First Rebirth - Blank Slate

[Aran Na'Varro]

Ascension - Veritas Mountains, Alba region​

​

Deep under Ascension's mountain ridges, the constant bitter cold of the planet gave way to warmth. This deep cavern was in the bosom of the planet itself, warmed by a hearth of magma. Far under sea level it stretched, working its way through the rocky crust to such an extent that no light reached its depths from the surface. The cavern was not only warmed by magma, it was lit by it too. The rock walls and formations inside the vast expanse glowed a dull yellow, as if inflamed by some otherworldly power. Some might have said that the Force was at work here, but it was not. It was simply the forces of nature at play here, creating something truly beautiful far away from where sentient species would be inclined to look. Truly, only a few men of Ascension had seen this place. Only a few. Only the powerful and privileged.

In the deepest part of the cavern, through vast stone bridges and rampways, it was well and truly hot and muggy. The air was thick here, almost like soup and rich in carbon dioxide. Here the cavern opened up into a vast "cathedral", well illuminated by glowing yellow rocks, both on the wall and the floor. A giant glowing stalagmite lay in the centre, rising as high as the eye could see, towards the summit of the mountain which lay several thousand metres upward. Before it ... before it, there was a tank. A simple durasteel tank, connected via a cord to the stalagmite itself. But it was not pure durasteel. Facing outwards was a large window of glass, and behind that lay a sea of fluid and a man immersed in it.

The man was well-muscled and had a savage face, with a small scar over his left eye. Even though he was completely emotionless, his expression still looked mean and unwelcoming. If one took a closer look and had a somewhat decent knowledge of local history, they would see that he was Aran Na'Varro, long dead victim of the Varro Genocide. He was a famous historical figure locally, well-remembered every year during a public holiday that remembered his death. Aran Na'Varro was a name of legend in these parts, a rallying cry against Equit family politics and civil strife. He had a fair few dedicated supporters among the poorer community, and in the hundreds of years since his death his name became part of the lore of the planet itself. He wasn't just any man. So why was he here? And more importantly, how had he come back from a death almost a thousand years ago?

Hours before, a message had been sent from an unknown sender to the holopads of countless renowned individuals the galaxy over. It read:
"Greetings,

A Force-sensitive, long dead nobleman awaits a purpose. He is a blank slate, unaffected by any of his previous trials and tribulations. He has no real personality, and he has no memories ... all he has is his affinity for the Dark Side. And an all consuming desire to get things done.

Claim him. Give him a purpose.

Cordially,

The Dragon and the Wolf"

The tank lay dormant.

​

 

[Quietus]

"This is very unusual."

The Blackthorne cut a path through hyperspace, en route to the planet known as Ascension. Quietus sat in the pilot's chair of the cockpit reading over the history manifest of their destination, placid gaze lifting every so often as her assistant reappeared in the open doorway, his footsteps carrying him back and forth, back and forth, slowly, methodically, in the rhythm of a man who had come to know the complexities of the Force but at such a stretch found himself struggling to grasp them in his all too logical mind.

His voice nattered on, just barely audible for a human but perfectly clear to the ultra-sensitive ears of the woman. It droned on beyond her own thoughts and theories, but even now it wasn't those questions of who, what, when, and where that muddled her mind. She was more interested in the why.

Why had she, of all people, received this note?

Why had she bothered to give it any attention at all?

Why was she sitting in her ship, in hypserspace, on her way to this strange planet?

Beneath all the intrigue and the mystery, the guiding force was nothing more than curiosity backed by a very unhealthy dose of boredom. Sometimes you just needed to get away - what better than to dive, head first, into the unknown? That was how she lived through the lonely, dark ages of the Gulag, and she'd be lying to herself if she said it hadn't been fun.

Yet still, despite it all, as The Blackthorne pulled out of hyperspace and the streaming lines of stars drew to a still and twinkling blanket backdrop of her viewport within which the planet named Ascension hung suspended, the words of her assistant echoed.

This is very unusual.

