https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DzjRkluAa0al8OBms5Elmm0Yw5sczH0VOnmNB4fZbJM/edit?usp=docslist_api

Encoded transmission 596731

I have a position that may be of interest to you Agent Voth. A recent opening in Galares has become available and I believe your skills would be most suited to the position, please find the details in the enclosed attachment.

Encoded transmission 596732

To whom it may concern, and yes Naradas I know it is you, you’re far too easy to read even in text format. I will consider the position against my current one and let you know in due course.

-------TRANSMISSIONS BLOCKED-------

Nath made him wait, and wait, and wait some more. All in all, she let the proposal lie for over two standard weeks. The Iridonian did think on it though - it was a decision purely made on instinct and a natural need for revenge.

There was no way to get back at the Human for what he had done. What he had taken away from her couldn’t be undone, not even close - but she could at least gain something from this. Her mind ticked over the possibilities, all the while Zakath’s shade whispered sweet words of revenge into her ear as she sat in pensive silence.

Nath could feel him there - he was close, so very close and yet not. It was so very unsettling, most would have tried to place as much distance as possible between them, but the longer she gazed at the reconstructed skull in her quarters, the more she knew it to be the only path left to her.

A tug, that was how she could describe the sensation, the Force informing her in which path to take without ever using words. The more her mind acquiesced, the stronger he became - it took time and effort to extend his will on her; she was strong in that regard. However, the seeds had already been sown by the man himself. Zakath had very little work in truth, it just took much of his energy to keep reminding her of what was important.

What was needed.

No Retreat.
No Surrender.
No Regrets.

The Iridonian took a perverse amount of satisfaction in making Naradas sweat it out. After reading the specs of the position she knew she was the only one that could take the role and do it effectively without leaving the victim completely useless at the end of it all.

She sighed as she took a glance at her final contract, it was complete. There was nothing left to keep him waiting as she sent across the data she opened up a new tab and accepted the position, however, it was begrudgingly done.

***

Twenty four standard hours later

The shuttle docked, Nath stepped out with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She wasn’t remotely impressed by the ship, to her it was a bauble on the crown of Galeres and nothing more. It may be new but it meant nothing.

Waiting in the docking bay was Teroch, and stood next to him was Naradas. The Iridonian barely came to a halt to greet them, not really caring what their thoughts on her arrival were.

Naradas was the first to intercept her, he immediately regretted the decision, not expecting her to lean in close enough for the second head-butt he would receive from her in his lifetime. His knees buckled as his nose broke, Teroch tried not to laugh at the Human’s suffering but couldn’t completely hold back the snort of laughter from escaping.

Nath kept walking, a small splatter of crimson flecked across her passive expression as she did.

“When does Kalon arrive?” She didn’t hesitate to speak Mando’a with him, knowing full well he knew she could speak it.

“Soon.” With a nod, she parted ways seeking out a place of her own but not heading to the habitation areas, rather down lower into the sub-decks. She was unable to see the flicker of Zakath as the sudden surge in the Dark Side of the Force, feeding on the loathing that emanated from every pore of her being.

“Soon Naradas.” The sibilant hiss in his ear made the Sith tense and his eyes widen, the feeling of Zakath’s presence coming back stronger than ever before.

Everything had been put in place. With the final beats of her hearts she thought back on her life; no retreat, no surrender, no regrets. With a smile laced with tainted blood she spluttered and more blood heaved up her throat; she laughed as Kalon swam in and out of focus.

Five,

Four,

Slower now.

It drained away as she leant against the wall heaving, colder than normal until the final rattling breath caught in her lungs and expelled along with her soul.

Finally her hearts stopped. The beacon in her chest began to send the signal, slowly spanning across space, relaying one set of coordinates to four very important individuals.

***

Atyiru froze at her desk as the message came through her console, only to be assaulted with the physical loss from a galaxy away. Blood flowed from under her eye coverings, her hands trembled as she rose to look up the very close by coordinates.

