable of making her own choices in these matters.

With that said, the Witch strode toward the field of energy. Her steps did not slow nor faulter as she began to pass through the shimmering veil.

They would emerge into the ruins of an ancient, white palace. The ceiling had long since fallen due to time (if it had ever existed at all) and above was a canopy of densely populated trees where narrow shafts of light would peek through now and again. Vine crept and wound their way over most of what still stood. Some broken marble or stone could be found here or there littering the floor, but would not impede one's progress. In fact, the floor itself was in surprisingly good condition despite cracks where low-lying plant life had sprouted or spread from.

To either side the remains stretched. The far end of the length to their right seemed to open into a courtyard with something erected therein; while to their left emptied into the wilderness where a faint shimmer of light close to the ground could be seen between the trees.

There were no other passages, and the women would find themselves in the middle of this passageway. Where they had come from and the field of energy could not be seen from where they now stood. The door had been shut.

"Now, then," Vytal looked to Sabine after she took stock of their surroundings, "a question. Is it possible for a person to know too much, Sabine? There is a story from centuries past of someone that learned too much and acquired too much power. It is said holding both the Darkness and the Light in their grasp, they became a monstrous force that brought together these opposing powers to contain it, such was the threat it posed to the galaxy."

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

Attire: This
Equipment: Lightsaber, Mask
TAG: Vytal Noctura


The moment the Nightmothers feet started moving so did Sabine, as she stepped through the veil it took her but a moment to acclimate to her new surroundings, the ruined temple or whatever it had once been she could feel the heat from what she assumed was a sun and quickly donned her mask again concealing her once more. She took the time to look carefully around them the structure was old, far older than even she was and the air was charged with power, she glanced to Vytal before she turned back toward the corridors and to the Nightmothers question.

"I do not know the story you speak of, but Sith seek power in exclusion to rationality. A flaw clearly, but can one truly know too much? I do not know. I have dedicated my life to learning, even this ruin we stand in would entertain me for a lifetime. I suspect however we will not be able to linger that long though before we draw attention though no?" she glanced at the two passages before them weighing them, judging them and probing them with the force one called to her more than the other she knew that but she while familiar with the ruins of men and monsters and long-dead empires were her expertise, where they found themselves currently was the domain of the witches only by Vytal's leave would she move.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions

Tag: Sabine Delacroix​

Vytal looked to the woman that accompanied her to this sacred place. "Perhaps it is not knowing that gives us reason to exist. Perhaps that is the lesson from the tale. Those that come to know everything lose everything -- they become wild beasts set loose upon the world. But," the Nightmother turned her head toward the courtyard in the distance, "is that true if one obtained power? There was another tale... of a time when those were tempted, yet refused."

"Mind Walkers," the Nightmother replied at last to Sabine's question. "We share an understanding that it is not dogma or a clearly defined set of tenants that enables one to understand Creation. It is by communing with one another and viewing the many facets of Creation that we come closer to understanding the whole. If they linger... They were not known to be violent, but time changes many things."

Despite the possibility of intruders, the Nightmother did not move hastily through this realm. Here was no place to be running around as ignorant babes, even if that was precisely what they were compared to where they now stood.

"The greatest danger is one you've already faced and know well. Time stands still here. You could spend eternity here, but once you left you would find the galaxy unlike that you left behind -- should Creation itself have not been renewed by the Unknowable Powers." The Unnamed, the Undying, the Unknowable... a source that started everything in motion. The force that animated the Source to give rise to life; that created the material realm for life to exist. Did they exist? Were they in anyway capable of thought, or speech, or acts of will like what sentient life would recognize? There were gods and goddesses to be sure, and their power was not diminished by Vytal saying this... but the Nightmother believed there was something Older. Something beyond description. The last, great mystery of the world when all others were solved.

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Haastal Haran]

The Mandalorian stood beside the Minister of War, gazing out over the terrain around them when his gauntlet began to beep. Haastal glanced down, noticing the light blue indicator light that was flashing over his gauntlet. He snorted softly under his helmet before looking to the Minister, Caesar Kenway. "Sorry, gonna have to terminate our contract for a bit." He told the man before stepping back and tapping a button on his wrist. The flames from his jet pack exploded down while the man flew up into the skies. He exhaled before watching his HUD activate a single blip that showed him exactly where he needed to go.

