Stolen Souls

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

Rabbit sparrow tenkalus Bars and nightclubs never lasted very long in Kaas City – which was not to say that there weren’t plenty of them. They simply never lasted and Imago wasn’t entirely sure why that was. Legal complications, maybe. Young bored Sith had a way of creating those. Another few years and it might be recognized as a right of passage. Schway defied the trend, though. Originally built to serve the spaceport, its rough appearance hadn't changed much over the years – except perhaps to sag a little more towards the ground. The speeder lot out front was cracked and pitted, slowly being reclaimed by the planet’s voracious jungle. The inside wasn’t much better, really. Worn down, wood and warm colors and stringy, sticky carpet. But Imago thought it had a certain charm. Everything shook as a ship took off next door. Imago grit his teeth and held on to his drinks, palms down over the top of a row of sloshing shot glasses filled nearly to the brim. Perhaps charm was too generous. But the drinks were cheap and the location itself could hardly be more convenient. He downed another of the shots, dried his hands with a bar towel, and took another not-so-subtle glance around. A couple days ago, Imago had thought that someone would probably stop him. If even half of the rumors were true, volunteering for this recon mission to Teth was suicidal – not to mention perhaps the single stupidest thing he’d ever done. Reluctantly, he’d begun to accept the fact that this was really happening. It had started when all of his procurement requests had actually been approved. The personal starship of the late Darth Novus, fueled up and fully stocked. Who wouldn’t want to take that for a little spin around the galaxy? A suit of top of the line space armor, sized for his slightly atypical build of “too fucking tall” and whipcord thin. Now officially the most expensive clothing he’d ever owned, but he still didn’t want to die in it. If this was his last night alive among civilization, Imago intended to enjoy it.

[Rabbit]

Keelen paused at the door of what had to be one of Kaas City's oldest, dingiest bars. At least...one of its oldest, dingiest bars on its upper levels. Then again, what did he expect from a spaceport establishment?

Still...the Chiss mused as he stepped fully into what was apparently the appointed meeting place for a highly classified mission, it seemed suitable for the purpose it would provide for at least the next hour (if that much, even). There was hardly anyone present and the music from the corner jukebox was so loud, it was practically guaranteed to overpower any potential eavesdroppers. The rattle and roar of leaving spacecraft also added to the over-stimulating ambiance. It was hardly the sort of place one would expect a handful of Sith to frequent.

It was easy to spot Lord Imago - Keelen knew next to nothing about the man, except that he was an Epicanthix like his own apprentice, Astrid. This time, the Chiss had made sure to let his oftentimes over-enthusiastic apprentice know that she was going to be encountering another one of her species in another - infinitely higher-ranking - Sith. He suppose he couldn't fault her for her occasional excitement. If he ran into another Chiss in the galaxy - even if they happened to be a Jedi - he'd have been compelled to stop and at least attempt a civil conversation. There was something to encountering someone from one's own culture and species, that couldn't be replicated by any other sort of friend or acquaintance.

Keelen strode toward the man sitting solitary at the scarred wooden bar; he didn't even look behind him to see if Astrid was following, knowing instinctively that his apprentice shadowed his every move. At first, it had slightly annoyed Keelen, to be constantly followed, but now there was something familiar and almost comforting in the knowledge that he was hardly ever alone. Astrid was a warm presence in the Force to the Chiss - the only warm presence he ran across these days, it seemed. "Warm" was hardly an adjective associated with the Sith at large.

Astrid had peppered him with a dozen questions on their way to the spaceport, but Keelen had very little information to give her. He barely knew what was going on, except that he had been requested by name for what quite possibly amounted to a suicide mission to a planet he'd never heard of before. A place called "Teth", on the very edge of Hutt space. The news was everywhere, it seemed, ever since the Empire had issued its travel advisory for all of its many, and scattered, citizens. Something had happened on Teth - something bad, something troubling enough to put the Sith themselves on edge. Keelen hadn't been able to ignore the edge beneath the every day interactions of the beings who called Kaas City home. He hadn't been able to ignore the quiet sense of confusion, alarm, and even panic. Those who were Force Sensitive seemed to be particularly uneasy and as a result, the Chiss Praetor had been even more curt and brusque than normal. Astrid had been growing enough in the Force to at east pick up on his shifting mood, and while she'd been fairly bursting with questions, she'd wisely curbed her enthusiasm after only a few terse answers.

"Lord Imago," Keelen stopped just an arm's length away from the man in question and bowed his head slightly in polite greeting. "Lord Inrok'eele'nuruodo present, as requested," he turned slightly and motioned toward the young woman who had stopped beside him. "And my apprentice, Astrid Blackspyre."

The Chiss eyed the shot glasses arrayed in front of Imago and suppressed the urge to lift an eyebrow in mild concern. He shifted the rucksack on his shoulders ever so slightly as he reached up and grasped the straps with both of his large, strong hands. Keelen was dressed in simple black fatigues, over which he wore well-crafted armor of medium weight that had been painted a matte black. The brightest thing on his person was his own skin and eyes, as well as the light saber hilts at his hips. Otherwise, as usual, the Chiss barely looked like one would expect a Sith - he was dressed simply, as a soldier, a humble weapon of the Empress.

He shifted his scarlet eyes from the shot glasses back to Imago's face. If the leader of the expedition was starting out with several shots of what clearly smelled like strong liquor, then that didn't bode well for what loomed on their horizon...

[tenkalus]

After having been introduced to certain high-life splendors in her short time as a Sith Apprentice, Astrid had to actually make the conscious effort not to scrunch up her nose in distaste as they entered “Schway”. It was dingy, it was dirty, and it was loud. It plucked an all-too familiar chord within her, speaking heavily of some of the places she’d been as a slave. The scar tissue on the back of her neck where her shock collar used to live, throbbed with the memory and she idly reach back to soothingly rub the spot. It was a mark of shame in her history, and Astrid didn’t freely share the fact. Her Master of course, already knew her history. But to anyone else, there was a reason why apprentice Blackspyre wore scarves and high collared tunics and jumpsuits. She didn’t need anyone else knowing she’d been weak enough to be taken a slave. Even if it had been when she was a child.

Today was no different in that regard. Though she massaged the spot into quiet, it had already been in hiding, sheathed by the high-necked jumpsuit she’d elected to wear. She was practical, like her Master. He’d told her to come prepared for anything, and so she’d picked out armor that would protect her in almost any situation. A durasteel breastplate that tapered down to her waistline, to protect her heart, lungs and abdomen. Bicep armor to protect her arms, and the bracers and gauntlets that Keelen himself had given her to sync better with her personal fighting style. She had a standard soldier’s utility belt strapped around her waist to carry her odds and ends. Then there were the armored thigh plates and knee-high armored boots that gave her an additional inch of cushioned height, placing her a couple of inches over her own Master’s head. And all of it was situated overtop a jumpsuit not terribly unlike Keelen’s own, save for the fact that it was tighter to her skin, and made of flexiform material so as not to restrict her movements. And to top it all off, she had a smaller rucksack, of the same make as her Master’s.

But while this particular set of gear wasn’t unnatural for Astrid to wear, there were two pieces that now accompanied it that were new.

First, was the Sith breath mask that she’d had the armorer on their cruiser, The Revenant, custom modify. Instead of the mask staying situated over her mouth and nose permanently, she’d had him rig up an apparatus she could wear around her head that allowed the mask to sit on the center of her forehead like an over-large black tiara. If and when she needed to use the mask, she would pull it down, and the mechanism would lock it in place over her face and seal. The new setup allowed her to be comfortable as long as possible before having to seal for biological threats in the air, or at worst case scenario, hard vacuum. The mask only had a built in air supply of about 5 minutes, like an aquatic breather, so using it in vacuum would be ill advised.

The second item new to her person, was a brand new lightsaber hanging from her belt. Which wasn’t to say the saber itself was new. No, it usually found home in Keelen's belongings. She'd not yet earned the right to construct her own or by Sith standard, be awarded her own as she was still just an acolyte. But Keelen had seen fit to arm her properly when they would potentially be in harms way. He wanted his apprentice to be able to defend herself.

And so now she carried the weapon of a Sith on her belt. She could use it moderately, but she wouldn’t be dueling anyone with it anytime soon.

