Vereaux
Mr. Dizzy Man
Sorin Vanado
"Be all my sins remembered."
Image Credit: Nobuhiro Watsuki || Face Claim: Himura Kenshin from Rurouni Kenshin
Sorin Voice: Steven Blum when he voiced Spike Spiegel
Sorin Images: {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x}
Face Claim: Tom Hiddleston for "The Darkness aka Vorin Loracus"
Darkness Voice: Tom Hiddleston when he voiced Loki
Voice Claim: Unknown "AI" construct
"AI" Construct Voice: Jennifer Lee Taylor when she voiced Cortana in the Halo Series
Face Claim: Michael Wincott for "Michael Vanado"
Michael Vanado Voice: Michael Wincott when he voiced Top Dollar
Face Claim: Cliff Simon for "Markus Valthrium"
Markus Voice: Cliff Simon when he voiced Ba'al
Face Claim: Hugh Laurie for "{Unknown}"
{Unknown} Voice: Hugh Laurie when he voiced Gregory House
~ Basic Information ~"Be all my sins remembered."
Image Credit: Nobuhiro Watsuki || Face Claim: Himura Kenshin from Rurouni Kenshin
Sorin Voice: Steven Blum when he voiced Spike Spiegel
Sorin Images: {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x} {x}
Face Claim: Tom Hiddleston for "The Darkness aka Vorin Loracus"
Darkness Voice: Tom Hiddleston when he voiced Loki
Voice Claim: Unknown "AI" construct
"AI" Construct Voice: Jennifer Lee Taylor when she voiced Cortana in the Halo Series
Face Claim: Michael Wincott for "Michael Vanado"
Michael Vanado Voice: Michael Wincott when he voiced Top Dollar
Face Claim: Cliff Simon for "Markus Valthrium"
Markus Voice: Cliff Simon when he voiced Ba'al
Face Claim: Hugh Laurie for "{Unknown}"
{Unknown} Voice: Hugh Laurie when he voiced Gregory House
~ Alias: Unknown
~ Homeworld: Unknown
~ Residence: N/A
~ DoB: 815 ABY
~ Age: Appears in early 20s
~ Species: Human
~ Height: 158 cm or 5 foot 2 inches
~ Weight: About 175 pounds
~ Hair Color: Red
~ Eye Color: Vividly violet, but when using the darkside, a piercing gold
~ Skin Color: Caucasian
~ Status ~
~ Force Sensitive: Yes
~ Force Alignment: Dark Oriented
~ Sexuality: Straight
~ Marital Status: Single
~ Occupation: Assassin
~ Affiliation: One Sith, Sith Assassins, and Assassins Guild
~ Sith Rank: Acolyte
~ Assassin's Guild Rank: S Tier
~ Wealth: Highly
~ Appearance ~
What can be said? He's the handsome, sexy guy; but he's short. Well-toned and fit, he's a bit light for his stature, and has been so for most of his life, thankfully without any negative side effects, aside from the need to eat large amounts of food. With flaming red hair atop his head, he is proud of this trait, an inheritance from his mother according to his father. It's kept slightly long to cover his ears, some of the front, while the back is left to grow freely. On any day, the back is tied into a knot near the nape of his neck, and allowed down from there. What's even more blazing is his violet eyes: solid, clear, and sharp. They're confident, strong, and damn mesmerizing. When he calls upon the Darkside, his eyes will shift to a gold unlike any other: a piercing gold that chills one to their soul. On most occasions, he will wear whatever is needed for the environment, ranging from jeans and shirt, to full winter gear. If allowed under appropriate circumstances, he will wear a black and red obi kimono top and hakama.
