First Reply Guidance Across The Galaxy

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Freeport Club, Seven Corners, Denon
​

The smell had improved since the last time he was here.

Okkeus lounged back in the stained leather seat of the club. Musicians nearby were playing a jazzy tune in Huttese while exotic dancers tried to seduce the drunken patrons. Off in the corner was a high-stakes game of Sabaac, with a Rodian on the verge of losing everything they owned. These were all normal sights when visiting Denon, especially in the Freeport Club. But the aging spacer was not here to partake in those glamorous pastimes. He was here for a much different purpose entirely. A perk of having a Black Tier pass for the lounge was being granted immediate access to any goods sellers that may be set up for the day. But it also allowed you to sell goods of your own, no questions asked. So that is exactly what the man came here to do.

Following in the footsteps of Jorus Q. Merrill with Baobab Astrography, Okkeus had spent the last year charting out new hyperspace routes, discovering lost planets, and documenting anomalies within the stars. It was something that he enjoyed doing quite a lot, so he wanted to share his discoveries with others. The galaxies were meant to be explored after all. So, sitting right next to him was a bag filled with various starmaps and datachips, all with information that any traveler would be able to find useful. A directory was listed within the club of who was who, and what services they would be selling today. It would only be a matter of time before someone approached seeking the information he was providing.

Taking a drink from his Jet Juice, the man returned it to the table. He was not here in hopes to make tens of thousands of credits for himself, but rather to help out his fellow spacers. The galaxy could use more people that were here for each other. War had changed people, that was for sure. But here, in Denon, he could escape it all for a few hours.

Credit to Daiya for the Seven Corners and Jend-Ro Quill for the Freeport Club​

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Freeport Club, Seven Corners, Denon
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Okkeus Dainlei

The lights of Denon's perpetual neon haze flickered across Reicher Vax's dark visor as he stepped into the Freeport Club. The sights and sounds of decadence greeted him immediately—Huttese jazz wailed from the stage, the murmur of gamblers and drunkards blended into a chaotic melody, and the faint scent of spice lingered in the air. It was a world far removed from the rigid discipline of the Sith Legion and the grim halls of the Empire.

For once, he wasn't here to enforce or fight. He wasn't even here on orders. He was here because of a rumor—a whisper about a man charting the stars, sharing the knowledge of forgotten routes and hidden anomalies. Knowledge like that could reignite something the Sith had long forgotten: curiosity, exploration, and maybe even hope.

Reicher had read about the old days when Sith and Jedi alike sought to understand the galaxy, when their conflicts were more than just a trail of blood and fire. If the Legion was to survive, if the Sith Empire was to ever rebuild itself into something meaningful, it needed to dream again. And for that, Reicher needed maps.

He moved through the lounge with deliberate steps, his armored presence drawing wary glances and hushed whispers. Most patrons likely mistook him for a bounty hunter or mercenary, his Sith markings obscured by a hooded cloak draped over his black armor. The crimson glow of his visor dimmed, but not enough to erase the unmistakable aura of someone who didn't belong.

The club's directory listed a name that matched the rumor: Okkeus, a spacer with starmaps and datachips for sale, set up near the back. Reicher's boots echoed softly against the floor as he navigated the tables and dancers, careful not to draw more attention than necessary. He passed a particularly rowdy Sabaac table, sidestepping a drunk Rodian gesturing wildly, and finally spotted his target.

Okkeus sat lounging in a worn leather chair, his demeanor relaxed as he nursed a drink. A bag rested beside him, its contents carefully hidden but unmistakably the prize Reicher sought. The man seemed approachable, exuding the calm of someone who lived to help others rather than exploit them. It was refreshing, if not slightly alien, to Reicher.

Approaching the table, Reicher stopped a respectful distance away, his shadow falling over the spacer. "You're the one selling maps," he said, his voice low and slightly modulated through his helmet.

​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Reicher Vax
​

His eyes followed the newcomer as they approached the table.

