Campaign In Pursuit of Ghosts | NIO Imperial Knights

[IMPCOM]

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I M P E R I A L _ K N I G H T S
I N _ P U R S U I T _ O F _ G H O S T S

THE OUTER RIM​

MALA​

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Mala. It was a storied world, as desolate as it was it'd meant that many ignored its blip on many holomaps but all the same, Mala was a site paramount to Galactic history. The very planet which played venue to the fall of darkness. The end of the Sith before the onset of the Gulag Plague.

The Battle of The Floating World. It was the very triumph which defined the Imperial Knights in the implication of their victory here. Since? They'd lost all the ground gained. The Sith returned and by now had swelled into a tyrannical Empire bent on the snuffing of the light. If the Imperial Knights had any hope of claiming a similar triumph, they'd need to unearth the lessons of the past. In pursuit of the very man who'd served as the catalyst to this moment.

Darth Wredd. An Imperial Knight seduced by the darkness. But in the darkness, he sought to bring about its end. In his insurgency following the Second-Imperial Civil War and the formation of the Galactic Federation Triumvirate, Wredd embarked on a crusade to bring about the end of the One Sith, to bring about a fall to the darkness. He succeeded though the Triumvirate brought him down alongside the One Sith and in the end, darkness had fallen.

Word had emerged in whispers of an esoteric group, a cult shrouded in darkness on the hunt for a holocron that had coalesced around the knowledge of Darth Wredd. Though he might've been marked crestfallen to the dark side he had seen through the death of many Sith and had become the hunter of a creed who'd never known the frigid paralyzing reality of being the hunted and in his last moments, swore that the Sith must end once and for all.

If there was any place to start, it would be Mala. The site of Wredd's beginning and end. Among the desolate landscapes the hulks and shattered skeletons of immense star destroyers and other vessels protrude from the scorched surface, a world long wiped of any natural life after the One Sith unleashed a horrible weapon unto its surface.

In a fanatic worship to the enigmatic vision of Wredd, a cult has collalesced in secret here. The 'Scions of Annihilation'. Though far from New Imperial space, within the ruins of long derelict space hulks, the Imperial Force Corps has embarked on an expedition to investigate in the hopes of reclaiming the Holocron of Darth Wredd and harnessing whatever knowledge embedded within that might help them in their fight against the Sith.

KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
THE FORCE IS OUR WEAPON​

Spoiler: Knights of The Empire | NIO

Imperial Warlord Zovesa
Rurik Fel
Lambert Vasari
Bastard
Jekadius Lawson
Dorian Sicarrio
Mavia
Voren Lef
Castian Vero
Daiman Zannen
Arianna Sarreti
Corran Watts

 

[Rurik Fel]

Armor | Lightsaber | The Vane
​

R U R I K _ W Y M A R
C O L L E C T O R

This was a place which had sent protrusions of foreboding even through the mortal shell of the Knight Commander, a man whose presence had crystallized into an unbreakable frigidness after he'd peered into The Twilight, facing down Kascalion Giedfield amidst the iron rain on the derelict world which served as the venue to the Eternal Empire's betrayal of the Sith.

Even if the tales of Wredd, the Fel, the One Sith were all far sung legend by now, it was knowledge that could be unearthed of use today. Whatever the alignment and goals of the New Imperial Order were in truth, Rurik could only sympathize with his crestfallen brother of old. The Sith...must perish. Whatever the cost. If the so called 'Scions of Annihilation' served as the guardians to a holocron posessing the knowledge he'd held, posessing even an inkling to what Wredd channeled to snuff out the One Sith from the Galaxy in finality, the Imperial Knights must have it. Even if it would eventually be placed deep into their reliquary come Civil War's end, it would be wholly instrumental.

Whatever the retinue assembled here was, it was many redeemed from darkness, wayward from the light but regardless, they were untested in the eyes of the Order. This would be no better venue to temper the mettle of these Knights. In the shadow of a long derelict Imperious-class Star Destroyer, likely the make of the Fel Empire in-exile following the formation of the Galactic Federation Triumvirate, the retinue approached. At the sight of the last stand of the Sith, it would be no better first choice to investigate.

"If they have any presence here...it is a shadow. The force is our weapon, Knights. And thus, the tool of the hunter. Use it to reach out and find them if you must, for this malfeasance, whatever it is...is surely lurking here." Rurik stated coldly as the hollow and dead wastes around them became more cluttered with the jagged scraps of the space hulk.

