Vartia Stands

[apothecary]

 Those who had made the noble decision to accept the Vartian Republic's invitation to visit their homeworld, they arrived in system aboard the Battle Cruiser Imperative. The Vartians uncharacteristically had placed a considerable amount of effort in ensuring their guests were comfortable and well cared for, with food suitable for their species rather than the protein pastes and gels preferred by the Vartians themselves. The journey was almost at it's end and as the ship entered high orbit, the VIPs along with a handful of Vartian soldiers serving as an honour guard bordered a gunship to transport them to the surface of Vartia. 

Vartia itself was an ash grey ball, a battered planet, bloodied and scarred by terrible wars, most of the damaging having been done long before the Vartians themselves were ever even created. It's seas were a toxic neon blue, polluted by all manner of toxins, pollutants, chemical, biological and radiation... In orbit were dozens of stations, orbital shipyards, defensive platforms as well as hundreds of ships, these ranged from small transport ships and picket vessels all the way to Vartian Dreadnoughts which hung over the planet like vengeful gods. 

The gunship as it entered the planet's atmosphere was escorted down by a pair of interceptors who flew protectively near the craft like paranoid parent birds. As they arrived on the planet's night cycle, there was little to see out of the ship's observation ports, until they neared Bunker Complex 001, the Vartian Capital and home to the Bunker of Parliament. Lights flickered into life, revealing a large black maw as hanger doors slid slowly open, allowing the gunship to lower itself down into one of the vast underground hangers. The doors sealed themselves and for the moment, the ship descended down a long dark abyss... Then there were lights as they emerged into the hanger. 
Hundreds of fighters, interceptors, gunships and bombers hugged the walls and ceilings, everywhere there were Vartians. Soldiers marched in formation, ground crew worked to service and prepare craft, banners hung from concrete and steel walls. It was more akin to a hive than a bunker, or the lair of some monstrous beast. 

The gunship settled herself on a landing pad, engines whining down as ground crew raced into action, preparing to service the craft. After a brief pause to allow the VIPs to collect their belongings, the ramp to the gunship would lower allowing the occupants to escape from it's confines and the noise to flood in. 

...


"Captain Bannei please report to the Ministry for Deployment, Captain Bannei report immediately." A voice crackled from the speakers. "All Vartians are reminded that we have guests on our world, please ensure they are kept safe at all times. If you see these guests do not let them outside without confirmation from your immediate superior. This is for their own safety." The voice disappeared to be replaced by a triumphal march, the Ballad of the Victorious Republic. As the VIPs descended the ramp, a sudden hush would fall over the hanger, Vartians everywhere halting, a heavy oppressive silence. The only noise came from the blaring music and the noise of whining aircraft engines. 

Slowly a Vartian approached the VIPs, snapping off a military salute to them. "I'm Major Yana Talanskia." She said introducing herself to them. "It is my duty to take you to see the Prime Soldier, your belongings will be taken to your barrack block." None of the Vartians wore their distinctive gasmasks. A sea of red hair, ghostly pale faces and violet eyes stared at the VIPs. "It is also my duty to answer any questions you may have in regards to the nature of your visit, such a dietary requirements, personal needs... I will inform you now that no outside communication is allowed. You are not allowed to visit our Cloning Banks nor explore the surface without a Vartian security team and permission from the General Minister for Diplomatic Visits." She smiled as if this was a normal event for her. "Are there any questions? Or shall we depart?" 

Almost furtively, the Vartians began to return to their duties and tasks. A troop of recruits, no more that fifteen year of age jogged past. A instructor leading from the front in full kit, the recruits, carrying only their carbines. "What is your duty?" The instructor barked, the recruits in unison yelled breathlessly. "To serve the Vartian Republic's will!" The Major turned to watch the display as the soldiers headed by, the instructor barked out. "What is the Vartian Republic's will?"
"That we fight and die!"
"What is death?"
"It is our duty!"
"What is duty?"
"To serve the Vartian Republic's will!"

At the back of the group, two Vartian recruits were supporting a third who must have twisted her ankle or something as she was not placing any weight on it. Yet, despite the pain on her face she did not cry out or complain, but endured with her comrades. The Vartians were a species of soldiers, they knew no alternative to waging war. Other species had that option, but the Vartian mind controlled as it was, filtered by the Kran Val directed them down a set path. Perhaps the worst part was that they saw nothing wrong with it, they did not realise that their society happened to be the perverse nightmare it actually happened to be. Yana turned to the VIPs. "Impressive are they not? I was the top markswoman during my training." She declared with pride as if training their young to fight happened to be as natural as breathing. 

 

[sithlover]

Jex enjoyed a hearty meal of a large Ronto wrap with a sort of blue jello-like dessert, with blue milk as a drink. He had paid no attention to the scenery as they landed, Jex had only cared about the delicious meal he was served. After finishing, Jex sauntered out with what little belongings he had and immediately noticed the music. He found it annoying and wished it would stop. When Major Yana approached he barely listened to her, but tuned in just in time to hear about what they shouldn’t be doing. He was fine with it because that wasn’t what he came for. Jex was ready to prove to the Vartians how much of a psycho menace he could be, as they were unaware of his disposition beforehand. Seeing the soldiers whiz by, Jex quietly scoffed. Seriously you have got to be kidding me. This just proves the Republic’s as bad as the Empire. Jex thought turning his attention back to the Major. Nodding his head half-heartedly Jex looked to the left and hoped they would be leaving soon. He just couldn’t wait to get down to business. That is, seeming like he was going to help but then betraying them all.

