The Eye of the Storm

[Darth Prazutis]

Braxus Enoreth​

Sith Acolyte of Darth Vornskr​

Inside the INV-Ruination, Black-Iron War Fleet​

​

Utter disbelief. Shock. Anger. Rage. There was a storm of emotions raging within Braxus Enoreth when he heard the news for himself: Darth Vornskr, the God-King of the Epicanthix has fallen. Part of him couldn't believe that the godlike being that was his master could actually fall, for Vornskr had transcended life and achieved the secret of becoming truly immortal. Whether Vornskr could come back or not remained to be seen, but Braxus wasn't about to wait to find out. Braxus was an acolyte training at the feet of a god, but he was strong in the force...Vornskr had told him so in many of their training sessions, but a god doesn't suffer any fools and Braxus would take any punishment his master could dish out, for every pain was a lesson that could be learned, every strike a reinforcement to do it right the second time.

Braxus was already with the Black-Iron Fleet for some time and on one of the other ships in the fleet for some time when he had heard the God-King fell. But Braxus had other plans, if Darth Vornskr was dead truthfully that would mean he could no longer teach him. Vornskr had achieved such a level of success and strength, he left behind a legacy of blood, death, and sheer power. Braxus would rise to prove his master that he was worthy to be called his Apprentice, and he would learn at the feet of the Gods memory, his holocron. The Holocron of Darth Vornskr was a repository of knowledge that contained everything the Sith Lord knew in life, and he would claim it and in doing so become the heir of his masters legacy.

Braxus had planned this carefully as the Ancient Hunter always was, his powers as an anzati were formidable and honed over many years, it didn't take long for him to rend the minds of a few individuals in order to gain the right access to where he needed to go. It was nearly impossible to find any concrete information on the holocrons location however, rarely did anyone enter Darth Vornskr's chambers, and if they did typically those trespassers were killed...but Braxus was determined "Master....my god, guide me. Grant me your favor so that I may yet prove myself to you.." Braxus said to himself as he started through the massive hangar filled with shuttles, fighters. The Primeval-Class Star Destroyers were massive ships, and the Flagship of Darth Vornskr's fleet was a tactical variant of the Primeval that were much larger, and stronger than the standard designs.

But there was something different about the Ruination, an aura of malevolence and dark side energies swirled around the ship that only served to strengthen Braxus even on his approach. Braxus often speculated that it was due to Darth Vornskr's power as a god, his very presence made an impact on the ship even after his passing. Through his studies he discovered there were many Dark Lords of the Sith who have had that same impact on a location. Braxus walked through the massive hangar with the subtle grace and speed only an anzati could afford. He wore a set of black armor with a matching hooded cloak. The crew of the Ruination were no strangers to Sith coming aboard, and an Acolyte of Darth Vornskr was given space, out of fear of Vornskr's infamous cruelty manifest itself in one of his pupils.

Through subtle machinations Braxus managed to narrow down the location of the Holocron of Darth Vornskr to the Ruination. Information did not come easy and what he could not bribe, he took with force from unsuspecting victims with his indomitable will, and deadly abilities gifted to Braxus at birth as an Anzati and honed over the many years of his life. The anzati were natural predators who hunted sentient's of every shape, size, and species, everything about their physiology was geared for the task. Braxus made use of his innate ability at telepathic control, combined with the power of the force to threaten and tear what he needed out of those who had the information he needed. One thing Braxus was sure of was that the Holocron was somewhere in Darth Vornskr's personal chambers on this ship. The next thing Braxus had to do was to find it, he had already been given clearance to enter that part of the ship, but even if he didn't he still could sneak his way in.

Braxus entered in a long, large corridor that exited the hangar, and made his way deeper into the large ship with deadly intent and heading for the one place he needed to go, the place he had to go.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

There was a feeling of anticipation and anxiety permeating through the crew of the Ruination, the feeling of a coming storm on the dark horizon that no one could possibly predict when it would blow through with it's wrath. They had felt this sensation before several years ago, around the last time the commander of this state-of-the-art vessel had perished and later returned from the ethereal materium to haunt corporeal space as a bitter specter that brooded silently in the bowels of the ship. Crew members aimlessly wandered the darkened halls of the ship with long faces set in a anguished grimaced as shadowy whispers floated through the air to violate their ears with promises of power, salvation, and destruction. It was not uncommon for one of the weaker willed crew members to take his own life right out of the blue, which left only those strong of mind and spirit behind to man the dark vessel through the black miasma of space.