***

Cethgus felt it first, felt her being extinguish itself like a puff of smoke. His sparring partner lashed out when he froze up only to be thrown through the wall with a bone crunching thump as they landed dead on the floor.

He did not look back, ordering his shuttle to be readied immediately for departure as his personal computer bleeped not five seconds later.

***

Kalon placed his drink down, the battle had been hard. He had brought her body back aboard the Nighthawk. Honoured her the only way he knew how, cleaning away the viscous half congealed blood from her body.
He had seen far worse, she was remarkably intact but knew that was no doubt her own affinity for healing well. The scans however, had not made for pleasant viewing, her insides were almost mush. They couldn't even pinpoint the actual cause of death.

The Mandalorian stewed as he returned home with her. Could he have moved faster? Gotten there sooner? His brain racked over all possibilities and all of them ended with the same outcome.

She died.

He at least had a clear conscious, everything that could have been done had been. He didn't dare leave her side, did not eat nor sleep.

Often he wondered why he had done what he did but for now he knew she would rest well as one of his own should.

***

It did not take long for them all to gather, Kalon and Cethgus exchanged glares neither happy with the presence of the other begrudgingly they tolerated each other and only just did the foremost manage to relinquish the casket.

Zakath, Kordath and Skar had swiftly been summoned by their Consul to attend none of them knew why until they laid eyes upon her laid out in her clothes as though it was just another day. Zakath was the first to scent it. Kordath just felt it an instinctual knowledge that came from being around death. Whatever tipped Skar off he kept to himself.

Timeros was the last to arrive, his cool demeanour made it feel like it was any other day for him. His hood pulled high obscuring his expression as the chatter and whispers died away.

“As was the last wishes of Priestess Nath Voth there are personal messages for each of you which are all waiting in your personal terminals. However, there was one for the ears of all present today.”

Nath sat in the holo message, it was old, recorded before she had undergone her change, her old uniform still immaculate and her hair shaved.

At first she did not speak or move she just seemed to stare into space, and then she leant forward and began.

“I never thought I would have anyone to record a message for, you are all there I hope… I have nothing of value to give, in truth I never needed shiny objects to horde… What I am entrusting to you is far more important, far more valuable in fact… My flesh and blood, you'll have forty eight hours to convene at the place I sent to you and you damned well better be there all of you. She will need all of you, she will continue my legacy and holds a part of all of you too.”

Nath's image paused and exhaled a puff of smoke from the cigarette she had lit before beginning the recording.

“The personal messages will hold more details on what I need from you, she should be ready soon…”

The message cut off abruptly and as she faded away the sound of breaking glass emanated from deeper into the dimmed room. Followed swiftly by a scream as the new life experienced their first touch of the Force.

Timeros seemed well prepared, a spare robe already in hand as he strode away to the noise. The group remained frozen in silence, Atyiru was the first to follow inspecting the large bundle of cloth Timeros carried back.

“She's got Kalon's and Cethgus’ eyes.” Timeros teased, allowing the adolescent to try and bare her own weight only to slump on his side, muscles weak from growing so rapidly. Atyiru bore some of the weight off him.

“What do we do with Nath?” She asked hesitation laced in her tone.

“There were no specific instructions, I'd assume cremation.”

“Let's deal with the living first then.” She spoke quietly guiding the young thing out to the nearest medbay she could think of.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1wMHUuwFh76rRzJ324WHdt8hHcydiYrVediF3R06Sa8k/edit?usp=docslist_api

NathSûl

The Summit meeting was as dull as ever, the only thing that made it mildly interesting was the one or two Jedi that remained after that incident. She still couldn't believe Atty had agreed to work with the Jedi, the history between her and the Jedi was not a harmonious one. Nath knew she had practically stolen her from them; it was surprising they hadn't held it against Arcona's Consul.

They were curious - more specifically, curious of her sister. She couldn't blame them. An enigma of contradictions was how Nath chose to describe her. She enjoyed her sister's company very much but those occasions had become increasingly rare since Nath had joined the Nighthawk. She hated being away for so long, but needs must as Arcona dictate it.

