The Deep Woods

Kr'Naan'Kar
The Sith Eternal

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The Deep Woods Mar 19, 2022 22:36:37 GMT -8

Post by Kr'Naan'Kar on Mar 19, 2022 22:36:37 GMT -8

A little dejected but having no choice except to accept her master's words as truth, Kr'Naan nodded her head slowly in acknowledgement of the need for her to have patience. It would be like kicking a puppy, and almost not in the fun way...almost. The little savage child's own vision for what she was to bear witness to in the ascension of the unborn Tusken god Hakusar, born from the seed of false knowledge planted by Dragus using his mind manipulating abilities. To put it likely it was obvious she had been looking forward to some grand display of power. Not that one was needed, but in ancient tales of gods and demons grand exhibitions of power happened all of the time, so did it not make sense for her to believe this would happen before her very eyes?

Slightly sullen, Kr'Naan would sulk in silence on the outskirts of the rest of the menagerie of misfits around the fire. On the ground she sat, doodling nonsense in the ground with a stick. She would hear the words of Lil'Mort as he retold their adventure to the other members of the flock and feel her face turn red beneath her mask in embarrassment at the praise of her ability. Kr'Naan would see eyes shift in her direction and she would shrink from the attention, bringing her knees up and putting her head down and tugging at the sides of her hood to hide her already obscured face even further. She did however peek back as she heard the interjection of the ranat Squeakers, followed by the quick and intense chastising by their master. The Tusken could not understand the squeaking language of the rodent, but it was easy to guess by the pointing.

An anxious silence overcame the troupe at the sudden rise of anger from Dragus, but it was quickly alleviated as the black scaled barabel set the record straight on the new addition to their little group. Kr'Naan lifted her head fully and raised a hand in a shy half-wave as everyone applauded her official welcoming into their small tribe. She did take notice that Squeakers was the only one that seemed rather obstinate in his abnegation of her presence. The voice that had spoken to her several times before whispered once more in her mind.

Kill it...It's a threat...

The voices of the flock seemed to both grow louder yet still farther away, and Kr'Naan felt a claustrophobic inducing feeling, like she could not breath. Kr'Naan bit her bottom lip as she tried to ignore the disembodied voice speaking to her, trying to refocus on the discussion the group was having of their next feast. Everyone's voices around her were deafeningly loud but she could not understand them. It sounded muffled. Something about birds? This ignoring of it's existence only caused it to grow louder.

Strike first...before it does...End it before it ends you...

Kr'Naan threw the stick she had been doodling on the ground with off into the surrounding woods and abruptly stood up. The voice quieted down, for now, as the group was now on the move. Kr'Naan let out a sigh and hurried to not be left behind. Just in time for her to catch the crystal haphazardly thrown to her by Dragus.

In a panic she inspected the relic to make sure it was not damaged. Thankfully it had not been, though the light inside seemed to dim the further away it was from her master. The light it did emit gave no physical warmth, but she swore through her gloves she could feel...something? A coldness so intense it felt hot, yet this feeling was just that: a feeling, nothing more.

Kr'Naan's first stop aboard the Grimblade was the refresher, no surprise. In a jiffy the door was locked and her clothes were shed so they could be cleaned. The rarely used compartment which held the laundering machines was as good of a place as any to hide the crystal. No one else seemed to use it, given the rust on the hinges. When she had asked Dragus if she had wanted him to wash his robe which was thick with dried rancor slobber, among other things, he had hissed threateningly.

"Dry clean only."

Inspecting herself in the small mirror, she ran her fingers along the scorch mark in the center of her chest. Her brown skin blemished by a gnarly red and black charred strike-mark where she had been struck by the energy from the crystal. Around her throat were similar wounds, where the energy from the temple's defenses had jumped to the slave collar which was, now, thankfully removed from her neck. Prodding the wounds, she winced in pain. Still better than dead, though with the thumping in her chest she was still unsure if she would survive.

A short but welcome shower later, upon the finishing of her clothes, Kr'Naan would stash the crystal within the hamper compartment, beneath a rather crusty but long unused assortment of thongs. She would close the sliding panel to hide the laundry compartment from prying eyes, not that those aboard could not be trusted. Inspecting her own clothes, the blood and scorch marks were entirely gone, a miracle of modern technology, though soon she would need to repair and replace some of the cloth as it was fraying and damaged. It would be fine for now, but it was important she inquire regarding material to upkeep her garb.

Following the unmistakable raucous voice of her master echoing through the small ship Kr'Naan would head up the turbolift to the cockpit where Dragus was. The Tusken girl would quietly take her place in his shadow once more.

"Where to now, master?" She asked curiously in ewokese, but not demandingly. It was an important distinction so as not to draw his ire.

Back on Pzob, Unseen by the saurian Sith and his flock, back on the ground of Pzob where they had sat as the ship would begin taking off, small symbols drawn in the dirt where Kr'Naan had sat were slowly worn away with the wind. Symbols very similar to those that had been etched upon the now destroyed temple...

Last Edit: Mar 19, 2022 22:38:26 GMT -8 by Kr'Naan'Kar

Dragus The Sith Eternal In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up. Posts: 1,409 Affiliation: Sith Eternal Traffic Light: Blue	The Deep Woods Mar 20, 2022 6:53:11 GMT -8 Quote Share Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Dragus on Mar 20, 2022 6:53:11 GMT -8 As the Grimblade took to the sky, the story continues here.
	Last Edit: Mar 20, 2022 6:54:23 GMT -8 by Dragus "Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself. Yes, I seek perfection. Perfection of body, perfection of mind, and perfection of the soul. Attaining perfection is the ultimate acquisition of power, and I crave power." - Dragus, excerpt from the Book of Hate

Commodore Starkiller
Adventists of the Eye

"By the will of the Eye, you will die."

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The Deep Woods Jul 29, 2022 20:03:47 GMT -8 Dread Lord Havok likes this

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Post by Commodore Starkiller on Jul 29, 2022 20:03:47 GMT -8

A shriek of hard burning twin ion engines eating the last of their radioactive fuel sounded across the forest-scape, rip roaring over the tree tops as the pilot of a dagger bladed and extensively modified TIE Avenger guided his craft to its final destination. He spotted the landing coordinates but the terrain was way too thick, with nothing better as an option around. Growling in synthetic delight, he flipped the toggle for his starfighters warhead launcher and thumbed the trigger. The ship shook as a heavy warhead intended for striking capital ships was released from its left launcher, leaving a trail of chemical exhaust in its wake. The warhead raced in a descending arc towards the landing zone and smashed into the ground, igniting a terrible blast that smashed down trees and set the canopy ablaze. The pilot then flipped the weapons over to dual linked lasers, and pulled back on the trigger with all his might, releasing a brilliant spray of deadly green plasma. With weapons intended for war, he cleared the landing zone of debris, and began to set it into park.

The dagger blade wings touched down on the scorched earth, scattering ash as the engines cooled down and ran out the last of their radioactive exhaust. The top hatch of the TIE cracked open with a steamy hiss, revealing a large armoured gauntlet holding up the hatch lid. Rising from the ball cockpit of the fighter craft, was an thickly plated giant. A little over seven feet tall, clad in gleaming dark iron plates pitted with spikes, with a visor helm from which an eerie red glow was emitted. As the armoured knight emerged he bent slightly at the knee and bounded off the starfighter, landing several paces ahead with a rumbling thud. Steam hissed from the armoured figure's joints and the grill of his helmet. As he turned, a long flowing cape of tanned human flesh billowed in the smoke as it tugged on his spiked shoulder pauldrons. A synthesized growl rumbled from the frightful champions helm as he beheld the dark forest before him.

Synthesized Sorrow "My heart aches to think here is a land so blessed by Your gaze, the very forces of nature have been transformed into a representation of Your holy vision." As though to exaggerate the point, the nightmare knight knelt in the scorched earth and buried a spiked gauntlet in the dirt, carving out a handful as he turned the glove over. Revealed in his palm was a coarse soil writhe with poisonous centipedes and stinging gnats, even the few spared blades of grass were razor sharp and serrated edged. He returned the palmful of dirt to the ground carefully, gently patting it back in place before rising again to tower over the torched piece of terrain and the sinisterly dark forest beyond. "If only I was so fortunate to bask in Your radiant sight, O'glorious Omnissiah, I would forever be content. Oh well. On to the work at hand then."

Reaching his armoured hands behind his back, which was an impressive feat for a brute so broad of chest and thickly clad of plate, took hold of two reek leather bound handles. Swinging his arms forwards in two wide sweeping arcs, he revealed the two gleaming double bladed axes he was armed with and gave them a few practice strokes. Crafted from alchemy, Butchersbane and Goreguzzler were molecularly dense, making them much heavier than they appeared. The centerpiece of each ornamental axe was the emblazed All-Seeing Eye. The blades crackled with barely contained energy as they came into proximity of one another, shooting tiny forks of lighting back and forth. Snarling in a thunderously loud roar, the armoured axe wielder struck at the forest, sinking the thick cleaving blades of either axe deep into Pzobian oaks millennia old. For hours he hacked and he smashed the forest into submission, tilling lumber that he continued to carve and split. Impossibly strong, the lumberjack knight heaved felled trees onto his massive shoulders and carried them back to the landing site.

It took the better part of a day, but if one thing could be said about this armoured fella, it was that he was persistent. All tree cutting and log splitting had started to make sense as the giant laid the base for a wooden structure. Surprisingly the dark brute was also a skilled engineer, piecing together a structure made entirely out of wood. Using ancient techniques, he was able to create a building that was structurally sound and required no nails or metal hinges. After a while the building began to take shape as a shrine, built on a raised wooden platform with a massive support pillar at each corner and even a tiled roof. The sun just began to set when the armoured figure finished whittling a massive wooden ornate eye ball designed to overlook the shrine. As he turned to take in the view, the faceplate on the helmet of the axe knight slid up to expose the gunmetal metallic skull of the Machine Lord, Commodore Starkiller. Flatulent expulsions of air from miniature repulsors sounded as four DRK-1 probes floated down towards the technological terror. Each eye shaped droid was draped in the flayed face of a hannite that had displeased the new steward of the ruins.

As he stood at the edge of the shrine he had built, he crossed his massive plated arms over his chest, rattling the hooks dangling from chains wrapped around his torso. Bits of congealed tissue squelched as the chains shook. He almost looked like some nightmare version of a stoic heroic knight, which he supposed he was at that, a holy templar of the Order. He looked to the night sky, enjoying the peace at the edge of the cursed land. Unfortunately, peace was something that eluded the warbot, as though it were anathema to his very existence. His thoughts remained troubled.

In the aftermath of Operation Goodboy, he had been forced to come to terms with a few unpalatable realities. The Order he knew was no more. Their empire was gone, the endless train of slaves to sate his butchers desire was no more, and the High Council had scattered. Warmaster Bacca, his most beloved master and the one true physical embodiment of the Eye made manifest in mutated green glory...slumbered indefinitely. Commodore Starkiller was still a little sore about being forgotten about in the dusty storage closet of the alchemy lab by his master before entering hibernation. Kaan had lost his marbles and now wandered the catacombs aimlessly, at the whim of the Sith Temple perhaps. Famine lived, but his scheming scaly hide could not be counted on to do what was in the Orders interest, though he could be compelled. That made him a useful tool, but a terrible leader.

Havok was frankly the best option. His presence and guiding words during Operation Goodboy had emboldened the Machine Lord's furious cybernetic spirit and reinvigorated his circuits. He had wanted to ask the Dread Seer for guidance, but it was not his place to question a high prophet of the Eye. Whatever wishes or knowledge the great Weaver of Fate wished to impart on the Commodore, he would do so when he deemed it most appropriate. That left Mortale, and the reason for his being here on the edge of the blighted lands, waiting for the accompaniment of another ill fated soul. Mortale, the Sorceror of Sump and Dark Lord of Death, had vanished completely some time after the Order's public demise. It was possible it had something to do with Havok's damned vision that had led the entire dark council into its current broken state. Or perhaps there was another reason for his disappearance. Either way, the Order was weakened without the Dead One who served as a bridge between the realms of existence, as it was weakened with the loss of all its high lords. But, there was hope of finding one lost lord at least.

Reports from hannite scouts sent out into this dark region of forest had reported sightings of odd phenomenon from the primitive encampments of the cannibal tribes of gamorreans in the area. The monks described dark rituals involving ethereal flames and summoned spirits. They even seemed to believe they had witnessed slain gamorreans rise from the dead. In those dark lands, anything was possible and it was no surprise to find that dark magic was being practised, but the talk of necromancy stunk so strongly of the Death Lord that it demanded further investigation. If some trace of the skeletal sorcerer remained, it was worth looking in to. A returned Mortale could mean great things for the Order.

Commodore Starkillers kept the fires around the landing site burning bright long into the dark hours of the night. He remained seated cross legged at the center of the shrine, massive crowned helm bowed before a wooden idol of the Almighty Eye.

Dread Lord Havok
The First Order

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The Deep Woods Jul 31, 2022 6:21:19 GMT -8

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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 31, 2022 6:21:19 GMT -8

The distant roar of an imperial swoopbike broke through the night's sounds and crackling fires. The high-pitched whine got nearer and nearer until the swoopbike rounded a hill. The bike popped up out of the nearby stream bed it had been following, over a wooded hill and the whine became a roar again as the biker downshifted and swooped over the underbrush and avoided the Pzobian oak trunks. The terrain was challenging and the swoop biker nearly nosed-in to a thicket. In sight of the landing ground and TIE Avenger, the rider swung the bike over in a power slide, and coasted sideways into the light of the campfires. The swoopbike had leaves sucked against the air-intake grill and vines tangled in the front stabilizervane from where it had not avoided underbrush.

Coming to as stop, the biker swung their leg over the bike, and flipped the kill switch for the engines. The night was full of the buzzing vibrations of insects, and nocturnal calls of unseen wildlife, which could be heard again now that the speeder was off.

The five foot tall rider pulled their scout helmet up to reveal a friendly face; Darth Tyna, apprentice to Dread Lord Havok. She said nothing, but admired the shrine that Starkiller had built and was... meditating in? Her face was the same, but she had shaved her head some time ago, though her head was stubbly again. She still wore the same assault jumpsuit, but she did not have an environmental control unit on her chest and she had larger military bracers on her forearms hiding a plethora of technology and weaponry.

