Team Members

3317 - Ood Bnar
6109 - Celahir Erinos Arconae
14381 - Lonewolf
2778 - Rins’zler

The LIGO installation on Dajorra detected anomalous gravitational wave readings that can’t be explained by the movements of any known stellar bodies or ships. While their exact source is unknown, there is a pattern to the waves that suggests they aren’t natural. Further examination by the Dajorra Intelligence Agency suggested that whomever is behind the attack on Dajorra’s infrastructure is using a gravity generator - likely a smaller version of those found on an interdictor cruiser - to communicate. Through the insightful work of a number of Arconan members, the code was cracked and the message decrypted. Though the contents of that message haven’t been released, the Consul has ordered that teams be formed to track down the source of the message.

Due to the unpredictable and ephemeral nature of the transmission, and despite the DIA’s best efforts, we’ve been unable to determine the exact source. We have, however, found a handful of likely origin points. Your team’s mission is to explore one of these origin points and look for signs of the transmission’s source. Take out the transmitter, if possible, and report any intelligence recovered to your House Summit.

Origin Points

You are free to use one of the following locations as the origin point in the prompt, however you are not required to do so. If you do use one of the following, feel free to flesh out the location as you see fit.

Dajorran Orbit

Though sensor sweeps have come up empty, it’s possible that a ship in orbit - properly cloaked - could be broadcasting the gravitational wave that the DIA intercepted. Intelligence Analysts have worked up the most likely candidate locations based on the LIGO readings, however there’s no way to speculate on the nature of the ship, its size or crew complement. One thing is sure - its crew will almost certainly be heavily armed and well prepared for an assault.

Zratis Arms Manufactory (Korda, Selen)

Nestled in the Atikan Valley in the southern continent between the equator and the southern polar ice cap, Korda is Selen’s industrial heart. Korda is the second oldest city on Selen, and has cemented its role at the forefront of industrial manufacture. This has come at a cost, however. Endless factories and manufacturing plants spew smog and debris, polluting the air and marring the surrounding countryside. Only the richest of Korda’s inhabitants - the industrial bourgeoisie - can afford to live above ground, given the need for expensive air-filtration systems.

In the center of Korda lies the Zratis Arms Manufactory, where the Zratis Arms Corporation - the single largest arms manufacturer in the Dajorra System - fabricates the bulk of their weapons. Within its durasteel walls is a veritable city of heavy machinery, supply warrens and transport and piping tunnels. In addition to whatever forces Lorden might have brought to bear, the manufactory houses one of the most advanced automated defense systems on the planet. Automated turrets, poison gases and an array of biometrically locked doors would be the least worry of anyone attempting ingress.

Abandoned Oriens Obscurum Temple (Boral)

Boral was once the home of House Oriens Obscurum, its particularly slow rotation making it an ideal location for protecting the Clan and allowing fighters to take-off whenever they were needed. The moon, while still uninhabitable, has continued with its massive terraforming project that is slowly transforming the satellite into a living, breathing world. Currently however, Boral is a large rock, pock-marked with deep craters and jutting spires.

Nestled among these craters and peaks is the abandoned temple and dormitory that once housed Oriens Obscurum. Though the planet has been abandoned for over a decade, the occasional traveller will still tell tales of frightful encounters with vengeful spirits when wandering too close to the forsaken rock. No doubt, if such stories are true, attempting to enter the temple itself would prove hazardous at best.

Criteria

In order for a participant to qualify for points, they must make at least two posts of 500 words each or three posts with a combined total of at least 1500 words. The qualifying members of each team will be accorded the placement score of their Run-On (e.g., all qualifying members of the winning run-on team will receive 1st Place).

May the best Run-On win!

8 hours ago,

Boral,
Valley of Oriens Obscurum
Small meditation tower (within sight of the Temple, yet far enough from the old place to be survivable for those who dare enter).

The restless spirits gave the Warlord a wide berth. His essence carried familiarity to them. Ancient records in the archives of the Academy had confirmed the old tablets kept in the consulary vault on Judecca, items salvaged and hidden away during the Exodus. The story was old, forgotten to most… The old days, when the Dark Council had struck down Scholae Palatinae and given its survivors a choice: Death or Arcona. Those that joined Arcona, had founded the unit in which’ ruins the Neti now wandered. The spirits recognised a senior Arconan, yet they also sensed a former Palatinean Emperor. It could potentially give the Equite enough time to get past the ghosts or dominate them if he so chose… Then again, he gave off energy signatures of both Arcona and Scholae Palatinae, meaning it could potentially enrage any spirit he encountered.