The only ones seemingly not affected by the dark atmosphere that now haunted the ship were the Blackblade Guards, but they could hardly be considered men anymore so twisted were their minds. They were animals, butchers, monsters. Devoid of compassion or any resemblance of morality, and driven solely by the wicked will of their Master and their own monstrous appetites to annihilate all that stood before them. Besides them were the gargantuan Imperial Sentinels, the mute protectors of Darth Vornskr's private sanctuary aboard the Ruination. They wore heavy battle armor under long, reddish-purple cloaks emblazoned with intricate gold patterns at the chest, back, and shoulders. Their heads were wrapped in heavy linen and covered by a large helmet resembling a golden Aquila with spread wings, and only their crimson eyes were visible behind the narrow slits punched through the armored face-plate. In their large hands they gripped massive vibro-axes decorated with bleached skulls and blasphemous trinkets depicting ancient Sith symbols.

A pair of them stood constant watch outside the locked door leading to Vornskr's personal chamber, their bodies so rigid and still they could be confused for ornamental statues save for when an individual neared and they crossed both of their axes cautiously until the offending individual was out of their gaze. However; this was merely a preprogrammed action. The Imperial Sentinels did not possess the higher brain functions to work independently, and relied on the direction of blind and mute Dark Side Acolytes called Seers, members of the Vornskr'ei Sith cult that worshiped Darth Vornskr as a God and purposefully maimed themselves to serve his undying will. It was they that possessed a strong link with the monolithic constructs, and it was they who could direct them in combat with surprising efficiency and lethality.

And so they watched, and they waited.

Silent as the grave and still as stone.

[member="Braxus Enoreth"]

 

[Darth Prazutis]

The Whispering Shadow glided down the halls of the Ruination, a blur that passed by crew and soldier alike, moved down corridor after corridor, never hesitating of stopping. Braxus took careful note of the state of the crew, some of them had clearly been swallowed up by the byproduct of the ships dark side nexus. Others who couldn't handle it killed themselves, Braxus passed by several rooms where he saw crewman swinging from the hangman's noose. Darth Vornskr's power was great, and his death left a massive impact on the crew here. There was one word that could describe what he felt as he ducked down corridor, and elevator: Fear. Word was that Darth Vornskr still haunted the ship, culling the weak and worthless by driving them to insanity.

The storm of emotions and dark side energy swelled the Sith Acolyte with power, it felt as if the dark side was alive here, and it was ready to be called upon at a moments notice: Good, Braxus would need it if he was going to get into the personal chambers of his deceased master. Darth Vornskr's Personal Chambers were on their own level in the Primeval-Class Star Destroyer, a wing that was restricted to most of the crew and staffed entirely by the elite Blackblade Guard. Braxus favored the elite Blackblade Guard as bodyguards and elite soldiers in combat, they were absolutely ruthless against the enemies of the Kainate Authority. Many times did Braxus command a squad or two during battles at his masters command, they were truly a sight to behold. The Blackblade Guard would leave him alone here, when they scanned his face it would reveal Braxus had the proper security clearance to be on the wing.

The chambers of Darth Vornskr were an entirely different story as Braxus had come to find out. The elite Imperial Sentinels stood watch over the doors, massive humanoid warrior-constructs altered by Sith Alchemy so greatly that they no longer had the higher brain functions to act independently. They had to be guided by the blind and deaf seers of the Vornskr'ei Cult, who acted as a sort of remote control to the Sentinels. The seers were able to guide the Sentinel in combat with deadly precision. Braxus already knew that two Sentinels were too much for him to handle, this wasn't his first encounter with the lumbering beasts. Past encounters with the Vornskr'ei Cult revealed the Sentinels did not worry about their own bodily safety and were nearly impossible to bring down in combat. Two Imperial Sentinels could destroy multiple squads of even the Blackblade Guard, and they were more than enough to sheer Braxus in half with those vibro-axes.