It didn't take him long before he found a small plateau surrounded by a rocky plain. There was a ship resting on the edge of the hill and Haastal recognized it immediately. He set himself down on an even part of the rock before glancing up at the ship. Haastal pulled the buy'ce from his head and set it down on a boulder beside him.

"Always fuckin' late to the party." He said, pulling his cigarra from a pack on his waist. After lightning the cylinder and taking a deep hit from it, he looked up to find the main bay to the ship opening up.

"Y'know I just dropped a good payin' bodyguard gig to hunt this piece of shutta with you!" He called out at the woman he knew was inside the ship. "Hurry up Safira Varad!"

 

[Safira Haran]

Objective | Manhunt
Tags | Haastal Haran ​

“GODDAMN PILE OF RUSTY ASS BOLTS.” Safira screamed in frustration, aiming the tip of her steel toe boot at the panel that refused to budge. A satisfying echo of metal against metal danced off the walls, pinging back and forth eternally, but it made the situation no less frustrating. Another clang followed as she threw the tool she clutched at relentlessly down to the ground.

Safira ran a hand through the thick mass of curls on her head, not caring that the tips of her fingers were coated in engine grease. There was no chance she was going to get it to work now. That’s why this contract was so desperately needed. If she couldn’t find the replacement parts soon there was every chance that she was going to be stuck on this backwater planet for all eternity. Her dark brows furrowed in the centre as her eyes scanned over the tangle of multicoloured wires, however she found little time to come up with a solution when the sound of a familiar voice trailed through the corridors of the ship.

Safira couldn’t help but smirk, coupled with the soft shake of her buoyant curls. Abandoning the broken panel for now, she turned on her heel to leave the ship sweeping her helmet up in one hand on the way past.

“Well it wasn’t gonna be better paying than this, was it?” Her eyes rolled up as she stormed from the belly of her ship, clutching a data pad that spit a vibrant azure hue all over her hand. Safira didn’t check to see if he was looking, nor did she make any indication of what she was about to do. The datapad left her hand in a rush, flying through the air directly toward Haastal. “Feast your eyes on that payday. Juicy, huh?” She quizzed as she bent at her waist to clip her boots on correctly.

He was always complaining about something or other. Figures that he’d be upset about some boring ass job that a blindfolded porg could do.

 

[Haastal Haran]

Haastal raised his eyes when he heard Safira's loud exclaim come from inside the ship. He couldn't help but chuckle at the way the woman railed on about the bucket that she'd flown to the planet. When the woman finally came out of the ship, he had flicked off a small ember of ashes from the tip of his cigarra. Just as he looked up a datapad had flown over to him from Safira. He backed up, catching the datapad against his chest before glancing down at the pad. "Karkin'-" His words trailed off when he saw the number of zeroes behind the target.

"Damn..." He muttered, his cigarra hanging off the edge of his teeth. He let it fall to the ground below, grinding it out with his boot before looking up to the woman. "Fifty-fifty split, this will keep me livin' lavish for a whiiiiile." He said, before clicking through the information on the pad.

"Confederacy needs to keep up these man hunts for a while if they want to catch anything worth havin'." He muttered, before sliding the datapad onto the rock beside his buy'ce. "So do you have a trail to follow or we just gonna hunt this guy on faith?" He asked her. He didn't seem to wait for an answer before pulling his helmet on and activating the HUD once again. He paused for a moment before looking up to Safira. "Hey...you know there is a Hutt palace not far from here. If anyone has some information on someone tryin' to lie low it would be one of those fat slugs." He said with a smirk.

"Still..." He glanced down to the blaster pistols hanging from his waist. "I need somethin' with a bit more kick. You got any rifles on this piece of chit?" He asked, walking towards her ship with a wondering look. "I got a rocket in my pack, so that will do for the heavy artillery. You know we won't get anywhere if we don't bust a few heads." Haastal made his way up the ramp, looking around the cargo hold and tsking at what he saw. "Damn...times are hard, huh?" He said, chuckling back at Safira before finding a rather nice looking power rifle propped up on a crate. "This'll do." He snatched the rifle up before checking the energy hold for the weapon. "Let's go fry some Hutts." He called out to Safira.

