Faction Faceted [NIO]

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

​

• New Imperial Order : Imperial Knighthood​
• 874 ABY : Dantooine, Sandral Fields ​
• Imperial Mining Facility and Khoonda Field Station ​
• Ripples In The Sand​

​

'As the Second Great Hyperspace War drags out, the need for resource and innovation in the power sector grows. Amidst the war ravaged fields of Dantooine, the New Imperial’s forces have begun to quietly make headway, developing the temperate planet. Despite lacking excess mining resources and limited agricultural power, the planet's history is wrought with curiosities that stretch the millennia. Though it’s cultural significance at present time as homeworld of the former Imperator and it’s connections to the Jedi have prompted new investments by the Order. All whilst ongoing salvage efforts continue to recycle old equipment from battlefronts.

During a recent survey, the rediscovery of rich mineral caves systems in the south east sector-abit overrun by the planet’s venomous arachnid the Kinrath-places the internal kyber market and demand on its head. The crystals are known for their attunement to the living Force makes them an ideal component for the construction of lightsabers. In previous times, the Imperial stockpile has provided kyber weapons to the Imperial Knighthood; issuing them by military standard. However, because of countless engagements and lost or damaged equipment, this discovery offers an opportunity to amass strategic reserves of the priceless crystals.

Adegan crystals, limited to a handful of known systems, are located in droves in the subterranean chambers. Wasting no time, Imperial mining operations overseen by IMPCOM have been established over the main chamber, drilling deep. Imperial Scholars from Bastion alongside local aids conduct further surveys through the arachnid-invested caves branching off the main chamber in hopes to discover larger clusters of the crystals. The infestation has slowed mining operations as the Kinrath grow increasingly territorial during excavations. A small party from the Imperial Knighthood has been invited to assist researchers in exploring a new tunnel system, giving them the opportunity to naturally select their own crystals from the mining operation, harkening back to the old Jedi practices similar to that on Ilum.'

Mission Brief Sources:

• Dantooine​
• Crystal Cave​
• Adegan Crystals​
• Kinrath​

*It is highly encourage by the garrison's commander not to venture through the caves alone, there a limited presence of troops stationed in the main chamber to protect miners and equipment presently. Those who do not hold the rank Knight or higher should not enter unaccompanied with out their master. The assistant geologist at the Khoonda Station, Hugo Kordall can help identify crystal samples or other findings.

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

ORDER OF THE IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
CHAPTER 'IRON CRUSADE'
ARMOR | SHIELD | LIGHTSABER
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt

METALLIC MONKS
​

Dantooine. A world of conflicted legacy and ethos in the Empire. It was, on one hand, the solemn and humble birthplace of the Empire's founder, the man who Waymar had sworn an oath once to defend with his life, Irveric Tavlar and in the end, only a reminder of his death and betrayal and the lives spent to take this world in one of the Empire's harshest defeats.

History was, however, just that. History. The reality was, the world was returning to the fold. But strategic demands of the Empire drew attention to it once more. Kyber was at a premium, while it had always been a strategic resource and thus, illegal by Imperial laws to trade on the private market- only permitted to be owned by Imperial Armed Forces and the Imperial Knights for their use in heavy naval weaponry and Knight lightsabers, Adegan Crystals were an alternative which was being investigated for its potential strategic uses by the Imperial military but now, the Knights would stake their claim of them on Dantooine.

He ventured through the mouth of the cave with the others with armored footfalls, his sword at his side and his characteristic shield fastened to the magnetic hold on his back. While he didn't anticipate needing more than the saber- it was difficult to justify under-preparing for any task, certainly in the presence of the subject matter of his newest assignment, Lyra Voi'kryt. His handling of the Imperial Inquisition on Dathomir seemingly raised enough merit to justify him seeing to Lyra's reintroduction into Rurik's Empire, previously only ever loyal to the state of her late lover, Irveric Tavlar.

Or rather, allegedly. Though it was a poorly kept secret, not that it mattered in the moratorium.

The transition would not be so easy and Waymar doubted it would be so genuine at all. If Rurik refused the task, he doubted his own ability in completing it.

"So you never did say- from where was it you acquired your last saber, Voi'kryt? I know you weren't brought into the Sith Academy nor would I believe you to be one with the Jedi, was it right of the conqueror?" Taken from the slain. Though he wished he was so fortunate as to say he was not subjected to the gauntlet that was being Sith. It was in the Knights that he was freed from those horrid chains and granted true purpose.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Ex-Communicated
Order Of The Imperial Knights / Chapter 'Esoteric'
ARMOR/ DURIN / LIGHTSABER
Waymar Dathrohan

Soothsayer
​

The last dredges of the flask were easy to shake out. The liquor stained the golden field’s edge at the tip of her boots. Sybila watched-her jaw was clenched tight as the breeze carried the bitter waft of the corellian draft. It threatened to burn the nose and she breathed it freely and deeply. Dantooine, she reasoned Irveric could rest in peace-had that been the case he would have retired here and the Order would have been in a far different state.

