Poisoned Pride

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One rarely realized they were living in times of grandeur until those times had passed.

Tattered banners and mounds of corpses were all that stood as testament to the Dominion of old. Ession was naught but a lifeless orb of slag and factories. Its people were eradicated or driven to the stars, its leaders slaughtered in the name of the Sith Emperor. The ethereal beasts the Dominion had been forged to destroy were left unchecked, and the empyrean had grown truly violent in the days that followed the galactic power's collapse.

For the handful of survivors that remained, the only path to survival had been one of pragmatism. Many had turned their backs upon what they had once stood for and joined the ranks of their conquerors. Others fled to the last few bastions of light left in the galaxy, and rest were scattered aimlessly across the stars. The brotherhood and purpose that had bonded their people had evaporated, replaced by a melancholy that felt all consuming.

There had been no closure, and the lack of it had eaten away at Cedric's soul with every passing day. He could hold it off no longer.

The Jedi Master had sent a message to those of particular note.

"For the blood of our fathers, and for the blood of our sons." The message read. It was an old phrase used by the 501st, and would likely be known to most that had worked alongside them. The message ended with a C.G. to mark the sender, and a location along with a date and time had been attached.

Cedric Grayson awaited those called aboard an old Jedi Shadow waystation that had been abandoned after the burning of the Black Library. The station hung in the open space between galactic powers, and was utterly unknown to the greater galaxy as a whole. The Jedi Master had come there alone, and now waited in the conference room of the station. He was clad in the Archlord's Raiment, his armor freshly polished and his ebony cloak restored to its proper grandeur. His cowl was drawn over the Mask of the Archlord, the steely visage utterly emotionless as it seemed to regard the room of its own sentience.

The station's hanger would allow for anyone who arrived to come aboard. Cedric awaited them.

 

[Riamah]

No stranger to things, Ra had her ear to the ground for word of certain people. Knowing Cedric lived, she had made sure to keep touch with informants. While she did not have him watched constantly, when he did something of importance, she knew of it. He had gone quiet for a while and now it appeared he was moving again. This time, she did not get word from her people, but a direct message from him.

Her role with the Dominion in the days of Cedric were quite minor. Ra had been a simple merchant. It was after he had disappeared that she had grown in power. A leap from merchant to head of intelligence. Time had passed and she grown in power...not because she wanted it however. There wasn't enough power in the galaxy alone to stand against the Sith Empire. So she had gathered some friends and allies and now had her own movement dedicated to destroying the current Empire. Same as they had done to her more than once now.

He called and she answered...Arriving at the destination in her old and ancient freighter, it was unmarked and a private ship. Landing in the hanger, an older and wiser woman stepped off her ship.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Bartic Myth'rand]

Bartic had heard the call, it had been some time since the Dominion had burned, the galaxy had chewed him up and spat him out several times during his absence from playing with power, he had a life now, he was a cargo captain just like his parents were. That message had given him several sleepless nights he was happy to be out of the great game, but now that there was an opportunity to get back in be couldn't pull himself away from it, his brain was screaming at him to step back, but his gut, something he knew to trust, told him to go back. There was something else that pulled him, a sense of duty, Bartic had known Cedric since he was a young boy, watched his formative years, the Dominion was two generations of Greyson family sweat and tears, and Baric had also put a fair amount of his own into it as well, he just couldn't tear himself away from it.

Bartic cut the ties with the identity he was living under, dusted off the old Director of Dominion Security Bureau uniform he couldn't bring himself the throw away and changed the IFF of his ship to mathch his old ship, an Endurance-class Fleet Carrier 'The Interrogator' to identify himself and made tracks for the location in the message.

Bartic stepped off the ramp of his YV-330 and headed for the conference room, older, but still the same fire in his soul as he spoke his opening line to Cedric. "So, it's time."

[member="Cedric Grayson"]