Safira Varad

 

[Safira Haran]

Objective | Manhunt
Tags | Haastal Haran
​

A grin came over her expression as his voice trailed off. There was very rarely a chance that Safira got to surprise or shock him in any way, but she had a feeling the sheer amount of digits on this particular head would leave him speechless. It was a rather satisfying feeling.

Safira let out a purposefully long and sarcastic “pfffft”. “Fifty-fifty my ass, Haastal.” She said bluntly. “If it weren’t for me you’d still be trailing a dead end door job that wouldn’t even pay for your drinks.” Still, despite her arguments she made no motion to suggest any other arrangements. At the end of the day, whether she fought against it or not, the cash would be split evenly. Haastal was somewhat family now, a claim bolstered by the fact that they were constantly picking on each other.

Raising a brow at his next question, she opened her mouth to begin an answer, but Haastal charged ahead. Safira could only nod in response. “Nope. No trail, but I was thinking the same thing. Those fat lumps of flesh are good for info at the very least.” She didn’t follow him as he walked toward her ship. He was welcome to anything it contained, but as Haastal was quick to discover, it wasn’t much. Times indeed were hard. “That’s the kriffin’ understatement of the century.” Safira tutted to herself, but it was loud enough for Haastal to hear from the belly of the ship. “My breaks are one piss poor landing away from caving in completely, don’t even know what to tell you about the engine.”

After spending some time in the fresh air adjusting her armour, Safira turned back to follow Haastal. “I got rifles somewhere…” She paused briefly to smack the side of her closed fist against a panel on the ceiling. A dull, metallic thunk filled the ship, followed by a crash as the panel dislodged and fell just in front of Safira. On tiptoes, she reached both hands into the cavern of the ship’s hull to produce two M-47 assault rifles. “I’ve been keeping these for a special target. Bought them for a contract ages ago and never got the chance to use them.” She shoved one of the rifles unceremoniously into Haastal’s chest.

The other, she slung over her back, only to free up both her hands so she could dive back into the smugglers hole. “This one…” She dragged down a heavy slug thrower shotgun with a small grunt of effort on her part. “..is my baby. Picked up some 12 gauge taser rounds for it back when credits were good.” Safira slapped the side of the weapon with an eager grin, and then placed it beside the rifle on her back so she could replace the panel. Once all secured she returned to the helm of the ship, where she spent a good five minutes convincing the engine to sputter to life. When it finally did, Safira leant back with a grin wider than seemed natural on a human face.

It wouldn’t be a long journey, but it would be quicker than walking. The ship rumbled and forced itself into the air, zipping off in the direction of the hutt palace.

 

[Haastal Haran]

When Safira balked at an even split Haastal snorted audibly. "Please. Not like you can shoot a damn thing without me." He said, before syncing his HUD to the rifle in his hand. He lifted the rifle over his shoulder, propping it on his shoulderplate while he looked to Safira. "I'll check the landing gear and brakes when we get back. The engine I can probably get a tune up done on." He said, muttering a few curses under his breath. He hated working on starships, sadly he was fairly decent at it. It was a dumb hobby that the last Haastal had taken up. When Haastal inherited his weapons and beskar'gam he also inherited the man's tool set. He should have sold the damn things.

Haastal was turning to Safira to say something when he watched a loose panel fall onto the ground in front of her. He stared at it for a moment before looking to the woman. "You kidding me? You really fly this piece of chit?" He asked her.

He took one of the rifles from Safira before tossing the other one back on the crate he'd found it on.

When the woman made her way to the cockpit, Haastal leaned over to watch her, speaking in an unsure tone. "Maybe...we just take our jetpacks..." When she showed no sign of using her pack, he groaned audibly before strapping in beside her.

The trip to the Hutt palace was only a few minutes, however flying in Safira's bucket of bolts made it feel like they were reentering the atmosphere of the planet. When they finally set down on the main landing platform, the man turned to stare at Safira. "You really need a new ship." He said, exhaling before standing up and making his way out of the cockpit. While the landing pad was coming down there were two Gamorrean Guardsmen stepping towards the ship. Haastal leaned over to Safira, speaking lowly. "Look, let me do the talkin', I get along well with the Hutt clans." He told her.