~ Personality ~
Sorin is the passing moody gunslinger who only draws when he must die. If one believed that sentence for a second when speaking to him, they'd find out that he's not anything like that at all. He would then have to question their capability of thinking and whether they have common sense or not...or he's really that f*cking confusing. Sorin is the type of man who will not only make witty remarks toward the people and world around him, he goes even further to make sure that who he meets questions his own sanity. Sarcasm and the world of crazy insanity; and an nerf herder, but true insanity is knowing that the world is crazier than you are. He likes himself the way he is, so he can laugh at people's faces when they start walking away. He neither cares about people's opinion of him, nor does he go out seeking it. If he cared, he would have dyed his hair black a long time ago. He cares for his own well-being and whether or not he can provide for himself to keep up with the demanding lifestyle he lives. The measure of a person is not their looks, or money, but their intellect; otherwise we'd have a world of idiots in power. People have their own problems as it is, and all of it is about as relative to him as is someone questioning why we exist: it just is. People find meaning in many different things, whether in life, sex, food, or the damn swamp monster. As relative as everyone is, what gets to people is this: how relative are you? His answer: not at all.
To say that last bit and mean it, it's easy to say something, but he puts up barriers; he puts up this giant wall between him and the outside world. His life has never been one for caring. To bottle up your feelings, any kind and good thought that pops into your head and smash it with a hammer, that's how he was raised: and he hated it. The sarcasm? A giant glorious front that keeps everyone else out and himself in his own dark corner of his mind and body, to be one with the shadows; to make sure he stays there. He has always been strong, possessing an incredible amount of will, noticing tiny details and bits of information: a quick study. He's a thinker. He trained himself to think from the perspectives of the masses, the people, their hardships and losses, their dreams and fears, their nightmares and hell holes, and every inch of happiness, twisted together by their grief and pain. And he had deemed them not worth anything. His job...his kills...he did it as part of what his family trained him to do, but also for himself, so that this way, he didn't have to deal with the idiots continuing to live. His life has centered around his trade, his job, and family heritage. He was trained to not rely on his emotions, not to be but cold and stricken. For most of his life, that's what he was, and for most of his life, that is what he still is. Except there is one tiny part of him inside that keeps him going: Anger. Rage. This anger was born when he was 17, and since then, his efficiency has only kept going up.
~ Training ~
The Vanado Clan were known in the underground to be highly effective assassins, and it was in this clan, sometimes called a family, that he learned the skills and traits of what it meant to be an assassin. Among his life-long training, he learned of the Vanado Code, known collectively as the Three Paradoxes:
~ Paradox of Life: Never directly confront a target. Meant to teach that one's presence, whether to kill the target or to talk to them, is an emotional attachment. By recognizing this, the clan set themselves to minimize it.
~ Paradox of Self: Never admit weakness. In their training, they must work upon their weaknesses to better understand them, and in so doing, admit they have them. This teaches that weakness is not something to advertise, but to respect, to fear, and to use.
~ Paradox of Pride: Never compromise. A compromise is a bargain, for doing so means one does not get all the deal. A Vanado gets everything, or no one does.
In the life of assassins, there were many things he had to learn. Since having been on his own, however, he has had to do his own training, but finds himself lacking. This in part could be because he does not try to draw attention to himself. He limits himself by accepting contacts to kill smaller targets, and therefore he minimizes his exposure to gossip and fame. In so doing, he limits the tests of his abilities. By never accepting contacts of higher paid assassinations, he limits himself. This is going to change quite quickly.
On a percent rating scale of Novice (0-15%), Competence (15-40%), Proficiency (40-70%), Expertise (70-90%), and Mastery (90-100%).
~ Computer Hacking (Proficiency: 45%): Capable of hacking into many different systems, he's used this skill to a great degree. Without even a slicer, he has hacked security doors by making the codes needed on the fly. His downside, however, is his lack of understanding of the higher forms of cyber warfare.
~ Demolitions (Competence: 25%): Knowing his way around the use of grenades, taking them apart, and using each component within them, his skills run dry when faced with higher end explosives.
~ Drugs, Medicine, and First Aid (Competence: 23%): Forced many a time to bandage himself up, and being capable of recognizing various medicines, drugs, and poisons, he is lacking in the finer art of their chemistry.