As she returned her attention to the here and now, she noticed one of their cohort already waiting for them. Lord Keelen had indeed informed her that there would be other Epicanthix on this mission. And while normally she would have gone into straight fangirl mode to meet other members of her race and from her homeworld, Astrid had quickly gotten the hint that her master was serious about this mission. So now Astrid was serious too. There would be time later to ask them about their experiences of growing up on Panatha, and if they had known of her father. If she wasn’t mistaken, both of the others would have been of an age where they’d be at least familiar with the name Blackspyre. Her father had been a soldier of some note prior to his assassination.

But instead of speaking for once, Astrid remembered who she was. She was Lord Keelen’s student. His protege. His learner. So she remained silent as she was introduced, and instead simply nodded to this Lord Imago in greeting. She kept her expression neutral, but on the cautious side of alert. This wasn’t a game they were going go be engaged in. It was a mission for the Empress.

Everything else didn’t matter.

[sparrow]

“There was a time I would have loved to have the time to visit Teth,” the old Twi’lek chuckled, “But I don’t envy you having to go now.” Maneuvering his hoverchair to the table where Zarene had placed the basket of plums, he grabbed a fruit with his wiry, pale green fingers, and took a bite. “Mmm… good batch.”

Leaning against the wall, Zarene crossed her arms in front of her chest as she gave Sebban an annoyed look. “So do you have anything useful, or did I just give you those for free?”

While one would be hard-pressed to guess it judging by his thin frame and wrinkled face, but Sebban once had a promising career as an Imperial Intelligence field agent, which had been cut short by the incident that cost him both legs. That had been decades ago. Confined to a hover chair after turning down the option of cybernetic legs, he since dedicated himself to a new position as an analyst. A recluse, he rarely left his dark underground office. “But I get to see so much more,” he was rather fond of saying. "Not tripping over things ain't bad either."

This had been there arrangement since they had first worked together on a mission so many years ago, shortly after Zarene had first joined the Sith. Information for information. And when there was an imbalance, the plums made up the difference.

“The eyes and ears on Teth have almost all gone dark,” he replied grimly. “This is all I’ve got.” A video began playing on one of the many monitors scattered throughout the room. Dark inhuman shapes, barely visible through the dust. Corpses on the ground, moans of the dying. A number of what appeared to security forces appeared, only to be quickly cut down by a volley of thrown spikes. The video cut out soon after.

Zarene watched silently, mouth hanging slightly open. Sebban nodded solemnly. “This isn’t like fighting the Republic or the Jedi where you know what you’re dealing with. I don’t know what these things are, where they came from, or the full extent of what they do. I’m... afraid I don’t have much advice, other than bringing as much firepower as you can and a rebreather with a good filtration system for your armor.”

She nodded, still unsure of what to say. As she turned to leave, the old twi’lek spoke up again. “I don’t get many visitors down here, so please do try to come back alive.” He always said that.

A few hours later, she found herself at the landing pad of the Kaas spaceport, dressed in full armor save for helmet, and sitting on top of the crate of guns she had requisitioned. “Lord Imago,” she spoke into her comlink, “Sagitta reporting in. I’ll skip the drinks and meet you directly at the landing pad.”

Now, for the hard decisions. Repeater rifle or modified bowcaster?

[Neology]

Rabbit sparrow tenkalus Imago’s posture stiffened as he sensed the others coming. He liked to think of himself as good with people, but other members of the Sith Order … Well, they tended to be awful prickly, so it was hard to say. It depended on the Sith. A few minutes of observation usually sorted it out. That was not helpful right now, of course, when he’d got to the meeting point early enough to get a good buzz going. Rats. Angling himself toward the new arrivals, Imago’s gaze lingered on the chiss. He guessed they were of a similar height, if he were to stand up straight. But Lord In-rock-etcetera looked as if he might actually belong on a mission like this: musclebound and sturdy as hell. Imago grinned and held out his hand to shake, first to the chiss and then to the silent young woman beside him. ”Good to meet you two. Uh, I hope you wont hold this against me, but got anything I can call you in a hurry?” The others were already dressed for the mission, drawing a few gazes from Schway’s lonely staff and hard-bitten regulars. The call from Lady Sagitta cinched it. No lingering. She didn’t have the keys, after all. ”Damn. You’re no fun, you know? We’ll be over in a minute.” Imago replied into his wrist comm. He tossed back a final shot, leaving a few remaining on the counter with a look of over-exaggerated regret. ”Want any? No?” The walk was short, at least. A quick ID scan to confirm Imago was who he said he was and a smartly dressed blonde tech led them all out to a much-disused landing pad on the other side of the complex. The late Darth Novus’ fast courier, the NZT-331 prototype, crouched on the pavement, a gleaming black and silver spider. Imago waved hello at Sagitta. ”The trip’ll be a couple days. There’s two small cabins and a barrack, put down wherever – I can pretty much sleep anywhere.” Up the loading ramp, they came out into the small cargo bay. Imago’s personal equipment waited among the other various crates and cases here. He unbuttoned his jacket, revealing the plain gray t-shirt beneath. ”So, uhm, how much do you guys know about this job? Teth and such. Some kind of huge, alien fleet and they want us looking at the plants they brought with ‘em …” Imago didn’t understand all of that, exactly, but he tried not to let it bother him. This would make his career. He knew the NZT-331 was the right ship for the job. It was the fastest thing in the Imperial fleet – or at least it had been circa ten years ago. It paid the price for that in armor and firepower, of course, and the inside was cramped and uncomfortable to make room for the advanced hyperdrive and realspace engines. None of that mattered, he figured. If they had to fight ship to ship, they were pretty much screwed anyway.

[Rabbit]

Keelen followed Lord Imago as the Sith briefly addressed someone on the other end of a comlink - at least, the Chiss assumed it was a comlink. Otherwise, Lord Imago had a bad habit of talking to himself, which never boded well.

Without a word, the Praetor followed his fellow Sith out of the bar and through the spaceport toward the appropriate docking bay. Imago had almost an easy-going way about him, which was unexpected. For a Sith, he was down-right friendly...at least, so far. Keelen was hardly fooled. The Epicanthix man would show his true colors soon enough. But, at least, he didn't make things awkward, as the Chiss was used to from other Sith.

"My core name is Keelen," he answered the question Imago had asked before he'd responded to his comlink call; a slight smile lifted the very edge of his lips. "I trust that should be an easier name to manage in a pinch."

The Chiss glanced over at Astrid - he had introduced her, but from here on out, she could speak for herself. He absently wondered what she'd tell Imago to call her. For his own self, Keelen had yet to call her anything other than "Apprentice". Occasionally, he barked out "Darkspyre", but he had never called her by her first name. It just seemed...so personal, to do so. In Chiss culture, a relationship such as their's - a superior to his subordinate - demanded proper protocol. Titles and last names, exclusively. First names were reserved for family, close friends, and other intimate relationships.

Keelen amused himself with the question of whether or not he'd ever find himself in a position to call his apprentice by her first name. Unlike he and his own master, Astrid was entirely too young for the sort of relationship he'd had with Darth Viscera. But, perhaps one day, when she had ascended to a Lord of the Sith herself, he could consider her a friend.

The Chiss lifted an eyebrow in quiet interest as he eyed the approaching ship. He didn't think he'd ever seen one like this one before. His scarlet eyes lingered over the ship's smooth lines and sleek profile. It looked like it had been built for speed. Keelen filed that away for later - the fact that they were going in with a ship that was built for speed and not for defense or offense, told him something important. This was an escape vehicle, essentially. Whatever they were going in to face, Lord Imago apparently didn't intend to engage if he could avoid it. In and out, that's what Keelen read in the ship now looming above him as he started to ascend the boarding ramp.

The Praetor's thoughts were redirected as Imago "introduced" him and Astrid to the ship as a whole. His eyes flickered over toward the familiar figure of Lord Zarene, who he had met briefly at the last Unification Day soiree at Dark Solis' estate. His consideration then moved back to Astrid, then over toward Imago again.

"I would suggest we allow Apprentice Blackspyre and Lord Zarene to take the cabins. You and I can take racks in the berthing area. That is," the Chiss snorted softly with dry humor. "If the racks are large enough," he straightened his shoulders ever so slightly, to draw attention to the not-so-subtle fact that he was the tallest individual present (though, admittedly, not by much, given that his companions were all Epicanthix) and the widest individual by a long-shot. "If not, I don't mind sleeping on the deck myself."

