Faction House Io: Civil War by Other Means

[Alessandra Io]

Midas - Khemost
Chamber of Midas

Commotion in paradise!

Having suffered huge losses to its armed forces during the Great Battle of Tython, House Io has been left reeling in the wake of the Matriarch’s relentless campaign to see the end of the Brotherhood of the Maw. Given the loss of so many experienced fighters, turmoil was inevitable as many citizens have begun to agitate for changes to the faction’s political and military structure, in order to ensure that such a staggering loss of life can not occur again over a single battle. In addition, some have begun to question whether the Matriarch has too much power.

Seeking to address the growing discontent, the upper levels of House Io’s leadership have scheduled an open political forum in the Chamber of Midas, for Tier 3 citizens and above to voice their grievances and to submit proposals for change. Here, in the direct presence of the Matriarch and her council of advisors, citizens will not only be allowed to express their outrage, but may also be given a hand in shaping the future of House Io itself!

Location: Chamber of Midas, Midas - Khemost
Attire: Magenta and White Kimono
Equipment: G1 OmniLink │ House Io Citizen Energy Sword, Type 4

Returning to her family hadn’t been easy, but she had done it.

At first, the Chaplain thought that she wouldn’t be needed, but it had only taken only a few days for that expectation to be proven wrong. From working on a murder mystery, investigating the Black Knights, and now this, Alessandra found herself thrown in the metaphorical deep end, even though she still had yet to resume her normal duties as a spiritual advisor. Nevertheless, after a long excursion into the Scar Worlds and the galactic rim, the Chaplain had returned to find her family in the midst of a crisis. Seeing that so many citizens had lost close friends and family because of Tython, Alessandra felt guilty for leaving, when she had been needed to ease people’s grief, many of whom had lost even more than she had. From a Siren who was the lone survivor of her unit, to a Black Knight Sharpshooter who had lost her husband, a naval officer, on one of the Rhand Class Battle Cruisers which had been thrown into the line of fire of a dreadnought over 10 times its size, Alessandra had met with many who were not only grieving, but were also angry for what they perceived to be a waste of life.

As if to further salt the wound, reports were trickling in that the Fatalis had been raised from the dead through the power of the Force. What then, had those warriors died for? More and more, it seemed that House Io had been tricked into throwing away lives for the benefit of foreign powers that deemed them as little more than terrorists. It went without saying that there was anger, and even some who wished to see the Matriarch overthrown and replaced. Perhaps the Amalgam could be tapped to lead House Io instead. The Cult was uncouth, but at least they were honest! After all, rumors had begun to swirl that their Goddess had saved many lives which otherwise might have been lost.

And like most rumors, there was an element of truth to them, which was not easily refuted.

Entering the chamber, Alessandra found herself in the midst of a growing crowd, sprinkled with reporters and news equipment. The Chaplain floated by them as fast as she dared, not wanting to be accosted for an interview before the forum was set to begin. Even so, she heard a female reporter call out her name, but Alessandra ignored it and soon, she was left to her thoughts when the reporter found someone more important to ambush.

From there, Alessandra took her designated seat in the chamber and waited for the forum to begin.

 

[Percival Io]

Percival sat on the couch in his Khemost apartment, hugging his knees to his chest. A whirlwind surrounded him, the household debris of last night’s storm of passion.

There was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” he called.

“Sir Lancelot, here to pick up Sir Percival and go on a quest to the Chamber of Midas.”

Percival frowned. He’d forgotten about the meeting today. But something else was off about all this. “Scott, I know it’s you. Stop playing.”

“Oh right, I forgot. I changed my name from Prescott to Lancelot first thing this morning.”

“Why?”

“'Cause I felt like it. You can call me Lance for short. Can I come in?”

Sighing, Percival muttered, “Sure.”

The door slid open and in stepped Lance. He wore a flamboyant silver suit and sunglasses. As soon as he saw Percival sitting amidst the wreckage of the living room, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Holy hell. You look like chit. When’s the last time you powered down? Also, why are you in your underwear?”

Grumbling, Percival ran a hand through his hair and got to his feet, wandering off to get dressed.

“Wear something nice for once,” Lance called after him. Remaining in the living room, he took off his sunglasses in order to better survey the damage. A holo-frame lay on the table in front of the couch, turned face down. Lance already guessed that it was a photo of Rebecca and her son before he lifted it to confirm the image. What he didn’t expect was for it to be a rather intimate picture of her holding a newborn Thel to her chest.

“It’s strange.”

Lance turned to find Percival standing behind him, dressed in his usual plain robes (though Lance noted that they were clean, at least). “What’s strange?” he asked, setting the picture frame down carefully.

“She never gave Thel baby formula. Was quite against the idea, in fact—she thought it was unhealthy. But the Deluge told the babysitter to give him formula… she must be incapable of feeding him the way Rebecca did. Anything her body produces would be poison. Witches’ blood is white, and their viscera is a putrid yellow…”

As he spoke, Percival’s expression grew more distant, as though he were lost in his thoughts. Grief clouded his eyes, unfocusing his gaze.

Lance opened his mouth as if to say something, only to close it again. What could he possibly say that could ease his brother’s suffering? Nothing came to mind. “I am so sorry, Percival,” he said, knowing it wasn’t enough.

Percival nodded stiffly, then changed the subject. “We better get going.”

LATER

Lancelot’s suspicions were correct; Percival hadn’t powered down for longer than a few hours since his return from Tython. He’d been busy comforting the relatives of the dead, praying with them, performing the last rites and funeral services for those lost in the battle. In a way, it was therapeutic for the Chaplain. There were so many lives lost, so many families torn apart and loved ones ripped away before their time, that his own sorrows seemed small in comparison. While he tended his flock, he could forget his troubles.

But he couldn’t hide from it all the time. Yesterday evening, after a concerned parishioner had convinced him to go home and rest, Percival’s walls had broken down. After tearing at his clothes and trashing his living room in a fit of futile rage, he had found the photo of Rebecca and Thel and spent the rest of the night staring at it, torturing himself with the sight. He wondered if he was malfunctioning; he cursed his creator for granting him the ability to feel; he whispered his vows over and over again, I will avenge you, Rebecca. I will save you, Thel. I will kill the Amalgam and her goddess. I will see the Cult destroyed…

The Chamber of Midas was already packed to the brim with Citizens and the media, enough that it was difficult to get inside, let alone find a seat. While Lance skirted past the reporters with practiced ease, Percival was distracted and soon found himself surrounded by journalists and holo drones.

“Percival Io—you are Percival, aren’t you—?”

“What can you tell us about the Matriarch’s conduct at Tython?”

“Is it true that your lover was among those rescued by the Brain Demon?”

“What do you think of the calls for the Amalgam to assume the role as head of House Io?”

The last two questions provoked a snarl from the Chaplain, who shoved his way past the cluster of reporters. Lance was anxiously waiting for him on the other side. “I found Galahad, he’s over there in the Chaplains section. Looks like he saved us some seats.”

Sitting in the row just behind Alessandra Io , Galahad was reading a book. Two volumes beside him reserved two seats, one for each of his brothers. As Percival and Lancelot approached, Galahad glanced up and met the former’s gaze. He dipped his head toward Percival and held it there, silently asking for permission to share personal data.

Percival closed his eyes, then leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Galahad’s lips parted in surprise. Physical contact was not necessary to establish the link; the gesture was indicative of profound trust. Or perhaps, it was a cry for help.

Either way, Galahad swiftly linked them and began the transfer. What he glimpsed of Percival’s mind troubled him. “You have yet to process your emotions,” he said, pulling away. <<And there is a flaw in your loyalty programming.>>

<<I know,>> Percival replied through their technopathic bond. <<I believe it resulted from witnessing the death of the Parliament. She was Xiphos in another life—watching it was like seeing Mother die.>> And when Mother did pass, as all organics must, Percival and the rest of her creations would hold allegiance to no one but themselves.

<<What are you two up to?>> Lancelot inquired, butting into the conversation.

Rather than respond, Percival simply swung his head toward Lance, confiding his personal data in him as well. Lance blinked, then cast a worried glance toward either of his brothers.

<<Don’t tell me one of us is about to go rogue. I can’t live without you guys.>>

<<Don’t be ridiculous,>> Percival replied. <<No one is going rogue. But we need to deal with the Cult before this treasonous talk of the Amalgam becoming the next Matriarch gets out of hand.>>

Galahad’s eyes flashed in understanding. <<You’re going to tell them what happened to Rebecca. You think you can change their minds that way. But Percival—don’t you realize how easily the Deluge could spin it in her favor, claiming to be happy with her new life?>>

<<I agree,>> Lance said, cringing. <<Sorry, man. Her personal testimony will trump yours in the minds of the people.>>

Percival rubbed his face, hiding his frustration. <<Then what do you suggest I do instead?>>

Galahad’s response was almost immediate. <<Promote the Battalion in her place.>>

Alessandra Io Laertia Io Akemi Io Draco Miles​

 

[Akemi Io]

Communication "verbal" <<technopathy>>

Objective: Conference time
Tag: Alessandra Io Percival Io Draco Miles Laertia Io

Loadout:
Loralora interceptor swoop
Gei Borugu Electro Spear
Light Saber (peony colour blade)
Laser Lance
Q7 encrypted data-spike

The past few weeks for Akemi had been a learning experience, she had experienced as whole range of emotions ranging from the feeling of loss at the destruction over Tython, the fear that her bond with her sister may have broken on Mustafar and the elation of having her home. And now, now was contempt, a very strange emotion to for the little HRD to experience, but one to scratch off the list either way. The leadership of House Io had led the nation into a pointless was on behalf of the Galactic Alliance to defend a meaningless rock. If Akemi had her was the whole house would pick up and head back out into space and just abandon Khemost or all intents of acquiring territory for its citizens to die over. But Akemi wasn't herself, and she needed to rationalise, she attempted to partition off her more emotional curcuits and just focus on what made her happy.

