Fiction Gallery

Panic. Confusion.

Warhost soldiers were strategically retreating, running a couple of meters before turning and providing cover fire for the others. Their shots passing right through the spectres even though they knew that it wasn’t effective, they kept doing it to keep their minds focused on the training and not succumb to fear.

Evelynn and Lilith split off from each other once the Warhost soldiers started leap frogging each other in retreat. Each pausing with their groups to focus on the spectres, trying to get a sense of what they were up against. Both realized that the platform had been booby trapped, but Lilith was clueless as to what it had been and why she didn’t see it before it was sprung. Something that vexed her during their retreat back to the atrium.

Evelynn and Lilith burst in the atrium before their soldiers did, immediately yelling orders to run to the technicians who were staring at the access tunnels that the teams had gone down. Moments later, Tasha’Vel and Armad’s group rushed from their tunnel, soldiers first followed closely by Tasha and Armad. Armad was throwing a telekinetic blast back towards the spectres down their tunnel as he exited. Tasha glanced over at Evelynn and Lilith and caught the raised eyebrow from Evelynn, presumably about the Force blast.

“Does that actually work?” Evelynn yelled out. Continuing to run, Tasha shook her head no.

Armad heard the query and saw his partner's response, “It makes me feel better!”

Darkness cloaked the Tarenti as they approached the Temple, hearing the cacophony of blasters that banished the sweet silence of the night. When they arrived, their eyes beared witness to the brutal efficiency of the Temple and of times long past. Without words, the Tarenti circled behind the swarm and began cutting their way into the horde. The feeling of flesh splitting open as their blades pierced through the decayed flesh itched its way up each of the Tarenti’s arm, sadistic smiles covering their faces.

Among them was a single Gungan, covered in oxidized blood and dripping with satisfaction. He wielded a pair of daggers, the sound of bone breaking as their blades pierced through the skulls of his enemies causing the Gungan to smile wickedly. He may have followed the Gray path, but inside Kah Manet slept a darkness more cold than any the Keepers could spawn. As soon as one of the Guardians was dealt with, he would move to another. When one fell before him, he would relinquish his blade from it’s corpse and throw it into another. His tongue shot out with deadly speed and wrapped around the handle, yanking it from its position as the muscle retracted into his mouth; the dagger falling gently into his hand ready to strike again.

The shuttle hummed as the Nihilgenia departed, a perimeter immediately set up before the stone structure dubbed the Temple. Dust kicked up from the hovering vessel, revealing ancient stone paths that met with the staircase leading to heavy stone doors. Tall obelisks sat on either side, a purple and green flame burning at their peak. When the soldier ascended and approached the doors they could see an intricate carving of a craft forgotten by civilized society. Red marble and golden figures adorned the decoration, depicting an act of savage sacrifice. With a hiss and loud groan, the doors opened and revealed the denizens of the Temple. The eyes of the Nihilgenia, covered by helmets, widened in unison as they saw the eyes of their foe.

Rotted and cloudy, vacant dead eyes stared at the black clad troopers as the beings shuffled towards them. Jaws hanging agape, the creatures known as Guardians shuffled slowly forward, their feet scraping against the stone ground. Instincts driving them, the Nihilgenia fired into the crowd before them. The sound of blaster fire evoked a guttural moan from the crowd, who switched from a slow shuffle into a frenzied charge. The prior lackadaisical group became a swarm of vengeance and hatred as it descended on the group, dulled nails and flattened teeth gnashing against their armored opponents. With every shot of a blaster, the Guardians seemed to grow only more determined to gorge on the flesh of their enemies.

Its sometime hard trying to be what your not , so be happy with who you are

To all her closest friends and Clan-mates Tahiri is loyal and true to a fault, never betraying them, being passionate, and kind, and if anyone she cares about is threatened, she will unleash a fury that shows she is truly Sith.

After hearing the new of Clan Naga Sadow being attacked by the Guardians of the Temple. After being torn limb from limb. Tarentum came to the rescue. Who survived the attacked quickly sent out communications to nearby Tarentum. Tarentum answered. Tarentum was in shock with the new of Naga Sadow being attacked while entering the Temple. They answered the call, allies of Tarentum, they quickly landed upon the temple with aid for the survivors. There were people dying on the floor, bloody and in pieces, scarred to death by the ghost. The survivors managed to get out the distress call.

