Private Auction on Contruum (Holocrons and sith items)

[Hira Mitsae]

@Je'gan Olra'en

Trust my guts.

That is one thing I have learned running around the galaxy for two-hundred and something years. Looking back at ‘em, I would say my guts brought me in a lot of trouble. Then again, still alive ain’t I? Guessing that balances the scale just a tad on my account.

I was leaning against some weird car, with an yslamari cage strapped to my back. Ain’t sure why I am not inside with the auction, but the guts told me to stay outside.

Wasn’t too surprised when alarm bells started ringing, seems the fun had already begun.

Took a gulp from my flask, and patiently waited to see how things would turn out.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Something profoundly wrong roared through the Force. A disturbance the likes of which Orcus had never felt before surged somewhere above. Spirits. Many spirits, some of whom he recognized with a shudder of dread. The Nether. No, no he would not go back. Blast doors suddenly closed around the exits, followed by rayshields.

Black eyes widened. Ah, his roll had come up the Dark Lord's eyes. Cruel jest. He had but a few hands left to play and the thrill of the gamble flushed through him, lovely exhilaration.

Orcus stood up and stomped his way toward the nearest wall, leaving a wake of smushed and discarded chairs. The exits of the manor were all ray shielded and blocked by blast doors. The duracrete walls, however, were left undefended. A wide grin split Orcus' face in half, revealing large, conical teeth. He did not know what his brethren were planning, but he could feel - ah, yes. An image burned to life in his mind, a large burning eye. The Dark Lord's hand was at work here and Orcus, a loyal servant, had not been granted knowledge of it. Perhaps he was not worthy. The grin disappeared beneath rising tides of sorrow.

"[member="Odium"], brother," he stretched out, trying to touch the Nautolan's mind, "Do not send me back into the Netherworld. Do not return me to the Ocean of Fire."

 

[Not Ordo]

Contruum the grave yard of greed and tomb of so many. Innocent blood had been shed here in the name of "greater good" by the republic's former leaders. No thought had been given to the lives they would ruin in the wake of their onslaught. The theft and sale of their trinkets led to retaliation like children saying "no mine" before punching a sibling. Greed had led many there and Lews himself could not lie. he too had given in to the covetous emotion before his end. Perhaps that was why he lingered still. unable to become truly one with the force and yet still not mindless as many of the dead were. He like the others were drawn to the force and he like the others were now being sucked away into the vortex of dark energies. Once again greed this time for life had drawn spirits by the thousands to gather near this place and now their fate was deserved.

 

[Darth Odium]

[member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]
[member="Kasamann"] [member="Lord Eclipsion"] ((Share or no goodies))

The power of the Dark Lord and his own Dark Mistress surged through the already empowered Nautolan Sith. Once black ocular orbs turned deep crimson and bled black mist as skin began to dry and crack. From the crack in his skin shown a darkness that seemed to drink the light itself. A invisible vortex of dark energy swirled with enough strength to stir the physical air into a whirlwind around the auction house the Odium had built. Spirits had come and now Spirits would be bound.
As [member="Lord Eclipsion"] reached for the weapons invisible bolts reached out to the 250 Skivvian slaves and as one they were drained and consumed by the Creature known as Odium.

<Transactions Approved.> He said to all through the force.

<Everything for a porpoise Brother Orcus,> Odium directed his thoughts to the fellow True Sith, the One Sith, <Join me in the Dark Lord's pleasure and lend your power.>

Odium continued to draw the spirits into the crystal before him binding only 20 of note to himself. Flakes of dried skin fell away to reveal more of the light drinking darkness beneath his skin as his very fibers were empowered by the darkside of the force. His survival was becoming questionable but the ritual must be completed or all would be for nothing. He began the final step and dark bolts of Force Drain began to lap at Kasamann, Eclipsion, D-man, and Merill (The only ones that had moved). Odium then began binding spirits of power to Orcus to empower him alongside Odium and to share the burden of glorius power that He had been given.

Edit: added an "s" to the following (<Transactions Approved.>)

 

[Velok the Younger]

A dark tendril of Force Drain descended from the ceiling and ran straight into the upraised Entropy, the mastercraft sword designed to shred all such powers. Staring at [member="Kasamann"] from between her upraised forearms, Rave watched as Force Drain assailed the stealthentaur.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Serock Hoath"] would quickly find that the car disappeared, leaving a slightly confused-looking man in a hat in its place. He took a long step away from Seroth, and vanished from sight and sense.