It wouldn't be the worst place he'd ever slept, he added to himself. Far, far from it, in fact. Thankfully, Imago's question about how much they knew about the mission at hand, kept Keelen's thoughts from traveling too close to his memories of Nar Shaddaa.

"I can't speak for Lord Zarene, obviously, but I know next to nothing about what we're being sent to do, or to encounter," Keelen's voice was deep and a little gruff, as it usually was when talking business. "The only thing I knew was the planet's name," the Chiss' red eyes glittered with interest as he continued. "And I've read the rumors about an alien fleet, though no one has offered details as to who or what they are. What's this about plants, though? What do you know, exactly? Your summons hardly offered details."

[tenkalus]

Anything he can call me in a hurry?! How lazy is this guy? Astrid thought to herself as she followed Keelen and Imago out to the dock.

How much shorter from Astrid can you get? Ass? Ohhh I swear to the Force if whats-his-face calls me Apprentice Ass, I’ll punch his face until I make pudding. Lord or no!

“Um.. I uh.. Just. Astrid, I guess? If… that’s short enough?” She offered as they walked, narrowing her eyes in confusion as if explaining logic to an invalid. “... My Lord…” she added as a late afterthought when she looked at the back of Keelen’s head.

Etiquette! Astrid sauntered through her own mind’s eye and ticked off a finger into the air with enough sass to fill a cruiser. Check, annnnnd Check. Nailed it.

But her inner sass was silenced as they came into view of their ride. Astrid’s eyes widened slightly as she looked over the sleek lines. “Ohhh wow! An NZT-331 Fast Courier! I’ve never seen one up close! I hear-.” she cut herself off at the odd look Keelen gave her.

She clamped down on her exuberance and cleared her throat, adopting a more professional tone and added some bass to her voice, “I heard they were fast…” she said, aiming for nonchalance.

Like her master was likely doing at that very moment, Astrid was looking at the shape and armament of their temporary home. Fast Courier’s were built for… well, fast courier-ing. It said a lot about the mission they were about to embark on when the most heavily armed weapon they were toting was Astrid.

Means we might need to get in and out in a hurry. Need to keep my cool if we get engaged… she thought warily, building combat tactics in her mind already.

And then there was Zarene.

Astrid’s mind went on three tangents at once. She was a dutiful apprentice to Lord Keelen. She had to make a good impression for Lord Imago, but both he and Zarene were kinsmen to her. She’d promised herself not to let that take precedence over the mission.

….buuuuuuuuuuuut the mission hadn’t really started yet, right?…. Sooooooo…..

She couldn’t help herself. Astrid fell into step with Keelen but slowed her pace and ended up two steps behind and three steps to his left. When she saw Lord Zarene, she brightened and waved animatedly at her fellow female Epicanthix, beaming a huge smile for a moment. She remembered the woman from the Unification Day party, and still couldn’t tell if Zarene liked her, hated her, looked down at her, or was completely indifferent to her. But she was kin and another woman, and Astrid’s father had taught manners on these things.

As much as he could, anyway.

Her wave was done strategically to fall behind Keelen, where his body would block her movement from line of sight to Imago, and it was done fast enough to where Keelen himself might simply think she was prepping for a sneeze and didn’t want to spray her master with nose debris and spit.

Astrid looked out for her Master as much as he did for her. It was a good partnership.

<<Good to see you again Zar-.. My Lor-..Lord Zarene!>> she said in their native tongue of Epicant. And just as quickly as the wave began, Astrid shoved her hands back down and became a brooding Sith again. She would win her fellow Epicanthix over to her side eventually. It was just a matter of time, and apparently they had plenty of time on the way to Teth, which Astrid openly admitted to the group as they boarded the ship, she knew nothing about. She was the only apprentice on this particular flight and her inexperience was starting to show. Silently, she wondered if she would need to call everyone ‘My Lord’ for the whole flight. At least she could mix it up with Keelen by calling him ‘Master’.

Everything was going fine until Keelen offered input on sleeping arrangements.

Wait. She thought as she slowly turned her shoulders toward him, not moving her head as her eyes came into view of her Master.

…….Did he just make a tall joke? No no no… did he just make ANY kind of joke? Does he even do that? I don’t know what he’s thinking about, with my boots on I’m bigger than he is anyway...

The rest of the conversation was lost to Astrid completely.

[sparrow]

Acknowledging Imago with a nod as he approached with the others, Zarene stood up from the crate she had been sitting on. The other two, the Chiss Keelen and his apprentice Astrid Blackspyre, she had met once before, at Empress Renata’s Unification Day gala. She could not help but wonder, given her albeit limited knowledge of the mission at hand, why an apprentice was being brought along on the mission. Perhaps she had some special skill that would prove valuable for the task at hand. They would see in time.

The apprentice Blackspyre was still a bit of a puzzle to her. Her master Keelen overall seemed a fairly straightforward fellow: professional, blunt, maybe a disinclination towards reading mission briefings. But Zarene wasn’t sure what to think of the apprentice. From the behavior she had observed from the gala and what she had been able to glean from her file, she could be quite brutal to her fellow apprentices and others she regarded as beneath her, but near anyone of rank, and she seemed to transform into a pile of smiles and stutters. Genuine or an act? Zarene wasn't sure yet.

She arched an eyebrow quizzically when Keelen addressed her as Lord Zarene. When was the last time anyone had called her that? To most others in the Order, she was simply Yin, or Lady Sagitta to the apprentices or anyone else that wanted to be more formal.

As Keelen began opining on sleeping arrangements, she glanced at Astrid. <I suppose if the men want to compete as to who can on the hardest surface, who am I to complain?> she said in Epicant. Looking to Imago, she switched back to Basic. “Do you have anything that wasn’t in the briefing to share? If not then let's be off soon.” She lifted her palm slightly, as the crate rose into the air to levitate a few inches above the ground. Some of the equipment needed assembly and calibration, and this standing around was boring her.

[Neology]

Rabbit sparrow tenkalus ”Uhh … Yeah. They are! I should know, my family built ‘em. Or, well … I guess we owned the company that did.” Imago ruffled his hair, blinking skeptically as the ladies exchanged a few words in Epicant. Since the apprentice – Astrid – appeared to be literally hiding behind her master from him, he thought it might be better to let it pass unremarked upon. ”So long as none of you mistake me for actin’ chivalrous. I think everyone should have the right to wake up with a sore back and a crick in the neck.” Shrugging, Imago led the way to the bridge, pointing out areas of interest as they went. This was shaping up to be a strange few days in transit, if he was reading his new companions right. Sagitta was as wry and deadpan as ever, and Keelen seemed strangely but not unpleasantly even keeled. But what, exactly, had he done to upset Blackspyre? Apart from his comment about the ship, he hadn’t said a thing to her. ”Just rumors and theories, my lords. Everything else you can pump from the ship’s databanks. Though, I do know that a Knight of Ascension was dispatched a few weeks ago to look into a new spice in Hutt space. Said to grant force sensitivity to the force blind.” Imago paused momentarily for dramatic effect and dropped into the copilot’s seat, smug as a cat with a mouthful of canary. Even he could see that the implications of something of that nature that could and would be huge. The Empire had to get a handle on it before anyone else. ”Officially, he never returned ... But I hear he did not survive his debriefing with Her Radiance. “Now, new spice, weird alien plants … My guess is someone upstairs thinks they could be connected. And we need good, first hand information anyway. Lucky us, to live and serve in such a time.” Buoyed up by the alcohol in his belly and a dreaded-but-familiar snowballing mania, Imago found himself really, sincerely meaning that. ”So, I really hope that one of you knows how to fly or we’re gonna need to call someone in for that. I can juuust about park a shuttle on a completely level, clear landing pad. On a sunny day.” Several days later. The NZT-331 departed the swirling eddies of hyperspace as close to Teth as could be dared. The sight was a surreal one; a thicket of violet coral in high orbit. No, shipyards or something like them, he corrected, tracking lights across the viewport. There, a pair of Hutt cruisers – Imago couldn’t fly, but he did love to read about ships – idling in dock. Why? Suddenly, one of those strings of lights peeled towards them. Gripping the back of the pilot’s chair, Imago shifted his gaze reluctantly to the sensor readouts. Fighters. ”Get us close to Inner Teth.” Giving the chair a final pat, Imago turned and ran to man one of the turrets.

