Shaman Chill
Administrator
Stay frosty, my friends!
Posts: 2,251
Affiliation: The Ancient Order of the Whills
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Shaman Chill on Jul 6, 2013 18:57:48 GMT -8
The Governor's Residence located within the city of Safaeyet. It is a compact series of connected buildings with a tower that rises from the center. The roofs of the connected buildings are flat with walls on the edge so armed guards may be posted and still have some protection.
|
|
|
Post by Darth Sevan on Jul 7, 2013 9:12:54 GMT -8
Darth Sevan heard the name and almost smiled. His mind wandered to the Wookiee Sith who had found his holocron and used it to bring Sevan back from the realm of Chaos. Sevan had not heard from Lord Hexor in many years and now his successor stood before him. If this Mandalorian was strong enough to best Hexor then surely he was precisely what Sevan needed in his army.
"If you learned from Lord Hexor....then prove it.... He was a master of many of my techniques that he learned while starting the Order of the Black Flame."
|
|
|
Post by Basil One on Jul 7, 2013 17:29:07 GMT -8
"I haven't come here to so off my knowledge of the force, I've come seeking knowledge of the location of where I can learn the Order's powers and secrets.
"His techniques?" Basil thought. "But it is impossible, Hexor's master was long dead..."
|
|
|
Post by Darth Sevan on Jul 8, 2013 12:44:01 GMT -8
Sevan laughed lightly.
"Mandalorian, nothing you could do would count as "showing off". I see you are questioning why I call them "my" techniques. I see Lord Hexor did not fully explain who I am."
With this Sevan stood, straightening his back and rising to his full height. Towering a foot over the Mando, Sevan looked down with black eyes and said
"I am Darth Sevan, Lord of Fury, Old Emporer of Korriban, Former Leader of the Sith Consortium, Leader of the Order of the Black Flame and one of the few Old Sith Lords still left in this galaxy"
With this speech Sevan let a small portion of his true power show. This power far exceeded Lord Hexor's and should suprise the Mandalorian.
|
|
|
Post by Basil One on Jul 9, 2013 19:17:33 GMT -8
Basil watched as the decrepit old man suddenly rose up above him. He felt the power surrounding Sevan grow emiencely, and Basil just grinned. He'd found the Sith Lord he'd been searching for.
Basil kneeled and said "My lord, I have come to learn the secrets of the Black Flame."
|
|
|
Post by Darth Sevan on Jul 10, 2013 8:56:57 GMT -8
Sevan sat again letting the power fade away.
"To learn from me, first you must prove yourself. Killing Hexor is a large task that you apparently accomplished but now you must help me build an empire." Sevan turned his chair to face out the window, facing away from the Mandalorian
"I have old friends.....powerful friends.....I doubt they know that I have returned and for now I want to keep it that way. You will be my emissary. You will go where I say and do my bidding. Along the way you will learn my ways. When I am ready I will make my presence known but until then I am to remain a secret."
Sevan turned to face the Mando again and began typing into the terminal built into his desk.
"Your first task is to take your forces and sweep this planet. There is still opposition to my rule in the mountains. I am sending coordinates of a gang hideout about 700 miles east of here. Kill them all but bring me the leader of their forces alive."
|
|
|
Post by Basil One on Jul 10, 2013 15:33:24 GMT -8
Basil's mind immediately snapped into what one would call his "combat mode"
"Any idea on their size, what equipment they have? I don't like leading my men into a blind fight, my lord."
He then began transmitting the coordinates back to his ship.
|
|
|
Post by Darth Sevan on Jul 12, 2013 20:46:36 GMT -8
Sevan smiled lightly. The Mandalorians were known for their combat prowess, infact it was a Mando Sith that struck Sevan down, with the help of over 100 troopers.
"If you want information, then go get it."
Sevan turned away motioning for Basil to leave him.
|
|
|
Post by Basil One on Jul 18, 2013 16:58:41 GMT -8
"Yes, my lord."
And with that Basil headed to his ship, gathering his men left outside. He then radioed his men at the ship.
"Sergeant, get the men back on the ship, we're heading out, I'll brief you on the way."
NPC-"Aye aye, sir."