When the Guardsmen got closer, Haastal raised his arms in greeting. "Look, we're lookin' to meet with your boss, he in?" The two aliens exchanged glances before squealing back a reply. Haastal lowered his arms with a nod. "Great." The man quickly drew one of the blaster pistols from his waist. With two precise shots he slammed a blaster bolt into each of the guardsmen's heads, causing them to fall back dead. He looked to the smoking holes planted in their skulls before looking back to Safira. "See? Tactful." He said. In the next moment a loud wail came from one of the intercom devices that was attached to the Hutt palace before them.

As the alarm bellowed out the main door to the compound opened, causing Haastal to pull the rifle from his shoulder. "Provably just a few mercs lookin' to make daddy happy." The sound of metal rolling across stone filled his helmet as the door came open to reveal a number of Destroyer Droids, rolling towards the two of them.

"Oh....chit." He muttered before running to a nearby crate to take cover. "Get down!" He yelled, just before the droids deployed their shields, firing a viscous volley towards the two of them.

Safira Varad

 

[Safira Haran]

Objective | Manhunt
Tags | Haastal Haran ​

Safira did not comment on his remark to her ship. Instead she slid a gloved hand across the top of the control panel and whispered something entirely inaudible. “Jetpacks would take us kriffing ages. Flying is quicker. And those damn droids are on the case too, wanna get there before those hunks of sheet metal do.”

When they landed, and Haastal made his comment, Safira scoffed. “Then for kriff sake lets cash in this bounty.” She spun on her chair and made her way out to the landing ramp, where she was greeted with the sight of a hutt palace. Madalorians often did dealings with hutts. Their relationships were rocky, to say the least, but they were bountiful where it counted. “Yeah, yeah…” Safira responded to Haastal, with no shortage of disbelief in her tone at his statement as she shoved her helmet over her thick curls. The Gamorrean guardsmen waddled up to their ship, tusks and drool and all. Safira folded her arms across her chest defensively.

She wasn’t in the least bit shocked when Haastal drew his weapon and made pork chop of the Gamorreans. In fact, Safira might have even chuckled a little. “Yeah, sure." Her tone was laced with sarcasm. "You got as much grace as a rancor in a china market Haastal.” Safira clapped him on his back with one of her gloved hands and moved to step clean over the lifeless bodies, until the wail of the alarm brought her to a complete stand still.

“Kark.” She cursed, loudly and aggressively as she dived for the nearest bit of cover she could find. “Why is it that whenever I take a contract with you we always end up in some goddamn chit?” Her sweet tone had to practically shout over the thunder of heavy fire. Extremely carefully, and with as much forethought to her actions as she could muster, Safira popped her head over the top of the crates.

A sudden barrage of bullets came zipping through the air toward her helmet, which skimmed clean over the top of her helmet as she sunk back into cover. “I count five.” Safira pulled up the short recording of the 360 view she had managed to snag before diving for cover again. Her eyes skimmed over the droids. Definitely five. Destroying them all would waste time, and precious, precious bullets. There had to be a better way. She shifted, just slightly, enough to knock the shotgun resting against her back. “KRIFF YEAH.” She screamed as she ripped the shotgun from her back and slid in the first slug.

“Cover fire please!” She called out over the comm, though she didn’t wait for a response. She knew Haastal would have her back. To the cacophony of gun fire, Safira rose from her cover. A heavy boom cut through the air, followed by a grunt from Safira as the recoil shoved her shoulder back. The first slug, a regular old shotgun round, found its mark in a pipe that ran the length of the wall surrounding the hutt palace. The metal sunk in, for a moment Safira was afraid it wouldn’t pierce it, but suddenly… a rush of water escaped the pipe, streaming out jets of liquid over the droids and the area they stood in. Briefly ducking down behind her cover to load up again, the second slug Safira loaded was a taser round.

The slug, instead of being shot at the droids, was aimed directly at the pool of steadily growing water beneath them. She had done it purposefully, even though she likely knew she’d get chit from Haastal for it, but the moment the slug shattered on impact with the water a bright burst of electrical energy travelled across the puddle and through the droids. Their incessant fire died down as the voltage caused their bodies to convulse and fried their internal circuits. Safira watched it all from behind her cover with a satisfied smile.

She trailed her gaze from the metal carnage to Haastal, and though he couldn’t see it, her smile was wider than ever as she spoke. “When we come back through this way we oughta tear them apart and sell the scrap to that jawa we bump into.”