 

[courageisthekey]

The message was obviously meant for someone else. But when the terminal next to me gave a little 'beep', I had to look. Just had to open the messaging system a previous user had left dangerously open. What I read was utterly confusing... Who lay dormant? Who was the Dragon, and who was the Wolf? More importantly.... who was meant to receive this semi-ominous message? By the time I had arrived at the library's computer lab, no one else was using any of the terminals. Hell, no one was anywhere near the area. Had I walked in on what was supposed to be a private meeting, the real recipient hiding from me? Perhaps. It didn't feel like that though. Felt more like the start of a bad holofilm to be honest.​

My curiosity was piqued nonetheless.​

​

Looking around me I made sure no one was looking. With that done I copied the message, added it onto my thumb drive (which was much, much smaller than a thumb) and started to leave the room. That's when I remembered I had left my own things open. Most people wouldn't find articles on insane asylums very interesting... so I closed those rather quickly. To make it seem like I was a simple, clumsy kid, I left open a popular gaming site. The words 'GAME OVER' covered most of the screen. Something about it was chilling... unpleasant, despite the fact that I had made it pretty far through the game before losing. Hopefully it was not a sign of what was to come.​

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----------SEVERAL HOURS LATER----------​

Circe had been notified of my temporary leave. As far as she knew I was simply exploring a few planets, learning more about the galaxy. In all reality I was chasing shadows, attempting to locate the source of the mysterious message. That led me to Ascension. Somewhere here was a man who sounded... important, for some reason. Only one other accompanied me, an employee of Savan's who seemed to have a bit of a crush on me. I didn't like it, but I was going to use her feelings to my advantage. Both now and in the future. Manipulation was such a bitter-sweet thing. It was Nira's voice that called me out of my thoughts.​

"We have arrived, Milady." Her voice was rather soothing, to be honest. Mine always seemed so harsh in comparison. Not that I minded. "Prepare the shuttle for landing. We will search the planet as soon as possible." Nira nodded, smiled, and did as asked. She was a competent woman, that was for sure. Understandably, I still wondered about how useful she'd really end up being. Perhaps I'd reward her if she did good on this mission. Biting down on my lower lip I wondered, watching through the glass as we started the descent...​

@[member="Quietus"] @[member="Aran Na'Varro"]
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[Aran Na'Varro]

There was just the tank. The outside world did not exist yet, just the memories and imprints of the Father-voices. Inside the still fluid of the tank, the man inside swam in a deeper level of unconsciousness. He was taught what species he was ... he was taught of what it meant to be one of his people. He learned of Ascension, of his culture, of the goings-on of the galaxy at large, of history, of struggle, of war, of death. However, of himself he knew nothing. Not even a name, would the Father-voices grant him. He was detached, not in control or even conscious of his existence. He was a blank slate with a world of knowledge, none of it useful to him yet.

He knew of the Force too, but he could not use its secrets. Not yet. That would be learned later. So much to be learned.

Perhaps he would be released soon.

@[member="Vanessa Nacht Seele"] @[member="Quietus"]

 

[Quietus]

Suspended in space, the Blackthorne hung in orbit over Ascension. With next to no helpful information contained in the note, Quietus was left to her own devices of tracking down this sleeping anomaly. Her ship was not equipped with planetary scanners but the Force Master had little use for technology. Her mind and her will were her tools and she employed them now, deep within a Force Meditation.

The Master's mind traveled across the horizon of Ascension along the current of the Force. Probing pockets of energy and seeking out springs of power. The planet had it's collective of Force Users, just as most did, but it seemed to lack any notable presences. Signature spikes of particulars could be sensed, but beyond that there was hardly cause for further examination. It took a long time to learn how to pick the extraordinary out of the mundane, but time was very much on her side. It always had been.

As her subconscious spread across the landscape to the south, it picked up a curious trail. Strange thing about the Force, no matter how much time has passed, is the powerful and unique always left a mark.

The woman's eyes opened to her associate, Darth Volden, and her mind immediately relayed their destination: a mountain range in the Alba region. Without a word he set their course and descended upon the planet and the peaks of the Veritas Mountains.

@[member="Aran Na'Varro"] | @[member="Vanessa Nacht Seele"]