Basil's men scrambled back onto the Iwo and Basil and the team he took got there and then the ship took off, heading for the coordinates Sevan had given him.
|
|
Viox Savage
Blackguard Imperium
"You want the same as me. My redemption, eternal ascension. Setting me free."
Posts: 2,938
Affiliation: Sith Order
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Viox Savage on Dec 3, 2018 6:55:09 GMT -8
Governor's Palace - Anobis.
The ride through the city had been uneventful. Many citizens had gathered to observe the arrival of the Iridonian King. Since the invasion of Iridonia and the self appointment of the Zabrak Sith, Iridonia had gone from being a backwater world to being an economical powerhouse. Which was surprising considering the lack of some industry. But the few small mining firms were doing their thing, and a handful of manufacturing plants continued to push out new products at a steady pace. And then there was the illicit yarrock trade. Striking a deal with the Hutt Cartel, moving the yarrock from Iridonia to wherever it was needed had been a huge economic boon. And if Anobis were to join with the Blackguard, then they too would share in the wealth. Being an agri-world and a mining colony, it was an invaluable asset to the Blackguard. And as such, it would be treated that way. Approaching the palace, the Zabrak King and his escort, climbed the steps to greet Anobis' governor, an aged human male by the name of Vernon Roche. Garbed in a nicely tailored suit, he certainly wasn't as lavishly dressed as the Zabrak, but he still looked formal enough for this meeting. Not that appearances mattered to Viox. If he was willing to join the Blackguard, that was all that mattered. Though, it was going to cost him. He knew this. Everyone had a price. As he climbed the final steps and approached the human, he extended a hand. Roche responded with a big smile and clasped his hand firmly, turning to the holo-droids and gathered citizens.
"Citizens of Anobis! It is my distinct pleasure to welcome the king of Iridonia, Viox Savage! Today marks a beginning of a new era of prosperity as the motherland reaches out to her colonies once more! Together, we will bring peace, prosperity and order to the colonies!"
Softening his expression a bit, so as not to appear as an angry and brooding ass, the Zabrak inclined his head and spoke as well.
"I come to you today to bring you back into the fold that the Iridonian Empire had left you out of. As a society and a people, both iridonian and human, and anyone else, for that matter, you are a welcome and important part of the economic stability of Iridonia and the colonies. Today, I want to share with you the wealth and prosperity that I have managed to bring to Iridonia since my rise to power. Rebuilding after the Iridonian Empire abandoned you was difficult. But we persevered. And our perseverance has been rewarded!"
Speaking with conviction, the Zabrak finally released the governor's grasp and waved to the crowds as the cheered and roared in delight. Roche then motioned for him to come inside the palace. Obliging, the Zabrak fell into step alongside the governor. His guards shadowed them, lingering just out of earshot. Soon the discussions would begin. And hopefully the demands of the governor wouldn't exceed what the Sith was willing to give. But only time would tell...
|
|
Viox Savage
Blackguard Imperium
"You want the same as me. My redemption, eternal ascension. Setting me free."
Posts: 2,938
Affiliation: Sith Order
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Viox Savage on Dec 4, 2018 7:49:44 GMT -8
Seated at a beautifully ornate wroshyyr wood table, the Dark King of Iridonia spoke with Governor Roche about joining the Blackguard.
"-...would be well compensated for sharing your resources with the Blackguard, governor. I assure you that this alliance is beneficial to both of us. You gain the protection of the Blackguard and I gain access to your resources. Resources that will, in turn, be shipped to refineries and turning into products that will return to your world, further increasing your prosperity."
The Sith reclined in the padded chair, sipping on a glass of Tarisian Ale, watching the governor process what has just been said. After a few moments of contemplation, Roche spoke.
"Your offer is most gracious, Lord Savage. Our economy has suffered greatly since the abandonment of our former leaders. Mines have been shutdown. Farms have stopped producing. Criminals run rampant through the country side. Everything fell apart overnight, it seemed. And now you are presenting us with an option to rebuild. Stimulate our economy. My people would be forever grateful. I would be grateful."