“Top shelf, Irveric...” she muttered. “..I’m sorry.”

He had never known when to walk away. Her servo curled around the flask, wires tensed and plate flexed-denting the swell of the container. Perhaps it was that girlish part still wounded that wished they had made it here, together. Sybila fixed the cap back on the imprinted flask, tucking the silver thing behind plastplate to forget about. The ground shook under boot, the drilling had started again. The facility was a hive, steam rolling from machines as the station stood out from endless rolling hills.

The boys might enjoy it here, the woman tried to smile despite the wallowing feeling that burrowed itself further down her throat.

The woman fixed her servo over her eyes then, the system's sun was well overhead and it wasn’t mid-day yet but sweat beaded on her brow. She peered out into the endless sea of grass, but a handful of trees grew and gnarled branches stretched high toward the skyes. There was..nothing, the wind stirred whistled across the plains and Sybila drank it in. The ache stretched her chest the longer she weighed on memories of the past. The thoughts made her brittle and the woman was simply tired. Her pride and his duty, they had been horrible to each other. Sybila never considered there would come a day she might regret that. There would be no consoling that part of herself, there was no right answer.

Someone had told her grief goes nowhere.

“The research party is about to descend, ma'am!” the soldier’s shout resounded from somewhere behind and the woman turned away from the moor.

However the woman had grown used to distracting herself from it.

Boot heels scraped for purchase on the stone as Sybila pressed forward at the head of the column, her servo grazed along the cold stone to anchor herself. She trailed not far behind the likes of the silver cut Paladin, damned eyes scrutinized the back of the man but there was little to say to him. How promising her keeper should be present, the woman couldn’t be bothered. Sybila did not move without first facing the ever watchful eyes of Rurik Fel, for however long that may be deemed.

There were some muttered exchanges at the rear, scientists tapped away at their holo pads as they made the descent. Sybila maintained silence, eyes scouring the dark edges of tunnels that shot off from the main path. Armor scraped and clicked as she gracelessly dropped down the steep, rocks tumbled from underfoot and echoed down the length of the tunnel. The miner’s electrical line ended. A final iridescent lanter slowly fading away behind the band as they pressed into the darkening cavern.

A mission was by any means a welcome distraction. The woman might have harbored stray concerns over the mining, just as tensions continue to rise on the political front. Kyber was far too dangerous in the wrong and skilled hands, the trade stood in a chokehold by the Empire. Sybila, while disinclined to mention who and where, own hand had passed over a drove in her early apprenticeship; the cases had been lined out. Each kyber, not every one crystalline, or marked by the same facet..

Avernus, something seized in her and ice crept up her spine at the thought. He had been adamant she chose what crystal she had been meant to destroy.

It seemed right, in whatever regard to pry one from the earth and to truly choose the means of her weapon now; she dare say the idea was cathartic. The pike that swung haphazardly at her hip was a cold and lifeless weapon, a tool nonetheless just as the Durin pistol anchored to her thigh but it reflected something empty. Something she could not wield readily in battle. She doubted the installment was facing a serious threat from the local fauna, though she armed herself. It was a principle. Though the arachnid population, evident by the pearly webs that had been scraped away from the walls. Were a nuisance surely, there would have been a battalion to secure this end of the galaxy and resources had the threat been great enough she mused.

The woman’s lip pressed into a thin frown as the relative peace was broken.

“You nor anyone was inclined to ask to be frank and it was two sabers,” Sybila corrected the man. Eyes scouring her skull as she rolled them, slowly in their march the woman’s hand deftly undid the holster at her hip as she produced a flare. She had been spared the likes of the Sith’s own academy by Irveric’s own work, alas she firmly believed you couldn’t protect anyone from anything. She had been destined-Sybila shook her head, jaw popping as she grinded her teeth. The acquisition of her previous blades, each one...”I’ve had six in total I believe.”

She ripped the cord violently, channeling something behind her limb as a hellish red light sprung from the cylinder to illuminate their path forward. Sybila held it aside, sparks spitting harmlessly off the container. As the tunnel barreled further downward, she joined Waymar’s side as they descended down.

“My longest serving blades though.. I was supplied with the means to construct my main saber,” Sybila uttered as she pried each word out, to say she was accustomed to speaking of and to him of all people; it was at best a necessity. They both knew who her Masters had been. This was what both parties at times were forced to abide by, he had got the shick job. Sybila pitied him and reviled him at different intervals. “Curved hilt, beskar-balastic weave grip, thirty five inches. I didn’t know the crystal. My second hand was in fact by right of the conquer. Around the time of Generis, a Sith Knight. Kah? Memory’s shoddy, she had been my handler too.”