He hurried, and rather a lot, through the gray and rain-soaked streets of Contruum, to find a hidey-hole. A spot between a parked car and a decrepit building served him well enough; he squatted there and refocused, mindful of the possibility that he could still be too close.

A man could be a conduit for the conduit of the full power of the One Sith's Dark Lord. Having served in the One Sith as Darth Shule, seven hundred years ago, Je'gan remembered the genuine article, and the arts that Odium now employed. Well enough to duplicate them, no, but well enough to understand what was happening -- certainly. With the infinite delicacy of a seven-century-old Fallanassi Elder, he found the mind of Odium. He skirted around the Nautolan's connection to his masters, located hints of motive and intent.

Another mind, doing unfamiliar things, caught his attention, and he turned his gaze to the flow-walking Hutt who danced between pasts and possible futures as the One Sith sapped the life from him. A convergence of those futures, clear in Rasho's mind as Force Drain stripped away its defenses, caught Je'gan's attention. Between Rasho's prophetic bleed and the hints radiating from Odium, Je'gan now knew approximately what was meant to happen after Contruum. A part of him respected the audacity of the plan.

A man could be a conduit for the conduit of the full power of the One Sith's Dark Lord...but power was entirely separate from experience, finesse, fine-point control. Former Grandmaster of the Jedi Order that he was, Je'gan had sacrificed most skill in other areas of the Force in order to utterly master mentalism. His closest competitor, Spencer Jacobs -- who was, admittedly, much stronger than Je'gan -- had a host of other abilities and one thirtieth of his experience. With that same infinite delicacy, Je'gan reached out to the mind of Odium once more, and began implanting layered suggestions, compulsion if possible, things so subtle and so well camouflaged that even a Master might miss them. Backed by pure mentalism and by the White Current, they would manifest as convergent urges that seemed wholly rational to the one affected. Rational, natural, instinctive, personal, compulsory.

Detonate the thought bomb now.

It made sense, from Odium's perspective, in a twisted way. Another thought bomb could be gleaned from the result, and only detonating now would assure the deaths of the Darksiders in the auction house, some of whom were resisting the Force Drain. The second bomb, once created, would be far more powerful than just a few hundred slave souls and some paltry gleanings from the Forcers. And wouldn't the power of the Dark Lord keep Odium alive? Oh, certainly.

Certainly.

Certainly.

 

[Matreya]

Seeing the tendrils of the Force, warning of impending attack, Kasamann made a split decision. Merill, or his own being...

Rearing onto hind legs, Kasamann whirled and faced the door, <Move.> Was the simple term and choice of phrase chosen to warn his fellow Sorcerer. Whether she moved or not, Kasamann lashed out with a powerful torrent of energy. This was getting bad quickly, and he could sense that, so he would waste a great deal of power to free himself.

Knowing the building was already damaged and collapsing, the energies above just damaging the structure even further, Kasamann took a deep breath...

<AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!> Exploding with the full torrent of his strength over telekinesis and its many intricacies, the centaur blew like a group of explosives combined. The door itself was not his main target however, the wall itself was, mainly above the door nearing the roof.

Gasping exerting the energy so swiftly, Kasamann staggered for a moment. It hadnt drained him to a dangerous point, but he was noticeably weakened...

[member="Odium"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Lord Eclipsion"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Odium's enigmatic reply was soon followed by an ocean of power that surged over Orcus, dragging him down, down, down into cold, dark depths that leeched away all feelings of warmth and left him in blackness. In that icy chill, he reveled in the newfound might. Orcus raised both arms high and his grinning mouth split wide.

"HA HA HA! POOOOWEEEER!"

The deep, booming laughter shook the very walls of the manor. He felt the spirits bound to his will as he shared in Odium's burden. As he shouldered the weight, memories came flooding back to him from days spent in the Jedi Archives. A glimmer of understanding came to Orcus, the slow dawn of realization as he recognized the ritual that bound them all. He laughed until his sides hurt, glorying in the thrill of Odium's gamble. If this was how he was to end, then he would make such an end to it.

He turned his attention on [member="Lord Eclipsion"], [member="Rasho the Hutt"], [member="Rave Merrill"], [member="Kasamann"], and [member="D-Man"], and all the others filling the auction house and so desperately seeking an out.

"There will be no escape," Orcus rumbled, then sucked in an enormous gasp of air.