[Maya Nornel]

Traversing vast distances, across many systems into unknown and possibly hostile territory to help a foreign species wasn’t an opportunity that came every day. The distressing call for assistance from the Vartains had spread far and wide through out the many worlds in the traverse and Maya was only too happy to help those in need. Despite not knowing what the exact cause of their plight didn’t seem to bother her much. All that matter was that there was a chance she could be useful and that was more than enough for her.

The trip out to the Vartain home world was a rather uneventful one. There was a great deal of excitement discovering the technical wonders that were hidden within The Imperative; of course, for security reasons Maya was left within viewing distance only despite her wishes. Aside from the various scientific novels she’d brought to study her time was spent gazing out the ship’s starboard windows. Thicker than her calf the hefty glass provided ample means to watch the looming bits of star light that dotted the near abyss. It always amazed her how the specks of light were so far yet if she reached out it was almost as thought she could embrace their glow.

Between the moments she wasn’t reading, or stargazing Maya chatted occasionally with the few crew members who weren’t to caught up in their assigned tasks. As expected, the crew were all composed of the militaristic, red headed, females Maya had come to known as The Vartain. The conversations, if they could be called that, were short and drier than sand in a desert. For the most part Maya was left to observe them in their work. Though they weren’t the social type she was impressed by their work ethic; working so efficiently and in unison without so much as an utterance between them; they reminded her of ants, not in any demeaning fashion of course. In fact, Maya found them intriguing. There was a certain… hive mind complex about them. Never any squabbling, nor debates, just a mission shared between them which was completed flawlessly.

Eventually, as all things do, the trip had reached it apex as the looming form of Vartia emerged. A spherical volcanic plume of ashen grey stood out from the bleakness of space christened as the Vartain home world. The devastation that had struck the planet was clear enough to see even with Maya’s untrained eyes. Much like its people the planet was a harsh, cold, seeming uncaring place where only the strongest could survive let alone flourish. Yet, even through all the chaos and destruction there was a beauty to be had. That a world which had gone through so much had not been given up on; whether this was from shear determination or a lack of care of where they lived… that was uncertain as of yet.

Packing away what gear was strewn about her resting area Maya exited towards the bay area of the vessel. Thankfully with the ship being filled with various crewmen… crewwoman… crew-Vartains(?), finding her way about proved an easy enough task. Arriving just as the mechanical ramp began its descent Maya lagged behind in awe as she took in the hanger. Much like the ship the hanger was alive with activity though with a touch more noise. Caught up in watching troop movements and the departure of ships Maya hardly noticed she was alone standing in the center of the ramp. It wasn’t until the cutting voice of Mayor Yana broke her gaze. Making a few large strides Maya galloped her way down the ramp before arriving before the Major slightly gasping.

“Er…yes. Impressive.” Maya glanced between the soldiers and the Major. Had Maya not spoken to some of the crew before hand she might have spoke out about the lack of compassion shown by the Vartains. Who was she to judge though? This wasn’t her home nor her people. They had their own customs and ways of life. Maya might not approve of this treatment, but it wasn’t her place to commit on it.

“I have three questions if you wouldn’t mind Miss Talanskia.” Maya raised her hand much like a child would have in a classroom setting. The fact that she was most likely shorter than everyone there would only enhance that image.

“First: What exactly are we here for? The request was rather… broad, if not absent of actual information. I’m more than willing to help, but a little more detail on the ‘what’ would be appreciated.” Maya noted pressing a finger against her lips in a thoughtful expression.

“Second: I’d love to get a chance to explore the planet’s surface if that can be arranged. Take some samples of any flora and fauna… if there are any….” Maya words trailed off at that. From what she’d seen from orbit the planet wasn’t in the best condition. She wasn’t sure if the native creatures had survived whatever caused such global effects.

“Er- and, would it be alright if I kept my belongings with me? Some of its rather sensitive equipment.” She gently patted one of the two packs which were slung over her shoulders.

[apothecary]

One of the VIPs remained silent however the other wished to speak to. Major Talanskia nodded in agreement when Maya said that they were impressive. If only more would recognise that, the galaxy may well be a different place. She kept such thoughts to herself, antagonising the VIPs was against orders and happened to be counter productive to the overall goal. She stiffened however when addressed as Miss, her eyes widened momentarily as if a recruit made the mistake of incorrectly stating her rank. There was a pause, where the Vartian clearly wrestled with the desire to chew her out for the slip and not wishing to cause the other woman some upset. "You may." She said simply, her voice tight as she attempted to maintain some manner of politeness. "Please address me by my appropriate military rank of Major." Miss? What on Vartia happened to be a Miss? She dismissed such a question as one of those many strange alien things. Maybe it was one of those weird ranks they liked to give one another?
She was amused by the fact Maya raised her hand in a fashion similar to recruits asking questions from their instructors. Maybe she had spent time around Vartians previously?