~ Espionage (Proficiency: 52%): To be edited...
~ Hand-Held Blasters (Competence: 35%): To be edited...
~ Martial Arts (Proficiency: 41%): To be edited...
~ Mechanics and Engineering (Competence: 30%): To be edited...
~ Psychology (Proficiency: 40%): To be edited...
~ Sniper Rifle (Proficiency: 55%): To be edited...
~ Swordsmanship (Proficiency: 52%): To be edited...
~ Force Abilities ~
At present, he has not been taught any Force Powers or Lightsaber forms, at least in any formal setting. Over time, however, he had developed naturally a few abilities that have become crucial to his survival. Due to the intervention of forces he has yet to understand, he has gained access to more abilities than ever before.
~ Force Speed (Novice: 5%): To be edited...
~ Force Fear (Novice: 4%): To be edited...
~ Force Sense (Novice: 3%): To be edited...
~ Force Precognition (Novice: 2%): To be edited...
~ Tutaminis (Novice: 1%): To be edited...
~ Possessions ~
~ Various Blasters: Thanks to the mercenary group he encountered, he was able to find a crate possessing many verities of blasters, allowing him a few different options in combat. Unfortunately, however, no sniper rifles.
~ Modified Rifles: All of the mercenaries held modified standard Republic rifles, but nothing too terribly good. Can be helpful in a pinch regardless.
~ Various Grenades: Along with the weapons, he was able to acquire many different times of grenades, from percussion to sonic to smokescreen. Makes for a lengthy selection, but unfortunately limited number as they are used.
~ YT-2000: And finally, the ship in which Sorin acquired from the mercenaries. An overall decent ship, but something he hopes to replace in the future with a more powerful model.
~ Voices ~
At this current moment, he has encountered voices in his head that have appeared over his life. He isn't sure yet if they are caused by neurological activities, chemical imbalances, a psychological break, or something more. Whatever is causing them, it's strange.
~ Male Voice: At some point shortly after landing on Korriban for the first time, a male voice began to speak to him at random intervals. After Sorin's emergence back into the galaxy eight years later, the voice became a powerful presence in his mind, taking over his body, and performing feats unlike anything Sorin has done before. While these actions have saved Sorin's life and granted him access to abilities he never knew existed, having one's body taken over does not sit well with Sorin.
~ Female voice: Unlike the male voice, this one woke Sorin from his suspended animation, and guided him through the station to safety. Unsure what to make of her, she has so far been a presence to bounce ideas off of, and makes remarks to the events going on in his life. Also unlike the male voice, she has not taken over Sorin's body at any point, but Sorin is unsure if she can.
~ Strengths/Weaknesses ~
Sorin is many things, but there are times where he feels as if he's not anything at all. He's great with using blasters and rifles, even more when he feels a sword in his hand. Computers are like boxes to him: there's just more than one way to open it with different keys. Over his life as an assassin, he's had to learn to understand people. In his life, if he cannot think critically, he might as well already be dead. It became an almost mandatory requirement for his clan, if not for living. To learn, he must ask questions, and he can shoot them off a thousand miles a minute. When he tracks his targets, this is a standard, instinctual process for him. Does he work? What's his job? Does he have family? How long has he been here? What's he allergic to? What are his fears? By asking, and by observation, he begins to develop an understanding of his targets, learning about them and everything around them. And in retrospect, part of his experience has been guided by his ability to use the Force instinctively, without even knowing. The little he can do, he does well.
