Hitting The Books

[Ras'kala'han]

[SIZE=18pt]Lorrd[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Knowledge World of The Dominion[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Of all the greatest lies in the entire Galaxy, the rankest and most shameless of falsehoods, one stands high above all the others — that healing is possible. The greatest perpetrators of the lie, the misguided followers of the self-annihilating, subordinate Light like truly to believe this, that there is a tide that can wash away wounds, wash clean hands, even purify minds. Snow can wipe away footprints, but the person you were looking for was already gone. Memories can be buried under the clouding mists of the Force, but they never truly disappear. Wounds close under knitted flesh, but the cells remember. The [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]soul [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]remembers. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Then again, souls can die. Weak ones have been rent along the currents of the Force for as long as death, points of light borne from nothingness into order, then surrendered to eternal oblivion, the 'peace' of nonbeing. Maybe that's the healing the Jedi are waiting for. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Antherion walks down the streets of Lorrd, he and his compatriot cloaked in thick disguises, the covering robes of religious scholars. A pair of dark goggles peer out, gauze wraps around his face. Normally, this sort of garb would bar someone from entering the presidential palace, but he was far from planning to take the front entrance. The Dominion was trying to heal this world — to wash away the profound darkness that had been wrought by generation upon generation of slavery, people laboring under the weight of oppression of [member="Darth Voracitos"], a disgusting being that the darksider would have been proud to call 'Master.' Voracitos was pure. He and his ally would not let this world heal, though, they would not allow the darkness to be forgotten. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The plan was simple: stealthily enter the palace, exfiltrate with as many of the Shadow Emperor's secrets as could be found. Ensure that the Dominion didn't catch them - pray that the bloated master didn't re-emerge from the Netherworld at this moment with vengeance on his mind. [/SIZE]

They slipped in through a secret entrance, one that was given to him courtesy of [member="The Slave"], a certain "Paxton Bon" for when he needed to lie low. He didn't for a moment believe that the hedonistic horror-shaper was on his side, but he felt like the man was vaguely amused by the proceedings. If so, then fine, let him be amused. They laugh, he makes plans, so it always is.

At the top of the staircase, Antherion strips away his disguise. His frame is willowy, his face is soft, and his skin several shades too pale. His eyes swirl with gold. His dress was simple, black slacks and soft boots, and a white, stiff shirt with a black spavat around his neck to cover the wheezing cybernetics that let him breathe. His soft, blonde hair had grown out to his shoulders. He turned to his companion.

"Where we're going is illegal to be no matter who you are without a kind of I.D. we don't have and I can't be bothered to fake. So - no point in disguise. Stealth is nice, but speed is more important. This is a dash-and-grab heist, and we'll have the comfort that Lord Voracitos' security systems won't just be impeding us."

He paused for a moment, tilting his head as he rested a hand on his hip, stepping out onto the tiled floor.

"Your name is Aria, yes? Primeval, but I never figured you for one of the 'true believer' types. How'd you end up running with that crowd?"

If you were going to stage an audacious heist, may as well do it with some conversation. Antherion set out walking, a clipped pace, expecting his Sith friend to follow. A twist of electromagnetism with his fingertips and whatever camera was pointing at them would briefly fuzz out as they walked by. A little time delay until the fun started. Then again, he could hardly wait. These people had nearly killed him, had disrespected him... he was itching to avenge himself on them.

[member="Aria Vale"] | [member="Cairyn Midore"] | [member="Ra'a'mah"]​

 

[Eugen Aker]

...Ignorance, yet knowledge...

Long ago as an initiate on Coruscant, Arisa had believed that the ascent to Jedi Master would mark the completion of her journey as a Jedi. Years later, and she would see how naive she had really been in that line of thought. In the time since being run off from the Coruscant temple by the One Sith, she had been witness to both incredible and terrible feats she never thought possible. While a Master of the Jedi, she was still very much a student in all things pertaining to the Force. Her journey had only just begun.

Which was why she had decided to return to Lorrd for some self-study. The world's great repositories held knowledge that would help her to better contend against the ever more powerful foes she was facing. The Silver Order now looked to her for guidance as Grandmaster, and so she had to become strong enough to see them through this tumultuous period in their history.

This time, she wasn't alone. She had brought her newest apprentice Yuroic along, the Padawan matching her with a voracious appetite for learning, even though he was still getting the hang of reading. They were similar in many ways, so they meshed well together as Master and Apprentice. She had high hopes for him to help her lead the next generation of Jedi someday.