She wore white today, and had also changed the colour of her hair to white, complementing her pale complexion, it was the first time she had looked like this and she wondered how her siblings might react to her style for today. As she walked in to the chamber, she could feel the tension in the network, the number of outgoing datastreams reduced to just a few and incoming traffic was also minimal, this session was important so security was tight. The seat had filled up fast, but little Akemi had made a bee line to the seats where Alessandra Io and Percival Io sat. Percy appeared to be reserving seats so Akemi slid in next to Alessandra. "Brother, Sister, it is good to see you both, is everything ok?" she smiled with her almost child like grin, as if she was oblivious to the fact her siblings were both going through traumas, and that today was such a tense day.

She reached down and tried to lace her pale fingers between the olive digits of her Chaplain sister and squeeze her tight. <<Are you OK? I am here for you.

I would like to take you to the shooting range this evening before we leave, we haven't had chance to assess your performance since Mustafar, I feel such an assement would benefit us both?>> she gave Alessandra a slight sideways look, raising an eyebrow to emphasise the question. She had also been working on a way to try and recreate Alessandra's lost daughter, and she may have a way to do it, in a manner at the very least. But she took great pains not to get Alessandra's hopes up.

Now speaking verbally to both "I am curious which way you believe we should go? Myself, I love our mother but I think the position of leadership is too much for one person. Consensus led governance would suit my tastes much better." Her own colectiv3 consciousness worked exactly like this on a smaller scale so she hoped its could be replicated in the reak world as safely.

 

[Draco Miles]

WAAAAAR! … ope… nvm, politics… either way, during such heated debates and the warlike society of House Io, staying clad in her armor was not too much of an issue.

She came to be supportive of Arianna Belasko , to stand by her side and act as more of a bodyguard than actually participate, hoping to just meditate in the force the entire time and try to feel out for possible threats, to feel out where each and every individual person was, or if they had any weapons. Though she was praying the Amalgam was not chosen, that’d be a massive setback. The countess seemed more viable than anyone!

 

[Percival Io]

"Brother, Sister, it is good to see you both, is everything ok?"

All three brothers abruptly turned to face Akemi Io . "Fine," they answered in unison, then glared irritably at each other. In some ways they were different, in others... Well, they were all cut from the same cloth, after all.

But it was plain to see that Percival, at least, was not “fine”. His Neutralizer body, while durable, was beginning to show signs of neglected maintenance. It was especially noticeable when one compared him to his brothers, who were identical in appearance but had actually been taking proper care of themselves.

Lance seemed to suddenly take notice of Alessandra Io seated in the row in front of him. His gaze lowered to a loose lock of long white-cyan hair that had fallen over the back of her chair. He reached out and gently tucked it back in with the rest of her hair.

Galahad, pretending to be interested only in his book, observed the little gesture in silence. He thought he glimpsed jealousy in Lance’s eyes as he watched Akemi lace her fingers with Alessandra’s.

"I am curious which way you believe we should go? Myself, I love our mother but I think the position of leadership is too much for one person. Consensus-led governance would suit my tastes much better."

“I certainly wouldn’t stand for the role of Matriarch to be passed to the Amalgam,” Percival said, his arms crossed over his chest. “If Mother cannot lead us, then let us lead ourselves.”

“Well said,” Galahad remarked. “I agree with the sentiment. Turning the House into a democratic-republic would be a good course of action. What do you think, Lancelot?”

“Huh?” Lance blinked, tearing his eyes away from Alessandra. “Could you repeat the question?”

“What. Do. You. Think. We. Should. Do?”

Lance shrugged. “Nothing. Things are fine as they are. People are mad about Tython, well, we just won’t step in the next time the Maw tries to blow up a planet that belongs to our enemies. It’s as simple as that.”

“You don’t think Mother is overburdened with responsibilities as Matriarch of House Io?”

“I mean, it is named after her,” Lance waved his hand dismissively. “This ship is moving because she set it in motion. Now, if she wants to pass some of her responsibilities on to someone else, that’s one thing—a ship needs more than a captain to keep things running smoothly. But giving up her position as head of the House she founded? That should be out of the question. The ship goes nowhere without its captain.”

Percival mulled over the analogy, then nodded. “He’s right. Xiphos can’t step down. Not now, anyway.” He glanced toward the center of the Chamber, where Xiphos was due to make her entrance any minute. “Let’s hope she feels the same way.”

Alessandra Io Laertia Io Akemi Io Draco Miles​

 

[Delilah Io]

The Battle of Tython.

Every Model of Nuetralizer had been pressed into service for the attack.

Maybe seven months prior, she had been training aboard a House Star Destroyer, learning how to kill. Every Nuetralizer is activated ready to be deactivated permanently to defeat the enemy, whoever that is.

But there are some Nuetralizers who were never meant for the frontline. Delilah was one such Nuetralizer.

She had been pressed into service, handed both a rifle and energy sword. She was with her brothers and sisters, everyone she had remained activated alongside. Models mingled with other Models. Sometimes whole groupings of the older Models would adopt the newer ones as little Sisters they would take to training personally. This also happened with natural birth Organics.

Delilah had experienced this herself, being taken in by The Red Knives, a guild run by The Model 3's active since their first engagement at Kerest. She wore an armorweave camouflage catsuit patterned after Tython's landscape. The three red dagger symbols of her older brothers were painted on her forehead.

Next to her in the combat shuttles that poured out of the Rhand Class Cruiser assaulting the Maw's enemy Star Destroyer, were her Sisters and Brothers from other guilds. She loved them. They sang together.

There was Catalina Io , the quiet one. The quietest of the bunch, clutching her Laser Spear, near the hatch so she would be among the first out. The Green Stripes, her adoptive brothers, were infamously no nonsense about killing, and enforced Stoicism among their lot as a means to accept the harsh realities of warfare. Anyone from that guild was Officer material. Next to her sat Talisa Io , the curvy blonde Android in an Iron Gray Catsuit with a metallic finish, armed with a double bladed variant of the Citizen Energy Sword. She hadn't even gotten a parish yet. The symbol of her guild, the Hammers of Sev Tok, a Black Mallet painted on her forehead by her adoptive brothers in the Model 2's contrasted against the rest of her golden skin.

A cynical part of her wondered whether part of all this was motivated by a need to gather data.

After all, you can design something to do something all you want, but it's all complete theory without testing it in real world conditions. Her Mother was, after all, a Scientist...why would she build something and not make absolutely certain it functioned as intended?

(Cutaway of William Stryker raiding the X-Mansion)

In House Io, nearly all trials were trials by fire.

"Today, we 'bless' ourselves in the blood of our foes...today, we shall visit upon the Maw what they visited upon us...loss. Desolation. It is our destiny, our right, to seek retribution." Talisa preached over encrypted comms.

"THE CHILDREN OF XIPHOS SHALL NOT FALTER." the Nuetralizers proclaimed loudly in response.

"They came to our doorsteps to take what was ours. Now they come to this world. They took resources that didn't belong to them. People. They come here purely for Destruction. They are brought here only by hate. We are brought here by Justice AND Hate!" Talisa exclaimed.

"Show them as much mercy as our own worlds were. For even if we fail this day, the MAW SHALL BLEED AS THEY HAVE NEVER BLED BEFORE!"

"FOR CSILLA!" everyone shouted back.

They touched down, and Delilah was out of the shuttle immediately heading into hastily dug trenches amidst the field, the Rhand Class Cruiser blasting into the grounded enemy Star Destroyer.

The slaughter was terrible. She had been shown the gruesome recordings of battlefields, but it couldn't compare to the real thing. The smell. The gore. Screams everywhere.

A Maw artillery shell landed close by and annihilated a set of Brothers she had been close to, her other siblings immediately retaliating by ordering a fighter strike on the position, everyone firing ahead to blast apart the sudden wall of Mawites charging their position.

Only her nature as a Nuetralizer, something that woke up knowing how and ready to kill, allowed her to process it all enough to continue functioning and moving, even as her heart lanced at the death of her ship-siblings. Brenda's arm landed in front of her. Brenda had been teaching her the flute. Delilah barely had time to register the death of an Organic Citizen, a Citizen named Derek, as a maw bullet exploded his head.