His training had an adverse effect on his life, however. He has become emotionally numb to his job, fleeting feelings barely a whisper inside his mind, except for that of the anger. It's this anger that sometimes distracts him from his work, distracts him from who he is, and the inward climatic battle that's trying to rise to the surface. In his defense, he puts up emotional walls, filling his manner of speech with wit and sarcasm, and will come off as an nerf herder. He's never been able to talk openly about himself, and even less so from direct questions. The training he received as an assassin didn't help in that regard. His lack of openness has not impaired his social skills however. As an assassin, you surprisingly talk to a lot of people. A bit of a contradiction considering. The only time he's ever opened up is with children, an emotional link to his memories of when the anger inside of him first appeared. When he isn't kind, he is to them, open, even defenseless against them, an instinct within him that just shuts down all barriers. His angry from that day, those memories, is both a strength and a curse.
~ Relations ~
~ Michael Vanado: His father, and current leader of the Circle of the Assassins Guild, Sorin tries to distance himself from the position his father holds, wanting instead to live simpler in a life where one isn't a target all the time.
~ Sarah Vanado: During his childhood, he was told that she was a fine woman, but passed much too soon before he could get to know her.
~ Dumah Zohar: Considered a brother to Sorin, he does not currently know his whereabouts and wonders if he still lives.
~ Darth Ayra: Though she was the one who introduced him to the Sith, he does not know of her whereabouts either. If he had to guess, she is very much still alive.
~ Triter Zone: An Amaran he considers worthy of knowing, Sorin owes a debt to him twice over. Since their last encounter, Sorin gave him an address on the Holonet, to be used if he should ever need it.
~ Nimue Stormson: The Empress of Effekt, she is a strange, but very sensual woman. Not wanting to get on her bad side, he has refrained from interacting with her more than needed, due to her perceived bipolar nature.
~ Objectives ~
~ For myself: Figuring out how I want to order some of the events he's going to be in, and giving people the posts they deserve.
~ For Sorin: In no particular order...
~ Find out who knocked him out
~ Why he has voices in his head
~ Who put him on the bloody station
~ Find the Sith
~ Find the Assassin's Guild.
~ Find out what has been happening in the galaxy at large
~ Get resources
~ Theme Songs ~
Home by Three Days Grace
Wasteland by 10 Years
Hero by Skillet
Soldiers by Otherwise
Sick and Twisted Affair by My Darkest Days
~ Pre History ~
As the Vanado Clan is made of assassins who never stay in one place for too long, Sorin can't remember exactly where he was born. All he does know is the constant moving about, never being in one place, never allowed to become attached to anyone or anything, and never remembering a time where he himself was truly happy. The only happiness he found was in the praise he gained from his teachers when he completed his studies and assignments. He could remember strange men teaching him things, about people, about places, and even about the living existence. He could not remember once seeing his parents smile, or praise him. They were always so cold, so distance and numb. Over time, Sorin learned many things, and eventually, tried to teach himself when he became frustrated with the slow pace he was going. In reality, he was learning very quickly for such a young child, and he wanted more. Part of the reason too was because learning was his escape from his life. He didn't like the people who taught him, or even his own parents. When his mother passed away, he didn't cry. The only friend he had was another like him: Dumah Zohar. He, like Sorin, was the son of parents in a clan of assassins, named the Zohar Clan. Vanado and Zohar were both coupled clans that worked within the Assassin's Guild, taking contracts and carrying them out within the galaxy. Respected and known within the Guild, his clan never felt like home.
Both Sorin and Dumah were the same age, born on the same day, and progressed through life together as their parents sent them to the same places. Over the years, they learned together, trained together, and the two became the only family worth mentioning. When it came to swordsmanship and martial arts, he loved the practice sessions and feeling a blade in his hand, an enthusiasm that Dumah shared. While they weren't exactly "good" per say, they were skilled against each other, equaling out their skills to the point either could win during any session. Sorin was much better at rifles, yet Dumah possessed a skill at blasters that left no argument about who was better. With demolitions, they really didn't have much interest in it, but Sorin picked it up later in life to a good degree. He had a far better and superior understanding of computers and machinery, an exploitation much used in a galaxy of machines. It became like a hobby for him. The human psyche, while understood deeply by Sorin, was lacking when Dumah stepped up to understand the situation or people at hand. Their medical skills were about equal, though while he used them, Dumah despised them.