This ruin held secrets beyond the spirits though. To the old Equite, the presence of its members still shone in the dark places of the Dark Side. The deep areas where madness reigned recalled the days this place was home to some of the most infamous Sith to sit on the Dark Council. During the Exodus, artefacts had been brought along. Sithspit, even the old pillowcase abandoned in the corner had been brought along. It probably still held small echoes of a young Quaestor who would lead his fellow Dark siders into the Exodus.

“I wonder if the chairs in the Aedile office will still carry the dark taint of the late Darth Sarin.” Ood mumbled to himself as he made his way deeper into the ruins of an old meditation outpost. “Can’t say I dislike the atmosphere here. Should ask the Shadow Lady permission to settle down here. Or at least install a secret laboratory.”

As he passed a window, the old creature noticed something unusual. “A ship? A ship approaches the dead world of Oriens Obscurum?” the Sith rasped, voice still unused to the odd atmospheric qualities of Boral, “hmm, note to self: install sunlamps in this place at next opportune moment.”

“It’s written down Professor!” a young voice reached the Neti’s ears.

A brief moment of calm sanity descended on the old being, “One is truly insane, if the voices in one’s head respond in such a way you cannot recognise them for what they are at first. Come now, let’s go meet our guests. No need to expose them to the dark spectres in this place, they may not react so friendly to the one’s that are arriving after all.” The fleeting sanity had all but gone by the time the Neti turned to retrace his steps to the landing pad. The 42 voices that replied in affirmative to the last statement proving once and for all that the moment had gone – as the only living being on Boral moved to intercept whomever dared breach the self styled quarantined world.

In the distance, the Spires of the Temple of Oriens Obscurum rose to claw defiantly at the skies. The Glans of its massive central spire rising rigidly towards the stars. Within its depths, an intact copy of the Clan records rested. Secrets, information long since deleted from the Citadel systems could still exist there. Who knew what had been erased by Mad Mejas or even Ood himself during one of his whimsical phases.

As the Neti reached the landing pad, watching a shuttlecraft come in for a landing, he could sense someone with a unique signature in the Force. The old Neti had never made many inroads into the old guard, yet here was a presence that felt … interesting. He knew the youngling that approached. He had personally recruited him into the Academy years ago. Yet the old Neti had not yet had the pleasure to socialise with the Kiffar “Prince” of Arcona.

‘The stories told of a weapon forged by Masters Doto and Sashar made this a meeting the old tree had long desired to have. A first meeting amongst Equites was not as deadly as one between Elders, but the Warlord assumed that half the lethality there was caused by the physical scarring of the Dark Side making most Elders uglier than the rear end of a rancor suffering from a nasty bout of violent diarrhea mixed with an infestation of intestinal worms. They probably got scared upon seeing one another and assumed the other was a rakghoul until the opponent started to fling lightning back.’

‘Oh well, lost track of my own thought processes there. Back to sensing who is approaching, aside from the young Erinos that is…’

‘A knight, young, relatively untested at that… Was he with us at Korriban I wonder?’

‘Another knight, also a youngling? What did Celahir bring with him?’

‘Oh well, they’ll prove their worth or I’ll have victi…volunteers to test my new transplant skills on’

As the shuttle touched down into a perfect landing, the last thought coursing through the Warlord’s mind was a startling one.

“They let the droid land the shuttle?”

These words echoed across the wasteland, reaching the ears of the three passengers who had just started walking down the ramp…

12 hours ago,

Selen, Dajorra System
The Citadel,
Training center

Rins’zler stood alone in the middle of the target range - several rooms, located deep within the Citadel, had been converted into a combat training center - that was designated for the use of the various force users in Arcona. These spaces were specifically tailored for the unusual combat techniques that force users were known for using. Before him lay a table in which were a dozen freshly crafted throwing blades of various shapes and sizes. The mandalorian picked one up in his hand and - reaching out with the force - the star shaped blade started to hover above his palm Three others soon joined it. Each spinning and looping around the others. Again the Knight reached out with the force, this time to activate the training program he had loaded into the computer. It started to feed the information into the training droids and before too long they began to emerge from their alcoves. The room darkened. He wanted to feel the room and its space rather than see it. The other knives lifted from the table and began to swirl around the grey Jedi - his simple combat suit meant that there were no robes to impede his movements. Rins’zler flicked out his hands and three blades shot away. He both heard and felt the impacts against the training droids. Instantly, low powered blaster bolts began to illuminate the darkened space. As if by an unseen signal, the Knight started moving, allowing the force to boost his agility slightly. Relying on both honed reflexes and the Force to know when danger was approaching, blast bolts screamed past him as he flicked blade after blade towards their intended targets.

