"Into The Underworld" by: DJM Sith Bloodfyre-Tarentae Quaestor, House Tarentum Sith Order

SBL Zandro Savric Erinos Arconae Consul, Clan Arcona Sith Order

OP Wuntila Zratian Entar Proconsul, Clan Arcona Obelisk Order

2011 - Into The Underworld (A Tarcona Event: Epilogue)

Tershik Hel tread slowly through what remained of the holding area that had been set aside for Syrus Bek's most recent project. What had been slated as another facet of depravity and morbid entertainment for Hel's clientele that would add revenue to Bek's fortunes had turned sour. The force field generators were destroyed, the entire area turned upside down, and everything either taken, or lying in ruins. The Asylum researchers were now gone, and the precious cargo that had been either research material, or the very reborn creations that would have served in Tershik Hel's horrific leisure palace were gone. And all around lay the carcasses of what might have been Hel's former mercenaries and bodyguards.

"Tell me what happened," the patriarch of the Hel family kept his gaze focused on the scene before his eyes, not even bothering to look at his daughter, Aryaan.

"Father, recent additions to our clientele were gathered here for a party," the lithe female began, "as had been coordinated. They paid a very generous sum, of which you are no doubt aware, and had been indulging themselves in our many pleasures and offerings, again, as you are no doubt aware--"

"Get on with it, my daughter," Tershik's voice was almost void of all traces of emotion.

"From investigations thus far," Aryaan hastened to obey her father's command, "they seem to have been able to infiltrate our compound by members of the established party disrupting our security systems. Those within enabled the rest of their cohorts to violate our compound. A battle ensued, as we have witnessed the trail leading here. We thought perhaps they might have been initially just trying to destroy the compound, or somehow disrupt our business. Instead, they were very specific about disregarding our other pursuits, and were precise about making their way here. They knew about this area, and what was within."

"I have no doubt they were likely coming to reclaim something of their own property," the eldest Hel correctly surmised. "Syrus Bek mentioned that, in keeping this for him, we were potentially incurring the wrath of those who had not paid him his due."

Aryaan waited a moment, her gaze remaining on the back of her father's head as he still moved slowly, deliberately through the wreckage of the sub-basement holding area. It was intended to have served as perhaps the darkest of the Hel compound dungeons, where life and death would have mingled regularly, and destruction and other carnal pleasures could have been pursued at any pace, and for a rather sumptuous price.

"Continue, child."

"Father, the one that had been here as a new client, Maxamillian von Oberst, he gave me a message."

"Oh?"

"He said to tell you that whatever aims we had with this venture," Aryaan was almost puzzled in her expression, "would be better served with another benefactor. He stated that there was no ill will between his family and ours, and that it would better serve us if we contemplated severing ties with Syrus Bek in favor of the Prince and his court. I'm not entirely certain which royalty or court he referred to, but he said that, should you wish to pursue a more profitable relationship in the future, you should send a personal message to the Asylum for one Sith Bloodfyre."

The head of the family Hel said nothing further, continuing his leisurely course around the heavy destruction. All of the furniture was in a shattered state of chaos, the holding areas that would have been cages for the reborn beasts of the Asylum perhaps ripped apart by the very creatures they had been intended to hold. Tershik wrinkled his nose a bit at random intervals, as the smell of death and decay mixed with residual scents of sweat, and blood, and perhaps even life reborn. It was an odd sensation, an intoxicating aroma for those with a more morbid bend.

"Have we had word from Syrus Bek, my daughter?" Tershik Hel now turned fully to stare into the eyes of his daughter. The elderly man, though still powerful of body, caught everyone with his eyes, even his own children. He stood shy of two meters, with an entirely gray head of hair, regal in his dress, aristocratic in his features, but entirely menacing in his gaze. His eyes might have been the hypnotic tool of a conjurer, so deep and entrancing, penetrating that they were to all onlookers. Aryaan had been accustomed to her father's gaze over the course of her life, but even she found his gaze somewhat weakening.

"No father," she stated almost meekly under his focus. "We have had no communications with Bek, though this Oberst gentleman did say that his lord had sent work to Bek that they were not to be trifled with, and that, if Bek insisted we aid him in retaliation, that we ought to decline any such invitation. Again, he seemed to be almost... beneficent towards us. As though he were trying to draw our potential allegiance. Or at least a possible neutrality from us."

"Most interesting."

