Side by Side ... by Side [First Order Dominion of Anoat Sector Hex]

[Isla Ashen]

Summit, Cloud City
Post: 5

Isla crouched atop a tall building that overlooked the whole of Cloud City. Her dark cloak was pulled in around her, but her hood was left to billow lightly around her shoulders. Locks of flame red were tamed back into a loose plait, and green eyes were focused on the world below. Though she had quite an affinity for natural surroundings, she had to admit that the city was a lovely sight. However, Isla was not here to enjoy the scenery, she had been ordered to guard the Summit building in anticipation of a guest list that included: political leaders from various words, nobles, and First Order officials – all of the important people.

While there had not been any standing threats, or a large cause for concern, it was deemed appropriate for one member of the Ren to be present... just in case. And it was just the perfect duty for a Neophyte like Isla. She was still fairly new to the fold, her training was progressing, and the Citadel on Dosuun was beginning to feel like home. Even though she had taken part in group training sessions, she had yet to be paired with a master. She had tasted the power of the darkness, and she was eager to learn the ways of the Ren, so she was content to take any opportunity that came to her.

She leaned forward slightly, looking down towards the small figures walking on the streets below.

“Just like ants...” She remarked quietly, smirking.

But the smirk did not remain for long, Isla’s emerald eyes narrowed slightly. There was a presence nearby, she could feel the darkness. It was a familiar feeling, as she felt this type of power in the company of her fellow Ren... but she knew that there were others that used the darkness too, this quality did not automatically make someone a friend. She lowered herself below the ledge, for now she would remain still and alert.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 7
Hoth

It was hard to say whether Decima was making any progress, since she wasn't sure what she was digging at, or for. She sliced a rough approximation of a circle in the snow, about a foot deep, and then sliced it in eighths, like a cake, then began to heave each wedge out, and toss it aside. Ten minutes later, she was repeating the process with a second layer, and then a third, until she finally reached something harder. She didn't know if it was rock or what until, after cutting two-thirds of the way through the crude circle, the ground gave a little. Decima narrowed her eyes. That shouldn't be happening. She made to clamber up the funneling walls, but as she stepped towards it, there was a horrible shrieking sound and the floor gave way entirely, like the lid of a mostly-opened can of beans turned upside down, and Decima was dropped two meters into blackness, landing hard on a flat surface.

The impact blew the wind from her lungs, and she lay, dazed, for a moment before sitting up and looking around. She waved her lightsaber around, illuminating her surroundings more than the light filtering from the hole she cut open allowed. She appeared to be in a ... hallway? Had she hit her head on something hard? What was this place? She stood up and paced a little ways down the hall, coming to a cave-in. "Well, that's that," she said, then turned and walked back the other way.

"Where the hell am I?"

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 7/38
Location: Bespin
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: 6 (build a ski resort on Mt. Ison)

Because the meals were so expensive, there were only five or six clients at any given time inside the 100-Credit Diner, despite it having 20 tables for two people apiece or so. Clearly the Troig running it must not have been in his best shape when he gave that name to the establishment. Sure business travelers were usually more willing to eat at more upscale restaurants, but there were about five or six fine dining restaurants where the patrons would be getting their pre-flight meals in the spaceside section of Cloud City's spaceport alone. Once Dunames was done eating her crab au gratin, served in a silver-plated couvert made of quadranium at its core (polished quadranium doesn't have the same feel but is often used as a cheap substitute for silver platters), the WA-7 droid comes back to her and hands her a desserts menu, standing there to take her order. The choices were appetizing to say the least: a muja fruit cheesecake, Ewok donuts, Jawa juice-flavored crème brûlée... Jawas on Ringo Vinda took responsibility for making their own Jawa juice, which should be renamed Jawa beer because it is highly similar in fabrication procedure to beer.

"One Jawa juice crème brûlée, please"

"Jawas... their juice is a beer. I guess you want to drink Jawa juice too?"