Fifteen minutes passed and the wall computer beeped to signal the program had finished. Rins’zler was soaked, his combat suit stained with sweat. However he felt refreshed. Noticing some slight carbon scoring on his suit, he realized his reflexes still needed a bit of work. He called the blades back to him. Pleased with his latest creations, he returned them to the clamps on his belt. The mandalorian was about to leave when he realised he was not alone. Flinging one of his blades towards the intruder, he was startled to see it stop mid-flight and hang in the air. From the doorway emerged Celahir and Rins’zler walked over to greet his friend and superior, collecting the still hanging blade on his way.

Celahir laughed “Is this the way you greet all your friends?”

“Only when they sneak up on me in a darkened room! What’s up? It is not like you to come and find me in person at this hour…” the Knight responded, clearly enjoying the chance to talk to the Quaestor.

“Walk with me. We can talk on the way. You need to get your equipment!”

With that the two beings stalked from the room and moved further into the maze of corridors that made up the Citadel.

They walked in silence for a short distance before Celahir remarked: “I hear you’re living on what’s left of your ship now. You are aware that we have space available for you within the Citadel. Even with your … eclectic … collection of stuff.”

“Yes, I have been told on many occasions. But the Shadowborn has been my home for so long now and with Jen’ika incorporated with its systems I am loath to get rid of her. If I could find a way for Jen’ika to exist beyond the walls of the ship … perhaps I would move my stuff into the Citadel. The workshops are much better than what I have. But I suppose it’s part of my stubbornness.”

Celahir paused for a moment and then responded, “Perhaps once we have gotten through the current crisis I can help you find a solution for Jen’ika.”

“I would appreciate that my friend. So why are we taking this walk? What’s up? You still haven’t told me.”

Celahir stopped and looked around - the area of the citadel they were in was empty - but it was clear he still did not trust it, “Let us keep walking. I will tell you what I can once we are on your ship … I assume it’s still in dry dock in the main docking area is it not? We are close to it now, aren’t we?”

“Yes, it’s just round the corner. It doesn’t take a Grand Master to know you’re uneasy about something though. I have to admit I have felt a sense of looming dread over the past few days, I assumed I was just picking up on external feelings. But now - seeing you like this - I wonder if it’s not something more.”

The two continued in silence until they reached the Shadowborn. Rins’zler activated the access ramp and the pair entered the ship. The ramp closed behind them, not as silently as Rins’zler would have liked - he would have to get one of his droids to look into that - “We’re secure now. Jen’ika keeps the ship free of internal and external snoopers. So what’s going on?”

“We have a mission. I cannot disclose many details yet, but that may change in the future. I have been tasked with gathering a team. I know you have experience with ‘specialist’ missions - the type that requires knowledge to be shared on a need to know basis, So I will only tell you that we are required to meet with another at a set of coordinates., A droid will be piloting the shuttle to get us there and once we arrive, I will be able to provide you with more information. That is all you are allowed to know at this time.”

“Interesting, it’s been awhile since I had to engage in such a mission. But I am sure we will be fine. Do you still have access to the sub-armoury, I suspect we may need to take some more unusual pieces with us just to be sure we get back alive. Let me go grab my gear and I can pull together a list of what we should take”

“Thanks, I knew I had picked the right person for this role. Incidentally, do you have secure comms here? I need to contact the other member of our team and let him know what to get from the armoury and suppliers.”

Rins’zler walked over to one of the wall panels and tapped on three sections of it - the panel lifted up into a wall cavity revealing a small coms unit - “Here use this while I grab my gear.”

