Wayland was a mixed blessing for Skorne. A repository of possible artifacts from times past and also of potential gain from his standpoint.
Groups scoured the planet for hidden gems of places long forgotten to most. Looking for relics and information to gain a foothold in other parts of the galaxy. Mostly young groups of padawans, malleabile minds under the persuasive hand of what some would distinguish as a master jedi. Or even an up and coming white knight for them. The latter was a lesser challenge in some ways.
Namely, it wouldn't draw near as much attention if they dissappeared on a backwater planet along with a number of padawans also.
An investigation would happen, sure. Perhaps someone with a keen eye might notice anything left over from the natural carnivores on the planet. But that would most likely happen in a morgue.
Well after he and this, Second Son, were finished and well on their way into friendlier skies.
He was wearing his armor. He had explained it briefly as his planet's burial garb. An exemplification of one's life given physical form, and also quietly made to surpress any lingering traces of the force about the body. His helmet was off at the moment, his face revealed as the scar running from well past his collar glowed softly with amber colored tinges.
His eyes mimicked the coloration, skin cracked along the edges of the scar from his past life as a member of the Silver brainwash jedi.
His thoughts swirled around as a new perspective forced him to see his past life in a new light. The sith influence of those that had revived him working in a strange way to beguile the once nurturing silver into an embittered and passionately wrathful being.
Everything now seemed to point to his training being the quiet and subtle influence of the silvers preparing him to throw his life away for them.
To view himself as nothing in the grander scheme of the galaxy. That his value was only found in sacrifice for a hidden plot to retrieve a master that none had seen fit to rescue. His ire only grew as he thought on his sacrifice to help
Amani Serys
and her goal. On the fact that a singular padawan had more gumption to retrieve her master than an entire order of jedi.
But that was how they trained their padawans. Endearing them to their masters, making them feel a sense of responsibility for them should anything come of events out of their hands. Why lift a finger when you could teach the young ones to do your work for you?
He was letting those thoughts run rampant in the back of his mind as he stared at the holo-display of the planet before them. His tactical mind at the front as he pointed to a spot and halted the simulated rotation.
"They have a small outpost there. Serves as the hub for their training area as well as an impromptu base." He tried to speak plainly, the hint of anger unwilling to remove itself from.his tone. "They have a small scanning system in place but mostly rely on the fact no one wants to come here. Locals and fauna are dangerous outside of zone they have cleared."
Save for the ruins the jedi had cleared out, the planet was still mostly ruled by law of nature. The fittest survived in the woods.
"Only visited twice, mainly running guard duty for the pencil pushers and excavation teams." He informed the other sith before adding something on. "Explorers from the silvers like to test their mettle against the beasties from time to time, but I don't see a vessel in orbit to say that they are here."
He leaned forward to examine the planet again, moving his hand around the display and spinning the planet.
"If we come in around the back, that will put us in the blindspot of the ground scanner. Fly in low, keeping just above the trees and we will look like nothing more than a large avian on ground scans." He offered his own idea for approach, wondering what the Second Son would think.
Second Son
Groups scoured the planet for hidden gems of places long forgotten to most. Looking for relics and information to gain a foothold in other parts of the galaxy. Mostly young groups of padawans, malleabile minds under the persuasive hand of what some would distinguish as a master jedi. Or even an up and coming white knight for them. The latter was a lesser challenge in some ways.
Namely, it wouldn't draw near as much attention if they dissappeared on a backwater planet along with a number of padawans also.
An investigation would happen, sure. Perhaps someone with a keen eye might notice anything left over from the natural carnivores on the planet. But that would most likely happen in a morgue.
Well after he and this, Second Son, were finished and well on their way into friendlier skies.
He was wearing his armor. He had explained it briefly as his planet's burial garb. An exemplification of one's life given physical form, and also quietly made to surpress any lingering traces of the force about the body. His helmet was off at the moment, his face revealed as the scar running from well past his collar glowed softly with amber colored tinges.
His eyes mimicked the coloration, skin cracked along the edges of the scar from his past life as a member of the Silver brainwash jedi.
His thoughts swirled around as a new perspective forced him to see his past life in a new light. The sith influence of those that had revived him working in a strange way to beguile the once nurturing silver into an embittered and passionately wrathful being.
Everything now seemed to point to his training being the quiet and subtle influence of the silvers preparing him to throw his life away for them.
To view himself as nothing in the grander scheme of the galaxy. That his value was only found in sacrifice for a hidden plot to retrieve a master that none had seen fit to rescue. His ire only grew as he thought on his sacrifice to help
Amani Serys
and her goal. On the fact that a singular padawan had more gumption to retrieve her master than an entire order of jedi.But that was how they trained their padawans. Endearing them to their masters, making them feel a sense of responsibility for them should anything come of events out of their hands. Why lift a finger when you could teach the young ones to do your work for you?
He was letting those thoughts run rampant in the back of his mind as he stared at the holo-display of the planet before them. His tactical mind at the front as he pointed to a spot and halted the simulated rotation.
"They have a small outpost there. Serves as the hub for their training area as well as an impromptu base." He tried to speak plainly, the hint of anger unwilling to remove itself from.his tone. "They have a small scanning system in place but mostly rely on the fact no one wants to come here. Locals and fauna are dangerous outside of zone they have cleared."
Save for the ruins the jedi had cleared out, the planet was still mostly ruled by law of nature. The fittest survived in the woods.
"Only visited twice, mainly running guard duty for the pencil pushers and excavation teams." He informed the other sith before adding something on. "Explorers from the silvers like to test their mettle against the beasties from time to time, but I don't see a vessel in orbit to say that they are here."
He leaned forward to examine the planet again, moving his hand around the display and spinning the planet.
"If we come in around the back, that will put us in the blindspot of the ground scanner. Fly in low, keeping just above the trees and we will look like nothing more than a large avian on ground scans." He offered his own idea for approach, wondering what the Second Son would think.
Second Son