 

[Corran Watts]

Peeps: Rurik Fel
Equipment: Lightsaber Armor

Far removed from the cold mountains and frigid frost-lands that was Kabaira, he found himself on another desolate planet, albeit one of a different nature. This place, this dark and rocky husk of what was allegedly a once booming planet, was nothing more than a floating rock that held nothing but horrifying memories. Ben had learned quickly to suppress those tinglings at the back of his head that he still could not fully understand. Though the force flowed through him, he had only barely begun to scratch the surface of what its abilities could offer, and the Imperial Knights were the vessel through which he would gain control of his abilities. Until he understood them, he did as instructed, and he did not dabble in things he did not understand. Which, admittedly, was most of it.

He oft wondered what the all mighty Ben Watts would think of his joining of the New Imperial Order. Considering his father had spent the bulk part of his life fighting people just like this he doubted he would approve. He scoffed at the thought of his fathers approval and wondered if there was anything he would ever approve of in the first place. How could one live up to the man who had lead the Galactic Republic Jedi Order during its prime? An often forgotten blurb that he left out was the fact that he was the Jedi Grandmaster when his home world, Coruscant, fell to the One Sith. How ironic that Corran was on the quest for an item left by a member of the One Sith.

"If they have any presence here...it is a shadow. The force is our weapon, Knights. And thus, the tool of the hunter. Use it to reach out and find them if you must, for this malfeasance, whatever it is...is surely lurking here."

Corran glanced his helmeted head up at Rurik Fel and hesitated to say anything. The power the man exuded was so vast that Corran wondered how it was possible. He felt so weak in comparison to him, but that was a feeling he had grown quite accustomed to in his life, his father exuded the same energy. The force was their weapon..... Corran shifted in his armor that still felt clunky on him. It was nice that they could not see his face but he was used to more.... freeing clothing. But, this was what was required, and he did as he was told. A good soldier followed orders and that is what he was, a soldier.

"What exactly do you expect us to find, Master?" He spoke softly to the man, timidly almost, but he had to have grown used to it by now. Though he was soft spoken that should not be taken to mean he was weak. His combat prowess far outweighed his timid nature and he preferred it that way. Language through his blade was how he preferred to talk. Instinctively his hand scraped over the hilt of his lightsaber, the itch to ignite it and carve his path into the history books was reverberating from within.

 

[Daiman Zannen]

Zannen.

A family name steeped in service to agencies and governments that stretched across the expanses of space itself. Be roles big or small, each man or woman made stride to further push or promote Imperial rule. Daiman was no exception to this. His namesake stretched back as far as the Galactic Empire old. What was left of it now could only be found in public records, holonet articles and of course New Imperial Order libraries. From his youth he was poised to observe galactic history. Its peaks, valleys and flat lands that engulfed the timeline. He devoured it.

A maw in the dark absorbing the primeval knowledge of old. For if anything was true it was this; History was predestined to repeat itself. His life was dedicated to the growth of the cause of the New Imperial Order. Where once he was a fetching young navy crewman with an monstrous appetite for achievement, Here now he stood as a full fledged Imperial Knight.

" If the presence of such a shadow is present, then Mala is already shifting its scales into balance." A spectacle of a smile came into scene. Years of training with his Imperial brethren had forged a man that had aged excellently. A dashing visage peering into the wastelands, The man unlike his peers sported a combative bodysuit that almost seemed to adhere to his form perfectly. A fine specimen of Human anatomy. Pristine in make up. Daiman was without blemish or flaw as far as physical traits were concerned.

" For together we are here to admonish Justice, are we not? Imperial Justice at that." A faint red colored glove rose from his side forming a fist. The motion corresponding with the eagerness he felt within like a undying storm that brewed. The hurricane was for the moment being, at rest, the calm before the storm. Sky blue eyes that observed the terrains of Mala spoke of Hope, balance and law. At the surface a tempest of controlled emotion: Such as he was trained. And yet as Daiman finished stretching out with his feelings in search of this shadow, the waters of his being stirred deep in the abyss.

His leather gloved fist closed tighter and tighter. The Imperial Knight had scratched the surface of the depths. Temptation was it allure. Raw ambition. He had heard its call but gave no clear reaction. Instead the taut friction of his glove sounded as if to allude a hazy future of incoming battle. Levitating his self off the ground slightly for a better vantage point and also, perhaps in his own way, exalt himself above his adjacent peers. He couldn't help but end his commentary and wave the hurricane in his being into motion as it touched the outside of the abyss on Mala. He sought to ascend and in the splinter of minds eye, He did.