“And of course don’t fret, you’re doing a fabulous job compared to her Paladin,” Sybila balked, slowing her pace as a current picked up over her shoulder; the stray hair stirred by the change of pressure. The woman paused, weighing the flare and without prompt she tossed the flare downward into the screen of darkness. Stalagmites reached for the cavers, revealed in the flare and crystalline pillars jutted out. All a brief glimpse, the red light burned and spat as it tumbled down the stone ahead and falling off into a grander cavern only to be swallowed by the void.

“Not the first chamber I believe..” she remarked idly, tilting her chin she glanced in the low light over to the Knight. “What of your blade hm?”

​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

boomer moment
lol

 

[Michael Barran]

1st post
THE_DRUID
THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD

Tags: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Waymar Dathrohan

PART ONE

Entrance, Crystal Cave,
Khoonda Plains, Dantooine (Summer of 874 ABY)

Nice weather today, fitting for an Imperator's homeworld.... A planet fit for a conqueror.​

Dantooine, a world of rising legends, a world that would continue to give power to it's legends long after their deaths, and towards none with anywhere near as much reverence as they bore towards the name,"Irveric Tavlar", and the glorious life he lived. Amongst the formerly-exiled/formerly-subjugated peoples of the Galidraani Free-State, the Empire's founder was dubbed,"The Third Father of the Galidraani Revolution", and a vast, overwhelming majority of those living on Galidraani soil still adhered to this view, transcending generations by the time Lord Michael landed his dropship just to the north of the cave site. The life of a supreme strategist, a warrior of the highest order, a hero in the most surprising of ways, began as a humble farmer on this world; then, from rags to riches, the military campaigns of Tavlar would capture even the hearts of the likes of the Wanderer's own.

Somehow, on this planet of all places, the greatest Imperial for centuries dreamt so intensely of life among the stars that it fuelled the most widely-renowned rise to power in recent centuries, completely defying his own fate every step of the way. Walking through history almost constantly for the last ten years before that day, the Druid (in his recent struggles with his own power) would find himself almost completely attuned to the memories of the worlds he wandered, alone or otherwise; sensing for himself the magic that gave rise to such heroes of Imperial history like he was living it in their time, fleeting and distant though these visions seemed to be here, Barran could still smile as he closed his eyes - seeing the hills around the valley in an entirely new light as his eyes opened with a slow, meditative exhalation.

It wasn't just the stars that fuelled such prestigious warfighting excellence in the following decades of his life, but the very world Irveric lived on too, as every field and hedgerow he saw around the farming community that raised him and others like him at the time, every hillock and mountain valley served as a catalyst for the indomitable will that held sway over young Tavlar - holding sway over everyone who ever swore allegiance to the true empire whilst it was still in it's infancy.

Still enough there t'sense though.... But on worlds where my father's been? Different story.​

Everything was in it's state of change since his first visit to Castle Dooku, but instead of trying to suppress it like he was in the first couple days of the power's silent bestowal, the Druid was embracing it, totally immersing himself in it's warmth as everything around him made more sense than it ever did before. In the eyes of those he hadn't seen in years, this would be a completely different Lord Michael to the one who walked Carannia's streets with uncertainty just five years before, and despite the joys this personal growth offered, the Woad remained ever mindful of this as the Galaxy's days passed him by. 'There always was something about this planet, a bit like Galidraan III that way.', Barran muttered to himself, completely unaware that others were already making their way deeper into the cave behind him, quite content in his solitary will to learn what he could in the warm, refreshing winds on the surface of Dantooine.

It took everything to tear his eyes away from the world outside, for the world within the mountain was ultimately more important to the Wanderer, as the famed planet of Dantooine had never been a world that Lord Michael ever had the honour of visiting before, though Barran had been gladdened (and since the small hours before breaking orbit) it was finally becoming an honour that would be fulfilled properly for as long as he could remain there. Crystal Cave would be no neglected exception for that matter, for there was much and more he wished to learn about the planet than it's greatest scion, and in learning more about the power of Adegan crystals along the way, the Druid knew this would certainly sate the ever-growing hunger for knowledge and truth for a while. Danger also lurked within, awaiting any slip-up to use against the unwary in any situation they deemed a moment of helplessness, dangers like the Kinrath - a cunning native species that still terrorised the wayfaring locals in 874 ABY.

Alright then, lets see what wonders the Adegan cave offers.​

'Ah, head protection. Of course.... Damn rocks are no joke either.'