The corners of the Zabrak's mouth twitched upwards, ever so slightly. This had been much easier than expected. Fortunately, when the Iridonian Empire disappeared without a trace, many of the Zabrak colonies had been upended, leaving a power-vacuum. And that played to his favour. Saying the right words, offering just the right amount of incentives and praying on the desperation of these people allowed him to manipulate the situation to his benefit. And sure, he was now committed to defending this world, but because it was a resource rich planet, so close to Iridonia, it really wasn't much of a stretch to allocate resources here. Setting down his glass, the Sith looked over at the governor, forcing a look of sympathetic understanding.
"Iridonia's state was not much different, I'm afraid. I understand the struggles, governor. But, fret no longer."
Snapping his fingers, an aide, part of his entourage, approached with an actual paper document. The Treaty of Anobis.
"I have taken the liberty to have our agreement drawn up before hand. As I knew what I was willing to offer you already, having it prepared was fairly easy. All that it requires is for us to sign it..."
A wash of relief came over the governor. RIsing from his seat, the Sith'ari motioned for the governor to approach. As he rose and came over to sign it, the Zabrak scrawled his name across the bottom and then offered the pen to the governor. After skimming the document, he nodded and proceeded to sign his name. Standing on the governor's left side, peering over his shoulder, Viox's eyes lit up once the document was signed. Placing his right hand around the governors shoulder, he spoke once more.
"This is a truly momentous occasion! However, I'm afraid you won't be around to reap the benefits..."
With a wicked grin, a flick of his wrist and a swift turn into the man, a look for shock and pain appeared on the governor's face. The acrid stench of burning flesh greeted the Sith'ari's nose. The single bladed yellow lightsaber that was stored in a forearm launcher on his left arm had been launched into his hand and he had swiftly run the man through. Gleefully watching the man die, the Sith spoke again.
"You should have known better than to try and bargain with a Sith, governor! I compromise with no man. I simply take what I want."
Still grinning, the Sith'ari pulled the blade from the governor's abdomen and shoved the lifeless body to the side. Snapping the fingers on his right hand, two of his guards stepped forward to collect the corpse of the former governor of Anobis. Pulling a holo-com from within the folds of his robes, the image of Commodore King appeared before him.
"Assemble a ground team and a new governor for the planet. Get the mines reopened and the farms producing. Anobis is mine."
Bowing, the miniature image of King replied.
Of course, my liege. At once.
Terminating the call, the Sith'ari rolled up the treaty and seated himself in the chair once more, picking up his ale and having a drink, grinning to himself the whole time...
|
|
Viox Savage
Blackguard Imperium
"You want the same as me. My redemption, eternal ascension. Setting me free."
Posts: 2,938
Affiliation: Sith Order
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Viox Savage on Apr 15, 2019 17:28:00 GMT -8
With the business-as-usual pace having resumed since the invasion, Anobis was prospering under the Blackguard. Safety, security and economic strength unrivaled to what was before. Having been forcefully pulled out of a recession, the mines and fields were now in such a high demand, there wasn't much of a surplus right now. However, should nothing impede production or threaten the supply lines, no shortages would happen. And so, life on Anobis continued, rich and prosperous.
|
|
Viox Savage
Blackguard Imperium
"You want the same as me. My redemption, eternal ascension. Setting me free."
Posts: 2,938
Affiliation: Sith Order
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Viox Savage on Aug 5, 2019 16:39:34 GMT -8
Cera Volkin, the residing governor of Anobis since the unfortunate death of the previous one, sat among the other squabbling delegates from across the planet. It was the same old song and dance. "We've lived up to our end of the bargain, when will we see our promised rewards?" Oddly enough, this time around, the Sith'ari had actually followed through with his promises, at least to a degree. Anobis' economy was booming. Mines were at full production and crop production was at an all time high since the disappearance of the Iridonian Empire. While the Sith'ari obviously cared little for the citizens of Anobis, he needed them. To do the everyday tasks of supplying an Empire. Being a Nightsister from Dathomir, Cera had been handpicked to govern Anobis due to her cruelty and her cold, calculating intelligence.