" Indeed. The force is a weapon. Powerful it may be... We bring with us Order and balance. We stand as judge, we stand as jury and we stand as executioner. We serve and nothing more. " Daiman paused letting a slight expression of enjoyment show before tempering his passion for what would eventually come and then masking it. He chose he words carefully. Something that briefly may perhaps of warranted some concern, If one did notice it. " For the Order! For our sovereign Imperator! For the New Imperial Rule!" His expression softened greatly after wards as he sought reaction from the peers around him with a dashingly smug smile.

 

[Castian Vero]

Folks: Rurik Fel | Corran Watts | Daiman Zannen
Objective: Be the hunter

They stepped out of the transport and Izes was immediately hit with it.

That feeling of foreboding.

The Force around them shifted, warned, this would not be a milk run and it tried to push them back. Go back... there is nothing for you here. But an Imperial Knight did not let himself be guided by the Force. It was not a prophet to be listened to. Beyond truth it also held lies and misguidance. The Jedi had relied on it to guide them and it had led to their destruction.

Over and over again.

The Lords of the Sith had sought to subjugate the Force... and that too had led to their annihilation, so many times over. This was the proper way, Knight Izes knew it to be true. Use the Force as a tool, but not let urself be mastered or consider yourself master of it.

The safe path, which would lead to internal discipline and order.

They followed the path down. Around them forest, nature, the rolling hills, but Leoric could not see the beauty in it. It felt more like a coiled viper ready to strike at them from any number of directions. It did not take long to give way to the source of foreboding. The jagged edges of metal, the dead hulks of the past. Once upon a time these contraptions had reached for the stars. But now? They were hollow, spots of infestation that harbored cultists and possibly worse. He glanced up at Knight Zannen, using the Force to rise himself up and his brows furrowed behind the opaque visor.

"Knight Zannen, I believe we all echo your sentiments, but I do not think this is the time nor place." Izes responded dryly to the spectacle. It wasn't Zannen's fault, not truly, none would accuse Leoric Izes ever of being theatrical or emotional. These sort of things were beyond him. And he loathed seeing it in others in kind.

"As for your question, Watts, we seek knowledge. Within this forest of metal are apostates that jealously cling to the past. As long as we remain balanced and focused, we will find the source of their corruption, cleanse it and retrieve the artifact. Perhaps it will shine some light on why it still has its hold over these people so many centuries later."

A pause there, realizing he might have overstepped, since the question had been posed to the Knight Commander.

He inclined his head there, "My apologies, Knight Commander, I forgot myself." It was difficult to keep the role going. To submit, subservient, when decades had been spend free and roaming.

But the face behind Leoric Izes enjoyed the newfound structure.

It was quite something new.

 

[Dorian Sicarrio]

Rurik Fel Daiman Zannen Castian Vero Corran Watts​

Seriously, every time they went anywhere new, Rurik looked at the Knights like they were spring chickens.

Untested! Inexperienced! Undisciplined!

Dorian had been with NIO what, a few months? He'd kicked ass on a half dozen planets since then. What would it take to make the metal man respect him?

Probably some discipline, or something. Dorian thought he made progress. Now he wasn't even the knight asking stupid questions or speaking up randomly. The three dudes -- they all looked pretty much the same, and Dorian didn't know their names -- stepped out of line before he even let out a peep. Clearly he was doing awesome in the discipline department.

Because other people had spoken up, he felt like had a pass to start talking. He'd stayed a few steps behind the Knight Commander most of their walk there. He wouldn't admit why; he usually stuck with Mavia whenever they were out in a big group. Or a small group. Or out anywhere. Or even in one of the ships. Some people thought of them as a matched set, even Dorian.

As of late, though, Dorian had been unsure how to approach the green queen. She was quiet as ever and showed no discomfort at his presence or lack thereof. She was as unreadable as the dude in the metal mask, and Dorian thought he was getting good at reading Rurik. Just when he thought he had the hang of things among the Knights, it was always slipping in a different direction.

He couldn't shake the image of her face as she leapt forward, saber raised -- in fights she'd always been calm and collected. Much more than he was. And while he joked about it she never truly scared him. Not until Dubrillion, at least.

"What are we looking for again?" He couldn't sense shit. Probably just because he was bad at it. Danger sense, sure, but actually finding things with the Force was a hassle. He just hoped the cultists or whatever showed up so he had something to carve.

He blinked and cleared his throat. "Sorry. Uh, what are your orders, Knight Commander?"

The discipline thing still needed a little work. But he was trying.