The mass charge of the Mawites had a deadly simplicity in sheer numbers. The small trench dug with it's repeaters cut down their slave Soldiers by the score, but it was soon quickly swarmed and overrun, Delilah and too many others surrounded by multiple combatants all trying to kill them where they stood. Terrible shockwaves from air detonations above and volcanic activity below only added to the horror of the slaughter.

Delilah sliced a Mawite clean in half with her sword, Catalina impaling another and lifting him up on her spear, activating her own energy sword to disembowel another that got too close. Many people had quickly discovered General Purpose Nuetralizers to be among the fastest reacting and moving of any model created by Xiphos. Give 'em a pair of knives and release them into crowds. Fast enough that Model 1's didn't like to engage one head on in training, or if they did, relied on their brute strength and armored chassis.

Delilah's design had been derived from the genetics of chaplains. But she had been built for Diplomacy. Not the frontline, though her combat algorithms were the equal of any high grade body guard Droid, and in some ways superior.

Delilah was smacked into the ground by a burst of lightning from a Sith, and her systems went haywire, shutting on and off randomly for a few seconds as part of her managed to move her sword into place to block the next barrage of Sith Lightning. But the side that had been hit had its muscles charred, making her movements stiff and awkward as she blocked the next blast with her energy sword, so he tried to level the playing field by trying to strangle her with the Force, only to find she was powering through the attempt, though at great strain--he was clearly putting as much effort as he could into it.

Her sword came down, only to be slammed with debris that broke her arm and knocked her sword out of her hand.

She struggled to rise, only for a piece of durasteel piping to wrap around her and slam her to the ground again, shattering her jaw. A sliver of mortal fear entered Delilah for the first time. This was it. She could actually die.

What had her life meant, in the long run?

She caught glimpses of her brothers and sisters being cut down, though many killed 007 to 10 for every one they lost in turn.

Her earliest memories were of singing alongside them to bond in the white training rooms where Silver Skeletons tested and conditioned them to their purpose. She knew all their little nuances. All their habits. Their favorite things. The nights they played cards.

Why were they dying on a planet they had no link to?

Nuetralizer TIE units swooped down in a massed swarm, their green laser bolts ripping into the charging hoardes, the Sith caught one of the TIE's, tried to reprogram it by Force, only to be further surprises at how violent it's resistance was, and resorted instead, to simply hurling it into a squad of her brothers in the distance, grinding it sadistically into her fellow Citizens.

Homicidal Rage entered her mind for the first time in her life and she managed to shatter her bindings, rush him before he could react and tackle him in a violent bear hug where she squeezed.

The Sith screamed in pain as his ribcage began to fracture, but his sudden agony and growing hatred of all things House Io allowed him to empower himself with the Darkness, and he grabbed her by the head to try and gouge her eyes out.

He screamed as the claws in her left forearm went in and out repeatedly. Her body flowed with Force Lightning and suddenly all her muscles failed as she dropped to the ground, badly burned, flesh melted in some spots. No pain. Just Hatred. Shoulder and wrist muscles still worked. Partial back muscles.

The Sith brought his Lightsaber down.

Delilah's heart activated it's Dovin Basal function and it slowed the speed of the blade just long enough for her to activate one of her still working Nuetralizer claws and parry it, her other hand ripping up from the mud and driving her Energy Sword just barely deep enough into hus brain to kill him, she started getting buried in bodies and mud and fire and began fruitlessly screaming for help...

Delilah opened her eyes getting out of low power mode as fast as she could. Her databases had looped that memory again.

The sand skinned Biot sat on the side of her bed in her apartment aboard the Colossus of Shadows. Place was quieter since Tython. Sometimes she couldn't go into Low Power Mode because she heard the other Citizens screaming from nightmares, mourning new connections cut. There had already been a few suicides.

Everyone had an opinion about Tython. Delilah remembered only that she had lost almost all her closest siblings.

She had lobbied to be the one to oversee the questioning of her Mother. Of the Leadership. What had transpired was so severe even The Amalgam had been brought in on holoconference, as Xiphos was still ultra mega pissed about The Deluge even existing and her order forbidding The Amalgam from setting foot on Khemost was still in effect.

House Io was reeling still. Tython had been a victory in spite of everything going wrong. But the price was like burning charcoal in the mouth.

Delilah stood, used a shower and dressed in her diplomatic garb, a chrome like armorweave ion gray leotard with matching gloves and boots, picking up her scuffed and scratched energy sword. Her black hair was as black as that of her Mother but styled different.

Her eye caught a glance at a photo of her and her closest siblings on a House Destroyer, which had been lost also at Tython. Only Catalina, Agatha, and Talisa were left from that group. Everyone else had died horribly. So many she would never speak to again.

What had they died for?

Delilah Io sure as hell intended to find out.

She felt isolated, as she walked from her apartment, located in one of the more out of the way complexes aboard the Colossus. She saw Citizens, both Artificial and Organic, still sporting injuries and disfigurements or damage.

They all deserved answers. Like why the Avatar of War was so important they had to be the ones to do everything they could to destroy it.

Present.

Delilah entered the grand chamber of Midas, still organizing it's Tier 3 Citizens into the proper arrangements while waiting for Xiphos.

As Delilah was not well known nor had she made a name for herself yet, the reporters missed the significance of her entry as she strode past seated citizens on the rows. The great chamber still had certain elements of Khemost's prior ruler, Darth Mammon present in the form of busts and frescoes bearing her image. Delilah spotted Draco Miles , running Bodyguard Duty for Arianna Belasko , who arrived, in a severe, metallic white gown that covered everything, head in a elaborate bun as she took a seat on one of the central tables in the chamber, recessed into the ground instead of as a raised platform as in the Senate of Coruscant, so that all of House Citizens might stand over and judge the leadership.

From behind a curtain came The Battalion first, in an All-White Catsuit, a single Lightsaber hanging from her belt. A second later was a spidery holoprojection Droid beaming an image of The Amalgam , bearing the face of Her typical fair skinned, dark haired self rather than that of Darth Phyre's more exotic looking features.

This was followed soon by Darth Themis , her body currently morphed to look like a large, Obsidian scaled cross between a human woman and a Cobra, legs replaced by the lower body of a snake, her head bearing a Cobra like hood as scaled arms clutched a Lightsaber Spear.

Soon after was Lyssa Io , First Daughter of Laertia. Each took their seats, their unnatural nature made more noticeable under the lights.

Each were subtly terrifying for different reasons. There was Arianna's regal, ghostly demeanor and pale figure amidst a sea of rough and tumble sorts. The Battalion's posture betrayed that of a relaxed monstrosity, the utter stillness before even a twitch of muscle was as mesmerizing as it was deeply unsettling. Themis, her silent figure coiled around a seat, her scales reflecting a thousand faces, golden eyes scanning the room. Citizens didn't often get a good look at some of the more obscure members of the upper leadership beyond Xiphos and The Battalion. They were aware of the others, it's just that they rarely saw them in public. Lyssa's unnatural yet fluid precision, body morphed to look like she wore a skintight silver catsuit with black spikes on the shoulders had an unusually serene expression, given the gravity of events.

She spotted various other figures, the Chaplains Alessandra Io and Percival Io along with his copies, currently among the most famous ongoing medical cases in House Io. There was Akemi Io , pretty much head of Cybersecurity and Droid Mind preservation.

There were a TON of significant faces here. Major ramifications were in store.

Delilah took her seat at a table above the slightly recessed pit the Leadership sat in, and instantly drew camera flashes to her.

In the meanwhile, The Deluge showed, a recent, and very public convert (albeit against her will) to the Cult Percival hated. She wore the same white catsuit the other Cultists did. She looked somewhere to sit, spotted and began waving at Percival, intrigued by his somewhat unkempt state and proceeded to sit on the row next to the three brothers.

"Three copies of the same heart throb..." she said quietly, blue crazy eyes staring right into Percival, his face triggering nascent flashes of what was left of Rebecca, momentarily suppressing the rest of the Witches. "Always a delight...and greetings to you as well, Akemi..."

But finally, Laertia Io herself arrived...she wore her most powerful armor, the dark blue, living armor gifted to her a long time ago, keeping her injured body able to function. She walked a little slower than usual, the armor making her a bulky, angular wraith whose features were obscured.

The whole room fell silent instantly as she entered. There were no more camera flashes.

Xiphos took a seat at the center of the Table. It was dead silent.

"This hearing is now in session..." Delilah called out through aid of a microphone.

"The subject is the events surrounding Tython, and the committal of our naval resources to the defense of the planet."

Delilah looked around the room before turning to her Mother, whose expression she could not read.

"Have you anything you would add to the record before this floor is open to questioning?"

Darth Xiphos stood up.

"Tython was my call. I made the final decision to send the Citizens of this House there. I take full responsibility for the results after, regardless of what this hearing determines."

"As do I." Arianna added.

"Likewise..." Darth Themis spoke, voice almost metallic like.

"Same here..." The Battalion confirmed.

"You can all bet your asses I was in on it." The Amalgam admitted.

"So was I..." Lyssa added.

Xiphos sat back down.

"Okay, everyone's got questions. I got answers. Answers you won't like..." she confessed. "Ask away."