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

ORDER OF THE IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
CHAPTER 'IRON CRUSADE'
ARMOR | SHIELD | LIGHTSABER
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Michael Barran

RED STAR​

“You nor anyone was inclined to ask to be frank and it was two sabers,”

"Six blades? So most of them were trophies then, yes. I've three others from Cloaks I've slain." He replied, speaking in his Galidraani Highborn accent if a bit warped from his time spent among the military class of the Empire. Elequence which was once there withered to time and worn by the need to abbreviate and bark out terms in the line of fire. A common use, once which he never had to adapt due to his own inflection was shortening 'sergeant' to 'sarnt', often only ever used by troopers from rural worlds, but it always amused him and how he'd taken similar 'shortcuts' in his own vocabulary. What was once 'Sith' or 'Dark Jedi' had been shortened to just 'Cloak', it was a short form of most any force user that wasn't apart of the Order of the Imperial Knights and a universal term in the Imperial Military.

“And of course don’t fret, you’re doing a fabulous job compared to her Paladin,”

"Hardly a reassurance. I know your records, Voi'kryt. You're hardly one to tangle with. Not many Imperials left from the Braxant Campaign still among the living, something to be said of that." He was still a thrall to the Sith at the onset of the Third Imperial Civil War, freed by the will of Rurik Fel himself on Korriban but two years into the bloody conflict. On one hand, he'd wished he was there, at Jygat or Harnaidan- but on the other, he knew from second-hand accounts how dogged and brutal the fighting was leading up to Bastion, a shadow of the Imperial Superpower forged in those flames.

It was still a bit further.

"My first? Depends if you mean as a Sith or as a Knight, the first as a Sith was forged as they typically were in the Academy of Korriban- still the blade I use now, I was oathsworn into the Order in the midst of war, around the time of the assault on Ziost. I merely went on with the ritual to pale the crystal and that was so. Speaking of- do you plan to do the same of yours? It is a ritual of the Knights but- I'm not ignorant to your preference of...going against the grain." He said candidly. Eventually, they delved deeper to catch up with a fellow countryman. His Galidraani III accent showed in spades immediately, just as he was confident his capital accent would pick up to Michael's ears. The man hardly brought an alarm to the Paladin, if he'd gone this far he would've been cleared to pass by the military presence at the mouth of the cave he all but assumed.

He hoped.

He bridged the first contact between the pair and the man.

"Wasn't aware there'd be anyone ahead of us- what's your business in the caves?" He asked outright, though seemingly imprinting little emotion in the inquiry.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Ex-Communicated
Order Of The Imperial Knights / Chapter 'Esoteric'
ARMOR/ DURIN / LIGHTSABER
Waymar Dathrohan Michael Barran

Centurion
​

"Six blades? So most of them were trophies then, yes. I've three others from Cloaks I've slain."

“I can see the appeal in seizing a trophy, it would be a waste and worst yet the wrong weapon in some foolish soldier’s hand if left to the scavengers. You would be described as accomplished for your own collection. However..not still not quite the case for any of my other previous blades,” Sybila interjected, the inflect of her voice overturned gravel. He carried himself like the echelon of Imperial illusion, her lips pressed into a thin frown. A drawn out noise surfaced from the woman without missing a beat, almost thoughtful in that regard as the conversation continued.

"Hardly a reassurance. I know your records, Voi'kryt. You're hardly one to tangle with. Not many Imperials left from the Braxant Campaign still among the living, something to be said of that."

“There are not many of us but there are enough,” the woman reasoned, the brutality of it all they had faced wasn't as monumental as reality proved it to be. Sybila turned her head, struck by the thought and she felt a sting, did this bother her? Her eyes raised as she found herself faltering over it. Seizing a deep breath, the woman inhaled before hefting her chin up and forward. The woman reminded her body to follow in suit to place another boot ahead of the other. Hearing it in retrospect, it was by militaristic standards respectable but she could not find the anomaly to be unique. “You know for a lot of us..we just..survived.”

It didn't make her any more dangerous then the next, the domination of the Sith doctrine to see out and the Imperial sort that persevered...She had never won a fight, only emerged alive at the other side. A lull followed, the shuffle of armor and the drip from condensation echoing down the tunnels further. Sybila craned her neck glancing back to the shining warrior himself, brows set together as she set upon Waymar a disdainful look.

“I find it terribly amusing you don’t know how to take a compliment do you? This is me trying to be amiable if you haven’t gathered, you could play along. After all all those horrors Rurik whispered about in regards to myself..well I promise I don’t grow claws or spit acid contrary to popular belief.”

Whatever he would have to say to that, she was damned either way. A hand, a heart, nor a life would surmise to be enough. Sybila knew better than to seek that worth or appraisal, thus so cut and dry was the Order that it weakened itself in other ways. Clearing her throat, Sybila listened partial to the research party at their back as the Paladin’s aristocratic draw filled the silence once more.

"My first? Depends if you mean as a Sith or as a Knight, the first as a Sith was forged as they typically were in the Academy of Korriban- still the blade I use now, I was oathsworn into the Order in the midst of war, around the time of the assault on Ziost. I merely went on with the ritual to pale the crystal and that was so. Speaking of- do you plan to do the same of yours? It is a ritual of the Knights but- I'm not ignorant to your preference of...going against the grain."