"Settle down, the lot of you. Your squabbling is ever so tiresome. And pathetic. The Sith'ari has brought prosperity back to Anobis, as he said he would. And that's as far as he is contractually obligated to go. So I suggest you learn to live with it, lest you want to feel my wrath. Failing that, the Sith'ari himself will deal with you. And he's not nearly as...gentle as I am. Dismissed"
Many of those seated at the table looked as though they were going to speak up, but the glare from Cera seemed to make them reconsider. Keeping the populace of Anobis firmly under her thumb was enjoyable. Having been granted the authority to handle matters as she saw fit unless it conflicted with the Sith'ari's grand scheme, Anobis would continue to function, remain prosperous and produce whatever the Blackguard needed.
|
|
|
Post by Captain Azkul Travillius on Feb 25, 2020 22:47:25 GMT -8
Anobis - Governor's Palace. 103rd Regiment - Wick Battalion.
Led by Lieutenant-Colonel Amara Roslin, Wick Battalion had called the Governor's Palace home. Protecting Governor Cera Volkin, the local Blackguard battalion ensured the saftey of the delegates that resided within. They also aided local law enforcement when called upon. Ensuring the Imperium's laws were up held to the fullest extent. Though Governor Volkin's iron-fisted rule of the planet ensured the local populace resisted as little as possible. Regardless of the governor's rule, Wick Battalion continued to do its job.
|
|
|
Post by Captain Azkul Travillius on Apr 16, 2020 11:42:32 GMT -8
Anobis - Governor's Palace. 103rd Regiment - Wick Battalion.
Continuing to fulfill their duties to the Imperium, order and prosperity continued on Anobis. Governor Volkin's iron-fisted rule ensured that there were no elements bold enough to rise against her, and the presence of fully armed and armored Sith Troopers deterred any from actively trying. Sure, there was the odd commotion here and there among the local populace, but local law enforcement agencies handled that, only calling on the might of the 103rd if things really escalated.
|
|
Darth Craxious
The Sith Eternal
Posts: 80
Affiliation: Clan Savage
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Darth Craxious on Oct 9, 2020 0:51:34 GMT -8
The blasters went quiet after the brawl. The guns of the walkers cooled while the stormtroopers executed the surviving defenders.
"Traitor!"
Said one of them as he shot a fallen soldier on the ground. The commander, a Seniteen male wearing a plastoid armor, in black, walked into the palace.
"Report"
"Enemy cassualties high. Part of the garrison refused to yield. They were executed, as instructed. We lost twenty five men"
"Good. But the losses were significant. Next time do it better or Lord Vallius shall deal with you, personally"
"Yes sire"
Said the man behind the stormtrooper's helmet, emotionless. The Seniteen produced a datapad from his robes, followed by a pair of tall robotic attendants and bodyguards. He took seat on the governor's table, the chair still occupied by the now dead former recipient of the governorship. Krajesh started to review data. He was now governor of Anobis in the name of Vallius, his Sith master and overlord. The figures of the planet were on point. The domain was enough to sustain a potent government, independent and strong enough. His master would be pleased.
|
|
Nem Yin
The First Order
The dark expanse of the intergalactic void is not as empty as they would have you believe...
Posts: 439
Affiliation: The First Order
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Nem Yin on Oct 14, 2022 8:56:46 GMT -8
Location: Anobis (Agri-world) | Safaeyet (Capital) | Governor's House
Short and squat chazrachs carried in boxes and all manner of bio-engineered furniture into a plain house on the southern side of Safaeyet, marked for habitation by the planet's new First Order governor, Nem of Domain Yin. The Yuuzhan Vong in question was standing in the middle of the front hall, supervising as the stout bodied reptilians unloaded his personal effects into his new domicile. It was a far stretch from the seedy little apartment he and Xarl had shared on Byss, though at the same time more quaint then his posh residence on Imperial Center. He rested his naked hands on the hips of his cloaker, peering around the room with grafted eyes that shone a brilliant emerald green, likes gemstones set in a corpse.
At first he had been reluctant to assume governorship of the planet. After all, there was already a small population of humans and zabrak living here that no doubt had their own feelings about having a Yuuzhan Vong being placed in charge of their day to day lives. Fortunately their opinions meant little to him. He hadn't taken the job for their sake. He was doing this for the chazrachs. For too long they had resided as indentured servants to his people, who had taken them with them when they fled the devastation of their home galaxy. That act hadn't been magnanimous, but cruel, for the next several thousand years the race of reptoids had served as slave fodder for the Yuuzhan Vong Empire's relentless war machine. Having them remain on Zonama Sekot had been a constant reminder of the level of depravity his people had eventually sunk to. While obviously there was much to atone for, the spiritual healing required demanded a bit of separation between the two. Hence, when given the opportunity to create a place for the chazrachs, he had jumped at the chance.