 

[Alessandra Io]

Midas - Khemost
Chamber of Midas

The cameras flashed nonstop at her arrival.

Alevia Io’s presence immediately attracted a large gaggle of reporters as she strode into the Chamber of Midas, who began bombarding the Chaplain with questions regarding her support of the Amalgam as the new Matriarch and her controversial declaration that the Brain Demon was the true force behind their victory, in spite of House Io’s terrible losses. Few knew of her motivations for such controversial declarations, only that she had been one of the many citizens who had been teleported away from certain death by the Brain Demon and now was calling the mysterious entity her Goddess.

What bargain had she struck with the Brain Demon which now compelled her to worship such a terrible entity, if she had struck one at all?

“Alevia, are you aware that the Amalgam has claimed responsibility for what occurred on Tython?” One reporter questioned.

“Why do you believe that the Amalgam should replace Darth Xiphos as Matriarch?” Another drilled.

“Is it true that you struck a bargain with the Brain Demon to support the Amalgam as Mat-”

“There was never a bargain, Erin.” Alevia delivered her answer with an unerring, polite grace, giving a graceful smile as she did. “I simply believe that in order to recover from Tython, a radical change is necessary.” She continued. “We need to set aside our prejudices and begin to embrace the Dark Side, not merely as a Force to be used in battle, but as a set of ideals, following its principles of strength, liberation, and passion. It must be understood that in this modern era, the Dark Side reigns supreme. The strongest galactic powers to exist in our time have harnessed it. Even those Dark Side superpowers which were considered to be weak —such as the Tenth Sith Empire—demanded full military commitments from multiple superpowers to bring to heel. The Brotherhood of the Maw took commitments from no less than seven major superpowers to defeat at Tython, and even after the death of their Sith’ari, they still remain a potent force. Now, what if House Io were to embrace the Dark Side? Think of what we could achieve, the heights to which we could ascend!” The elfin Chaplain finished, her photoreceptors wide with conviction as the words left her lips.

“True power does not reside in twisting the Light or merely dabbling in the Dark. There is nothing inherently wrong with these things, but at some point, we must demand more, seek out the forbidden, the supposedly unnatural, and the unlight! The Brain Demon is a powerful Goddess, but there may be more entities within the realm in which She resides, who can give us more than even She can offer!”

“We need only to seek them out, Erin.” Alevia finished, an impish grin set on her pale features before a fresh torrent of questions was unleashed by the other reporters. All the while, the Chaplain moved to take her seat in the chamber, accompanied by a small retinue of enthralled Baedurin Draelvasier and sylph-like Nuetralizer attendants.

Location: Chamber of Midas, Midas - Khemost
Attire: Magenta and White Kimono
Dialogue Legend: <<Technopathy Link>> │ “Verbal”
Equipment: G1 OmniLink │ House Io Citizen Energy Sword, Type 4

Alessandra processed Alevia’s interview simultaneously with the conversation transpiring around her. While she didn’t entirely agree with the Dark Side-worshiping Chaplain, she admired her sister’s radical conviction and desire to see change effected. However, for her part, Alessandra simply wanted answers. She was content with Xiphos resuming her place as Matriarch, not wanting her family to deviate from the course that had been set. In that, the Chaplain had heard rumors that there were some who wanted House Io’s war with the Jedi to cease, arguing that while the Jedi were hypocritical and obtuse, they were not a threat to the galaxy and had only good intentions.

Conversely, Alessandra was deeply worried that the pro-Jedi memetic infection she had discovered in her grandmother might soon grow into an epidemic in House Io. The Jedi were nothing if not wealthy. As such, they had armies of bots and paid ‘Net warriors to spread their disinformation viruses across the HoloNet and beyond. The ongoing trends of anti-Sith and anti-Dark Side propaganda, which continued to translate in policy and action, had her concerned for the state of religious freedoms across the galaxy. She was a Chaplain after all, and religion was always a concern of hers, even though she had not yet returned to her parish.

She only feared that the Jedi might manage to corrupt House Io from the inside.

"Brother, Sister, it is good to see you both, is everything ok?"

“Akemi, it’s wonderful to have you here.” Alessandra smiled. “I love your hair and your outfit. The white…it’s…soulful.” The Chaplain replied, with an intentionally dramatic, if not even inviting pause.

As if on cue, Akemi’s fingers were intertwined with her own and the Chaplain let her head rest on Akemi’s shoulder, a gentle smile on her cyan lips as the white-haired Fixer spoke to her via intimate technopathy

She reached down and tried to lace her pale fingers between the olive digits of her Chaplain sister and squeeze her tight. <<Are you OK? I am here for you. I would like to take you to the shooting range this evening before we leave, we haven't had chance to assess your performance since Mustafar, I feel such an assement would benefit us both?>>

<<I miss my daughter, Akemi.>> Alessandra transmitted, a sad look in her eyes as she did. <<I know I shouldn’t, but I replay the memories every day.>> She continued. <<Is this how grief is supposed to be? It’s been two months and I still feel the emotions like Tython was yesterday. I might be making progress, but…it’s not getting any easier.>>

<<I think an assessment might take my mind off of it, but…I want another distraction. I’ve been trying to find something that might allow you and our brothers to touch the Force. Akemi, I talked to Alain on the Colossus and he believes that you already can, it’s just that you need something to unlock it.>>

From there, Alessandra turned to face her three brothers, doing so only just after Lancelot shifted her hair. However, since the Chaplain didn’t have strong tactile receptors there, she failed to register the movement. She acknowledged him with a soft smile and a pleasant wave, before giving a similar greeting to his two brothers as the discussion veered into politics.

Lance shrugged. “Nothing. Things are fine as they are. People are mad about Tython, well, we just won’t step in the next time the Maw tries to blow up a planet that belongs to our enemies. It’s as simple as that.”

“I agree with Lancelot.” Alessandra smiled, giving her brother a brief moment of intimate photoreceptor contact as she did. “We need only stay the course, and I am confident that with time, we will emerge stronger. However, after such a traumatic battle, I fear that many might be rendered susceptible to memetic infection. While change is necessary, we must work to ensure that nothing betrays the principles our family is based on, including religious freedom, which I fear might come under threat...” The Chaplain argued.

Just as she finished speaking, the lights in the chamber began to dim, the first signal that the forum was underway as the entire room fell silent.

"This hearing is now in session..." Delilah called out through aid of a microphone.

And with that, her mother—clad in her wraith-like suit of armor—came into view on the screens as she gave her opening statements, along with her advisors and the Amalgam, who appeared via hologram due to her exile.

Alessandra was the very first to speak, floating up from her seat as she did, before setting down at the edge of the recessed pit.

“Mother, I have only one question. It is not intended to challenge you, but I believe that we must begin with evaluating you first, in order to figure out why this occurred.” The Chaplain began. “I hope that you can answer me truthfully.” Alessandra paused.

“To you and you alone, was Tython worth it?”

Percival Io Akemi Io Draco Miles Delilah Io ​

 

[Akemi Io]

Communication "verbal" <<technopathy>>

Objective: Conference time
Tag: Alessandra Io Percival Io Draco Miles Laertia Io

Loadout:
Loralora interceptor swoop
Gei Borugu Electro Spear
Light Saber (peony colour blade)
Laser Lance
Q7 encrypted data-spike

Akemi looked at the three brothers and greeted the warmly before focusing on Percival Io . She communicated with him digitally, as he may not wish to discuss the matter. <<Brother, you have not been following your maintenance routine, if what is inside matches the outside? I am worried about you, I would like to run diagnostics as soon as we are able.>>

She turned her attention back to Alessandra Io , smiling and she felt the weight of her head on her shoulder. <<I know my love, it will take time, my understanding is that it never truly goes away, you just learn to live with it. But in that respect she will always be with you. I dont know if that is a comfort or not?>>

Alessandra's next comment cause an small error, imperceptible to even Akemi to occur deep within her programming. Akemi's Midi-chloroxians did make her force sensitive but one of her droid personality quirks refused to allow her to believe it. <<What exactly did Alain say? I am a machine, an advanced machine, but the force is out of my and our reach. It is a shame as it would unlock a level of power to us, but through our technology it is currently not achievable.>>

Listening to Al's response to Lancelot, she agreed with his principle of toughing it out, but Galahad Io suggestion of moving to a democratic Republic spoke to her more, democracy was not without its flaws, but it was less subject to the mistakes and even hubris of a single person. She have Galahad an nod of agreement as he brought this up. And then the lights dimmed before they could speak more. The opening statements seemed to set the tone, they were willing to accept responsibility, but they were ready to fight to justify why they were right.

The Chaplain next to Akemi released her fingers and took to the edge of the pit to speak first.

“To you and you alone, was Tython worth it?”

Akemi smiled, she was very interested to hear the answer to this, but she would be angry if they brought out the same repeated propoganda about the Avatar of War. A planet killing weapon doesn't need to blow up planet's if you fly your civilisation down its throat first. She couldn't exactly clap and cheer to support the question in this silent room, but for Alessandra's eyes only, a single peony coloured butterfly landed on her outstretched hand and flexed agressively at the matriarch as a show of support.