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

​

Attire: This
Equipment: Lightsaber, Mask
TAG: Vytal Noctura


Sabine looked to Vytal and listened to her as she spoke, perhaps in her younger years even lifetimes ago she would have dismissed such hypotheticals, not even given pause to such questions knowledge was the driving force for her since she became Sith, some craved power she desired knowledge to gain power. This view of the path to power is what set her aside from the modern sith whom she refused to serve, she smiled at once at the Nightmothers tale and her caution. "I have seen first hand what happens to those who seek power with reckless ambition and desire, they are all dead. They let that desire overtake their senses and perhaps to your words become beasts and for that they were indeed slain but lesser beings" she looked away for a moment closing her eyes and taking in the world around them feeling the ebb and flow of the force.

"Absence of knowledge is the beginning of the quest for knowledge, is it possible to know too much? I have lived nearly five millennia. For now, I can say no, perhaps in time that answer will change, perhaps in time you will have to destroy me?" she looked back toward the nightmother, there was no malice in her words or condemnation for a fate she pronounced over herself. To her, it was simply a matter of fact. "May that day never come." as the conversation turned yet again she nodded simply at the name 'mind walkers'.

"Mind walkers do not sound like hospitable hosts, in that particular case perhaps it is best not to linger too long." As she began to explain the flow of time in this place she could almost feel a headache come on at that point, the last thing she needed was to come back to a changed galaxy again, not when she had just pieced together the madness that was the current galaxy. "I do not wish to endure another changed galaxy, let us not spend too much time here then" she folded her arms across her chest and stared down the corridor before them, this place was remarkable but so very dangerous indeed.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions

Tag: Sabine Delacroix​

A shadow fell over Vytal's lips at Sabine's words. There was truth in what had been said. Truth she herself had recognized in rebuking the Sith that came to Dathomir in search of a secret to greater power without understanding. Power without Knowledge. How then could she reconcile what had been written of this place they now occupied? For Knowledge itself had begun to corrupt one that ventured here. Could it be both extremes were too great for one of the Living -- or of such a young race -- to embrace? That either choice would result in calamity? It was a consideration she had put aside in favor of action as Vytal had grown tired of the suffering her Sisters and Brothers endured at the hands of the ignorant and foolhardy.

As they passed through the archway that led to the courtyard, the sound of a running fountain only fifteen feet away washed over them as though it had only just appeared. As they'd drawn closer the 'statue' in the distance had begun to resolve itself into a fount, though no sound had carried down the corridor they traveled until that moment. Around them was a forty-foot wide balcony that stretched thirty feet from the archway to several steps that led down to a grassy knoll.

They were not, however, alone. With but a second pan of the eyes, perhaps drawn by an unconscious tug or sense in the Force, a shadowy figure could be found perched atop a broken column to the left with white eyes watching the women. To the right stood a shimmering, white figure. Each were to either side of the balcony, several feet from the fountain whose clear water bubbled and broke over the marble surfaces.

"Nightmother," a voice then rose from what appeared to be a Human dressed in humble robes that appeared before them, arms held out to either side with open palms. His bright blue eyes held the vitality of a far young man, though he wore the lines of middle-age. With a slight nod, the man then acknowledged Sabine, "Darth Phral. There had been some debate 'when' you would appear. Such are the challenges of such sacred realms. But," one hand lifted to bid them wait, "before we begin, shall we... remove the unwelcome guest?"

A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through Vytal's midsection. The shock caused her to double over with one hand pressed to an invisible wound. Her head was thrown back as the Nightmother collapsed to her knees with a sharp cry. Green flame erupted about her figure, and it felt as though it might very well consume her body and soul in that very moment.

The flames began to fan out and billow into a cloud of green mist with bright green glowing eyes that looked down upon those assembled as it circled above them all. Dark energy flooded the courtyard with a great pressure reflecting of the entity's displeasure at was was occurring.

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Haastal Haran]

Even over the fire of the Destroyer droids, Haastal could hear Safira chiming into his comm on his helmet. He laughed out wildly at her words before calling back. "Oh, you love it!" He yelled back before glancing over the durasteel crate he had hid behind. The droids were laying down steady fire over the two, however their advancement was slow at best given the small movement of their legs.

