Private Secrets in the Dark

[Darth Tennacus]

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Location: Lehon
Ship: Wandering Pilgrim
Allies: Darth Senthral 77-B
Accompanying: Jhira Mereel
Objective: Unlock the past


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Tennacus stepped off the ship, scanning over the distant plains. His submergence and focus into the Dark Side revealed nothing in the sense of other life forces; for miles it was believed the lands were barren. There was only one creature the Sith Lord would have been cautious of here, but he neither felt nor heard its shape rampaging through the nearby forests, just as he never heard its terrible maw cry out with the sounds of blood-shivering bellows. The Rancor were a violent, but potential candidate of Dark Side subjugation: legends of Darth Bane told of how he had tamed one so many years ago, using it to guide him to greater wonders beyond his eye. Even so, Tennacus was not here to barter with the Force to acquire such control of a beast. As Darth Senthral descended the ramp behind him with Jhira Mereel , his focus converted towards the promises of power that dwelt there.

The Dark Side was strong here.

". . . Do you feel it? The call of the dark?" Tennacus closed his eyes as the ramp unfolded behind them. The following silence burrowed him beneath the waves of the Force, letting the Dark Side move through him like shockwaves and ripples coursing through his veins. There was still a power here, among the ancient technological rubble of a war most had forgotten. Wonders of the Infinite Empire, the Rakkata, and the machinery that had let them first conquer the sea of stars. Remnants of the Star Forge that had barrelled back to the planet, cratering the ground and waters which flowed around it. But such tangible treasures were meaningless in the great scheme of things. Sith like Tennacus and Senthral did not hold much value to material gain, unless it accelerated the ever-expanding well of wisdom and propelled them into a great sense of knowing. Relics of the Sith were valued more than credits; the knowledge within them was sometimes valued more than life itself.

There was a strangeness to this place - a lingering shadow that did not sway. It was dark in its energy, moving in the silent winds, carrying itself over the distant waves. There were no Sith here other than themselves, but something exuded such power that it made them wonder if they were truly alone. Perhaps the Sith of old had gathered from the wastes of Korriban to find purpose here, like Darth Bane within his pilgrimage in search of a revelation that could reshape their corrupted system into an eternal empire.

Tennacus turned to Jhira Mereel , watching to see how the cold rush of darkness affected her. "We've shown you the likes of our ways - what purpose we serve towards, and why we uphold such strange traditions of ascension. Now, let us show you where it all began." His arm gestured in front of himself. "Reach out to the Force, and you shall feel it. The dark shadow that lurks just out of sight, yet towers over you ever closely. The shapeless winds that suddenly move like wraiths across the sea, lost in the great schism of the Force. Power always comes from somewhere. Maybe you will hear its calling before I do."

 

[Darth Senthral]

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Darth Senthral watched, listened, and lay ready for his Master's beckoning. His eyes first watched Darth Tennacus intently, and listening he heard words towards their current companion here. Eyes wandered to Jhira Mereel , what would she feel? What would she see, Light or Dark, in Past or Future? Things would become much more loose shortly, reality as they perceived it. It was something he knew to be, part of their set plans. Yet even if he knew not an inkling of the plans, the feeling was deep within, and all around himself.

"Reach out Jhira. You will never see what you do not seek to. Knowledge is Power. Surely you understand that fact, so reach out." He would do so himself, and maybe even knew he could. The same was for Tennacus, the capabilities for the two were there. Yet this lesson was for Jhira. "Learn something. You know you will it, and nothing truly ever stops you but your fears. Even those fears can be used for the greater, they give power to those that accept them, and they know themselves stronger for it."

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[Jhira Mereel]

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LOCATION: Lehon
Objective: Unlock the Past
Equipment: Cybernetics | Jet Pack (no missile)| Beskar’gam (no inbuilt weapons)
Only weapons are:
LPD-34 Cracken Combat Knife - a bandlier of throwing knives along her right thigh, one hidden in each boot. Beskar hilt and tang, vibro blade with repulser lift for up to 50 meters range when thrown
LPD-28 Silver Talon Series Vibro Beskad made with Beskar so it can be utilized against a Lightsaber. Effectively a silent weapon, even vs. species with enhanced hearing. Also much denser than it appears, so it can withstand multiple parries of a Lightsaber.
Tag: [ Darth Senthral ] [ Darth Tennacus ]

The armor was loose upon Jhira’s frame. Speed healing, the grueling fight, the tension of this odd captivity had melted away muscle tone and hampered her agility. Or maybe it was the infusion of the Dark, with such intensity, for so very long. Or the Nether. Her mind flinched away from the thought. But whatever the cause, Jhira’s skin felt hot and her armor awkward. It was heavy; far too heavy, even with all her weapons missing. Even her gauntlets had been crippled; she was not defeating the two Sith Lords, then their powerful droid, and stealing their ship to go home.

But she had dreamt of it, all the way here.

Shaking hands snapped closed the concealing helmet, and she felt as if she could breathe again. The droid brain had been damaged, but was now in working order, her antimatter systems fully on line. The diagnostics programs came back clean … but then they would. Whoever had cleaned and mended her armor would assuredly have taken care of that little problem. Death Watch; it had to have been Death Watch. They were surely the only group allied with the MAW that could work Beskar. Surely?