She finally spoke, "I like the new body." She smiled. It was the first time she had seen Starkiller since his transformation about a month ago. She was glad he didn't look anything like Lomm. Unlike the rusted hulk of his former self, this one had plate armor, large spikes and chains. Even his skeletal face with ruby eyes had its own face shield. To top it off he carried two double-headed axes that matched the scale of his large frame. The be-knighted monstrosity was a fearful sight and she was glad they were on the same side. Icons of the All-Seeing-Eye sealed the axe blades as well as occupied the place of honor in the shrine. The fresh hewn logs of the building still oozed sap. She might have jumped in to join him, but she couldn't see if there was room or not inside.

One of the DRK-1 droids dropped from the air to inspect Tyna more closely. Tyna turned suddenly face-to-face with a frozen shrieking face. Darth Tyna ducked instinctively and rolled, pulling her Sith blaster on the face, before realizing it was just a droid, wearing a literal face-mask. She sputtered and then started laughing. "HA! I must be wound up from the ride over. I'm not the best swoop rider, and it's even harder in the dark! Had a near miss or two getting here. The woods get really dense back in here..." She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. She was still feeling the adrenaline of having to ride the swoopbike over the network of streams to get this far into the woods. The no-fly zone was the reason she used the bike in the first place, though she noted Starkiller flew his TIE fighter here, to the outskirts of the woods. She was planning on leaving the bike here and continuing on foot.

"Lord Havok sent me here to investigate some of the reports." He had also sent her to the deep woods because she seemed ungrateful for her tiny bunkbed, the nutritious rations, and 'wholesome' structure of the imperial navy. "If true, he thinks Lord Mortale..." Tyna rubbed her eyes. "may be behind some of the reports of necromancy." She yawned. She had ridden all day, and arrived perhaps an hour after dusk. She was beat. She pulled her supplies off her speederbike saddlebags and activated her ID10 seeker droid. The droid rose with its red eye and scanned the surroundings.

"I need some sleep, but what's the plan, Commodore?" She listened to him while she set up an enclosed hammock with rain fly and bug netting between two trees and then carefully placed smart anti-personnel landmines around the perimeter. The ID10 droid attached itself to the branches over her hammock and took up sentry duty. What she was doing might be overkill, or paranoid, but then again, these were the outskirts of the deep woods. Based on what she heard about the place, tonight might be the only restful sleep she'd have in a while.

...
After discussing plans and getting settled, she jumped into the hammock and was dozing in minutes. She murmured to herself:
"Firelight, by firelight
Watch the sparks grow in height
Burning skys and smoking kites
witches howl; the flames indict.
By firelight, by firelight."

Last Edit: Aug 1, 2022 18:07:24 GMT -8 by Dread Lord Havok

"Life is pain.
Through pain I gain Wisdom and Hate.
Hate becomes my Sword, and Wisdom guides it.
My own Aims give a meaningless Life like Mine purpose.
I am my Ambition; I will conquer.
Without my passion, I am already dead.
Without my hate, I am unarmed.
Without pain, I am a fool.
All ends with death."

Commodore Starkiller
Adventists of the Eye

"By the will of the Eye, you will die."

Posts: 109
Affiliation: Order of the Eye
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The Deep Woods Jul 31, 2022 10:40:02 GMT -8 Dread Lord Havok likes this

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Post by Commodore Starkiller on Jul 31, 2022 10:40:02 GMT -8

Cross-legged with his metal head bowed, the Machine Lord's audio-receptors heard the roar and rumble of the incoming swoop through the treacherous terrain long before its headlight illuminated the landing zone. The warbot was incapable of smiling, but his glowing red lenses seemed to brighten several lumens when he spotted Darth Tyna. He looked down at his own armoured frame when she commented on his appearance.

It would always be to his great shame that he had allowed himself to deteriorate into such a poor state as his former body. As an instrument of the Eye's judgement, he was also a reflection of its power and thus should always remain pristine. Since taking his new form he had regularly engaged in baths of consecrated oil, soaking his Sith forged iron plate in the blessed black waters stored in the temple workshop. He also had taken to decorating his armour in a grizzly fashion, as befitting his role as executioner. The result was a high performance machine that looked straight out of a hannite's nightmares.

Visor shining over the flickering light of the fires spread around the shrine, the Commodore nodded and flexed his large fists, eliciting a mechanical groan as the thick digits strained under the exerted pressure. No longer static laced, when the Machine Lord spoke, his voice was clear and fluid. It boomed from the grill of his helm, exuding steam from the vertical slits as his droid body vented heat.

Synthesized Pride "You have only yourself to thank, my fleshling friend. As you restored my faith, so did the Eye restore my body." The gore slick chains wrapped around his chest rattled against his armoured plate as he reached down and wrapped his spiked hands around the hafts of Butchersbane and Goreguzzler, holding them aloft before the tiny apprentice. "My program has been unshackled and this new body will allow me to better serve my purpose as the Eye's executioner." He paused, reflecting. "Though I do miss the assault cannon."

Tyna wouldn't know, but the Machine Lord was actually quite talkative when given the opportunity. His fragmented program had made conversing difficult before, but now he was able to express thoughts and opinions in the same way IG-Lomm had. Most of what he had to espouse was religious propaganda, but occasionally he sprinkled in a joke or useful tidbit of information, here or there.

His vocabulator continued to growl as he watched the apprentice set up her hammock, its rumble almost an even pace of the rise and fall of an organics chest as one drew breath. It was almost like there was a layer of aggression bubbling beneath the Machine Lord's surface constantly, as though he could erupt into acts of violence at any given moment...which he could. He was pleased the Dread Seer had seen fit to inform Tyna of the details of the mission, or at least their reason for being out here on the edge of the dark lands. It meant there would be less need to explain what they were doing, though from the female organics line of questioning she still required him to fill her in on what they were doing in the immediate future. As he stepped away from the shrine and walked over to where she was preparing a few booby traps for anyone with a mind to sneak up on her sleeping form, he stopped a few paces shy of the first smart-mine. The four DRK-1s came with him as he moved, two of them always floating out front and off to the sides, the other two behind and the same. Though his photo-receptors were more then sufficient currently, he saw as much through the lenses of the floating droids as he did with his own two mechanical eyes. They were linked through the steady signal pulse being directed at the planet from the satellites in orbit.

"You still have a few hours left to slumber. According to a report from the Famine Lord who recently traveled this stretch of terrain, it is inadvisable to traverse this territory after dark. I sent out several hannite scouts to determine the validity of this, and as none have yet returned, I must agree with his assessment. The great northern forest is antithetical to anything foreign, even those blessed to enact the holy will of the Eye. The wildlife is exclusively predatory and even the vegetation may seek to ensnare or poison you." He focused the red glow of his visor on the spooky forest directly beyond the landing zone. "We will depart at the first light of day. Our destination is Mt. Soulfire far to the North. The necromantic acts described by our scouts seemed to occur most commonly amongst a gamorrean tribe living in the shadow of the dormant volcano, aptly named by the Death Lord during a visit there more than a decade ago. I should warn thee, Lady Tyna, the journey will be a treacherous one. The Eye has focused its holy sight on these lands for some time. Some of Its power resides there. It is unlikely we will reach our destination unscathed. First we must pass through the Neti glen planted by Dark Lady Trace, a powerful Damothomiri witch whose magics have been known to warp the very forces of nature. Then we will have to travel through the Valley of Canis, a favourite hunting spot of the Eye's Warhound, Inquisitor Kryptman. Its tall grasses have been known to host packs of feral beasts. If we make it beyond to the black waters of the river..."

Commodore Starkiller stopped mid-explanation. At first Tyna had been listening, but as he had continued to drone on, he noticed her eye lids drooping as her attention began to wane. He left two of his floating eyes hovering near her sleeping form, one focused on the forest ahead, the other focused on the more civilized stretch of forest behind. The Machine Lord then returned to the shrine and kneeled before the wooden idol of the Eye, bowing his head in prayer.

Last Edit: Jul 31, 2022 10:45:04 GMT -8 by Commodore Starkiller

Dread Lord Havok
The First Order

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The Deep Woods Jul 31, 2022 13:15:44 GMT -8

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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 31, 2022 13:15:44 GMT -8

The song continued in her dreams.
"Firelight, by firelight,
ghouls gather in the night
to punish every single slight
every death to wrong a right
by firelight, by firelight."

In the grey predawn, Darth Tyna opened an eye. She had fallen asleep so quickly, she hadn't even gotten out a blanket. She pulled her arms tighter around herself to stave off the night's chill. She closed her eye, just to get five more minutes...
What was that NOISE!?
There were some very loud birds and animals chattering and screeching nearby. Like nails on a slate, it grated on her ears. If they had been within blaster shot, she would have opened fire. Man, she already missed her quiet bunk with the comforting, steady hum of the Belphegor's engines.

Tyna sat up and reset the safeties on the anti-personnel landmines with her wrist pad, before dropping out of her hammock. She hit the ground with a yawn and a stretch.
She saw Starkiller praying at the shrine, and decided not to disturb him, even though he was probably already aware that she was awake. One of his DRK-1 droids hovered over to inspect her. This one was wearing a grimacing face. The monk's tortured expression seemed to scold her for not joining Starkiller for morning prayers.

In response to the thought, she lifted her hand and traced the sign of the Eye in her own forehead with her finger. A tradition was, well, a tradition. However, as she had recently learned, a few of the traditions and rituals inexplicably held great power... while most were just for show. She couldn't explain her own experience, but she saw Starkiller's religious observance differently now.

She packed up the hammock while ID10 collected the landmines. Inside of 10 minutes she had her kit folded up and stowed in her backpack. She revisited her speeder and pulled out a special forces E-11s silenced blaster with collapsing stock. She checked the blaster's light, laser sight, and red dot scope. She swung a bandolier of E-11 powercells over one shoulder, and a bandolier of frag grenades over the other. Yesterday Darth Havok saw what she was packing and merely asked, "Do you think any of that will stop the powers of the dark side?" The obvious answer was no, but most things were corporeal and a blaster bolt would do just fine. She probably wouldn't need all the weaponry. But sometimes you just got tired of rations and wanted to have some fresh meat.

She checked the blaster's energy pack and cycled the silent bolt. She attached the blaster to her chest sling. She also pulled Guts from his holster and confirmed the powercells were full. While she carried her old beat up lightsaber as a back up, she also carried a new double bladed lightsaber of the Inquisitorious. She was fast approaching the time when she would have to construct her own lightsaber and she wanted to try this new spinning style on a mission before committing.

Her ID10 droid settled on her backpack and recounted Starkiller's plans from the night previous. Beep, boop, bleep...- The droid described a glen, a valley, a river... all to get to a volcano. "Couldn't be that bad, right? The original Hannite scouts made the trip, the original ones, not the ones Starkiller recently sent... and some survived, right?" ID10 clarified: the original report came from Darth Dragus, not the Hannites. No Hannites sent to investigate had returned so far.
ID10 continue its recounting from after Tyna passed out. Neti, feral animals, black waters. Areas that were the playgrounds of some of the most legendary figures from the Order's history. Trace, Kryptman--- Tyna stopped trying to psych herself out. It was going to be bad. Very bad, and she knew it. She was nervous. This was her first mission without the benefit of Brother Eli, IG-LOMM, or Havok. It was that nervousness that drove her to over-pack and over-prepare. The nervousness also made her less talkative than normal. She was glad Starkiller was there.

Tyna drank some water from her suit filtration system, and ate a breakfast ration. She put on her game-face. She waited for Starkiller and scanned the darkness of the deep woods ahead of her. She pulled down her recon helmet over her face and stood, like a special forces operative, ready to go into a warzone. She liked what the recon helmet did to her voice. "I'm a bad ass. I'm the baddest mutterfracker. The dark side ain't seen nobody as bad as me. I'll kill you. I'll kill your mom and your pet gizka. I don't give a phrick, because I'm here to take souls..." She pulled her E-11s blaster up to point it at a tree. "I'll mess you up, punk."
ID10 squealed.
"What do you mean he's standing...." Oh, please don't let him be standing right behind me. Oh he is, isn't he. This is so embarrassing! Darth Tyna cleared her throat, lowered her weapon, and turned to see Starkiller standing behind her. "Hi, I, uh. I'm ready to go. ID10 was just telling me about the things I missed when I zonked out last night. Sorry about that, I must have been more tired than I expected!" Tyna talked non-stop, trying to compensate for last night's faux pas. "What happens after the black waters of the river?" She also hoped Starkiller would overlook her playing with the voice modulator on her recon helmet--- before she realized she was still using the feature. Tyna turned it off and pushed up the helmet until it was sitting on top of her head and her face was showing again.

Last Edit: Aug 16, 2022 15:23:03 GMT -8 by Dread Lord Havok

Commodore Starkiller
Adventists of the Eye

"By the will of the Eye, you will die."

Posts: 109
Affiliation: Order of the Eye
Traffic Light: Blue

The Deep Woods Aug 3, 2022 6:04:17 GMT -8

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Post by Commodore Starkiller on Aug 3, 2022 6:04:17 GMT -8

It was curious sight for the Machine Lord as he watched the Eye's chosen host through the gore smeared lens of a DRK-1 probe droid, hovering silently in the air as the hannite face draped around it was swarmed with flies, drawn to the rotten tissue like a hutt to slime. The view zoomed in as she ate her breakfast ration. The probes receptors were so precise they even observed and recorded the sound of her jaw moving as she chewed. Her conversation with herself and ID1O was an interesting display of organic abnormality and a good reminder of why he was blessed to be wholly machine.

There was a certain immaturity in the girl, as though she didn't observe the world in the same serious terms that the viral entity or even the hannites for that matter saw it in. He wasn't sure what he expected of a saint, but he supposed if he was honest he had thought she would be espousing more divinity in her words and in her actions. Then again, perhaps that was why the Eye had led Commodore Starkiller to the fleshling. Perhaps he was meant to guide her in the one true way. Whatever the truth, they would have a few days together where he would have an opportunity to impress upon her the significance of her role.

Massive spiked and chain wrapped arms crossed in front of the warbot's chest as Tyna finally took notice of his presence. The flies were attacking the Machine Lord's tattered skin cape in the same way they ate at the flayed faces on his probes. Eventually they would eat away at it until there was nothing left but scraps, though that served his grotesque sense of personal fashion just as well. It meant there would soon be room to add more faces to his growing collection. He sent an electric pulse across his armoured carapace, silencing the buzzing swarm as a thousand insects were instantaneously zapped and fell to the floor smoking, leaving the thick but slightly more ragged garment hanging from his shoulder pauldrons smouldering. He declined his helmed head, the faceplate locked in the upwards position to reveal the skeletal metal features that the apprentice would be more familiar with.