"No thanks. Tacking on a Jawa juice to a crème brûlée with some in it will make me unable to fly back to Hoth"

"You're a pilot, right... what kind of spacer would be able to eat here regularly?"

"I often eat at TKFC, where their two-piece specials are common. I've even eaten some with stormtroopers on my last mission to Thakwaa and later Ryoone"

 

[Kriel Firin]

[member="Isla Ashen"]

He noted the position of the presence and moved towards it. It was above him, no doubt on the outside of one of the taller buildings. As he strode, he searched for the aura once more and once he was sure where it was located, he entered the appropriate building and headed for the nearest lift.

As he ascended, having told the squad to remain behind, he considered how far he'd come since he was last here. Recently knighted, he had just chosen his Ren name.

Talon Ren.

He took the name oddly from a Sith. This one had been cold and dispassionate, and followed the commands of her leader without question or hesitation. This was something he appreciated. She was also unmerciful - not precisely unheard of within Dark-siders but held little regard for her life, accepting death if it was the will of her Masters. Once more, Kriel empathised with this.

And she cared little for ruling, serving was enough for her - and this separated her from most of the Sith Kriel had studied. She was more like a Knight of Ren than a Sith in his experience. Albeit it was limited.

The lift doors opened and Kriel headed through a crowded restaurant and opened a window onto a narrow ledge, before strolling around outside until he came upon the source of the aura. He was sure he recognised her, but approached her slowly, in case he shocked her into doing something rash.

 

[Kellyn Muir]

First Order Summit
Cloud City, Bespin
[ 2/20 ]

Corvo was given the warm greeting he expected. The senior moff made the introductions between himself and the others, and he was greeted just as warmly by one Marzena Choi, the First Order's cultural attache, as she extended her hand in the same manner he had his.

"Likewise.", Corvo greeted with a slight nod of the head.

Also now acquainted with the high colonel was Max Fel, another newer moff whose chief interest seemed to be industry within the First Order, as well as Sioux Chambers, Moff Fortan's personal aide.

Now that that was out of the way, all that lie ahead was the summit in and of itself. Everyone seemed to have pre-designated roles, or at least specialties for the summit. Everyone but the military moff. That would be something easily remedied though, as Corvo was a highly adaptable person to almost all situations. Such adaptability could likely explain his rise to prominence within the First Order's military. Propaganda - or to everyone outside the inner circle, public affairs. That is what he would use to lure the representatives into the fold, and that is what he would use to keep them there. They'd never want to leave! And if they did, well...things wouldn't end well for them.

In addition to his interest in propaganda, he'd likely be the subject matter expert for military strengths and strategies, and would be able to answer to governance as well. He did intend on ruling as a military man. It would bring a certain degree of order to everything.

"Is there something we're waiting on?", he asked curiously.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Marzena Choi"] | [member="Max Fel"]

 

[Isla Ashen]

Summit, Cloud City
Post: 6

Isla craned her neck as she looked around the rooftop, the presence was growing closer. Her fingertips found the ledge, and she let her head peek up and over. The entry way to the summit was no longer bustling with people; she guessed that most of the notable figures had already entered. Soon they would begin the discussions. A few moments passed, Isla remained crouched next to the ledge, a few strands of her flame-hued hair blowing in the breeze.

Her eyes shifted to the side, the source of the dark presence had found her. Slowly she turned her head, watching a familiar form approach. Like most Knights of Ren, he was clad in their signature black robes. It was [member="Kriel Firin"], and he walked slowly forward, almost as if he was approaching an unfamiliar animal and feared getting bitten. Isla’s head tilted to the side as she regarded him, she had heard the news that he had recently been knighted. He was now allowed deep within the chambers of the Citadel, a place where she could not yet tread.

She had seen Kriel on Dromund Vatsu, though she had not fraternized with him like she did with the others that had been present. Isla did not move to stand, she just watched carefully.