---

Thick, empty blackness seemed to suffocate the entirety of the former sanctuary of all things. Where before, darkness and death had gathered to pass on its secrets to each passing generation of those nearest oblivion, now, only silence hung over the place like a perpetual shroud, smothering all life, all sound, everything into the stillness of the grave. Nothing living moved, nor even gazed upon the still darkness of the great fortress. Any eyes that had glanced upon the interior of this terrible hall in recent years must have been those from beyond.

The sanctuary rested underneath the blackest waves of a dark sea. It had been under the watch of a dark hound of a dread lord. But even that guardian could not keep the great powers held within the sanctuary from meeting death's icy hand. Adversaries of the old way had sought to end the sway of another within this mighty hall, and had filtered madness and anger throughout those who might have laid friendly eyes upon this place. As the plague of enmity swept through the Force, the final battles had claimed all who had called this place home. Now, it was empty, covered in darkness and forgotten.

Shadows coalesced together slowly, into the form of a great beast, one that had never laid eyes, nor clawed foot upon this darkened hall. The guardian entered the sanctuary first, a herald to its masters that would be soon joining it. The shadows became bones, then muscle and sinew covering the structure of power and death. Finally, the shadows of the great beast brought completion to the form, covering all things with a flesh of absolute night. The guardian beast was infinitely, almost impressively black. Looking perhaps like a single-headed Cerberus, the great beast that guarded the next life from all those who were not meant to enter its demonic gates, the beast gazed upon the sanctuary. It's eyes were just as black as the rest of its form, and yet, they seemed to glow slightly red with anger and strength. The great head of what could only be described as perhaps a devil spawn hound as tall as a horse raised its great head into the air, testing the scent of the place.

Old death resided here. Old powers had been here, but not in several years. The beast knew the scent; it was intensely familiar to it. It served those who bore such a scent, though theirs was perhaps mildly different. The masters would be coming momentarily, and the guardian had yet to ensure the safety of those who would come. This hall had to be secure, completely empty, lest its charges be ambushed or preyed upon by those who had claimed their kin.

The great beast moved like lightning, faster than mortal eye could perceive, or than even imagination could give to its mammoth size. The beast did not need to stop to inspect every room, but rather, it simply sensed each room, every alcove, every hidden space within several meters of its proximity through the Force. The beast could not use the Force as Jedi or Sith might, but it was a creation of the Force, of all things that created life and death, and as such, it was intensely aware of anything that would exude its presence upon the Force. With the possible exception of those terrible holes in the Force, the Yuuzhan Vong, the guardian beast could sense anything within a few meters of itself simply by treading the grounds. After a patrol that took perhaps less than an hour, the beast had covered the entirety of the sanctuary that might have taken an entire day to patrol by lesser beings and mortal life forms. The sanctuary was truly empty, and its masters would be safe upon entry, at least for the time being.

The black hound, the guardian beast returned to the entryway it had used to come into this place, and raised its great head in the air, and let out what could only be one of the most terrible wails to ever fall upon any ears, mortal or not. It seemed as though the cry of a dread banshee, the clarion call of death's gaze itself. The howl seemed to last an eternity, much longer than the breath within the guardian beast's chest would have otherwise allowed. But the call had not come from the chest of the beast, nor within lungs that truly did not require breath. It had been the call throughout the Force, and upon the winds of death and destruction that the beast was formed of. Where mortals might have frozen over in death's grasp from hearing such a call, the masters would see it as a sign of welcome, and would shortly come. The beast now stood watch, patiently waiting for its lords and masters to come and restore this place to its strength and place of greatness. Soon enough, the armies would be called, and the herald would raise its trump and bring forth the darkest lord, and eternal master of all of the darkest beings who might have otherwise claimed this sanctuary as home.

Those who had called these great beings masters and teachers, those who had sought alliance with them, would need to be prepared and trimmed as proper warriors and allies, or servants and slaves. In either result, the beast would lead the charge to cull the unworthy. It would be up to them to show their worth, and claim place among the powerful, among the true masters of the sanctuary's power. The guardian beast knew what charge, what task it would be given. And the slightly red, glowing eyes seemed to burst into a fire of rage, anticipating the call to sweep death upon the unworthy.