The last speaker sat once more as the meeting was drawing to a close. It was not unusual for the gatherings to last longer, taking the time to speak to one another and hash out plans or discuss other topics more individually. As the gathering began to disperse into smaller gatherings Nath snapped back to reality. She had been listening even if her thoughts had been elsewhere. That was when she scented it, that sweet sickly scent that hissed from the ventilation close by. Her mind thought little of it at the time a pleasing haze descended upon her as she blinked bringing herself to the present once more.

The Iridonian stood and made her way down to speak to Atyiru She had things to discuss that couldn't wait. Nath spied that someone had already snagged her. As she got closer, the pleasant haze only seemed to increase, her usually taught muscles slowly relaxing and making her move far less rigidly than usual.

"Ah, Sister." Atyiru's voice cut through the dim babble of voices. The Iridonian managed to blink - no one could see her pupils as they dilated, masked by the fact her irises were the same colour.

"You have yet to meet any of our Jedi, have you?" The comment seemed to rankle at the man who stood with her. The almost invisible tension wasn't missed by Nath; she knew the Miraluka had done it purposefully.

Nath stared blankly at the pair. The human seemed to dwarf over Atty but only had an inch on herself. His expression gave very little away. a quality that Nath secretly admired.

Mar Sûl had been quietly conversing with Atyiru until the Iridonian came along. He had anticipated someone would interrupt at some point - she was quite in demand within Arcona it seemed. He had not expected the Iridonian. He had heard whispers within House Galeres that she was known to be aggressive and volatile, but he had yet to see it.

The first thing he noted were the weapons. She wore them clearly on display, three daggers in total and one lightsaber; perhaps her penchant for violence wasn't a complete bit of hearsay. Next he considered her attire, the material appeared handwoven. It was probably expensive but plain, the only decorative thing on her was the hilt of her lightsaber; that too he guessed was intentional. Nothing about the woman was accidental, everything was meticulous. He could respect her for this alone thus far, she at least made an effort to be more elusive an enemy.

The third notable thing about her was her aura, it managed to creep under his skin. Mar Sûl couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was other than being described as unsettling. As though more than one person gazed back at him through those abyss like eyes. It took a little self control to not react but mercifully it eventually eased into the background of his mind for now especially when he heard the Consul refer to her as 'sister,' the term was affectionate and warm, something he had not anticipated; perhaps there was hope for redemption for these two. More so the Miraluka than the cold Iridonian.

As the Human had been eyeing her like a piece of meat, so too had Nath been returning the favour. She couldn't explain why his armour appealed so much. Or why she could suddenly feel the urge to touch along the pauldron not to mention using the leather that draped across his chest to yank him closer. It made the Iridonian shudder subconsciously; uncertain if she was disgusted more with herself of the effect the Human had upon her.

"... No, I have been rather busy." Nath pulled herself forcefully out of her musings to respond. She knew that she had been glaring for the last few minutes in silence.

"Are you well sister?" Atyiru inquired carefully. The Miraluka had known Nath for a long time, probably better than anyone within Arcona and something was off. There was nothing tangible but an instinct that spoke from deep within.

"Fine." The blunt reply had been expected but the way Nath's glaring gaze met her had not. The Miraluka was blind but she could feel the heat from it like a physical blow.

The silent exchange had been completely lost on Mar Sûl, though the exchange itself had piqued his curiosity. He had very little interest in those that followed the Dark side of the Force. If they couldn't be converted from their ways then they were to be destroyed. Being forced into their company, forced to endure them had made him realise just how diverse they were; none of them were truly black just varying shades of grey. All of them had come to this place because they had no ability to function within the restrictive codes of the Light, however, he could see glimmers of potential everywhere he looked.