The armor-clad figure was tall, blocking the nearby neon stage from his view. Okkeus could tell right away that they were military. Not everyone held such a formal posture within the club, especially on a planet like Denon. But what faction they aligned with was still a mystery. Nevertheless, they seemed interested enough in the wares he offered. Perhaps the man had something more to offer than just credits. Credits were not the only currency around here. Information, locations, stories, all things of value to the right person.

A slightly warbled voice spoke from underneath the helmet, prompting about the maps the spacer had. It felt more like a statement than a question, but the intention did not seem misleading. Okkeus brushed it off as academy training. If the person was military, after all.

"For the right price, yes."

Okkeus decided to uphold his front for now as a hard selling businessman. People all too often took kindness for granted these days. Not everything had to be sunshine and rainbows, but respect went a long way. Waving his hand towards the chair opposite of where he sat, the spacer offered the seat for the newcomer. Afterwards he gave a soft whistle to the server to come towards their table.

"Get yourself a drink. We might be here for a while."

Finishing off the rest of his glass, he would make sure to order another when the server returned. Part of this play was to get the stranger to remove their helmet. When you travel all across the galaxy, you start to become good at reading people off of their expressions. Helmets conflicted with this process for sure, but it was still a nice trick to pick up on.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Freeport Club, Seven Corners, Denon
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Okkeus Dainlei

Reicher hesitated for a moment, his visor fixed on the offered chair. The spacer's demeanor was casual, almost too casual for someone operating in a place where danger lurked in every shadow. Okkeus had a confidence that spoke of experience, the kind that made Reicher wary. Yet, he also recognized the spacer's intent—this was not a man looking to exploit but rather one who measured respect in gestures, not just credits.

Finally, Reicher inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, the faintest flicker of a nod, and eased into the chair. His movements were deliberate, his armor emitting faint mechanical sounds as he settled into place. As a sign of respect, he moved his cloak slightly to reveal his Vibroblade, so that Okkeus could know he was willing to parley. The server arrived just as he did, glancing nervously between the spacer and the imposing figure now seated across from him.

"Water, bottled for later if possible." Reicher said curtly, his voice modulated but calm. The server gave a quick nod and hurried off to fulfill the request.

Leaning forward slightly, Reicher rested his arms on the table, his gloved hands loosely clasped. The crimson glow of his visor softened, though his face remained obscured by the helmet. His posture, though disciplined, was less confrontational than before.

Reicher leaned forward slightly, his armored bulk pressing into the chair as he rested his forearms on the table. The movement was calculated—neither overly aggressive nor entirely disarming. His helmet tilted just enough to meet Okkeus's gaze directly, the crimson glow of the visor dimming slightly, this gave enough room to where the crest of the Sith Empire could be made out, stirring itself in the shadows as a dark, ominous undertone of the current situation.

"How did you lose the arm?" Reicher asked in a direct, but more casual tone.

​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Reicher Vax
​

A simple nod was offered back as the stranger took a seat.

There was a...weight to their movements. The man could not tell yet if it was because of the armor, or something more mechanical. Too much was still unknown at this time. But what was recognized was the vibroblade that sat clipped to their side. Smart, the spacer thought. You would be a fool to walk around this planet without some sort of protection. Okkeus kept his lightsaber concealed for now. For one, the general attitude of Jedi around here was still not the best. While the Galactic Alliance may be in control, it was the people who still ran the streets. Secondly, a commotion within the club could spell disaster for the two of them. Business was king here, and nothing was going to disturb that within the building, no matter who's side you were on.

Following the deliberate movements of the stranger once more, the man watched as they seemed to relax their tension of this meeting. Not in a way that showed they let their guard down, but more so that they were willing to engage in this conversation instead of prompting about the maps right away. Okkeus offered a light chuckle at the question, reminiscing.

"The first time or the second time?"

He was still a boy when his real arm was cut off for the first time. His former Sith master, Darth Tesir, made an example of his weakness. It was a memory that still haunted his sleep every now and then. The second time was when he was battling against a friend. Okkeus had fallen away from the lightside of the Force at the time. Losing his cybernetic arm was the first step in many to returning to the Jedi way.