---

Scion Altera, Rax Von-Klug, and the warrior known as Demosthenes sat awaiting the arrival of the House Summit. Messengers had been sent to gather each of the three together for a private meeting with the heads of House Tarentum. Each of the three was at least familiar with the others, perhaps Rax and Demosthenes more so. Rax and Demos had both been members of the infamous Tau Squadron at one point, and Scion, sometimes known as "Firebird," had been a decorated officer in the Imperial Remnant that the Brotherhood had at one time called allies. Each of the three was a decorated combat veteran in a number of campaigns, and had served Tarentum in the past with honor and distinguished themselves as officers and gentlemen.

"I suppose while we wait, we might as well order up a spread for us all to enjoy," Demos said offhandedly. "Sergeant, if you please. While we wait here for the Quaestor and Aedile, would you send out for refreshment? No, I know you're not an errand boy, neither would I suggest it. But as my friends and I would rather sit and discuss things while we wait, would you mind fetching some of the staff and having them bring something for all of us?"

"I'd be happy to, sir, but you all have access to Castle-wide communications as well as I do, and I was just going to suggest that to you," the heavily-armed soldier stated firmly. The man reached into his utility belt and pulled out a communications device. "Is there anything in particular you'd like me to have staff bring for you?"

"Alcohol, for sure," Demos smirked a bit. "Thank you Sergeant."

The man stepped out into the hall just outside of the room to complete the order and summon the Castle's culinary staff as requested. Demos leaned back in his comfortable chair, and glanced across the table at Scion, and then to Rax. "I hear the two of you have been called to fill the positions of Admiral of the Fleet and Commander, Air Guard respectively. Congratulations. I can guess that's likely why you're both here, to discuss fleet matters. But I have no idea why I'm here."

"Come now, Demosthenes," the look in Rax's eyes was almost knowing. "You and I have served with distinction and honor, as has Scion. It's obviously a military matter, with the three of us here. Perhaps some upcoming engagement, or a matter requiring the full cooperation of the fleet, and all of Tarentum's assets. The Admiral of the Fleet, along with two of the best pilots in Tarentum's numbers, one of which leads the Air Group in combat; there’s no way this isn’t about a naval muster of some kind.. Even you aren't that clueless."

"True."

"I'd see it as entirely likely that Rax is correct," Scion nodded. "With the recent actions against the syndicate families, and the fact that they have access to resources perhaps on the same level as we do, maybe we're going to be preparing for a retaliatory strike at Yridia IX."

"If that's the case, then we need to mobilize our units, and begin planning immediately for potentially striking them preemptively," Rax leaned in slightly, resting his elbows against the table. "We've been in recently, and we have intelligence capabilities already in the vicinity, if not actually on the surface of Yridia IX right now. We just need to determine the strength that the syndicates can mobilize within the next few hours. We could easily muster the Magnus Kaerner and her squadrons, move the ship into position to suggest orbital bombardment, and then send in our squadrons to cover their battle-ready ships and escort them to inspection points for crews to board and search them."

"We don't even need to search them," Demos maintained his position leaning back, "so much as just prevent them from getting underway in a combined assault. Keep them preoccupied just enough with the Kaerner and her assets in order to set up our own defenses, and make it obvious that we're ready if they decide to come at us. And then, maybe just seize a couple of their big ships in the name of Tarentum to let them know we're onto them. Kind of the proverbial smack upside the backs of their heads to let them know not to mess with us."

"Easily done," Scion nodded. "If that's the way this heads, I'll have the flag on alert immediately."

"Not necessary, my friends," Archean announced as he entered the room, followed shortly by the culinary staff with their trays of refreshment and drink. "But it's good to see you all keeping things fresh, and discussing the upcoming future. That does relate to what you've been called to meet here for."

"What are we being called here for, Archean?" Scion glanced over the trays of food, and bottles of drink that had been presented. He, Rax and Demosthenes picked at it a bit, and took drinks of their own preference, but generally kept their focus on this Aedile of the House.

"I figure we'll wait for Sith to arrive," Archean answered, but not to dodge the question. "It's appropriate for him to let you all in, I believe."

"When's the big man supposed to arrive?" Demos remained as nonchalant and plainly-spoken as ever.

"I was only a moment behind Archean," Bloodfyre entered, answering the question almost even before the doors had parted before him. "Forgive my tardiness, gentlemen, but I do appreciate you gathering here to meet with us. And, as Archean has stated, I do appreciate you also considering the options we have available for us, considering recent actions. This is one of the reasons I have asked you three to be here. You are insightful, capable, and your careers have established you as officers of a high caliber, and some of my closest friends within Tarentum."

"And we love you, too. What can we do for you?" Demos seemed to smirk a bit.