“I am capable of watching over the Summit,” She started, “In case that is why you have come here.”

Did they not think her able enough to complete her task? Isla did not know what kind of reputation she had among the other Ren, perhaps she had not even been with them long enough to have one.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 8
Bespin Summit

"We're not waiting on anything, necessarily," Natasi said, glancing sidelong at Sioux and narrowing her eyes menacingly. She would have to give Ms. Chambers a lesson on etiquette, she decided, but the timing wasn't right, and she was loathe to rebuke her staff in front of ... well, anyone. "The formal talks won't begin until tomorrow. Right now we're supposed to be laying the groundwork. I don't think we'll have any trouble, since -- " she paused as someone wandered by, and she dragged her finger across her bottom lip and held it vertically. When the risk had passed, Natasi cleared her throat and looked around apologetically. "At any rate, what we need to be doing now is meeting people, laying the groundwork for tomorrow. Use whatever tools you have at your disposal to get them comfortable with us before we begin."

This was -- strictly speaking -- not necessarily true. By and large, the talks were a distraction technique. Planetary leadership was there so that they couldn't be at home -- particularly the Anoat leadership -- when other things were happening there. The talks were for the papers, to show the First Order in a positive light, to get pictures of people shaking hands and sipping champagne and looking generally important and stylish. Natasi had to get the agreement of the Anoat leadership, but after that stage of Operation Shatterpoint she suspected the present nobles, already sympathetic to the First Order's cause, would be chomping at the bit to put pen to paper.

[member="Marzena Choi"] | [member="Max Fel"] | [member="Corvo Santagar"]

 

[Darth Veles]

“What the kark?!”

Loud exclamations and gasps of surprise came from behind Veles’ back and continued to resonate through the chillingly silent hallways. Clueless about what had just happened in front of their very eyes, the rebels frantically searched the spot where their new ally used to be. He was there one second, about to challenge the turret and its fearsome barrage – poof! – and he existed no more, vanishing from existence. Before the shroud of invisibility wore off, the Sith Lord made his way past the turret and collapsed the moment his body got behind the safety of a corner. Intense sharp pain needled its way into his sides, a toll for employing one of the signature powers of his and spending too much strength on it. It was worth it though; with the rebels standing on the wrong side of the turret, Veles had a relatively free reign over this part of the ship. Only the defence systems had any power of stopping him now, and that would not last forever either. As soon as his stamina came back, he’d continue towards the security console that patiently waited for him in one of the upcoming rooms.

Avreet’s eyes drifted over the damaged walls and icicles that hung from the ceiling. Another moan of metal washed over the ship like an eerie, followed by silence. No clanks of droid footsteps to so far, a good sign that prompted Veles to act with haste and recover more of the strength he had lost in the fall. After becoming one with the Dark Side again, diving into the dark sea, a ripple dancing on its surface made him acutely aware of another Force user’s presence, one quite familiar to the amphibious Sith Lord, having worked alongside her in the recent past. Veles smiled upon sensing his newest ally – her signature radiating sharpness and determination was a welcome sign she had managed to get into the ship, thus creating another way inside and out. Brushing against her signature with his own, the Sith imprinted several words into her mind.

“And so you have joined the party, lady Fortan. I will meet up with you as soon as I disable the ship’s security – please, feel free to show the First Order’s hospitality to any rebel you come across.”

[member="Decima Fortan"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel listened as [member="Isla Ashen"] spoke. He remembered her now - the one that wore mud as something of a badge of pride. She was brave and seemed selfless, clearly attributes that Kriel considered useful if she aspired to climb the ranks of the Knights of Ren.

He may be a recently knighted member of the order, but his training had been intense and he was as knowledgeable as most. His talents were still some way from being a Master, but he was not in any hurry. He believed he was worthy and in time would ascend to the lofted title - when his powers would be unparalleled. But that was some way in the future.

