This Will Go Well! (No It Won't)

[Muad Dib]

Sitting in the library in Golbah City, Muad Dib poured over a leaning stack of books. Hours had turned to days as he searched through ancient scrolls, tomes, datacrons, and other catalogs that the Confederacy had to offer. The well of knowledge the library offered was deep indeed.

Tonight found him reclining back in a chair, his boots propped upon the table top. A decanter rested next to a scroll, a guardian of crystal that reflected the fire burning in the fireplace along the back wall. Slowly the man leafed through the pages the ancient text as his left absently swirled the amber liquor in it's tumbler. The man made for war did enjoy a good read every once in awhile and finally had a moment to steal away from the responsibilities thrust upon his shoulders.

His leisurely reading didn't have a point of interest, merely a benign curiosity spurred by idle hands and mind. Raising the glass to his lips he drained rest of the liquor before closing the book and setting it once more upon the table. Rising he stretched, feeling his back pop from the extended stay in the chair. Shaking his head from amusement he poured another refill from the decanter before collecting the glass to retire for the evening. But as he turned his glowing eyes fell upon a cracked leather back book that looked innocuous.

A wry smile crossed his face as he shrugged and plucked it from the stack and sat once more. Cracking the book his eyes began to go brighter as he began reading. It was a collection of entries of some tombs on Korriban. The more he read the more something stirred within him. Pulling a pad of paper toward him he jotted down several things of interest.

Closing the book he stood and took the pad with him as he scanned shelves once more. Finding several sources he collected them returned to the table, a new interest burning in his chest.

Two days later found him replacing the books he had been studiously reading. It had been several years since he had been on the planet Korriban. A bit of a homecoming. He had spent several years on Korriban and Drommund Kaas, yet despite this they weren't truly home. Of course neither was Manda'yaim, or if it had been it wasn't anymore.

Slowly walking through the corridor leaving the library he decided that yes, indeed, he was going to return to Korriban. Passing across one of the walk ways extending between the spires of the citadel he paused and leaned against the handrail looking over the city. Korriban had many answers to questions most didn't even know to ask. Thrumming with the Darkside, the coffers of knowledge and power always offered to the strong. But it required a price to be paid. Pulling a comlink from a pocket he typed out a message to a friend.

Pausing as the word friend filtered through his mind, Muad considered the definition. He didn't have friends. Allies, yes. Family, yes. But his only true friend had betrayed him several times over. But many years had passed since he had heard of or from Dresdin. But Sol, Sol was different. They had an understanding that transcended words. A mutual liking that couldn't really be defined nor explained. Thinking about the grizzled mercenary Muad finally grinned.

Sol was his friend.

Chuckling he sent the message to the wandering master. "Sol, I owe you a kick to the dick. But I had an idea of some fun, a little danger, maybe some treasure. Get your arse here so I can kick, I mean, so we can have some fun." Laughing now he sent the message to [member="Sol Damerin"] and sent a few other messages to some of the Mandragora with a 'nicer' tone. Shaking his head he slipped the communicator back into his pocket and went in search of a bed so he could get some rest before heading to his ship where hopefully he might have a few like minded individuals join up.

[member="Cairyn Midore"] [member="Rapax"] [member="Lady Psyona"]

 

[Sol Damerin]

Sol was somewhere in wild space on a transport taking him to... He wasn't sure he hadn't asked when he'd bartered for passage. He was a wanderer he didn't really care where he was going. He just waited until The Force gave him some inkling of where or what he should be doing. So more often than not he was in the position he was in now. Sitting in the cargo hold of a ship nestled on a blanket with his bag as a pillow. A datapad in hand loaded with a few hundred books he could read, vids he could watch, and even some music. When he wasn't meditating he liked to keep himself entertained.

There is a chime from his commlink, someone had sent him a message on his direct line rather than through an intermediary. Weren't many people who had his direct line, some people had it because he liked them, some because he thought they'd give him a job for a good cause, and one person who had it because... Reading the message he frowns slightly. It was from Muad, that karking nerf herder thought he owed Sol a kick in the dick. As far as Sol was concerned he still owed Muad at least five more dick kicks for all the bantha poodoo he'd pulled. Sol was still grumpy over the Helix incident and he blamed Muad for the killer kids incident. Also, he still had to marry that bear.