From nowhere the noise increased within the chamber, Atyiru was quick to glance around and frown before excusing herself to sort out the issue. Mar Sûl was quick to turn also the ensuing noise grabbed his gaze too. The male knew the noise well, the sound of brawling instantly piquing his need to resolve the conflict, he hardly noticed the Iridonian now as he stepped away to follow the Consul.

Nath was quick to react, a sudden wave of irrational instinct and possessiveness washing over her soul. A pale hand extended swiftly as she gripped at the armour she had recently been admiring; a guttural growl bubbled from her chest. The leather proved to be very useful to the Iridonian as she leveraged him back and sharply drew him backwards with enough force to make him stumble over himself.

Mar Sûl immediately went to his lightsaber, naturally more accustomed to dueling. He did not even get a chance to draw his blade as the much lighter bulk sent him sprawled to the metallic flooring. Her weight was slight in comparison to his own, he could quickly throw her off, however, as he was quick to learn what she lacked in mass she made up for in speed.

Nath could only see in shades of crimson and red, her vision swam in and out of focus. The body below her felt warm and comforting she wanted nothing more than to lie there with him. The Human of course would not allow it already she could feel his muscles begin to tense readying to throw her off. Her fingers clamped down like durasteel dragging him up so she could reach the arch of his neck and without hesitation or reservation bit sharply into the soft skin.

The instinctual drive to mark what was hers was overwhelming. The only satisfaction to be had was when the metallic tang of blood reached her tongue. The warm body beneath began to fight against her, only serving her drive all the more as she drew him up to slam him down again. The muted gasp of pain and air being knocked out of his lungs was equally satisfying to the Iridonian. Both of them now heedless to the chaos that had erupted within the chamber.

Nath felt the grasp of fingers at her shoulders and the sharp tug to pry her off but it only made her clamp down harder with her teeth. Mar Sûl gritted his teeth against the sharp pain and squirmed to gain leverage and pry her off a sudden wave of gratitude that Atyiru had returned. He could not hear the hushed words the Miraluka uttered to the Iridonian but they sounded comforting even to his ears as he tried to push away the pain and maintain his calm.

The next thing Nath knew she was falling into blackness as something hard and metallic made harsh contact with the back of her head. The sharp pain she felt quickly numbed out as unconsciousness claimed her fully. Mar Sûl was quick to push her limp form off his prone body and heave a deep breath blinking rapidly as his own mind began to sink into the haze. Idly he wondered why Atyiru was wearing a breather.

***

Ten hours later

Nath woke with what could only be described as a one of the worst headaches she had ever experienced. Not even sparing with Kalon made her hurt quite so much; and he barely held back, frequently the pair had made immense amounts of damage to training rooms in the past.

As the Iridonian's vision swam back into focus she sat upright, perhaps a little too quickly as the room began to spin disconcertingly fast. She blinked rapidly sensing a stranger a little too close for comfort. Once her sight had returned to normal she noted it was the Human from before. Her pale skin flushed with shame as the memories came flooding back to her, her mind and body freezing as she fixated on the Dark smear of dried crimson that had evidently flowed quite rapidly along the once immaculate armour.

The pause between the pair was quite thick as they sized each other up. The familiar mindset of hiding everything was now firmly back in place once more as she swung her legs off the medbay bed and sat fully upright.

"... I owe you an apology." Nath's monotone voice wavered slightly as she felt the familiar pang of shame flush her being once more. She couldn't look him in the eye even though she was trying her hardest to do so.

"Let us just pretend it never happened." He was grateful she could not meet his gaze, she would not notice that he too could barely meet hers.

Once he had awoken from his own dreamless sleep he too had been accosted by his own memories. Never would he admit to becoming jealous of a Neti that had been practically undressing a pretty Twi'lek female. If anyone were to inquire he would deny his own actions and leave the memory dead and buried away for the rest of his days.

As Atyiru entered the room she was greeted with more awkward silence, though to her credit she pretended it did not exist and the trio tried yet again to introduce themselves. At least this time they were all sober.