"I am not at liberty to discuss the nature of your visit. When you meet with the Prime Soldier all will be explained then by her." The Prime Soldier was the Vartian Prime Minister, the commander in chief of the Vartian Republic. "Your willingness to help will be useful and will no doubt be rewarded for your assistance." The Vartian avoided dropping even a slight hint as to what they may be asked to do however. "I will speak with my superiors in regards to that request. The planet is hostile due to the weapons deployed by Trepida and the Trepivans." She said the names with disgust, as if they were a curse word or something poisonous. "They were the original inhabitants of Vartia, the Trepida were responsible for the creation of the First Vartians." She shook her head. "The scientist De Karn, he used his own daughter, the primogenitor as the standard template for all Vartians. After the war, those Vartians rebelled against the Trepida and became the sole inheritors of this desolate planet." De Karn had been killed by his own creations, Vartians turning on those who forced them to fight their war and win it. They had after all existed purely to wage conflict, something that the Vartian Republic still did all those centuries later.

"There is life still out there. Some flora and fauna survived, though most perished. All sea life is dead, do not approach the Dead Seas should you find yourself near the shore." In truth life may well persist in the polluted neon blue water of Vartia's seas, but the Vartians did not know. Since there was no use for the radioactive sludge, they ignored it. "I do believe as part of your visit you will be allowed onto the surface." Of course, supplied with protective equipment and under Vartian guard. They could not have the VIPs get picked off by a carnivorous tree or killed by a landmine.

The final question the Vartian seemed uncertain. "You may take them with you as far as the entrance to the Bunker of Parliament but you will be required to leave them outside." The Major explained hoping that would satisfy her. She wondered why aliens always had so many questions, they seemed unable to follow orders without first questioning them. A Vartian obeyed, they did not question the why of it. But they were not Vartians.

"Now if you will follow me." She said, spinning on her heel and marching off towards a honeycomb shaped tunnel. It was just as active here as it had been in the hanger. Vartians were everywhere. The music that had been playing finally ended and a female voice came over the speakers. "This is Vartian News Today and I'm your host Lana Oktabri, the third shock army has achieved victory on..." Whatever planet the Vartians had won a battle on, the reader was drowned out by loud cheers even a few whoops. "Brave fighting Vartians stiffened the resolve of allied forces from the Republic, we wish our brave fighting women good luck." More cheering though not as loud this time. "Tank production has increased by fifteen percent, ship production by five percent and rifle production by twenty percent. That is the news, be sure to tune in next time, this is Lana Oktabri from VNT signing off." More music played instead, this one an orchestral hymn.

The tunnel had numerous branches and door onto it, though was sign posted every so often, they were following the sign that said Mag Rail. After a five minute or so walk, the Major led them into an open space, clearly a railway station of sorts. Dozens of platforms and lines stretched off into the distance, lights hung from the ceiling. A mag train rumbled past, it's flatbed cars carrying a tank on each. There were Vartians everywhere again, some trooping aboard waiting trains, soldier preparing for deployment, others carried supplies or were loading/unloading the trains.
"This is one of several Mag Stations in Bunker Complex 001." She explained. "We will use one of the trains to take us to the Bunker of Parliament." She pointed at one of the trains, smaller than the others with only two carriages. Vartians stood on guard outside, gasmasks worn, standing at attention. "That will be our train for the journey."

She led the way once more to the train, as they neared the guards outside snapped into life, two opened the doors and stepped inside. The Major with the VIPs entered the train, followed by two more Vartians soldiers, the door closed behind them with a gentle hiss. Compared to the usual spartan approach to decoration, the train was luxurious. It's supplies new, as if the changes made were for the benefits of the VIPs. A wooden table gleaming with polish sat in the centre of the carriage, surrounded by chairs and assorted furniture clearly not of Vartian design. Food sat on silver dishes, platters of meats, breads even a bowl of fruit and vegetables. "Please help yourself to any refreshment." She said. "We were not certain what plants you find edible." Being obligate carnivores, Vartians could not eat plant matter themselves. The fact that other species chose to just in plants confused them. Hence why the fruit bowl contained vegetables. It was one and the same for them. There were several large bowls, though container might have sufficed better of a strange pink like mush or slop. That was a standard Vartian dish, meat protein based, packed full of carbohydrates, minerals and vitamins. It did not taste like anything, but looked unappetising. To be honest any of the actual Vartian dishes looked poor at best. It was clear that they had someone else doing the alien cooking for them.

[sithlover]

Still completely ignoring the Major, Jex stared off into the distance and started wondering about what it was they are supposed to do. Maybe the Vartians had actually wanted them to join their military, and they just tricked them into coming. After that nasty thought popped into his head Jex turned his attention back to Major Yana just in time to head the truly important stuff.

In reality, he didn’t start paying attention until the Major spoke about being allowed onto the surface. Jex didn’t even bother to ask about bringing his items along with him, as he had very few in possession anyways. Not wanting to be killed by what he thought of as the “Empire’s other half” he decided to follow the Major to wherever she might take him. Even if it was to his death.

And then he heard the news. Do Vartians never have anything interesting going on? This was the question that arose in Jex’s mind as soon as he heard the boorish news segment. To him, he believed all they cared about was fighting for Vartia in war. Jex had a hunch that the Vartians never had any spontaneous outbreaks of Porgs or even Jawas in swanky, upscale parties. Not like they even had parties for the upper class anyways as they completely lacked an upper class. He was at least glad the music wasn’t something so dreadful anymore.