Sol's message is brief and to the point. "Why did I give you my number?" Which was Sol speak for, yeah I'll be there you wanker. Sol's intense dislike for Muad was only exceeded by his odd affection for the mad bastard. If he was honest with himself Sol actually enjoyed fighting, as a master of Vaapaad he pretty much had to, however, he usually hid that side of himself to make people think of him as just a grumpy merc. Muad had a terrible habit of drawing out Sol's more... reckless side. Sol wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but hell if it wasn't fun.

It'd take him a bit but once he got to where he was going, he'd grab another shuttle to Genosha to hook up with Muad. It took a few weeks but hey, that's what happens when you contact a nomad. That weren't always going to be in a convenient spot for you. Once on Genosha he sends the man another message. "Alright, where the kark am I going?" He had no idea where Muad lived on this barren chunk of rock.

[member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Chikako Liona]

Some say the pen is mightier than the sword, but what is righter then the pen, in her mind it was the book that was written with it, knowledge was by far the most powerful thing one could attain, an invisible weapon for anyone to grasp and cause harm, something that no one could detect until it was too late, power that one could use to affect people on the other side of the galaxy. Unfortunately, Chikakos search had been a little slow, only having joined the Confederacy but a few weeks ago, she had been thrust into diplomatic contracting, being sent around the galaxy talking with people from the Silver Jedi to the Galactic Alliance, her non-Sith past and nobility making her more suitable, even if she had little experience.

The young Echani yawned as she placed a tome back in its rightful place on the shelf, having fallen asleep while reading it, and upon waking realizing she should probably get out and do something, staying cooped up in a dark dusty library was not good for one’s health. Standing up Chikako slowly wandered out of the massive reserve of knowledge, rubbing her eyes and stretching, oblivious to the man standing in front of her, one did not usually have to watch out for people idly standing in corridors, especially at a library of all places.

As the man just finished his phone call Chikako bump into his back, losing her balance and falling over on her backside, earning a slight yelp upon hitting the floor, "Ow ow ow ow, hey why are you standing in the middle of a hall way chatting away, people walk down here"!? She gave the stranger a pout, slightly annoyed by his carelessness, failing to recognize her own.

[member="Sol Damerin"] l [member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Grace Darkson]

Well, it seemed Muad Dib knew the Sith Witch all too well if he was asking her to come along. A trip to Korriban, exploring ancient tombs and delving into secrets many would say were best left untouched. But why was he asking? What did he want from this? How much did it matter? But there was nothing to say that it wouldn't pay to be cautious. Her response was somewhere between short and curt.

Where are we meeting? I'll be there.​

Ryloth had been getting dull anyways. She could read as much as she wanted, and study all she could, but only so much could be learned behind closed doors. Sometimes you had to step into the world and do things yourself. Even if it meant risking your health.

Golbah City was as she remembered. Dusty, hot, and entirely uncomfortable. But it was still something akin to a home. As close as she could get, at any rate. Someday she would have a place to call home. She hoped. Still, they had work to do. Adjusting the strap on her rifle, the Witch walked through the street, golden eyes scanning for the people she was supposed to meet.

[member="Muad Dib"] [member="Sol Damerin"] [member="Chikako Liona"]

 

[Luther Lewis]

She burned under midday sun. The wastes of Korriban were harsh and unforgiving, twisted and dead. Perfect for an abomination like her. Morrigan scrabbled in the dirt, her hands raw and bloody. She had been digging for hours and her efforts were yielding very little. She gave a final push of exertion and collapsed to the ground.

There was a tomb buried here, or so the archeologists believed. She'd plucked that thought from one of them, a younger member of the group. It was a secret that he had held deep in his mind, but it rose to the surface as soon as she pulled. Maybe the man wanted desperately to share.

She had been on Korriban for a while now, wandering the ruins found on its surface. She stayed away from the settlement, but she was sure that a least a few scouts had seen her moving around. She glanced down at the tiny hole she'd dug and let out a deep sigh. Not for the first time, she debated joining the archeological team, so she could gain access to the enigma beneath her feet.. Yet, once again, she immediately shot the idea down. They would be unlikely to just let her join along for the ride, she was a child in their eyes and she doubt they would risk losing another share of the treasure. The biggest reason she couldn't join them, however, was the fact that she was hungry.