He glanced down at the rifle in his hands before listening to Safira call for cover fire. "Yea yea, I'm on it!" He called back. Before Safira could move Haastal stood up yelling out. "KARK YOU!" He yelled out loudly, in an attempt to gain the droids attention. Their deflector shields couldn't stand up to the barrage that fell from his rifle, although he didn't concentrate fire on one of them, instead he sprayed the rounds over the entire group. It took the droids a few seconds to register what was happening before they turned their blasters to Haastal, but by that point it was too late, they were already covered in water.

When Safira ducked back into cover, Haastal yelled out. "Are you kriffin' insane?! What are you- giving them a bath?!" When next she went up to fire, Safira had managed to fire a taser round directly into the waters, shocking each droid and effectively overloading their systems. As the metal machines slammed into the water soaked ground Haastal glanced back up from his cover. "Oh, shit...Bath from hell." He muttered.

He stood up, slinging his rifle over his shoulder before walking behind Safira as she stepped over the pile of scrap she'd created. "Yea...you might get a whole ten credits from these pieces of crap. Overloaded circuitry and what isn't burnt out is sure water damaged as hell." He said, before arching a brow at what laid before them. He patted Safira's shoulder as they walked towards the main door to the Hutt complex. It had been sealed shut and Haastal cursed at what laid before him. "Reinforced durasteel. This chit is a..." He trailed off as his eyes spotted a repulsorlift filled with fuel cells for the loading bays.

Haastal started to laugh softly as he walked over to the fuel cells. He ran a hand over them before eyeing them closer. "Tabana. Oh I'm gonna have fun with this." He hopped over the door to jump into the cockpit of the repulsorlift. Haastal guided the craft over to the main door before jumping back down.

"Boom. Damn I love boom." He said, pulling a thermal detonator from his belt and carefully sliding it between the canisters of fuel cells.

"Might want to step back, Safira." He said, before tapping a button and arming the detonator. "Now, you really wanna get the hell away!" He yelled out before running away from the door. He didn't actually get far before a loud explosion erupted behind him, causing his steps to stutter and almost push him over. When the Mandalorian turned back he could see that the doorway to the palace had been effectively blown open. There was a since of pride that generally filled Haastal when he saw something blow up because of what he did and damn did he love it. "Knock knock." He said, pulling a blaster pistol from his waist and leading the way back into the Hutt's palace.

Safira Varad

 

[Safira Haran]

Objective | Manhunt
Tags | Haastal Haran
​

Safira scoffed at his remark. “Well, ten credits is still ten credits richer than I am now. Every little helps.” Shooting him an uneasy grin, she followed in his footsteps as they walked toward the main door of the hutt palace.

They were always so… opulent. Safira could understand it though. When you looked like something that’s dropped out of the back end of a Rancor it made sense to want to surround yourself in beautiful things. Takes some of the sting away. Her face scrunched as they approached the door, quickly coming to the same conclusion Haastal had. There was no way they were busting through these, even if they did have some charges to spare. When his voice trailed off, Safira snapped her head in his direction to follow where his gaze had gone with her own.

A repulsorlift. She watched with incredulity as Haastal climbed into it and drove it over to place it in front of the door. “What in the hell are you doing?” A brow rose, despite being covered by her helmet, as Haastal slid a thermal det out and placed it between the canisters of fuel. She took a step back, then two. Even though she wasn’t sure what was going to happen, she knew how powerful thermal dets could be. If Haastal was sure this was going to blow apart three inches of solid durasteel then she didn’t want to be in the firing range.

Haastal’s voice called out, warning her again of the impending boom. Safira tore her gaze from the repulsorlift and turned tail to join him behind cover. Just as she ducked, a massive explosion rocked the fountains of the palace. Fire and dust and debris filled her vision, clearing only after Haastal had made his joke. Safira chuckled, and shook her helmeted head as she pulled her rifle out as she passed through the now torn apart doors. “Surprised nobody is here to greet us. And I’d always heard such lovely things about hutt hospitality.”