As well as things might have gone between the two of them, something happened when they reached the age of 17, 832 ABY. They were given their first solo assignment as a duo, with no supervision, no teachers, and no restrictions on the method of assassination. By this point, they were already far gone, deep into their life and without remorse for their actions. Sorin hated their life, but the credits were real, in very large supply. He thought Dumah would think the same, but some things just weren't so. Sorin would have been a hollow man today, if not for this one assignment. It was suppose to be easy: their target a married couple in Coruscant, targeted because they were unable to pay their fines to the Guild, and tried to run away. It was suppose to be an easy assignment. Dumah had already set up position with his rifle on a nearby tower, and all Sorin had to do was set up down the alleyway with his blaster, to make sure that if they escaped the sniper, they weren't going to live long. It was suppose to be easy, just like one of their previous trails. Everything went to plan: the couple walked down the street, and the crowd was none the wiser. Once within scope, Dumah fired off, and the wife went down. The crowd panicked immediately, but the husband knew what was going on. He ran; slipped into the crowd like a snake, faster than Sorin liked, and faster than he could keep up. That was their first mistake. Cursing his luck, he knew Dumah wouldn't be able to get a clean shot; so he ran after him through the side alleys, avoiding people as much as possible while maintaining visual on the target.
For all their luck, the husband had to be a clever bastard who knew what to do. Every corner was one sharp turn after another, and it was becoming difficult to keep up. Eventually, while chasing him, Sorin saw Dumah cut him off several meters ahead, just as he emerged into a large street. Dumah lined up the shot, but his view was blocked by the crowd. He couldn't be sure he'd hit his mark, if he had fired. The man ran again and both were forced to follow. Eventually, through all the running, they cornered him into a dead end of an alleyway. Dumah lined up a shot, but Sorin had already raised his own blaster, causing Dumah to pause. Sorin was frustrated and tired of this cat and mouse game. With a single thought, he fired. In that split second, Sorin saw something in his vision, behind the man in a window above. It was a child. A part of him screamed for it to stop, to make the whole planet turn upside down. He couldn't shout, couldn't move, and couldn't do anything at all but watch. The bolt went through the man and hit a container nearby. What was in it, he doesn't know to this day, but the resulting explosion sent all of them back from its shock wave, and knocked Sorin out cold. By the time he awoke, sweating and fearful, Dumah had already dragged him away to an abandoned building, and out of sight. Sorin wanted to know the damages, see if the child was alright, and left without a word. He didn't give Dumah a chance. Sorin's mind was...elsewhere. When he arrived at the site of the explosion, he saw bodies. The oil tank had become the domino chip to another explosion, and then another, and it brought an entire section down to the ground. The building was an orphanage, and the bodies of children filled the rubble. No one knew what really happened...except him.
Sorin regained a small portion of his humanity that day. As he watched, men and women crying over the children they had failed to protect, he wished for the nightmare to end. He saw children crying over the bodies of their friends, wondering what was going on, their innocence trying to comprehend the horror, and not sure what to do. A spark of anger grew from within him. Anger at Dumah, anger at the Guild, anger at his parents for all their teachings that got him here, anger at just being alive! What he was most angry at was himself. In the end, there was no one else to blame, but himself. He shot the man and caused the explosion. He destroyed the orphanage. He killed all those children. He...he needed to run, go far away, go so far away that he'll never be found again. When he returned back to their drop-point in the city, he was showered in praise from everyone, including his father. Hidden from Sorin and Dumah, this assignment had been their final assignment as apprentices of the Guild, graduating them to full status, and releasing them from their apprenticeship, now able to choose contracts they desired freely. Though praised for the assignment, Sorin felt hollow for it. To further himself from the clans that night, he left, and Dumah followed. They brought only what was needed and left everything else behind. Both of them agreed to work together as the duo they were meant to be, though Sorin would only work on assignments they needed...that he needed. For four years Sorin worked alone since that day, and he has been running ever since.