But Braxus was no fool many years of experience and hard training under Darth Vornskr gave him the skills he needed to pass this obstacle: "If you cannot outright destroy your enemy, take away their will to fight and victory is assured." He could hear his master telling him. It would be foolish to take on the Sentinels, Braxus would find and destroy the Seers controlling them. Without the Seers the Sentinels were worthless husks, their addled brains were unable to use the cognitive processes to allow the individual to act independently, and he could just walk through the doors unhindered. Braxus stoked the fires of the darkside as he always done before, it started first with a spark, than it exploded into a raging fire of hatred. He rushed the force through his already powerful Anzati senses, the Seers life force would burn like a flame, and Braxus would use the force to augment the same senses he used to find prey to feed upon. He'd than head towards that source with subtlety.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

It was where the Dark Side was most congealed that the seers congregated, huddled in darkened rooms while braziers of incense burned and emitted a foul smell reminiscent of putrefaction while their sinewy hands moved with a surprising delicateness to handle profane idols carved from ivory and rock. Despite a lack of mouths there were whispers wafting through the death-choked air, dark and intoxicating they sought to beguile and entice but their tantalizing promises would find no ground to moor within the circle of sorcerers. These beings dressed in robes of viridian that hung loosely off of their skeletal frames were immune to the calls of the ether, their minds guarded and their wills surprisingly resilient against such primordial madness, yet such strengths came at the cost of their physical shells which rotted away beneath their cloaks. Still that was the price they were willing to pay in service to their lord, their God, for it was he who showed them the truth of the universe and how to harness the darkness hiding behind the stars of reality.

And toiled they did on blessing the artifacts they passed among one another, cracked nails tracing lines with blood on the weathered material to form complex patterns originating in days before technology and rationality. Their runes hearkened back to a time when spirituality and superstition ruled supreme over all and where a race of red-skinned humanoids dabbled in arcane rituals of which only a small handful survived to this modern era, and while such mysteries were doomed to never again be unlocked those intricacies that remained were powerful enough in their own right. However; there was a feeling of apprehension on the stale wind, yet the seers in their wisdom of the dark could not pinpoint the cause of their uncertainty.

There was a terrible darkness coming, but whether or not it was the foul miscreant that sought the knowledge of the man who lingered behind the shroud of the dead or the entity himself no one could say. But there was a guiding hand to [member="Braxus Enoreth"]'s mission, a shadow that trailed his every movement and watched eagerly from darkened corners waiting to see what came of his boldness.

Only time would tell what became of this anxiety.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Braxus moved ever faster down the abandoned corridors, ducking into a side passage. The Seers may not physically be visible but they couldn’t hide their life essence from him. The life essence of the blind and mute sorcerers of the Vornskr’ei radiated like a blazing light in a sea of darkness. He could even hear it like a steady heart beat that only pounded louder the closer he approached. Braxus didn’t realize until now how hungry he truly was, his body screamed out at him for food, for essence. It would only be a little while longer before he feasted on their life soup.

Whether it was the nexus of the ship, or even his dark master compelling him from beyond the grave Braxus felt strong. First it sounded like faint whispers echoing down the halls “Kill them all….rip the life from their worthless husks”. The whispers stoked the fiery rage building up inside with the help of the rumbling hunger. The Seers were barring him from his true goal to appease his master, to seize what was rightfully his and earn his masters favor from beyond the grave.

Braxus stopped by a single door, its keypad locked and there was an ever present faint, flickering light coming from beneath the doorway, and the smelling incense of putrefaction that seeped from the room. “My prey..I have come.” He thought to himself as Braxus grabbed the curved-hilt lightsaber off of his belt. He thrusted his right hand forward and seized the door with the force, and with one fluid motion he ripped the locks asunder and slammed the door open. The anzati hunter moved with the speed and reflexes thrice that of any human, his crimson blade burning to life in the dark room.

The tall Anzati Hunter stood tall as he swung his blade at the first Seer to cut the skeletal viridian-clad man’s head right off, cauterizing the wound as the lightsaber passed over. He brought it down again to cut the man’s torso clean off at the waist, blasting his parts across the floor. But as the others turned to react the Harbinger kept moving. Braxus grabbed the next seer by the throat and lifted him clear off the ground, he then tossed his lightsaber across the room with his free hand to cut the leg off of another seer, calling his lightsaber back into his hand. Braxus glared at the squirming man in his hands with blackened hatred, unfurling from hidden pockets in his cheeks were two long probisces, they surged forward tearing holes through the man’s nostrils in a violent motion, crashing into his brain as the Anzati gorged himself on his life essence. The old feeble body squirmed at first, but the probisces destroyed the brain in the process and victims never survived the encounter. The dark side was strong in him, and he could already feel his strength growing due to the feeding.

