Kel Sentriss
The Vegemite Enclave
Soon.
Posts: 174 
Affiliation: The Second Imperium
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Post by Kel Sentriss on Aug 18, 2013 20:35:02 GMT -8
(Name of Work) Diatribes on the Sith - Principal Authors: (list)
- Who can post on this thread: (list)
- I want to receive critical responses: Y/N
- I will be using standard Universe rules here (e.g., canon-only, fleet limits, etc.): Y/N
N/A Location: Unknown Timeframe: ~44 ABY (Abstract or Summary of Work) Darth Archais at last has a listener against which to describe his views on the Sith, and the role of Force-users in general. |
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Kel Sentriss
The Vegemite Enclave
Soon.
Posts: 174
Affiliation: The Second Imperium
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Kel Sentriss on Nov 1, 2013 22:22:00 GMT -8
You awaken.
The first thing you are aware of is darkness, and pain. You feel your eyes open, blink, bleary, but no light reaches you as you inhale sharply against the pain wracking your head. A moment of fog, of unknowing, and of raw animal desperation grips you, but you are able to still your thoughts and localize the pain. Your jaw, nose, right cheek. Your leg, and one shoulder. Ribs, and it hurts to breathe. Aches nearly everywhere, sharper pain the likely indication of broken bones, torn muscle and tendon. The chafing at your wrists is different, you are bound. The pressure on your backside is the pressure of a chair, letting your feet rest on the floor. You try to lift your head and your neck protests, but you are able to cast your gaze about, slowly, though your location or state are not elucidated upon.
A cough wracks you, and the fire that erupts from your damaged chest is unbearable. This prompts a few grunts as you try to calm your breathing, but your lungs fight for air as your conscious mind wills their stop. Finally, you are able to slow your breathing so that your chest is a dull ache. You are certain you feel wetness upon your lips - you are nearly as certain that it is blood.
You do not know where you are. You do not know how you got here. You close your eyes and try to think, to remember. The last thing you recall is waiting with...others. Friends.
Jedi.
You are a Jedi. You forget other details at the moment, but the fact that you are a Jedi rings as truly to your identity as your own name. To you, this is significant. You press harder, and the memories form through the mists. You waited in a vehicle, others nearby, waiting for...a man. An evil man. One man responsible for countless deaths and untold destruction, and who planned more. He'd evaded you for a time, but you'd at last received information suggesting his location, and the Council had sanctioned...what? An ambush! There had been disagreements, some said it wasn't the Jedi way, but the Council had at last agreed that an ambush to incapacitate the...the Sith!...and bring him to justice. Of course, a Sith Lord would scarcely surrender, and so the unspoken implication had hung in the air like the stench of day-old nerf.
It had been an assassination mission all along.
One that had been bungled, if your current state was any indication. By now, your mind was sharp enough to begin to shift your wrists this way and that, testing the bonds. They were hempen, so perhaps if-
Your thought is interrupted by the suddenly blaze of light into the room from the door that had opened, looking to you as a simply white square against the pitch-black darkness of your chamber. Cooler air wafted in, and with it the smells and sounds of a starship. That helped to clarify your location, if only slightly. You squint your eyes, trying to peer into the light, but your eyes have not begun to adjust. After a moment, a figure appears in the doorway and moves in. A second, a third, and a fourth all file in with the stepping precision of trained military. The four say nothing, but you feel them turn to face you, and after a pause, a fifth enters the doorway.
The darkness radiating from him seeps into the room, filling the nooks and crannies of the sparse chamber like water filling a jug. It doesn't seek these areas out, nor does it consciously expand itself - it is simply its nature to do so, and it does it with scientific efficiency. The man stands in the doorway for a moment, his head turned to the side just so...as if studying you. Your eyes have adjusted enough to make out his black attire, and the swish of lighter hair and light skin are evident. At last, you hear something like a croak, and hear the slightest of whispers emit from his mouth.
"Lights at thirty percent."
In response, your room brightens enough for you to see by, but not much more, perhaps to protect your still-faint eyesight. The fact that one half of your vision remains bleak indicates that there is swelling around one eye, the same side as your pained face. You cast your gaze about, trying to get an idea of who is holding you. The four around you are nondescript, faces expressionless, all human. Standard uniform, armed. The one in the doorway, though, is different. Different attire, hair loose, stance more casual but hinting at a militant training. You seem to recognize him, but can't place where. The pale skin, the gray-white hair. Black greatcoat. Lightsaber clearly hanging at his belt. The scar racing along his cheek, across the eye, to the forehead. Another from the corner of his mouth and down, locking one half of his face in a perpetual frown. The whispering voice. The man tilts his head another degree, and utters another whisper.
"You remember me."
With a click, your memory lights into focus again, and you recall who he is. Your target. The Sith Lord.
Darth Archais.
Leader of the Sith insurgency group calling themselves the Second Imperium. Rumored to have resources at his disposal almost too great to tabulate, master politician, economist, tactician. One of the most severe threats to face the Jedi in an age. You feel your mouth working to create sound, but the pain around your mouth prevents you from moving in a coherent way. The man steps into the room fully, his croak again loosed from his lips. You realize that, accompanied with the shake of his shoulders, it is laughter. His head rights itself, and you feel the Force stir around you as it whirls in on him. Your feelings are drawn to his throat, and you feel the Force solidify itself there as he speaks again.
"Leave us."