“I don’t differentiate. Now as for going against the grain..you describe me as if I was a singularity. Have you considered not every Knight is as zealous as you or Fel.” Sybila’s chuckle that followed was forced, she was bordering philosophy now. They may as well cracked open all topics of politics, policy, and religion. “I don’t have the patience to participate in rituals..and I think it would rob me of an opportunity. I don’t need what is to serve as an extension of myself, to be a blank slate, or paled as you call it. I will embrace whatever crystal is retrieved in it’s full capacity and master it. I should preface that I have no intention of bleeding it either before you assume the worst.”

The woman sucked in a deep breath, the oddity that drove her to such sociable lengths. The woman shook her head to herself, palm smoothing back stray hair from her vision as she continued to speak-

“That said…an original blade? I did not think the illustrious Paladin was subjected to the Academy...You seem far to clean cut for that. I am not ribbing you for the origin when I say that either. It is just unexpected…It must be a good saber. I know a wielder can foster a deep connection with their blade in time, creating a far more deadly weapon with years of experience plied in to it.”

She may have never faced the halls of the Sith’s debauched pit where their acolytes were forced to crawl out, bloodied and beaten-well there was a lot to be said to what had followed in her own escapades.

The woman did recall the shadow the Academy had sat in, in the valley of the Sith-and Korriban itself. It existed like a vivid but choppy painting, one of the few memories from that time she could recall. Waymar was no more a shining personage of the Order then she at the core of it, but she bite her tongue-there would be too many barbed words if she voiced that.

You were whatever you beguiled yourself as, she was no more guilty than any other. The woman assured herself, some rile tossing and churning in her chest over the notion as she tried to stamp it out. She was giving this man far to much of an olive branch-this would surely come to bite her in the arse later.

“Following your earlier comment. Two of my other sabers were gifts and the pike at my hip now was issued by the Imperial Knighthood of course, only one other had been by right of conquest. This butcher of a persona you might have of me, is skewed. It wasn’t even noteworthy. Out of them all I miss the third one, now that one-that had been given to me by a member of the Order in fact, I had it until Helgard’s disaster. A brilliant green blade, I am still sour it was never recovered…” the woman trailed off. A biter sort of sigh tore out of the woman as she leveled her gaze through the dim tunnels as Waymar pressed ahead. Irveric, he had entrusted it to her. Stirred from the past, the man's changed demeanor prompted her to cast her attention further in the unseen.

"Wasn't aware there'd be anyone ahead of us- what's your business in the caves?"

He was an ever faithful watchdog it seemed. Sybila lingered behind but a few steps, arms crossing before her cuirass as she flexed her jaw. Oh, the unsaid exclamation kissed the back of her clenched teeth, now this was becoming far too convenient to be true as she sensed along the fringes to be a familiar and..a variably but lofty presence. It hinted at a penned in sort of place in the force, hurried, but was something like mulled wine washing over the senses. Michael, that's who it was. He once again proved to be the exception and surprise.

“Lord Barran’s business-” the woman stressed as she announced the figure in the dark, voice cracking like a whip. There was something that bordered on humorous and telling about the Galidraani. But that was an afterthought, her mouth slacked then she picked back up before the epiphany swept her away. “-is either to show up fashionably late, or sniff out the next Kinrath nest by tripping into it surely. Hello again, Lord Barran.”

Sybila mused, stepping forward. She paired the etch of Waymar’s own accent to her..on occasion acquaintance’s. Her digits drummed against the ashen armor she stood encased in, echoing softly through the tunnel. She feared for her sanity in that moment, grumbling. One Galidraani was bad enough but even that felt half hearted and untrue-petty.

 

[Michael Barran]

2nd post
THE_DRUID
THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD

Tags: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Waymar Dathrohan

PART TWO

Entrance, Crystal Cave,
Khoonda Plains, Dantooine (Summer of 874 ABY)

Using the force in sporadic spells on his way in, Lord Michael had come to more than a few realisations as he walked further into the dim-lit darkness of the Crystal Cave.

Firstly, that his new growth in power made it easy to keep rocks from crushing his skull, and secondly, moving towards either of the side walls would both lessen the risk and give him a means of learning the history of the cave too; however, in the process of making contact with the cave wall, running his hand along it as he walked deeper into the cave beyond, the Druid would find that there were more realisations awaiting him. Besides the new, though resting presences at the cave entrance, (assumed to be guards or troopers of some sort) Barran could note the approach of two separate pairs of footsteps making their way in past the guards, feeling their presences as he calmly slowed to a halt for their sake. Boring the cave visit would be without them, and it seemed that the Wanderer was quite happy looking for good company in his endeavour of historically-driven curiosity, already identifying one of the two presences as Sybila's, and achieving this just moments after detection.