I myself Magik was on site, their close were torn apart and body parts were missing from the bodies. Dismembered body parts were gathered at the entrance. They had been mutilated while still alive. Screaming survivors, they were crying for help. There was nothing we could do, they were dying on the ground. There were three survivors who were in shambles, there minds had been possessed by the ghost. Don't ask me how they managed to make it back to the entrance alive with the remaining survivors. Their minds were a mess. Blood and tears rolled down their faces.

No one was going back into the Temple, we needed answers. No one seemed to be coherent after the attack, but the three survivors who managed to make it out alive. The were shivering with fear and afraid of what will happen if they go back into the Temple.

They approached the Temple not knowing what was in store. The Temple was vast, deep and dark. They had found it after years of searching. The had landed upon it, it was strange feeling for everyone in Clan. The Temple had been calling to them in dark ways of the force. As they entered cold chills rush through their bodies. They feeling surrounded them as they ascended the entrance. Torches lit as they walked down the cavern, there was no visibility, but they were seeing strange visions. The visions were getting more clear as they got deeper into the Temple. Soon the visions turned into hallucinations and ghost sightings. It was all around them, they were seeing ghosts as they descended the Temple. They only got so far before the ghost turned into incantations. The ghost stories were real, every member of the clan were trembling with fear. They had to stop not far into there expedition. The ghost came alive, they were not prepared for what was about to happen. The ghost were protecting the Temple, they began to attack members of Naga Sadow. Some of their torches went out, with only a couple torches lit, visibility was impaired. The ghost wallowing the halls with a loud screeching noise. It was so loud they couldn't take it. They had to retreat back to the entrance. Blood drenched their shirts as they scattered back to safety. They had been torn apart, limb by limb.

A Gray Jedi willing to do what must be done in order to keep the balance of the Dark Side of the Force and the Light Side of the Force.

Old friend, tried and true With a blade as dark and deep Of an ocean's wave blue

To defend is life To attack is certain death, Know which one to use.

Magik is the chosen Knight of Tarentum!

Kul’tak Drol: https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/members/13819/character_sheet Laren Uscot: https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/members/12946/character_sheet

"You summoned me, Drol?" said Laren Uscot.

"Mmm, indeed.” Kul'tak Drol responded.

“So what's so important that you called me here in the middle of the ni -"

“I have felt a disturbance in the Force, Laren,” Kul’tak said, cutting Laren off. “There were - glimpses of our suffering.”

“Listen, I understand you Force-types and your rituals about as much as I understand anatomy. How the hell does this whole ‘vision’ thing work -”

"Silence," Kul'tak hissed.

"..."

“Do you not see the significance?” Kul’tak roared. “I have killed more sentients than I can count. I have wielded power that can bring rulers to their knees. The Force is my weapon and my servant, and yet - yet it also seems to be our undertaker.”

“What are you saying, Drol? Are we in danger?” Laren finally asked.

"Were you followed, Laren? Who have you spoken to in the last two rotations? Where have you been?"

"First you speak of visions, and now you seek to interrogate me?” Laren growled.

"Where, Laren?"

"I had business to take care of off-world for House Ajunta Pall. You know I can't talk about it. What is this about, man?"

"Can I trust you?" rumbled Kul’tak.

"About as far as your blade can reach. But in our mutual endeavor, we want the same outcome."

“The Force works in mysterious ways. Even now the shroud of the Dark Side obscures our future. Yet it has shown us this. Why now?”

“Listen, I have questions about your ‘vision’ in a second. But I need real details, man. Speak!”

Kul'tak sighed. "You deny your association with the Inquisitorius, but I have embraced it. One learns to wade through the sea of lies and villainy, listening for the smallest shreds of truth. I have real evidence that..." Kul'tak's voice was no more than a whisper when he continued, "They suspect us, Laren."

"... Are you certain?" Laren finally asked.

"I would risk my life to prove this truth," Kul'tak replied.