Rins’zler rushed to his armoury and started to sort through his equipment. He quickly donned his Beskar’gam and his death mask, making sure that the scomp links were in working order. Over that he wore his robes and on his way out he grabbed a handful of throwing blades, which he clamped to his gauntlets before grabbing some explosives, extra power packs and his tool kits. As he ran back to Celahir he strapped the tool pouches to his thigh plates and connected his lasers to the power packs. Checking the targeting systems as he ran, he was happy that everything was working. He pulled a data pad from his left pocket and quickly made some notes on gear that they could need: explosives, com equipment, support weapons etc… Enough that it would not overburden them, yet give them the flexibility to counter whatever they may - potentially - face. He reached Celahir who was discussing requirements with Lonewolf over the secure comms and handed him the data pad.

Celahir quickly skimmed it then turned to look at Rins’zler, “Do you think we will need all of this?”

“I have no idea! But if it was me? I wouldn’t want to walk into any unknown situation with any less. Better to be over prepared, than dead!”

Celahir nodded and read out the list to Lonewolf. The com image vanished and he turned to Rins’zler, “Shall we make our way to the shuttle? Lonewolf is gathering our equipment and I have comm’d ahead to authorise his access to the sub-armoury. The two Arconans left the Shadowborn and made their way to the main hangar They passed the short time discussing recent events and making the odd joke, they reached the hangar that contained the shuttle just in time to see Lonewolf guiding a grav platform through the main doors into the bay. The thing was loaded down with all manner of equipment.

Rins’zler turned to Celahir, “What on earth are you getting me into this time?” and with that the duo entered the hangar to help their teammate load the shuttle…

Present,

Monumental Entrance Platform,
Boral, Dajorra System

The darkness seeped from between the old flagstones. Behind the group, a stairway led down towards a small encampment within a – for now – secured courtyard. The voyage had been tiring, yet now that they were here, it was all but forgotten…

The dark entrance loomed ahead, the warm summer day seemingly unable to beat back the ethereal cold pervading the air.

“Great suffering clouds this place…” the Neti murmured, eyes closed and one hand outstretched, twisted branchlike fingers reaching out as if to seemingly touch the intangible, “I sense pain on the winds.”

The Quaestor aimed his gaze at the Warlord for a long moment before turning to the Journeymen, “You heard Treebeard guys, reinforce your shielding and keep vigilant!” Celahir sent out a quick mental probe towards the temple before seemingly thinking better of it and recoiling his presence behind the thick shields he had spent years developing.

“You will see things in there. Things that are impossible, people that are dead, they will scare you.” Ood stated, slipping into a baritone teaching voice that easily held attention. “This place is darkness personified due to what happened here in the past. It will try to tempt you with your desires. It will try to corrupt you and enslave you to its will. It will not lie but twist everything to suit its purposes.”

Rins’zler looked up from where he had been inspecting this equipment, “How can we defend against this? How do we fight it, tell us!”

“Calm yourself young Knight, you cannot fight this.” the former Praetor muttered. “You need to – not – fight. The dark is conflict, something you gray ones seem to have forgotten. If you try to fight it, it has already beaten you. Either center yourself in the Light and use it to illuminate the Temple’s defenses, as if setting off a flashbang grenade in a dark dungeon. Alternatively, embrace your inner Darkness and try to hide yourself from the defenses by becoming – what appears to be – a part of it. Both are dangerous though, so pick your strength…” With a crazed giggle, a manic gleam entered the Neti, “Or be like me, even the Darkness of this place should think twice before attempting to enter my mind… I have never tried to see what would happen though, could entering my mind drive a building mad? I may have to return here someday to look into that.” With a final giggle, the mad Equite imposed his will upon the Force and threw himself into the endless eddies of the dark side of the Force as he wandered across the threshold and into the Temple Antechamber.

A chilling wind picked up as the weather started to change. The airpockets generated by the sharp geometric design of the Temple superstructure creating shrill – disturbing – screamlike sounds that began to bounce off the pillars and decorative stones of the courtyard and Temple grounds, throwing eerie echoes in all directions.

“The Temple of Screams! An apt description isn’t it? And not alone because of what went on inside this place…” Celahir murmured before following the older creature into the facility, trusting that the two Knights would do their duty and follow his lead.

8 hours ago,

Temple Grounds
Boral, Dajorra System

The party made their way towards the temple, its crumbling structure was covered in vines. If you looked hard enough, you could still make out carvings of faces and symbols. This whole place was disturbing.

Wolf used the control pad to guide the grav platform down the cracked and crumbling pavement that formed the surface of the road. The path lead towards two great obelisks that flanked the roadway, forming a gateway of some kind.