​

 

[Percival Io]

<<Brother, you have not been following your maintenance routine, if what is inside matches the outside? I am worried about you, I would like to run diagnostics as soon as we are able.>>

Percival managed to give Akemi a thin smile. <<No diagnostic is necessary, Sister. I already know the source of the problem.>> And it could not be easily remedied with a memory wipe or repairs.

"Three copies of the same heartthrob..."

As if on cue, The Deluge entered the Chamber and took a seat near them. Percival stared straight at her with a look of such intensity, his normally green eyes took on a brassy sheen reminiscent of clockwork gears.

“Hello Rebecca,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

He then leaned toward her until their lips met for a brief, yet tender kiss. Despite his pain and grief, all that truly mattered to Percival was that Rebecca was still in there somewhere. His kiss was meant for her alone—the rest of the Deluge’s personas be damned—and so she would receive it. He thought he saw her face twitch and her gaze soften, as though what remained of the woman he loved was peering forth. It was momentary, but enough to rekindle his hope.

The lights dimmed shortly afterwards, and the meeting began. Upon seeing the state Xiphos was in, Percival mourned his mother’s declining health. He had heard rumors—it was said that Xiphos could no longer function for long outside of a bacta tank unless she was encased in armor. Looking at her now, that much seemed to be the case.

Each of the House’s most powerful figures claimed full responsibility for Tython, then the floor was opened for questions. Alessandra stepped up first, asking Xiphos if she still believed Tython had been worth it.

While Xiphos answered, Galahad stood up in preparation to ask the next question.

Alessandra Io Laertia Io Akemi Io Draco Miles​

 

[Laertia Io]

Hours earlier...

Xiphos lay inert in her mobile Bacta Tank within her apartment, miserable and alone and in pain. Wracked by guilt.

The final tallies had been made of all the citizens that had died. It had been utterly sickening.

She questioned more and more if Tython was worth it. She knew there were many justifications for going there, but the price that had been paid...

Even with The Maw thwarted, did that really justify the price she had sent her citizens to pay?

She knew she could justify it. As bloody as it was. But she also knew at the same time there could never be another Tython.

It had not been a Pyrrhic Victory, but it had come frighteningly close to being one...

As she floated in the tank, filled with an expensive Bio Bacta solution (She was hard at work trying to figure out how to create Alchemized Bacta, but her head hurt all the time and it was hard to focus) she stared at her hands.

You're like one of those old Boxers, always thinking they can take just one more punch. she thought to herself.

What if you're just plain punch drunk?

Could a Super Soldier get punch drunk?

She sensed her children coming to her inner chambers. She felt another presence, but it had been so long and she was so woozy she didn't recognize it.

"Mother?" A Model 1 called out as someone in a green hooded robe walked with him. "We have had an unexpected development and we simply didn't have a chance to inform you until now what with carrying out final security checks for the Hearings."

"Bad news?" she asked through her tanks connected intercom.

"Uncertain..." he answered, removing the hood if the traveler.

Xiphos stared. Her heart skipped a beat.

It was Moya Virtu

It had been years since they had contacted each other.

Once, Xiphos would have been beyond ecstatic to see her back.

But now...

...now Xiphos felt confusion...and bitterness...

"She surrendered to one of our outposts on Denon without a fight. She was armed only with this." he said, holding up her old silver Lightsaber.

"Well done, my son. Would you please excuse us?" Xiphos requested.

The Model 1 nodded and left. Heretic Sith and Prototype stared at one another.

Xiphos floated in the tank.

"I must admit...you are the absolute last face I expected to see." Xiphos said through the comm unit built into the tanks breath mask.

"I don't know what I expected to see, meeting you again...I suppose I should not be surprised at what I have found." Moya said in a low tone.

"What have you found?"

"Someone held together only by the inertia of their own decisions. But even that is coming apart now." Moya answered, stepping a bit closer, viewing her horrifying and much more recent injuries dealt to her.

"Did Tython do this to you? Or did the SJC get back at you for Kashyyyk?"

"Maple got back at me for Kashyyyk. Went full Sith over it. Funny girl. I almost thought she didn't have it in her." Xiphos muttered, her broken body swishing around in the Bacta Slightly.

Moya frowned.

"That poor girl. She needed help, and you pushed her completely over the edge."

"She's better off. She got her will to live back."

"You made all her worst nightmares about herself come true."

"There is no cure for Schrodinger's Syndrome. It can be halted, suspended with the Dark Side but there is no cure. Not in this plain of existence anyway."

Moya clapped sarcastically.

"Well done. She got an extra inning...at the cost of thousands of Civilians, younglings included. You knew who would be there. You worked there. You did it anyway."

"The Order deserves much worse..."

"Only according to you. You have thrown away any claim to being civilized. Being Human."

Moya turned away from the shattered remains of her daughter.

"Why are you here, Moya?" Xiphos asked.

"To see just how much your obsessions have consumed you." Moya answered. "This war against the Order is insane and hopeless and pointless. This isn't what your parents died for..."

"Don't you dare presume to tell me what they died for." Xiphos growled. "I was forced to actually watch it due to some spell that fether Starlin Rand cast!"

"You have no one to blame but yourself for making him an enemy. You've destroyed your reputation and your life opposing them! This, all of this, is a House of Cards!" Moya argued. "They wouldn't accept your surrender now even if you offered it."

"...you have no idea what I gave up to make sure The Avatar was prevented from firing!" Xiphos hissed. "If the Maw had defeated them at Tython, their core world push would have been all but assured! They lost most of their senior leadership and are now on the back foot. It was a disaster for them."

"Bad for them. Good for all those people who died under your command, right?"

"They died to make sure the Maw wouldn't be able to control the Galaxy."

"I wonder if all your citizens feel the same way. They tell me you're making some sort of play at a Democracy. Well, it'll be interesting to see if you actually mean it..." Moya trailed, disappointment crossing her features.

"Because Democracy involves listening to the will of the people. What if the people decide they don't want to fight those threats? What if they decide they don't even want to continue the feud with the Jedi? Where does that leave you, except someone with the means and hatred, yet utterly unable to wage the war you wish to wage because your people won't support it? They aren't like you, Xiphos. They can't keep their hatred and disgust with the Order going 24/007 the way you can. At some point, their will or yours will give. One way or the other. And for some strange reason, I cannot imagine a future where you're willing to let this House continue if it won't fight the Jedi Order."

"I was fighting The Order way before I had a House. There will always be ways to conduct war against the Jedi Order. A million proxies to harass them."

"Are you even listening to yourself?!" Moya said in disbelief. "You're gonna kill these people, Laertia. You're going to get them all killed."

"You can let me worry about that. Hell, that's what you've been doing the past ten years!" Xiphos hissed bitterly.

"Here it comes..." Moya muttered.

"How's life as a fugitive, by the way?" Xiphos sneered cruelly, throwing her predicament in her face, ten years of feelings over Moya boiling over. "I'm sure being moral, and righteous has been serving you in Denon of all places. Did they pat you on the back for leaving me? Or are they just interested in stringing you up and taking you apart? You're welcome by the way, for the safehouse on Denon."

Her spider legged Bacta tank crawled to Moya.

"Only reason you've even been able to catch your breath is because I make examples of the ones who try to chase you! Otherwise you'd probably be in a fething Imperial Research Center getting dissected!" Xiphos snapped, grateful the Bacta hid the tears.

"And it's that part of you that I'm still trying to appeal to. Not the rest of you. The part of you I failed..." Moya begged, putting her hand on the transparent case.

Xiphos stared at her.

"Why couldn't you have stayed?" Xiphos asked quietly, grief in her voice. "Didn't it ever occur to you that maybe I might not have been willing to go so far if...if you..."

Xiphos went quiet. Moya didn't see a Sith Lord suddenly, but a broken woman literally trapped by her own decisions panicking and flaying about as she metaphorically drowned, alone, wanting simpler times. Wanting pets and movie nights. Wanting to beg someone, anyone to pull her out and break the cage...

...yet too proud to ask, convinced drowning was better than breathing air with those she detested with all her being.

"I am not your failure...Moya..." Xiphos said. "You didn't convince Laertia to turn her back on all she stood for..."

Xiphos backed off, the tank rotating so she was facing Moya, unable to look due to grief.

"...I did..." Xiphos admitted seconds later (OBI-WAAAAANNNNNN: 7000 XP), very quietly...

Xiphos sighed.

"You are, of course, free to leave at your own request..." Xiphos added before her tank crawled to her Armor. A stricken Moya was escorted out of the chamber by the Model 1 a minute later...

Present.

Xiphos could not help but mull over her conversation with Moya as Alessandra Io posed her question. Especially since Moya was in the crowd, in an isolated section under Model 1 escort close by Lancelot Io .

Xiphos paused a moment. She thought about it.

"Everyone in this room..." Xiphos began slowly, standing up hesitantly. The armor was a godsend.

"Everyone knows...that I have offered many justifications for many of the things I have done over the years. I am not blind to what I see around here. Tython incurred a devastating price. On all of you." she said, Alessandra's face reflected in the visor.

"And for those who survived...the price was higher than death." Xiphos said quietly.