[Rabbit]

In an unexpected turn of events, Keelen wound up occupying the NZT-331's pilot seat for most of the flight to Teth. He had learned how to fly under the tutelage of his late master. He had asked her to teach him, actually, since he never wanted to be in the sort of situation he had been when the slaver, Krugo, had found him exiled on an unnamed, unexplored planet on the far edges of Wild Space - the Chiss never wanted to be stuck planet-side and at the mercy of strangers. Flying wasn't something he did much of, after his ascension to Lord, and he could hardly be considered an "ace", but he had solid skills as a pilot and hadn't much minded lending those skills to the mission at hand.

The flight had been largely uneventful, especially once they'd jumped into hyperspace. That had given Keelen plenty of time to pull up everything he could about the situation on Teth on the Imperial military databases that he had access to (which were, admittedly, quite a few), and to message various contacts to supplement what gaps of information his own channels left. The picture his research gave him of what they were flying into, was grim indeed.

They were going to face a heretofore unknown alien species that assimilated other sentient beings into their collective in what Keelen thought was quite possibly the most gruesome and barbaric fashion possible. In fact, the known details of the "plague" that was the hivemind's primary method of "converting" other beings made Keelen's skin crawl. The idea that one could be infected by simply breathing was bad enough, but apparently breathing masks could only work for so long - and, if Keelen was understanding the language of the reports he had been reading, said masks only worked as long as the one wearing it was passive. In other words, not fighting...which was a difficult state of being for a Cultist of Strife to maintain, to say the least.

Especially when they were heading into the literal ground zero of said plague.

And, apparently, Force Sensitives were particularly targeted by this alien affliction. Sapient Force Sensitives.

Well...check, check, check, and check, for everyone on board.

When they dropped out of hyperspace, Keelen was as well-informed as nearly anyone in the Empire could be about what was facing them. The limited details of the mission that Imago had provided made more sense now, too - apparently, their little squad had been tasked with investigating the strange crystalline "trees", and the giant masses of white fungi that they grew out of, that had popped up since the aliens had infected Teth. As a result, Keelen was not in the finest of moods - a military battle between known entities was one thing. Hand-to-hand combat with a Jedi, or another trained Force Sensitive was one thing. But, investigation of a hostile alien species, at the risk of exposure to their deadly and physically-altering plague, was another.

So, needless to say, Keelen had been even more quiet than usual during the flight. He had barely spoken to Imago, and to Lord Sagitta not at all. He'd spoken at some length with Astrid, but only to brief her on the particulars of what they were going into. Otherwise, he'd spent his time in the pilot's seat, meditating in the way he had adapted to fit virtually any situation he was in - in this particular instance, seated with both feet on the deck, his hands loosely draped over the arms of the chair, and his eyes open to the starlines streaking past him. In fact, Keelen had long found that using the almost hypnotic quality of the starlines to aid a meditative state was particularly beneficial. He used the time to practically saturate himself in the Force and to strengthen his mind for what lay ahead.

He had instructed Astrid to do the same, in her own way and wherever she wished to do so on board. Something told Keelen that this was a mission that would either make or break them all...himself in particular. He wanted himself, and his apprentice, to be prepared.

He was not surprised when they dropped out of hyperspace and found their adversary (in the form of some sort of alien structure) waiting for them in the void around Teth. Though, admittedly, the nature of the structure surprised him - it was violet (something told Keelen was he going to learn to hate that color) and looked for all the world like an orbital shipyard, of sorts. Though, admittedly, the only thing that lead him to conclude anything approximating a shipyard, was the two ships docked alongside it.

The structure looked ethereal, almost - otherwordly and sinister. Keelen felt his lips thin as he watched one of the ships peel away from dock.

The Chiss grunted at Imago, who had been standing behind him when they dropped into orbit - Keelen wasn't sure what the Lord of Truth had come up to the cockpit for (presumably to talk to him about something, he imagined), since no sooner had Imago approached him, than they had arrived at their destination. The Lord of Strife hardly had to be told to get closer to Teth, though he was thankful for the specifics. Specifics were always nice to know.

"Apprentice," the Chiss' deep voice grumbled into the comlink that extended from his ear and stopped midway down his right cheek. "Left turret gun. Now."

He assumed that Imago, or Lord Sagitta, would get to the other - he secretly hoped Sagitta, since he didn't quite trust a Cultist of Truth to have the sort of aim required of a Cultist who's whole purpose was dedicated to the total art of war. Though, he supposed absently, as he switched power to the main thrusters, Her Radiance probably wouldn't have chosen Imago to head the mission, if he wasn't a capable fighter in his own right.

Still...

In speederbike parlance, Keelen put the pedal to the metal. The NZT-331's advantage lay in its speed, so that's what he called on to push them faster toward Teth's atmosphere.

It was up to his apprentice - and whoever else - to take care of the rest.

[tenkalus]

“Relax, Astrid. If your muscles are stressed when you move, your mind will follow. Lose yourself in the fluidity of movement.”

“Yes papa.” She replied, consciously willing her muscles to loosen as she stepped slowly through the motions. It was a solo dance of slowly executed palm strikes, punches and kicks. Each punch was extended at quarter speed and ended in an accented snap. Each kick was elevated high and held to emphasize balance and precision.

The same kick slowly swished through the air in the tight quarters of their transport ship as the much older Astrid Blackspyre performed her solitary martial form. She held her long leg aloft at a 145 degree angle, with her foot ending up parallel with her forehead as she leaned back to shift her balance.

As a child, Astrid’s father had shown her the form to help center herself when she was upset or angry. Surprisingly, even at a young age, it had worked well for her even if she hadn’t been quite as practiced with it at the time. But years of further practice in her off time as a slave had enhanced her appreciation for what she now knew was called Moving Meditation.

It was true, Astrid had read the briefing before they’d left for Teth. But the information that her Master had given her about what they were up against further emphasized her need for caution. Information simply had more meaning when Keelen gave it the gravity of his concern. She knew her Master was deep in his own thoughts now, preparing for the trials to come. And so Astrid was also mentally fortifying herself by finding her spiritual center.

After the fairly recent incident in the training room with Keelen, Astrid was now dedicating herself to learning and practicing the art of self control. Her emotions ran deep, and most of them were filled with pain. But unless she controlled that pain when it surfaced and intermingled with her latent Force potential, she’d not only destroy her enemies, but also herself.

The biggest part of her focus in the act of her moving meditation was to meld with the flow of her spirit into the cosmic river of the galaxy. She was a speck in the sky, nothing more than a solitary light amongst many. But even without the Force being injected into the equation, centering her mind to the resignation that fate happened to everyone, calmed her immeasurably. Life was no longer about Astrid Blackspyre as she rotated carefully on the single foot planted on the deck. Her ankle pivoted and turned her body around as the knee of her extended leg creased and turned the kick into a slow hook before dropping lightly to the floor again.

It was a martial dance, full of elegant movement and open palmed motions that always made Astrid feel like she was molding water or silk.

But the tranquility was interrupted as Keelen’s voice filled her left ear through the identical comlink she wore in reference to his own.

A pang of icy fear sprang into her stomach at the tone in his voice. But that fear was immediately sucked into the gravity well of her centered self, and distributed instead to action. She reached up and touched the comlink to activate the transmitter and responded in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.

“Yes Master, on my way.”

She looked over at Lord Zarene in their shared quarters and nodded to her senior, speaking quickly in Epicant even as she rushed for the door.

“<<We’ve got trouble my Lord. Heading to the guns!>>”

Her booted feet clomped rapidly along the grated floor of their ship and she found herself in the center of the vessel, waiting briefly as Imago’s legs disappeared up the tube to the dorsal gun. Astrid placed her left hand on the rail of the ladder but was pushed back slightly as the inertial dampeners failed to keep up momentarily as Keelen gunned the engines. The slight dizziness of vertigo assaulted Astrid’s body and sent a shot of adrenaline through her veins in excitement and elicited a quiet “Oooh” from her lips. She’d been right, the NZT-331 was fast….

She was far from a ship guru herself, and had no idea how to pilot a ship at all. But she knew ships in general. She knew their designations and models and classes because as a woman of Panatha, Astrid found the lines of ships aesthetically pleasing.

She liked learning about ships because they were pretty. Plain and simple.