As they headed for the train Jex spotted some people, presumably Vartians, in gas masks. This didn’t phase him as he was used to seeing this sort of attire on many different planets. As soon as he walked into the train and saw all of the food, he completely dismissed the idea of them trying to butter them up with kindness in order to get them to join the military. He immediately began eating as much as he could, and when he was finished he turned to Major Yana. “Thank you for somewhat providing us with this meal.” Suddenly he started becoming a little nervous, and uncomfortable. “I haven’t had a good meal like this in a long time.” Pausing for a bit, he then smirked, “If you know what I mean.” He chuckled a little, and then looked away shyly. Putting his head down he hoped the Major didn’t think of him as pathetic.

[caelum]

Typical operating procedures among the Sith was rather straightforward. The Cult of Strife would seek out and destroy those enemies of the Empire that they could find, the Cult of Ascension would deal with the maintenance and management of the Order itself, the Cult of Mysteries were to seek out the truth of the Force in all it's aspects while the Cult of Truth would, ironically, deceive and lie for the betterment of the Order and the Empire.

This approach towards the Vartian Republic would, usually, be handled by members of the Cult of Truth. A diplomatic approach towards a world seeking help? Classical operating procedure for the Inquisitors, and had Lord Nostos not deemed otherwise, it would be.

Within the train there are two figures, positioned tactically within the train itself so as to impart a level viewing field of all entrances and exits from the train. The first figure was a woman, standing at attention, datapad to her side while wearing the uniform of the Sith Empire. The second figure was naturally more alarming, sitting placidly in place was what appears to be an older man in an outfit that seemed more streamlined and imperial than the loose robes his kind usually preferred.

"Well it certainly took them long enough to arrive." the Sith Lord sighs, eyes turning from the group to the girl to his side. Even casual observation can discern that the man's eyes were unnatural, burning a bright light as though powered by the dark side itself. The lieutenant merely nods.

"Of course, sir." she says neutrally, before giving a nod of acknowledgement to the rest of the party. The Sith Lord stands.

"I am Lord Nostos." he says, nodding at the rest of the party. "Now, in typical parlance, a Sith Lord appearing when least expected would be the last thing many would see. If a Jedi were present among you we would engage in bracing philosophical discourse punctuated by lightsaber combat. I would much rather not have to deal with bloodshed, viscera and other such fluids to stain my clothes. I am here to assist the Vartians in whatever means necessary, and I come-."

Nostos suppresses a smile, though he only partially succeeds, a small glimmer of amusement making itself known at the corner of his lips. What an unusual turn of phrase, he'd so rarely needed to say it. "I come in peace, and I would rather not shred up the Vartians's lovely little train."

[Maya Nornel]

The replies Maya received helped to alleviate the curiosity which burned within. With a quick nod following each of the majors answers Maya made notes on a small pad she'd taken from her satchel. Though it wasn't likely she'd forget anything important at the moment one never knew what could slip through the cracks. Thinking it best to stray on the safe side she took note of the key points. Despite calming her for the moment Maya couldn't help to be disappointed at the thought of leaving her equipment behind even for a small amount of time. Having little in the way of accumulated wealth of her own replacing such devices if they were damaged wasn't feasible at the moment.

"Of course, sorry Major." Maya meekly smiled at the Majors correction of her title. Such ranks seemed to important to the Vartians and it wouldn't have been in Maya's favor to address the woman improperly.

With that out of the way Maya followed the Major she she escorted them towards a tunnel off to one side of the hangar. Despite the thousands of questions that brewed within she managed to keep her mouth shut. Finding herself on such an alien world naturally brought ideas, and thoughts to mind but if they were to stop at every point of interest nothing would ever get done. Rather, Maya continued to record questions which she might later have a chance to ask; god forbid she find someone willing to listen she'd probably never shut up.

The walk was a quiet one among those in the group as they made their way through the tunnel. Having easily spotted the sign for the Mag rail the appearance of the station came as no surprise as it appeared before them. Much like everything Maya had experienced so far of the Vartians the sight of the various tanks and troops was a familiar one.

"Geez, tone it down maybe?" Maya thought to herself seeing tank after tank passing in a blur of motion. What could they possibly need so many weapons for? While not highly versed on the latest state of the galaxy it seemed the militaristic nature of the Vartians might have been a tad over kill.

Slipping in after the Major Maya found quickly found herself a seat in the train. Despite the already small stature of the Vartain people Maya found that with her back pressed against the seat her feet dangled every so slightly from the floor making her look all the smaller than she was. Sighing at this fact she pulled her leg beside her now more laying than sitting.

"Oh, Thank you Major." Maya noted at the dishes which had been prepared for them. Like the Vartains Maya's people were carnivores so the wide assortment of meals were welcomed. Not one to over indulge when presented with the chance she opted for a glass of water. The meal aboard the Imperative had been more than enough to satisfy her for the time being.

Sipping quietly in her own thoughts Maya's attention was pulled towards the mysterious stranger who had been awaiting for their arrival. With her attention first fixated on the platters of food two looming figures clad in black hadn't been noticed. Coming to stand the pale skinned, red eyed, lanky man sent a shiver down her spine. Having lived most of her life in Sith controlled space she knew one when they appeared. While it wasn't as though Maya had done anything to officially stand against the Sith regime she couldn't say she favored them. Anything that sent a ripple of fear through her very being wasn't something that she trusted.