The pair arrived at Lorrd aboard a customized YT light freighter, favored by her for personal excursions and lowkey assignments. From the local spaceport, she rented out a land speeder for their use during their time on Lorrd. Then it was finally off to the Imperial/Presidential Palace of Lorrd, which held all sorts of restricted literature and artifacts. As Grandmaster of the Silver Order, and a long-standing ally that had assisted the Dominion on several occasions, she had almost free reign to handle these collections.

"You're in for a real treat," she told Yuroic as she deftly navigated through the busy streets as quickly as permitted, the controls of the sleek craft under hands of a seasoned starfighter pilot used to blistering speeds. "The Presidential Palace has some of the most impressive collections this side of Ossus."

She was smiling then, expecting nothing but an easy day of study and some light instruction. Just like the good old days on Coruscant.

[member="Yuroic Xeraic"] [member="Antherion"] [member="Aria Vale"] [member="Cairyn Midore"] [member="Ra'a'Mah"] [member="The Slave"]

 

[WelshPsych]

Yuroic was getting more experience travelling the galaxy. Lorrd was a new world to him, he had heard very little of the planet before so to be here with his Master felt great. He had wanted to study with his Master since he had taught himself the basics of reading. It became a quick fascination of his, from illiteracy to amateur scholar in such a short time. He often wondered if others went down the same path he did. Thinking upon this, he joined his Master in the speeder.

He had helped the Dominion when Sith from The Sith Ascension decided to attack them. It had been a gruelling battle, it had seen him and two other Padawan taking on a Sith Lord and his apprentice. This was before he even had his lightsaber, the duel had left scars with him and gave him a focus away from books and the Force to train in combat. However, now he was returning to studies of the mind there was a relaxing calm in his attitude. He was looking forward to seeing what they were going to study.

Upon hearing what Arisa described the library they were about to visit, Yuroic's eyes widened. This was going to be a very interesting study session indeed! Is there anything in particular we can learn from these books Master? Curious to see if these rare books could hold potentially powerful but nearly unknown Force powers or skills he could not learn from elsewhere.

[member="Arisa Yune"] | [member="Antherion"] | [member="Aria Vale"] | [member="Cairyn Midore"] | @Ra'a'mah | [member="The Slave"]

 

[Riamah]

Ra knew knowledge was power and at the moment lacked both. She would never know everything, so when the opportunity came, she went out of her way to learn new things. So she was at the Presidential Office on Lorrd. Being a part of the Dominion and becoming known by people again, not many questioned her and even then quite a few hesitated when they noticed the large nexu next to her.

Rescuing the kitten had been one of the best things she had done and loved the thing dearly. Training had gone smoother as she aged, the cat not Ra. She walked easily on the leash, didn't pull away too often anymore and had almost stopped going after the ankles of random people as they walked past. At her size now though, she would probably accidently hurt the person she was trying to play with. Soon Ra hoped she would no longer need the leash to control the nexu.

She had given up on trying to learn how to use a staff, but had on her two boot knives, two short sabers up her sleeves and a blaster on her hip. The people at the library entrance appeared to want to stop her, but with a look from both her and the wild cat, they let the two of the pass unmolested.

Walking in, Ra would stop and stare a few moments at the interior. It was lit, but not too bright, highlighting areas and keeping others dimmer so it wouldn't destroy whatever was kept there. Once inside, she walked around, just admiring the beauty.

[member="Yuroic Xeraic"] [member="Arisa Yune"] [member="Antherion"]

 

[NightSister]

L L O R D

Stance demure and eyes glowing amber, Aria Vale shed the disguise that cloaked her in the appearance of a scholar as she turned to face her companion. The Knight was casual, utterly calm, as though her mind had filtered out any possibility of danger. The fearlessness was facade - Aria was becoming an expert on those - but she was remarkably upbeat even inside her head about the looming threat of their mission.

"Aria, yes," she answered, voice low and even. "I caught word of their rebirth, I liked their style. So far they haven't disappointed."

Perhaps he'd notice that she'd not gone near the idea of whether she was a true believer. For all the time Aria spent mingling with the Primeval, the matter came up precious little and she was more than happy with it that way. In truth, she wasn't certain how close her stance on the gods came to belief, and when something was a matter of uncertainty she liked to leave it untouched as long as she could. She'd been raised a creature of logic and in many ways still was, though lately she preferred to think of it as reason (she knew full well that some things simply couldn't be explained so easily) but she was just as much now a creature who followed the Force. And if the force seemed to direct her towards the existence of gods. . . how hard could it be to believe?

But she filed the thought away - there were things to be done.