 

[Detritus Ren]

Location: Mala
Equpiment: Lightsaber, Armor
Nearby: Rurik Fel Dorian Sicarrio Castian Vero Corran Watts Daiman Zannen


It was clear that the Knight was no longer on Dathomir anymore. Being one of the fresh new recruits of the Force Corps, or what was often referred to as the Imp Knights. Here he was on yet his first mission with the Imperial Knights. He could say that he hardly knew anyone. Save for recognizing the leader wore what he could describe as a Metal Mask, and covered in white robes. The mere presence had sent a chill up his spine. Clearly from the looks of the man. He wasn't the man to kark with at all. Jin didn't speak much with this new group he was in. What was there for the man to say among people that were far more experienced then he was.

Mala, it was a world that never had a fixed orbit. For Hundreds of years, it floated as if a time capsule of sorts. Showing proof that what was considered a myth. They were surrounded by the wreckage of all types. From a Imperious Star Destroyer, to skeletons that had clutched lightsabers in hand, some others even had blasters, and a few were covered in crimson armor. It was said that what was called "Battle of the Floating World" Was where Imperial Knights, Stormtroopers, and a ragtag group of smugglers, and even a Sith called Darth Wredd. Had fought against what was all left of the One SIth. It was here that for a time the Sith were destroyed.

But people knew better to say that evil had ended with the likes of the Sith. Only to go through even more centuries of endless suffering. Now here he was, on this mission it would be where the Knights, were dispatched with discovering the secrets of Wredd. Beyond the account of the battle, and his death not much was entirely known, and on top of that they were going to have to fight against a cult in order to do it.

While listening to everyone converse, Kyrel was distracted by studying what looked like big stormtrooper armor, as well as the surrounding battlefield. His eyes amazed at the relics before his eyes. Despite his age, he still had much to learn about his surroundings, and the world he lived in, despite knowing his commitment to his oath, to his mother, to his planet, and most of all to the Knights and the New Imperial Order.

Standing up, after kneeling and studying what he thought in a scholarly fashion of Artifacts. He finally spoke, rather slightly nervous about finally speaking to the others around him. "So what is the plan exactly? I mean do we just explore this graveyard?" At the moment, it felt as if the Knights had arrived and now were wondering what to do like with chickens with heads cut off.

 

[Rurik Fel]

Armor | Lightsaber | The Vane
​

R U R I K _ W Y M A R
D E A T H ' S _ D O O R

It shed into the light of day inalmost immediate succession why such an expedition of this caliber, being of material importance but otherwise less than grand strategic importance within the context of the New Imperial Order would have fruits to bear for the Imperial Knights. Infantile in its resurrection, mettle needed to be tested. Dorian Sicarrio , Mavia and Bastard all served to impress him on Dubrillion. In the end, it still showed the patches that needed to be sealed, the cracks in the armor.

" Indeed. The force is a weapon. Powerful it may be... We bring with us Order and balance. We stand as judge, we stand as jury and we stand as executioner. We serve and nothing more. "

" For the Order! For our sovereign Imperator! For the New Imperial Rule!"

"And so it is...the fire in your burns bright, Zannen. Stoke it so that it burns brighter than the fires that will emerge around you." Rurik suggested, he'd known better than to abandon that drive. Though Daiman sought to pontificate aloud his fanaticism, his loyalty to the Order, the dream. Whatever it all ended up being in the end. It would serve him well to calcify his nerves in the fray of battle but in a peculiar scenario such as this...the steadier hand would be rewarded.

"As for your question, Watts, we seek knowledge. Within this forest of metal are apostates that jealously cling to the past. As long as we remain balanced and focused, we will find the source of their corruption, cleanse it and retrieve the artifact. Perhaps it will shine some light on why it still has its hold over these people so many centuries later."

"My apologies, Knight Commander, I forgot myself."

"Do not, Knight Leoric. Your sentiment is true and thus it is, that is our aim. A group here has gathered about the shroud of darkness that looms over this place. It was site of great suffering but also...the conception of what had seemed then to be a brighter future. These blackened grounds were the very same to which the One Sith breathed their last breath before being snuffed out of the Galaxy...but of course we all know the true ending to this tale. The Sith are resurgent, the Galaxy in darkness once again...but his legacy still remains here, that of Darth Wredd. He had donned the armor, marched with the Knights but he was subjugate to a darker fate. However, in his very last moment he saw redemption as he was deemed the last Sith in death...at least he was then." Rurik explains.

"If there is a Holocron dedicated to the Sith, Wredd. Then we must have it. Not only to isolate the darkness kept within from whatever this malfeasance here is...but to harness it all the same. The Force is our weapon, remember. If Wredd sought about the end of the One Sith then no doubt he possessed knowledge instrumental to our crusade as it is." He stated outright.