"A large part of me...larger than any of you probably has any reason to believe the size of at the moment...wants to scream to you that it wasn't worth it. That all the blood we shed on foreign soil was a meaningless, wasteful expenditure, bringing unnecessary pain and hardship to this Faction. We lost Multiple Destroyers and Battle Cruisers, each filled with thousands. All of that blood, all of it, can be laid directly at my feet...I cost you all, asked you to make more terrible sacrifices. Delayed the ambition of this faction. Part of me wants to scream that to you. To scream that we should never have gotten involved..."

Xiphos's fist clenched.

"But a larger part of me...that part...that part very much believes in the necessity of fighting there. In fighting the Maw. If they had won, it would have been an unqualified disaster not just for our society, but others not aligned with the SJC or the Alliance. If they had won, the other militaries might not have retained the strength to repel their push for the core worlds. A Maw Brotherhood getting their hands on the reigns of power in the Core Worlds? They would be extremely difficult for anyone to dislodge at that point. It would only have made their horrific campaigns even easier to carry out, on worlds very much like the ones that were taken from you." she reminded them.

She looked around the room. It was quiet.

"With the Maw now struggling to retain it's holdings, and everyone now refocusing on them harder than ever, this gives our House the breathing room it needs to recover from Tython. They'll blow every last credit they can spare to defeat them, and the Maw will make them pay for every inch in blood, exhausting each other, making their territory more vulnerable to infiltration everywhere, as well as making them less able to focus on problem areas like the Scar Worlds. We can rebuild our numbers. We will rebuild our numbers, and recoup, at the very least, much of our financial losses. But economic losses, ultimately pale in comparison to the personal ones..."

She was silent a moment, letting everyone process what she said.

"But even as I tell you, Alessandra, that yes, I do believe Tython was worth it, that we have, in spite of everything, obtained a considerable tactical advantage over all these larger powers that we can exploit on a concrete level...I also must concede that there must never be another Tython. That we must change our approach, not just to low intensity conflict, but to major naval operations altogether. I planned Tython as I said. I will burn for it."

At the moment, Maple Harte , recently converted to a full Sith as Darth Strelok, decloaked next to Galahad.

"Got that fething right..." Strelok muttered, popping a stick of gum into her mouth.

She chuckled softly.

"Not that I got room to talk..." Strelok joked darkly, followed by a darker chuckle. "Hiya, Nephew. Archives treating you good?"



Akemi Io

 

[Dev Ossian]

With his amazingly capable neuromesh brain, Galahad was able to focus on multiple things at once. He took notes on his datapad, writing them down by hand with a stylus in place of a pen. Other Neutralizers had questioned why he bothered to use such antiquated technology, but something about the process of physical writing appealed to him in a way that typing and coding did not. If he could get away with it, he might even write on flimisplast—or, if lumber were not in short supply, parchment paper.

He analyzed the broadcast of the interview with Alevia, taking note of the Neutralizer’s unusual retinue of Draelvasier (a gift from the Brain Demon, perhaps?). It was widely speculated that Alevia was bought and paid for, though such opinions were typically held by those who couldn’t process why anyone would willingly swear allegiance to the Brain Demon. He supposed there was a possibility her programming had been tampered with… which bode ill for all Neutralizers.

Alessandra announced that she agreed with Lance, then spoke of a ‘memetic infection’. Galahad scribbled it down, followed by a big question mark. The next part of her words, bringing up the topic of religious freedom, troubled Galahad deeply.

But rather than respond to Alessandra directly, he decided to take the matter before the panel, standing up and getting in line to speak.

While he waited, Maple Harte—now known as Darth Strelok—suddenly decloaked beside him.

"Hiya, Nephew. Archives treating you good?"

“Just fine, thank you,” Galahad replied without looking up from his datapad. He finally tucked the device under his arm once it was his turn to speak to the panel.

“My questions are somewhat complex, I’m afraid, though I will try to be brief.

“The first is for Darth Xiphos. We rushed to the defense of Tython, the Jedi homeworld, and while I take no issue with your explanation for this, it has created some confusion given our recent attack upon the Silver Rest, a civilian holding affiliated with the Silver Jedi. Do you still take responsibility for the attack upon the Silver Rest, and consider it a worthwhile effort?”

He heard some murmuring from the crowd at his words, and sensed a palpable tension in the Chamber. House Io had always been… undefined. Exceedingly tolerant from a religious perspective, the civilian populace consisted of a mish-mash of different cultures and beliefs and philosophies, united only by their hatred of most major factions. Galahad and other Chaplains had come to appreciate the cultural richness of the House. But now the friction between all these differing ways of life and schools of thought was becoming more and more apparent. Galahad could see only one solution before the situation deteriorated into chaos.

House Io needed to pick a side.

“My second question is, in some ways, directly related to my first. Given recent events, such as the attack upon the Silver Rest and the forced conversion and absorption of Citizen Rebecca Io into the Cult of the Brain Demon, is House Io now an official Sith faction?”

More murmuring. Some of it sounded indignant. Galahad stood ready to debate should anyone step up to argue against the validity of his points. It would be nothing compared to the difficulty and pain of potentially having to go up against Mother.

Alessandra Io Laertia Io Akemi Io Draco Miles​

 

[Alessandra Io]

Location: Chamber of Midas, Midas - Khemost
Attire: Magenta and White Kimono
Dialogue Legend: <<Technopathy Link>> │ “Verbal”
Equipment: G1 OmniLink │ House Io Citizen Energy Sword, Type 4

Was Tython worth it?

Like all Nuetralizers, it was one of Alessandra’s core objectives to destroy the Maw. However, the Chaplain hated the fact that the Alliance and its allies had benefited from her family spilling so much blood over objectives that ultimately should have been handled by the Alliance. The naval battle had been particularly bloody, with the House Io fleet being exposed to the fire of a dreadnought with ships that could hardly render a scratch upon the beast. It was clear that the tactics had never been sound, but were rather, insane.

At the very least, Alessandra was happy to hear the Matriarch’s acknowledgement of the scale of the disaster at Tython. The Chaplain had not lost faith in her mother, but she knew that there would need to be sweeping changes to the command structure. Perhaps there could be more authority vested in veteran Nuetralizers, those who had many battles worth of experience ranging from the Third Imperial Civil War to the campaigns against the Bryn'adûl. However, Alessandra knew that she didn’t have all the answers.

“Thank you, Mother.” Alessandra gave a soft smile in spite of the gravity of the situation. “I am pleased that you recognize the loss that Tython represented for so many of our brothers and sisters.” She continued. “We can acknowledge that there were mistakes, but I believe that I am not alone in saying that my faith in your leadership is not lost, Mother. I and many others will continue working to heal our family so that it may emerge stronger from this disaster.” The Chaplain finished, before floating back from the recessed pit, though she didn’t return to her seat.

With that, Alessandra listened silently as Galahad Io delivered his questions, drawing murmurs from the assembled citizens as he spoke.

“My second question is, in some ways, directly related to my first. Given recent events, such as the attack upon the Silver Rest and the forced conversion and absorption of Citizen Rebecca Io into the Cult of the Brain Demon, is House Io now an official Sith faction?”

For her part, Alessandra didn’t hesitate to address his points.

“Brother, we are a faction defined by religious freedom. We have always struck our own path, separate from the endless wars waged between Dark and Light.” She began.

“Would you have us join the Jedi in prosecuting their meaningless struggle against the very Force that enables their existence?”

Percival Io Akemi Io Draco Miles Delilah Io Galahad Io ​

 

[Dev Ossian]

Alessandra was the first to object.

“Brother, we are a faction defined by religious freedom. We have always struck our own path, separate from the endless wars waged between Dark and Light. Would you have us join the Jedi in prosecuting their meaningless struggle against the very Force that enables their existence?”

“Not at all. I am suggesting quite the opposite,” Galahad replied. His tone and manner remained polite and civil. He had nothing against Alessandra, even if he believed she was quite wrong in her convictions. “

“Barring the lack of a solid legal definition of religion, House Io has never practiced true religious freedom. If that were the case, we would permit Jedi among our ranks, provided they renounced their loyalties to enemy factions. But we have never done this.

“Even if we did, it would be impossible to avoid the self-perpetuating conflict of which you speak, and for good reason—no civilization has ever survived while harboring both a religious institution whose core tenets include defending the innocent, and another institution whose rites involve sacrificing the innocent. To even attempt such would be asking for profound social unrest, if not civil war.”

He turned to face Xiphos and the rest of the council. “Putting that matter aside: if we are not involved in the feuds between Jedi and Sith, why are we led by a Darth, and why did we attack a Jedi stronghold filled with younglings—?”

Several Citizens in the crowd interrupted him with jeers and boos. “Fake news!” one man bellowed. “There were no dead younglings! Jedi propaganda!”

Galahad was forced to raise his voice in order to be heard over the uproar.

“It seems to me that we are already a Sith faction in all but name. We need not engage in the pointless destruction of the Brotherhood or the petty cruelties of the Sith Empire, but let’s not mince words about it. Every person sitting at the Table, save Sister Lyssa, is currently affiliated with the Sith.”