"Let's just say it's not smart to mess with a Sith, or a Jedi."

Turning back towards the lounge area, he watched as the server returned with the ordered drinks. A smile of thanks was offered as the beverages were placed on the table in front of the men. The server scurried away once more, tending to other patrons.

"So, you got a name?"

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Freeport Club, Seven Corners, Denon
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Okkeus Dainlei

Reicher let the question linger in the air for a moment. His hand finally reached for the bottle of water, lifting it as a gesture, than depositing it in some shadowy pocket in his armor. The glow of his visor dimmed further, casting his shadowed face into obscurity.

He leaned forward slightly, the weight of his gaze unchanging. "Reicher Vax," he said evenly, his voice still filtered through the modulator. "A name doesn't mean much these days. But it's what I was given, and it'll do."

His crimson visor shifted subtly, as though scanning Okkeus. "I take it you've had your fair share of close calls," Reicher added, his tone carrying a faint edge of understanding. "You're not just a spacer with a bag of maps. That much is obvious. And if you've crossed paths with both Sith and Jedi, you've seen the galaxy's edges in ways most can't even imagine and trust me, Sith are a pain in the ass."

He gestured faintly toward Okkeus's concealed arm. "Whatever brought you here, whatever gave you the scars, it taught you how to survive. That's a skill more valuable than credits in a place like this." He stated in a complimentary tone.

Reicher leaned back in his chair, letting the weight of his words settle between them. His posture was relaxed, but his presence remained imposing—calculated, as though every movement, every word, was part of a larger strategy. The crimson glow of his visor dimmed further, giving him the air of someone deliberately stepping out of the spotlight to better observe.

He leaned forward again, the faint sound of his armor creaking with the movement. His modulated voice dropped to a lower, almost conspiratorial tone. "Those maps you're selling—those routes, anomalies, forgotten pathways—they're more than just coordinates. They're possibilities. They're the chance to step beyond the chaos, to find places where competition is limited. Places where the galaxy's true potential might still exist."

He reached into a compartment on his belt, producing a small data chip, and placed it on the table between them, the emblem of the Sith Empire now shun itself on the data chip, but it was not mired with dust or use, it was clean, presenting itself as new, full of potential. "This has access to a secure fund. It's not a fortune, but it's enough to show I'm serious. Credits are easy to replace. Knowledge isn't. And trust..." He let the word hang in the air for a moment, his tone sharpening slightly. "Trust is earned."

​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Reicher Vax
​

"Well, for what it's worth, names still mean quite a bit to me. Mine's Okkeus by the way, Okkeus Dainlei."

The modulated voice of the man spoke about his position here in the galaxy. Tales and stories in which he could have experienced could fill entire books worth of knowledge. He had been to the other side of the universe and back multiple times. Countless wonders that would amaze thousands, and horrors that would make the bravest of men hide underneath their blankets. Empires and dynasties rise and fall. The history was endless.

"These troubles and victories that we endure shape us into who we are today. Some of us learn to survive by choice. Others, because there are no other options."

What Reicher was saying is true. He was more than just a spacer with a bag of maps, even if that is what he tried to present himself as. He was a Jedi, a Sith, a smuggler, a lord, an Imperial knight, a traitor, a warrior, a husband, and a father. And now, he was just a simple man, trying to make his way in the universe.

His eyes followed the data chip as it was set on the table. The Sith Empire emblem now visible underneath the neon glow. All of these possibilities that the man spoke of, they could be used to bring a greater evil to the galaxy. But there was a chance for there to be good. The line between dark and light became more obscure by the day. Jedi who he called friends have been accused of committing crimes of war against innocent people. Accusations that he wished were false. He had also seen Sith rise up together to face off against threats far greater than any military he knew, all in an effort to protect the people of the Mid Rim. Good and evil was not so easily defined anymore.