"Regardless, it is not of our necessity to understand, only to obey." They were Knights of the Empire first and foremost, their loyalty to the Sovereign Imperator, the Order, all of the New Imperial citizens which had manifested outside of the bruising grip of the Sith Empire.

As the group of Knights neared the towering shattered space hulk of the Imperious-class Star Destroyer which protruded from the ashen earth. However when the structure came into full fruition, they'd received a foreboding greeting.

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A gaze no doubt familiar to each of them. The Stormtrooper, the guise of the Fel Empire, the First Order and now the New Imperial Order all strewn together in heaps of the fallen around this makeshift structure.

With no notice or warning, a foreboding whisper of an otherworldly origin pierced each of their minds.

"And so the Knights emerge...and yet, you all wear a masque, each and every one of you, a false guise. As he did....as we do. Yet still, you spout that brazen, false and pitiful dogma...afraid...afraid of revealing the truth in each of you."

A threat, though Wymar could not discern if it was an attempt to drag them deeper among the ruins or drive them out. What he knew for certain, is that it was intended to sow disunity between them all. Baring the literal visage of metal himself, he peered to his comrades with a glint of suspicion in his eyes before he led them onwards.

"Do not let yourself be prey to the darkness. We go forward, only forward." And into the jagged metal jaws of darkness. It must've been the ruins of the base of the command bridge that they peered into the gaping mouth of blackness that protruded from the ship. The darkness was all but manifesting from it, invading whatever sense in the force they might each possess.

Drawing his silver saber he ignited it to its shimmering life before marching into the breach, urging the rest to follow. Though...perhaps an illusion they'd each be drawn immaterially seperate.

What awaited them? Only what they brought with them as the dark side manifested around them. Past a test of resolve, they'd emerge into one of the broken corridors of the ancient vessel.

What they'd see...would be different to each of them.

Corran Watts | Daiman Zannen | Castian Vero | Dorian Sicarrio | Detritus Ren

 

[Corran Watts]

Peeps: Rurik Fel Daiman Zannen Castian Vero Dorian Sicarrio Detritus Ren
Equipment: Lightsaber Armor

To say that Corran felt out of place among his fellow Knights was a bit of an understatement. The show that Daiman put on, hovering in the air, and essentially preaching made him a feel a bit uncomfortable. He took a step back and decided that he would not ask any further questions. As Leoric spoke, he listened, and took mental note of the task at hand. He did, however, wonder if he was equipped for something like this. He felt the sentiment even further as Rurik spoke of the history of this place. Corran had understood that they were coming somewhere that the darkside had infested but the history behind it was fascinating but frightening.

Do not be a child, Corran thought to himself as he pushed down the fear rising inside of him. The group continued their approach and Corran focused his thoughts on the mission and pushed aside all of the self doubt and self pity that he had been plagued with his entire life. Those were paths to the darkside if one could not contain their emotions and, unfortunately, Corran was not someone who had a firm grasp of his own identity. He could not trust himself to tamper with the darkside as he knew it would corrupt him.

"And so the Knights emerge...and yet, you all wear a masque, each and every one of you, a false guise. As he did....as we do. Yet still, you spout that brazen, false and pitiful dogma...afraid...afraid of revealing the truth in each of you."

His thoughts were distracted by the voice in his head and he quickly stopped and looked around trying to find the source of the voice. What he was met with, though, was darkness. He could no longer see or sense his comrades and he panicked for a moment as he felt around trying to find any of his brethren. As panic began to seep in he reached for his lightsaber but before he could get his hands on it a voice rang out from the darkness.

"You are a disgrace to the Watts legacy," He knew that voice, that soft spoken but unusually firm and confident sounding man, it was his father. Had he tracked him down? How had he found Corran? He had been so careful and he had been assured by the Imperial Knights that he would not be able to track him. "Oh? You thought I wouldn't be able to find you? You always did think more highly of yourself than you needed to."

He tried, in vain, to find Ben's presence in the darkness. He reached out with the force to find anything but he was met with nothing. "Show yourself!" Corran shouted as the fear began to creep in. Where was everyone else? He knew his father was powerful but there was no way he was able to incapacitate the entire group he was with without them putting up a fight. "How did you find me!" He put his hand on his lightsaber but he did not draw it. Despite his feelings towards his father he doubted he would do anything to harm him... he thought.