Alessandra Io Laertia Io Akemi Io Draco Miles​

 

[The Battalion]

"I do still take full responsibility for the attack on The Silver Rest." Xiphos confirmed. "But that attack was not random. It was not done in a complete fit of spite, though I freely confess to spite playing a large factor. There was a military objective I was trying to fulfill. A distraction for an operation I had to carry out within its space. I can't disclose the full details of said operation, however. But the attack on the Silver Rest had purposes in both the political and psychological. An attack in the very heart of their territory exposes weakness. Naturally, they will try to over correct to prevent another attack. But I just need them good and paranoid for now, waiting for another attack that may or may not come. That may or may not be larger than the first."

Xiphos looked over the audience. She frowned at the outcries of fake news.

"That isn't fake news. There were younglings killed in the attack." Xiphos corrected loudly and immediately. The Populace could never be under any illusion about what sort of leader they had. It would do them both a disservice if they started misattributing nobility or restraint where there wasn't any in a given action she may or may not take.

"But part of it was very much carrying out my promise to hold them accountable in blood for the unrestrained severity of the Brynadul expansion." she said. "The Jedi Order is just as guilty as the Brynadul and the Maw for the current state of the Galaxy. If it's our goal to punish those who brought such unremitting destruction, its also our duty to punish those who enabled it with the same severity. Why should they enjoy victory? Why should they be permitted even a moment's respite? And the kicker of it is that just one temple is barely a drop in the bucket. The assets they managed to flush out are proxies, people we hired. People we expected them to find. They still have not located the ones they really needed to find."

At the second question, the Battalion found herself speaking.

"I can answer that, Galahad..." she said. "As you all know, this House was finanaced, founded by, and led by Sith. However, I should stress that we made a very clear point, and even Amy, who is and remains a murderous psychopath, agreed to the point that being an official "Sith" faction would simply create way too many more problems than it would solve."

She folded her hands, addressing her favorite step son.

"The Cult of the Brain Demon, while classified as Sith, have always had their own ideas of how the Dark Side should function in society. We were perfectly content in the past to operate in would be empires, but given the era we live in, over time we have come to the conclusion that an imperial means of spreading the Dark Side is no longer practical. It's outdated, frankly. Which brings us to our next issue."

"Rebecca." The Amalgam added.

"Ordinarily..." The Battalion said. "Conversion of a Civilian like Rebecca is not ordinarily done in this matter. We prefer to let Civialns choose the Dark Side of their own volition."

"But it is true what many of you have heard..." The Amalgam "The Unholy Spirit did intervene on the House's behalf at Tython. She intervened because Xiphos has been the single most powerful and reliable ally this Cult has ever had and because after all she has done to integrate this Cult into the House despite having every single reason to want to destroy us and me personally, it couldn't possibly allow for all that to go unrewarded. Rebecca's act of sheer will in being ready to die to stop the Avatar singled her out for the honor of becoming one with the Cult. It was the Brain Demon's only true price for her intervention in both space and on Tython's surface.*

Xiphos struggled not to flinch as she felt Darth Phyre speaking from deep within The Amalgam inside her skull.

See? I'm being considerate. I'm not letting on that it was the Faith your son instilled in Rebecca.

"We had no idea that would happen." The Battalion clarified.

"If it means anything, I did try and persuade The Unholy Spirit to convert Xiphos instead, but The Brain Demon insisted on Rebecca..." The Amalgam said to Percival directly. "But let me assure everyone present. Rebecca's forced conversion is the sort that will never occur again. Her sacrifice is a living physical pact of this Cult's unity to House Io, meant to symbolically 'wed' us to you all. To make your struggles ours. To make your enemies ours. Rebecca is meant to be the sign that this cult no longer maintains a mere truce. That we are no longer a part of you solely because of our arrangements, our history, with Darth Xiphos. We are a part of you now because we, like you, are in it to win it."

"Which brings us back to why we must not be a 'Sith' Faction, as you understand it. As most of you understand it." The Battalion interjected. "Being a 'Sith' Faction makes us far too easy to predict. It would inevitably lead us down rules of engagement and enforcement which would ossify the House, and make it easier for factions not aligned to our enemies to close themselves off to us. Everybody knows we hate Jedi, everybody knows we have been at war with them for more than half a decade for what they enabled. But everyone also knows we have not behaved like typical Sith Factions would have. Not in most cases."

"Remember, The Cult of The Brain Demon was the only faction of Sith that tried to prevent the Destruction of Csilla and Tython. Successfully in Tython's case. Innocents always die where the Cult is involved, but we are not an institution dedicated to the sacrifice of innocents. Innocents are sacrificed as a side effect of our true work, which is the exaltation of the Dark Side. So when I say that Rebecca being exalted and raised to glory was nothing personal, or when I say that, murdering an entire village in enemy territory is nothing personal, you know I'm telling the truth." The Amalgam claimed to Percival directly.

(Cutaway of The Joker hanging upside down while laughing)

"But our covenant with The House is rock solid. No Citizen need ever fear a Cultist in public or private. We take our food from other sources."

Moya was fething wide-eyed at the madness she had just heard. That it seemed to just be...accepted...by so many just truly cemented how divorced from typical morality the Populace was.

"The dichotomies in our government and culture are not so alien to one another as you might be inclined to think. Every society has people that represent it at its best, and worst, and every society makes use of both elements to get what it needs. We just happen to be a society that admits this fact freely and attempts to work with it openly. To have both extremes to call on as necessary, to adapt to ever changing circumstances. We have a very useful niche in this House as both its Terror and Intelligence wing. Some of the House's greatest victories came because of how bloody and savage we have been willing to act as on its behalf." The Battalion asserted. "The House was as tolerant as we could possibly make it when it came to religion. The Jedi and Mawite faiths are the only ones we outlawed, which I think, was very reasonable given the circumstances--"

"But in short. No. We are not and have no plans to be a true Sith Faction, despite our leadership and professions. With the sole exception of the Foundation Stone that is The Deluge, no other Citizen with ever be Forcibly converted into a Brain Demon Cultist. The Dark Side is very important. And yes, it absolutely should be practiced, but we should not make it a mandate for Citizens to practice. Everyone starts thinking the same on everything you sow the seeds for your own downfall." The Amalgam asserted. "And I want to stress right now that my leadership is solely of the Cult and select operations. I have no interest in leading the House itself, and, if nominated, would not accept."

Akemi Io

Percival Io

Alessandra Io

 

[Akemi Io]

Communication "verbal" <<technopathy>>

Objective: Conference time
Tag: Alessandra Io Percival Io Laertia Io

Loadout:
Loralora interceptor swoop
Gei Borugu Electro Spear
Light Saber (peony colour blade)
Laser Lance
Q7 encrypted data-spike

House Io modelled itself as a modern, technologically advanced and enlightened civilisation on the surface, but today proved to her that they we not even close to that, squabbling over something like religion and which side of the force they were on? Were the still stuck in the dark ages. She did not respond to these arguments, the force was an energy field, gods were just powerful manipulators of that field and you could literally walk the place the organics defined as heaven if you found the right portal. If they wanted to tear the house apart over different metaphysical delusions, they could, it was not her fight. It didn't help her annoyance that as droids, the force was not even a tool that was typically something they used.

What was her fight was the safety of her brothers and sister in the different ranks of the house. She listened to mothers rationale about Tython, then about Silver's rest. Why couldn't she tell them? Didn't she trust them? The only pattern she could see was violence for the sake of violence. She finally spoke up.

"Before my creation, you waged war on the Bryn'adul as they attacked the Silvers, the Bryn victories had no impact on us as a space borne civilisation.

Then you waged a war based on personal vengeance against the Ashlan Crusade, culminating in a massive attack in order to preserve Korriban, again before I was built.

Then there are the wars against the Mawites at Csilla and Tython where we laid down our lives to defend Galactic alliance territorial claims, putting ourself right at the front of battles that did not involve us.

Add to that the apparent front against the Silvers which we can't know about.

It feels to me that you don't care who dies.... as long as it is US?"

Akemi had felt the deaths of her brothers and sisters as there presense disappeared from the House Io network, vast swathes felt like a digital ghost town to her at the moment and many of those matrices were lost too far before her creation of UNITY for her to recover. She looked at Alessandra Io for support, only she knew how hard Akemi had truly taken the damage to her digital community and her own experiences made her the best person to understand her pain.

​

[/QUOTE]

 

[Dev Ossian]

Those in the crowd who had called the deaths of younglings fake news abruptly fell silent as Xiphos confirmed the truth of what they had been denying. The silence turned strange among their ranks, even as the rest of the crowds continued to murmur.

They were the younger generations, children of parents who had joined House Io. Teenagers and young adults now, they were mostly untested. They had been raised to believe that Xiphos was noble, that the cause of the House was just, and that they held the moral high ground in a galaxy of murderers and thieves.

But now they had just heard that their beloved House had killed children and youths close in age to them. Non-combatants, too young to hold a blaster or a lightsaber. Too small to pose a real threat.

Some would accept the news and continue on. Others would begin to question everything they had been taught. But no matter what, everything had changed for them at that moment.