Quicker than before in that manner as well.... Interesting. All this from touching a wall, man.​

Taking his hardhat off and leaving it next to a tube-light on the ground by his feet, then lighting up a cigarette to smoke away to himself in his ponderings as he waited for the two powerful warriors to close the distance in their own time, Barran would enjoy the remaining silence for as long as it was expected to last, dwelling on Goidelic history for a moment as he walked through the very setting of another.

This entire process, of acclimating and learning what to do with the heightened physical senses and the nuances in his own Force-abilities, had been difficult to ascertain and remaster in the days leading up to his departure for Dantooine; but in the days leading up to the landing, a fair amount of what needed to be augmented was firmly back in the realm of clean, technical execution, though there was much and more yet to be discovered within himself yet as the Woad's time on the planet's surface progressed. Then, after the first few draws of his Dunwaller Silvers cigarette, the Wanderer had a vision, but one from a past his family had known many centuries before the 9th Century ABY, a past written only in the blood-genes passed down through every generation - that part deep-down that only remembers through the advice imparted by one's wizened, historically-savvy elders.

Like the very souls of such important moments in history still survived vicariously through the very stalwart descendants of those Barrans who lived, bled and endured through them.

An' which Sinn'Sear is this, ah wonder? An' why am ah bein' shown this, now, an' here of aw places?

That striking-form, though.... God-like, so it is!​

Then suddenly, from the bright, snowy pines of forests native to any one of the habitable human worlds in the Galaxy, the vision escaped him in a white flash that brought the Lord-Captain back to his place in the waking, lucid realms of the world's surface his boots were treading on. Forced to look around himself to be sure he hadn't gone wandering in his visions' haze, (once a factor as a youth, in visions of a contrastingly prophetic nature) a trained habit would have him notice the dark, shadowy entrances of the tunnels that connected more safely to the famed Adegan deposits further inside the giant, interconnecting caves of which all shared the same flowing series of exits in the same eastward direction. Stubbing out his near-finished cigarette soon later, Lord Michael then decided to delve further in ahead for a sneak peak at what everyone was obviously there for, walking through almost three minutes worth of tunnel before reaching the glowing, iridescent hue of the crystalline beauty beyond.

A wondrous sight to take in all to himself, though the Lord-Captain knew his superior officer and the other Force-user wouldn't be much longer, so Barran had no other choice but to keep track of the time spent in the glowing cave-network he'd read so much about already, holding to the intention of turning back and meeting them at the entryway into the tunnels at the first opportunity. Yet still, despite the only factor of concern showing no presence yet, the silent Woad would find himself making sure that none were following or poised to strike out at him, and much to the Wanderer's relief, not a single predatory presence could be detected for miles in all directions. Taking this as his sign to turn back, the Druid would cast one last wistful glance to himself, enjoying the quiet serenity of the moment to himself for a few seconds before embracing the shadows of the southern access-tunnel once more - allowing himself to let his newfound gifts do all the toiling again.

Pushing on with absolute confidence in his own safety, and doing so feeling completely assured of seeing not a single hidden Kinrath monster on his way at that, it wouldn't take very long for the Goidel to aid in closing the distance at this rate. And before he knew it, Lord Michael would hear the footfalls of the others in the tunnel, then a voice with a distinctly familiar accent rang out,'Wasn't aware there'd be anyone ahead of us- what's your business in the caves?', with every syllable bouncing off the walls of the tunnel itself towards him. And whether he had been of the Free-State or not, there was no doubt in Barran's mind that the man possessing such an aura would've felt the allure of life outside the Lord-Protector's wars, battles of a sort that was too particular, contrasting much too distantly to the doctrine that guided their battles in conventional theatres of war.

'Lord Barran's business-', the Major-General started, but in her revelatory introduction, paused briefly whilst Lord Michael took another moment to light another cigarette, acutely aware of the fact it was a poor means to calm the intensity of the effects such personal (and spiritual) growth was having on him by then. These sensations were still quite intoxicating, even psychotropic at times, but fortunately for the Druid, earlier habits and the means of controlling one's self were proving slightly more helpful than the cigarettes were, but Barran would always be one of those people who would take anything he could get that could aid him in his endeavours. Letting the amiable nature of the encounter flow with the conversation, Sybila would opt for a bantering approach as she concluded,'-is either to show up fashionably late, or sniff out the next Kinrath nest by tripping into it surely. Hello again, Lord Barran.', proving to be a wise choice, as it was a deft observation of Galidraani and Goidelic propensity for jokes and trading insults for fun.

Chuckling politely in response, Michael appreciated the quickness to jest, as it was proving to work wonders in further-endearing herself to the Knight and the Druid standing ready to protect her, and all the small increases in cohesion would certainly come in handy if any of the said Kinrath were to show up en masse. The Lord-Captain would consider this as he briefly mulled over the best wording for his reply over another couple of draws of his next cigarette, eventually retorting,'Oho! Looks like we'll be placin' bets with each other over footwork drills on the home-front then, Major-General! All bravado aside, that would be a good way t'keep sharp an' aw that.... An' hello again to you too, Lady Sybila. I would say it's great t'see ye but- well, not enough light t'see anything at this point.', and sticking to the light-hearted nature of the conversation between all three of them.