"The breadth of my power is not something you would be able to understand," A lightsaber buzzed to life a few feet in front of him, the blue glow illuminating a large open room and in the middle stood a hooded man that Corran knew to be his father. Immediately he reached for his lightsaber but he felt a tug pulling on it. Try as he might to hold on the lightsaber was ripped from his hands and Corran felt an immense weight wash over him and force him to the ground. "You are my greatest shame. The Jedi Order collapsed while I lead it, the entire Galactic Republic crumbled, and I lost my homeworld to the Sith, and yet you.... you bring more shame to me than the combined weight of my other failures."

"Stop!" Corran shouted from his knees, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to stand to his feet, but it was no use. "I didn't ask to be born! Your failures are your own! I deserve to follow my own path!" He snapped his eyes open and all of the sudden he was alone. It was not pitch black dark anymore, instead, he stood face to face with a door. A light shone through a hole above him and illuminated the door. He struggled to his feet and stumbled forward. He ran his hand along the door and it was cool to the touch. As he touched it the door creaked open and revealed a box sitting upon a circular desk.

Corran reached out but before he could touch it he heard the voice again, the one before the blackness.

"The approval you seek from him will not bring you peace. Embrace the darkness within and become something more than your father could ever become. Surpass him, force him to tremble at your might, and then you can let go of the pain he has wrought upon you."

He felt it, something powerful.... something sinister. Its embrace was like laying in a warm bath, all around him he could feel it, its draw so alluring Corran never wanted to leave. He closed his eyes and in his minds eye he saw it. He saw himself standing above his father, Ben Watts trembling at his feet begging forgiveness. He saw no fear in himself, no, he saw raw power. The man he had always wanted to become would be so easy to transform into. All he had to do was give in.

"Yes, young Corran, rewrite the history books. Retell the Watts story from a different angle. Let the world know what your bloodline is capable of! They will respect you. They will fear you. All of them."

The voice echoed in his head but Corran pulled back. He was not sure how but this was not right. He felt the last bit of himself screaming from the back of his head and he listened. He refused the feeling, he refused the surge of darkness, he forced it all away but it did not go easy. He screamed a powerful scream and reached deep within himself to use the force to expel the dark energy. He was not sure how he did it, but a burst of light from within flooded the room momentarily as he pushed the darkness away.

He collapsed, breathing heavily, he stared at the ground and tried not to dwell on what had just happened. Though he had pushed out the darkness he now knew its embrace. He knew the temptation and how easy it would be to give in. When it had been in his veins he felt.... powerful. But, it was all false, and he was his own being. Many would see him as a coward. A timid little boy who lived in the shadow of a once great Jedi Master who would never live up to his fathers legacy. Well, that may be the truth, but they would also see a boy who never stopped moving forward. He would never take the easy way because he refused to let anyone say he gave any less effort than his all.

"The truth of who you are is not what you think."

He snapped up as the voice rang again but this time he was back where he had been left. He was no longer alone, his comrades where near him, but he was unsure of what had happened. They were all spread out and he wondered if they had been hit by the same sort of encounter that he had?

The truth of who you are is not what you think.

What did that mean?

 

[Arianna Sarreti]

Like everyone else, Arianna wore the battle armor of an Imperial Knight, but the young woman did not feel worthy of doing so yet. She had barely been plucked from the academy to begin a squireship some weeks past, then only to have her master die for the cause in the campaign against the Sith Empire before even commencing with her training. The Squire was left an orphan in a sense, relegated back to Page status... until now?

Summoned by Rurik Fel to join him and the Imperial Knights on this mission to Mala, the youthful Sarreti did not dare pass up the chance to prove herself in the senior Knight Commander's eyes or any of the others here who were in pursuit of the ghosts that lingered on this planet or more so to retrieve the rumored Holocron of the infamous Imperial Knight that became Darth Wredd.

As the group of Knights made their way through the ruins of past battles in search of their goal, the Coruscanti could feel the cold oiliness of the dark side seeping into her very bones yet could not see it for herself as the darkness was aloof.

"Do not let yourself be prey to the darkness. We go forward, only forward."

Were the sage words of the Knight Commander meant for her alone or for all?

She steeled herself more heartedly against the possibility of the dark side playing tricks in the shadows of her mind; to prey upon the already self-seeded feelings of doubt and of inadequacy as compared to the other more trained and skilled Imperial Force Corps members present. It did though make the young Imperial Knight hopeful that more determined to succeed this day in front of her peers and to overcome the deficiencies that made her weak.

Forward and onward was the only way to go, and so Arianna did.