His voice is strong now, rich. You are inclined to hang on his words, as if he is speaking through the Force itself. Perhaps he is. The soldiers comply, leaving with the same precision with which they entered. As they exit, one stops at his master's side, and the Sith Lord removes his lightsaber from his hip, dropping it into the soldier's hand. The soldier nods and leaves, and the door clangs to shut behind him in ominous fashion. He stands a moment with you in the murk before wordlessly moving behind you. You hear a scrape, and he enters your field of vision with a chair, which he places on the ground in front of you. He seats himself rigidly, and you see the gleam in his eyes as he speaks to you once again.
"Doubtless you have questions, and you're almost certainly in quite a deal of pain. Your answers may come to you if you have the patience to earn them, but let us make one thing very clear between us. You will not be leaving this room alive."
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Kel Sentriss
The Vegemite Enclave
Soon.
Posts: 174
Affiliation: The Second Imperium
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Kel Sentriss on Nov 4, 2013 12:32:16 GMT -8
"Doubtless you have questions, and you're almost certainly in quite a deal of pain. Your answers may come to you if you have the patience to earn them, but let us make one thing very clear between us. You will not be leaving this room alive."
His words hang in the air like smoke, clouding your mind and cutting to your core. That much had been more or less known to him already, as it wasn't exactly common practice for Sith to release Jedi prisoners. He clearly wanted something, or he'd have killed you already. Particularly in your weakened state, not that you were ever a veteran hand with a lightsaber in the first place. This left the question, uttered by you through your ruined mouth:
"Why am I here?"
The Sith Lord gave a slightly frown, turning his head slightly as if chewing on the question. After a moment, he responded.
"A fair first question. Before I answer, hear my proposition. I could have killed you at any point before we took you from the attack site, and even now I wouldn't need either a weapon or the Force to snuff you out. You know this. There is a reason you are useful to me now, and that is why we are speaking. Bear in mind this preference does not constitute need, but it does represent a convenience for me to obtain things that will be beneficial to me in the future. To that end, I am prepared to strike a deal with you that may represent your salvation."[/color]
You regard the Sith through hazy vision, trying to pierce the aura of darkness around him to sense any duplicity. Feeling none, though, does not surprise you - any number of reasons could leave you unable to read what may be there in the first place. He continues speaking.
"What I propose is something of a debate. We will alternate posing questions to one another, whether they be tactical, philosophical, personal, or any variety of those. There will be no safeguards against falsifying information in our answers, but if I suspect you are misleading me or deliberately occluding an answer, I may simply decide to kill you before we're finished. I, on the other hand, have little reason to lie to you. As I said, you will die in this room, and any truths I tell you will die with you.
Questions, though, will come at a price."
He produced a sinister-looking object from within his jacket, and commanded the lights raised further. The item quickly becomes evident as a sheathed dagger, lined with intricate designs and apparently ceremonial in nature.
"This dagger is one I've found in my travels, native to a secluded temple on Dromund Kaas. Although it was dry when I found it, its etchings describe a procedure to capture a local species of lizard and extract a purified neurotoxin that coats the blade. When coated in the toxin, this blade causes a pain like no other, even upon superficial cuts. From my research, it seems this blade was used in some manner of trial to determine the stronger of two combatants, and in our case will be used to judge our combat of words."
In punctuation, he draws the dagger from its sheathe. In the low light, you can see a faint purple coloration, and its slimy appearance confirms that its poison coating is indeed present. Its blade was serrated, and a small black jewel was set in the pommel. Ina ll, it was less than a foot in length, but it still felt...odd. It emanated coldness, and the Force wrapped around it like the claws of some terrible beast of the galaxy. You swallow nervously, flinching at the pain, but speak once more.
"What's in it for me?"
He expresses something like a short laugh, and responds, turning the dagger this way and that like a butcher examining his implements before a cutting.
"Among other things? Answers, for one. The Jedi Code cites that in absence of ignorance, you seek knowledge. Isn't that the key to defeating any enemy? Was your mission against me not one to kill? How could you fathom being able to kill me without knowing every minute detail about me? The fact that you Jedi know nothing about me is why your sixth discreet attempt to stop me has failed, and why they will continue to do so. Moreover...
The human body - or near-human, in my case - can only take so much pain before unconsciousness is induced due to either sensory overload or the mind's defense of its own integrity kicks in. If you are able to withstand more knife cuts than I, I may pass out, leaving you alone, unbound, with a poisoned knife and in front of the prone body of one of the most notorious threats to the Jedi Order and galaxy at large. Enticing, isn't it? And after that, maybe you have just enough guile to sneak off the ship and return to the Council with any interesting facts you glean from our conversation. Play my game and you will have your chance at freedom and a distinct opportunity to end my organization's shadow campaign across the galaxy once and for all."
It is a fool's chance, you know, and a stacked deck from the beginning. You clearly have much in the way of physical trauma, while he is likely rested and able-bodied. However...a Jedi's life is sacrifice, you yourself have preached, and though the chance of your escape is so remote as to be inconsequential, it is a chance worth chasing. You know that if you refuse, you will die on the spot.
You bat it around in your mind, and with a shaky nod, you assent. Archais makes a motion, and you hear a click followed by your cuffs dropping from your wrists and to the floor. You quickly bring them in front of you, rubbing your chafed wrists as you look to your captor.
"Alright. How do we start?"
He offers you the once-again sheathed knife, hilt first, with a satisfied smile and a sardonic look in his eye.
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