Celahir sent Rins’zler on ahead to see if he could pick up anything on his scanners. Additionally, he was to make sure their route was clear.

The Knight carefully walked down the long path towards the disheveled temple and its courtyard in the distance. The broken statues that lined the road seemed to almost be alive. He had his sensors set to maximum and was picking up and flagging every source of movement, heat and energy. He couldn’t be too careful in this environment. Rins’zler walked through the vast opening that was flanked by the two obelisks and turned to look at them. Their surface was dark and glassy yet they seemed to flow and writhe like oil. Part of him was disturbed by this, but another was intrigued. The Arconan reached out and touched one of the obelisks, the surface was solid, yet oily. He could detect little else about them. As he passed through the entrance he suddenly became aware of not being alone, he felt as if he was being watched by a thousand eyes. The sensation surrounded him, as if coming from all sides. In the back of his mind he could hear a faint voice that seemed garbled and confused. It was trying to tell him something in faint whispers. The Knight continued on his way. He commed Celahir as he walked in order to report what he had found so far. After receiving an acknowledgement, he stretched out with the force. He wanted to feel as well as see his surroundings in order to get a better understanding of what they faced. As he did, the tendrils of smoke began to wither and move away, as if whatever he was doing was anathema to them. The voices however were getting stronger and clearer the closer he got to the temple.

Back with the equipment the team were just passing through the gap between the obelisks. Both Celahir and Ood seemed unaffected by the tendrils of fog that emerged from the stone, nor did they seem phased by the sense of being watched. Lonewolf was another story. The Knight stopped suddenly, the grav platform almost running him down before it’s proximity sensors stopped it. Celahir and Ood turned round to see what was going and they saw the Knight stood still staring at the floor where the fog was wrapping itself around his feet. As suddenly as it began, the fog dissipated and Lonewolf appeared to return to himself.

The Knight looked around, he shook his head as if to clear it, “What the hell was that?”

Celahir and Ood looked at each other and the Neti responded, “This place is filled with spirits from the past, I suspect one sensed your hesitation, and tried to capitalize on it. I suggest we keep moving.”

Up ahead Rins’zler was continuing his scouting. Suddenly his senses and mask picked up movement, it was coming from somewhere on the grounds, beyond his sight. Perhaps obscured by the debris. Rins’zler disliked this situation The overgrown areas and debris fields created ambush areas that could only be cleared by springing the potential trap. Reaching out with the force he tried to sense what was beyond. He couldn’t sense any lifeforms. Yet there were faint echoes of the force. More importantly, he could detect hatred, mindless hatred. That was all the information he needed. The Arconan reached into his robes and removed two tubular objects, Class-A Thermal Detonators. The type favoured by the Empire. After depressing a combination of buttons on them, he threw both in different directions… He quickly ducked behind the nearest wall to await the detonations.Yet no sound greeted him. Looking up, he found both spheres - deactivated - hovering directly in front of his face. The Neti looked incandescent in rage as he held the devices in place with a greater power and level of control than Rins’zler had sensed in a long time. Most Force users of this level kept their power tightly controlled unless angered or provoked.

“Have you taken leave of your senses, Fool! Why don’t you bring the entire structure down before we can even enter it. Do you have any idea of the structural integrity of that Temple? Or of the tunnel network and the catacombs? Do any of those run under this courtyard? Do any secret tunnels run below us? I think not! So keep the explosions to a minimum or I’ll use find another use for you… I do believe I can convince the Shadow Lady that it was necessary.”

Feeling chastised and angry, he turned to respond, “I have been blowing things up since I was eight. I know what I am doing, but perhaps your actions were for the best. You know this place better than me.” recovering the cylindrical detonators and placing them in their proper places on his belt, “At least we can use these later if needed. I have preset these beauties with variable blast radius and shape. hey shouldn’t be enough to bring down the building on top of us.”

The knight wandered closer to the temple. Its monolithic structure lay before him. Unlike the rest of the complex, it seemed to be largely intact. It’s huge entrance lay atop a monumental stairway and was seemingly sealed by darkness and shadows. Rins’zler suddenly became aware of the voices. He could understand them! They spoke of horrors and ghosts. However before he could try to make sense of what they were saying, they seemingly stopped.