She was outfitted in black without her disguise (so much better - I half looked a Jedi in those robes), dressed more like an agent of a generic military organization than a follower of a faith such as the Primeval. Beliefs were one thing - she'd never claim to look the part. Eyes surveyed the area, watchful and alert, as Aria walked alongside the Dark Jedi.

- [member="Antherion"] - [member="Ra'a'mah"] - [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] - [member="Arisa Yune"] -​

 

[Ras'kala'han]

"Style? That's a touch abstract, my darling companion, but I think I might understand." Truth be told, Primeval's 'style' encompasses a wide variety of vices and virtues - devotion, death, and all sorts of carnage. He had enlisted in their fervent crusade for the sake of knowledge, he knew that the Slave had joined because such bodies were always drawn to the largest pools of blood, violence begetting more violence. This Aria's vague reply was suggestive of something different; a more personal connection seemed to be hinted at.

He considered probing at her with his prophetic touch, using the Force to scuttle along the lines of her fate and reap what knowledge he might, but the task at hand demanded a degree of focus. The Dominion was largely Jedi, and they were mostly debased, but in his experience the only thing as powerful as purity was total, utter corruption.

He should know.

"Every entryway into Voracitos' chambers are under strict guard. I've spent some time here with a... friend, familiarizing myself with the defenses, and that's not counting when this place was my home." He felt no need to elaborate that it was 'home' for no more than three weeks, and even then it was under strict monitoring and duress. "The chambers are deadbolted, and open only when receiving a signal broadcast from one of the Darth's own hover-chairs. I've arranged for one to be delivered here, so we'll have a few minutes' window to disable the guards. We want to do this as late as possible, since we'll only have until their check-in time passes to go unnoticed."

"They're implanted against mind-tricks - I say kill, just for surety." He kept his pace steady, purposeful. He rounded a sharp corner, his own senses angled entirely towards avoiding other living beings. He sensed a spark of energy traveling down the elevator towards them - he walked faster. No time to let others get wind of their presence, not until necessary. "We trigger as many security systems as we can behind us to slow our enemies down, and use our holorecorders to get copies of texts as fast as possible, preferably from as deep in the chambers as possible, and watch for traps."

His voice was a rather monotone cybernetic echo as he went through all this, but it carried a subtle hint of impatience. This was not at Aria, but rather the circumstances - he could spend endless hours wandering these chambers, browsing the knowledge, sampling the profound wisdom of one of the great Sith of their times, but no, on the eleventh hour of a plot to destroy everything he could not be certain that Lorrd would be spared. Let him take what he can, and the rest can wait, or burn as the Force willed it.

He turned sharply - there was their entryway. Two guardsmen on the door, and two outside what opened into the hall. Presumably, that meant two outside the hall as well, who would need to be handled as cleanly as possible. He pursed his lips and nodded towards the door, then [member="Aria Vale"], an unspoken bidding in his words - Make it quick.

A backblast of kinetic power rippled through the air with a muffled noise; the two guards posted at the entryway collided headfirst with the ceiling as they shot upwards, then fell in a pile of painful angles, a neck twisted, and a head's contents spilled outwards. Leaving his companion to those on the entryway, he rushed forwards, cybernetic muscles groaning and aching as he moved to bring similarly violent ends to the ones outside before any could notice.

| [member="Aria Vale"] | [member="Arisa Yune"] | [member="Ra'a'mah"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] |
​

 

[Darth Abyss]

"No knowledge evades my all seeing eye. My hand is Endless."

Lorrd

It was almost ironic that an entity with powers closer to that of a god than those of a man could walk among the common people undisturbed. Hollow metal obscured below the darkness that defined his entire being, a unseen shadow that left no marks on the ground below when he walked. Darth Abyss, the Mindeater, had emerged from the emptiness once more, and he was ready to go beyond the limitations of fragile humans to fulfill his goal.

For once his actions were not part of a long, elaborate plan. No agents, no eyes, no ears and no hand that had digged deep into the population in a scheme to claim absolute freedom by erasing his enemies. It had been a calling born from something far darker, far more eldritch than that. The hunger had risen inside of the void within, and the aspect of famine had emerged to feast on the knowledge of ancient times.

Even from far away, not merely cities but worlds apart he had heard its call, had seen the echo of the future in which the tainted wisdom was lifted from the unworthy hands of the Dominion. Not only that but he had seen the thieves as well. His old friend [member="Aria Vale"] and his "old friend" [member="Antherion"] that had set out to steal what had been stored on Lorrd. He mainly came to satisfy his hunger, but the chance to finally end his crippled foe in front of the eyes of his allies certainly appealed to him.