Huge lungs swelled and he immersed himself in a Force Rage, letting the Dark Side enhance his abilities. His vision tunneled and he felt even more strength suffuse his being, the effect compounding as the adrenaline from the orbalisks flooded his system. He unleashed all his strength in a bellow.

"HAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!"

Overpressure shockwaves roared from his mouth, but he did not aim to smash down these walls, though he certainly could. The shockwaves rippled throughout the auction room, reflecting off of the duracrete and blast doors. Ever wonder what happens when you toss a grenade into a bunker? The shrapnel doesn't kill. The pressurized air does. All those hard surfaces reflect the waves, allowing them to barrage the occupants.The sinuses and the lungs, two parts of the body filled with air, are compressed. The nasal cavity implodes, shooting bone up into the brain and killing. The lungs? Well, the lungs get compressed so much that the pulmonary vessels leading to the heart are shorn off. When the shockwaves dissipate the lungs re-expand, filled by blood and leaving the victim to drown in their own vitae. That is, if they aren't killed by the gastrointestinal tract perforating, testicular organs exploding, or cranial bleeding.

All those effects would be the direct result of Orcus' bellow as it rippled from his maw and rebounded off of the various walls and blast doors, killing at the speed of sound, although his primary target was the purple centaur, who would catch the brunt of the blast.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

Overpressure does interesting things to a body resembling pure lard. Uninterrupted by bone, the shockwave rippled through Rasho the Hutt from stem to stern. He had as little chance to avoid this fate as the Jedi Council had had to avoid Order 66. His mind was stuck in flow-walking, in unavoidable futures and in the past. His thoughts dwelt on Alex. His daughter, now...five? Six? Older? It had been years since he'd seen her, let alone been happy with her. But futures branched out, and now, now, he perceived what he'd always feared to be true.

That every future where he continued living in this body, or any body at all, ended with misery for her.

Odium's Force Drain leached the life from his body, and he surrendered to the trap.

 

[Matreya]

(Just going to guess, after all thats happened, now adding in a Master exploding inches from the wall, and Orcus doing the same, that the wall is crumbled/crumbling.)

Once again, the Force barely aided in saving Damien, for the barest of seconds let the High Knight hurl up a defensive Force Push that expanded outward. The ability was one he had used quite a bit, but despite this fact, it was facing two incredible powers. Kasamann was a known intricate user of telekinetics, and Hion was just down right devastating, so when the pressure struck him, it was held at bay for the barest of moments.

Then before he knew it, Damien was drawing himself clear of the wall he found he was now embedded. Gasping for breath, while struggling to free his appendages, D gazed at a room full of stars. A few seconds later and the fatigue passed, driven to do so by his Czar lungs oxidizing his blood far faster.

Checking his form, he found deep bruising along the greater portion of his being, and a few fractures, but nothing Damien was new to. He would survive.

Happy to find his Cloak intact, if not slightly dusty, Damien charged at the now decimated wall the huge Centaur stood before. Reaching out with his free hand, his other still holding Kallig's saber, he summoned the largest hunk of the ceiling from the rubble by the datacrons, and hurled it before himself at the wall.

Blowing through, but opening a space barely large enough to let a lithe form move through. Luckily Damien bore just the physique.

Launching into a flip, D landed next to the hole and moved to leave the building.

Anyone whom could survive two full blasts like that, yet see a Cloak covered Damien as he moved toward the wall, would be quite the potent warrior, if it did indeed occur.

[member="Odium"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Lord Eclipsion"]

 

[Matreya]

Having just finished his own explosion of raw power, Orcus would find dual battling pressures. And while Orcus was powerful, undeniably, Zaiden had spent the greater extent of his life learning to combine tk with his other known abilities, Kasamann doing the same. His power was impressive, but Kasamann's was great. However, that being said, it wasnt like it would have no effect.

Being on the later end of his explosion, Kasamann was pushed hard back into the wall, slipping in the process to land on his rump in a comical sitting position. His body took a great deal of pressure, bruising everywhere all at once. If not for his own outward pressures, it would have done worse. However, pain was an ally for Kasamann, a welcomed one. Rising to his feet once more, the centaur vanished from all forms of tracking.

Moving more silent then death, Kasamann brought himself within a few feet of Orcus, and dropped his cloak. The second it did, the huge brute would find a razor sharp appendage hurtling at his throat at speeds beyond the speed of sound.