"I'll take you up on that someday," the Pantoran quipped.

"They will have dispatched an asset to confirm their suspicions, if there isn't one here already."

"But would they inform the Dread Lord of their suspicions? She is, after all, the source of our deceit."

"Doubtful. She is as loyal to the Inquistorius and the Brotherhood as it is to the Clans. Both see the other as tools to be used, being kept at an arm's length - no more, and no less. But Laren..." the Warrior trailed off. "My concern lies in the fact they suspect us in the first place. How do they know?"

"Considering we're still alive, there is no way they have any solid evidence. Perhaps our association here has been noticed."

"Or perhaps an analysis has determined we have the most to gain and the least to lose if Selika was removed from power?" The Zabrak mused.

“There is no way to be sure.”

"I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place,” Kul’tak brooded.

“Like any good spy, your loyalty lies to yourself first - I hope.”

“I see all, question all.”

"Well spoken. In this case, we have far too many unanswered questions, and no answers to show for it. You discovered all this… from a vision?” Laren asked softly.

“By having a connection with the Force, it will sometimes provide users glimpses in time. In this case, it was our future.”

“The future, hmm? Are the outcomes you see absolute?”

“It is never for certain. For all the knowledge and power we possess, not even the Sith can control their fate. But there are times when the Force acts of its own will, seeking to manipulate events beyond our control.”

“Is it the Force at work, or an enemy we have not foreseen?”

“Everyone beyond this room is a potential enemy to our goals. Friends are a luxury for the weak, and the Jedi.”

"Choice words, Kul'tak," Laren said, laughing.

"The Grand Master's hand touches all. Can I trust you to stay the course, mercenary?"

"You ask the wrong question. I - like you - trust no one, not even myself. I put what trust I can muster into something. Is it better to trust in an unknown future, or accept that our enemies know they have won?"

"..."

"Have you nothing to add?" Laren finally asked.

"For a mere mercenary, you carry a wisdom beyond your status."

"Wisdom is great, but I've learned to respect the man with the bigger stick - or in your case, claws. And that precious Force of yours."

“What use are claws and my power against a potential doom we cannot avoid?”

“You’re the man with the visions, Kul’tak. You tell me.”

Kylex and the team Slaughtered inquisitors three four, five, six, and ten

Yes, Shadow is proud Kylex made a toy out of them But much needs done now

The assassin team Though they will always succeed Must find a new home

Silent Citadel, Caina, Cocytus, and more were destroyed in war

Pravus will suffer But for now we must abide On this space station

We will when ready Strike and cause Pravus' end First we stay silent

Oh Honored Guest Written by Aedile Mystic Alara Deathbane (Dossier #12681)

“The Zelosians shouldn’t be kept waiting long,” Quaestor Braecen Kaeth addressed his new apprentice with his orders. “Ensure you leave swiftly after this conversation. We don’t have much time before the Grand Master tries to further our demise and gets involved in our plans.”

“As you wish, my Lord.” Alara held her hand over heart as a salute, bowed slightly, and turned to walk out of the meeting quarters.

“Alara…” Braecen called.

The Aedile turned to her Quaestor in response. Braecen stood over the large table and leaned on his clenched fists that were propped on its surface. “Please… hurry back soon. We are depending on your success and your safe return.”

Without a word, Alara nodded and continued on her way. She pressed her left arm against the swiveling door to exit and began summoning a shuttlecraft from the space station’s bay.

*Finally. A chance to get off this damn hunk of metal. Been three long fragging weeks. *

Her beloved Clan had been stranded there ever since Grand Master Pravus marooned them there by destroying the entire Cocytus System. All their wonderful homeworlds: Judecca, Caina, Ptolomea; they were all destroyed for Pravus’ schemes for power. Anger rippled throughout Alara’s veins at the mere thought of what happened. The half-Sephi’s ears flexed upwards and downwards as she shook her head and continued down the corridor to the nearest elevator pad. She stepped carefully onto the one at the end of the metallic grey hall and let out a sigh as she descended.