"You were on Dromund Vatsu." It was more a statement than a question and he ignored her initial question - at least for now. "Tell me, the leader of the expedition was a Sith. A servant of the First Order, but none the less a Sith. Is that how you see your abilities developing, apprentice to someone like him?"

Kriel was aware that Darth Veles was not a typical Sith - if any existed - but he was keen to hear what Isla aspired to.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 8/38
Location: Bespin
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: 6 (build a ski resort on Mt. Ison)

Now that her meal was over, it was time for her to leave the 100-Credit Diner behind. Also she had cherished that moment where she could actually eat something better than these fast-food joints either onboard Star Tours flights where, as a pilot, she is entitled to eat much the same stuff the passengers are eating. She promptly returns to the spaceport, where, as a pilot, she just stays there awaiting the permission to depart to Hoth, laden with supplies for the ski station. The ski station is one thing, but even once the ski station is complete, one has to build a proper spaceport: the First Order estimates that there may be a need for about 4-5 gates initially. But that was not for Star Tours to build the spaceport itself: that was to be left to a bidding process led by the First Order Ministry of Transportation. Now that she re-entered the AT-AT barge, she was going to be flying back to Hoth. That iceberg needed extra equipment while the Skels didn't notice it yet.

"Captain, the cargo is in position, you may depart when ready"

"Roger, Cloud City stevedoring"

"We do not want to keep Frank and Virginie waiting, do you?" Merrily told Dunames.

"Probably not..."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 9
Hoth - Ice Fishing

The mental presence of her master, [member="Darth Veles"], was still novel enough to be surprising and somewhat unpleasant to the Neophyte. She had not yet gotten the hang of sending words back, but she could manage vague sensations. She tried to impress reassurance upon her Master's psyche -- the sensation that she was there to help, and would. This left her rather lightheaded and with a small headache, but no more worse for the wear. She walked past the hole she had cut and continued; the deckplates were uneven, as if the ship had crashed hard and jostled everything inside. But some systems were still active, if the security fields were still operational.

Decima found a turbolift and, on a lark, pressed the call button. Nothing happened, but she hadn't expected it to. She felt Veles' presence had been below her, and if the shaft was unobstructed, perhaps she could descend rather quickly. She didn't bother trying to pry the iced-shut doors open, instead taking the lightsaber to them with gusto. She kicked the doors into the shaft and then listened as they clattered down, down, down. This should go deep enough, she decided, unhooking her grappling hook from her belt. She swung it over a bar at the top of the shaft and tested her weight before swinging into the middle of the shaft and letting the reel go, letting her descend quietly.

You know, except for the heavy door panels which had caused the rebels to investigate. But she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

 

[Darth Veles]

Feasting on his own pain wasn’t the healthiest of diets, but Veles had little choice at this point. To slip into the Light Side and use the restorative Force heal required peace and calm state of mind, inner serenity. While quite capable of achieving that and utilizing the kinder and more compassionate aspect of the Force, the urgency hanging in the air pushed the Sith into embracing his primary source of power. It was natural, so frighteningly easy to slip into. Hatred wasn’t hard to conjure, quite the opposite – memories of the One Sith and its leaders, their sheer level of incompetency that went hand in hand with failure, followed by the fatal fiasco the Black Rose had turned out to be. No other way than Bane’s path remained open for him. If he had to discard Darth Zarrah and assume her role of a messiah, then so it would be.

He hated the very though and thus focused on it the most.

Slowly, raw energy coming from the inextinguishable flames of passion burning within his heart started to fill Veles’ body. This process reminded the Mon Cal of the studies on Korriban; perhaps it was the intimate knowledge of Sith ways and thousands of meditations that helped the Sith Lord recover, borrowing more and more strength to temporarily overcome the wounds. Effective, yet also harmful – the Dark Side left the legendary levels of pain untouched and silently promised to come later and collect all the strength the Sith had borrowed. Such was its nature. Unforgiving and having no mercy for those too weak to control it.