Clasping her drink a little tighter Maya merely nodded at the mans words not daring to make eye contact, as if the mere action could allow her thoughts to be read. Stiffening slightly in her seat she kept her eyes locked on drink.

[apothecary]

 The major frowned at the thank you from what she presumed to be a male. Many Vartians struggled to identify the difference between the two most common genders, male and female which they encountered within the galaxy. After a pause, she nodded. "Cannot have you going hungry." She said simply, which happened to be true, though under normal circumstances Vartians made for distinctly terrible hosts. "I do not but Provack is always welcome." She nodded at the unappetizing pink slop in the containers. Meat protein based, vacuum sealed power, with the addition of a little water in became an extremely nutritious paste, hence the name Provack. 
Aliens confused her, she watched him lower his head uncertain what to make of him. Why did they select her instead of someone from the Diplomatic Corps? They were after all supposed to be used to communicating with aliens.

The Vartians all collectively stiffened as if they expected two rival factions to start tearing into one another on the train. Not that there was much five Vartian Soldiers could have done to stop the Sith if they desired hostility. Yet there were plenty of other Vartians on Vartia to avenge them if necessary, but hostilities were to be avoided. Orders had been given, orders must be obeyed and followed without question. After all the Vartian Republic commands. 
"Greetings Lord Nostos I..." The Vartian appeared to visible struggle to say a word before speaking. "Apologise for the delay in the arrival of the Republic's representatives. We welcome your assistance in this matter though hostilities are to be avoided." Unlike many species within the galaxy, Vartians held no fear, or at least they experienced it in a different way to most. When afraid, they became extremely hostile, more likely to fight. There was only one thing in them that managed to gift them with true terror and thus allowed them to experience true fear as others did... The Great Destroyer, the Jedi who defeated the Vartian Republic all those centuries ago. 

"The water has been triple filtered and contains a protein vitamin and mineral additive." She said turning to face Maya who clasped only a glass of water. "It is designed to allow soldiers some calorie based content during operations where they have only the opportunity for liquid refreshment."  

After a while the train slowed as it pulled into another station, though at first glace this one seemed a lot like the previous one. Full of soldiers and activity, but there was differences. Banners hung from the walls, but two of them did not belong to the Vartian Republic, one was a Republic Banner, the other the Sith Empire's Banner. 
Both had their fair share of scorch marks from blasters which even at a glance screamed that the Vartians had taken them during a battle. At first glance it may have seemed like a slight, but the banners of the Vartian Republic which hung down were equally damaged, some with blaster marks, others shredded by jagged shrapnel, one was stained with something that appeared to be blood. 

"We are here, please collect your things and follow me." The major said, taking point by the door and leading the way out, the four guards would follow the both groups out. She led them into another corridor, though this one was decorated, paintings of surprising beauty and skill stood on the walls. Yet, each and everyone depicted a battle or a war, Vartians fighting, Vartians waging war, Vartians wining... Painting after painting of war, of death. It almost was if the galaxy itself happened to be screaming that this species, this race was an anomaly, something that never should have existed. 

 Every so often they would turn down a different branch, with more of the same art work. Evenly spaced against the walls stood a Vartian soldier at attention, bayonet gleaming, gasmask in place. They appeared to be like any other Vartian soldier but their sleeves had a slight gold trim, marking them as the Parliament Guard, the elite Vartian unit whose job was to protect the leadership of the Vartian Republic. 
Yana halted them by two large blast doors which suddenly loomed out of the wall, stenciled above them on the concrete in black block letters were the words. BUNKER COMPLEX 001. Standing nearby were dozens of guards, several automated turrets were mounted on the walls and ceilings. 

"You are about to meet the Prime Soldier." Yana said turning to face them. "You will behave appropriately, any act of hostility or aggression will have severe repercussions." She spoke calmly, as if delivering warnings happened to be par for the course with her role.
With that she turned on her heel and headed towards the doors, they parted with a soft hiss and slid back and the group entered a large darkened chamber, lights lit the way to the centre of the room. 
Which as they reached more lights flickered one, revealing row after row of rising tiers of seats  as well as the fact they were in a vaulted chamber. Each seat was occupied by a Vartian, the walls were painted with truly beautify and horrible pieces of art depicting battles in their glory and terror. Yet one image may have stood out above all others, an image of a blue skinned Twi'lek, blue saber in hand, fighting Vartians, his booted feet atop of pile of the slain. 

The room was silent, except for the rasping breathing of so many gasmasked faces. Slowly an old Vartian was wheeled onto a small stage with a pulpit and several microphones. Four guards stood by her as well as a Vartian medic. With shaking hands, the old woman managed to stand up unaided, griping the pulpit. Her uniform was bedecked with campaign ribbons and dozens of medals. Few in the galaxy had ever seen an old Vartian before, yet here stood one, her face wrinkled, her fiery hair now silver and grey. She did not wear a gasmask like the others. It was the Prime Soldier, the leader of the Vartian Republic itself. When she spoke, her voice was strong and confident, not a weak rasp as one might expect given her advanced age. "You will save us." 