"Trust does go a long way, especially in this part of the galaxy. I know the power that some of these coordinates hold. It's a power that I know can change lives of millions, if not billions, of people. I do believe you to be a true businessman, Reicher Vax."

A small drink of his beverage was taken as the spacer collected his thoughts.

"While credits are valuable to me, I believe knowledge is just as valuable too. A price that may reflect the maps that you are after. So, Mr. Vax, where in the galaxy do you want to go?"

With that, Okkeus slowly opened up his bag, revealing a plethora of star maps, data chips, Jedi Compasses, ancient writings, a few small scrolls, Sith Wayfinders. Coordinates that could take you anywhere in the galaxy...and beyond.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Freeport Club, Seven Corners, Denon
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Okkeus Dainlei

Reicher's visor glinted faintly under the neon haze as Okkeus opened his bag, revealing a treasure trove of maps, compasses, and relics of ancient knowledge. The Sith Wayfinders caught his attention briefly, their ominous shapes emanating a faint, almost imperceptible hum of dark energy. Yet, it was not the dark allure of power that he sought. It was something deeper, something far more enduring.

The Sith Legionnaire leaned forward, his voice softening slightly, the modulation no longer sharp but almost contemplative. "I'll be honest, Okkeus. I don't know exactly where I want to go. Not in the way most might answer that question. I don't have a specific set of coordinates in mind, no ancient treasure to unearth, no long-lost fleet to uncover. What I'm after is something far less tangible, but infinitely more valuable."

He gestured toward the open bag, the relics and star charts within. "What you have here… it's more than a collection of maps. It's a gateway to the unknown. A chance to rekindle what the galaxy has lost: a spirit of discovery, of unity, of purpose. That's what the Sith Empire needs. That's what the Sith Legion needs."

Reicher's hands rested on the edge of the table, his posture firm but no longer intimidating. "The Empire isn't what it used to be. The Sith Lords squabble over scraps of power, tearing apart everything we've built in the name of their petty ambitions. The people are left to suffer while the galaxy watches us self-destruct. The Sith Legion has endured, but we're fighting battles we shouldn't have to fight—against our own leaders, against ourselves."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "The Sith were meant to be more than this. More than conquerors, more than tyrants. We were meant to shape the galaxy, to guide it toward strength, order, and enlightenment. But we've lost our way. That's why I need your maps, your knowledge. Not to exploit them, not to claim them as weapons, but to inspire a new path forward."

Reicher's voice grew firmer, more resolute. "Imagine what it would mean to the people of the Empire to see something more than destruction and chaos. To see their leaders—Sith, soldiers, and civilians alike—united by a vision of exploration, of rediscovery. To show them that we are more than warriors, that we are builders, dreamers, and seekers of the truth."

He leaned back slightly, the faint glow of his visor catching Okkeus's gaze. "That's what I want to bring back to the Empire. A reason to believe. A reason to hope. And maybe, just maybe, a reason to stop fighting among ourselves."

Reicher gestured to the bag again, his voice quieter now, almost introspective. "I don't expect you to trust me outright. Sith aren't known for their sincerity. But I'm not here for power, Okkeus. I'm here because the galaxy can't afford for us to keep tearing it apart. Help me show the Sith Empire that there's more to fight for than their petty grudges. Help me give them a future worth uniting for."

​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Reicher Vax
​

"Discovery...unity...purpose..."

The words that Reicher spoke were repeated underneath the spacer's breath. There was once a time in which he witnessed all of these. A time in which conflict was rare, and peace was abundant. Stories as well that were before his time, told to him at night by his mother and father. He only wished that he could have experienced it more in his life than the constant war that stained the galaxy today.

"I've seen all different factions of Sith from across the stars. The Empires, the Orders, the Warlords of the Tingel Arm. Each with a promise of establishing peace. Whether that peace was through violence or not varied."

He let his words hang in the air momentarily, allowing the weight of them to settle. Okkeus was still trying to figure out the true purpose of the man. While he spoke of promises that would entice anyone, this was still dangerous information that the spacer possessed. The Sith man said it himself - trust is earned. He hoped that if he could figure out more about the man, then maybe his story would soon be revealed.