In those four years, his affinity for the Force grew, forming in a way he could not see. He didn't know he could use the Force, and by natural instinct, what he could do, he did, and through it, he became stronger for it. Unknown to him, the seed of his anger kept growing, transforming into a powerful force within him, and becoming the catalyst for his descent into darkness. He needed an outlet for his anger, and if he didn't find one soon, there was no telling what he'd end up doing. He needed to find one. By a strange twist of nature, it will be his anger that brings back his mind.
~ Tuna is Not on the Menu (Completion Improvised) ~ {836 ABY} ~
On one of his days off, Sorin had planned on taking a relaxing few days off on Dac, a vacation from the last contract he had done, but unfortunately, it was not going to be so. Daltru, his contact with the Guild that informs him of new contracts, gave him a call he couldn't refuse. The target: Don Talivin Monqato, a crime lord that didn't know how to be silent. Under normal circumstances, Sorin doesn't go after high profiles, political targets, and he accepts cash only. This particular one was worth one million credits, a total that was financed by up to 27 different companies and governments. To say this guy had a lot of enemies was an understatement. Not only was he worth more than some small fry, he was still low on the pole to not get a lot of attention should he disappear. In otherwords, no one would care who killed him, as long as he was dead. Plus: Sorin was on the planet he was about to arrive on. It was too good of a deal to pass up. Upon tracking him as soon as the ship entered the atmosphere, things went well until Don disappeared into a skyscraper in Coral City. Using the ventilation system, he got inside and found the squid head with another one of his partners, some mercenary with enough armor and weapons to be deadly by himself. Things went south from there. Overhearing the conversation between them, Sorin discovered why the bounty was set so high: he stole a cruiser from the Sith Empire. The Sith alone offered half the bounty on his head, and he realized this was way over his head. A million credits or not, things would not end well with anyone involved. In the motion of a tactical retreat, a grenade goes off, and fighting erupts between the two men and their respective bodyguards. Sorin, riding the vents down to the room below, evades notice and harm by the skin of his teeth until they leave.
In the midst of the confusion, the mercenaries mention that the cruiser is hiding in the ocean, and it gives Sorin an idea of how to salvage this mess. If he cannot get the bounty on Don's head, he can at least give the Sith the location of their cruiser. That, in and of itself, should be worth what they're offering to give for the bounty. After making a trip through the building, he comes across the computers he needs to find the location of the ship. Unfortunately, on his way down to the ground floor, he found the two groups in the hanger bay, and their blasters pointed right in his face. In the time that past between the fighting and the ground floor, they discovered they were being tracked by Sorin, and knew he was the son of Michael Vanado, his father. They planned to use him as a bargaining chip, an incentive to get money, and most likely protection. Their plan goes to sh*t when Storm Troopers bust down the hanger bay doors, and in the resulting confusion and fighting, Sorin kills Don and his mercenary partners. When Don was killed, a feeling of dread came over Sorin, and focusing on it, he somehow evaded a blaster bolt aimed for his head by a Storm Trooper behind him. With distance and speed, he disarmed and knocked out the Trooper, but was brought to gun point soon after by the other Troopers. Through some miracle in the events that followed, they determined Sorin was the one who killed Don, and he gave them the location of the cruiser the squid had stolen. They held him for a few days to confirm his information while they searched for the ship, and sure enough, they got their cruiser back. Someone up the chain of command felt generous for Sorin's intervention, and gave him the bounty as per the contract. A sign of good faith between the Empire and the Guild.