But her senses kicked back in an instant later and she swung back around, first planting a boot on the ladder rung, but kicking off again as her body connected and her grip stiffened. The Sith apprentice placed her feet on the outside of the rungs and loosened her grip, allowing her to slide down quickly. As soon as her heels hit the floor below, Astrid spun around and plopped into the gunner chair.

“Switching to ship coms.” She announced to her comlink as she plucked it from her ear and replaced it with the headset that linked her in to the rest of the ship. “Online.” She confirmed.

The blackness of space seemed to rush around her as the shapes outside streamed toward them. Astrid quickly oriented herself with the controls to test the movement sensitivity and targeting screen. Already she could see red lances of energy streaming behind them and felt the staccato of firing cannon’s through the tunnel above her where Imago opened fire.

The courier ship was indeed fast. And they were slowly out-distancing their pursuit, but that posed its own problems.

“Master, if we outrun these pursuers, we are going to have to deal with them in atmosphere where we are more vulnerable. I recommend we slow down a fraction and bring them in closer so we can deal with them out here where we can maneuver better.”

She was very fortunate to have Keelen as a master, she knew. Other Sith would bark at her to do as they were told in combat. But Keelen was a tactician, and a sound tactician knew the value of input from subordinates. She knew her mentor was a master at maneuvering ships on a battlefield while on the bridge of a destroyer where he could see all of the information before him. But Keelen was far from a fighter ace and would likely be focusing everything on moving, rather than where he was or who was around them.

Astrid’s suggestion was rewarded with a clipped acknowledgement from her headset and a slight deceleration of the NZT-331. Then, and only then, did Astrid open fire.

She was a fighter at her very core, and every form of combat was an interest to her. But she was far from a crack shot, and it didn’t take long for a bad habit of hers to show itself. Her tongue wedged between her lips and slightly to the side as she made minute adjustments to her gunnery controls, trying to zero on her target. Her eyes screwed up in concentration and her foot began to tap impatiently as her shots continued to miss.

“C’monnnn… c’monnnnnnn.” She muttered to herself.

And it was in the midst of that combat as fire began to return to their ship, that Astrid had to mentally smack herself in the forehead. She was so unused to using the Force at this point for anything, that she always surprised herself when she remembered she had that extra sense to tap.

She let her eyes unconsciously track the movement of the enemy ship closest to her as she quietly melded her recently focused center with the Force. A calmness came over her and her tongue receded back into her mouth, then her foot stopped tapping at the same time as her eyes relaxed.

Before her, the pursuit ship she was concentrating on, danced and weaved around lances of light. The image of said ship began to shift and blur out from itself, superimposing a dozen images of itself in a hazy red outline to her eyes. It was like sparing with Keelen in the training room. She was reading the possible outcomes of potential maneuvers the pilot could use. But with Keelen it had been one or two possibilities, with the enemy pilot it was twelve and growing.

Annnnnd that would be the hive mind…. She thought to herself. Had she been wrong to advise reeling the enemies in? It was to no one’s benefit except the pursuers if she couldn’t shoot them. Despair began to grip her.

But again, Astrid met despair with control and the negative emotion ricocheted around her body as it met her center like opposing magnets bouncing away from each other. Despair had no place in combat unless it pushed you to fight harder. Right now she didn’t need adrenaline, she needed focus.

Focus…. She commanded herself.

And so she did. The red ships in her eyes began to decrease in number, but still held true at a steady twelve, far more than she could account for as a gunner. But she began to see a pattern as she fired. While there were twelve images to compete with, there was a split second of change when the decision to move was made. That image led away slightly from the others, and it was reactionary to shots coming at them.

Astrid smirked as the plan developed in her mind.

She aimed at the bottom left image and fired twice, then immediately shifted her reticle to the opposing top right as the shots forced a reaction.

“Dodge this…” she said huskily over her headset, forgetting she was still broadcasting.

Her thumbs held down the trigger buttons on her controls and led the ship right into her fire. The red energy from her shots peppered the enemy ship from bow to stern and eventually hit a critical spot on their sublight engine, causing an explosion that quickly took the whole ship in a brief ball of fire that almost immediately snuffed out in the powerful vacuum of space.

This time, Astrid remembered to silence her com as she kicked wildly and punched at the air in exuberance.

Awwwwww yeaaaaahhh!! Suck on that you creepy bug made sum bitch! I got you, you bastard! How’s that feel?! Huhhhhh?! Oh wait, you’re dead! Chaa! Eat it! Wooooooo!!!

But the moment passed quickly and Astrid composed herself. She tucked her hair back behind her ears and flicked her coms back on, the very picture of control now.

“Tango down. His partner is all yours Imago, he’s above my firing arc.”

Somewhere deep, deep within Astrid Blackspyre, there was a small child representation of Astrid who was orbiting the gravity well of her control, circling that event horizon while pumping her fist and elbow and kicking the air in triumph.

[sparrow]

Once used exclusively by the wookiees of Kashyyyk, the bowcaster was a curious weapon. In recent years, various arms manufacturers had begun mass producing versions usable by non-wookiee beings, although they never saw widespread use. Needing to be manually drawn back after every shot, most found the weapon to be cumbersome with insufficient rate of fire, with the sheer power of each shot, even reduced in comparison to the authentic wookiee models, to be overkill for most applications.

But if there was ever a need for sheer power per shot, now was it, Zarene thought to herself as she gave the knob a final twist. The draw-assist mechanisms on these thing were always a bit finicky, and required a bit of manual calibration to get the draw just right. Satisfied, she placed the weapon onto the small workbench in the corner of the shared cabin, next to her trusty pair of blaster pistols.

She felt the ship shift slightly as it came out of hyperspace. A sudden acceleration, and Astrid darted off quickly, muttering something about trouble. With both turrets occupied, Zarene could only watch from the ship viewports as the pursuing fighters approached. At first glance they appeared to be of Hutt design, but were somehow… different,... warped. Wrong.

But there was no time to dwell on such thoughts as the fighters opened fire, the ship’s shields straining as a number of the shots struck true. From the turrets, Astrid and Imago returned fire, managing to hit one of the pursuers, which exploded in a ball of flame. Not bad…

A volley of missiles screeched as they cut through the air of the planet’s upper atmosphere, moments before the second fighter was taken down. The turrets continued their fire, but were hard-pressed to hit such small targets. Even with their ship’s speed, slowly they gained.

She may not have been in the pilot’s seat, or at one of the turrets, but Zarene was not going to let herself be helpless. Focusing on the Force, she could feel how the air parted around each of the missiles. She wasn’t going to be able to completely redirect their paths. The speed and force at which they moved made such a feat impossible to perform in time, even for her. But if she could nudge the trajectory of one of them, by just a few degrees…. The shockwave from the resulting explosion threw her backwards, back slamming into the far wall of the room. The ship, safe for now, continued on.

They landed on what appeared to be a dilapidated landing pad. Securing her helmet and rebreather, Zarene stepped cautiously outside. The air was filled with a purplish haze, severely limiting visibility. She could barely make out several dark shapes moving in the distance, with an unnatural, shuffling gait. Cocking a quarrel into the bowcaster, she raised the weapon, ready to fire.

[Neology]

Rabbit sparrow tenkalus Imago swore, pressed into his seat as the ship lurched and dived. Slow down? Do that and they’d swiftly be overrun. Two fighters multiplied into many in his mind’s eye, a swarm backed by a terrible pressure felt anytime he looked outside his own head. Soon, there would be more than they could deal with. No matter how skilled their gunners. ”I’d advise against, pilot.” Imago spoke carefully, mindful that he could not technically order Keelen to do anything. The favor of the Empress afforded him great privilege, not great power. A pity it was not both. A squeeze on the trigger mechanism raked the second fighter with bolts; it shed pieces and fell behind. Something seemed to strike the NZT-331 in turn, rattling Imago in the gunner’s cradle. Sky and fire partially blinded him as the courier ship cut through Teth’s atmosphere. The second fighter tried to follow and broke apart. He watched his screen for a long moment, then struggled free of seat and harness, falling back down the ladder. The armor absorbed most of the impact. Imago grinned; despite the risk, there was something deeply bad ass about powered armor. He’d never been worth the exorbitant cost, before. Retrieving the rest of his gear from the bridge, Imago jammed on his helmet and followed Sagitta out, nearly on her heels. The backpack of gear, including the mission vital sample containment devices, were rendered mercifully tolerable by the armor. They seemed to have put down past the outskirts of Inner Teth, an old outpost perhaps. A low building crouched on a spur of rock, hunkered down against the jungle and bristling with technologically obsolete antenna. The little courier ship dug its struts deep into the battered pavement, metaphorically besieged on all sides. And literally, from the front. It was hard to make out by what through the foggy air. Something beyond industrial haze, scattering the weak sunlight. No friends of theirs even before the terrible invasion of monsters from wild space. The engines were still hot – Imago spun a twisting whip of plasma and flung it foe-ward. It wrapped around the creature, silhouetted and strange in the fog save for the line of fire. Long spiny limbs twitched wildly, one bisected and smoldering. Notably, it did not scream at first. Then rose a terrible sound through the Force, fizzling Imago’s concentration until the burning whip dissolved into a sheet of fire. ”You guys hear that too?” Muttering through grit teeth, he lurched forward with his lightsaber to put the alien out of its screeching misery.