Zelosians... Plant people. I’m being sent there to see if they know anything about restoring worlds. I guess the Clan Summit wants to try and revitalize our planets. Can’t say I blame them for trying, but a bunch of emerald haired aliens probably won’t change anything we’ve gone through. And what’s stopping Pravus from blowing them up again?

She descended down to the shuttle bay and was met by a FA-5 Valet Droid. Over the valet droid’s black matte chest was the name encryption “VALETINO”.

“Good day, Mystic Deathbane,” Valetino’s robotic, overdramatically masculine voice reverberated from the droid system’s chest. “I will be your chauffeur to Zelos II. The sugar cargo is already packed for the journey.”

At this point, Alara couldn’t help but let out a laugh. So THAT is what we are trading them for their services. Typical Xen. I better be prepared to deal with some whacky Zelosians.

“Thank you, Valetino. I am ready to depart if the shuttle is ready,” the half-Sephi responded kindly.

“In that case, follow me.” Valetino gestured his hand forward and walked down the long bridged hallway that hung over the shuttle bay’s floor. While Alara followed the droid, she sent a quick text to her sister Shadow from her datapad:

GOING ON A MISSION. BE BACK SOON. FEED ARTEMIS AND FORREN.

Before the pair reached their assigned shuttle, Alara received a text back from the Battle Team Leader:

WILL DO. TWINS AND I WILL MISS YOU. STAY SAFE.

Alara smiled and let her left arm hang by her side. She instinctively felt under her cloak to check if her lightsabers and blaster were clipped onto her belt. Her query was answered by her fingertips with positive response. Right. All good to go. I wonder if I should text Jorm to let him know I’ll be gone. Eh… He’s a smart Kiffar. He’ll text Shadow if he’s looking for me.

Alara had already warned her beloved Jorm Na’trej that she might have to skip out on dinner at the space station’s cafeteria anyway. He shouldn’t be too worried if she doesn’t arrive. Before Alara could follow her assigned droid up the ramp to their shuttle, that particular Kiffar popped out from around the corner on the path.

“Oy! Why didn’t you let me know you were going on a mission?!” Jorm held his arms out towards his favored Dark Jedi and flashed that rather coy grin towards her.

“I thought it wouldn’t be right to spread information on my mission for the Summit,” Alara fibbed, “Sorry dear. Wishing me off, I suppose?”

“Ha! Cute, ‘Lara. I’m accompanying you, of course.” He stated proudly, bringing his arms down to rest on his hips to accentuate his confident posture.

“Miss Deathbane, I don’t recall receiving data on a passenger…” Valetino looked towards the Mystic with an empty face, though his words held an air of snarkiness.

“Yes, Valetino. My apologies. You see, my beloved Kiffar has a habit of crashing Summit Party Plans. It’s fine, he’s not going to join us.” Alara spoke plainly while glaring over towards Jorm in her peripheral.

“Oh c’mon love, you can’t brush me off that easily.” Jorm headed towards the pair and reached his arms around the woman’s hips. At first Alara hesitated, but her gut feeling said she shouldn’t stop his accompanying her. She couldn’t help but flash a smile towards him and lift her hands to meet his.

“Alllriiighttt. You can come. But please play nice. This is a diplomatic mission.” She stressed sternly, but couldn’t help ending her words by landing a kiss on his cheek.

“Unfortunately are the seats are taken, Mystic Alara Deathbane. There will be no room for passengers in this shuttlecraft.” Valetino responded.

“Ohh, that’s where you’re wrong you rather strange-sounding bucket of bolts. Alara and I only need one seat between the two of us.” Jorm swung around his half-Sephi’s side and winked as he led her further onto the ramp towards the ship’s entrance.

Without a word, Valetino followed the pair into the craft and managed the controls within the ship to call the ramp back under the door. The door hummed and clicked shut, safely air-locking the interior from anything on the outside. The Sentients promptly hopped into the chair to the right of the pilot’s seat and relaxed in each other’s arms.

“Did you bring food?” Jorm nudged Alara’s right pointed ear with his nose lovingly.

“No, there might be a protein bar in my belt pack though.” Alara’s hand left Jorm’s arm and pushed her cloak backwards to pull at the bag clasp on her belt.