Yana looked stunned at such an announcement, her pale face somehow managing to pale further. The Prime Soldier continued. "You will save the Vartians!" At this second announcement, the rest of the room took up the call. "Save the Vartians! Save the Vartians! Save the Vartians!" Perhaps the most chilling part was how they voiced the chant in perfect unison. 

[caelum]

Nostos said nothing, a slight inclination of the head the only indication that he had heard the vartian. Lieutenant Nivix handled the particulars of proper means of address and conversations and what not, leaving the Sith Lord free to explore other interests.

The Vartian Republic was an interesting case study, as far as cultures went. A society too militant and violent for the Jedi and too proud to be cowed by the Sith, they existed as a curiosity, a relic almost, from a time when the galaxy was far more brutal, far less civilised. Nostos imagined that if they had existed in that era of chaos after the Fall of the Rakata they would have been a force to be reckoned with. In an era of rival warlords and the galaxy in chaos, a united planetary government ready and starving for war would have been changed the rules, perhaps even unsettled the entire board.

Instead, they exist in the here and now, serving as a continual barb at the side of republic and empire both. The stained flags erected upon the station were only the most obvious signs of their disdain, though he considered whether their placement had been calculated in some way to incite a reaction out of him. He recognised both flags; The republic one belonging to a regiment based out of or operating around the Ehosiq Sector, and while he had no real understanding for why that was chosen, he did note that the imperial flag seemed to originate from a flagship of some kind, specifically one that commanded at least two dozen ships, judging by the heraldry and quality of the flag itself.

The art afterwards, the paintings and sculpture and heraldry of a thousand Vartian battlefields, was interesting. Art was a subjective experience of course, detail and meaning drawn forth from the perspective of those that observed it. However, of more importance, was the indication of the psychology and perspective of those that created it. Nostos himself had no eye for art, not truly. He had tried in his early days to create something of beauty, but even absorbed with inspiration by the light side of the force, he failed to find his inspiration. The art spoke, and Nostos could only see it's surface meaning. That the Vartians relished victory, that their society had centred itself fanatically around it. That they feared defeat, dreaded it like most mortal races feared death.

So instead, Nostos observed his erstwhile companions.

Others had responded to the Vartian's call, though none truly belonging to the Republic per se. Nostos could sense them in the force, no longer beings blind to it's mysteries but neither able to truly traverse the liminal spaces between, he observed them instead.

The girl, the togruta, was young, though even that seemed insufficient to explain her reduced stature. A body slight and petite, Nostos imagined the girl to have a pleasant, even excitable, air to her usually, but he was no fool. His presence had disturbed her in some way, concerned her, which was only natural really. That fear could have it's own uses, and the Sith Lord imagined that it would be more useful to keep such fear at it's present state, neither igniting it nor reducing it's intensity. A shame, truly, she seemed to possess the mark of an intellectual, and he imagined himself capable of enjoying her company.

The other one, the male, was something else. Nostos could feel his presence tinged in the dark side of the force, but it was undisciplined. Untrained. He imagined that the male had come across his powers by accident somehow, or had it revealed to him in some meaningless incident that unlocked his inner potential. Regardless, he was both predictable and dangerous. Aided by the dark side, he would likely lean to his own impulses, a desire that could either assist or irritate.

In time, however, such observations came to an end, and Nostos considered the room they had been placed in. The twi'lek Jedi, larger than life and positioned in a place of significance, spoke to him in some way. He found his eyes drawn to it, considering, and Nostos was aware that the force meant to tell him something. So often the Vartians relished their victories, hoarded them like selfish spinsters. Why allow what appears to be defeat, or at the very least the appearance of a worthy foe, be placed in such a position of honor?

Such thoughts were stilled by the appearance of the Prime Soldier, and Nostos allowed his irritation at the interruption to drop from his thoughts. He was no Cult of Strife lackey to be so impressed by the discipline of the soldiers, nor was he of the Order of Gold intoxicated by the synchronicity of fools marching to one's whims, but he was mildly impressed by it. Not that Nostos allowed such amusement to escape his face, instead allowing only a casual amusement from bright eyes to traverse over the entire party as a whole.

Once it was over, or at least once Nostos had found an appropriate place to interfere, he moved forward. His eyes stared straight ahead, at the Prime Soldier, and as he stood straight and unafraid, he dips his presence into the dark side of the force. It envelops him, and while no physical manifestation was visible, there was a potent psychological and physiological effect. The area around the sith lord was cold, the breath chilling in the air, and those that focused their attention upon him found their instinctual, animal, brain chittering at the back of their skull in anxiety.

Nothing too overbearing, but he was curious as to how she would respond.

"Hail, Prime Soldier." Lord Nostos says, his tone cultured and polite, a minimal hint of an onderonian accent to his words. "My name is Lord Nostos, and on behalf of the Order of the Sith Lords, we would be more than happy in assisting the Vartian Republic in whatever way you would require. I must admit, however, to necessitating further information. One cannot obliterate a target without knowing it in the first place."

[sithlover]

Slightly nodding while having his face turned away from her, he was able to pick up what she had said. He glanced over in the direction of the Provack, and was confused by her statement at first. Jex then realized that although the Major didn’t understand what he had been hinting at, she somewhat indicated that whatever she had gestured to was the kind of food she was used to. Even if the Major wasn’t aware of that underlying meaning, Jex appreciated it. It meant he wasn’t the only one who had to eat whatever he could get.