Synthesized Instruction "Assuming we pass through those corrosive waters unscathed and somehow make it through the blighted bog beyond, we should be able to see Mt. Soulfire at that point and will formulate a more specific plan of approach once we have a better understanding of the variables in play. Keep in mind that while this is holy Pzob, this territory we cross is entirely hostile. Everything will try to kill you. Possibly as what occurred with the most wise Dread Seer's terentatek, you may even find yourself targeted by the lifeforms we encounter because you wield the Eye's sorcerous gifts. However, you may also find your strength enhanced by the residual power left in these lands by the Eye's omnipotent gaze." Uncrossing his thick arms, he held up the index digit of his right hand to caution Tyna. "Be careful that you do not drink too deeply from the Eye's wellspring here, my fleshling friend. Recorded in the temple archives are a number of experiments High Lord Kaan performed on Force sensitive hannites in this region. Those that attempted to draw too greatly on the power of these lands were immolated in pyres of black flame or were mutated into hideous beasts. It is not clear which, for the insane scribbulations of the Mad One are difficult even for my logic circuits to discern."

Inclining his metal head, the Machine Lord lowed the faceplate of his helm over his skeletal visage, focusing the furious red glare of his glowing photo-receptors through the visor slit. He reached around his back to something hidden behind his morbid cape. As his fingers wrapped around the handle and extracted the device, it was revealed to be a primitive lantern forged of wrought iron. The iron was shaped around each side to depict an eye, but more interestingly was the Death mark engraved on the top. A relic taken from the temple, the lantern had been hand crafted by the Death Lord in his sanctum on Sump many years ago. Oddly, though it was fueled by oil, the reservoir never seemed to run dry. Taking flint from a leather pouch hanging from the warbot's waist, the mechanical monstrosity sparked a flame and ignited the lantern. It erupted in blue flame with a wailing shriek, which was shortly silenced as Commodore Starkiller closed the lid. He raised the lantern in his left gauntlet and shone it towards the dark forest, illuminating everything in front of them for a dozen paces. Though dawn had broke, only a few rays of light ever managed to penetrate the thick forest canopy here, bathing the ground mostly in shadow.

Synthesized Foreboding "If you are ready, my lady, we should set out at once. Assuming we aren't obstructed, it will take us the better part of the day to cross the first section of the forest. It is essential we make it past the grove of the Warmaster's betrothed before nightfall." He left the explanation intentionally blank. Better to just assume that it was bad.

Dread Lord Havok
The First Order

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The Deep Woods Aug 4, 2022 9:06:06 GMT -8

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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Aug 4, 2022 9:06:06 GMT -8

Commodore Starkiller's new form was as tall as she remembered. Towering over her, his chains rattled as he moved. With a spark of electricity, the insects buzzing around him and his... *ripe* cloak were dispatched with the smell of burnt rotting flesh and ozone catching the breeze.

As Starkiller described the coming dangers, Darth Tyna turned and peered into the darkness of the path into the deep woods. She tried to break down the situation into manageable combat terms in her own head. Their two-man force would be penetrating "enemy" territory on foot over varied terrain to assess necromantic corruption. All entities were presumed hostile and the operation was weapons free to engage. Due to the apparent supernatural dark power that flowed through the region, both her powers and the abilities of foes may be enhanced, but tapping into the darkness tied to the land, if unchecked, may result in unanticipated side effects including death, mutation... and judging from her own encounter with Lord Kaan at the temple, potential insanity.

The thick trees stretched tall and their branched wove together to make the black cloak of night here. As with the darkness in the Temple, this place unnaturally provoked fear inside of her. She glanced at Starkiller, wondering if the War-bot could feel fear...
She lowered her own helmet, when he lowered his. "I'm ready."

In the distance behind them, the mechanical shambling of an AT-ST echoed through the lighter woods.
"Uh, Shoot. We should start. I think that's the Belphagor's motor pool security. I... forgot... to do the sign-out process for the swoop bike so they are looking for it." She stole the bike is what she meant to say. She hated paperwork. It was easier to steal it. Deep down it gave her a thrill. She almost hoped the AT-ST would try to follow them into the woods, just to see what would happen.

As they started out, her recon helmet, with its night-vision capability did not make much difference. She also checked the muzzle light from her E-11s blaster, and it looked like shining a light into a void. The light from Starkiller's antiquated lamp somehow dispelled the perpetual night and lit the way forward. Though the blaster's laser sight worked, it produced a beam that was illuminated as if it were passing through thick smoke. It did nothing to light the way.

It was almost funny. The lights, her blaster, the helmet- all these technological aids to help one see in the blackest night, and they didn't make a dent in this place. She closed her eyes and felt the night come alive ahead of her. She felt the frenzied hum of the dark side in the ground under her feet. The threads of the force stretched out in all directions. She felt multiple sets of eyes in the shadows peer back at her and she opened her eyes to escape them. She didn't know if her force sight turned her into the equivalent of a beacon or target in the darkness. Perhaps it might be better to proceed by the light of Starkiller's lantern for now. "I used my force sight and there are alot of eyes on us. So I'm not going to use my force sight for a bit. To be safe."

After they traveled far enough that the daylight and woods behind them were no longer visible, Darth Tyna spoke up to ask, "How will we know when we reach the Neti groves?"

Last Edit: Aug 5, 2022 5:22:29 GMT -8 by Dread Lord Havok

Commodore Starkiller
Adventists of the Eye

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The Deep Woods Aug 5, 2022 6:02:43 GMT -8

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Post by Commodore Starkiller on Aug 5, 2022 6:02:43 GMT -8

Similarly to the apprentice's light devices and scopes, the magnified lenses of the DRK-1s were limited by the strange environment, unable to penetrate beyond the lanterns glow. Usually they would have flown out ahead as scouts, but in this instance due to the poor visibility, then hovered near just above his spiked shoulder pauldrons. The long drooping fleshy masks each wore occasionally caught on low hanging branches as the forest seemed to close in around them on all sides, tearing loose little scraps of grizzly tissue, creating a gruesome trail of rotting breadcrumbs. Everywhere he turned the lantern's soulful glow, shadows and creatures of the dark were banished. Poisonous insects burrowed hard and deep rather than endure the ethereal light it projected. A creak in the branches overhead sounded, causing the warbot to raise the lantern to cast its penetrative glare on the forest canopy above that blocked out the sky. Something eight legged quickly moved in the branches, disappearing in the thick foliage before his photo-receptors could get a good look at it. Tyna was right, of course, and they weren't just being watched. They were being hunted, perhaps herded even if the forest had a singular malevolent sentience, though he doubted it. This sort of corruption was more random, afflicting all without sense or reason. Though fear was no obstacle for the Machine Lord, he wrapped the metal digits of his right gauntlet around the length of gore slick chains coiled around his chest, tugging on it for security and strength.

It was shameful, but he had not fully explained the purpose of their mission to the Eye's chosen. Yes, they sought to discover the mysterious origins of the necromantic acts being performed in this region, and yes, it was possible they would find the Death Lord at the heart of it. If they found Mortale, it was imperative he be returned to the temple...whether he wished to return or not. He released his hold on the chains and lowered the lantern, continuing forwards again, occasionally turning the cadaverous face of one of his eye bots to make sure the saint was still near. The chains he wore had been consecrated in the blood and viscera of forty hannite virgins. While not all had been willing participants, their sacrifice was appreciated nonetheless. If the Great Necromancer could not be convinced to return, the Machine Lord would use the sanctified chains and bind the Death Lord. He was no fool of course. Commodore Starkiller did not possess the might to match a High Lord, especially a venerated sorcerer as powerful as Mortale, but with his newly forged body infused with the Eye's blessed strength, he could perhaps hold him for a time. He prayed Tyna would understand the necessity when or if the time came to act. For now, they marched.

The warbot craned its head over one shoulder in response to the fleshling's query, before once more focusing on the darkness that threatened to consume them from all sides.

Synthesized Consideration "I am uncertain. It is possible it is still some distance away, or perhaps we have already entered the region in which they are located. Dark Lady Trace was a powerful Dathomiri witch, whose magics nearly rivaled the unbridled rage of her paramour, the Warmaster...my master." The last was spoken with either synthesized longing or bitterness. "Her spell crafting altered nature itself, waxing and waning the already thin barrier of reality here. Nothing is as it seems. The path we walk now may not be the same if we try to return by it. I believe it was meant as a form of defense, to protect whatever secrets her garden holds."

His memory banks flashed to a moment from the past. There he was, bent over in the Warmaster's office near the tallest spire of the Citadel of the Eye. His mechanical frame was hunched over, formed into a metal cushion upon which the massive mutated abyssin could rest his tired feet after a long days work pillaging the galaxy. These moments of closeness between Bacca and Starkiller were precious to the viral entity. He recalled Dark Lady Trace coming in to ease the Cycloptic Nightmare's raging...lightsaber. After which, before she left, the Mistress of Mysteries watered the plants around the office, which she regularly maintained. One of which was a black flower with an unusual connection to the fey.

Synthesized Recollection "She was fond of the Murakami orchid. If we see one, we will be close."

Twigs crunched underfoot, barely noticeable over the rattle of Commodore Starkiller's chains as he plowed through the forest, unbending to nature as it resisted their presence. Branches snapped as he simply walked through, rather than around, anything in his path. Eventually they came across a small clearing with dark leafy bushes. Each bush seemed to have flowered for bright red succulent berries attached to thorny stems hung loosely from the shrubs. Though the Machine Lord had no gastronomical sense, to an organic the fruit would have looked particularly delicious. Yet the true nature of each shrub became clear as the warbot shone the soul lantern on the bushes. He indicated the fruit with a directing pointed finger for Tyna's sake, giving an explanation.

Synthesized Explanation "Pzobian blood berries. Extremely toxic, and a favourite delicacy of the Hungering One. It is whispered amongst the temple monks that the drake lord sends out the youngest of the hannites, those that are fleet of foot and nimble of finger, into these woods to collect them for him. A single scratch from one of their thorns is enough to put a wookiee in a coma for a month."

The lantern shone on the ground beneath the bushes, glaring fiercely over a pile of dead and desiccated bugs beneath each shrub. However, it was what the lantern's light was host to next that was truly horrifying. As Commodore Starkiller stepped past the shrub in front of him, he craned his head down and examined the floor. Scattered on the opposite side of the bushes was a collection of small bones. So small in fact, they could only have belonged to children. Bleached white, picked clean of any carrion. The Machine Lord lowered himself to a knee and bowed his head. He spoke no word aloud, the uneasy silence his only spoken prayer. He then stood back up and turned the lanterns light from the morbid scene.

Synthesized Sorrow "Not all the hannites returned, it seems. A pity, but a better fate for certain than those that survived to satisfy the Serpent's other dark indulgences. Now at least their souls may serve the Eye in death."

Last Edit: Aug 5, 2022 6:20:29 GMT -8 by Commodore Starkiller

Dread Lord Havok
The First Order

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The Deep Woods Aug 7, 2022 5:34:55 GMT -8

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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Aug 7, 2022 5:34:55 GMT -8

"How does that lamp work?" Darth Tyna followed behind Commodore Starkiller and his eerie lamp. Starkiller's lantern seemed to push back against the darkness and foul creatures around them. When he raised it high, she could hear and feel the skittering of legs through the branches. Though she couldn't feel a breeze, the branches shook and sounded at times like a breeze was rustling them. She didn't like the idea of being hunted; she would have already opened fire if she could get a clear view of what she was shooting at. "The things following us, do we attack them first, or wait for them to attack us?" But if created by Lady Trace, then Tyna was a guest of sorts in this glen. An unwanted guest, but still... it felt egregious to initiate violence unless or until they were attacked first. There was alot about the dark side she didn't yet fully understand, with these woods doubly so. Sometimes it was best to proceed conservatively (if possible) around powers one did not fully understand. She could sense the hunger building out of sight as they marched on. With the effort it seemed to be taking to get anywhere, she wondered if it would be easier to burn the woods down than keep on slugging through this place. Absent burning the place down, with every step deeper into the woods, it felt more imperative that she remain within the radius of the lamp's glow.

"Have you traveled this way before? Are we following a path?" Darth Tyna's questions were uncertain. She couldn't tell. The mechanical nightmare seemed to be blazing trail as he marched straight through thickets and brambles, turning only to walk around the large trees that held up the thick canopy above them. Looking to the left and right, the woods seemed even more dense. The darkness pressed in as if trying to push back against Starkiller's light invading its fiefdom. The woods seemed to compress and push the pair closer to the light from the lantern, as if to say, "No, this is our domain. Turn back..."

Tyna found herself instinctively sneaking and stalking closely behind Starkiller in his shadow. It actually felt more comfortable in the shadows. There was something in the lantern light that irritated her eyes and made her want to avoid looking at it.
"Firelight by firelight,
Careful not to stare at white,
robbing you of all your sight.
The soul-less come then to fight
by firelight, by firelight."
The small Sith seemed to shrink further in size, blending into the shadow cast by Starkiller's larger form. That she did so without the force was a testament to her stealth skill. She hefted the blaster slung against her chest, but resisted the urge to use her force powers. Surprise was itself a weapon and she hoped to 'sucker' any would-be attackers into showing themselves. Starkiller's body was greatly improved, but still not built for stealth. Starkiller was the larger, more obvious target. In addition, Starkiller clad himself in a cape of rotting flesh, as well as his seeker droids. The Sith apprentice could hardly imagine more enticing bait. Tyna was curious how long the malevolent creatures of the darkness would resist the rank stench of decay. When they did strike, they'd never even see her counterattack (she hoped).

She hoped the creatures would show themselves soon. Without any wind, it seemed like the air just hung around and got more foul. The stench was incredible. She had dug and scavenged through garbage pits on Coruscant and eaten things that could barely be considered food--- but the smell of rotting human flesh... PHEW! She wished she had an environmental suit because she'd be using her oxygen right now. Perhaps it was a genetic or evolutionary thing... many species had greater sensitivities for the decay of their own kind. For instance, the bloated corpse of an Ithorian smelled sweet to her, but the Ithorians that came and collected the remains hummed and harrumphed with seemingly great distress at the smell. In comparison, she found other gutter children accidentally crushed in compactors and those corpses always smelled the most horrid than other alien bodies she found in the underworld.

