Arrived in: Scorched Earth (
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/136853-scorched-earth/)
Wearing: 451 suit (
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/136742-451-suit/)
Armed with: Wind and Fire Wheels (Twin Blue Bladed lightsabers)
Corellia, countryside.
She had been chasing them across the planet ever since she had gotten the word. Four days of relentlessly trailing them through lonely rural areas, methodically interrogating every one of their underworld contacts. She had been led to a small, old manor, rotting in some parts from its all wood construction, after she had made it clear she'd turn them to ash if they didn't cooperate.
It wasn't soo much that they were sacrificing people on ancient altars...that was par for the course with most dark side groups. Too common to distinguish them from other cults.
What distinguished them was the fact that the people they sacrificed didn't die, so much as they were lobotomized, parts of their frontal lobes given to a ritual bowl and promptly burned to ash, sacrificed to something called The Brain Demon.
After the first three sacrifices had been found, the SJO had sent her to settle the matter. She was doing so with her usual swiftness as she walked upon the grounds of the manor, noting how isolated it was from major population centers. She doubted any of the authorities knew about this construction. This was something you kept quiet about, and it showed in the construction. Relatively simple, straight lines and angled archways, but just silent and rotting enough that the ordinary person (at least, the ones who had common sense) wouldn't have dared go near it.
The name of the spirit they were trying to appeal to rang a bell. The Order of The Brain Demon had been fairly minor during the Gulag Plague but aggressive...they'd murdered Moya De Lifte, one of The Jedi Masters whose Alkahest Formulas Syd's creators had modified when making Syd, by throwing her into a lake of black fire on Atrisia, some foul dark nexus that had finally been sealed off by her and the Resistors at too high a cost.
Subtle ones. Quiet ones. That's how she characterized the cult. And why she had hunted them down with more zealousness than normal. The quiet ones were always the ones you took care of first and the quickest when you learned about them. The loud ones, you knew where they were. The quiet ones were
scheming.
They didn't sound like a cult though. More like two enthusiasts digging up some best-forgotten entity and running wild with whatever they thought it wanted.
The set up on the inside only reinforced this. She saw corpses strewn about, likely unlucky wanderers or hikers. Badly decomposed. She regretted her sense of smell in humanoid form. The inside was even more rotted than without, and the dark sigils scorched into the walls led her to believe this to be some old site of the genuine cult these two pretenders had found by accident. She hated it when this happened. These darksiders had really gone crazy with the whole 'murderous secret hideout' thing. It had been
bad during the Gulag Plague but it seemed to be even worse in this era now that the population had crept back up. The rats, in addition to haunting the expected haunts, like Dromund Kaas, Korriban, that horrible hellhole called Dxun, full of so much
water, ugh, had simply decided 'Screw It' and just burrowed so many new nests in so many unexpected places Syd knew they'd never find them all. There was always one more evil artifact, one more old tomb, one more tome written by an unhinged maniac hidden somewhere in the shadows to start the whole wretched cycle anew.
But Syd was not as commited to it in the past as she might have been. Sure, she was 'programmed' to destroy, but as the weeks wore on she had begun to think more about herself and what she wanted then she ever had during the Plague.
Not concerned with two bargain-bin dark adepts, and focused more on her archeology expertise and where that could land her a part time job, she almost did not see the Zabrak in the brown armor, male, try and activate a lightsaber into the area where a ribcage would normally be, and Syd almost didn't dodge it. But Syd managed to turn aside the blade with one of her own blue ones. His tattoos were white and purple, and a jagged, strange black crescent was painted on his forehead.
Syd sighed, thinking about that roomy apartment she had just signed for. She was talented enough to trade in alchemized items alone...in this era there was always someone with the money for it...but Syd refused to ply her knowledge of such things for mere credits. It was more appropriate to curate and identify such items, and earn money like that.
Syd lazily deflected the Makashi stab that followed.