Stepping into his new office, Nem's dark purple eye sacs pulse with the rhythm of his heartbeat, quickening as he rested his weary mqaaq'it on several mementos from the past. His lips parted in a facsimile of an infidel smile as he saw the framed letter of marque he had been given by the Imperial Knight Xeonon Solomon so many years prior, before the First Order was anything more than a simple idea. Things had been more dangerous, more chaotic back then, but also easier. One could forget their guilt when survival was in question. Now that events had calmed, well, he had too much time to think frankly. He could do with a little less spare time in his schedule. Next he rested the spindly fingers of his hand on a worn lightsaber hilt. It had belonged to a Jedi whose name escaped him currently. During his time aboard the Cutlass as Captain Arkan's second, they had encountered a Jedi starfighter and managed to disable it. Nem's job had been to subdue the Jedi inside, not an easy feat, mind you. Somehow he had managed and the unfortunate lass had ended up in the brig. He wondered what had happened to her. When Nem had left the Bloodrage Pirates to attend to matters of his own people, he had left her behind to whatever fate the captain saw fit for her. He hoped he had eventually let her go. Arkan could be a bastard at times, but he wasn't a monster, no matter his protests to the contrary.
As he came to stand by the window, he picked up a sealed scroll of ornate parchment that had been signed by both the Praetorite and the Chiss Ascendency, a document known as the Treaty of Lwhekk. He brought it beneath his stub like nose and took a sniff. He swore it still smelled like Prarr'ebecc'aelios' perfume. She had been an absolute treasure to deal with, which was why he was somewhat saddened to see that the Ascendency was no more. Still, her replacement Nytherias Nuruodo of the Sword and Shield Dominion seemed a respectable enough fellow. He hoped there was never cause to come to conflict with them, though he couldn't say what the First Order's plans were going forwards. He had only the Emperor's ear, never his lips. Maybe it was time to pay the Grand Admiral on Ilum another visit. Perhaps she'd let something slip after a few glasses of sparkbee honey. Putting the document back down in its place-holder, he moved behind his desk and took a seat on the thorn-polyp there. Stabbing jolts of pleasurable pain went up his backside as the vampiric seat set its fangs into his posterior, supping on his salty black vitae.
Leaning back in the seat, he rolled a few Yuuzhan joints on the desk and brought one to his lips, igniting the tip with an ignition biot concealed in his thumb. Taking a long drag, he placed the joint on an ash tray and rested his hands on his stomach, interlocking his fingers as he stared up at the ceiling and began to day dream of a peaceful and prosperous future.
|
|
Nem Yin
The First Order
The dark expanse of the intergalactic void is not as empty as they would have you believe...
Posts: 439
Affiliation: The First Order
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Nem Yin on Oct 17, 2022 5:23:25 GMT -8
Outside his home beneath the hill, Nem was down on one knee making a few final adjustments to his yorik-vec, a qahsa device in his hands as he ran through the last minute calibrations. His emerald green mqaaq'it looked the organic tablets screen up and down, checking the bio-circuit readings for anything out of the ordinary. Both his handheld device and the implant in his brain were neuro-linked to the Bleeding Orifice's navi-brain and nervous system, essentially the Yuuzhan Vong version of slave controls. With a telepathic command from his villip, he was able to manipulate the transports dovin basal array, lava cannon turrets, and almost every other primary system. He hadn't set up controls like this on a ship since the Turbulent Tide when he first met Makai all those years ago. He wondered what had become of the slayer. It was clear from the moment they had met that there was no love lost between them, but the galaxy could be a cruel place for a Yuuzhan Vong on his own, assuming you could call the heretical creation that. Most of the Executor's misgivings came from the fact that he was still bitter and remorseful for Shimraa's actions during the war. If Nem had only acted sooner, perhaps things would have gone differently. He forced the thought aside and made a few taps on the tablets screen before standing up, easing the tension out of his strained knee joints.