[sparrow]

The scream of the creature split the air, like a hundred claws scraping across metal, nearly causing Zarene to drop her weapon as she instinctively tried to cover her ears with a free hand. Imago leapt forward, blade slashing at the creature’s chitinous body as its spiked arms continued flailing. Quickly Zarene raised her weapon and fired, the green bolt of energy striking the creature directly in what seemed to be its face. The resulting impact caused its body to be flung backwards, the point of impact exploding in a shower of pieces of broken chitin and goopy innards. The other shapes in the fog appeared to draw back momentarily, as if observing the Sith warily

“Tough buggers…” Zarene muttered as she began turning the crank on the side of the bowcaster to load another quarrel into place. Even as the creature died, she could still feel the echoes of the scream in her head. An aura of unease seemed to hang in the air along with the fog, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She was no stranger to the Dark Side of the Force and it’s poison, but even compared to the aura of Korriban, this was different, more twisted and bizarre, if such a thing were possible.

“The specimens we’re looking for are supposed to be more concentrated near the center of the city, so we should start heading that way.” There’ll be more of those… things there too, she thought. Let’s just do this quickly and get this over with.

As if on cue, the sound of clawed limbs skittering across the ground could be heard below them. Intruders! A hissing, gravelly voice that was not her own echoed through her head. Your presence here is an affront to the chorus. But you will be made to join. Harmony will be restored.... More dark shapes rose from behind the ship, climbing up the rocky spur on which they had landed, advancing slowly, as if to push the four Sith towards the city and waiting death.

[tenkalus]

Astrid felt the light bump of the ship settling in on it’s landing struts. She sat in the gunner chair for just an extra moment, gathering herself for what was to come. That and the fact that Imago was climbing down the ladder above her meant she had to wait anyway.

“Switching back to personal comms.” She stated to the ship-wide broadcast. She wondered if this was how soldiers acted in combat. That was to say, quietly. Zarene had naught but barely acknowledged her when Astrid offered information and Imago seemed content with saying nothing outside of contradicting her own suggestions. Which, to be fair, was in fact his prerogative as her senior. Astrid knew combat theory, but had been in few actual large scale battles herself, and so at any time, experience trumped her working knowledge.

Still, she felt a bit like the odd man out. She and Keelen were a team, but they were not currently working with one. It was a group of individuals simply driven to complete a mission. Was this what the Cult of Strife was like? There was no camaraderie present here. Not even a professional courtesy or the detached discipline of clipped and informative communication to enhance combat awareness throughout.

At least she had Keelen… because everyone else felt cold to her. He’d always given clear lines of communication and told her what was expected of her in any situation. With these other two, she felt a bit lost.

These thoughts and more were pushed to the back of her mind as her turn to ascend the ladder came. Her head was only just cresting the opening to the main deck when Zarene went running by. Guess it was time to initiate mission start. Thing was, she had been taught to go prepared, and Astrid had not snatched up her mission kit before heading to the gun well.

So instead of following after Zarene and Imago, when Astrid’s boots hit the deck she rushed off back to their quarters and snatched up her bag and lightsaber. The bag, she threw around her shoulders and cinched the straps to tighten it high against her back to restrict movement. And the lightsaber she attached horizontally against the small of her back. It was the preferred method of transporting the weapon for her, as the double bladed hilt was simply too long and intrusive if hanging from the hip while in combat. If you ran, it would just flop around and bludgeon you.

When she was secured, she jogged back to the exit ramp and promptly had to catch herself from pitching forward as he head was filled with a screeching scream of agony. Like Zarene in front of her, Astrid’s first instinct was to clap her hands over her ears. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut hard and shoved her shoulder into the jamb of the door to keep from tumbling out. But it wasn’t a physical sound that was in her ears. It was in her head.

That scream had come through the Force.

Imago said something but her brain was still muddled from the psychic trauma so she didn’t catch it. Whatever the enemy was, they needed to make sure to end them quickly and efficiently. To that end, Astrid righted herself and stepped out on the ramp, only to stop in her tracks again when she saw the fog and heard the skittering of legs rushing towards them. This place just felt… wrong.

Yup. Nnnnnnnnnnnope. All of the nope. She thought to herself as she took no chances and yanked her mask down off of her head. The bracket it was on snapped downward with an audible click and positioned the black mask directly over Astrid’s face, then it closed the half inch gap between its edge and her flesh and sealed. The seal had to cycle the air within it and so for just an instant, Astrid had no oxygen at all. But the cycle was quick and as she set herself on the ramp, twin jets of compressed air spritzed from the release mechanism, looking as if she’d just snorted out steam like a raging beast.

Then Astrid watched as Zarene blew one of the enemies apart with her bowcaster and the briefing sprung to her mind about how these creatures carried spores that could infect people. She realized that the corpse probably wasn’t close enough to do that very thing, which was the benefit of ranged weapons. Weapons Astrid did not possess. But still, a stray breeze could change that airborne dynamic and Astrid was suddenly very happy she’d decided to bring the mask.

“The specimens we’re looking for are supposed to be more concentrated near the center of the city, so we should start heading that way.”

Astrid agreed wholeheartedly. She didn’t want to stick around long, but she would follow protocol. And right then protocol was to do whatever the hell Master Keelen said. Problem was, if all four of them went in to secure the objective, it meant leaving their ship undefended. Given the state of the vessels that they had just turned to space slag, that didn’t seem like a very good idea.

The idea both excited and frightened her. It could be a moment to prove herself worthy of Keelen. If she stayed behind, she’d either be strong and smart enough to survive, and make sure that the others had a ride out, or she’d die.

“Master, with your permission I’ll volunteer to guard our escape vector. I don’t think leaving our ship undefended here is wise.” She called out.

Then a voice clawed its way into her mind from unseen sources, Intruders! Your presence here is an affront to the chorus. But you will be made to join. Harmony will be restored…

Astrid saw a shape emerging from behind Imago and noticed he hadn’t seen it. She hopped down to the ground and charged. By the time the enemy had gotten close enough to attack her senior companion, Astrid was already halfway through a windup.

“Harmonize THIS!!” she growled as she sunk her armored knuckles into the creature’s side, between the too-many arms it had, with enough follow through in her shoulder that she was looking at the ground for a moment and had to cock her leg back into the air behind her to keep balance.

The blow launched the creature well off its feet and sent it soaring into another of its kin eight feet away. Astrid had been physically strong before, given her tenure of manual labor as a slave. But now that she was getting a more solid grasp on the Force, she was starting to use it instinctively to strengthen her blows beyond normal capacity.

When her feet were back under her, she turned her back to Imago’s to watch his six. She wasn’t sure if a lightsaber would cauterize wounds of these creatures with enough efficiency to stop spores from spreading, so until she heard otherwise, she was going hand to hand.