"New guy?" Syd asked, disinterested in the response. She considered adopting a pet, but a creature kept caged or obedient resonated too much with her own situation.
The Zabrak snarled, but approached cautiously. Syd did not react as he made an attempt to behead her, inflicting an impressive and cleverly timed set of chops and slashes. His variant of Makashi was two handed, slower and less mobile but more power and focus to basic attacks. Syd dodged or parried with only ine blade at first, turning aside red bladed chops as she moved steadily backward through the rotting manor, the red and blue flashes lighting up the disinterest on her face. She was working to turn aside the cultists attacks with genuine effort, because he was fast and strong, and she hadn't seen an attack from him yet she thought was safe enough to try and actually block, but she sensed nothing about him in power or skill that made her truly worry.
Nothing except...a trace...of something. Too weak for her to sense properly...but it was driving him...controlling him. Not the Dark Side, but something close...
Syd turned aside his saber attacks, the flashes reflecting on her red and gold chrome suit, reflecting his face, reddened by an angrily hued lightsaber.
"Ok, one chance...where are the ones I was sent here for?" Syd asked, growing annoyed by the minute. When he merely snarled and attacked again, Syd spun out of his way to the left of him, seizing his arm with a gold chromed glove. He dropped, shrieking in pain. The touch of Syd was horribly painful to those who used the Darkness. He was a weak one...strong ones fought through it...
Syd made a demand. "Call to them."
The man tried to thrash out of her grip, but the pain made him drop to his knees. He tried to slash with his blade, but Syd parried and cut off the arm of her attacker in the rebound, then kicked him hard in the face, knocking him out.
Syd sighed, knealt down, searched him after destroying his lightsaber, and retrieved a small clay idol on his person, that of a emaciated Togrutan woman who lacked a face. Her eyes narrowed.
"Why a Togrutan?" Syd wondered out loud. She never got cults, despite having been made by an organization that functioned in practice as such. At least The Resistors never did this stuff. All they did was make a killing machine made of fire. A killing machine just barely getting the idea of what independence and a goal of her own might be like.
This man didn't match the reports. Obviously just initiated. Seemed they were starting up the cult again.
Syd sighed. It was always the quiet ones. The Geist rose, phasing through the ceiling to begin her long search and clear the place...
Later on...
The two she had been chasing had fled Corellia hours ago. Skittish, these ones. A bit more clever than she had given them credit for. Frustrated, Syd had lifted off in the Scorched Earth, setting course for Kashyykk. She'd been hidden in its shadowlands and going near the forest gave her jitters to this day. Too enclosed. She took comfort in the fact she didn't have ro go near it.
Syd was putting off the search for a day, to clear her head, mingle, socialize. It was winter, but her suit would protect her, skintight though it might be.
It would also get her off the ship. She'd been on her Gulag Plague schedule again. Never ceasing, never stopping her pursuit. But not today. She needed a genuine rest.
Syd touched down in the field, heading to the Rest and spotting [member="Matsu Ike"] and a slightly familiar face from when she had first shown her face, [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] and decided to say hi. Her eyes glowed orange as she floated over to the man and his loud tie, setting down close by him at the bar, ordering a lighter. The enclosed nature of the pace made being so bold and having to contend with her claustrophobic nature made Syd's nervousness even worse. She had not been made to socialize. She was barely starting to with Master Wu.
How
did people socialize?
Syd decided to order a lighter, and when the bartender said there was a no smoking, Syd's only reply was "I want the lighter, not a cigarette. Trust me, you'll like this."
The bartender sighed and gave her it. She lit it and using her full focus, twisted the flame into her hands, making a butterfly construct of flame. She made it fly, around the bartender's head before making it fly into her mouth, the tell tale furnace glow in her throat lighting up a bit as it did.
"Hello, Master Xeraic. Enjoying your evening?" Syd asked, turning to him and away from the amazed bartender.