Ironically enough, as they traipsed the halls heading toward where they assumed the slug would be, they hardly passed anyone. Those they did pass must have assumed they were there by invitation, as both of them walked fully garbed in beskar, helmets and all. “Too quiet in here, Haastal… Something is up.” Perhaps they thought they were just a couple of bounty hunters the boss had a job in mind for. If that was the case, it certainly worked in their favour. They’d caused such a ruckus at the door, and caused trouble trying to get through it, it was a nice change of pace to have a little peace.

“Where do you think this fat lump of osik is gonna be?” Safira turned briefly to ask of Haastal, but her eyes mostly remained on the way ahead.

 

[Darth Metus]

M A N H U N T​

Tag: Darth Miseria

The boisterous race was...annoying.

There were few species in the Galaxy that drew the ire of the Sith Lord on sight. For most, it took concerted effort for him to devote time to maintaining animosity. They would have had to commit some crime - some offense for him to spare the thought. Yet, there was one species that always caused the man to scowl. Hutt. From a young age, Darth Metus' hatred for the species had been cultivated. They were notorious for bad dealing, for double-crossing, and for always giving his former people a hard time for their wages. Bounty Hunting and Mercenary work typically flocked to their hovels. And so, for many years, Darth Metus stomached their vile way of doing business.

And so, the man of the present looked upon every Hutt as scum.

The Vicelord of the Confederacy was wise enough to obscure his features this day. His visage cloaked by mask. His form hooded and slashed in black. Today, wrath was in his belly. Recent events had left a sour taste in his mouth - and he was in no mood for jests. But, according to his own Dread Guard, a bounty on his person had been launched from Trendivar. The irony? The mark listed him as Kaine Australis - the infamous Butcher of Eshan. Somewhere in the palace of the Hutt, a fool had seen fit to cross the wires. And now a hefty number of fobs were leading droids, mercenaries, and Confederates alike to His location.

The Sith had killed for less.

This day, he was not alone. His lover, Darth Elyria , kept watch over the Well in his absence. His apprentice, the wintry Srina Talon , kept watch over the Confederacy as he attended to this matter. Those two constants were not at his side for a change - but rather one of his own children. Darth Miseria, a reflection of her sire in many ways, walked in tandem with the Sith as they entered the Palace. Immediately, their nostrils would be beset by the fumes of spice and strong drink. Unwashed bodies and other sordid realities colored the Hutt's abode. Darth Metus' scowl grew by the minute.

Upon stepping fully within the main hall, the Sith made a simple demand to the assortment of guardsmen nearby:

"Where. Is. He."​

 

[Darth Miseria]

M A N H U N T

Darth Metus ​

There was once a time in Dianah’s life that her armour had sat unused and unloved, on a mannequin in the back of her room, but times changed. Now it seemed she was never out of it. The recent attacks on her home planet of Ryloth, by those she had made the mistake of once calling friends, had taken a deep toll on the daughter of Metus. Dianah the woman was too weak and too kind to effectively handle this kind of betrayal.​

​

Donning the mantle of Miseria had been like donning a different personality. A sith lord in her own right who almost perfectly mirrored the rage and power of her father, even if she was a few hundred years behind him in terms of force. Unlike Dianah, Miseria took a much more callous approach to the subject of treachery. Revenge was easily sought when you cast aside previous ties, good or bad, and Misera had allowed Dianah to do just that.​

​

Where her father walked cloaked, Miseria had simply opted to change her face. Ordinarily she would have simply placed her helmet on, but the armour was becoming recognizable. Fortunately for Dianah, her shiido genetics afforded her a different kind of disguise. She had donned an entirely new appearance. In place of her usual caramel coloured skin and soft brown eyes, there was instead a of a different kind striding beside the Vicelord of the Confederacy. With a face white as snow and orbs tinted a vehement shade of crimson. Miseria had little experience with hutts, save for the odd one that claimed the mantle of viceroy from time to time, but they had always been of a pleasant disposition than the ones lingering in the wider galaxy. ​

​

They strode through the thick cloud of heady spices and the acrid scent of alcohol, heading directly for the main hall, heavy but confident footsteps echoing loudly against marble walls. When they arrived Miseria was greeted with a sight she wouldn’t soon forget. Several pig faced guards clutching their weapons for dear life. There was nothing more terrifying than the sound of her father's voice when he was angry, so as it boomed across the hall, Miseria chose to remain silent. They would need no more than the aggression behind his words to get what they wanted. ​

​

She hoped.​