[Neology]

Rabbit sparrow tenkalus ”I really don’t think …” Imago trailed off, hissing through his teeth as the Chorus dug deeper into his mind, found speech or what passed for it. Galactic Basic or Epicant or something more primitive still, the meaning was clear enough. His venom-green saber dipped down and through, followed by a bolt from Sagitta’s bowcaster, cutting off one voice of many. It brought no relief; if anything the aggregate presence increased, a distant hand reaching out to ... He snapped his saber off, shrugging one shoulder in vague assent. It would be best not to dawdle and even a cursory glance at the burst and smoldering corpse by his feet suggested that they’d gather nothing useful here. ”As you like, Blackspyre – or, more correctly – as your Master likes. But there must be other ships on this rock, and few enough that need them now.” Imago spoke lightly, conversationally, swallowing the end of that comment. Before you get yourself killed for this one. Though it is a nice ship. The mission came first, then their individual lives, he supposed. Then the equipment. He pressed onward, aware of further shapes in the fog, a looming half-circle on their flanks. The Archeri kept their distance, shadowing their little team’s progress. Corralling them, perhaps. Spooky. After many minutes of tromping through the brush, then a dusty dry wash, they came to a rent skyway bridge. It soared over the jungle’s edge, disappearing in either direction. Rebar and pavement and steel cables made a makeshift lattice, frosted over in patches with hairy white fungus. ”You’ll catch me if I slip, right?” Imago jerked his chin at Lord Sagitta, rather the extent of facial communication through the matte black helmet visor. Grinning beneath, he got a running start and began to scrabble up the wreckage. The task soon lost its charm and the knight was breathing heavily by the summit. A violet tinged spine of dark glassy stone had been the skybridge’s ruin, perhaps a match for the strange structures they’d seen in orbit. It flickered with a malevolent light as Imago studied it, waiting for the others to make their way up. Inner Teth lay beyond, dark or burnt out and smoking in places. ”Think we should get a piece of this, too?” Imago unclasped his pack, retrieving a sample container. While crouched, he had a unique new perspective on the fungal carpet. His boots left greasy black footprints. Experimentally, he ignited a dab on the back of his gauntlet. It burned like oil, or fat, producing a thick rancid smoke. ”Oh, that’s disgusting.”

[Rabbit]

Keelen's skin began to crawl long before they landed; by the time they had, he was more than ready to pull his sabers out and start carving his way through whatever lay beyond the NZT-331's hull. The landing went far more smoothly than he had anticipated (though, far more rocky than he would have liked); the second the ship's struts had locked into firm ground, the Chiss was moving. It took him mere moments to grab the pack that he had stowed behind the pilot's seat, and pull out the modified helmet that served double-duty as a protection against blows to his head and as an air filtration unit. The high collar of his fatigues hid a locking mechanism that sealed the helmet securely to his body, so that (hopefully) none of the spores he'd read about could infiltrate. He was securing the wrists of his fatigues into full-fingered gloves when he first heard the voices - they hissed and slithered into his mind, followed by a shiver down Keelen's spine that shook him to his core.

Intruders...Your presence here is an affront to the chorus...

"Your presence here is an affront to me," the Praetor snarled under his breath in Cheunh.

He finished putting on his gloves and strapping the wrists down tight. Then, without further ado, the Chiss slid his arms through the straps of his pack and checked the atmospheric feeds on the ship's console one last time. The computers were going haywire and told him absolutely nothing; Keelen frowned faintly, shook his head once in a mixture of disgust and frustration, and then moved swiftly out of the cockpit and through the length of the ship toward the ship's primary point of entry.

It seemed he was a bit late to the party - Lords Sagitta and Imago had taken down one together, and Astrid had sent one of the chitinous Acheri soaring several feet into another one that had been fast approaching their location. Keelen found his lip curling in disgust as he stepped over one of the foul bodies - the one Sagitta and Imago had killed, he assumed, based on the hole through it and the very distinctive lightsaber cut that gauged a smoking line diagonally across the creature's torso. His features smoothed out, though, as he drew abreast of his apprentice and he placed a hand briefly on her shoulder.

"No, Apprentice," he replied simply. "We need your strength."

He thoughtfully eyed the skittering shapes in the gloomy distance - the Acheri were closing in on the ship and fast. Keelen stepped away from Astrid, but not before squeezing her shoulder gently in silent encouragement.

"There will be plenty of opportunities for you to prove yourself today," he continued dryly, as he waited for her to turn and follow him in suite. "And Lord Imago is right," red eyes flickered toward the ship; the Praetor began following Imago toward what he assumed was the Inner City. "The Force will show us another way off of this cursed planet."

Keelen was quiet for a few minutes as they stalked their way through the dry and utterly wasted terrain. As a skybridge came in sight, the Chiss looked at his apprentice out of the corner of his eye and added in Sy Bisti -

"Were this an ordinary mission, against a known - or at least familiar - enemy, I would have encouraged your offer to stay behind and protect the ship. I know you are eager to prove your worth for ascension and you know that I encourage your ambition to do so. However," he jerked his chin toward the eerily purple-tinted landscape that stretched out around them on all sides. "This is something the galaxy has never seen - to my knowledge, not even my people have record of such invaders. From a military standpoint, the success of this mission hinges entirely on teamwork, not individual heroics."

They stopped at the foot of the large pile of fungus-covered wreckage that had once been a skybridge. Keelen imparted a final opinion, as he watched Imago scramble up; this time, he spoke just as quietly as before, but now in Basic.

"We are the first official contact for the Empire, against this threat. We should take note of everything our enemy shows us. Observation and knowledge are the keys to strategy. And only when strategy is in place, should we rely on our power."

His teaching concluded, Keelen started the arduous climb up the mangled rebar, melted slag, and twisted wreckage. He wasn't exactly out of breath when he stopped and perched on a fairly solid piece of duracrete that was just to one side of Imago, but his broad chest was heaving with exertion all the same. The Chiss watched as Imago experimentally poked at the tarry fungus residue, and silently agreed with the other Sith's pithy conclusion.

The entire Archeri-infested planet was disgusting, so far as Keelen was concerned. He couldn't recall a single time he had been more revolted in his life - which was saying something, since he'd been a Hutt-owned sex slave at one all-too memorable point.

"Are you asking if we should collect a sample of the...fungus," Keelen asked for clarification as his red gaze slid from the latticework beneath their feet, to the dark purple crystal jutting up out of the apex of the skybridge's mangled remains. "Or if we should try to collect a piece of this crystal?"

The Chiss turned to examine the spire - the malevolence of it rolled off in waves, and even as a Dark Sider, Keelen felt his stomach tighten uncomfortably at the weird, alien energy that seemed to pulse outward from it. It wasn't as vile as the fungus that sizzled and stank beneath Imago's curious gloved fingertip, but something told Keelen the crystal was far more dangerous.

A skittering sound from the wreckage beneath their feet made the Chiss' head snap down to consider his boots. He pursed his lips, and glanced up and over at Imago.

"It would appear we're about to have further unwanted visitors. And while fighting from the high ground is usually sound tactics," the Chiss wryly motioned to the precarious nature of their current position with a wave of his gloved hand. "This is not exactly an ideal terrain for combat. I'm sure," his lips twisted in a grim caricature of a smile. "We will find more of this...repulsive fauna and accompanying geological features...in Inner Teth and closer to our mark."

Keelen could feel the scurrying Archeri beneath their collective feet approaching swiftly. A quick scan through the Force revealed that there were others nearby and closing in on the skybridge, but the one directly beneath him was the only one that had made it as far as it had. Unfortunately...opening himself up to the Force just long enough to determine the progress of his enemy had a horrifying effect. A thousand voices screamed through his head, one in particular louder by virtue of proximity.

Join the Chorus! Join us in purifying this galaxy! Join us!

Keelen hissed through his teeth, a sound that was almost reptilian in quality, as he drew both his lightsabers and squatted swiftly down. Despite the echoing cacophony howling to overtake his mind, he made sure not to place a knee on the putrid fungus; instead, he balanced himself on the balls of his feet, legs bent, as he plunged both of his sabers down through the piled detritus that provided them all with purchase and the Archeri with cover. One voice screeched and then abruptly ended; for a moment, there was relief, but then a thousand more screamed with a rage Keelen had never encountered before.

Sweat beaded across his cerulean brow and his eyes were narrowed into slits. The Chiss' chest heaved as if he'd just engaged the Archeri in a hand-to-hand duel to the death, but it was the voices screaming in his head that affected him so strongly. No amount of meditation or research could have prepared him for the reality that assaulted him, seemingly on all sides. It was only sheer force of will that made it possible for Keelen to mute the worst of it - just enough for his desire to fight and resist to take center stage. And movement, more than anything, seemed to help keep the damn "Chorus" at bay.

"Let's go," he gritted through clenched teeth as he stood up.

[tenkalus]

Astrid didn't argue with her master. At the very least, she knew he understood. Part of it was wanting to prove herself, certainly. But mostly she wanted to make sure she had a day in the future to actually do that. Leaving the ship behind wasn't high on her list of things to try often, but Keelen knew best. He was older, wiser, and more experienced in general.