“Lemme get that for you…” Jorm traced her arm with his and began tickling her exposed abdominals. A hearty laugh escaped from Alara’s chest as she attempted to grab the Battlemaster’s hands and push them away from her. Jorm began to join her in laughing until the impatient droid interrupted:

“Miss Deathbane, shall we depart?” Valetino clipped himself into his seatbelt and placed his hands on the steering wheel while he turned to look at her.

“Of course, Valetino!” Alara panted out her words, breathless after laughing.

The droid nodded in obedience and flicked the shuttle’s driving controls on. After a few clicks and flips of more switches, the droid thrusted the steering wheel forward and piloted the shuttlecraft towards the shuttle bay’s large and opening exit.

With Jorm by her side, time flew by extremely fast. It felt like they arrived within the atmosphere of Zelos II after merely a few giggles exchanged between the couple.

“Be quiet now, Jorm. I need to contact the landing personnel on the planet.” Alara kissed her Kiffar’s cheek and began to click various coding on her datapad.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” Jorm winked at her and held a free hand over his mouth. Alara smirked back at him, and then continued pressing keywords into her coding. Shortly afterwards, a hologram of an elder female Zelosian pixelated from her datapad screen.

“Good day, Aedile Mystic Alara Deathbane of Scholae Palatinae. We have been expecting your arrival.” the female’s soothing voice echoed from the hologram.

“Good day to you, Commander. I appreciate your welcome so generously. Could you send my droid the coordinates in which you would like us to land in?” Alara spoke politically.

“Yes, Miss Alara. I will do just that. A welcome committee, including myself, will meet you at the coordinates given now.” Alara could see the Zelosian’s hologram waved its arm to an invisible character to its left and turn back to face the half-Sephi.

“Looking forward to meeting you, Commander.” Alara nodded and shut down the hologram. Its pixels folded back into the screen.

“You’re so sexy when you’re on your best behaviour for Commanders.” Jorm teased Alara with a rub of his nose against her chiseled cheek. Alara allowed herself one more giggle until she stood up and faced the door. The shuttle was already descending upon the planet per the Commander Zelosian’s instruction.

“Thank you dear. But I’m afraid I will have to keep this front for a while. You should stay here. The Summit didn’t tell the Commander you’d be accompanying me. They aren’t expecting a Kiffar and will be suspicious if they see you.” Alara straightened her cloak and belt as she spoke. “In fact, you should hide in the bathroom pod. They shouldn’t even spot you in the window.”

“Awh c’mon, I’m not that distracting with my beauty.” Jorm Na’trej sighed. “But I suppose you’re right. I’ll be good and listen. Stay safe. Shoot me a text if you need me to pummel you out of there.” Jorm kissed his beloved’s cheek and headed towards the bathroom pod as requested. Alara gave him a quick hug from behind and repositioned herself in front of the door.

Valetino looked over his chair to speak. “Landing now, Aedile.”

Alara nodded in thanks and straightened her posture while she crossed her arms behind her in a stature of delegation. Jorm kept the door open just a smidge until Alara’s smiling eyes met with his. With the click of a button by the droid, the shuttle’s door slid open and tucked itself under the craft. A ramp then descended upon the bright green grass of Zelos II.

As Alara walked down the ramp before her, she kept her head held high and smiled gracefully at the various Zelosians who came to greet her. Two Zelosians were on each side of the elder whom she had spoken with before over her datapad. Two males at the far sides that dressed in ivory and light viridian armor plating, their emerald eyes peering from inside intricately detailed metal helmets that held engraved flowering and various forms of flora. Two ladies-in-waiting stood beside the Commander herself and were draped in light green and white fabrics that covered only what was required by morale. The elder herself was draped in violet and yellow fabrics that were sewn specifically to mimic the shape of an iris; a plant that grew long ago on a Human planet. Alara’s ears twitched in recognition as a memory was sparked to life in her mind: the iris was a peace offering to the Zelosians by Humans long ago. This dress must be a symbol of peace for her too. The Mystic couldn’t help but admire both the beauty and masculinity of the creatures before her. As instructed to do by Xen, the Mystic bowed and kissed the elder Commander’s hand.