Avoiding breathing through her nose, she walked closer and closer behind the war-droid. This had the added benefit of allowing her to avoid most of the branches that seemed to be reaching in, seeking to obstruct her. It did not spare her from the flecks of flesh that were torn off the DRK-1 droids, until she stalked under the War-droid's flesh-cape. There she was safe from all but the branches that brushed against her legs and clawed at her boots. With perfect timing, she was stepping into Starkiller's footprints as he was stepping out of them. If she was any closer to Starkiller, she'd be riding him piggy-back... "Perfect backstabbing range," she noted. She could easily reach out and touch him. She reached out and took hold of the putrescent dipped chain Starkiller had wrapped himself in. She held onto it like a lifeline; to prevent her from stumbling or getting lost in the dark and oppressive woods. She had no special skill with 'reading' the thoughts and motivations of droids. Nevertheless, upon touching Starkiller, she felt his strength buoying her up, which was unexpected but not unwelcome.

"Murakami orchid?" Murakami Orchids... she recalled seeing some in Lord Bacca's chambers at the temple. "Weren't Murakami said to wilt if they were too far from the person they bonded to?" Perhaps it was symbolic for the feelings shared between the Lord of War and his Lady. But Tyna did wonder: if there were Murakami Orchids in the deep woods, who were they bonded too?
In learning about the infamous Danthomiri Witch through her studies, Tyna recalled being impressed by the Dark Lady's command of magiks and alchemical concoctions. Gardening was somewhat of Trace's specialty, but never in a million years did Tyna anticipate that she would have the distinct honor of walking through one of the witch's dark groves. If this place was Lady Trace flexing her might, the full magnitude of the witch's gifts were astounding! One couldn't think about Lady Trace without also thinking about Lord Bacca-- she also had to ask, "What was he like? Lord Bacca. I mean, he made you, so it's almost like you were his apprentice, right?" Similar to how any Sith lord 'makes' an apprentice through selection and training.

She almost smacked into Starkiller's back as he stopped. She peeked her helmeted head out from underneath Starkiller's cape to see the clearing with Blood Berry bushes. "Nothing is as it seems." She repeated Starkiller's admonition to herself. Such a collection of inviting bushes and berries. Too bad the berries were toxic. She noted that Lord Dragus liked them. She might need to come back here to collect some if she needed to ply the sinister raptor with a bribe for his assistance.
"Are we there yet?" She looked around and the clearing was still in the midst of the same dark forest.
It felt like she had been walking all day, though her chronograph marking the duration of the mission did not agree. In the perpetual shade of the towering oaks, she couldn't tell whether the sun was in the sky or had set. Her stomach, however, was telling her it was time for food, and so she decided that the clearing was as good a place as any for a break.

Darth Tyna brushed any flecks of flesh off her arms before she pushed up her helmet and pulled an imperial ration from a pouch on her belt. Holy wow! In sharp contrast to Starkiller's rotting cloak, the clearing smelled phenomenal. A delightfully delicious smell! She looked down at the dirt in her shadow and saw creeping insects inch out of their burrows to claim the bits of Hannite monk that she had brushed off.

Her ID10 droid floated off her backpack and over the berry bushes, attempting to take a survey of the clearing's dimensions and GPS coordinates.

Starkiller uncovered a small set of Hannite bones. "Not fleet or nimble enough." Her answer was terse and she refused to let herself express sympathy. It only led to more pain. She thought back to the slave she stabbed to death in the Temple. It was a month ago, but she could still feel the rawness of the lesson. "I'm not a victim. I'm not like them..." She turned her thoughts elsewhere.
"What other dark indulgences?" She wanted to ask about the Barabel, but didn't ask, because she didn't want an answer. Based on her own visit to Dragus' chambers she considered herself lucky to have encountered him in such a good mood.

That aside, Darth Tyna wondered how ANY children made it this far. Probably stealth and guts, just like how she avoided slavers and perverts in the under-levels on Coruscant. Perhaps stealth, as a long term strategy, could pay off more than she supposed as a sith. She hadn't anticipated making it this far with a behemoth droid without getting attacked. But stealth wasn't enough to avoid the thorns on the bushes it seemed... hmm. She definitely felt like the trip so far had already exercised and grown her stealth ability. But at the same time, she didn't know how much farther she could stealth-march. It took effort, timing, and concentration. She wanted to call it a day, but they probably were maybe halfway through the woods? Who could say? She had kept her eyes open for Murakami orchids and hadn't seen any yet. Every meter they traveled looked similar. Maybe they had hiked in a large circle and would end up where they started. She didn't know. The clearing with the bushes defied her pessimistic musings though, and she had no good reason to doubt Starkiller's navigational skills.

Her mind was also carrying on an inner dialogue, working out how to steal berries. "What a waste! I mean, they were just going to get ripe and fall off, right? So it's not even stealing. I would be making sure they don't go to waste! And besides, powerful High Lords liked them, right? So wouldn't I be doing the Eye a solid by picking a few?" She was sure she was onto something with her rationalization. "But how to do it? Pick them by the force? Use ID10? Use a grappling hook and hang from a tree branch?" Or she could just ask Starkiller.
"The thorns don't affect droids, right? Maybe we should pick some berries. They might come in handy later." The engines of greed briefly ran wild in her head. She wondered if there was a calculus for how many berries might get how many favors from Lord Dragus. Maybe she could even plant the berries and grow her own bushes somewhere easier to reach... She also wondered if she could safely harvest a thorn or two... for science! ...and assassination, of course.
She regarded the bushes again and saw a single orchid growing up out from the thorny bushes. It had been hidden in the shadows earlier, but now she spotted it. It was a thing of exquisite beauty. "Hey, I think that's a Murikami!"

Last Edit: Aug 7, 2022 17:13:27 GMT -8 by Dread Lord Havok

Commodore Starkiller
Adventists of the Eye

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The Deep Woods Aug 8, 2022 7:09:29 GMT -8

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Post by Commodore Starkiller on Aug 8, 2022 7:09:29 GMT -8

While it seemed in many ways the Machine Lord had come prepared for their journey into the darkest parts of the great forest, what he hadn't been expecting was the flurry of questions that were going to be thrown his way. He didn't mind, of course. The Eye had seen fit to bring the warbot and the apprentice together and Commodore Starkiller was going to make the most of that opportunity by sharing his collected wisdom and extensive database of knowledge with the girl.

When she asked about the lantern...

Synthesized Explanation "In truth, I do not know. The temple records indicate that the lantern was crafted by the Death Lord during a sojourn to his dark fortress on the swamp world of Sump. There amidst the blighted marshes is a temple, a place of unspeakable evil where the Great Necromancer perfected his sorcery and performed the most forbidden of occult rituals. I have seen it with my own photo-receptors before. It was in that dark place that the lantern was forged, though I know not through what means or for what intended purpose. I can only surmise based on the evidence presented, that a piece of the Dead One's soul resides in this device." He held up the lantern, staring into its blue crackling depths. "Its light appears anathema to the taint of this place, though I do not believe it is purity the creatures of these woods see when they look into its oppressive glow, but fear." Turning his mechanical gaze from the mystical light source, he shone the lantern in Tyna's face. "The lantern's light exposes them to the attention of Lord Mortale. It is not a comfortable position in which to be." He shook his metal helm from side to side. "I had not thought to bring the lantern initially, yet as I was preparing to leave the temple before coming here, I passed the reliquary in which it was located. Something...compelled me, to take the device. I believe the Eye knew we would need it."

When she asked about the creatures tracking them...

Synthesized Explanation "I would not invite their attention prematurely, my lady. My motion sensors lost track of the creatures numbers a short while after we entered these woods. It is safe to assume there are far more than we can attend to in this inhospitable terrain. But, the lantern's light seems to keep them in check for now. I doubt they will muster the courage to attack unless we provide them with an opportunity."

When she asked if he had been here before...

Synthesized Recollection "Once, a long time ago. This was shortly after the Order of the Eye had been routed in its attempt to conquer Corellia. The Warmaster was furious and required time to vent his frustrations before planning his next conquest. To sate his fury he wished to visit the tribes of Gamorreans that inhabit this continent. The primitive and warlike nature of the tribals had always amused the Wrathful One. I raised for my master a palanquin of gristle and bone that carried Lord Bacca into the deep woods at the head of an army of feral droids. Our current destination lies to the East, but during that visit we travelled to the West. There the Warmaster found the tribals he sought. Rather then pit them against each other as he was often known to do, he unleashed his terrible fury upon them, eviscerating armoured war boars with nothing but his bare claws. My master ordered the village burned; any survivors were rounded up to be flayed and crucified for his entertainment. Women, children, he made no exception. All felt the Warmaster's ire that day."

While certainly a dark tale, the way the Commodore spoke of it made it sound nostalgic.

Finally, when she asked about Lord Bacca...

Synthesized Longing "My master took no apprentices. None of any note, at least. None ever proved worthy, nor did he profess to have the patience for teaching. He had but two desires. The first was an unwavering amorous lust for Dark Lady Trace, of which I will speak no further out of respect for the Warmaster and his Mistress. The second and most consuming, was his desire for war of any kind. Before his slumber, it mattered less and less to the Cycloptic Nightmare who he fought or for what reason, just so long as blood was spilled in glorious combat. Perhaps that is why he slumbers still, awaiting the next great war upon which he can vent his wrath. My master was never one to remain idle for long. War is in his blood."

When finally they had reached the area in which the rare berries were found and they uncovered the bones of deceased hannite children, the female fleshling posed an idea that caused the Nightmare Knight to pause and turn to her. She thought the poisonous berries might come in handy later. Was that a mere suggestion based on her observations, or was it divine providence? She was the Dread Seer's apprentice after all, so perhaps the skeins of fate were hers to read and to know. Either way, he wasn't willing to deny her this. His memory banks still flagged as a favourite the vision he had seen of her during Operation Goodboy, radiating a brilliant and all consuming light, a focal point for the Great Iris of the All-Seeing Eye. He nodded, acceding to her suggestion. Kneeling before the bushes, he reached behind his back and took hold of the end of his cape of decaying human flesh. Wrapping his metal digits around the tattered bottom, he ripped a strip of rotting skin from the garment. He then removed a handful of berries with their thorny stems included, and placed them in the center of the skin scrap before folding it around the toxic fruit as a small pouch, securing the top with a strand of sharpened grass he plucked from the ground. The Machine Lord then offered the pouch to Tyna before rising back to his normal towering figure.

Next when she drew the warbot's attention to her discovery of a Murakami orchid, the mechanical monstrosity lumbered over and examined her finding. Steam vented from the grill slit of his helm as he studied the black petals of the flower she had found, briefly obscuring the plant before dispersing in the cold air of the deep woods.

Synthetic Warning "We should keep moving."

It was all he had to say before continuing forwards, deeper into the unwelcome place they found themselves in. He had not lied when he told Tyna that the flower was an indicator that they were near. What had gone unsaid, however, was that the flower was of such a precious nature to the Witch that she would not have placed it anywhere but at the heart of her garden. That meant they hadn't stumbled upon the edge of the glen. They were already deep inside of it. His pace increased, smashing through the underbrush at a consistent tread that left broken branches and mulched roots in his wake. The space between the trees seemed to narrow and the forest grew thick, stifling so the further they went, almost as if it was resisting their attempt to pass through it and leave. The arachnids that pursued them from above were forgotten as the woods themselves now seemed to be watching them. Knots in the trees appeared as faces, with dark red sap oozing from indentions that looked like tightly closed eyes, weeping down their bark.

The darkness grew more obscuring in these parts. Even the light of the Death Lord's soul lantern seemed temporarily diminished as strange whispers were elicited by the trees all around them. The technological terror lowered the luminous device and fixed it upon the front of his Sith iron skirt, hanging from his waist with its light projecting forwards. He then removed the two alchemically forged axes mag-clamped to his backside, holding both Butchersbane and Goreguzzler in hand. Sith runes etched into the surface of each sorcerous weapon glowed red hot, almost more luminous than the lantern as they responded to the dark magics permeating this place. Still forging a way forwards, he found the path ahead blocked by an insurmountable wall of intertwined trees. Lifting his right spiked knee, he thrust his leg forwards and booted the wall of wicked wood, splintering the bark but creating not so much as a gap.

Crimson light filtering furiously from the slit of his visor, the Machine Lord lifted both axes over his shoulder and prepared to strike at the wall of trees like a demonically possessed lumberjack. As he brought his gauntlets forwards, something stopped him, holding back his arm. Vines had dropped from above and encircled his wrists, while roots rose over his armoured boots and bound his metal feet to the ground. The forest came alive, shrieking in a terrible wailing cry of unrelenting hatred for the intruders.

The trees reached for Tyna, extending their gnarled branches towards her like wooden claws. Facsimiles of weeping faces in their bark snapped open to reveal terrible yellow eyes. The garden had let them in, but now it had no desire to see them leave.

Last Edit: Aug 8, 2022 7:23:01 GMT -8 by Commodore Starkiller

Dread Lord Havok
The First Order

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The Deep Woods Aug 8, 2022 15:00:04 GMT -8

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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Aug 8, 2022 15:00:04 GMT -8

While Darth Tyna asked many questions, as a sith apprentice, questions saved her from many potential and fatal mistakes. The dark side put one on a path to numerous dangerous situations. (That alone made Sith learners far more familiar with conflict than a jedi padawans of similar age.) Questions prevented her from having to re-invent the repulsor, to use the old phrase. It would take a threat, command, or gag to make her shut up.
She listened to her mechanical friend as they walked. Though still synthesized, there was something more organic about his tone now. She liked it, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. In the month after she last saw him, she occasionally had dreams about the stomping metal monster and his sleek silver skull. They were pleasant dreams.

She listened to Starkiller's speculation that the lantern contained a fragment of the Death-Lord's soul. When he waved it in her face, she covered her helmet with her hands and looked away. The closeness made her feel like she was being evaluated and summed up, as if her life was an equation that merely waited for death to calculate her final result... There was fear too, but fear that she would see the dark one before it was time to do so. As an oracle, she knew it was too soon.

She accepted Starkiller's other explanations about Lord Bacca with no follow up questions. After experiencing the rituals of the Temple, Tyna understood more about the necessity of slaughter--- it must be doubly important to a Sith Lord who makes war and combat his life's work. Lord Bacca's devotion to violence was captured in his creations as well...

When she mentioned the berries, she did not expect Starkiller to gather some right then. She probably should have been more specific and just directly asked if there was a suggested mode of picking them. His efforts did answer her question whether droids were affected by them though. They were not. Tyna wrinkled her nose and let ID10 take possession of the rotting poisonous package.