'I might as well lead us there, you'll see the glow when we curve that wee turn just ahead.... Oh, an' as for the Kinrath, we should be safe for now. None within any distance of concern, but I'll keep checking just to be sure. Can't ever be too careful with abominations like those, no matter how acutely a fellow like myself feels the urge to kill a few o' them while I'm here. Sneaky bastards, so they are. Beyond sneaky,'

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

ORDER OF THE IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
CHAPTER 'IRON CRUSADE'
ARMOR | SHIELD | LIGHTSABER
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Michael Barran

RED STAR​

“I find it terribly amusing you don’t know how to take a compliment do you? This is me trying to be amiable if you haven’t gathered, you could play along. After all all those horrors Rurik whispered about in regards to myself..well I promise I don’t grow claws or spit acid contrary to popular belief.”

"What exactly do you think was said about you?" He inquired. Rurik certainly gave him advisement of how to handle Lyra but the Emperor didn't seem worried of the chance she would be defiant to Waymar's presence or imposed mission to keep watch over her as she transitioned back into the ways of the Empire. Though it was hardly due to her capability and more so of leverage. The Imperial heirs, informally at least in Tavlar's children were well under Rurik's watchful eye and he knew that any deceit on her part toward him could lead to Rurik utilizing his leverage and that was hardly a risk Lyra was willing to take.

This was formality more than anything. The chance that she would go back unto the ways of the Sith and work to betray the Empire was hardly something he was grounded in to anticipate. She was there during the declaration of defiance, one of the few. There in Operation Kyber Dark, there in the Empire's rapid march of conquest.

"The paling of one's saber, to make an argent crystal from what it was previously is- well, it may serve to battle whatever sins you wage with from your days as Sith. That along with the Knight's training certainly did so for me...the transition wasn't easy, but it was fulfilling." He remarks, seemingly believing in merit of the esoteric ritual. He was a Knight of the Empire through and through. It wasn't a few moments later that his attention shifted to Barran, the man's identity peeled by Sybila to which Waymar offered a nod to the fellow Galidraani. The Woad accent immediately contrasting his highborn inflection in spite of the relative locality they both hailed from. Such was the dynamic of the Galidraani system, pock marked with different cultures, kingdoms and fiefdoms across the surfaces of its collective systems. To an untrained ear, they might sound across the Galaxy from one another.

'I might as well lead us there, you'll see the glow when we curve that wee turn just ahead.... Oh, an' as for the Kinrath, we should be safe for now. None within any distance of concern, but I'll keep checking just to be sure. Can't ever be too careful with abominations like those, no matter how acutely a fellow like myself feels the urge to kill a few o' them while I'm here. Sneaky bastards, so they are. Beyond sneaky,'

"Kinrath...nasty little bastards. Hardly a threat but inside this damned cave, I'd rather avoid them. On the foot-work, I would take you up on that, Lord Barran. It's only been since it fell under the Iron Son that I'd been back home. The Woads have a good bit to teach of blades-work." He remarked as the three continued, Waymar content himself to keep the interaction rather light-hearted as well. After all, there was hardly a weight or tension to their 'mission' or being here.

 

[Michael Barran]

3rd post
THE_DRUID
THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD

Tags: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Waymar Dathrohan Morrow

PART THREE

Crystal Cave,
Khoonda Plains, Dantooine (Summer of 874 ABY)

"Kinrath...nasty little bastards. Hardly a threat but inside this damned cave, I'd rather avoid them. On the foot-work, I would take you up on that, Lord Barran. It's only been since it fell under the Iron Son that I'd been back home. The Woads have a good bit to teach of blades-work."

He spoke well, offering another perspective in what was looking to be quite the potential punditry-pairing, but this wasn't what was bringing a smirk to the Druid's face in the dark, it was the accent. Barran knew it was from the south of Galidraan I, but couldn't quite place whether it was Bramberite or Calavaran yet, though Lord Michael could still tell what sort of settings the Paladin knew in his youth already. The Wanderer would continue to listen in silence, internalising his guess-work and the likes until the complementary competitiveness eventually broke through the wordless querying to then reveal a truth in which there would be some level of clarity needed on the Woad's part. A nice opening, a kindly opening from one with ears to listen and eyes to see, one which was graciously accepted in the moment he replied,'Come t'Serenno on yer next leave-pattern, we'll look after ye.... After all, that good bit to teach is something I have every intention of imparting. A recent tradition it might be, but a tradition it most certainly is still.', with bowing nod of respect from one lion to another.