No, the archeologists were a dead end. She sighed, more loudly this time, and trudged back to her meagre camp. She passed by half a dozen different mausoleums and tombs, steering clear as their presence invaded her mind. She'd been pleased to see them at first, hoping they would have what she needed, what she came for. Instead, all she found was sinister whispering and an urge to run very far away.

Her makeshift shelter was a lean-to created from scrap and rubbish she had found. It was nestled in a rocky alcove to protect her from the wind. She approached her camp and shivered in the cold dark, hurrying to her cot and jumping underneath a swath of stolen jackets. She considered starting a fire, but decided against it. She didn't want to risk attracting Tuk'ata. The wind picked up, fast enough to penetrate even her shelter, and she curled up to try to retain a shred of warmth.

***​

The wild howled and swept past a dead and broken land. Anyone who cared to look in the cave would spy a pair of glowing orange eyes, sad and tired, slowly close as the girl fell into a fitful sleep.

[member="Muad Dib"] ~ [member="Sol Damerin"] ~ [member="Chikako Liona"] ~ [member="Lady Psyona"]​

 

[Rapax]

It has been awhile since he ever went to that dead world and knowing Muad no doubt it will be quite the adventure with the rewards being ...questionably worth the effort depending on the situation but he simply sent a response.

Name the meeting point and I shall be there.

Was all he said as he gathered his gear and walked out his dark purple eyes looked around as he waited for the people he was supposed to meet however he saw one witch he recognized being a member of his own pact Lady Psyona perhaps she was asked or knows given how geared she is for a simple stroll, But he simply walked around the streets keeping an eye out for those whom he was supposed to meet aside form Muad.



[member="Morrigan Lethani"] [member="Lady Psyona"] [member="Chikako Liona"] [member="Sol Damerin"] [member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Darth Rage]

Blood… It had seeped through his hands more times than he cared to count. For some reason it always reminded him of home. Perhaps it was the red sand. The course rough sand that grinded between his fingers, gritted itself between his toes. He didn’t know what to think of it. It wasn't that he didn't like sand. It was simply all the times he held his back in pain. The times his master had whipped him as a child, left his back seeping with blood. The times the blood had seeped between his digits like the blood red grains did now. He felt his back again, gingerly, as if the scars were still fresh. Rage shook his head as the memory faded.

He had come to korriban in search of something like that that beat in his own chest. A crystal construct, half machine, half sorcery, that when obtained granted the user immortality. He had his own means of everlasting life, but still he wondered how the others went about it. Creating such a construct that is. Whenever it came to things that allowed for life of the everlasting kind Audroti considered himself an expert.

He had outlived his old master, and since his time as a slave he loathed the title of master. He was a different kind of Sith. One whose beliefs were to strange for an empire. Whose times as a slave truly meant he was ready to brake chains. He did not believe in masters but one's will to live and the emotions that lead to this. How far were you willing to go to see yourself out last your enemies, see them rot in their graves, see them burn in eternal hell. This was the extent of the force to Rage. To overcome the hardships of those who challenged you, nothing more, nothing less. He was born of so many negative emotions that he himself became one.

Even so, Rage’s upbringing left him at an impasse when it came to those less fortunate than himself. He believed in no master. Only the will to see the ones you love and yourself survive. So as he traversed the red waste of Korriban during the setting dawn he spied a lone child in a cold tent. His glowing red heart would've beat for the girl if it could have. He bent low and beckoned to the child. He sensed a dark presence about her, but showed no fear of her. For if she wished to fight, Rage would show no hesitation in feeding off the soup of even this child...

[member="Morrigan Lethani"]

 

[Muad Dib]

As he finished his communications something or someone collided with his back, a dull thud and yelp following. Turning he cast his glowing gaze upon the young woman as she began to chastise him for milling in the hallway. Eyes flashed momentarily as a spike of anger coursed through him, but then he laughed loudly at the youth sitting on the floor.

"Aye, maybe I should have been off the beaten path. But next time look where you're going, others may not be quite as lenient as I."