Jex heard the Major beginning to talk to somebody else. Although intrigued by who it was, Jex ultimately decided to keep staring at the window. That way it would seem like he wasn’t eavesdropping in on their conversation and instead, looked like he had zoned out. However, that didn’t work out for him and all heard was a boring conversation about the contents of the water they were serving. -What a bore.- Jex thought to himself as he rolled his eyes, and then turned away from the window.

After what seemed like forever to Jex, they finally arrived at their destination. He immediately noticed the banners, presumably attained from war, or at least the remnants of one. As soon as they reached the artwork, Jex couldn’t take it anymore. From a society he barely respected, what little respect there was disappeared after believing all of the detailed art pieces depicting war, was complete overkill. With this new sentiment he barely glanced at the guards they passed, while gracefully hiding any sort of newfound disgust he had. Stopping when they were to halt, he briefly read the writing suggesting where they were headed was Bunker 001.

This time when the Major spoke, Jex listened wholeheartedly. He made a mental note to not tick off the Prime Soldier, or anyone in the room they were about to head into. A little upset there were no seats opened his gaze instead fixated on the painting of the Jedi. He didn’t realize Jedis could be that vicious, and wondered if the Jedi in the painting had stayed, or was still, a Jedi. Turning away from the painting he had just noticed the old Vartian on the stage coming closer. She seemed to invoke an odd sense of beauty, and her voice was surprisingly stable.

Shocked at her announcement, Jex realized that must’ve been what they had been called over for. Trying to think above all of the chanting, he wondered what the reason was. The Vartians certainly looked healthy and like they could hold their own, what did they need them for? Him, an “ordinary” human, and a young looking female togruta. What could they do?

Suddenly, feeling some sort of powerful dark presence in the force he began to look around to find the source. Maybe Jex had just been imagining things but he knew the force when he felt it, but how could this sort of presence be here? However, he then heard a familiar voice speak. One that had been addressed as Lord Nostos. He followed the source of the voice, and was met with the source of the dark presence he felt. It was overwhelming, but he felt no fear. He couldn’t, at least not anymore, if he had even had any in the first place. In place of fear, the effect the man’s dark aura had on Jex completely numbed his emotions. If Jex were to stop looking at him, he would be able to express his emotions again. Otherwise, the man would have to stop channeling that energy. Jex had figured the “Lord” title meant he was indeed a Sith Lord. Jex was however, surprised that the Sith Lord had meant peace to the Vartians, and wasn’t there to try and take over their land.

[apothecary]

Yana stiffened at the strange coldness which seemed to sudden infiltrate the room, rather than feel an anxious uncertainty or fear as normal species might, the Vartians possessed the Kran Val, which served largely to edit and control their emotional range and responses. The stimuli was interpreted, but an aggressive response was called for, a fight rather than flight instinct. Yana's hand went instinctively to the butt of her pistol, more than a few other Vartians moved hands closer to weapons, the cold air becoming infected with hostility. A few turned glances up at the painting of the Great Destroyer and made a protective gesture with their hand, as if warding off an evil spirit. 

The Prime Soldier remained calm, though her purple eyes had hardened somewhat. She made no move to draw a weapon or call for more security. Whether she felt not anxiety or simply possessed a better ability to mask her reactions was unclear. "Hail Lord Nostos of the Sith Lords." She returned the greeting calmly, her voice terse. "Your forces fight well." Though the Vartians believed fervently in their innate superiority to all other forms of life, they valued enemies who put up a good fight. The better the foe, the greater the triumph when they were defeated. 

At the request for more information, chatter broke out amongst the assembled Vartians as they seemed to confer over something. After a minute the Prime Soldier spoke once more. "We believe it necessary to grant you this informational request." She said, nodding to someone in the seats. A heart beat latter a holographic map appeared above their heads. A large red dot located in the centre of it, surrounded by several Vartian Divisions. "Approximately three days ago at 0600 hours Vartian Standard Time, we received a transmission from a previously undetected facility in this sector. Recon teams infiltrated the site but contact was lost, SOS teams were deployed and reported that the site contained some kind of biological agent... Lethal to Vartians." She paused letting the gravity of those words seek in. "The infected were quarantined but all those exposed, including medical staff have been terminated by the toxin as of forty eight hours. We believe this agent to be the development of those responsible for our creation. We have quarantined the site and you will enter and retrieve a vaccine for this as we believe a cure may be found within the facility. Upon retrieval you will leave the site and we will destroy it from orbit." She finished with a smile as if it were the simplest matter in the world. "This is the transmission we received." As soon as she paused, a strange language filled the chamber, it was in the old tongues of the planet's previous occupants. After a pause, the message replayed itself translated mercifully this time. 