“Thank you so much for receiving me, Commander.” Alara stayed in her bowed position until she could step back and straighten herself out.

“Thank you for your kindness to us, Alara. I would love to receive you into the palace of Zelos II. Walk alongside me, dear.” the Commander’s voice was even smoother when heard in person. It was almost as each syllable she breathed gave more life to Basic tongue. The elder began to walk down a path to her right, her entourage devotedly following. As Alara stepped forward in attempts to follow, the elder’s group to the right of her stepped aside to give the half-Sephi room to step in. The Dark Jedi smiled, her ears perking upwards at the pair. The Zelosian lady-in-waiting and guard giggled at the sight of it. Happy with providing some joy to them, Alara turned to face forwards and admired the beautiful scenery around her.

Everything was lush with plant life. Beautifully pruned hedges shaped in the images of warriors, flowers, creatures, and past Commanders lined the pathway around them all the way to the palace. This particular palace had large curvatures in its architecture and pointed upwards towards the bright sun that gave light to this beautiful planet. The stone seemed to be that of beige marble and curled intricately around pillars and floor levels. Large bulb-like lanterns hung in symmetrical angles and locations across the castle. Flower bushes and plots of bright blues and yellows were lined around the palace and hedges. In the far distance, Alara’s amber eyes could spot the peaks of mossy green mountains and valleys that took over this particular biome of the planet. Her eyes couldn’t help but flicker with delight and awe.

“You are a lover of nature, are you Miss Alara? Perhaps that is why your name is Deathbane.” The Commander spoke kindly and faced the woman with a smile as she walked.

“Partially, I suppose. I’ve always been attuned with nature. My name was given to me after I conquered death as a small child, though. Before then, it was Night.”

“Ah yes, that definitely was not the right name for you. Someone who shines so brightly could not be shrouded by mere darkness.” The Elder complimented her.

“Thank you, Commander. That is very touching.” Alara spoke earnestly.

The group continued onwards down the path in silence and eventually made it to the palace entrance. More beautifully decorated females and males of the planet greeted them in bows and curtseys as they walked past. The palace archways allowed for most of the light in the halls, but brilliantly cyan flickering torches also lined the main hall on pillars that stood to the sides of the carpet on which they now walked. Incandescent paintings came alive across the palace walls. As they continued on, the paintings’ characters seemed almost to follow them to the main throne room. Large plant like chandeliers emitting more cyan light into the room. The throne, being the focal point of the room, was a rose gold color and was engraved with firefly-like creatures. The cushions were a delicate ivory. A large tapestry of a beautiful garden hung behind the throne. The Commander left the group to sit on her beautiful display. Her two ladies-in-waiting sat gracefully upon small ivory pillows that were laid around the base of the throne. The guards still stood in their positions next to Alara.

Once again, Alara remembered her Consul’s instruction and kneeled down to honor the Commander before her. She did not move an inch until her Sephi ears twitched in response to the elder’s voice:

“Greetings, Aedile Alara Deathbane of Clan Scholae Palatinae from the Dark Jedi Brotherhood. We are honored to offer our hospitality to you. How can we be of assistance to you?”

“Your kindness and hospitality truly brings life to my soul, Commander. This matter I bring along with me is one of misfortune and desolation. Clan Scholae Palatinae’s home, the Cocytus System as you know it, has been completely eradicated. Grand Master Pravus has turned against the Brotherhood for his own endeavors, and in doing so destroyed our home planets. We have come to you, Commander, and this glorious planet, in hopes that you may have an answer for our system. Can we somehow restore life and balance once more to it?” Alara stepped forward, turned on her datapad, and released a hologram of the desolate system into the air for all to see. The congregation within the room gasped and scoffed at what horrid sights Grand Master Pravus caused. Alara was sure to keep a measure of sorrow in her eyes as she gazed at the Elder ruler. It was a few nervous inhales on Alara’s behalf before the Elder spoke again.