Other than his tails speed, facing the brute in physical combat was stupid. But what more could he do? One man moved to escape, but the whole was barely large enough for the man, let alone a huge centaur.

And then, the Drain struck and Kasamann battled the effects the only way he could think to: drawing in energy himself. Keeping the current open could optimistically let the being escape...

[member="Hion the Herglic"]
Edit: Thought you exploded as well.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Orcus had not known that one could specialize in stealth and telekinesis at the same time. He found such revelations... troublesome.

The clip-clop, clip-clop of hoofed feet preceded the centaur's attack and when [member="Kasamann"] dropped his cloak he found Orcus ready and waiting. The 7'2" 850lbs Herglic simply reached out an enormous flipper toward the incoming tail and seized it, stopping the appendage cold. Then, strength amplified by bound spirits, orbalisk adrenaline, Dark Rage, and his own considerable bulk, Orcus moved to whip the centaur, by the tail, and do the following:

 

[Velok the Younger]

Rave stood firm, though her Second Skin writhed and hissed around her. The biological powered armor, thick and sealed, absorbed the overpressure at the cost of its own health. Its blood soaked her. Force Drain wreathed and shredded around her sword Entropy, the weapon designed to overcome such things. She flinched as Hion's blast and the Force Drain killed the Hutt Dark Lord at the back of the room.

Some folks had managed to make a gap where no gap should have been. She could sense her blood-trailed datacrons -- one could not sense another's blood trail, and the blood droplets had been tiny -- as a cloaked fellow attempted to make his way out of a tiny new gap in the wall.

Her focus remained on locking souls to objects, on the Sith magic to control spirits, but now she shifted that emphasis. She was busy twisting arcane arts, learned from Nihilus and Moridin, to lock her soul to her own body in a jury-rigged way that might let her survive a thought bomb. Now, appreciative of [member="Hion the Herglic"], she put a lock on his soul as well. Should he die, his soul would be bound to her dagger. You know, ideally.

 

[Darth Isolda]

The keening sound of voices would wail in their ears.

They were terrible. Sounds of such desolation, of writhing horror as the souls of the damned were bound to her apprentice, the Dark Side of the Force surging throughout [member="Odium"] and [member="Hion the Herglic"] like a sickening high so painfully sweet, it would jolt their powers to new heights.

Yessssss....

Soon.

Soon.

Perfect. Everything had a purpose. Time and place.

There is power in death, as there is in life. There is power in that which hurts, as well as that which saves.

That alabaster skin flared to life, a moonlight glow. She called upon the Goddess's power. That of the Dark Lord's. All of it. If she were truly Her vessel, let it be this night, this moment.

Give it to me all. All of it, I ask it in your name.​

The dark strands of ebony hair would flow upon her back, her skin glowing so bright she could see the dark veins of pulsing crimson blood underneath, see it flow throughout her limbs like liquid red fire.

Isolda, Chosen of Vahl, had called upon the power with Odium's body as a vessel along with hers, and it was with their bodies that they would ride the tidal wave of blood and death.

"F̭̗̪͚͉͘R͖͖͕̠Ơ͖̜̰͎̼͔ͅM̹̳̞̩̦̬̀ ̣̥͖͓D̖͚͔͉̘͝Ȩ̹̹̭Ạ̠͕̜T̻̻̼̺͍̮H͕̮̳̱ ̩̹̘̪͈̳̀C͇̺O͔̰̼͖͉M̥̻E̠̤̺̝S͏̲̺ͅ ̤͖̪N͟E̺̗̬̫̘W̭̯ ͓̤̲̬̪͎L̮͉͕͕̜ͅI̢̖̯̞̮F̡͇̥E̫̖͙͚̼̭͎!̤̰̟̳̜̪̹͢" her voice would echo with tremendous power, that all seeing eye showering upon those cast within the walls of the auction house.

There, pulsing within her mind, was a writhing horror. That dark abyss. She embraced that Darkness, and like an avalanche, there was no choice but to ride it to its end.