~ A walk upon the sand... (Complete) ~ {836 ABY} ~
Though now wealthier than he was before, his near death experience weighed more heavily than normal on his mind. Death was not a new concept to him, but an uncertainty remained. He should have died, but a feeling of overwhelming nature drove him to action. It was a whisper in his mind, and became a chorus that moved him. Arriving on Korriban in the city of Dreshdae, he wasn't consciously aware of why he decided to come here. Of all the places he could have gone, why Korriban? Why the homeworld of the Sith? He just got paid by them, and should have high-tailed it to the other end of the galaxy. Start a company, bed women, anything but here. His logic could not make sense of it. As he walked their dusty streets, a woman bumped into him, and the whispering in his head stopped, becoming silent. Puzzled, he gazed upon her. Though taller, the Massassi tattoo on her face was her most distinctive feature, but he did not know what it meant. What stood out to him was not the tattoo, but her eyes: a phosphorous yellow that reminded him of an angry, caged animal. "Watch where you're going, kid." When she spoke, the whispering came back, but not as noise, but as a voice. It spoke to him.
"What are you waiting for, boy? Darkness is waiting..."
Sorin couldn't decide what was stranger: her eyes or the voice in his head. Maybe he was going crazy. "So I shall." It was his only reply before moving on, but was it a reply to her, or the voice? For a brief moment, his left eye glazed over yellow, and disappeared. He did not travel very far, however. Something was coming up, a turn of emotions inside of him, and when he bumped into another person, he reacted against a seven foot strong men. A burst of anger from the core of his being spread throughout his body, and he brought the man to his knees in a howl of pain. No sooner had this occurred than had he left, a film of sweat on him as he slipped into an alley, confused and disoriented by what just happened. Why did he hurt that man? Where did this anger come from? It was like anything he had felt before.
He could not ponder further when suddenly the woman from before pulled him by his neck through a nearby door and held a gun to his head, demanding to know his business in Dreshdae. The voice in his head warned him to not irritate her further; as if that was going to help matters. After briefly explaining his sudden outburst outside, she seemed satisfied, though only after dragging him up a flight of stairs and tossing him across the room. The blaster was still pointed at him. She asked for his name, and he gave it, tossing a datapad with some information on it, including his current occupation. If anything, he could at least do his job. For some reason, she believed he was a Sith, an observation he didn't understand, and after correcting her, their conversation progressed. He learned her name was Ayra, the only Sith Marauder of this modern age, and she believed this meeting was not a coincidence. While Sorin didn't know all that much about the Force or the groups that use it, this was starting to make more sense than it did before, weird and twisted as it may have been. The more they talked of the Sith Marauders, the more his interest peaked, and before long, he asked to join. Before he could, however, he would need to pass a test: make a trek to the Sith Academy with a Tuk'ata in one day. This was a task he was confident enough to do. After acquiring a Tuk'ata the next day, about nine hours and a Shyrack cave later, he survives the ten mile journey to the Academy. Over the next few hours, he rests up and Ayra gets more detailed information from him, experience he already has, information about his life, etc. Soon, his training would begin...
~ Here Comes The Freedom Train (Completion Improvised) ~ {836 ABY} ~
To say that there was an interruption would be an understatement. It was like a ripple that gripped the entire planet in anticipation. An entire Republic army was knocking on their doorstep at the Sith Academy at Korriban...and with Sorin still in it. The next few hours were going to be interesting. Armed with his rifle, he set up preparation, taking a high room of the Academy to take a position above the battle. With a wall slit, and a table later, he was set, and wasted no time with his shots, nor did he waste them. His first initial targets, however, were not hit. Three soldiers he took down, but the three Jedi beside them he did not. Though he didn't know at the time, the three Jedi he had in his sights had been very particular: Tefka Efreet, then Grand Master of the Jedi Order; Joshua DragonsFlame and Leina Snowfire, then Jedi Knights of the Jedi Order. While he lost sight of them, he continued to shoot at troops coming in. One soldier here, another there, and a dropship down every time he could get one in his sights. The only restriction he had was the recharge time on his rifle. With the number of soldiers, he knew he couldn't put a dent into all of them himself, but he wanted to make it more interesting. Soldiers were one thing, but targeting Jedi, now that was new. Three bolts later, and one Jedi was dead. He could get use to this. In the midst of the chaos, he spotted Tefka again, but lost sight shortly afterward due to a dropship. Already an interesting day, but now things were going in directions he had not prepared for.