When Veles’ large bulbous eyes opened, they possessed a distinctive yellow hue, one of the most positive signs of Dark Side corruption taking its toll on his physical form. Unaware and indifferent, mind focused solely on the goal of disabling the droids and leaving this massive metal coffin, the amphibious Sith strode forward, driven by purpose. Droids of several sizes and armament fell prey to the pure manifestation of the Dark Side pouring from the Darth’s fingertips, all unfortunate enough to get in his way, all becoming a motionless heap of scrap filling the warship’s dead hallways, never to get up again.

[member="Decima Fortan"]

 

[Marzena Vaas]

Summit, Cloud City
Post 7

“Well then, it looks like it’s time to mingle.” Marzena offered a smile to her companions, and bowed her head politely as she stepped away. Her dark eyes scanned the crowd that had gathered, and she noticed that there were several small groups here and there. For a moment she stood with a hand resting gently on her hip, as she tried to decide where to start. Her attention shifted as a man presented her with a fine glass of champagne, but she shook her head in gently, holding up a hand to decline. But over the top of his tray, she spotted two young men looking her way.

Inside, her heart was still anxious, but she threw on a bright smile for the sake of their guests. Marzena strode confidently over to the two men, and she held her hand out to introduce herself, but it seemed that they already knew her.

“You are Marzena Choi, the singer, right?” One of them asked.

Marzena nodded, as she listened to their introductions – two young nobles from Anoat. After a few moments of lighthearted conversation, she learned that their fathers were both represented their families, and were also in attendance. Marzena also learned that the younger generation seemed to be open to the idea of the First Order, as they did like to frequent worlds like Bespin. Their fathers, however, would take some convincing... it seemed that Moff Fortan and the other officials would have their work cut out for them. She was feeling thankful that her own role here was a bit more lighthearted.

“Will you be performing for us, Ms. Choi?”

“Oh, I’m afraid not.” She smiled, “I am here today as a Cultural Attaché for the First Order.”

Even if her title was honorary, and not directly tied with the government offices, she had to admit that it sounded rather nice.

[member="Corvo Santagar"], [member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Davin Jusik]

Objective: https://youtu.be/3PbdyJ_ybSI

Allies: ALL FO Ground Forces on Hoth. On mobile, tags will come later

Enemies: Rebs

Post 2

Amin briefly acknowledged the stealth vessel that had touched down nearby. He wasn't entirely sure what their assignment was but really didn't mind their presence so long as they didn't give him away. A boom echoed from somewhere to the north west. An explosion of some sort.

"Well our job just got a bit more interesting." Amin mumbled as the ball of clothing his sniper compatriot had been watching shifted from inactivity. "Best get ready to go now." He said to the SSGT before tapping the man on the shoulder. The sniper nodded before centering his cross hairs on the chest of the guard. One slight squeeze sent a bolt of plasma into the enemy's chest, sending him flying backwards into the hard surface behind him. The guard twitched slightly as the life began to leave his body.

Amin and the other two operatives moved forward while their sniper watched their asses. They crept through the snow like ancient artic predators.

 

[OK-3103]

[member="Sentiri"] [member="Hyori Tal"]

Meneer did his usual homework before he reached the planet. The planet may be largely a wasteland — but the rocky surface was rich with ore. Handy, as long as you could put up with the deadly winds that were charged with clouds of carbon dust.

For once he was travelling alone. At least without a squad of troopers in tow. He had arranged to meet a couple of others from the First Order and he was late. Would they notice? He was sure they would.

So he finally reached the cantina — if it could boast such a title. It gave low-life establishments a bad name — and that was just from the outside. Meneer double-checked the coordinates, and this was definitely the place.

He pushed open the door and realised that the smell — just like a tauntaun — was worse on the inside. Meneer scoped the joint and noticed the two he was here to meet.