​

Ỳ̗͖̥̱e̫̳̤̣̤s̨̩̩̪s̺͙̹s̠͈s̪̠̱͓̰s̘̪͓sş͍̼̫s̯̘̫̝͍̻ͅs̷̝̫̣͖s҉̟̦̯s͈͍̞̘͓s͏͕͔̩̜̠s̟s̨͍s̝̹͔̳.̬̹͈.͓
͚̙̗͇͞
̣ ̸̖̺̪ ̟͠ ̙̫ͅ ͔̞̟̮̮̥̖͞ ͎̳̳͍͉ ̮͖̺̠͉͡ ̮ ̕ ͙͢ ͜ ͎̭̘̮̗̘̜ ͉̻̞̻̗͝ͅ ̯̰̳̫̮̭ ̨̱̘ ̫̲̦̤̤͠ͅ ̫͙̖̗̕ ̧̰ ̖͙ ̦̫ ̭̞̖̠̣ͅͅ ̜͖̱̕ ͉͚ ͖̩̼̟̬̦̀ ̢̲̱͉ ̧̱ ̪̗̰̣͘ ͕̺̳ ͖̟͠ ̳̘̱̤͜ ͇ ̯̘̺ ̡̣ ̝̞͎̖͔͔̳ ̕ ̯͎̺̲̣͓̲͠ ̮͚ ͢ ̲ ̼́ ̪̖ ̘ ̴̘̼͖ ̡̼̥̳̭̘̥ ͢ ̩̟̻̹͝ͅ ̡̻̤̜̜͈̣S̙̩͝o̟̱̯ǫ̥n͜.
̧̣̟̟̹̖̳
̥̳͓̘͙͘S͓̬̪ͅo͉o̖͙n̛͉̘̰̘ ̨̖m͓͍͕ͅy̬̺̹͇ ̶̫̠̜͔̤̥͇a͎̞̘̖̫͔̺͠p̷̻͍̳̩͕pr͙͚̺̣͇e̹͇͔͓͉ͅn̪̤̩̫ͅt͏̰̰̭̹ͅi̝͓̲̟c͖̗̰̭̝͔̣͠e̥̯͇̱͕͞.͔̰̙͕͇̪́ͅ ͚̻​

Her voice would go echoing within her apprentice's mind, hammering her will into his as she led him through the perfect timing. Darksight had led to the most advantageous of moments.

That moment was soon upon them.

But not yet... not, quite yet.

 

[Matreya]

Unless defying all logic, blunt object or razor sharp, something moving the speed of sound hits you it damages. Except if your a god, which even Kasamann knew himself not to be. Taking this in mind, when the Herglic gripped his tail, which again would cause sever damage to his hand if he used sufficient enough strength to drag something nearly twice as long as he is tall then as well lift the extra weight with length, he simply used all of the powerful strength of a humongous centaurs legs. Kicking all four straight to the other beings legs.

No species should remain undamaged after all of that. But then, once more, with all that muscular talent found in something so devastating as a whip-scythe-tail, he simply yanked back as hard as he could. Again, ignoring distance moved, the pure grip the brute already had, this alone should nearly - if not completely - slice his hand in half.

Then, to make sure it held good measure, he sought to snake its immense length up and around the gargantuans throat.

The message? Im no one to shrug off.

Even if after all this, he still succeeded in lifting to slam him, such a form would be hard to damage as he sought. But Kasamann recognized the future pain, and hurled up a shield made of telekinetics behind him to cushion the blow as much as he could.


[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Darth Odium]

[member="Kasamann"] [member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Serock Hoath"]

The emotions were as dark as any the galaxy had as they welled up in the darksiders beneath him. Fear, greed, anger, aggression, hatred, all of which were mere pleasure to the Nautolan Sith. The one skill that set Odium truly apart from others was he could fuel his own power with not only his own emotions but the emotions of others around him. Perhaps the dark lord had chosen him for that reason or perhaps time would yet tell.
The Sith, the Servant, the Slave that was Odium, drifted in a place few feet dared tread. The ritual he was conducting was to imbue the simple oversized focusing crystal with spirits for use to create the Thought Bomb on Tython and replace the Dark Crystal that once had been the Prize of the Sith academy on Koriban. The initial pleasure-Pain that he and his master reveled in lasted for minutes and brought him to a plain of existence that he had not dared dream of. However, as power began to eat away at his body so to did it eat away at nerves and leave him with the searing heat of power that was the darkside. The branching spiraling Tattoo's that wound their way around the torso of the Large Nautolan began to writhe like serpents and spilt skin, but alas he could not feel the intense pain that he knew his body should be experiencing.

<Every gift of the Goddess comes with a price.> he reminded himself as he continued the last stage of the ritual to Create the Dark Crystal.

Detonate the Thought Bomb now.....

<Now.....should it be now?> Odium asked the air as he felt the Dark Goddess Bogdan was whispering to his mind.