Daiman Zannen | Detritus Ren | Corran Watts | Castian Vero | Dorian Sicarrio​

 

[Rach'ta]

Tags: Rurik Fel | Daiman Zannen | Castian Vero | Dorian Sicarrio Detritus Ren Corran Watts
Equipment: Ragged Robes

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Rach'ta, who was not an Imperial Knight, had been allowed to accompany the group on their voyage here due to his particular skillset. A visionary, a seer in through the Force, he was attuned to many places like this one. Areas of strong Force connection would elicit visions of the past, present, and future. And sometimes on occasion they were useful.

As the group discussed among themselves their purpose and philosophy the witch remained silent. He was a guest but all the same he was part of the darkness that they sought to ultimately rid the territories of the Empire from. As the group ventured forth towards an increasing presence he saw the commander, Rurik, look to the others and encourage them to resist. To Rach'ta there was no voice.

The Twi'lek looked to the others as they seemed to have changed expressions. Concentration, frustration, determination. They were they struggling against something and that something was indeed an illusion. If not an illusion then the influence of a spirit. A dull flash of green from all of his finger tips summoned the green mists of shadow magic, swirling in a fine filigree before him as tendrils began to reach outwards the members within the group "I will shield you for a time. Listen to your Commander, whatever you hear do not listen. Whatever you see, ignore." Rach'ta informed them as he began to bring forward the collective visions, voices, and emotions to himself. He was still new to the practice of shadow magic, but he was no stranger to the Darkside of the Force. Having been raised in the tombs of Korriban from a young age he was familiar with the machinations of the long dead, restless, Force adepts of the past who haunted the primordial corridors.

As he preformed this spell his head turned from one side to another in a perturbed fashion though he moved forward with no small amount of effort. And while he was increasingly disturbed the Knights should begin to feel more at ease.

 

[Dorian Sicarrio]

Rurik Fel Daiman Zannen Castian Vero Detritus Ren Corran Watts Rach'ta
​

"Oh, you... you're an interesting one."
​

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm you."
​

"Uh, yeah, nice try. I've literally never used the word 'interesting' in my life."

"Very well. I am not you, but I am of you. A reminder, a wisp of the past."
​

"Never used the word wisp, either. What does that even mean?"

"Dorian, you are different than these Knights. You-"
​

"Yeah, no shit. You're as useless as the other guy."

"...the other guy."
​

"I mean, he never told me his name. He just shows up sometimes to tell me about how I need to be better."

"Perhaps you should listen. You have so much potential-"
​

"See? You're just like him. The fuck outta here."

"You tire me, boy. Do you have any idea-"
​

"No, I don't know shit. Shut up."

"SILENCE."
​

Silence.

"I have waited your entire life to speak to you, boy, and I will not be denied now. That filthy Jedi may protect you elsewhere but here you are mine."
​

"Ahem, I'm mine. And I don't know any Jedi."

"Oh, but you've had him inside your head ever since your mother left."
​

Silence.

"You are a liar, Dorian, but unlike Wredd you are unable to hide it. Your Knight Commander, do you truly believe he does not see through you?"
​

"Shut up."

"The Knights around you, they do not trust you."
​

"Fuck off."

"And that Mirialan you admire so... yes, I see her. How she hates the darkness. When she sees what you have, what will you do?"
​

"I don't give a shit about that stuff. Light, dark, bantha dung."

"Oh, but it cares about you. You've been torn every day since your mother walked out the door."
​

Silence.

"Searching desperately for that hope, that wisp of the past. For a belonging you will never have."
​

"Get out of my head."

"Oh, Dorian, we both know you're so much better alone."
​

Silence.

---

​

Dorian's face contorted; anger filled his heart. He glared at the other knights. For the moment they looked away, but he knew that they were wary of him and always had been. Everyone else was the same. The conflict within; nobody else had it. Look at them, so determined. Keep moving forward. Don't be prey to the darkness. Bantha dung.

He tore off his helmet, his armor suddenly grating against his skin. His breaths were heavy as he took a half step forward before stopping. His grip on his lance tightened as his gaze turned to the ruined corridor on one side. Dark. Inviting.

There was a small popping sound as the Knight disappeared, headed deeper into the vessel.

 

[Rurik Fel]

R U R I K _ W Y M A R
FORCE CORPS STRIKE FORCE "SCIONS OF ANTARES"
IMPERIAL KNIGHT COMMANDER
Armor | Lightsaber | The Vane
F A L L S

Whatever fortitude Rurik posessed in his mental armor enclosing his mind from the dark malfeasance. He could feel the darkness envelop his thoughts all the same as they delved down. Initially, the dark mouth gave way to more shattered corridors only for the darkness to set in. His eyes closed before re-opening within the pristine interior of another vessel.