"Too late... Unable to... Invading armies... Betrayed.... No escape." The transmission hissed and snarled with static. "No where is safe... Seek shelter... The Vault... Vartians are attacking... Trepdiano... Fallen... Only hope... An act of desperation... Shield of a species... All is lost. Cannot be stopped. Cannot be stopped." The Vartians turned their heads to regard the people they had invited as guests to their world. "We believe this is a Trepida facility hidden since the Great Rebellion, you must infiltrate this facility and bring us the vaccine. Current intelligence indicates that this toxin was one of the main catalysts for the uprising." It was no wonder the Vartians were mobilising. They were preparing for a total war for their homeworld and right to exist as a species. Across the galaxy Vartians warships and armies were returning to the Vartian Republic. So far as they were concerned, this was going to be another bloody and long war just like their ancestors waged thousands of years ago. 

[caelum]

"I shall relay your compliments to the Order of Bronze" Lord Nostos says smiling slightly. "I'm sure they would be delighted to hear of the respect the Vartian Republic has towards it's forces."

Nostos listened quietly to the Prime Soldier's statements. Strictly speaking, the Vartian Republic was a thorn in the side of the Empire due to it's less than pacifistic stance towards the rest of the galaxy. For such a small species, their influence and power seemed almost unnaturally incongruous from what one would expect. Nonetheless it was their discipline, their militarized society and the Eternal War they seemed so interested in believing that motivated their species. A useful tool to utilize, an eternal irritant if not.

The destruction of the threat would be a great boon to the Vartians. The exact nature of the threat was largely inconsequential to Nostos; Trepida or Vartian or Republic, it seemed clear that the Prime Soldier wanted them slaughtered, and that, if nothing else, was something that could be done. If there was anything that could be said of the Empire, that could be said of the Sith, it was that butchering of both the widespread and precise kind was something of a specialty.

Assuming, of course, that it was worthwhile.

"The destruction of your enemies is something that can be arranged." Nostos considers aloud, hands placed behind his back, a militaristic posture. "But this goes beyond comfortable arrangements to your lovely capital or the delicacies you've fed us as we awaited your pronouncement. You expect much of us, and to destroy your enemies on your behalf is the act of a friend, not that of a stranger."

Nostos allows his words to hang in the air, watching the Prime Soldier, bright eyes looking at her with calculating eyes. His meaning was clear enough. The Order of the Sith Lords would not assist a potential enemy, would not do something out of the kindness of their hearts. There was a price to their assistance.

[apothecary]

 The Vartian Republic was a powerful militarised nation, but even if they stood in their full might not bloodied in wars against the Sith, the Chorus and other threats, dying in their droves across the galaxy unmourned by their own nation and their dubious allies, they would not be able to resist the power of the Sith Empire. That said, the conflicts so favoured by the Vartians and needed for their society to function properly were slowly fracturing the alliance between the Vartians and the Republic itself. Tensions were growing, particularly towards Vartian attitudes towards civilian populations. These tensions had grown worse following the mass withdrawal of Vartian armies and fleets back towards their own systems following the discover of the toxin on their home world. 
If a war was to come, the Vartians as ever would be prepared to fight it. But if a war for there home did come, they wished to win the war, yet in order to do such a thing they needed a vaccination against it. Otherwise for all their skill at arms, death would come to them and defeat swiftly after.

"Please do." The Prime Soldier said, a few Vartians nodded or muttered approvingly. When it came to war, only those who fought well were worth considering. Sith lords in particularly were an active concern for the Vartians who lacking any sensitivity to the force or real knowledge of it were unable to develop an effective counter, beyond superior numbers and excessive fire power. 

At his words shocked gasps escaped from some of the Vartians. "They do not obey." One voice cried out in alarm as if questioning orders was something impossible to understand. "They question." Came another older voice, the voices rose as disgruntled murmurings began. The Prime Soldier eyes glared with hostility and perhaps a hint of frustration or embaressment. She reached down and slammed a small wooden hammer repeated into the stand before her. "Order! Order!" She shouted and the voices and grumbling eventually grew silent. She cracked her neck awkwardly. "We are not used to the ways of other beings... That you do not obey without question is a difficult subject for some of my fellow ministers to understand." The Prime Soldier explained but gave no hint of an apology.

"We can offer you much in terms of rewards for your service to the Vartian Republic, wealth for one as we have acquired much from those we vanquish..." She trailed off looking thoughtful. Material wealth was nothing to a Vartian for they cared little for money, gold, jewelry they merely took such plunder as others valued it. "I suspect however that the Sith has their own preference for a reward. What are your terms?" 

[sithlover]

Hearing about how they were to save the Vartians an idea started to form in Jex’s head. He knew exactly what he was going to do with that vaccine and where it was going, and it definitely wasn’t going to the Vartians. Jex had finally made up his mind about the Vartians and decided he didn’t like them, no, he despised them. Jex would be perfectly content with letting their species die out one by one due to this disease, and he’d make it happen by keeping the vaccine from them. He figured it’d be hard to pull off, but considered the notion that Nostos was faking the fact that he was here for peace. Maybe Nostos would agree with what Jex would try to pull, and help him with it. Although Jex wouldn’t be so sure, so he just kept it as a silent idea in his head for the time being. Instead, Jex would pretend to be fully on board with helping them, and they wouldn’t suspect a thing. Although when Nostos asked for a reward it did seem promising, he thought it over a bit and realized that doesn’t really matter to him anyways. When the Vartians started arguing due to being confused by this proposal, Jex tried his best to contain his laughter by covering his mouth with his hand. It didn’t work out that great though, so Jex figured he had just probably made the situation more awkward.