"She's good to go." He stated aloud, for no ones sake but his own. He only rested his hands on his hips for just long enough to admire his work, then turned a shoulder and headed back inside the quaint chazrach hole he had shaped for himself. Stripping out of his robes, he slipped into the shower and stroked the biots reflex with a twist of a tooth like handle, opening the sphincter above his head and allowing the living creation to pour a filtered deluge of frigid water down onto his naked flesh. He scoured his scarred tissue with a pumice rock, dragging it over his thickened corpse grey skin and exposed bits of calcified bone. Veins stood out on his arms and chest, espousing the strain he had recently placed his body under. Everything was lean and tightly packed muscle, his body like that of a bissop at the starting gate, ready to run. Or was it fear? His lips twisted upwards in a mocking sneer and he let the cold waters run across his teeth, cooling him inside and out. When he was finished with the stone he replaced it on a ledge and turned the water off, stepping out onto a puckered mat that began slurping up the liquid dripping off of him. He then grabbed a robeskin towel off the wall and finished the rest off with quick rub all over until he felt completely dry.
Emerging from the bathroom, the intendant went over to his dresser and removed a molted ball of flesh that was in actuality a condensed cloaker of his own personal design. He bent over and placed the ball on the ground and stroked a concealed reflex hidden in its folds. The ball began to tremble then untangle, latching itself first to the Executor's feet before slithering up his legs and chest, wrapping his entire body save for his face in a layer of living tissue that connected to his own nervous system with symbiotic cilia that painfully embedded themselves in the pores of his skin. His body felt lighter and harder at the same time as it bonded with the suit of second skin, swathing his lean frame in a jet black material that seemed to swallow the light around it. If he wanted to he could change the outer hue with a thought, as the symbiotic layer was covered in photosensitive bacteria that could bend light at will, making the wearer appear invisible. For now though he kept it black, which suited his dour mood as his thoughts turned back towards the mission.
Next he entered his arming chamber where he found the tools of his trade. Nem reached to a ledge and removed a sheathed dagger biot known as a coufee. Sliding the serrated edged eel from its yorik scabbard, he flipped it over in his hand a few times, testing the balance and weight. As usual, Shem-Sho was perfectly honed, so he slipped it back into its sheath and adhered the scabbard to the right side of his hip, the left already occupied with a robeskin satchel full of a few other effects, such as his pipe and a couple varieties of nang hul. He fastened a plasma eel around his waist, using it more as a belt than the guided rocket it was designed to be. Finally he found his amphistaff napping on a shelf, its stomach sated by the rodents it had cleared out of the larder. The serpent hissed at Nem drew near, exposing its fangs and gleaming red eyes, though none of this perturbed the intendant in the slightest. Without hesitation he grabbed the lethal biot in both hands and slid a thumb over its control reflex, sending an electric signal to its nervous system that caused the serpent to grow rigid and assume its quarter staff form. Like a troll turned to stone by the light of day, Shem-Veesu's protestations were silenced as its body was locked into place. The intendant used the amphistaff like a walking stick as he left the arming chamber and exited his house.
Outside he was met by four chazrachs from the village. Each was wearing a simple robeskin tunic, their claws grimy from field work and digging in the dirt. Nem's ocular implants shone a little brighter as he rested his mqaaq'it on them, setting the butt end of his staff into the ground and leaning against its hardened length. His dark puple eye sacs puffed in amusement. "Here to see me off? Good lads, the lot of you. Keep the hearth warm and the fields plowed." He looked up at the sky, noting the rainclouds off in the distance. "Anobis will take care of the rest. And help yourselves to the dried herb in the pantry." Their unintelligible reptilian eyes seemed to widen at that prospect. Everyone knew the intendant kept a stockpile of Ossus Kush in his private stores. Nem cursed as the foursome ran passed him into the house, immediately seeking to raid his stash. "Greedy buggers. Ha." He muttered with a harsh bark of laughter.
