Private The Final First Step

[Ryv]

Star Date: XXXX
Location: The Renegade, Somewhere Near Mobus

I believed it was my job to bring peace to this galaxy for many years. As time went on, I welcomed more responsibilities into my life because I thought no one else could manage them. Jedi Knight. Sword of the Jedi. General. These are titles I bore with a sense of pride. My father led me to believe it was my destiny to become a Jedi. Wyatt reinforced that belief when he entrusted the title of Sword to me. Other Jedi found themselves beneath my banner not long after that. I represented something to this galaxy that so few Jedi could anymore.

Hope.

My guidance birthed the Galactic Alliance. My blade shattered Harnaidan's outer wall's defense and began the assault on the Sith Empire. Both the Alliance and the New Empire knew my name. Ryv Karis, Sword of the Jedi, Paragon of Hope. I promised them all peace, knowing full well the struggle for that peace would consume my life. The sacrifices I made... cost me everything. My sense of self faded away with every battle. Death walked beside me, my only companion, as others began to disappear. I knew no equal among the Order. It was my burden. All of the Jedi were my burden.

Now, I take my final first step. I go to Mobus, led by my visions, to find what will hopefully guide me to the Sith'ari. These coming months will be difficult. My death awaits me at the end of this journey, but I've accepted that. I walk this road, not for peace any longer. Solipsis is my goal. He has taken so much from so many, and it is time his rule is put to an end.

Kyric.

I'm sorry I've left you to follow this path. If I am to call myself your father, I can no longer avoid my fate.

End recording.

​

Swirling red clouds drifted aimlessly through the skies over Mobus. It blocked Ryv's vision, making it near impossible for him to properly direct the Renegade towards the landing pad. The ship did the work for him. He pulled back on the sticks and eased onto the solid surface below. Flying was never really one of his strong suits. If not for the Force, the kiffar likely would've died a dozen years ago. That sentiment could be applied likely anywhere else in his life. The Force protected him. It guided him in battle, shifted his form, protected his body, and strengthened his mind. With the Force at his side, Ryv knew he could push through so long as he did not give in to the difficulties around him.

Mobus was no different.

The Sith'ari could not hide forever. His agents had erred somewhere along the way, and Ryv knew it. They were out there somewhere.

A ratty humanoid met him at the bottom of the Renagade's ramp.

"I'll need your ship's codes, along with your reason for being here, stranger," he said.

Ryv waved a hand. "I am cleared for landing. You don't need my purpose for being here. We've known one another for years."

"I..." the port worker blinked spots from his eyes. "You are- cleared for landing. Welcome, friend."

The Sword ignored the man from there. Ryv strode past him, across the gap, into the port proper. From what he knew, this was one of many stations on the planet used to mine and refine gas from Mobus' atmosphere. That made it valuable. No marauding barbarians, only agents of the Sith. That meant he had to be careful. He left his fabled jacket at home, alongside the bodysuit that had seen him through hundreds of battles. He favored a plain poncho over a worker's vestaments. His lightsaber was tucked away under the throw-over, hidden from sight.

"If I were a Sith Lord, where would I be?" he muttered to himself while fading away into the crowds of workers.

Spindle | Lord Letifer​

 

[Spindle]

TAG: Ryv | Lord Letifer

The crackle of energy echoed in the transformed study. A red light cast all sorts of shadows on the eclectic collection of tools and projects. Mannequins in various states of construction lined a wall, some a bit more ethically sourced than others, many of which sporting various layers of fabric. Design had been Spindle's passion once. And as her studies progressed, the once-harmless hobby had taken a turn from purely aesthetic choices to utility.

Her latest project saw Spindle working with the gas of Mobus' atmosphere. The last few days had been spent locked away, trying to condense the glass to a liquid or incase a small sample of the gas in a quick-release capsule. If she mastered that, it'd be only a matter of time before she could work towards refining the substance for more pronounced effects on the living.

Containment, it seemed, was a tricky step, the apprentice letting loose an annoyed huff through a ventilation mask as the latest test tube cracked open. That was the eighth one in the past hour. She dipped a nail in ink, etching quick notes while they were fresh, pale brow furrowing to a scowl as her fingernail sliced through the vellum. Great. Just what she wanted. Finishing off the note, she pushed the leather book aside, moving to retrieve another sample from her stock to begin anew.

Empty.

The creases in her forehead deepened with further annoyance. Somewhere among the clutter, the cracking of another item breaking under the stress of the apprentice's wrath could be heard. She could hardly continue her experiments without the substance in question. And so, still seething, the apprentice stashed her notes in a bag and threw on a hooded cloak, slipping out of her makeshift study with the intent to reach the mines. One way or another, she'd get more samples of that gas.