"Yes Master." She said without hesitation. She'd even gotten a compliment!

So it was, she followed along with the group, trying to make sure it was not obvious that the creatures they fought, made her skin crawl. She stayed close to Keelen, since maybe he would actually appreciate having his back covered. It wasn't even that she expected a thank you from Imago, but maybe some kind of acknowledgement that she'd taken two enemies off his back would have been nice. Perhaps a nod of appreciation for standing back to back with him.

As they progressed, Astrid did as she was bidden. She paid attention to the enemy. She watched how they moved, how they engaged, if they flanked or attacked head on, and their mannerisms for each maneuver. She would learn them before the mission was over. She vowed to report something of worth to her master. She would remain worthy of his praise.

[sparrow]

Joining her fellow Sith onto the top of the sky bridge, Zarene looked down at the Archeri below them, as Keelen stabbed the fungal growth they stood on, slaying one of the creatures beneath it. The rest seemed content to watch from a distance, skittering about, always observing, always probing.

They could swarm us if they wanted to, Zarene thought. But they weren’t. The bulk of the Archeri continued to keep their distance, shadowing their movements, but never attacking in force. No swarming. None of the thrown spikes she had observed in Sebban’s holovid. Even the one that Astrid had hit earlier simply retreated instead of counterattacking with its multitude of spiked limbs. They’re holding back.

And all the while, the cacophony that echoed through the Force continued unabated, an unrelenting assault on the senses. The longer we stay here, the bigger our disadvantage. Even if I could tune out most of this noise, any distraction during the heat of combat, any lapse in concentration, can spell doom.

They want us in the city.

But our primary objective is there, so regardless of what they want, that is where we must go.

“I agree with Invictus in this,” she said finally, in response to Imago’s query. “If you want a sample, take it quick. The longer we stay here, the greater the risk. We could take a stand and kill a hundred of them at this spot, but we would no closer to completing the mission.” She moved forward, balancing on the exposed metal beams of the sky bridge, towards the ruined buildings marking the edge of the city in the opposite side.

[Neology]

Rabbit sparrow tenkalus ”That weird rock thing. This fuzzy stuff seems to be everywhere.” And also very flammable, the pyrokineticist was pleased to note. Despite his suspicions regarding the … Fuel? Fertilizer’s? Source. Imago put out the smoldering grease with a wave of his hand and glanced up at his companions, disbelief flashing behind his visor for half a moment. Better sense shuttered his expression at once, but he was glad of the helmet just the same. ”Then by all means, I will hurry. Keep a weather eye out if it pleases you. My lords.” Fair terrain or not, it seemed the sweetest opportunity that they might have. Imago stepped into the violet pillar’s shadow. The aliens, strangely, kept their vigil, filling his mind with their chorusing incitements. Not for the first time, Imago was glad for his own sort of dullness when it came to those elements of the Force dealing with the mind. It seemed to be making at least one of his companions very uncomfortable. Visually, the alien material was dark and glassy like obsidian. Cracks – from impact? - rose whiter portions. A likely place to start, he decided, dwelling over not-even-half remembered school science lessons for a hesitant minute. Perhaps this was a waste indeed? Beautiful stones were often compositionally very boring: just look at diamonds. Then, Imago drew a knife from his belt and waved over the sample container. A surge of violet light flashed over and subsumed Imago’s senses. The knife skittered wildly across the alien stone. A vast presence considered him in the darkness, a flaying whirlwind within the Force. Á̘͉̉h̫̜̓̂ … Ý̗̙̝̫̱͐̄̚͞ó͎̥͡ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜ á̘͉̉ṙ̻e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ l͈̯̾̀ĭ̢̜͝k̢͖̠̠͑͗͝͞e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ t͙́h̫̜̓̂e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ ó͎̥͡t͙́h̫̜̓̂e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ṙ̻s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒, t͙́h̫̜̓̂e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ m̬̟̑͗á̘͉̉ṙ̻k̢͖̠̠͑͗͝͞e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟d͇̹͎͖́͐̀͠ ó͎̥͡n͕̰̳̏͝͡e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ á̘͉̉n͕̰̳̏͝͡d͇̹͎͖́͐̀͠ t͙́h̫̜̓̂e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡h̫̜̓̂ĭ̢̜͝t͙́e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ ó͎̥͡n͕̰̳̏͝͡e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟. W̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ k̢͖̠̠͑͗͝͞n͕̰̳̏͝͡e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ t͙́h̫̜̓̂e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ṙ̻e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ó͎̥͡ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜l͈̯̾̀d͇̹͎͖́͐̀͠ b̞͚̳̗̳̅͒̅̅̚e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ m̬̟̑͗ó͎̥͡ṙ̻e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟. Ý̗̙̝̫̱͐̄̚͞ó͎̥͡ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡á̘͉̉s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒t͙́e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ t͙́h̫̜̓̂e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ g̥̤͌̈ĭ̢̜͝f̝͓͇̰̋͋̂͝t͙́ ó͎̥͡f̝͓͇̰̋͋̂͝ m̬̟̑͗ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒ĭ̢̜͝c̖̩̮̔̾͐́ͅ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ĭ̢̜͝t͙́h̫̜̓̂ d͇̹͎͖́͐̀͠ĭ̢̜͝s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒h̫̜̓̂á̘͉̉ṙ̻m̬̟̑͗ó͎̥͡n͕̰̳̏͝͡ý̗̙̝̫̱͐̄̚͞. A pause, an invasive browsing. Imago stood rooted. W̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ó͎̥͡ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜l͈̯̾̀d͇̹͎͖́͐̀͠ s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ t͙́h̫̜̓̂ĭ̢̜͝s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒ ... E͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟m̬̟̑͗p̠͖̠̈́͋ĭ̢̜͝ṙ̻e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟. Ý̗̙̝̫̱͐̄̚͞ó͎̥͡ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜ á̘͉̉n͕̰̳̏͝͡d͇̹͎͖́͐̀͠ t͙́h̫̜̓̂e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ĭ̢̜͝l͈̯̾̀l͈̯̾̀ c̖̩̮̔̾͐́ͅá̘͉̉ṙ̻ṙ̻ý̗̙̝̫̱͐̄̚͞ Ó͎̥͡ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜ṙ̻ s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒ó͎̥͡n͕̰̳̏͝͡g̥̤͌̈ f̝͓͇̰̋͋̂͝ṙ̻ó͎̥͡m̬̟̑͗ t͙́h̫̜̓̂ĭ̢̜͝s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒ s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒l͈̯̾̀ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜g̥̤͌̈-ṙ̻ó͎̥͡c̖̩̮̔̾͐́ͅk̢͖̠̠͑͗͝͞. W̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ĭ̢̜͝l͈̯̾̀l͈̯̾̀ l͈̯̾̀e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟t͙́ ý̗̙̝̫̱͐̄̚͞ó͎̥͡ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜ d͇̹͎͖́͐̀͠ó͎̥͡ ĭ̢̜͝t͙́, b̞͚̳̗̳̅͒̅̅̚ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜t͙́ ĭ̢̜͝t͙́ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ĭ̢̜͝l͈̯̾̀l͈̯̾̀ n͕̰̳̏͝͡ó͎̥͡t͙́ b̞͚̳̗̳̅͒̅̅̚e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟á̘͉̉s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒ý̗̙̝̫̱͐̄̚͞. T͙́h̫̜̓̂á̘͉̉t͙́ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ó͎̥͡ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜l͈̯̾̀d͇̹͎͖́͐̀͠ n͕̰̳̏͝͡ó͎̥͡t͙́ b̞͚̳̗̳̅͒̅̅̚e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ S͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒ĭ̢̜͝t͙́h̫̜̓̂, w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ó͎̥͡ụ̩̪̇͆͑́͜l͈̯̾̀d͇̹͎͖́͐̀͠ ĭ̢̜͝t͙́? Dismissal was complete, deafening in its silence. Imago’s consciousness drifted back up from wherever it had fled – his boots, he suspected. Panting, he took his knife to the crystal again. Prying with all his strength, he wrenched off a sizable chunk and locked it away inside the sample container. ”Okay.” His voice sounded weak and shaky to his own ears. Never a good thing, in such company. ”Now we’re good.” Cupping his armored elbows as if cold, Imago stumbled toward an off ramp. A low, hostile susurrus rose from the dark city.