He wandered to the bar and ordered a beer and made sure it came with its cap intact before flipping it and declining a glass. Then he wandered around the cantina slowly before settling in a seat opposite his contacts.

He raised hit bottle and took a tentative swig. It was foul, but it probably wouldn't kill him. Probably. “Sorry I’m late,” he said softly.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 9/38
Location: Bespin
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: 6 (build a ski resort on Mt. Ison)

The remaining prefab components being loaded to finish the first phase of the ski resort on Mount Ison, which featured some of the most incredible (read: expert-level) ski slopes in the galaxy, borderline alpinism. That is, if one liked expert-level ski slopes without trees lining it... Nelvaan had trees, whereas Ando Prime did not. Later stages will be deployed only if Hoth was secured, which was a question of time by now. But once the ship lifts off from the Bespin landing pad, Dunames maneuvered the AT-AT barge in position to mode away from Cloud City. She feels more at home in an AT-AT barge than in a TIE fighter, that's for sure. Bespin Direct must be flying hourly flights to Hoth by now, using StarSpeeder 3000s, and Frank, as well as Virginie, will be surprised to see the whole deal through in less than four hours. That was fast, especially since a Bespin-Hoth flight would last an hour or so at class 2 hyperdrive. With a dozen prefabricated chalets and a chairlift, the station will be a bit basic, but it serves its purpose. Thus far Bespin Direct toured the ice caves, offered cross-country skiing, and tauntaun riding. But many complaints directed at Bespin Direct were aimed at alpine skiing.

"Lightspeed to Hoth!"

"Roger, roger"

"Patience, Frank, Virginie, the extra supplies to deploy are almost there"

 

[Isla Ashen]

Cloud City
Post 9

Isla lowered herself down slightly, so that she could sit cross-legged, her green eyes never leaving the dark form of [member="Kriel Firin"]. If he had been sent to look after her, he had made no mention of it. There had to be some reason for his presence, she could not see him coming up to her rooftop perch to simply reminisce about their adventure on Dromund Vatsu. She lifted her chin for a moment, considering the question that he posed to her. Indeed, she remembered the power of [member="Darth Veles"] quite well. Isla especially remembered the feat he had accomplished upon reaching the outpost. The image of the bodies floating in mid-air had stayed with her, even after they had left the jungle planet.

“He is strong, his powers are great,” She started, “But his ways are not necessarily my own.”

Isla had not spent a lot of time considering the type of master she would want; instead she was content to let the right person come to find her. She was still very new to the force, and she was even still learning the differences between the Knights of Ren and those that used the dark side, but did not fall into their ranks.

“Why? Do you think I should walk the same path?"

 

[Darth Veles]

Stopping his onslaught in front of reinforced door denying any progress further, Veles turned his attention towards a control panel to his right, concealed beneath a thin layer of ice. A simple touch refused to yield any positive results, the panel stayed blank. Shattering the frozen shield and trying the same again proved to be equally fruitless, unresponsive to his commands. With the way ahead blocked, frustration and other emotions swirling through his mind made an attempt at taking hold of the Sith Lord’s thoughts, wishing him to tear the obstacle down like he had done to all the droids marking his pathway through the ghost ship’s maze. The desired method stayed only a dream though, as logic informed him the power currently under his control should not be wasted on crushing the barrier with telekinesis. Other means allowed the Mon Cal do the same thing – his cybernetic eye goggled towards the two beautifully crafted lightsaber hilts sleeping on his belt.

He had forgotten about these, drunk on the sudden surge of Dark Side coursing through his veins. A silent prayer for the security computer to be functional left his large mouth and the Mon Cal started to work on the reinforced metals in the oldest of ways known to man. Two flashes of crimson illuminated the end of the corridor in menacing red, followed by two loud hisses when both blades sunk into the door and slowly carved a new opening. Veles’ hands painted lines coloured in flaming orange, steam rose towards the frozen ceiling as the two red beams of pure energy relentlessly ate away the substances standing in their way. The door did not wait for Avreet to finish his piece and fell apart in the last stroke, producing a deafening roar upon meeting the floor. The sound ricocheted between the walls long after the impact.