Braxus tossed the lifeless corpse aside and with one swift motion, slammed the door of the chamber shut. They would not run from the harbinger. Braxus completely gave himself over to the rage and hunger that built inside of him. He brutally slaughtered all life inside the chamber, feeding and deciminating on every single other seer before scattering their remains about the room in a brutal display of gore. When it was all over he found himself on his knees in front of the small alter they had set up for themselves. “My master..I am ready.” He said as he stood up, exiting the chamber. Braxus attached his lightsaber back on his hip as he headed back to the Sentinels, attempting to pass now.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Sentinels made no attempt to bar Braxus from entering, and in fact they even moved to the side to allow him easier access as if someone was still directing their movements despite the deaths of the seers in the other chamber. The doors to Kaine Zambrano's private sanctum opened up with a sharp hiss of hydraulics, and fog began to billow out across the floor. Inside Braxus would find a well furnished living space filled with antique sculptures of both ancient Epicanthix and ancient Sith origin alongside original paintings crafted by the Sith Lord himself in his infrequent spare time. Most of these paintings would depict acts of barbarity and cruelty, although there were a few depicting voluptuous women clothed and unclothed both. However; at the far end of the chamber was a desk littered with papers and unfinished sketches, and upon it sat a portrait of a crimson-skinned Twi'lek adorned with tribal markings on her lekku and face. Most of the sketches situated around it featured the same woman, although all of them had been brutally painted over or outright torn to shreds by the barely contained rage of a madman.

A small hallway led to a bed chamber featuring more or less the same aesthetic as the previous one, although this chamber was significantly more disheveled with clothes tossed about randomly and some of the sculptures knocked off of their pedestals and some of them were even broken. The bed itself was in disarray as well with all of the covers torn to ribbons and the pillows gutted, but sitting picturesquely at its center was a black and scarlet holocron that pulsed with a sentience unbecoming of an inanimate object. And the closer [member="Braxus Enoreth"] approached the more it hummed with anticipation and latent energy, while the shadows of the room grew more pronounced and the air became uncharacteristically stale despite the air vents and ducts that were still operating normally. And then from the darkness a voice beckoned, one so familiar and yet utterly alien to the Anzat's senses as if the person speaking was both inside of his head and so very far away.

"S̶̶o͘ t̀h̶̶͝e̸͢ ͢p҉̶r̶̡̕o҉d͜i̴̢g̀͠a̸l̶̶ ҉͏̕ap͞p̴͝r҉e͞nt̛̀i̛c̶͘e ̶̀̕ć̶͠o͘͞͠m̧̛͘eś̶͜ ̵̕fo͞r҉̧ ̶͡͝h̕̕͞i̧̛s ̕ma͏s̴t̶͢e̢͟͡r'҉s͘͠ ͜͝t͠ŕ̷ìń̵̸k̸͏̶et̸̀s͘͟, ͜b̀u͜͡t̕ ̷̨̛ḑ̷͜ǫ̵̷e̵͜s̷̴ ͢͏͠h͏̵̕e҉ ̷҉po͡sse͘s̀s̨̛ ̛t̢̕h͢͞e s̢͜t̢͏̀r̸̶e̛͢n̶͜͡gth̶͜ ̴̨̨of ͢w̨̛͞i̡̢҉ll̡ ̵t̨͢ò ̧b̕͝͠r̨͠i̸͏n͏̀g ̶̶͝s̢͢ú̢c̶͜͢h̛ ̷̢͜k҉́n͢͏̸o̷͜ẁ̧̨l̢ed͜͞g̨͜ȩ ́́͟t̡͜͜ǫ ̸͝h̵ȩé̶͏l̵̀͘?​