'From Calavar to Carannia, excellence in swordsmanship will always have a home somewhere. An' wherever it may go, you'll always find a Goidel following close behind.... Not just a proverb, but a centuries-old fact I somehow forgot along the way - at least until now anyway.'

As his way of saying thanks, the Woad brought out his hipflask from his inner coat-pocket, tapping the Calavaran on the shoulder with it as they rounded the bend to see the glowing crystal chamber ahead, revealing the hipflask he was offering as the iridescent hues of interest bounced off the silvered brass encasing that contained the Wanderer's lifelong favourite whiskey.

This one might be worth knowing.... Much like Blackwood in that regard.​

From there, the trio would pick up their strolling pace a little more quickly, understanding that despite the ample time they had to see and make use of whatever they found suitable within the crystal chamber, none of the attending trio wished to be down there any longer than they needed to be. Dantooine was a beautiful planet, with a vast array of historic and civilian wonders to behold before they could even dream of leaving yet, so whatever they were all down there to learn or chip out from the ground or the cave-walls, all were expecting to be out and on their way to their accommodations before sundown at the latest. And though some would require the time more than others, all three knew there was always the likely chance they were missing out on the other real reasons for their visit to the same world, private though all their reasons appeared to be.

And yet, none of it would matter when they eventually exited the tunnel and let the magnitude of the room's mineral canopy take them aback for a time, none of it would matter for as long as they had a reason to bask in the sheer beauty of the seemingly different world they'd just walked their way into, blinking the sting of the focused light-intensity away as the Lord-Captain sat down with his back against a wide, deeply-sunken sandstone boulder, sparking up another cigarette and smoking a few draws in contented, awestruck silence.

Just as staggerin' t'see it the second time in the same day.... For that, I think I'll just be hittin' up a local Hookah bar the-night.​

However, in the moment he thought of asking the others if they knew of any such establishments, the Wanderer suddenly detected something, perhaps even someone approaching, completely forgetting a very important detail about his day in the process.

But then, just as he was still in the process of locking on to the force-signature, the same power he could feel near the entrance would, (as opposed to attempting to cloak themselves or to block out the Druid's attempt to locate him properly) and much to the Lord-Captain's great surprise, easily prove Michael's guesswork wrong. Inadvertently reminding the Woad the extent of his forgetfulness in such circumstances, the act of reaching out and meeting the telepathic frequency in the middle and linking with it, simple though it was, would inadvertently aid in recalling that his new acquaintance had every intention of visiting the caves that day as well. And topping it all off for Barran most of all, despite the random way in which the chance detection occurred, the one pairing telepathically with him was asking which tunnel led to the crystal chamber.

Tunnel on the left, Morrow. You'll see the glow soon enough, just mind your step with the rocks an' gravel at your feet.​

'Heh! Inbound friendly, I know this one.'

 

[Morrow]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Order Of The Imperial Knights / Chapter 'Graven Procession'
Khoonda Plains, Dantooine // Crystalline Chamber, Crystal Caves
Michael Barran | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Waymar Dathrohan

Tunnel on the left, Morrow. You'll see the glow soon enough, just mind your step with the rocks an' gravel at your feet.​

Telepathic inquiry produced adequate instruction. Though it had only been a few hours since Morrow's initial foray into the caves, the alien nature of subterranean hardscapes betrayed memorization. Fortunately, Barran wasn't much more than a mental whim away for correspondence. Boots shifted into a left turn, scraping gravel underfoot. Faint pearlescent glow grew more and more discernable as Morrow rounded the bend, eventually washing over the cave walls entirely before he'd even reached the mouth of the chamber.

Morrow strode in graceful and noiseless as a phantom. Nacreous glow of crystals gleamed against his already alien, pallid complexion, granting him the unfortunate appearance of a sickly thing not atypical to what one would expect to be skulking around a cave. Dour and grayscale, battle armor was veiled by a dark gray cloak only just light enough to be apparent within the dim light of the crystal chamber. Eerily still, he loitered for a moment just beyond the egress of the chamber before falling in with the group.

If Morrow felt any wonder for the sight of the Adegan crystals, he sure didn't show it.

"Hello again, Lord-Captain," he greeted politely, his voice a jarring contrast to his grim and disheveled figure. Gray eyes surveyed his company as he tucked a pair glareshades somewhere beneath his cloak. Recognition sparked in the first among them, "Knight Dathrohan," he acknowledged with neutral passivity. Subtle contempt flared in his nostrils and center of his brow as the second face clicked into memory. "Voi'kryt," Morrow expectorated with an air of plain loathing. Unspoken denigration lingered in the air, holding on for as long as possible for dissolving into a baited silence.

"Let us not hold overlong for any additional stragglers. A Kinrath interruption could prove markedly detrimental to the selection process, and as I understand it, prolonged forays make such encounters border on inevitability."