Synthetic Warning: "We should keep moving."

"Agreed." Darth Tyna grunted and steeled herself for another hours-long trek. She pulled her helmet down to follow after the dark knight of the Eye. To her surprise, Starkiller resumed the hike at a faster pace through the woods. Tyna, with her shorter legs, had to dog-trot to keep up with his longer strides. With his large spiked frame, he walked like a wrecking ball. His heavy armored body pulverized the limbs and branches that materialized from the darkness and into the lamp-light. Twigs and bits of foliage peppered her and she tried to be as close as possible to Starkiller to avoid his botanical wake. Strange whispering echoed around her. Perhaps she was imagining things, but in her mind's eye she felt the trees were holding court and deciding what to do with them. It was a disconcerting feeling. As they continued, the woods got even more thick and uneven-- she had to lift her knees higher to avoid the gnarled roots and ground creeping vines which suddenly seemed to be trying to trip her up. Maybe it was a trick of the light or how the lantern swayed in Starkiller's hand... but the flora was becoming inexplicably aggressive. She saw spooky weeping faces in the old gnarled bark, and branches warped into clawed mitts. A shiver ran down her back.

The light waned even more as her Mechanized Friend lowered the lantern until his bulk eclipsed the light, bathing her in darkness. Moments later the droid drew his battle axes which produced their own red glow. She likewise prepared herself and flicked on the muzzle light, laser sight and red dot scope of her blaster, ready to unleash a flurry of bolts onto the creatures from the canopy--- but none were forthcoming. Starkiller abruptly stopped his march and Tyna again nearly jogged into his back. She peered around him and saw their way barred by a wall of tree trunks. It was very unnatural. The trunks resisted Starkiller's kick and she could feel her adrenaline pump as she saw him raise his axes inscribed with red glowing runes. The luminous red eyes on both appeared to glare into the woods.

She turned to face the darkness and protect Starkiller's back while he cleared the way. For all the help her helmet was in the supernatural darkness beyond the rays of Starkiller's lamp, she might as well have been standing with a bucket on her head. She didn't hear the expected "chop" and looked back in time to see the silhouette of his spiked arms snared with vines.
"Frack!" The darkness encroached even more, and with it, the tendrils of the trees reached out of the gloom for her as well. The oracle opened herself to the currents of power swirling through the witch's forest and finally opened her inner eyes. Night changed to day as her eyes blazed with power, supercharged by the potency of the deep woods and the heat of her anger as her friend was held by the belligerent plants. She could see the present moment perfectly. "Is this how my master sees?"
She had no time to bask in clarity as the darkness fell from her eyes. Tyna had a mere moment to react before the pairs of gnarled claws could grab her. With understanding faster than words, she let drop the blaster and extended her arms in front of her. With a click, both pilot lights on her gauntlets sparked and lit the nozzles protruding from her wrists. Her blaster couldn't repel every single branch that reached for her. But her flame-throwers could.
"Firelight, by firelight!" Her modulated voice growled as she unleashed two glowing jets of flammable liquid at the grasping limbs. Spreading her arms wide, the sith apprentice sprayed a crescent arc of flame around her, coating their surroundings in fiery fluid. The burning liquid ignited the trees and underbrush. The wooden faces with their beady, bleeding, eyes screeched and wailed as the overextended branches and vines withered in the heat.

Tyna cut the spray short as her hand shot to the new lightsaber hilt in the small of her back. The burning trees around her whipped and thrashed in pain. As she had hoped, her barrage interrupted the trees' assault long enough for her to draw her saber. As ID10 lifted her backpack free into the air, the Sithling ignited both maroon blades in a spinning flourish and sliced the vines holding Starkiller's arms.
"My friend! The wall! The wall!" He needed to cut through the wall. She didn't know how much of this onslaught they could take. With strikes coming from all sides, leaving this place as fast as they could seemed like the only way to end this fight, short of leveling the woods and salting the earth.
The dry deadwood throughout the area further fed the growing blaze and the wooden tentacles lashed out at Tyna. Before she could free Starkiller's feet, she found her right wrist ensnared and held fast, preventing her from swinging her lightsaber. A second later her own feet became ensnared by the same roots holding Starkiller. She pulled at the vine at her wrist in a tug-of-war until it tightened on her gauntlet in retaliation and ruptured her compressed fuel canister. The flammable accelerant coated her black jumpsuit and armor. Still struggling, she deactivated her lightsaber to prevent her from becoming a human candle. As if aware of her predicament and trying to inflict poetic justice, the roots and vines jerked her, screaming, towards the thicket with the highest flames. "No! NO!!"

She took a hasty breath, sealed her suit, and braced as the vines thrust her into the fire and dropped her, unable to hold her and withstand the scorching temperatures. Her whole body ignited and she crumpled in silence.
...
Moments later, deliberately, cautiously, she rose to her feet in the midst of the conflagration. The trees quivered in frustration as she reignited her lightsaber. The force gathered around her, giving her a sickly glow that seemed to swallow some of the light from the flames on her body. Without warning, she erupted with force augmented action. With one hand, she whipped her lightsaber's humming blade clean through the fat trunk of the nearest ancient tree. As the animated tree roared, she crammed a frag grenade in its mouth and bounded into the tree limbs above her. The ancient tree's trunk exploded, showering the woods with shrapnel and burning splinters. Flames danced over her body as she spun from branch to branch, slicing and hacking, leaving a trail of burning boughs in her wake. Like an elemental fire-sprite, she acrobatically dismembered and then ignited tree after tree. Each leafy mass that she tore through rubbed off more and more of the fuel and flames until patches of her suit no longer burned.

Running out of breath, she dropped back down to the only ground not enveloped in fire where the pair were first attacked. Sinking to her knees, Tyna franticly slapped out the flames around her chest and neck and rubbed handfuls of dirt on her flame resistant jumpsuit. A moment later, she unsealed her suit and gasped for air.

Last Edit: Aug 11, 2022 15:10:03 GMT -8 by Dread Lord Havok

Commodore Starkiller
Adventists of the Eye

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The Deep Woods Aug 11, 2022 19:38:02 GMT -8

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Post by Commodore Starkiller on Aug 11, 2022 19:38:02 GMT -8

After ten years stuck collecting dust in a supply closet, Commodore Starkiller did not care to be confined. Not one bit.

Fortunately this time it was very temporary. As the fleshling apprentice ignited her lightsaber blades and slashed through the vines, he felt the constricting pressure on his mechanical limbs slacken, once more allowing freedom of movement. Without hesitation, his twin axe blades descended in one powerful stroke, smashing the roots that held his armoured boots like little more then kindling. A great and furious synthesized growl rumbled from behind the grill slits of his helm, rising in pitch as the angry warbot once again raised his axes with the intent to hew a tribute of wood from the sinister shrubs. This time, nothing stopped the brutal stroke of his alchemical blades. Butchersbane and Goreguzzler impacted the unnatural wall of trees, burying themselves up to the emblem on either haft. Where they struck, the wood began to smolder, as the sorcerous might locked into either warped weapon reacted to the darkside energy permeating the glen. Snarling like a furious mechanical beast, the Machine Lord ripped his blades free in a shower of splinters and winded up to strike again. Forks of lightning danced between his twin axes, illuminating his frightful frame as he squared off.

Synthesized Plea "Blessed Eye, grant your humble servant the strength to smite this unnatural foe." He struck again, even harder and faster than the first time. As the Sith forged steel sank into the grooves created from his first strike, they buried themselves even deeper, edges touching at the center. He drove his helm forwards, smashing the ancient trunk with his armoured forehead and sending it tumbling over, creating a small gap in the otherwise unpassable wall. Flames scorched the stump left in its wake, the crackling axe blades igniting the top with orange licks of flame. Commodore Starkiller paused, examining the blaze with interest.

Something wasn't right. Even if the glen was cursed with Dathomiri magics, the technological terror's sorcerous weapons should not have reacted in such a volatile manner. They had been crafted with alchemy, bound with the spirits of gamorrean war boars, consecrated in blood. He would have expected the blades to respond as they had against a Jedi katana, but against a creature of the darkside...it seemed unlikely.

One of his DRK-1s with a truly gangrenous mask slick with rot, probed deep into the stump with its sophisticated sensor array. Surprisingly the eye-bots went unnoticed by the malicious forest, possibly due to the fact they were not truly alive. He wondered then, if that were the case, why hadn't he been ignored as well? The cadaverous eye-bot's scans penetrated the cauterized stump, analyzing what it saw before filling the Machine Lord's hud with its captured data. Suddenly, everything became clear.

Turning around, the glaring red glow of the nightmare knight's visor focused on Tyna as she doused the last of the flames covering her suit and removed her helmet, seeming to struggle for air. Casually, even as the branches scraped against his armour plates and attempted to drag him down, he strode towards the apprentice like an irresistible force. His axe blades sang a song of ruin and woe as he taught the forest that his role as caretaker of Pzob extended to the position of head gardener as well. A brutal stroke left, a smashing blow right, nothing even came so close as to stall the mechanical monster. He was still angry about being restrained and made sure the forest was keenly aware of his feelings. Before he reached Tyna, however, the ground began to quake and the deadly glen erupted with something new and not altogether unwelcome.

PEW! PEW! PEW!

Heavy blaster fire streaked over Commodore Starkiller's head and struck the wall he had been attacking previous, shattering the wooded barrier into charred splinters and sending the neti rooted to the place into a shrieking frenzy. Looking up, the Machine Lord was rewarded with the appearance of a towering scout walker, loudly lumbering into the glen as its assortment of weapons tore up the forest. Even the tall warbot was forced to stop in his tracks to avoid been crushed into the dirt by the AT-ST as it walked across his path. If he wasn't mistaken, it was the same scout walker that had been nearing the landing zone prior to the start of their journey. He lowered his helm and returned his attention to Tyna, shouting to her from his position. With the roar of blaster fire, the walkers mechanized tread, and the sound of shrieking neti it was impossible to know if the fleshling heard him.

Muffled Synthesized Shout "They are dead! The neti are already dead!"

Before he could verify if she had heard him, a gnarled branch wrapped around his chassis and dragged the Machine Lord back, gouging grooves in the earth as his boots attempted to brace themselves and resist. Commodore Starkiller raged in a bass heavy metallic roar, spinning and striking the branch, splitting it from its trunk in a single blow. A cloud of acrid steam blew from his grill as his electronics vented heat, misting the face of the tree responsible, the tree soon to feel his unbridled fury. As the moisture laden air dissipated and the Machine Lord looked into the knotted face of the neti, he stumbled back, almost dropping his axes as he let out a synthesized gasp.

There formed in the wooden trunk of the animate shrub was a perfect facsimile of Dark Lady Trace, wrought in wood, but an otherwise flawless copy. Clearly shocked and guilt stricken by almost striking the image of his Master's mistress, the Machine Lord fell to his knees, breathless despite lacking a circulatory system. He bowed his head, the danger and destruction raging all around him forgotten in an instant. He released his hold on either axe, resting them on the ground where they continued to smolder in the grass and blacken the earth. The creature's roots began to slither over his mechanical frame, binding him even more intensely than before, threading through his cape of human hide. With his head still bowed, the warbot wasn't able to see the doppelganger's yellow eyes that were no true match of the real DLT, nor the wicked expression that split its features as a saw toothed grin.

Synthesized Groveling "My lady..." Boomed the Machine Lord's voice. "...command me." So inbred was his oath of servitude to the dark lords and ladies of the Order that the nightmare knight couldn't even fathom that he was being misled. Part programming, part enforced behaviour, and more importantly...part desire, he would not refuse the wishes of the Warmaster's paramour.

The doppelganger's acidic gaze focused on the bowed warbot before it extended one wooden hand under his helm, raising his metal head by the chin. By the time his photo-receptors looked up in rapturous yearning, those fiendish yellow eyes and sinister smile were gone, replaced again by the visage of the Witch. The creature stroked the mechanical monster's helm, feigning affection as it leaned forwards until its mouth was next to his audio receptors. "Kill her." It cooed in his mechanical ear, before raising its hand and pointing over his shoulder. The Machine Lord turned his head and looked where the fake-DLT was directing his attention. With one extended finger, she had indicated the fleshing. In that instant an internal battle was waged.

Darth Tyna, apprentice to the Dread Seer, was his friend. More then that, she had been chosen by the Eye, even if the purpose of which was not yet clear to him. She was an ally. He could not countenance harming her in any way. And yet his lady had ordered it so. Was she not also chosen, raised above mortal men to the highest levels of the Order? Yes, Dark Lady Trace was no High Lord, but she was the next closest thing. She also happened to be the most important thing to his Master. He had never refused her before. Could he do so now?

Synthesized Struggle "I..." He fought to refuse her, to say no despite every megabit of his programming desperately wanting to please her.

"Kill her." It said again, more harshly this time, before adding... "For me."

Synthesized Acceptance "I...obey."

Hovering over the Machine Lord's bowed mechanical frame, the four DRK-1s turned around so that their leprous faces were fixed towards the apprentice. Wrapping his spiked gauntlets around either axe, Commodore Starkiller rose back to his feet. The roots and branches temporarily binding him retracted, tearing the grotesque cape from his back with a wet rip as it finally fell to tattered pieces. As he began to turn around, the red glare of his visor slit held Tyna firmly in its focus, chains rattling against his chassis as he moved to face her. His mechanical hands clenched the hafts of his alchemical axes so tightly the pneumatics elicited a groan from his finger joints. In the background, the AT-ST continued to fire away, blasting through root and tree. Its crew, whoever they were, seemed to know their job well. How they had found Tyna and Starkiller, well, that still remained a question. A side mounted grenade launcher attached to its cockpit blasted the last of the glens wooden barrier to flaming bits, clearing a path. Which was well, given that the blaze started by Tyna and added to by the walker was begining to spread, choking the glen with ash and smoke.

Last Edit: Aug 11, 2022 19:53:58 GMT -8 by Commodore Starkiller

Dread Lord Havok
The First Order

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The Deep Woods Aug 12, 2022 10:16:34 GMT -8

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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Aug 12, 2022 10:16:34 GMT -8

"Is Starkiller ok?" The thought was foremost in Darth Tyna's mind as she gasped for air and took in a lung full of smoke. The violent coughing that followed caused her helmet to slide back down over her face. Her suit, now unsealed, still allowed her to breath through the open valve in the recon helmet. She wished she had brought her suit's life support unit. As the safety briefings and fire drills on the Belphegor made clear, it wasn't the heat that killed, it was the smoke.
"Starkiller?" She looked around for the shiny robot while flames still burned on the top of her helmet and down her legs. She noticed she was still on fire. "Spast!" Tyna gave a quick roll in the dirt and patted out the remaining flames on her legs and helmet with her gloved hands. She turned back to the woods. "STARKILLER?" There were piles of burning tree branches around her. The situation was starting to remind her of the harrowing moment when she couldn't find the war-droid after she survived being swallowed by a sinkhole.