"Scion Altera," Bloodfyre perhaps ignored Demos for the moment, "you have been called to serve Tarentum as Admiral of the Fleet and head of the Navy, and you have accepted the call. For that, you have our thanks. Each of the ships needs new commanding officers, and while a few of our House have spoken with me about their desires to fill captaincy spots, I leave that to you to fill these openings."

"I'll speak to each."

"Apollo and Arturis Schulen have both spoken up recently," Sith continued, "as has Cesare. Though, I'm not entirely sure if Cesare has his focus entirely upon naval command. There's a darkness within him that may be calling out to other avenues of power. But still, you may wish to speak with him, in addition to the other two. And I'll make sure it's known that posts within Piranha are at your discretion. But Archean and I would like to keep informed on the happenings of the Navy."

Scion nodded once in recognition. Tarentum's Admiral had been in command of numerous positions within Tarentum. He had served within Tarentum’s Summit, as well as within its once-constituent Houses and other posts within the military. Scion had also been Captain of the Magnus Kaerner itself for a time, and regarded the chain-of-command as any seasoned officer; his was absolute command of the Navy, but it would still do to keep his superiors informed.

"Rax Von-Klug," Sith turned to his old friend, "you have returned and immediately went to work to bring order and structure to the Starfighter Corps, and your reputation and experience precedes you. As a veteran pilot of the Imperial Remnant, and indeed, of Tau, you not only have the capability to train our pilots to a new level of skill and capability, but you have perpetual ties to Tarentum, as well. As we've discussed the potential for the defense and offensive capabilities of Tarentum, it has become increasingly apparent to me that the Corps will move beyond what we have now, and you should move beyond, with it. As such, the reorganization of command structure within the Corps, and within military High Command has a seat for you as head of the Starfighter Corps, to sit with both the Admiral of the Fleet, and General of the Armies to help direct all matters relating to the military efforts and supremacy of Tarentum."

"You do get right to the point, don't you?" Rax's tone suggested humor, but the old pilot and Battlemaster's face spoke volumes as to his mind now going over training, expansion of the Corps and its operations, and how he would have to work to flesh out his command, the liaisons aboard Scion's ships, and more.

"Why shuffle around a point that we both knew would be made, anyway?" The Shaevalian kept his eyes upon Von-Klug for a few silent moments. "And honestly, I didn't think you'd sidestep the promotion to General, no matter how much work now gets put on your plate."

"As though I didn't have enough to do already," Rax rolled his eyes.

"You'll adapt."

"So, the question comes to me now, doesn't it," Demos didn't ask, but stated. "What am I doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious by now?" Archean stared at the veteran pilot with a mild smirk upon his lips. "The nonchalant warrior that tries as hard to get out of administrative work as much as possible, yet always maintains at least a finger or two in the chain of command whenever possible?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Demos shook his head slightly. "I just know that you boys are friends and family, and I do what I can to help keep Tarentum in a position of ascension."

"You're being called upon to do more, my friend," Bloodfyre turned his gaze on Demosthenes. "And you know it. Each of you is a warrior, an officer, and a powerful mark upon the Force. You know exactly why you're here."

"Doesn't mean I don't want to hear you say it," Demos returned the Sith Master's gaze.

“Demosthenes,” the Sith Master began, “you have continually tried to remind me that you have spent years as both a pilot, and a skilled warrior. You always offer your services as an assassin and a warrior, and House Tarentum is calling you into service, but not entirely as you may have understood. There is a great deal that you do know, my friend, and one of the things you should know by now is how much you have attained that you can pass on to a new generation.

“As such,” Bloodfyre stepped forward and extended his hand, prompting Demos to stand, his eyes glancing down towards the Sith Master’s outstretched hand, but not yet taking it, “we’re going to put you to work in the Army. Congratulations, General.”

Demos continued to stare at the Quaestor’s hand for a moment, then looked up into the Shaevalian’s eyes. “I haven’t accepted this call yet.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Sith’s smirk was either a visual pat on the shoulder of sorts, or perhaps a smack on the back of his head. Demos shook his head and took the Shaevalian’s hand, but the Quaestor held up a finger on his left hand, holding off any comments for the moment. “And before you say anything, no—you cannot make your first order of business to take a holiday and start fresh tomorrow.”

“You’re just a spoilsport, you know that Sith?” Demos smirked a bit, as well, shaking the Quaestor’s hand heartily.