It wasn't like he hated that little insect, at least not more than the annoying buzz of a fly circling around his head, as that would mean that he wasted his precious time thinking about a worthless piece of metal and meat. Yet that insect had crossed him one time to often, so like any animal that had no worth anymore it had to be put down. Maybe even break his legs again along the way.

He had no intention to follow the two inside the structure. Why do the dirty work if you had a crippled fool and a less foolish girl that somehow ended up working with the greatest failure in the galaxy to do it for you? Instead he wandered patiently, hidden below his cloak of deception and darkness, trusting in the force to lead him where he had to be to catch his involuntary thieves once they had stolen what he desired. Aria could turn out as a problem, but she was smart. Hopefully she would see that it was smarter to sacrifice the cripple instead of fighting against a arcane construct of cursed spells, tainted souls and uncaring metal.

[member="Arisa Yune"] @Ra'a'mah [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

 

[NightSister]

Combat was a hobby she'd pursued well past the degree needed for your standard field mission, but it was only in the very recent years (no more than two, she was sure) that it had become natural for Aria to view her battles through the lens of a killer. It was undeniably so much more satisfying than sparing people for the sake of her moral code, but that was a bonus. She'd never been a murderer, but eventually she'd shed that absurd sense of honour that made her so reluctant to take lives. It became easier and easier to forget what had made her so determined not to kill, easier and easier to simply swing the sword when it suited her.

When [member="Antherion"] suggested killing as the best option, perhaps for the first time Aria didn't feel so much as a flicker of doubt.
She simply copied his nod and walked on forward.

She aimed for the guards her companion wasn't already busied with, letting unseen vices snake out and curl around them both. Just as quickly the grip tightened - crack! - and both guards collapsed into a pitiful array of limbs. Aria couldn't deny it was. . . pleasing to see them crumble so easily, but she didn't waste time enjoying the moment.

Hurriedly, she caught up with Antherion just as he finished dealing with the last two guards, eyes mapping the area.

"So - trigger security systems, you said?"

- [member="Darth Abyss"] - [member="Ra'a'mah"] - [member="Arisa Yune"] - [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] - [member="Antherion"] -​

 

[Ras'kala'han]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Well... we'll be intentionally tripping some, behind us, to hopefully make us more difficult to follow." [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Antherion dusted his slacks off as he stepped back from around the corner, the two guards who had been posted outside that door balanced in a neat, inert pile. The air around them smelled faintly of burnt flesh and ozone, smoke curled up from the bodies, and the man's fingertips had a slight smear of ash. He sported a curt smile; things seemed to be going fairly according to plan. He glanced up at the cameras — chanced a wave, and a short wink. As unlikely as it was, he derived a touch of pleasure from imagining a certain slave reviewing the tapes, catching that, or maybe just one of the Dominion's lackeys. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The droids were his, planted among those of the household, but they had his preferred programming. The corpses didn't bother them, they were as cold as their component parts, marching in perfect time as they entered. They flanked a hoverchair the size of a small table. The adept tilted his head, glancing over it - something so inconsequential, yet he could sense a faint malevolence from it, like the thin gloss of slime that a slug might leave having crawled over it, the sort of unsettlement which marked many places in the palace. The Lord of Gluttony's fingerprints were still on this place.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Droids - use your own transponders to mimic the signal being put out by the chair, I don't want you setting anything off. You’ll go ahead of us, arrive at the pick-up point ahead of us, carry what we can’t and download what’s available. You're loaded with a list of texts in my possession, cross-reference it when selecting what to carry, but delete the list immediately if you suspect that you will be compromised.” [/SIZE]

The Force-user pursed his lips, moving as he spoke. Best to make things as clear as possible. While he explained to his mechanical companions, he moved his hand along the curve of the floating throne, pausing for a moment as his hand passed over something. He flicked his wrist and the metal keened and parted, and in his hand was the chair's own transponder. Better to carry it than to waste time.

"Aria, stay with me - without this signal in close range, we'll be looking at the activation of all sorts of traps."

After the duo had passed through the door into the chambers of Darth Voracitos, he unleashed one last arc of Force, a tine of cerulean lightning out to the doorway. The panel to the front entry burst into sparks and smoke and useless, melted circuitry. Let them force their way in, see how the security systems responded.

A faint, red light began to pulse from the ceiling at detection of intrusion. The time for subtlety was over.

"The die is cast - I'm as unfamiliar with these chambers as you, so let's just make haste."

| [member="Aria Vale"] | [member="Arisa Yune"] | [member="Ra'a'mah"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] |​