Shaking his head once more he turned down the hall, then paused to glance over his shoulder.

"See you around kid."

Continuing on he found a place to crash as his original plan dictated. As he dropped to sleep he thought of the proposal of going to Korriban. And just who was the girl that careened into him and mouthed off at him. Amused he drifted into unconsciousness.

~

Days later he relaxed on the patio of a Corellian bar and grill. A half finished sandwich sat next to a mug of Corellian ale. Watching the pedestrians scurry along he seemed innocent enough himself. Just another guy grabbing a bite to eat and enjoying the early afternoon. Fingers flicked idly on the datapad as he reread some of the information he had gathered from the library.

Clearing his throat he took a drink of the ale and picked up the pad, focusing on the image of Dathka Graush. The Sith pureblood was an impressive specimen and, from what he gathered, quite formidable. It would be interesting to find the man's tomb.

As he continued reading he felt several echoes in the force. A few presences he had learned and recognized. Smirking slightly he let the force roll through him, amplifying his aura so it would be relatively easy for those looking for him to find the Mad Man.

However, just in case they others didn't wish to utilize the force to play the game of hide and seek he flicked the datapad over to a new app her had downloaded called 'FaceTime'. Typing in the several different comm frequencies he started s live feed. Raising the pad so the holocam would include his face and the establishment behind him he began.

"Hello my fellow adventurers. Sol, you ornery bastard, I'm getting bored and this place technically has a bar .... And we both know what happens when I'm left unattended. Cairyn, I'm getting hungry again and this place sells fresh nexu steaks ... And I'm getting hungry again. Rapax, you're slow brohiem and if you don't hurry I'm gonna start planning a return trip to Mandalore ... And I have a new toy for bribery. Lady Psyona, I'm feeling the urge to set things on fire cause I'm bored ... I hear the library of Mandragora has plenty of dusty old times and books ripe for a bonfire. So join me at the Solo's Hutt for a drink and a more satisfying experience ... Or I might make you all profiles on that new dating app on Coruscant. Well not you Sol, I already made one for you."

[member="Darth Rage"] I [member="Rapax"] I [member="Morrigan Lethani"] I [member="Lady Psyona"] I [member="Chikako Liona"] I [member="Sol Damerin"] I [member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Sol Damerin]

It wasn't long after receiving the message that Sol showed up in the bar. He settles down across from Muad he eyes the mad bastard. "For the record, I signed you up for that Gamorean dating service so I guess we are even." Although not really. Sol had no fixed addressed so it wasn't like Muad could sic a date onto him. Muad on the other hand... Well, he was a hell of a lot easier to track down than Sol.

Reaching over Sol steals a fry from the other man's plate while he waits for the waitress to come take his order. "Alright, what stupid thing are we doing this time? Also, who were the other people on the call?" He'd only recognized Rapax who So's experience with had consisted of watching him go off to fight when he should have been running. What that said about the guy Sol wasn't sure since he hadn't actually said one word to the man. The Civil War and been a cluster kark.

[member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Rapax"] | [member="Lady Psyona"]

 

[Luther Lewis]

The girl stirred fitfully in her sleep. Images came unbidden to her mind, fragmented and vague. She saw a madman push through a wide door, behind him a hooded man draped in shadow followed. There were two women, one with hair the colour of winter, the other with the colour of Autumn. A grizzled man watches their back as they descent into the heart of darkness. She walks after them, but her feet stick to the floor. She looks down, seeing blood welling beneath her feet. She tries to move, in vain, and the blood rises quickly. She screams as her head is pulled under. She fights desperately, trying to reach the surface. She finally breaks free, swims up and-

Morrigan opens her eyes and lurches up from her cot. She breathes hard, looking around frantically as lucidity returns. She'd had bad dreams every night, since she was born. It never got any easier and she dreaded falling asleep. She breathed in deeply, through her nose, and paused as a new scent hit her nose. It became stronger, pervading the air. Uncontrollably, her mouth started working itself up and down. A long line of drool dripped from her mouth. She knew the smell, like a starving man knew the smell of fresh baked bread.

The smell of FOOD.