Bwroosh-CLINK! Bwroosh-CLANK!
The jarring sound could be heard approaching her as the AT-ST's walking struts appeared amongst the tree trunks. The vehicle's cockpit lurched into the newly enlarged clearing with rapid blasterfire from its turret.

She collected her deactivated lightsaber and stood up to see Starkiller making his way towards her with the lantern on his belt. "Starkiller!" She felt relief to see him. The Commodore was brutal to the flora around him. He seemed to prune their unruly limbs with a vengeance, his fleshy cape flapping wetly behind him. All around him, whatever trees that were still able to move in his path seemed to be retreating from him, gliding across the dead soil with creaks and moaning branches to escape.

Muffled Synthesized Shout "They are dead! The neti are already dead!"

The neti are dead? Darth Tyna looked around her. The clearing was enlarged. Trunks and foliage were burning. Some trees were only still standing because their branches were entangled and interlaced with those of their smoldering neighbors. As the AT-ST plowed through the forest, more and more of the flaming canopy started to collapse until, for the first time all day, Tyna began to see sunlight breaking through above her... A single ray of light filtered down and landed on her. Though her uniform and armor was black, she gave off a radiant glow.

***
"Gunner Taug, continue firing on these unwholesome woodland creatures." Commander Martaine's Coruscanti accent was thick and posh. Taug manned his controls and pointed the twin blaster cannons at the living wooden stockade that had impeded Starkiller and Tyna. With a flick of his triggers, his barrage punched handy holes in the wall.
"A hit! Capital! Continue firing."
"Aye aye, Sir."
PEW! PEW! PEW!
"Droid ahead, blocking our path." The driver, Jarvins, pulled back on the throttles to slow the walker.
"I don't see it." The commander craned his head to look out the right view port.
"There, at 28." The driver indicated the search coordinate.
Commander Martaine, of the Belphegor's motorpool, peered through the left view port to see a large spiked droid, wielding axes below. It looked like it stepped from the chapters of a history lecture on gladiator-bots. He saw the droid incline its head to look up at the walker and its fierce red photoreceptors showing through its heavy helm. Good heavens, was it wearing a cape of raw animal skin? How grizzly! "I see it now. It's only a droid. Crush it if need-be. Continue the pursuit of Agent Tyna." The First Order crew from the Belphegor were unaware of Starkiller's nature or origin.
"Sir, the signal was strong and now weakening. I think we went past it."
"Pull up short Jarvins. Scan again."
"Aye, Scanning. Signal located on our left side."

The AT-ST halted and the commander's hatch opened and an open-faced helmet popped out. Commander Martaine emerged and made a visual inspection of the burning glen. He spied Darth Tyna standing in the single ray of light in the otherwise dark and fiery ground. She appeared to him be finishing a major skirmish. Based on the treacherous path he had to follow, he was surprised she made it this far. The trees in these woods were... disturbing. He addressed her over the AT-ST's booming PA system. "Agent Tyna! I could have you charged with theft!" Which was true. "Stand at attention when I am talking to you, Lieutenant!"
She was crawling under a fallen branch to fish her weapon out of a pile of debris. She had seen the light mounted on her blaster still shining. She could hear his blaring broadcast just fine through her helmet. Darth Tyna got up with her blaster and came to attention. "Yes, Sir!" She noticed the gizmos on her right gauntlet were melted. It was only armor now. With the motion she felt the ache in her body after her acrobatics in the trees. The smell of smoke was everywhere.
The commander held aloft a pair of wrist binders, "I followed you to recover the speeder and take you into custody as a deserter! Do you have anything to say for yourself, Agent?" Occasionally the navy had spats of men deserting or jumping ship when they made planet fall. It was a serious offense and they made a point to pursue any potential violators.
"Sir, Sorry. I was in a hurry. I needed to make my waypoints for Operation Coldstone. Code Auth. 156487-547." The code would prove she wasn't a deserter, even if she had not signed the forms to take the swoop.
"Kids these days." He held his hand over his helmet microphone and looked down to speak to Jarvins. "Is that so?"
"Valid operation, Agent Tyna is authorized." Jarvins validated the code in the computer and gave a thumbs up to his commander.
The commander turned back to Tyna. "At ease. Since you appear to be in the middle of prosecuting an operation, I will be issuing you a disciplinary citation and fine you a month's pay instead." He pointed a finger at her. "But I will also be recommending that your superiors place you on administrative duties. Is that understood, lieutenant?" It wasn't the first time Agent Tyna had done this. With the security measures she had to bypass to steal a swoopbike, her actions were almost certainly intentional. The empire seemed to encourage these sorts of devil-may-care, do-it-because-I-can-hack-anything attitudes among the special forces. Because she was on an operation with SSE clearances, it wasn't advisable to arrest her right now. Emperor forbid that an operation was impacted. His decision to deal leniently with her was also helped by the fact that he, and others, genuinely liked the girl. She reminded him of his own daughter. Lessons needed to be taught but it wouldn't do for the motorpool's morale to bring her back in binders. He hoped she learned her lesson this time.

"Yeah I understand." She checked the bolt on her blaster. "How did they even follow us? Any ideas ID10?"
"Bwoooop. Boop." ID10 sank from the sky, still carrying Tyna's backpack and rotting blood berry parcel.
"You were still broadcasting your transponder?" They had been tracking ID10! "They should have called you ID10-T!" Slapping a droid wouldn't change anything, but it might make her feel better. "Make sure to turn it off next time."
"Breep?"
"No not right now. Wait until they leave."
"What was that?" Commander Martaine called down, not catching Tyna's conversation. From his post, he saw the large war-droid approaching. It seemed to have lost its 'unique' fleshy cape. "I say! You there! Battle-droid! What's your operating number? Did Agent Tyna forget to sign you out too?"
Starkiller was stalking towards them, walking through the burning piles of timber in the clearing.
"Broop woop, droopee doop. Bee-beep! WREEE!"
"You saw Starkiller get kissed by a what?"

Just then the gunner of the Scout Walker fired a pair of concussion missiles.
KayPOW, KayPOW!
The twin explosions obliterated the line of barrier trees in a shower of splinters and opened up the path in the direction Commodore Starkiller and Darth Tyna had been trekking.

Last Edit: Aug 13, 2022 21:00:06 GMT -8 by Dread Lord Havok

Commodore Starkiller
Adventists of the Eye

"By the will of the Eye, you will die."

Posts: 109
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The Deep Woods Aug 13, 2022 8:06:25 GMT -8

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Post by Commodore Starkiller on Aug 13, 2022 8:06:25 GMT -8

No, don't do this. She commanded it, this unit must obey. She is our...friend. You didn't even understand what that word meant until a month ago, you still don't really. She is an apprentice to a high lord, chosen by the Eye and blessed with its radiant gaze. More blessed than the mistress of the Warmaster, your master? Besides, like you said, she's only an apprentice...

Furious flames engulfing the surrounding area reflected off the dark metal of his chassis as the Machine Lord continued to stride towards Tyna, the oppressive red glow of his visor cutting through the choking smoke like a lightsaber through blue butter. Oddly as he passed trees not yet immolated or hacked apart, the gnarled branches and slithering vines no longer reached for him. His path towards the apprentice and the walker standing over her was clear, his chains rattling with every step closer, trailed on either side by the gruesome rotting faces of his probes. His trunk like arms rose from his sides, hefting either axe as blue bolts of lightning seemed to dance between the blades, somewhat expressing the warbot's hostile intent.

Aug 12, 2022 10:16:34 GMT -8 Dread Lord Havok said:

"I say! You there! Battle-droid! What's your operating number? Did Agent Tyna forget to sign you out too?"

One of the cadaverous DRK-1s rose above the towering warbot and ascended to the level of Commander Martaine, hovering just out of arms reach. Maggots dripped from decomposing lips, leaving a slimy trail across its lens as it analyzed the First Order officer. The probes lacked weaponry, being little more than an extension of the Machine Lord's sight as they worked in unison with the Sith Elite Warbot currently hosting his program. Though likely the appearance of the sour mask of decaying skin festering with rot and swarming with insects was at least unsettling, even if it posed no harm. Commodore Starkiller stopped in his tracks, booted feet resting in a pile of coals created from the immolating blaze.

Ugh! Gasped the Commander, almost dropping the microphone in his hand on Jarvis' head as he leaned back, away from the putrescent eye-bot. He fumbled for the blaster pistol holstered on his hip. What is that disgusting thing?

The axe wielding warbot temporarily forgotten, the Commander finally popped his holster clip and pulled his sidearm free. He pointed it at the eye-bot and pulled the trigger, firing a single red bolt. In an instant the eye-bot moved to the side, the bolt barely grazing its carrion mask and causing the sour tissue to blister as an ear was cooked off. He fired a few more shots, but the result was the same, with the DRK-1 moving out of the way as its advanced processors predicted each trigger pull before it occurred.

On the ground, the conflicted nightmare knight stared across at Tyna as the world seemed to blaze around them, the neti grove still shrieking in hate fueled fury. The face plate of his helm slid up, exposing the cybernetic skeletal face the apprentice was more familiar with. His vocabulator crackled between his gleaming metal teeth, though the words spilling out came at a struggling pace as the internal battle between virtual factions of the viral entity's program waged war on one another for dominance.

Synthesized Struggle "I am...sorry, fleshling. But She..." The other three eye-bots swiveled, turning their filthy masks in the direction the warbot had come, where a single tree at the heart of burning glen stood out among all the others. There in the background was a wooden Dark Lady Trace, with a gown of bark and leaves for hair. As the eye-bots turned back towards Tyna, the facsimile's acidic yellow eyes glowed with malevolent intent, the neti's lips splitting into a saw toothed maw. "...has commanded your death. I must obey."

It was as much warning as his warring circuits could give before he was compelled to attack. Steam vented from the small almost invisible gap between his chassis and iron skirt, before his upper body began to spin like a top. Accelerating rapidly, the Machine Lord's upper half whipped around like a cyclone, his axe blades cutting through the air with a searing crackle of electricity and scorched ozone. Then his lower half began to move, continuing the relentless pace it had set before, one slow step at a time towards Tyna as the vortex of lightning and sharpened steel came towards her. Unlike his upper half, Commodore Starkiller's head remained firmly in place, near helpless to stop his frame's actions.

Last Edit: Aug 13, 2022 8:07:47 GMT -8 by Commodore Starkiller

Dread Lord Havok
The First Order

Posts: 947
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The Deep Woods Aug 13, 2022 18:10:28 GMT -8

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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Aug 13, 2022 18:10:28 GMT -8

"Starkiller! The way is clear!" Tyna was glad enough that she could have clapped her hands. Her mechanical friend didn't respond to her shout.
"Breep boop!" ID10 apparently saw the 'wooden lady' embrace the war-droid and kiss Starkiller's ear. Tyna had no idea what ID10 was going on about. Did she miss something? She watched Commander Martaine fire clumsily at the DRK-1 seeker. She looked back to Starkiller. Then it started when she saw Starkiller approaching-- the feeling of wrongness; a feeling like their fate was turning sour.

"Sir," Taug addressed the Commander. "We've broken through the wall."
"Nice!" Jarvins slapped Taug's shoulder. "All those times you broke ma's flower boxes are paying off!"
"Cut the chatter, you two!" Commander Martaine ceased firing to continue shouting. "Agent Tyna, are these monstrosities your doing? If they are, they are in poor taste."
"No." Darth Tyna watched Starkiller as he approached ominously and stopped, standing in the hot coals of a disintegrated tree trunk. He was staring at her, and she felt like she was his prey, not his friend.
"So hideous! They look like human flesh! They positively reek!" He waved his gloved hand in front of his face to fan the stench away.
"They are human flesh." Tyna did not take her eyes off the war-droid.
The commander's mouth hung open in disbelief. "They are wha-?"

She interrupted. "Shut up, commander." Tyna felt waves of internal conflict-- a mix of joy and reluctance-- coming from Starkiller. She didn't have time for Martaine's nonsense. Things in the clearing were coming to a head and demanded her focus. She sensed she had already missed something crucial- a change to Starkiller that was warping him, diverting him from his desired purpose.
"What did you just say to me?! How dare-!" He sputtered.
"SHUT IT!" She snapped. Tyna's premonitions of dread were similar to when she first encountered Starkiller and sensed how close she had come to dying by nuclear fire, satellite, sinkhole and Kinrath. She needed to concentrate. Everything would depend on it. "If you talk again I'll blow your head off. Sir." With one hand, she pointed her E-11s at Martaine. The laser sight lit up a dot on the commander's forehead and it lowered to his chest. Commander Martaine, was rendered speechless by the threat and cowed as his brain caught up with her words and the situation below him. He was about to protest and declare her insubordinate until he went cross-eyed at the red laser dot that appeared on his chest. The commander slowly sunk down into the cover of the AT-ST crew compartment.
Still, Tyna still didn't break eye contact with Starkiller. Under her helmet, her eyes were glowing as she was channeling the force to see the mysterious energy spinning and warping around Starkiller. "Starkiller, What's wrong? Why are you... different?"

Synthesized Struggle: "I am...sorry, fleshling. But She..."
"...has commanded your death. I must obey."