Percival felt an ache in the black hole maker he called a heart. But his dovin basal nodes couldn’t override the programmed loyalty to the House written in every fold of his brain. He had no choice.

While the Battalion endeavored to answer Galahad’s question, the Amalgam spoke not to him, but to Percival directly. The Chaplain didn’t know what it was like to feel pain, but he imagined that every word from her mouth was like a thorn in his flesh.

What was she even doing here? She was supposed to be banished from the House, yet they had invited her to sit in spirit at their table. To have a say in how things were run. To speak like this to Percival’s face, while the abomination who wore Rebecca’s face sat in the row in front of him…

“If that is the case, I suggest you expand the leadership pool to include non-Sith,” Galahad suggested, evidently satisfied with the answers he had received. Not because he agreed with them, but they had served their purpose of clearing the air. “Otherwise, the scales are tipped too far to one side. We may say we are not a Sith faction, but our enemies will see who leads us, assume we are lying, and target us anyway—”

Percival suddenly leaped to his feet. Producing a concealed ion blaster, he fired it at the machine projecting the Amalgam’s hologram.

A wide-eyed Lance swiftly grabbed his arm, potentially causing the shot to miss. Either way, neither Organic nor Neutralizer was harmed. The blaster was knocked from Percival’s hand and clattered to the floor.

“Percival!” his brother hissed. Percival did not respond, staring straight ahead even as Lance dragged him out of the Chamber.

Still standing at the podium, Galahad froze upon hearing the shot behind him. After turning around and realizing what had happened, he faced the committee with an awkward and ashamed expression. “I… apologize for my copy’s poor conduct. He has been… emotionally compromised by recent events,” he said before stepping down to let Akemi take the floor.

The Fixer asked an impassioned question, one that was likely on everyone’s minds. But Galahad’s thoughts were far away as he returned to his seat without either of his brothers beside him.

Alessandra Io Laertia Io Akemi Io Draco Miles​

 

[Alessandra Io]

Location: Chamber of Midas, Midas - Khemost
Attire: Magenta and White Kimono
Dialogue Legend: <<Technopathy Link>> │ “Verbal”
Equipment: G1 OmniLink │ House Io Citizen Energy Sword, Type 4

A tension lingered in the air after Percival’s attempt to silence the machine which projected the hologram of the Amalgam, before Alessandra cut through it, her eerily-serene voice carrying throughout the chamber.

“During the campaigns against the Bryn'adûl we killed thousands, if not millions of Draelvasier, Vaydralen, Akhenathon, and Ungulloi younglings and in fact, have continued to kill as standard practice in the ongoing operations to purge their remnants from the Scar Worlds. These facts are not classified and never have been.” Alessandra spoke up.

“Our purges of Jedi younglings were no different, in that regard.” The Chaplain continued, without missing a beat. “To those harboring doubts, I must remind you of our tenets. Precept 10: ‘War is Cruelty. There is no use in trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it's over.’”

There was a heavy pause as some of those in the chamber, particularly a few of the organic citizens, absorbed the Chaplain’s words, which were quoted directly from the tenets.

“And Precept 11: ‘Total War is often preferable to half measures against particularly vicious enemies.” She continued. “Do the Jedi and the Maw not qualify as ‘particularly vicious enemies’?”

Her point delivered, Alessandra yielded the floor in order to let the Matriarch answer her sister’s questions.

Percival Io Akemi Io Draco Miles Delilah Io Galahad Io ​

 

[The Deluge]

Wearing Mother's Flesh (Brain Demon Catsuit)

Armed With: Parental Rights (Double Bladed Lightsaber. Red)

"That is not true!" Xiphos protested. "The lives of every citizen lost in the conflicts this House has taken part in matter! They matter because their sacrifices changed the Galaxy! They matter because the ones who gave their lives at Tython, not to help the Alliance, not to help our enemies, but did so to prevent The Maw from gaining a victory that would have placed the entire Galaxy in danger if their push to the Core hadn't been stymied!"

Xiphos paced a bit. "The importance of your research, your projects are not lost on me. The pain you feel from this battle, this one battle, is the same pain I live with every time I lose a Nuetralizer. Every. Time. Its worse than a knife. Worse than having your heart ripped out."

Xiphos felt pain on a new level, and fear that this was the start of a schism between her and her children. The rage of Akemi Io hurt especially, as Akemi was such an innocent little demigod who only ever wanted to provide a means for her brothers and sisters to live eternally. But the nature of the House had just frustrated that in a major way.

"I am not ignorant as to what my actions cost those you tried to preserve, but I would never have done it, if I hadn't thought Tython didn't present the best chance of disrupting the Maw's campaign, and a victory for them at Tython, without us doing everything we could to prevent that victory, would have only doomed this faction down the road. At this point, all I can do is reiterate that there will never be another Tython."

Xiphos then listened to Galahad's comments.

"Nothing is stopping the ascension of Citizens to even the highest tiers of office. But you are right: we totally need more than Sith calling all the shots."

The Deluge raised an eyebrow at Xiphos' behavior. Xiphos stood by what she did, monsterous as it was, yet was fully willing to conceed the need for alterations to House Leadership and changes to Military Doctrine. The Deluge wondered if it was genuine agreement on Xiphos' part or because it was the sheer pragmatic need to avoid a Civil War and because Xiphos was betting on the idea that the Sith part of the Leadership would still be turned to to for the real problems.

She turned to watch the reaction of the Triplets of the Black Knight. Percival was effing pissed as the Amalgam spoke. She pitied him. Someday, he would understand she had gained so much more than she had lost. But he was not ready to accept the Unholy Spirit.

Xiphos watched in surprise as Percival Io produced a blaster and fired at the machine, heavily damaging it.

What had Percival expected? The Amalgam...Phyre...was one of the founding members of the House. She had played an intimate part in the execution of Tython. She couldn't not be here, not just because she was still the leader of the Cult, but because XIphos needed her to declare unequivocly that she had no intent to sieze control of the House, as some wanted. Percival just wasn't ready to accept that for his Mother, good and evil were just two sides of the same coin that she had every intent to spend on something she wanted.

The Deluge quietly rose as Alessandra Io reminded everyone that it wasn't as if Xiphos had ever tried to hide how brutal she was, nor how uncompromising her approach was to enemies. If anything, Rebecca Hahn had met people who joined precisely because Xiphos never tried to downplay how awful the stuff she was willing to do was to get what she wanted. They found it "refreshing" that she wouldn't lie to them, even if it made her look very bad.

She followed Lancelot and Percy out of the chamber.

Percival had a blank murder stare. It was sooooooo obvious to everyone he was gunning for Amy.

"Percy dear..." the Deluge called out quietly, almost serenely in her expression. The last remants of Rebecca Hahn walking up to him, running a white gloved hand against his face.

"You shouldn't let The Amalgam get to you like that. Now that she knows she can anger you, she can provoke you into a mistake. And she provoked you into a severe one in that chamber...everyone knows you have a bias now, as absurd as that must sound." The Deluge explained. "Ancient Maxim: If your enemy is of choleric temper, seek to anger him."

She didn't remember where she had heard it, but Denithel had told her the phrase, when she had still been human, and she had said it to Percival once, immediately after Denithel's funeral, because it had been one of the few things he said at the time, that had stuck with her. She hadn't known why she fixated on that. She just couldn't help remembering it so clearly.

"You need to destress. I know! Come to my apartment! You can vent while I care for Thel." she suggested. "You can't do anymore good here. You'll only hurt your own cause if you stay."

 

[Percival Io]

Outside the Chamber of Midas, Lance pulled Percival off to one side. <<Why did you do that?>> he demanded, communicating with technopathy to avoid anyone nearby overhearing him. <<You know there’s no point. You silence her for a few minutes by destroying the machine, they’ll just bring in a replacement. And now everyone knows you want to kill the Amalgam!>>

Percival didn’t respond. He just continued to stare blankly into the distance, his expression a mask concealing the boiling emotions within.

Lance grabbed the back of his neck, trying to force Percival to link with him. That at least got Percival to react, shoving his brother away with an almost homicidal glare. “How dare you,” he growled.

“You won’t listen, and you won’t answer,” Lance persisted. “What you do doesn’t just affect you, Percival—it affects all of us. You’re putting everyone else at risk…”

Lance trailed off as The Deluge approached. His eyes widened. For a few seconds, she was the very image of Rebecca Hahn. Her face, her walk, her voice—all of it was instantly recognizable, shining through her even while clad in a cultist’s white catsuit.

She made straight for Percival. At the touch of her white-gloved hand against his cheek and the inviting tone of her words, the Chaplain shivered, a strange mix of revulsion and longing galvanizing him.

“I have no intention of going back in there, don’t worry.” Reaching up to clasp the Deluge’s hand, he held it tightly. “Let’s go.”

Lance could only stand and watch in shock as the pair left together. Once they disappeared from view, he hurried back into the Chamber, resuming his seat beside Galahad.

<<Percival went with… her,>> he told his brother privately.

Galahad nodded his head, still focused on the meeting. <<There’s nothing more we can do. He has to come to terms with this on his own.>>