​

̕͏B̷ȩ͘͢w͠a̧̢͠re,͜͞ ͞a͝c̵̡̨ò̴l̵̸̢y̸t̷e͠. ̷̕​

̕​

͠T͞h̴e ̵p͘͠o͘w̷̸̡ę͠r̛ h̸͡i̴̡d̸d́͏̸e̵͏͠n ̴͝͠w͘͞҉it̛h͟in̛ t̴hì͜s͟͡ hơ͢lo͝c͢r͢͏ó̀͞n̕ ͏w̷̢i̴̴͟l̸̡͠l ́͝s̢̧̢c͟҉̸ar̸̀ ̵̢͢y̛̛͘ou̴̷̕r̢͝ s҉̴p͝i͝r̸̨ít̶̢̕ f̕o͟r͘e͘͢͞v́̕e͏҉r̕.̶.̴̀."​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Braxus looked around in the chamber at the various paintings and mosaic pieces on the walls. While Braxus knew virtually everything about Darth Vornskr, he didn't know he was this much of an art aficionado. Braxus had walked over to the desk, something catching his attention. He picked up a pair of gauntlets sitting on the floor alongside the desk and inspected them, cortosis to be certain. They had a layer of dust on them and Braxus assumed that they hadn't been used in a while. He slid the gauntlets onto his hands, valuable items to find. Braxus's eyes falling to the picture of the red skinned twi'lek. Instantly Braxus recognized the woman as Anaya Fen, an ex of Darth Vornskr and one of the few to not only betray him, but try to murder him.

Vornskr was never one to reveal his emotions, but Anaya's name often invoked rage, Braxus never had any reason to mention it. A sudden pulsing of dark side power rumbling deep in the chamber attracted his attention, Braxus immediately walked up the hallway towards the bedroom. The holocron was near he could feel it, it was the only thing that could radiate with such great power. Braxus stopped in the hall to the bedroom when he saw it, a smooth black pyramid with red sides glowing with symbols and radiating the dark side.

The Ancient Hunter approached the bed carefully as if each step was carefully placed and thought out beforehand. It was just then that the voice rung out in the room and he froze. It was so familiar yet so alien but he was sure there were no one else it could be but him. Braxus bowed his head in respect at the voice, even in spirit he knew his masters voice. "I am Braxus, Apprentice of the greatest Sith Lord to ever live, my abilities honed by a god. The knowledge locked away in the holocron is mine by right of blood, and I will claim it in the name of my master, and its secrets will be my own." Braxus said, walking up to the bed that held the holocron.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"B̴̕út ̀c҉́a̡̧n͞ ̵̴y͜͝o͘͟͟ú͏ ̨͝h̛a̡ŗ̷͞né̶s͏̧̨s̨̧ ̵su҉̧͞c̷̕h ̴̡p̢̛o̸͜w͢͡͠ȩ̶̵r͟,̶ ́͟a҉҉co͜ly̧t̛͞e͏̴?̴̨ ̵͞"

Warned the disembodied voice from the darkness, prompting the holocron to pulse hungrily in response as the air became increasingly fetid. The shadows swirled atop the bed to coalesce into something vaguely resembling the shape of a man, but the projection was unstable causing perpetual deterioration at the edges of the being's form. It assumed no facial features, although the remnants of a hundred different identities could be seen churning beneath the dark miasma. Only a pair of eyes bright as a star yet dark as a moon materialized in the specter's face, and they looked upon [member="Braxus Zambrano"] with a mixture of hate, envy, curiosity, amusement, and sorrow.

The creature extended a hand towards the Anzat and spoke yet again in its horrible voice: "A̡̡c̨c̨͞e̢p̧͏ţ͟͡ ͟m̵͟y҉́ ̴҉g̶̨i̧̕͠f̶̴̢t̷̕,͡ ̸́͘Br̨͡a͜͢xu̵ş,̵̧ ҉͢a̵̷͟n̵͡͠d̢ ̛͜͢I̢ ̵s̴h̕͡͝al͘l̀͢ ̕b̴̢e̡qu͡e҉̛a̕th y͠o͠u ̷͏̨n͜͝ew҉͡f͝ou҉͘n͡d ̷͞͡p̡̀̕o͞w̡͜èr̀.̨ ̧̛͡W͏̵͝i̕t̴h̴͡ ̛i̴t͡ y̴͢o̡͜͡u̕ ẃil͜l͜͞ ̶su͘ŕ̡͘v̧̨̛í̸̢v́͞e̸̛ ̀͘m̛y͏̸̢ ̴̨t̴̕͘eac͝҉h̨͝i͡n҉gs,̡͡͞ ̡̕y̕è̛̛t̕͞͞ f̵ųŗt̷̛ḩ͟er͘͜ ̴͢inţ̴͘o̸ ̴҉m̸̡͟y ҉g̶ŕ̨́ás̶̵p̀͠͝ ̧͟sh̶͢a̵͞͏l̨͜l̴̨ ͞y̸͝ò̀҉u̕ ̢b͡è͡ ̨̛͘d̕͜͠eliv̵̢͝ȩ͢r̷̨ed!͢͝͠"