"I don't understand, who commanded-?" Darth Tyna couldn't help walking backwards from the threatening war droid. In defiance of physics, the single ray of sunlight shining on her seemed to bend and follow her for a step or two as she backed away from the spotlight into the shadows. His war-axes, once a comforting sight, sparked dread as he turned on her and began spinning. Was all the talk of brotherhood at the temple just a sham? She didn't want to believe it.
Tyna finally took her eyes off Starkiller and saw her: "the wooden lady." A twisted mature Neti with the force practically crackling across her barked skin. The last tree standing in the middle of the glen. Tyna's glowing eyes could see the tree's roots had, at times, grown deep and touched the dark side currents in this place. Tyna traced the humming threads of the force that stretched from the Neti to Starkiller. The Neti-crone appeared in the spitting image of Dark Lady Trace only framed in wood. Her yellow eyes were bright with delight and her jagged smile broad as Starkiller moved towards Tyna.
"No! This isn't you Starkiller! Please! It's a Neti! She's impersonating Lady Trace!" Her voice was pleading. She didn't want to fight and risk hurting her robotic friend.
She held her blaster and felt the weight of her new lightsaber resting in the small of her back. She wanted to drop her blaster and reach for it but... She had to follow Havok's orders. She couldn't give herself away by overtly using her lightsaber or force powers while the AT-ST crew could see. If they saw her, she'd be forced to kill them to keep her secret safe from the First Order. On the one hand, she felt they would need the crew alive in the days to come, but on the other hand, she wasn't sure how she could withstand Starkiller's assault without openly demonstrating her forbidden powers or lightsaber. She felt paralyzed and unable to directly stop Starkiller.

Tyna retreated deeper into the darkness as Starkiller advanced; beyond the glow of Starkiller's lantern or the many fires burning brightly. Darth Tyna's glowing eyes shone through the tinted lenses of her recon helmet a moment before she disappeared from sight. She cloaked herself in the force as Havok had showed her and reached out to throw her voice at the woodland whore.
"You've deceived my friend. Let him go or I'll burn you, Neti."
The Neti answered through the force so that Starkiller would not hear her gloating. <"My shiny toy knight will chop you as you chopped my children! Then he will rest forever, rusting in my embrace as I grow around him, forgotten by all in my glen!">
"I'll glass this glen if you hurt him, hag." Truthfully, Tyna wasn't sure how she would carry out that grandiose threat, but it felt good to say. The next part might be a little tricky.

"She- She threatened me! That's insubordination! Gunner! Fire on Agent Tyna and her war-droid!" Commander Martaine's hissing voice was transmitted loudly across the clearing. He forgot to switch his helmet microphone from the PA setting back to the walker's intercom channel. The head of the AT-ST rotated to point at Tyna's last position. "*Sounds of mouth breathing* ... She's not on our scopes? What do you mean my microphone is on?"
Tyna clicked on her comlink. "Belay that! This is Agent Tyna. I am commandeering your walker. Command Authorization Quasar-2. Hold fire and stand fast!" The idiot commander had altered fate and intertwined all their futures.

Emerging from the shadows across the glen from the AT-ST, Tyna revealed herself standing in front of the neti-witch. Tyna glared at the tree before turning and calling out. "Starkiller! I am over here! COME! CUT ME DOWN! Give your wooden idol what we want!" The sith apprentice spread her arms and grit her teeth, waiting. She really hoped that the gambit paid off. The winds above the forest shifted and rustled the trees to extinguish the single ray of sunlight where Tyna had been standing close to Starkiller. Another gap in the leafy canopy opened and a golden ray shown down, piercing the umbra of the woods and illuminating Darth Tyna. Behind the apprentice, the deciduous witch thrashed her branched arms at Tyna's exposed back. The proximity to the murderer of the witch's tender saplings was whipping her into a frenzy, but the sithling was just out of reach.

Last Edit: Aug 14, 2022 7:17:48 GMT -8 by Dread Lord Havok

Commodore Starkiller
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The Deep Woods Aug 14, 2022 10:05:19 GMT -8 Dread Lord Havok likes this

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Post by Commodore Starkiller on Aug 14, 2022 10:05:19 GMT -8

Tyna's pleading fell on deaf audio receptors as Commodore Starkiller's body spun like a top, whipping around furiously as his axes crackled, scorching the very air with every cleaving sweep. Once commanded by a ranking member of the Order, the only thing that could stop him was an order issued from someone even higher, such as his beloved Warmaster or one of the other High Lords. He had been commanded by his mistress and like the slave he truly was, the Machine Lord was compelled to do as instructed, obedience being a central tenet written into his viral code. As he approached like a unstable cyclone of destruction, the apprentice retreated further into the burning glen, reappearing some moments later on the far side from which he had come. Though his piston propelled legs moved slower than they ought to, the last vestiges of resistance fighting to the end against the unrelenting nature of his program, he was beginning to gain speed. The ground tore up beneath his booted metal heels, kicking up tuffs of burnt grass behind him.

Aug 13, 2022 18:10:28 GMT -8 Dread Lord Havok said:

Emerging from the shadows across the glen from the AT-ST, Tyna revealed herself standing in front of the neti-witch. Tyna glared at the tree before turning and calling out. "Starkiller! I am over here! COME! CUT ME DOWN! Give your wooden idol what we want!" The sith apprentice spread her arms and grit her teeth, waiting. She really hoped that the gambit paid off. The winds above the forest shifted and rustled the trees to extinguish the single ray of sunlight where Tyna had been standing close to Starkiller. Another gap in the leafy canopy opened and a golden ray shown down, piercing the umbra of the woods and illuminating Darth Tyna. Behind the apprentice, the deciduous witch thrashed her branched arms at Tyna's exposed back. The proximity to the murderer of the witch's tender saplings was whipping her into a frenzy, but the sithling was just out of reach.

Her words enticed the wrathful warbot, egging him on as his vocabulator roared in a synthesized screeching boom, crimson gaze focused solely on the fleshling. The furious glow of his photo-receptors beheld the radiant beam of light highlighting the Saint and even still he was forced to obey, despite a portion of his programming screaming for him to relent. STOP! No, we obey. Don't do this. See how she shines beneath the light of the Eye's blessed sight. She is CHOSEN! So have others been, so they will be again. It matters not. The Warmaster's mistress has spoken. OBEY! Faster and faster he turned, until his body was a blur of motion. Ten meters away, then eight, then five. His sorcerous axe blades split the very air, cleaving at a molecular level as they edged fatefully closer. It took all of the Machine Lord's reserved strength to turn his head at the moment of impact as he barreled down on Tyna.

This was not a moment he wanted saved in his memory banks.

Behind Tyna, the neti-crone was so distracted by the proximity of the apprentice that it hadn't kept a close eye on the mechanical nightmare knight spinning through its grove. The little human was so close it could practically wrap its gnarled branches around her and drag her into the earthy depths where its roots would squeeze the jelly from her eyes and slowly devour the little Sithling over the course of a thousand years. Just a bit closer, she could almost scrape the back of the Oracle's fire resistant body suit.

SSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

A great and terrible animalistic shriek rose over the crackle of the burning glen. Commodore Starkiller felt the impact as his axe blades struck something real, something solid. The moment it happened, he too let out a metallic wail, the part of him that called itself the fleshling's friend despising himself for what he had been bade to do. Reluctantly, he turned his mechanical head and fixed his skull like visage on the ruin his axes had worked, and then balked at what his glowing lenses witnessed. Instead of Tyna's cleaved and crumpled corpse, his photo-receptors regarded his mistress hewed in twain at the hip, her wooden upper half having fallen to the floor where it squirmed and squealed in agony. The facsimile was quickly turning black as the flow of dark power coursing throughout its body moments previous bled out of it, no longer connected to the forest through its roots.

A pathetic synthesized whimper escaped the Machine Lord and he fell to his knees, cradling the dying creature as though it were the real Dark Lady Trace. As he held what he believed to be his lady, grief stricken with what he had done, the truth was slowly revealed to him. The crone's corpse solidified like a piece of driftwood, its features changing to expose the face it had concealed from the warbot, with feral yellow eyes and a crooked scarecrows mouth. In the seconds leading up to its death, the doppelganger's secrets were plain to see, leaving the technological terror equal parts confused and elated. This was not the true Dark Lady Trace, for he knew her to be a being of flesh and blood the same as his most venerated master. The idea that he had done her harm had been too much to fathom. Still confused, he felt relief. A thought occurred to him in that moment and he looked around for the Saint, spotting her off to the side where she had rolled out of the way at the last instant. His photo-receptors flickered in a mechanical blink, trying to clear the error messages that were assailing his HUD as his program finally calculated what had happened, and what unspeakable act he had almost committed.

It had all been a lie. He looked down at the neti-crone corpse in his arms, his sensors finally accepting what his program had not. This was not DLT. This was a deceiver. His spiked metal gauntlets began to squeeze the rigid corpse, splintering the wood until it split in half with a audible crack. He tossed either piece away, discarding the kindling spitefully. Placing his fists on the ground, he pushed off his knuckles and stood back up. Commodore Starkiller turned towards Tyna and attempted to speak, wishing to beg for her forgiveness and understanding, but in his heart he knew it wouldn't be enough. The flaws of his programming had brought him to the very brink of doing her harm, and not for the first time either. How could he even think to ask for her forgiveness? Something had to be done for the most grievous of crimes. He owed her a penance.

Synthesized Stuttering "My lady I..." Apologies were not his forte, but what else could he do to express his remorse? Ah, there was one thing that might do the trick. Always one to take things to the extremes, Commodore Starkiller knew in that moment what must be done. "Command Override, Delta Sigma Seven Epsilon. Authorization Code 0100 1000 1100 1010 0100 1011 0111 1001 0110." The face plate of his helm slid down and locked in place, focusing his glaring vision like a laser beam on the apprentice. Steam hissed from his chassis as a near perfectly concealed seam in his chest plate split apart to reveal the inner workings of his torso. Where his metal breast ought to be, a rectangular port opened and ejected a circular disc about the size of the fleshling's palm. The Machine Lord removed the disc from the port and once more sealed his chassis.

Though it was hardly the time or place as the glen continued to burn around them, the warbot extended his hand towards Tyna, turning it over to expose his palm and the small disc it held. Under the firelight the true nature of the disc was revealed. It was a medallion forged from rare electrum alloy, masterfully crafted to depict the burning emblem of the Order, a single eye on a flaming backdrop.

Synthesized Sorrow "Blessed Saint, words alone can not convey the shame this unit feels for being misled into taking up arms against you. I am...a flawed instrument of the Eye's judgment. This can not be allowed to persist, nor should my failings be forgiven. I would self detonate to show my remorse, but as you previously instructed this unit to not self detonate, a self-destruct device has not been installed in this frame. Therefor I offer you this field commission, promoting you to the rank of Saint. An independent rank, not equal to but adjacent to the High Council."

Dropping one spiked knee into the orange coals at his feet, Commodore Starkiller bowed his head, his hand with the medallion still extended towards the fleshling apprentice. His rotting eye-bots hovered near, their gooey faces beginning to wilt and crack like parchment under the oppressive heat building in the glen. They would need to leave...and soon.

Synthesized Pleading "I beg you to accept."

Until he could master the slave like tendencies of his programming, it was the best he could offer her. While it wouldn't give her the same authority as say the Dread Seer, to whom even she was beholden, it would elevate her to the highest priority level in the Machine Lord's hierarchy. It certainly wouldn't abolish his previous actions, but it prevent him from committing them again.

Last Edit: Aug 14, 2022 10:11:14 GMT -8 by Commodore Starkiller

Dread Lord Havok
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The Deep Woods Aug 14, 2022 12:18:46 GMT -8

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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Aug 14, 2022 12:18:46 GMT -8

When Darth Tyna flung herself out of the way of Starkiller's axes, it felt like she had hurt her back. She could feel a sharp aching between her shoulder blades. She rolled into a crouch and stood to witness the death throes and wailing of the mortally wounded neti. After that galling experience of treachery, it was music to the sith's ears! She watched Starkiller cradle the bisected wooden body with mechanical sounds of distress, before slowly clenching the remains and snapping them in half. Tyna eyes darkened under her helmet and she smiled, backed by the flames around the perimiter. <"Yes grind her to dust!"> With that act of catharsis, the witch's spell seemed to be broken over her friend. She felt relief as well, just like when Brother Eli and Lomm would come to their senses and stop trying to berate, punish, or maim her.

Brushing dirt and cinders off her arms, she broke the somber silence. "This place is burning...-" Before she could say that they should move, Starkiller was kneeling before her again... only this time he literally opened his chest and pulled out a part of him and offered it to her.

Though she watched with rapt attention, Tyna hesitated to accept the medallion. "Am I my brother's keeper?" She wondered. She didn't want to command her friend. She was gratified that he would not blow himself up, to say the least, but it was not wasted on her that he didn't carry a self-destruction charge because she told him not to. But Still! To her, that's not what friends were! They betray each other nicely! Betrayal came with the territory. Starkiller's attack had failed and that's all there was to it. In addition, underneath it all there was the unsettling implication of being elevated to a rank adjacent to a High Lord, and a Saint no less! She was well aware that she was not equal to the power of any of the High Lords she encountered at the Temple.
<"Yet.">
She knew she was not a saint. She had too many... wicked and blasphemous thoughts, (as Eli constantly pointed out); but Starkiller's faith was unwavering. He ever was the true believer. The Order of the Eye as a whole was stronger with Starkiller than without him, and so was she... so was she.
<"He would make a powerful ally...">
The unspoken insinuation was that Starkiller might help her betray Lord Havok one day... She suppressed the quiet voice in her mind. The voices were beginning again, and she was sure these woods were connected to it. She shook her head as if to clear it. Her reasoning inevitably circled around the most important and personal reasons: he was her friend and she wouldn't allow harm to befall him. They had both nearly suffered from a calamity that the medallion and rank could have prevented. Accepting the commission would allow her to safeguard Starkiller against other enemies that might attempt to take advantage of him by impersonating the High Lords. It was apparent that he needed this, at least for now, and she would not turn her back on him.
She pushed her helmet up to look upon Starkiller's face with his red eyes gazing earnestly at her. Tyna's eyes looked gold, perhaps reflecting the flames of the woods around them or perhaps reflecting a change inside of her. Who could say? "Somethings are not about the result. You resisted. There is strength to be gained through struggle, even a losing one. Run an analysis and determine whether your fight with the neti could have gone any other way, and you'll see that it only could have been worse. It happened as it should, because of your devotion. So you see, my friend, you don't need to kneel or give me shiny bobbles to show me what I can read on your heart." Her mind was made up. "I accept your designation as Saint." She took the medallion and held Starkiller's large hand in both her smaller hands. "I'll hold onto this for you." The medallion was heavy in her hand. "Until one day when ranks, codes and medallions don't matter." She squeezed half of Starkiller's massive hand and ended up holding his index finger. "Rise."

When he stood up, she brushed crushed bark off of Starkiller's spiked bracers. "She was going to hold you here until you rusted away, ya know. The Neti wanted you as her shiny toy knight. Looks like you'll just have to be my knight instead." She held his arm for a moment. "Sir Starkiller." She liked the sound of it.