"From what you speak of, perhaps somewhere in Wild Space would suit you and your people best."

The man's tone shifted ever so slightly. What was once fun and laid back now had a sense of serious to it that he had not presented before.

"Have you ever known a life without war, Reicher? Were you someone who was born into the battle of Light vs. Dark? Because I was...and I need to make sure I'm not leading anyone else into this life. Directly or not."

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Freeport Club, Seven Corners, Denon
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Okkeus Dainlei

Reicher's posture shifted slightly, his hands resting on the edge of the table as he processed Okkeus's words. The hum of the Freeport Club's background chatter, the muffled music, and the low intrusions of distant shouts filled the pause between them. For a moment, the armored soldier seemed to weigh not just his response, but the weight of his own memories.

"A life without war?" he repeated, his voice modulated but carrying an undertone of quiet reflection. "No. I can't say I have. The closest I've come to peace was as a child, before the galaxy decided otherwise. My home was raided by pirates, my family killed before I could understand what that loss meant. I was saved—if you can call it that—by the Sith Legion. They trained me, gave me a purpose. From that point on, war was my only reality. A blaster and a sword were all I had, and they've served me well."

He gestured broadly, as if encompassing not just Freeport Club but the galaxy beyond. "You say you want to avoid leading others into the life you've known, and I respect that. It's noble. But let me ask you this: Is it war itself that's the problem? Or is it the kind of war we've allowed ourselves to fight?"

Reicher's voice sharpened slightly, not out of anger, but conviction. "The battles we see today, the ones I've fought for most of my life, aren't wars for survival or progress. They're petty skirmishes, born out of pride, ambition, and greed. They don't build anything; they only destroy. That's what I want to change. I don't seek peace for its own sake—I know better than to believe the galaxy will ever truly be free of conflict. But if we must fight, let it be for something greater than our own egos."

He leaned forward again, his crimson visor reflecting the flickering lights of the docking bay. "The Sith Legion's Old Guard isn't like the rest of the Empire. We've seen firsthand what happens when ambition outweighs purpose, when power is pursued for its own sake. That's why we've taken steps to change—to focus on structure, on discipline, on something more enduring than the fleeting victories of the Sith Lords who come and go like shadows. We don't want to be another cog in the machine of chaos."

Reicher paused, his tone softening just enough to reveal a sliver of vulnerability. "You ask if I was born into this battle between Light and Dark. I was. But I didn't choose it. What I choose now is to take what I've learned from this life and use it to create something better. Not just for myself or my men, but for those who come after us. If that means venturing into Wild Space, carving out a new destiny far from the endless wars of the galaxy, so be it."

He rested his hands on the table, the hard edges of his armor catching the light. "I'm not asking you to trust me blindly. But I am asking you to see this for what it is—not another Sith trying to claim territory, but a soldier trying to end a war that's been fought for too long with no purpose. Help me chart this course, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure it's not just another excuse for more bloodshed."

Reicher's voice grew quieter, almost solemn. "Because if we can't find a better way out there, Okkeus, then maybe this galaxy doesn't deserve peace at all."

​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Reicher Vax
​

The words Reicher spoke were carefully processed by the spacer.

Okkeus was taken aback for a moment when he learned that the man's family was killed by pirates too. He was still a boy when both of his parents were killed. It was a memory that was not easy to overcome. His savior came in the form of a Jedi - one that took him on as his padawan. But it was not long after that his Master was defeated by a Sith warrior. The dark knight used the dark side of the Force to corrupt the mind the boy, turning him into a student of the darkness.

Taking a moment to ponder the question that the man presented, Okkeus spoke with a wisdom born out of blood.

"I'm glad that you realized how senseless these wars are. It took me many years, and many deaths, to see it myself. There was a time that I truly believed in what we were doing. That we were peacekeepers. But that time has since passed."