And time itself seemed to hold its breath.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Each time the holocron pulsed with dark side power Braxus felt as if it was the heart beating in his chest, it consumed his very being and shook his body. He gave himself into the dark side before but this was different, he was standing in the middle of a nexus of the dark side with a very perversion of the force, Darth Vornskr appearing before him in utter defiance to death. The dark side seemed to revel in his presence, the very shadows in the room growing thicker as he materialized on the bed.

"The power is mine by right! ...I am Braxus Zambrano! I am the only one who is worthy of your power, worthy of your legacy!" He said as he knelt down in utter fealty to his dark master, and the deific God-King of the Epicanthix. [member="Darth Vornskr"] was giving him the key to everything he wanted: Knowledge. He was giving Braxus the key to his legacy, and he would gladly take it. All of his life he had been nothing but a predator destroying the weak, a killer whose body-count could an uncountable amount of graveyards. But he was being given purpose, he would inherit the legacy of a god. "I accept master, I accept! Let me be your word and your will! I am ready." Braxus took the spirits hand.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

His voice, once murky, distorted, and alien, was now unbearably clear in [member="Braxus Zambrano"]' mind.

"Good. Now you are mine."​

​

As Braxus grasped the specter's hand a terrible pain would shoot up the Anzat's arm like a lightning bolt, reverberating through his bones as the pain raced down through the center of his body. It was like someone had taken a match to his soul and was wholly content to let it burn away to nothing, but this agony transcended physical sensation to the point of spiritual suffering. Darkness seeped from the dead Sith's Stygian grip to travel up his arm, and as the shadows brushed against his skin it left behind blackened marks not unlike those of a tattoo yet it was more than ink that was being weaved through his epidermis. It wouldn't be long before the shadows covered Braxus from the neck down, his body warping and changing beneath the swirling miasma of hate. Add as quickly as the darkness appeared it departed just as swiftly, leaving behind tattered clothing and the mark of the Vornskr'ei permanently emblazoned across Braxus' chest.

The spectral form of Vornskr had also disappeared along with the darkness, yet the holocron remained and even purred with unnatural satisfaction before segments rotated and clicked into place as if something was being unlocked. And the voice returned to congratulate the marked Anzat:

"Congratulations, Braxus. You are now one of my chosen, and I bequeath you the title of Herald. ​

You shall serve under Xithyl the Ascended, and spread my influence throughout the galaxy. ​

Now go! Take the trinket you seek, and drink from the wells of my knowledge."​

​

With that the voice fell silent and the darkness of the room receded leaving only the dull hum of the ventilation system roaring in Braxus' ears.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Braxus's whole body tensed out of instinct from the shooting pain, but his reaction was betrayed by the maddening grin on the Anzati's face. The knowledge of Darth Vornskr, the Black-Iron Tyrant was his to unlock. He stopped himself from grimacing as his body was warped and changed due to Darth Vornskr's dark power, and his mark emblazoned to his chest.

"Yes Master, I will be the Herald who will lay out the foundation for your return to this galaxy in physical form, may they tremble before your might." Braxus knelt before the Sith Lord as he disappeared, he took the holocron and walked out into the main living space of Vornskr's room. It was here that Braxus sat the holocron down onto the floor, and sat down in front of it. He reached out through the force and bathed the holocron in dark side magic, saturating it to activate it. If rumors were true the Gatekeeper would appear and analyze the being activating it for Zambrano Blood, and either grant him access or deny him and deactivate immediately.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]