He looked down to be donning the battle armor of the Jedi of the Galactic Alliance. A rainment he'd not worn in...a long, long time. He immediately determined it was an illusion, must've been. All the same...it was far too real.

"Silver...saber, suppose that might very well be some vote of good luck for you shouldn't it be, Rurik?" The Alliance officer asked the Knight, a reference in no due subtly to the silver lightsaber he had at his hip.

Something that had been a characteristic feature of his even before he took the mantle of an Imperial Knight.

It faded, the vision.

It faded to the devastation of the planet beneath. Mirial. A city in ruins...in the wake of the Jedi, the Light. He could recognize the surroundings immediately and it drew a feverish shiver through his form. It was there he saw the shadow cast by the light.

Why here?

All the same, his conscious awareness of his surroundings did little to subdue the feeling of guilt. Of dread.

Perhaps that was because another machination of the mind appeared in the form of a deeply foreboding voice. Behind him, over his shoulder.

"Far too long you'd hidden as the rest of them did. And...now we've found you...just as we have before. I will see your end." The voice sounded out before the blade of a crimson saber crackled to life in a distorted fury.

Rurik turned to wield his own silver blade once more. The chaotic crimson fury instantly contrasted with the orderly silver. All the same, fear was buried in his heart, fear he'd not felt since-

around the figure, armored in black with jagged spikes protruding from its metallic shell were the corpses of those he'd crossed the breach with. Standing above them, vaguely familiar gazes of the Sith. Both those within the Sith Empire and those who'd sworn themselves as Scions of Darth Voyance, keepers of their code.

He'd seemingly failed to protect them, something he'd vowed to do when his troopers were slaughtered like chattle by Kascalion at the day of the Eternal Empire's betrayal of the Sith.

"There's nothing...nothing, you can do to snuff out the darkness, to reclaim your legacy. You've seen the shadow the light casts...there is no hope for you...for anyone." The dark miasma said before the two sabers locked for a moment. A feint as it didn't take all but a break of the clash and another strike to lunge the saber through the jagged armor of his shadowy foe.

The saber remained fixed in the man's chest as Rurik breathed a breath of relief, triumph before his gaze looked up into that of the enemy's only to find his own peering back at them. His face distorted past the twilight inflicted upon him by The Devil Kascalion, but marred with the corruption of the Sith. Fiery eyes in place of a pale gaze. Deathly flesh in place of pale. A demon all his own.

"Your will be done, my Emperor." He could hear his voice under an otherworldly distortion say back to him before Rurik himself shut his eyes only to re-emerge once more into naked reality.

All an illusion.

---

---

---

The ship's corridors were dimly lit with the very same cold florescence they'd been illuminated with in eons past though the clean, uniform patterning of the paneling around them indicated they were in the high levels of the space hulk and not within the more industrial levels.

Standing before what seemed to be the sealed entrance to the command bridge, Rurik looked up and down the door for a moment before he turned to those immediately within his presence and then back to the heavy metal barrier.

"It's here...and if it is here...they are guarding it...whoever they are. Steel yourselves. Whatever doubt they will seek to cast unto...it is an illusion, just as what we'd seen entering this place." Rurik said before he pressed the button and the door opened with a loud metallic clatter. An old, worn, abandoned mechanism.

"And still...you posture yourself...somehow...above it." The very voice that had enticed them here to begin with, though now tangible, in the flesh but all the same, behind a mask. A mask displaying a weeping visage of crimson and ebon in the darkness.

Though the two flanking the figure at either side resembled him with lesser complex patterns displayed upon their own false gazes, stood starkly out of place were the synthetics, the droids clammoring about this room. Of no known make that would make any sense here though small with star shaped bodies in patterns of five and seven with thin metallic tendrils protruding from each point.

Otherworldly, othergalactic. A line of creation Wymar could only be vaguely familiar with. Silentium.

"We seek the same as you...Order. But where attempt in vain to construct it yourselves...it can only be brought on by the annihilation. Of everything, the darkness, the light...all of it. Only then...can there be the order you desire. In the false guise of Empire...your own delusions will fail you and thus...so too must you go with them." With that, the crackle of five crimson lightsabers sprang to life and these enigmatic cultists lurched forward into the fray against the knights, leading Rurik to draw his own blade to clash with the ringleader's. All the while, the mysterious droids continued to idly prod and roam the room indifferently.

Corran Watts | Dorian Sicarrio | Rach'ta | Arianna Sarreti | Detritus Ren