The door gave a satisfactory hiss as it closed behind the Shadow Lady of Arcona. She was tired, weary of the long day ahead of her on the morrow and of the day that had just passed. Without too much thought, she carefully removed the decorative binding that hid her sightless gaze. She knew she was not alone; Atyiru could see the aura of the woman that hid within the shadows of her darkened Chambers.

"I can see you sister." Her voice was calm; she wasn't at all at peace. Too many conflicting opinions buzzed in her mind, and here was another soul to add to her burdens.

"... I know." The Iridonian's voice sounded as she felt, disconnected and drained. "I know you do not need it but could you turn the lights on please?" The Miraluka obliged, uncertain if this was a welcomed visit.

Nath's pitch eyes blinked rapidly as she adjusted to the illuminated room, she sat at Atyiru's desk but had not touched a thing upon it. In her hand she nursed a small but strong shot of caff; it had gone cold hours ago but she had yet to drink it. The scent masked the smell of Tihaar rather well.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Inquired the Miraluka as she sat on the opposite side of her desk, she fell heavily into the chair, her slight weight making the leather protest mutely.

"You sound how I feel." Remarked Nath quietly as she inspected her sister. Atyiru had already began appraising her sister's aura, the small speckle within her head had grown, it looked more akin to a sarcoma now, connecting and weaving its way into her aura. There was much pain there, Atty had never asked what had happened upon her Master's death but it had changed her, now all she could see from the Iridonian was constant pain. Even the slightest movement sent a ripple of it within her.

"I highly doubt that." Remarked the Consul dryly. "I haven't seen you in many months."

"No, I had never needed an appointment before now so I decided to skip the foreplay." So much anger buzzed in her head, it lashed out in her words without even trying.

"I know you were at the leadership meeting even if you hid yourself." The Miraluka wasn't angry for this but couldn't help but point out her sister's intrusion.

"I may as well have not bothered, everyone in the room knew I was watching." Atyiru gave a slight nod of agreement.

"And what do you think?“ Pressing Nath did not ever yield results and so Atyiru backed down to gentle enquiry.

"You seek my opinion?" Nath could barely believe her ears, but she took a moment to consider her words, as she did so she took a half empty bottle of Tihaar from next to her boots and served two glasses.

Atyiru waited patiently, taking the glass when offered. A deep inhalation was taken before she drank down the contents. The satisfying burning sensation of the strong concoction was welcomed.

"I do not know what to think yet, I will serve as is my duty, I will die for you if it is what you will." Nath spoke solemnly but did not give her sister chance to speak out before continuing. "I have my affairs in order do not trouble yourself, however, I would pick your allies carefully, do not trust in the Jedi to find salvation. Peace is a lie and I do not care how much you believe it not to be."

"I wish to give us purpose Nath." She placed the glass back upon the desk, Nath drained her own, the cup of caff lay close by forgotten for now.

"And purpose you have given us, you dance on a knife point to give something not all of us wish for."

"What do you mean?“ Atyiru asked looking carefully at her sister, she saw the same pose that the Iridonian always gave, defensive, arms crossed loosely.

"I am weary sister, the universe seems to get dimmer with each passing day and I do not know how to stop it." The confession burned in her throat, it hurt almost as much as existence did. "When this is over I wish to see him. I deserve more than one day of true happiness."

Neither woman had to speak his name, of course they had both been there, Atyiru knew to whom Nath had bound her body and soul with.

"You miss him."

"Every day." She confirmed unable to look her sister in the eye as was normally Nath's custom. "When this is over I will be taking a short leave."

"Of course." Atyiru was glad Nath would stay until the end, she couldn't deny her sister her wish.

"Whilst I remain on the Nighthawk I will be your eyes and ears. I suggest you invest in a few more around Arcona."

Atyiru pondered on the idea and eventually nodded her head in agreement, she knew very well that not everyone was content with the decision. As yet she had not heard Nath's thoughts and decided now was a good a time as any to inquire.

"What do you think of this alliance? Saying what you have is not an opinion." The Miraluka placed the glass back upon the desk and Nath dutifully refilled it as she did her own.