“Alara, we truly sympathize with you during these dark and desolate times. Grand Master Pravus has truly done you and your clan, as well as the rest of the universe wrong. Life may come to your system once more, but only if the universe allows it. We Zelosians do not have such a power. It is true that we have worked on it for several decades now, but we have not perfected it enough to do this task you have asked from us.” She waited a moment, then stood up and gently traced Alara’s chin with an index finger. “But do not fret, Miss Deathbane. We will do what we can in our power. Your Clan, despite its usual mischievous circumstance, has been good to us. We offer to our ally gifts of our people: fertilizer, Zelosian fruit trees, and hearty soil that will not be so easily destroyed as your system’s was. Take these as a token of our peace.” The Elder turned away and sat once again upon her chair.

When the Commander was seated comfortably, Alara continued with her speech: “Commander, you and your people are so generous and loyal. Thank you for your tokens which are highly revered and truly truly appreciated by my people. This kindness will not go unnoticed. I have come bearing gifts as well…” The Mystic reached into her cloak and pulled out one single sugar cube. She held it flat onto her palm and offered it for all to see. Giggles of excitement and joy filled the room. Even the Commander cracked a graceful smile.

“You are truly friends of ours, Alara. Thank you very much. Stay as long as you like for festivities and feasting.”

“There is plenty more where this came from. Send some guards down to my ship and they will find the rest of what awaits your Highness. Thank you for your hospitality once again. I will stay until sunset, then return to my people who require this aid you have presented us. The kindness of the Zelosians this day will not go forgotten.” Alara stepped forward confidently and handed the sugar cube cautiously to the Commander who gladly received it. A snap of the Commander’s fingers triggered music and dancing to blossom into the room. Servants and ladies-in-waiting came from the arched halls and brought plates upon plates of delicious-looking fruits and vegetation.

After an hour or so, Alara was eating a delicious melon-type fruit while chatting with some ladies-in-waiting while some serious guards dragged a rather sheepish-looking Kiffar into the throne room. Female Zelosians ooh-ed and giggled at the sight of it. The Commander however, who was just finished her meal, stood up and glared at the sight.

“Your Highness! We found this Kiffar skulking about in Miss Deathbane’s shuttle while we were unloading cargo! This fiend must have attempted to stop Miss Deathbane on her mission home!” A guard shouted, peering down at Jorm suspiciously.

“I was not! Alara, my dear, tell them I’m no harm to you!” Jorm frowned up at the guard.

“Is he truly no harm? Or shall we throw him in the dungeon?” the Commander turned to Alara who was seated at her right hand.

“He is no harm to me or to any of you. I apologize most deeply, Commander. You see, this is Jorm Na’trej: Battlemaster of Clan Scholae Palatinae, and also my partner. He was unassigned to this visit, you see, yet still managed to sneak onboard on the intent of keeping me safe.” Alara spoke carefully as she stared at the Kiffar in both seriousness and attempt to not laugh at his demise. “When I discovered his presence on my ship, I told him to stay behind in efforts not to confuse your Highness. Though my feeble attempts in doing so seemed to have made it a concern for your guards. My humblest apologies.” At the end of the Mystic’s sentence, the guards quickly unhanded Na’trej and helped him to his feet.

“Ah… I see. Well considering what your people have gone through, Alara, I understand his intentions in keeping you safe. He is very welcome to join us in the feast.

“Thank you! I know it’s not a custom, but you don’t happen to have wine handy, do you?” Jorm hopped up from the ground and dusted himself off as he walked towards the Commander. He finished his sentence by giving her a kiss on the hand.

“Of course, we keep it around for visitors such as yourself. I’m happy to observe that even sneaky stowaways such as yourself have such manners. Welcome yourself to a bottle. And perhaps since your favored partner is here, Alara, you might consider staying the night in the palace?”

“Well…” Alara began. Jorm sat next to her and pleaded with mischievous, playful eyes. “I suppose so. Thank you so much for your generosity.”

“You’re very welcome. My guards will load our gifts onto your ship so that you are ready to take off after breakfast. Let the celebrations of our friendship continue!” the Commander sat down and raised a glass. Members of the nobility mimicked her stance. Jorm received a bottle from a nearby servant and raised it in cheers. He flashed a grin at Alara and gave her a wink. When everyone drank together their toast, Jorm nudged the half-Sephi beside him and spoke softly into her ear: “Ya know, our system may be destroyed and all, but I haven’t felt this hopeful in some time. I bet the bedrooms here have quite the vegetation and vines which we can utilize to our benefit tonight.”