Pacing after the Master with Darth Senthral felt natural, by now; the thought sent fear shivering down her spine. Even in her armor, the Dark Lord towered over her. His words were insidious, powerful; Jhira merely heard them, and an impossible wind swept over her skin, tugged upon her hair, the touch cool and terrifying - impossible, even. Her jaw locked upon a protest; something had occurred to her during her time with them, deny it though she might. As if lightening stuck too close, her skin electrified; hairs stood on end and soft surges of power whispered over her. Spinning on her toes, Jhira turned in shear, spinal reflex to face the direction of greatest threat. Something out there hungered. That her move put the Master at her back made her heart pound. The instinct to trust the Dark Lord was going to get her killed. The two Darths had both worked hard to build that reflexive, instinct level association of them with protection and safety. Had been so careful to observe every custom and usage of an honorable capture of a foe. Indeed, she was bitterly aware of how much she owed them both. Such time spent with the Death Watch or the MAW would not have left her sane.

Her eyes and sensors swept over the area where the storm was brewing, yet she felt nothing, not as they meant it, she was sure. Nearly sure. Ever since she’d breathed the Dark Power in, there were very physical manifestations whenever the Force reached out to torment and seduce her. Tearing her eyes from a sky she swore was darkening with an oncoming storm, she studied the ancient world they had come to.

Lehon. An exquisite blue world, with deep forests vanishing into the distance. Yet it was oddly empty, and far too quiet. Shadows sharpened and grew anywhere her gaze settled. A strange, languorous heat rippled from the Dark Lord, but even he could not dwarf the sense of threat the strange, silent winds brought with them.

He spoke again, the words poetic and powerful. Jhira shuddered once, for the sky darkened, as their combined attention summoned the threat closer. She ached for a weapon she did not have, aware once again she must rely upon Darth Senthral and his Master for her own safety.

Schooling her voice to calm, she asked, “I thought the power simply was, not that it was anchored physically? Schism in the Force? Do you mean Light and Dark, or something else?” Even as she spoke, the words echoed hollowly and some great presence loomed. She stepped back, taking up position for a proper formation with the two Darth Lords.

Darth Senthral murmured quietly, smooth voice encouraging her to master her fears, his Dark presence irrationally soothing. Yet she knew they considered trust a weakness. A trap.

And power the only answer; power to flee this place.

Baffled and confused, she raised a hand as if the feeble gesture might stop the onrushing storm power.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

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It was a test above anything. The power that lurked there was strong in the dark side; and yet, it was as subtle as the ripples of water bugs plopping along the surface. No manner of Jedi would feel it, lest they attune themselves to more freeing aspects of the Force. It called out as a voice that spoke no words; a whistle in the winds that never blew. Tennacus had already discovered its source. He only needed to see if she could feel it for herself. How flexible her emotions were to their followings of the Force.

It was safe to say that she didn't disappoint.

The Sith Lord progressed forward, stretching out to the Force to make itself known. He wanted something from this place, but it also wanted something from him. Power often fell into the hands of those who knew how to take it; but worthiness could come at great sacrifice. There was a strong demand to see such tenacity. The tides struck the rocks with sudden aggression, the once still clouds darkened and curled over the skies, massing above them until the landing site fell beneath a shadow. Trees curled on silent winds, and the air grew thick and heavy, as if an ocean had suddenly ascended over them. Breathing became noticeably difficult, even with his mask cupped around his mouth. Tennacus knew what he had to do to show his worth. To show the tenacity of his spirit that would lead him to the secrets in the dark.

Without hesitation, Tennacus tore the mask from his face let the pain flood through him. His chest came alive with a rush and ache that coursed through his lungs like liquid fire, with each breath down his wind pipe straining as if a thousand shards of glass had been inhaled. He threatened to drop to his knees, but the Force suspended the Sith Lord where he stood, as if an intangible support had threw itself before him, catching the weight of his frame. The sands beneath his feet swept outwards in all directions, ascending into whirlwinds of grains, grit and rubble. The aspect of pain was fuel to a Sith Lord. Willingly exposing one's self to it distanced the extent of their power - something the Jedi struggled to learn. But where they remained ignorant the Sith would revel. The pain that coursed through Darth Tennacus had driven his body almost to the brink of collapse as the dark side pulled on his tolerance further and further. But in doing so, it carried him to truths that he longed to uncover. The dark side had seen him worthy of such knowledge; his willingness to embrace pain had opened doorways to ancient truths.

The whirlwinds of sand were no unexplainable phenomena. The Force had summoned them, manifesting aspects of the past as shadows moving through the skies. The clouds parted high above them, and the elongated nose of an ancient, sleek ship descended onto the surface, synchronising with the whirlwinds of the Force that moved around them. Immovable in his meditative trance, Tennacus' eyes rolled back in their sockets as his mask floated away from his fingers into the air beside him. He may not have physically seen the ship before him like Jhira Mereel and Darth Senthral , but he could see it through the Force, and feel the immense power of its pilot.

A man stepped off the strange silhouette of the craft, noticeably lean, dark and heavy in his aura. The dark side was ever strong in him; his eyes burned like yellow flames, fuelled by his deep association with the Force. His bald head caught the light of the sun peaking through the clouds, fading only when his ghostly shape moved through Tennacus and stood before the trees. One image of it continued between the trees; three others materialised in its wake, splitting off to approach all three individuals who had come to Lehon. And in their ghostly shapes, one word echoed through the Force to reach all their ears. Another piece of the grand, never ending puzzle of wisdom.

"Dxun."