"...What does it matter? My opinion counts for nothing."

"It matters to me." The pause Nath took to reply was long, honestly she had no idea what to make of this situation.

"I believe that once our common enemy is gone we will have problems. Once the reason that binds us is gone there will be another war on our hands. In some respects I suppose it will be useful, we need a culling and a way to prove our newer recruits into our ranks. Why not war with the Jedi? Our philosophies differ so much there is no possible way to find harmony."

Atyiru gave a another acknowledging nod of her head, taking the now filled glass. The pair remains thus for the rest of the night until the bottle was empty and they had found more liquor to quench themselves with.

Manually added

Nath Voth
13425

Korriban did not change much in Nath’s opinion, this had been the second time she had the pleasure of visiting the desolate planet. This time she had to confess was far more enjoyable than the first, this time she could travel where she wished, she could explore and vanish into tombs for weeks at a time and nothing bad would come of it. The last time had not been so enjoyable or free with her whims.

She recalled the war.

The Iridonian would never say that she was pivotal within it, or contributed greatly to it’s success, her ego was far too small for such boasts. If she had to say anything she would describe herself as a force of chaos within a ball of organised chaos.

Slowly she walked her way through the sands, pulling up the balaklava higher, she could feel a storm brewing as the winds picked up on the normally mild desert planet. The last time she had been here she recalled the sands had been turned crimson with the fighting, now not even a body remained. Everything had been swept away, no doubt the bodies had made excellent snacks for the flora and fauna all of which had evolved a ruthless attitude to prey.

As quickly as she could manage she caught up with her counterpart for this little excursion. He stood several inches taller than her and in muscle mass was probably the equivalent of three of her under nourished selves.

“Storm’s coming in.” He turned and glanced skywards a small frown gracing his expression.

“How can you tell?” The sky still seemed calm enough to him, there was nothing unusual or even remotely hinting to stormy weather. Nath knew better, knew what would come and the results of not finding sufficient shelter.

“I lived on Iridonia, the environment was similar.” It was the only expatiation she could think to give the Mandalorian. He thought about it for a long while as they walked down towards the heart of the Valley of Kings.

“We could use that tomb we met in last time.” Nath gave a nod, knowing they had plenty of time to reach it and it would not be caved in like many of the tombs they would pass along the way.

She kept pace with Kalon without difficulty, she could have walked faster but there was no rush, no target to kill or artefact to capture now. No, that had all happened a few months prior and she had seen how it had effected them. How it had changed people to become monstrous creatures that easily turned on friend as quickly as foe.

Nath wondered if Muz was happy now he had the answer to his question, she hadn’t been there when he had breached the hidden tomb but she wasn’t heard pressed to imagine his expression as the large stone blocks turned to rubble. Or how his fingers grasped at the holocron as though it was as fragile as glass.

The pair walked in silence, no doubt Kalon was reliving memories of his own, she did not wish to pry, some things where better left in the memory. For herself she recalled bodies being piled along the narrow path between the rows of tombs, having to climb over fallen Sith to reach her next opponent uncaring if they were friend (not that Nath had many of them) or enemy.

As they continued she fell deeper into her musings, she could smell the metallic tang of the crimson viscous bodily fluids that had soaked so deeply into the sands that it had almost made a paste with the repeated churning of boots that had worked it’s way through it. She felt the itch of dead eyes glaring up at her silently asking her why she had not bothered to save them.

Nath was forced to clench her fists and was thankful her kind did not perspire as much as a Human. It was far more difficult to read that she was in truth recalling these memories far more vividly than the previous battles she had participated in. Slowly her hands came to rest upon the the hilts of her Durasteel daggers, The motion was one of comfort, knowing they were there was reassuring in a more primitive part of her mind.

Nausea bubbled in the pit of her stomach, she took a quiet deep breath to try and repress the acidic contents of her stomach. She wished to go home, wished she could forget it all and pretend this damned war had never happened.

Her hands trembled now too...