She immediately reined herself in, fastening her muzzle to her face. It was made of leather, soaked in pungent chemicals that helped block out the smell. She hated it, both because of its smell and the necessity of wearing it. Warily, she climbed out from her shelter. The sun had finally set, and the last of the sun’s rays cast twilight over the sands of Korriban. She probed the surrounding area with her mind, searching for the source of the smell. It didn't take long. A tall man with blood-red skin and hair the colour of night approached.

She stayed back, withdrawing the force into herself. She spoke in a smooth, silky voice that seemed uncharacteristic of her...savageness. "I have little shelter to share and no food to spare". She doubted the man shared her taste in food anyway. "So, you'd best pass on" she continued. She was about to turn back, but hesitated. "Unless there was something else you wanted?"

~ [member="Darth Rage"] ~​

 

[Chikako Liona]

A couple of days passed since bumping into the man at the library, the man had been rather... brutish, she did not know where the man stood in the Confederacy but it seem he though he was above everyone else, or just had never talked to someone else of similar importance. Atill she would not put it past the person, she had met many ruder individuals before, so she would let it slide until a certain message came to her over decide and application that was unknown to her, but made the young Echani steam with anger. "ahah ah, dating site... what the fuck is that man doing, aaaaaarg, fine".

After a somewhat troublesome air speeder ride, which may have left the the driver a little deft, the somewhat short but affluent women entered the bar, earning a few confused and somewhat woohing stares as she strode over to the table where [member="Muad Dib"], though for the time being not caring who the other man was. She slammed her hands against the table giving him a somewhat death stare but for her age more appeared more like a pout then anything else, "What the hell are you thinking, with that stupid dating app, I can't be on there, it will ruin my reputation and maybe worse alter some of my families enemy that I am still alive, whats so important about this trip of yours anyways"?

[member="Sol Damerin"] l [member="Muad Dib"] l [member="Rapax"] l [member="Lady Psyona"]

 

[Chikako Liona]

Posted twice

 

[Chikako Liona]

Whoops

 

[Grace Darkson]

The woman was still at the spaceport when Muad's call came through. She listened with a calm demeanor until the Hutt-birthed Milsitja mentioned the library she was trying to finish stocking on Ryloth. Her cheeks flushed red, blood flooding them as her hand curled into a fist. Golden eyes blazed with fire as the Vahla shot her reply like envenomed darts at the man, her voice tinged with anger. "You little su'us na zo sosera! You try anything like that and I'll tear you to shreds!" Whether the comment was about the dating profile or the threat to her library was up in the air, at least for now. Burning in rage, the Sith began to storm towards the cantina, her hands curled into fists as her legs carried her down winding streets. After a few moments, the woman pulled out a datapad and typed the name of whatever crappy shindig Muad had found himself in.

------​

By the time she had made it there, the man was joined by someone else, and she had made sure that Muad was locked out of the Library for a few months. Whether or not it would stay that way was another matter entirely. Still, she glared at the man as she walked over, before swinging to backhand Muad. Without another word, she turned to the man she didn't recognize, smiled, and offered him a handshake. "I'm Lady Psyona. I'm guessing you're Sol?"

[member="Rapax"] | [member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Sol Damerin"] | [member="Chikako Liona"]​

 

[Darth Rage]

Audroti spied the girl as she exited the tent and entered the eerie moonlight of Korriban. The cries of Tu’kata could be heard faintly over the howling wind and Rage grimaced. He marched towards the girl and phrik boots made indents in the soft red sand. “Heed my wor-” He began but cut himself off as he realised the child was wearing a mask.

She spoke softly and soothingly, but despite this there was a feralness in her eyes. Rage eyed the girl cautiously. Perhaps she was a Sith spirit. With ghostly skin so grey, she easily could've been one of the dead. Rage shook his head as he remembered he had sensed her presence before. It was not one of the damned, but merely that of a lost child.

Albeit a wicked lost child. But, still a child all the same. Rage’s burning red gaze met soft innocent orange orbs and he attempted to take the girl by the hand. “I will take you to my own camp. It is well guarded and their is plenty of food,” Rage spoke, a hint of irritation in his voice. He still hadn’t figured out why the ghostly girl wore her mask and it irked him. Still, he would find out soon enough.

[member="Morrigan Lethani"]