If Reicher had not picked up on it now, the spacer was slowly revealing his upbringing as a Jedi Knight. He still aligned himself with the light side of the Force and fought for what was right. The wars though...he did not know if there would be a day he could ever return. Horrors that plague him to this day occurred. It turned him into the defensive and more secluded man that he was today.

"Your intentions seem true, Reicher. You have a deep care for your people and want what is best for them. That is something that I respect."

Reaching down into his collection of star maps, the man pulled out a medium-sized disc. Laying it in the middle of the table, he turned it on, its blue light illuminating the two men. A map of the main galaxy glowed to life. Different hues of color were shaded to represent the major powers and where their domain was. One the side closest to Reicher was a red hue, representing the Sith Order. Positioned directly to the right of that hue was a patch of grey: Wild Space.

"What you're looking at there is 'prime real estate.' Also known as Wild Space. A few years back the Mandalorians of the Enclave, along with the Hutts, called this place home. Their sphere of influence dominated the region for a long time. Now? They have shrunk, only controlling a small handful of planets. If you want a place to escape and bring peace to your people, this is it."

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Freeport Club, Seven Corners, Denon
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Okkeus Dainlei

​

Reicher stood still as the holographic map flared to life, its cool blue light casting faint shadows across his armored form. The illuminated galaxy sprawled before them like a battlefield frozen in time—regions painted in stark, territorial hues that represented decades of bloodshed, conquest, and shifting powers. The red haze of Sith influence stood bold and domineering, a scar on the map's surface. And there, just beyond its edge, lay the promise of something else: Wild Space. Untamed. Unclaimed. Untouched.

For a moment, he let the silence linger, his crimson visor fixed on the grey expanse that Okkeus had revealed. His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the table, a gesture of calculated thought, his mind already working through the possibilities and risks.

"Wild Space," he repeated softly, the words holding a weight of their own. "A frontier of unknowns. Lawless, full of danger and finally the charts to provide a light through the darkness." He tilted his head slightly, his tone shifting to one of dry resolve. "This will do."

Reicher gestured toward the red Sith territory on the map, his voice gaining a sharper edge. "What you see here is stagnation. These borders—this endless fight for supremacy—it's a cycle, and every power caught in it bleeds itself dry. Wild Space offers an escape from that, yes, but more than that, it offers a chance to build. To take the lessons of war and transform them into something lasting. Order, structure, a future worth protecting."

Reicher's hand fell to his side as he stood tall, the faint hum of his armor blending with the background murmur of the Freeport Club. His voice dropped to a quieter, almost reflective tone. "I won't lie to you, Okkeus. This won't be clean or simple. Others will see our presence in Wild Space as a threat, and they'll challenge us. The Sith Order will see it as disloyalty. The GA as expansionism. The scavengers, pirates, and warlords who infest the void won't go quietly. I would wish for peaceful expeditions, but the more I study it the more I realize the risks."

"Name your price."​

​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Reicher Vax
​

From behind the helmet, Okkeus could tell that he caught the man's attention.

His helmet leaned forward ever so slightly, taking a look at the map he had produced. Not many people carried holomaps on themselves these days, especially ones of the entire galaxy. But there were perks to doing so. Finishing off his drink, he set the glass back down onto the table, returning to business.

"That is the unfortunate problem of our stars. Too much fighting. I agree with your dreams of once again seeing a peaceful galaxy where we can all work together, but I don't know if it will occur in our lifetime. One must only hope."

Reaching back into his bag, the spacer produced a small datachip. Contained within it was the directions to the Cranan-Excarga Route. A small, and quite unknown, hyperlane that had never seen much use. A few months ago, Okkeus travelled the route himself while visiting his home on Tatooine. The route itself came from an old book he had obtained. Along the path were a few different systems, each with a handful of planets. This would be the perfect start for Reicher's dream of the Sith.

"While I understand that you are hoping to create a more peaceful, unified Sith Order, I do know that they are still actively at war with the Alliance. For the first part of price, I want safe passage through their territory. No unexpected patrol stops, no boardings, nothing. But I only ask for my ships and my ships alone - no other Alliance vessels."