Finally he boarded his ship and took the Bleeding Orifice through its startup sequence, awakening all vital systems with a mental command via his command villip, rather than through the use of a cognition hood. Outside the air gusted around as gravity waves were manipulated to raise the yorik-vec off the ground. It hovered several feet off the drive way before turning and angling its clawed bow upwards towards the sky. Once the intendant was seated in the cognition throne in the cockpit area, he rested a hand on the accelerator reflex and kneaded the control with his fingers, sliding the ship forwards at first then quickly gaining speed. Once a few hundred yards from Safaeyet, he really gunned the accelerator and the gunship streaked at full speed up into the sky, disappearing above the clouds as it headed out of the planet's atmosphere on a course for orbit, then deep space.
|
|
Nem Yin
The First Order
The dark expanse of the intergalactic void is not as empty as they would have you believe...
Posts: 439
Affiliation: The First Order
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Nem Yin on Apr 3, 2023 6:07:43 GMT -8
Continued from here.Nem continued the conversation as he led Esthh inside the quaint little home beneath the hill. Named Mag End after the Maggins family of human colonists that had constructed the cottage, one could tell at first glance that this tiny residence was lived in. More interestingly was the architecture, which seemed a blend of Yuuzhan Vong and rustic infidel design. Yorik-coral served as a border in some sense between where the two unique styles were joined, almost as if the house had been split in two. In truth, Nem had incorporated many elements of his peoples technology, which was beginning to grow over the original structure. In another year, perhaps there would be no visible elements of an infidel structure at all. Already the steady incursion of coral creeping over the floorboard could be seen. Upon reaching the sealed hatch-sphincter to his office, the Executor extended a hand towards an olfactory sensor grown into the side of the door. Pressing his middle finger into the center of his palm, the layer of second skin from the Intenant's cloaker peeled from his hand half way up his forearm. Like his face the exposed flesh was grey, though etched between risen crisscrossing veins were visible lines of tattooing, depicting several spiralling tendrils that looked like they could have belonged to a yammosk. He pressed his wrist to the olfactory sensor, allowing it to detect the passage pheremone secreted there. With a wet squelch the hatch-sphincter dilated, admitting the two Yuuzhan Vong to Nem's office."Curiosity, and caution." He smirked. Due to his many years spent living among infidels, the Intendant had picked up quite a few habits and quirks that were decidedly non-Yuuzhan Vong, such as certain facial expressions that were uncommon to their own people. "You hadn't mentioned them in recounting your ordeal in the Unknown Regions. I wondered if perhaps that was intentional, but as you've explained, you were assigned elsewhere. For my part..." He placed the same naked hand to his chest that he had used to open the door, over where his heart should be, but wasn't. "...they are always on my mind. A species capable of creating a bioweapon deadly to all Yuuzhan Vong life requires keeping a close eye on, especially given the proximity of their territory to Zonama Sekot, where the bulk of our people still reside since the war's end."Like the rest of the domicile, the office was a small space where the elements of Yuuzhan Vong architecture seemed to have expanded from. On the backwall there was a large translucent membrane serving as a window that overlooked the vegetable garden outside. A coral desk with a qahsa device built into it was placed in front of the view. There were two thorn seats, one behind the desk and one in front of it, set beside a chair of infidel design that appeared to have been crafted from harvested wood. Spiny braziers hung from the ceiling, providing light from burning coals that gave off a sweet smelling smoke as the burned a herb with links to their long lost home-world, now in a galaxy far far away. Busy shelves lined the walls, holding various artifacts and trophies from the Executor's adventures in infidel space. There was a rolled scroll of ornate parchment, a Jedi lightsaber, several infidel picto-graphs of a random assortment of aliens. A robeskin flag hung from one wall, depicting the Yuuzhan Vong symbol for the bissop, which was also the emblem of Domain Yin. Nem motioned to the seats in front of the desk with a wave of his arm, before seating himself in the thorn-seat behind it. Its sharp protrusions pricked his backside and posterior through the layer of second skin, sending a pleasant rivulet of pain through his flesh."I've taken steps over the years to prevent any misunderstanding." Placing his elbows on the desks rigid coral surface, he clasped the spindly digits of his hands together and flicked a finger towards the rolled scroll on the side wall. "They used to call themselves the Chiss Ascendency. The Praetorite