“How so, Jester of mine?” Alara nudged back.

“Well, let’s just say you’re going to be snuggled quite tightly in bed while I help you enjoy this night on an exotic world.” He winked again. Alara’s cheeks colored as a laugh escaped her chest.

*Well, this wasn’t what I had hoped for in this journey, but at least all’s well that ends well. *

"I'm a greedy murderer and liar who gouges her clients because, well, I can." - Satre Pelles

Just keep a firm grip and feel the Saber become a part of yourself.

An extension of your power as you move with guidance of the Force.

I'm the one who gets the job done.

Kromtal is a very silly man, but that carefree attitude merely hides the danger that he poses.

Crimson blade pierces dark Exultation, triumph, joy My lightsaber feeds

I had this SUPER awesome pdf designed with funky texts and everything only to have my computer fart on me at the last minute. So instead, here ya go:

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The new Aedile gritted her teeth in frustration. She stared at the mirror before her and observed how her amber eyes flickered in the candlelight, the only source of light in the room. She was in a dormitory within the Tipoca II medical station, far away from what desolation her home Judecca had become. Tears streamed down her face as she tightened her fists which rested on the desk before her. Swirls of different emotions flooded the inner precincts of her mind: rage, fury, sorrow, mourning, anxiousness. What would happen now that the Cocytus System was lost? Where would the Clan go? Could she be the right Leader she needed to be during this suspenseful time? With the Grand Master practically on their tail with the whole Brotherhood fleet ready to slaughter them all, she wasn’t sure. Somehow she had to lead her new House into victory.

Well, at least Braecen is here with us now. He’ll know what to do, Alara attempted to comfort herself. Though she had not been under his leadership long, Alara trusted the Adept and his long experience which accompanied his wisdom. He had seen many a battle before. He’ll get them out of this one too.

*But against Grand Master Pravus and his maniacal schemes? * Alara sighed in disgust at the thought of them and lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her sharply sculpted cheeks.

Follow his leadership. Allow him to shape you who you will become.

“But will I truly follow him? To the ends of the universe?” Alara looked up at herself once more, inspecting her serious face and worry-filled eyes. “He’s a Sith, after all. A Krath adherent at that. I’m a Dark Jedi. I have to follow what I feel is true.”

But what is it that I actually feel? The different paths of the Force seemed to play tug-of-war with her heart which only made her question her instincts more. She venerated the power the Dark Side would bestow on her when she called. But inside her heart would ache and yearn to cling to what is true; to be a better version of herself.

The half-Sephi let out a scoff, blew out the candle harshly and flopped onto her bed. She tossed and turned in attempts to get comfy until she finally laid on her back to stare at the curved ceiling of her small room.

It must be getting late. She glanced over at her datapad that laid on the make shift end table beside her bed to quench her curiosity. 23:30pm. Oy.

The Marauder wasn’t tired in the slightest. The torture of being torn separate ways fueled her energy far too much. She couldn’t stop worrying about which path to truly choose.

The Dark Side provides such power. That kind of power could save the Clan. I know what I can do without it, imagine what I could be with it on my side. Within my grasp. But what will Shadow think of me? She’s Sith too, but even in her eyes true evil is unnecessary…

Before she could release another sigh from her tensed lungs, her datapad beeped to announce an incoming message across its screen:

QUA: Alara, come quick. Summit meeting in council hall. Now.

Alara threw herself at the datapad in rushed attempts to respond:

Alara: On my way.

Adrenaline and anxiety jetted through her veins as she leapt from her bed and towards her dormitory’s exit.

Perhaps, at least for now, she would allow Braecen to guide her in leadership. However, she would follow her heart as a true guide that would deem what is necessary. This could be too much trust in herself, that is true. But it was all she could do right now. At least with not much thought.

Oh Alara, you’re rather good at putting important decisions off… especially when they involve yourself.