Okkeus paused for a moment, letting his request hang in the air.

"For the next part, I want access to the ancient Sith libraires that are housed within your worlds. I wish to expand my starmaps even more. If you have not already guessed, I love charting the galaxy, and I wish to continue doing so."

This request was a larger one than the first, but still he hoped it would be manageable.

"And finally, I want a story from you about your life. Anything you so choose. Let me know more about you, Reicher, so that I may say I knew the man who helped life the Sith into a new age."

Spoiler

Sorry for the slow replies. I am away from my computer right now, so I'm mobile posting. I will get to my next reply as soon as I can.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Freeport Club, Seven Corners, Denon
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Okkeus Dainlei

​

Reicher leaned back slightly, the crimson glow of his visor catching the faint flicker of light from the holomap between them. Okkeus's requests hung in the air, and for a moment, the Sith soldier didn't respond, letting the storm of thought churn behind the facade of his helmet.

Finally, he inclined his head, his voice calm and deliberate. "You ask much, Okkeus, but not without reason. Your terms deserve due consideration."

His gaze fell to the datachip on the table, the faint gleam of its edge catching his attention. He gestured to it but didn't move to take it. "Safe passage for your ships is manageable. My influence within the Empire's fragmented forces isn't limitless, but the Old Guard holds sway in key sectors. I can guarantee that your vessels will move unchallenged through the regions I control. Beyond that, I can negotiate with my counterparts to ensure minimal interference. But understand this: the Sith are not monolithic. There are those who revel in chaos, and I cannot account for every zealot who crosses your path."

He straightened, his hands resting on the edge of the table. "As for the libraries… that is a more complicated request. The knowledge contained within is ancient, dangerous, and often guarded by those who see it as their lifeblood. Gaining access will require trust—something neither you nor I can grant lightly. However…" He paused, considering his next words. "I will grant you entry to the archives under my jurisdiction and grant you my full support in obtaining information from libraries under Tsis'Kaar control. These texts and maps may not encompass the full breadth of what the Sith hold, but they will be enough to expand your understanding—and perhaps prove your sincerity."

Reicher leaned forward slightly, the visor tilting to meet Okkeus's gaze. "And as for your final request… a story." His tone softened, not in warmth but in thoughtfulness, as if sifting through the weight of memories. "I've told few, if any, about my life before the Legion. But I will honor your request. Not because I owe you, but because I see value in understanding."

He exhaled, the faint hum of his armor's respirator breaking the silence. "I was born on Polis Massa. A desolate asteroid colony, known more for its mineral wealth than its inhabitants. My family were laborers, simple folk who wanted nothing more than a quiet life. But the galaxy, as you well know, doesn't reward simplicity."

He leaned back again, his tone hardening as the memory took shape. "Pirates raided the colony. They weren't after credits or resources—they wanted chaos. They slaughtered indiscriminately, burned homes, and left survivors to starve in the vacuum. I was young, but old enough to remember the screams. Old enough to watch my parents die."

The crimson visor turned slightly toward the distant wall, as if seeing something far beyond the room. "I was rescued by a Sith patrol—a chance encounter. They brought me to Hoth, where I was placed in an orphanage run by the Legion. It wasn't mercy; it was pragmatism. Children like me became recruits, shaped by loss and molded into tools for the Empire. I excelled. Not because I was the strongest or fastest, but because I refused to let myself break."

He returned his gaze to Okkeus. "The Legion gave me purpose. Discipline. But it also showed me the flaws of the Sith. Their power is boundless, but their lack of unity is their greatest weakness. I have survived not because of the Sith, but despite them. And now I see a chance to change that."

Reicher placed his helmet back on the table, its crimson glow dimming slightly as he gestured toward the datachip. "You asked for a story. That is mine. A life shaped by chaos, now devoted to finding order. If you truly wish to see the Sith rise into something greater, then we have common ground. And if this route you offer can help us carve that path, then perhaps your requests can be met."

He extended a gloved hand across the table. "Do we have an accord?"​

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