I represent...represented, formed a peace treaty with the Ascendency. For their part, the Chiss honoured their word; however, when I returned from the hiatus I previously mentioned, I found that the government occupying Chiss space had changed. They now call themselves the Sword and Shield Dominion, an isolationist faction, as I understand it. I spoke with their leader, Field Marshal Nytherias Nuruodo, in one of the domed cities on the Chiss home-world. I'm not sure who else of our kind can claim the same." It was less a bold claim and more a simple statement of fact. "They were receptive to our wishes to continue peaceful co-existence in the Unknown Regions. It would seem they mostly wish to be left alone."He failed to mention that he had placed a few Yuuzhan Vong agents among their people in disguise, though to be fair he hadn't told anyone else about that either. It was a political disaster waiting to happen, but also necessary, as he saw it. Trust, it was not a speciality of Domain Yin."In the past others of our kind, usually in the form of disillusioned warmasters, have sought conflict with them." He untwined his fingers to reveal a coufee in his right hand, seeming to materialize as if from thin air. He rested the pommel end of the hilt against his right index digit and the blade's razor tip against his left, with the edge of the organic dagger pointed towards the ceiling. "Balancing peace with the potential threat they present is like walking along a coufees edge. At this time, conflict from that quarter would be disastrous. I just wanted to be sure you had no intentions towards that end." He allowed the tip of the blade to drop and spun the coufee once in his hand, before bringing his palms together. When they parted, the serrated edged knife was gone, vanished by slight of hand. Nem reached under his desk and retrieved two full bladder-flasks. He put one on the desk and pushed it towards Esthh. "Sparkbee honey? I brewed this batch myself."
|
|
|
Post by Esthh Krazhmir on Apr 3, 2023 13:45:48 GMT -8
Esthh accepted one of the preferred bladder flasks, he hadnt had much of the more desirable confections for many long years. They had simply not had the time or resources that it took.
“The Chiss are always ones to be watched, though if they are willing to leave our people alone I have no reason at this time to seek violence against them.”
He took a drink and enjoyed the slight burn of the sparkbee honey beverage. He had almost forgotten the taste and sensation of it.
“Creating a fire, isnt the same as being able to contain one. Biological weapons have a tendency to move beyond the purpose that is intended. There were rumors that a test showed this on a planet but I don’t know of the details. The species that I found the most dangerous was the Ssi-ruuk. Not because they were particularly crafty or strong but the...technology…” the word was almost spit out of his mouth, not that he was against technology aside from his upbringings, after all if the gods weren’t real then technology in and of itself was not evil...how far it was allowed to mimic life...that was another question. “They powered their droids with living beings, their essences sucked from their living bodies to power dead technology. The nightmare of nightmares. I am glad that I had a hand in their internal divisions.” He took another mouthful of the sparkbee honey and swallowed looking at the bladder flask as he found another thorn chair to sit on.
“I have no need to look for trouble. I have already found it. I doubt that it can be stopped in my lifetime should it decide to come for all the beings in this galaxy. We fled our galaxy after we drove mechanical species from it, after our ancestors destroyed too many planets to keep living there. The intergalactic winds…” His maa’its flicked up to Nen Yin’s. “What if the mechanics that fled our forefathers, rode those same winds that we did? I ask this...because I have witnessed mechanicals that are the size of a planet. And not just one. I have found a number of them scattered throughout the Unknown Regions. Carefully looking over reports of such incidences I have found other similarities and reports concerning other giant mechanicals that have a different design.”
Another pull of the sparkbee honey.
“So no. I have no need to make war on anyone. My sole goal at the moment is readying my people for something that could end this galaxy just like it did ours. I doubt that I can make my people ready, not in my lifetime, maybe not in ten or twenty lifetimes. I don’t know if combined with the military powers of this galaxy could we stand. Our people did it once, but we were many then and of a single mind. Now we are few, scattered, shattered, hated, and full of infighting. The powers of this galaxy...who knows if anything they do would prepare them.” He paused for a moment. “And what if these mechanicals learned of the Ssi-ruuk entechment…?” He let that thought hang in the air as his maa’its found something uninteresting on the front of Nen’s desk, unfocused, the skin around his eyes showing the emotions of the possibility of a dark future swirling through his thoughts.
|
|