Could the Dark Lord preserve he and Orcus when the Bomb was activated? Would he waste his energies for the Lowly creatures that were Odium and Orcus. He would certainly... Certainly...Certainly...Yes, of course he would.

Odium's mind drifted in a deep nebulous void beyond space and time as he fought to exert his will over the various spirits many unwilling however many greedy for vengence were bound willingly. What would normally take ten Sith now had but one conduit, Odium, and that Conduit began to separate the spirits like the reaper separates the wheat from the chaff. One set for the crystal the other for the silver orb that began to grow over it.

The sliver of the orb like floating mercury sat over the crystal in a half materialized form when his master broke in with assurance that it was not yet time. Time seemed to stand still as Odium halted the creation of the thought bomb and transferred the energies into himself.

The Gand Findsman that had been descending wisely stopped his course and kept himself, [member="Jared Ovmar"], and [member="Darth Isolda"] away from the tribulation that was about to take place on the World of Contruum.

The time it took to bind the final Spirit to the crystal and prepare to funnel the soon to be dead darklings into it was not much. The Dark Mark lashed across his graying flesh as he finally opened his mouth and spoke. The sound of his voice was far from being that of a normal one. The sound of his voice was like a windstorm with thousands of voices speaking as one.

“Now greedy ones you die....”

The power of his Drain force technique lashed out in a silent invisible (can't see it) wave of force energy as a myriad of souls were summarily tapped to empower his hunger for lives. Waves shot out and lashed away at Darksiders who were within the area. The Crystal that had begun as clear and diamond like in sparkle now swirled with an ever moving cloud of black and violet malevolence. The drain that erupted from him was not the typical sort it began draining the force from everything not protected by the Dark Lord of the One Sith. The color drained from the furnishings and ground alike as Odium sank to his knees. The Sith lord [member="Rasho the Hutt"] willingly forfeited his life to the drain and Odium was quick to bind the powerful consciousness to his Necklace of bone. The Colors, smells, sounds and life drained from everything within 50 meters of the auction house as Odium's final act of the ritual was finished. Odium still was unable to stand and the area was shrouded in silence as the Gand Findsman finally descended from the clouds of Contruum in Odium's GR-75 Medium Transport.

Had others survived? He may never know as the ship lowered over the now roofless auction house and opened an airlock. The massive repulsors that most ships of its size used for landing procedures exerting powerful downward pressure beneath it.

Whose hands lifted him onto the Ship he could not yet register, but his weathered arms enwrapped the Crystal as he was hauled into the ship.
<Orcus> he said telepathically once again before closing his eyes against the pain.

 

[Arage Bao]

I ain’t amused.

This was supposed to be a demonstration of the power of the Nox and Nihilus holocron. ‘Course I expected people to die, but the moment Rave showed up. Well, things became more complicated. Us two.. we didn’t have some deep meaningful relationship, ain’t that kind of friends. Doesn’t mean I want to see her dead though, doesn’t mean I am happy with what just happened.

Couldn’t do anything though, too far away to help in any way. I mean, I probably could have tried to take over the ship and ram it into the auction house. But Isolda was here, and regardless of my regard towards her supposed Dark Lord. I ain’t a big fan of fighting in cramped ships. Those durasteel walls are the only thing that keeps us alive.

Ain’t gonna jeopardize that by throwing kinetite balls all over the place. Not a smart move. So I just kept sitting in my chair, watching the show. Trying to ignore the feeling of anger filling up in me.

Don’t know what happened to Rave, resourceful woman. Probably found a way to survive that crap, I hope. Eventually Odium was pulled inside the ship, by some unseen Force. Probably Isolda’s work again, that woman gives me the creeps. I am a pragmatic man, ain’t nothing pragmatic about her though.

I followed the route to where Odium would be sitting, probably in pain. Guy did a hell of a job, that’s for sure. Even if his target had been someone I.. care about? Ain’t sure if it’s care, but doesn’t matter now.

“Odium. Excellent execution.”

Like I said, a pragmatic man. It wasn’t like Odium knew who Rave was, neither had he invited her personally. Can’t blame him, can only blame myself for allowing it to happen.

“I’d like the Nox and Nihilus Holocron nosw, you have learned everything there is to learn about it, I wager?”

Then I just waited, to see how he would react.