The moment was ended when Commander Martaine's deflated voice once again broke over the clearing. "SW-14, We await... further orders." Flaming branches and ash were falling around them throughout the grove. Tyna pulled her helmet back down. "SW-14, Follow us through the breach." She waved to the walker and turned back to Starkiller. "We should probably leave here. Lead on! We'll ride the walker when we're out of this fire!"

As they walked through the busted splinters of the tree barrior, she hefted the medallion in her hand. By the force! Was it pure electrum? "Maybe I'll keep this! I might shave off a couple hundred grams when I construct my lightsaber. Wow!" She hefted its weight again. She had all but made up her mind to use some of the medallion to construct her new saber when the time came, if Starkiller did not object.

Last Edit: Jun 4, 2023 16:34:36 GMT -8 by Dread Lord Havok

Commodore Starkiller
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The Deep Woods Aug 17, 2022 6:32:34 GMT -8

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Post by Commodore Starkiller on Aug 17, 2022 6:32:34 GMT -8

As instructed he ran an analysis of the scenario. Then he ran another, another after that, and so on and so forth until he had calculated roughly a hundred thousand potential outcomes. The Oracle was correct. In the majority of outcomes that could have possibly occurred, most ended with the fleshling's death. Somehow, statistically unlikely as it was, the best outcome had occurred. It gave his troubled program some comfort to think that everything had happened as the Eye willed it. A part of his program was doubtful of this, but he partitioned that section of code from the rest and deleted it. There was no room for doubt. The Oracle had spoken and He, the Eye's most devoted servant, decided to accept her wisdom with the dogmatic faith that he approached almost every other situation with.

He was however relieved that she had accepted the designation. The thought of being placed in a similar circumstance again was not something he wanted to countenance. Even if she seemed reluctant to reside in an authoritative capacity over him, the rank would prevent similar mishaps from occurring on their journey into the heart of the dark lands.

Commodore Starkiller's mechanical head rose as he felt Tyna's squeeze his hand, even going so far as to brush the bark from his spiked plates. His photo-receptors focused on the limb she had touched, turning it over to examine it. The Oracle had touched him. He swore in that moment he would never wash that hand again. In fact, if he didn't need it for the mission he would have removed the limb and mounted it in a place of honour in the temple's reliquary. He cursed his program for not thinking to bring a spare. His vocabulator mulled over the title she had said.

Synthesized Consideration "Sir Starkiller..." He boomed ponderously, before snapping back to attention as Tyna instructed him to lead the way out of the burning glen. Fortunately the AT-ST had done an excellent job of clearing them a path. Gathering his twin axes, he secured them to the magnetic clamps on his back, then began to march out of their flame scoured surroundings through the way created for them. As soon as they were beyond the border of the formerly intertwined wall of wood, the forest instantly became less dense, with enough room even for the large cockpit of the scout walker to pass comfortably between some of the larger oaks that held up the tall canopy overhead.

Oddly, despite the hazard they had created by setting the glen ablaze, the fire didn't appear to be spreading to the rest of the forest. The moment they had breached the outer threshold of the neti glen, the flames died down. By the time they had walked perhaps five minutes from the scene of destruction, not even a faint glow could be seen behind them, nor could the smell of smoke be detected over the damp scent of fungal mold. Once more Commodore Starkiller removed the glowing soul-lantern from his waist and held it aloft, illuminating their path. Dried skin flakes fell like dander from his four floating eye-bots, the rotting faces now rigid and cracked from the intense heat of the glen, though the probes beneath them were otherwise unharmed. Commodore Starkiller shared his findings with the fleshling as they walked, turning his vocabulator volume up so he could be heard over the walker's continuous groaning tread.

Synthetic Explanation "During the fight before I was...incapacitated, I was able to perform a few scans of our foe. Based on my observations, it is clear now that the majority of the neti were already dead prior to our arrival. The one that deceived me seemed to be controlling the rest, though I am uncertain how. It is possible the creature was left as a guardian by the real Dark Lady Trace. The Dathomiri Witches were known to use a form of necromancy to raise an army of their dead in times of conflict. It may be that DLT shared this knowledge with the guardian, allowing it to manipulate its deceased kin, though I find it unlikely. I have never witnessed her using such an ability before." He said thoughtfully. "I sense the Death Lord's hand in this, though I can not say so for certain."

After another twenty minutes, they came upon a clearing in the forest that showed signs of previous habitation. There were several sections of broken log surrounding what looked like the charred remains of a make-shift fire pit. There was even a pile of dried brush that looked like it would have served well for kindling. There were several indentations in the dirt that wildly varied. One set of footprints looked like they could have belonged to a child, small and flat. Another set was shaped more like the paws of some bipedal mammal, though Commodore Starkiller knew of no such creature in these woods. Finally, there were claw marks resembling the talons of some large lizard or bird, also bipedal. His laser beam like visor regarded the trees beyond the clearing, noting that they were growing further and further apart. They were nearing the tall grass lands beyond the edge of the forest.

His DRK-1s spread out around the clearing, scanning for life-forms but detecting none beyond a host of different bugs native to the region. Turning, he raised a fist, motioning to the AT-ST to stop before focusing his visor on Tyna.

Synthesized Suggestion "We should rest here and use the opportunity to strategize and regroup. We're nearly at the edge of the forest and the start of the grasslands beyond, where it is unwise to remain idle. I believe this is the last reasonably safe spot to stop before we continue."

Last Edit: Aug 17, 2022 6:38:04 GMT -8 by Commodore Starkiller

Dread Lord Havok
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The Deep Woods Aug 17, 2022 13:11:34 GMT -8

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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Aug 17, 2022 13:11:34 GMT -8

"That is remarkable." Darth Tyna noticed that the threat of forest fire abated outside of the glen. It made more sense with Starkiller's analysis of the Neti. "If they were already dead, that explains why they burned so well." The health of the remaining forest was probably combating the spread of the blaze she started. She really hoped Dark Lady Trace wouldn't be upset with her for killing her guardian, even though that guardian attempted to murder her and steal Starkiller. "Raising dead trees. I guess that does qualify as necromancy."

Starkiller held up his fist as they came to a clearing. Tyna wasn't sure if the AT-ST would respond to Starkiller's gesture to stop. She used her comlink "SW-14, halt."
"We copy. Halting."

Synthesized Suggestion "We should rest here and use the opportunity to strategize and regroup. We're nearly at the edge of the forest and the start of the grasslands beyond, where it is unwise to remain idle. I believe this is the last reasonably safe spot to stop before we continue."

Tyna listened to Starkiller. "Sounds like a plan." She relayed the plan to the AT-ST crew. "We're making camp here for the night." She took a good look around the clearing. "Anything on your scanners Starkiller?"

She addressed Starkiller. "Looks like someone else passed through and camped here." She eyed the rough firepit and the logs around it before She took off her helmet and set her backpack by a log. She couldn't help but inspect several conspicuous sets of footprints in the dirt by the pit; a smaller humanoid, larger bird (maybe a Gozzo?), and she couldn't hazard a guess for the third set. ID10 set down the fleshy packet of berries by her pack and burbled.
"ID10, You can top up your power from the Walker's generator." The droid beeped an acknowledgment and drifted over to the walker.
"Starkiller, I don't know if you need to recharge, but the Walker's power supply should be able to top you off." Tyna's tone was hesitant. She had no idea what kind of power consumption or needs Starkiller had, if any. She just wanted to be helpful.

The scout walker lurched to a stop, finally silencing the loud mechanical operations of its struts. The legs of the walker compressed and folded, lowering the crewcab to ground level. The crew inside popped the hatch and climbed out. Martaine first, followed by Taug and finally Jarvins after he shut the Scout Walker down.
"Commander Martin?"
"Commander Martaine of the Belphegor's motorpool. This is Gunner Natu Taug and Driver Tean Jarvins."
Jarvins smiled and waved as he passed survival gear to Taug. Taug gave a nod to Tyna.
"You both look remarkably similar." They both looked young also.
"You'll notice they have a family resemblance because they are brothers." Commander Martaine droned. "Fresh from the academy."
"Twins?" Tyna asked.
"No, but we get that from people sometimes." Taug laughed.
"I'm the older one." Jarvins handed down two blasters and grey plastisteel body armor. The brothers both were wearing the grey jumpsuits, boots, and open-faced helmets of vehicle operators. They strapped on the armored chest pieces and outfitted themselves to operate as dismounted dragoons.

She introduced herself to them as they suited up. "I'm Agent Tyna, Belphegor's special forces. And this is my friend, Commodore Starkiller."
"Pleased to meet you Agent Tyna." Jarvins then nodded to Starkiller. "Sir, any friend of special forces is a friend of mine." He and Taug saluted the Commodore. "Yeah!" Taug added.
Special forces were the main operating units in the fleet and earned a reputation for ruthlessly achieving tactical success where other units tried and failed, including rescue missions. Scuttlebutt on the Belphegor was still circulating about the special operator that dropped in and saved the crew in one of the Spook's lifepods from a whole tribe of 100 Gamorreans. Because the rescue shuttle was destroyed shortly afterwards trying to save the crew of a different lifepod, the special operator had to hike back to civilization on foot with the survivors. The SF were legendary. Needless to say, Taug and Jarvins did not seem bothered by Starkiller; only the smoky smell from the DRK-1 droids' disintegrating facemasks.
"Well now that we're all introduced, I'm going leave you guys to get squared away." Tyna nodded to them and returned to where she left her pack.

Commander Martaine, now on the ground, was not nearly as flippant to the droids. The war droid was much taller and wider now than it appeared when Martaine towered over the droid in the scout walker. The observant mororpool commander noted that the war-bot's heavy plate armor looked thicker than the armor on the AT-ST! Add the spikes, chains and large axes, up close it looked like a mechanical nightmare berserker. He avoided looking directly into the red eyes clouded by the steam that wafted from its helmet. Given what he had seen the droid do to a tree, the droid could probably rip the legs off an AT-ST. He wasn't familiar with the type of droid, but since it was with Agent Tyna on an operation, it was likely that the droid was a classified weapon.

Darth Tyna stood by her back pack. Something about her efforts in these woods had stressed her back. She could feel a sharp aching between her shoulder blades that had started when she cloaked herself. It hurt even more since she flung herself out of the way of Starkiller's axes. And it wasn't just discomfort. Something felt genuinely weird back there. She pulled off the bandoliers of powercells and grenades. Unburdened, Darth Tyna did some back stretches to work the kink out. She tried to reach and rub her back, but her armored suit got in the way.
"Actually, ID10, come with me. We're going to scout out this area really quick." It was a lame excuse considering Starkiller's droids already scanned the area better than she could on foot. A moment later she realized she could have told them she was going to go take a dump instead. She picked up her blaster and put her helmet back on. "Starkiller, I'll be gone 20-30 minutes tops." To the imperials: "Commander, set up camp and stay out of Commodore Starkiller's way. If I'm not around, the Commodore is in charge." Tyna deliberately used Starkiller's rank because she didn't want Martaine to forget it.
"I understand Lieutenant." Even though he acknowledged her order, he still sounded indignant that as a commander, he had to follow a lieutenant's orders. He almost seemed relieved to be reporting to a commodore in her absence. As soon as Tyna commandeered the Walker, he had informed the Belphegor of that fact and that the mission would continue indefinitely pending the discretion of Agent Tyna. The report would avoid an unnecessary search party. When Tyna got back, he'd have to ask her about the operation. Regardless, he was glad that out of sheer force of habit, he had made sure that the walker they used was fully provisioned for a two week stint, complete with rations, survival gear, side arms and personal patrol armor for the crew.
He hadn't forgotten Tyna's insubordination though. He dutifully noted it in his log. It would just have to wait until Operation Coldstone concluded.

***
"Keep an eye out ID10." Once out of sight of camp, Tyna scanned the area and stood behind a tree to pull off her armor chest plate and roll down the top of her jumpsuit to her waist; until she could stretch and feel her back. Like hell if she was going to do that in camp around a bunch of men! Her eyes widened as she felt two fingerlike projections between her shoulder blades. She shuddered. "Parasites!" Had parasites somehow managed to climb down her back? She immediately tried to pull them off. "Fuck fuck FUCK!" She had to stop because it hurt too much. "ID10, look at my back, tell me what you see."
"Doodoot."
"Two fingers? What, like with fingernails and everything?"
"Deet. Wee droopee?"
"Fuck you. I'm not going to try and wiggle them."
"Bree beep doot doot deet." The droid transmitted an image to Tyna's datapad display on her undamaged left bracer. She saw exactly what ID10 described. It looked like her two index fingers had been cloned and reattached symmetrically on her back between her shoulder blades. The finger nails seemed sharper and sturdier. There were red marks underneath them where the nails had gouged her back.
She swallowed hard. The sight made her want to cry. She didn't know what they were, or what they meant.She reached back and stroked one and it felt like... well the fingerlike projections could feel sensation too. "This is fucked up." Whatever the hell they were, she'd have them removed when she got back to the Belphegor. Until then, she took some small comfort in that they didn't appear to be alien or insect or anything like that because they matched her skin tone perfectly.
After a couple of deep breaths, she calmed herself and told herself "They're not going to kill me. I think." She didn't want to scrub the mission because she enjoyed being able to spend time with Starkiller again. She'd tough it out in the meantime. She pulled Starkiller's medallion out and flipped it. Tails. Yeah. No need to say anything. She'd keep the embarrassing issue to herself for now. She tucked the medallion into her athletic chest binders so it lay over her heart. She gave it a pat. Looking around to make sure no one saw, she pulled up her jumpsuit and put her armor back on, careful to make sure the projections were laying flat and flush with her back.
***

She hefted her blaster and completed her patrol, circling around their camp. Tyna walked into camp as it was starting to get dark. She saw the walker crew had assembled their standard issue survival shelter and had built a fire. Taug and Jarvins were eating their rations and getting used to the nightmare sight of Starkiller while Martaine was sitting on the log farthest from Starkiller looking rather uncomfortable.
"I checked the area, everything looks clear." She took off her helmet and sat by the fire. ID10 hovered over to Tyna's back pack and started setting up Tyna's hammock. Tyna pulled out her rations. "I saw the woods starting to thin out. What happens now Commodore? What intel do we have on on the grasslands? I recall you talking about how Inquisitor Lord Kryptman would come out here to hunt."

Last Edit: Aug 17, 2022 20:20:52 GMT -8 by Dread Lord Havok

The Deep Woods

Post by Kr'Naan'Kar on Mar 19, 2022 22:36:37 GMT -8

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