The battle, and for that matter the war, was lost. Whatever they had hoped to do, their opportunity had closed by the time the army had arrived. They just didn't know it yet. Sith and Jedi alike were dying as the Republic and Empire fought furiously across the battlefield. It was a fight they could not win, and no amount of blaster bolts from his rifle was going to change the tide in this manner, shooting any target that moved without a clear line to any figure of authority. Grunts were target practice. What Sorin needed was a target that was worth killing. None presented themselves, and this frustrated him greatly. 'Time to get out of here.' Retreat to fight another day. Swiftly and surely, he made his way to the nearest vehicle that he could get his hands on, and get the hell out of here. And before he could make his way toward the hanger bay, he blacked out. Out like a light.
~ The Start of a Very Bad Day (Inprogress) ~ {844 ABY} ~
If asked for when he blacked out, he wouldn't know, but for how long he was out, that was a mystery to him, at first. Awoken by the yelling of a woman's voice, he found himself in the middle of the ensuing chaos that engulfed the station he resided in. Hulling ass like there was no tomorrow, he finds more questions than answers. A voice, the same one that woke him, speaks inside his mind, left with specific instructions to wake him should the station be attacked, and to no surprise, they were: by pirates. Without weapons and wearing a bacta suit, he made his way across the station. Along the way, he learns that the voice is similar to what one would call an "AI", but he realizes that she is something else entirely. According to her testimony, she was created through a process she did not understand, nor given a name. Made by the same people who put them there, these people had repaired the station, a Confederation Station over 800 years old, but due to the pirates, the station's shields were failing, and it was falling into the nearby sun. On top of that, he had been in suspended animation for the past eight years...most likely by the same people who put him here. In the midst of trying to figure everything out, the station's doors are opening on their own without any assistance. To say the least, it was very unnerving.
In the midst of the chaos, he encounters a lot of problems, firstly in the form of B1 battle droids. Hauling ass to get away from them, he meets an Amaran named Triter Zone, a woman, and a male in imperial garb. Together, they escape the nearby droids, but lose sight of both the woman and male. With Triter in toe, they find a storage room, but Sorin encounters a group of mercenaries hired to find Sorin. Luckily, they do not see Triter, and with stealth and patience, Sorin and Triter kill most of the group on their ship, a YT-2000. Before killing the captain, Sorin discovers that they were hired by someone on Coruscant, but little else is known.
~ Engine Trouble and No Rum (Inprogress) ~ {844} ABY ~
With the YT-2000 he got from the mercenary group, he makes his way through the system. However, the hyperdrive shuts down on him, and he isn't sure what the problem is. Forced to make do otherwise, he sets sights for Effekt. The world, however, was a combination of both medieval and technological advances, making the search for a person capable of working on his ship slim to none. Thus, he sets his sights on the Empress of Effekt, Nimue Stormson. Not wanting to force a confrontation, he tries to sell his skills to the Empress, but is instead attacked. The encounter, however, reacts oddly with Sorin, causing the voice from eight years prior to reappear, and take over his body. The result is eight soldiers being killed, and Sorin's body being about a kilometer away from the palace. Impressed by the display, the Empress offers a compromise: find a scepter in the caves of the Dwergi, and his ship will be repaired. As Sorin retrieves the scepter in question from the caves, the voice momentarily controls him again as he leaves, causing a group of nearby Dwergi to cower in fear. At this point, Sorin is unsure of the limits and effects of this voice, but returns the scepter none the less.
~ Remember the Fallen (Inprogress) ~ {844 ABY} ~
To be edited...
~ Honor Long Overdue (Inprogress) ~ {844 ABY} ~
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~ Sins of Eternity (Inprogress) ~ {844 ABY} ~
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