[member="Odium"]

 

[Darth Odium]

[member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Kasamann"] [member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Hion the Herglic"]

Odium leaned against the bulkhead, black mist still slowly drifting from his still crimson eyes. His body filled with the spirits of the dead as too was the Dark Crystal that lay across his lap. The Darkside coursed through him still and he could feel it calling to him to continue toward his destiny. He looked up at High Lord Ovmar as he approached and began to shake with a silent chuckle. A grey green hand reached into the satchel made from nautolan hide that he always kept close as a flake of dead skin peeled away and fell to the floor showing a light drinking darkness that was waiting in his veins.

<Nox's Holocron.> He said telepathically with voices of hundreds as he pulled the small cube from the satchel, <take it, I've surpassed him, but only my Mistress can give the Nihilus Holocron. The ones in the auction were datacrons on the contents of both, from my perspective, Of course.>

Odium waited for word on the survival of Orcus and the others.

<They would have all survived if they hadn't forced me to hurry.> Odium said and was echoed by countless voices, <Rasho is with us now.> He looked around confused for a moment. <I need to check on Alex before the next step.>

 

[Arage Bao]

I ain’t afraid of cutting my losses when the times comes. It’s the definition of a good gambler to know when ya gotta accept what you got and leave ahead of the game. So when he told me that his mistress had the Nihilus Holocron.. well I knew I didn’t have the time to go find her, and convince her to hand it over.

My gaze was pulled into the direction of the planet, seemed she was still alive. Never doubted her for a second, but she was weakened and I ain’t sure how long she would be able to hold on there.

“My thanks, brother. The Nihilus Holocron will have to wait then, I have a mission surface-side, it seems. Darkness will prevail, you earned my respect today.”

I nodded to him and took the Nox Holocron, then I moved to board the Sekairo stealth transport which had brought me here in the first place.

**​

Auction house was pretty busted up, roof destroyed. Made it easier to land though, I stepped outside of the transport and gestured towards the men inside. Twenty-nine battle hardened soldiers, they would make sure the area was secure, and no surprises were to be had.

So here was the situation, Odium had just killed Rasho, a Vaapad-wielding Sith Lord Hutt and maybe even Rave. I ain’t sure about that yet, there were seemingly four other folks in here.

Kasamann, the stealth master. Eclipson and Daemos, two knights and Orcus. You gotta understand, Odium was being fueled by two Sith Masters when he was trying to pull off his act.

Force Drain is hard to counter by someone who was trained in it, trying to counter it while doing other stuff, while also not being trained by it and when it’s initiated by a determined Sith Knight fueled by two Masters? Almost impossible.

So there were three possibilities now.

One, everyone who didn’t have the capability to counter the Drain, was dead.

Two, they mysteriously went unconscious and would be able to recover in a few, and get on with their lives. Doubtfully, but hey, I ain’t gonna argue.

Three, they were not only not unconscious, but still battle-ready. But let’s be honest here, if they weren’t unconscious.. they were at least drained to critical levels.

Either way, there shouldn’t be much of a fight in any of the folks here.

So I did the only thing that seemed realistic, I ordered my soldiers to collect the datacrons, Kallig’s lightsaber, the two Sith swords and the shadow armor. While they were doing that, I’d find out if the people who tried to take ‘em beforehand, where still alive and kicking or not.

Myself? I went to Rave, to see if she survived.

“You alright, Merrill?”

 

[Velok the Younger]

A single tendril of Force Drain could be stopped by the sword Entropy, but an area-of-effect was something else. The sword could blunt it, certainly, and she had finished the experimental binding on herself and on Orcus, so she had attention to spare. To taste Force Drain was to begin to learn it, but not this quickly; she hadn't the art. Instead she focused on what she did best, amplifying the sword's derivation from ancient terentatek alchemy and Kwa crafting. The sword repelled the drain, kept her strong. The life slipped from her armor with a gasp, and with certain manipulations of bone spurs it fell away from her like a flower opening. That left her on the podium in an Iron Skin bodysuit, sword in hand, standing strong with eyes half-lidded while dozens died around her from the strength of the Dark Lord and his Master-level servant Isolda.

And they mock alchemists.

When the effect ended, when it could be safely assumed that everyone else was dead or incapacitated -- unless they had an apex-mastercraft Sith artifact designed to repel massive Force powers, and so far as she knew her blade's concept had been unique -- soldiers flooded into the auction room. And at their head...Jared Ovmar.

She yawned gently, tired from the Drain. "So you're working for the Dark Lord now? I thought better of you, Jared."