Veles quit his loitering and smoothly pushed through the newly created entryway. Even before his gaze turned upwards, the Force warned him of impending danger. What awaited him on the other side were two large battle droids, the archaic and robust ancestors of the modern three-legged security enforcers. Still grasping his twin lightsabers, the Sith scanned both with the cybernetic eye before the prosthetic orb settled on what lied between the two towering guardians; the computer everyone aboard this vessel so desperately desired to reach.

“I’ve had enough of this diversion,” the amphibious Sith utters and charges.

[member="Decima Fortan"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 10
Hoth - Ice Fishing

Sure enough, the Resistance scum had heard her, and so by the time was within five six meters of the ground, one of them had stuck his head through the open door at the bottom of the shaft, followed by his shoulders and his arms, which clutched a blaster rifle and pointed at her. "Stop right there," he said menacingly. "Identify yourself and show me your hands."

"Sorry, would you mind? I'm just ... scavenging," she said, trying to put a little innocent perkiness into her posh Galidraani accent. Not bad for being on the spot. "Didn't realize there was anyone else here. I'll just go back up, shall I?"

"I said, show me your hands," the trooper said.

Decima sighed, apparently exasperated by the request. "And how do you propose I hold onto the rope if I show you my hands?" In truth, one hands was working on unfastening her grappling hook from her belt, while the other clutched the hilt of her lightsaber. The guard raised his rifle, and suddenly Decima was falling, and her blade was flashing. So focused on dispatching her enemy was Decima that she landed rather harder than she wanted to on her front, knowing that she would suffer for it later. Again, the wind had been knocked out of her, and the footfalls of approaching Resistance fighters told her she didn't have time to nurse her wounds. She heaved herself to her feet, snatched the blaster off the corpse of the Resistance fighter, who had been rather messily slashed from left shoulder to right hip, both parts of him now laying side-by-side.

She reached out for her Master in the Force. [member="Darth Veles"], she thought, searching for his unique signature in the Force as she scurried into an alcove on the opposite side of the elevator, disappearing into the darkness of the doorjamb as a pair of Resistance fighters approached from the hall. They barely had time to utter their shock at seeing their comrade slashed into pieces before Decima turned their compatriot's blaster against them, shooting them both down before they could turn to defend themselves.

 

[Kriel Firin]

Cloud City

Kriel contemplated the young woman. He still thought of himself by his given name — Talon Ren was something he’d have to grow into. And he suspected it would take a little time.

She sat now before him, clearly not intimidated or awed by him — which conflicted him. They were both on the same side yet perhaps he expected his rank to have some effect on her. Or perhaps that was just his mindset and maybe he was over-exaggerating his importance. Compared to a Sith Master, he was of minimal significance in the galaxy. And perhaps her comfort in his presence was a positive? And maybe, just maybe, he was overthinking things.

Her answer was intriguing. Positive yes, but he could easily be reading too much into the words. Darth Veles was powerful he would agree and similarly his path was not one Kriel would pursue.

Her final question caused him to pause for a second or two. But only that long. “Your path is your own.” He was a firm believer that people travelled where they wanted — regardless of advice or coercion. If she wanted to be a Knight of Ren, it was a decision only she could make. Kriel could teach her, but so could a Sith.

“I’m sure if you ask ten Force Users, you would get ten different answers. The abilities are the same, Sith, Jedi, Knight of Ren. They all use the same Force. What defines each of those groups is what they do with the power. Even the term ‘Sith’ can mean so many different things to people. There are generalisations but there are also exceptions to every rule.”

He stood impassively, looking out at the horizon. “Tell me, what would you do with your powers? Do you seek wealth, power, fame? Or something else?”

[member="Isla Ashen"]