“I suppose a congratulatory round on you is in order, General,” Rax stood, coming over to slap Demosthenes on the shoulder.

“I hope you get mounted by a rabid Ewok,” Demos returned with good humor. “Do you know how much work this dumps on me?”

“Were you asleep for my appointment just a few minutes ago, tool?” Rax smirked at the new head of the Army. “You’ll find no sympathy here.”

“Nor from the Navy,” it was Scion’s turn to congratulate his friend and peer in the High Command.

“And now, gentlemen,” Archean spoke up after a few moments, “there is much to speak about, and much to prepare for. We have interested parties who will be looking to serve with each of you.

“General Von-Klug,” the Aedile turned to Rax, “Zero Raven has volunteered to serve within the Starfighter Corps, and we have directed him to you. If he hasn’t been attempting to contact you yet, it’s probably a good idea for you to send something his way. He’s been a dedicated member, and has gained some experience in his time with us. We’re looking forward to great things from him, and every effort you spend with him will be a reward for him, for the Corps, and for Tarentum.”

“Of course,” Rax nodded.

“General Demosthenes, Dranik Tarentae has been one who has volunteered in some ways to work within the Army,” Archean continued. “We’ve had no direct communications with him yet. Anshar has been keeping tabs on him, and as he’s be away on personal endeavors, we expect him to return at some point, but we are still sending messages to him, and passing on vital information to him through Anshar. There will be others who are interested in an Army command or appointment, though, and know that you are not alone in this. The fine men and women of our forces are skilled and disciplined, but they will respond to quick, emphatic changes in command.”

“Yeah, I’ve been in a few changes of the guard like this,” Demos shrugged slightly. “I’ll get everyone on the same page. We’ll do fine.”

“We have no doubts about that,” Archean had a smirk of a grin on the left corner of his mouth. “It’s very possible that, when the Romanae brothers return, you may be able to get them involved in your forces to supplement your command structure.”

“My friends,” Bloodfyre called on their attention, “it is also worth noting that our friend and Aedile here will generally be working with you to represent the Summit on the High Command. He will keep me informed of things, and there may be times when I sit in council with you, but Archean is my peer, and my equal, and he has full authority to authorize and approve issues for the High Command that require Summit input and discussion.”

“Good to know,” Scion nodded informally to Archean. “Exactly how in-the-know and involved do you want to be, Archean?”

“You all have full authority to run your components of our military as you see fit,” Archean answered. “There’s no need for micromanagement. My approval will only be required when you all believe things need to be coordinated from a Summit level, or that will require full House cooperation and cohesion.”

Each of the five men took a drink in hand and saluted each other, and the success of the House unitedly. They continued to speak of a few other matters for perhaps an hour, watching the potential future of the House’s military unfold even as the seconds passed on into history.

---

“Sith Bloodfyre,” Wuntila’s holographic form hailed him as the channel between the two men opened. “What can I do for you and Tarentum today, my friend?”

“This isn’t a call for aid this time, Wuntila,” Bloodfyre nodded slightly in greeting. “Rather, I wished to impart to you and Zandro my thanks for coming to our assistance with the issue on Yridia IX.”

_“Absolutely,”>/i> the Proconsul replied. <i>“We both have holdings and projects that we needed to protect at the Asylum, and it was only appropriate that we share in the burden of it.”</i>

“Your own actions assisted us greatly, and I wanted to impart my thanks,” the Sith Master continued. “I wasn’t able to reach Zandro, so I wanted to relay it through you. Beyond that, you specifically made a difference in the actions against the Hel family, so I wanted to speak with you personally, as well.”

<i>“Of course,”</i> Wuntila’s blue image bowed slightly. <i>“Is there anything else I can do for you today?”</i>

“Pass on my thanks to Arcona,” Bloodfyre folded his hands together and leaned his lips against his clasped fists for a moment, “and I suppose be prepared. I sense things coming in the future that may have us pitted together against outside forces.”

<i>“I wouldn’t have it any other way,”</i> Wuntila smirked a bit. <i>“And neither would the rest of the Clan.”</i>

“Tarentum stands ready to assist whenever forces array against us, my friend,” Sith nodded, reaching for the terminal. “We’ll speak again soon.”

Sith tapped a key and the channel closed, after Arcona’s Proconsul had nodded, and likely done the same on his end. Sith leaned back and closed his eyes, pondering the visions and sensations that had been relayed to him through ripples in the Force of recent.

“Perhaps much sooner than we may even realize…”_