The grounds around him were suddenly shrouded in silence. No movement, even when he stretched out with the force he could sense nothing. Rins’zler suddenly became aware that something was beckoning him to enter the Temple. He could feel something trying to pull him in, it was as if a magnet was trying to bring him closer. Rins’zler was suddenly aware that he was moving towards the door, his legs carrying him towards the black portal. The pulling sensation seemed to be getting stronger and stronger the closer he got. He could feel a soft caress flowing around him, almost like a dark hand caressing him.

Then he heard the voice, “Before you lies the answer you seek. You want to save your wife? We can help you do that! Bring her back perhaps? Come young Jedi… Enter the temple! Give in! SUBMIT TO OUR POWER!”” As the voice lost its allure and warped into enraged darkness,he could feel an ancient presence brush aside the dark presence to a certain degree. Hundreds of voices screaming in a maddened fit, “He’s MINE! At least for now. Begone! This one belongs to the Neti!”

It was then that Rins’zler felt something click within his mind. Ceasing his forward motion, He noticed he was mere meters away from the stairway leading up to the Temple., He could still hear the voice and feel the pull, but it was diminished, as if it had found a new target. Without warning a great scream emerged from the entrance, throwing Rins’zler clear of the foot of the stairs and into a clear area that was once part of a grand parade ground. If it wasn’t for his Beskar’gam, he would probably have been seriously injured. As it was his armour took most of the impact. Despite his daze he heard the sounds of running and saw Celahir appear over him, offering him a hand to help him up.

The Kiffar spoke as he pulled RIns’zler up off the ground and helped him steady himself, “What the kriff happened.”” Celahir paused and looked at Ood “That scream… What was that? And how did it throw a grown man forty feet across an open space?”

Ood looked over at the Quaestor “This place is alive. Can you not feel it? Or even hear it?” the Neti chuckled to himself “That was what happens when the corrupted spirit of the last Battlemaster Gatekeeper encounters the fragmented mind of a rather strong and experienced Warlord who has delved deeply into the esoteric secrets of the dark side of the Force. Let us set up camp in this clearing, Our window is running out.”

The group began to set up their shelters close to the stairway, shifting debris to create a makeshift wall to ensure a semblance of security. After the scream, even Ood seemed determined to hurry up. Rins’zler deployed sensors and remote weapons around the perimeter of the camp, then set about getting some food ready. His nerves were still somewhat shaken after what he has experienced, he hoped a decent meal would help settle him down. Then he realized something, “What window?”

“Do you think this should be this easy to accomplish?” the Neti began to grin, “Several of the Clan’s strongest are currently in deep meditation, making sure the strongest echoes and spirits within this Temple are not awakened by our disturbance. We won’t have to deal - hopefully - with any Elders or - Force Forbid - an echo of one of the Dark Lords that once called this place home! Now get back to work, we have about 8 hours of rest before we can safely enter the structure.”

24 hours ago,

Celahir’s Workshop
Arcona Citadel, Selen

Celahir was sat in his workshop in the Citadel as he received the holocall.

Being one of their best slicers it meant that his wisdom was sought out often by both the summit and members of his Clan. It wasn’t uncommon for the Consul of Arcona to reach out to the Kiffar for aid, either, and a whisper in the Force revealed the caller to him.

Celahir answered the call and immediately the Consul’s tone was enough to tell him the severity of her query. Atyiru explained, with hurried precision, an incident involving an unknown party engaging in raids to steal Arconan resources and their communications hadn’t been cracked to date. There was, however, a rising suspicion that the Citadel mainframe had been compromised and important data which could aid to tracking down the infiltrators was deleted. It was for this reason that Celahir was tasked to go to the old House Oriens Obscurum temple on Boral and retrieve a hardcopy of the mainframe’s database.

It had been years since anyone had set foot on Boral, however for whatever odd reason, Ood had appeared to have made a visit without anyone’s knowledge. Whilst Ood and Celahir knew of each other rather well, they had never had the pleasure of meeting in person. Why the Neti was on Boral was a mystery that would likely never be solved, if he even knew himself how he got there. The newly appointed Quaestor hurriedly grabbed his gear and was about to set out to go to Boral when the Shadow Lady contacted him once again. She asked him to take along two of Qel-Droma’s Knights, feeling it was a good opportunity to expose them to both the dangers and mysteries that shrouded the Shadow Clan. And what place would do a better job than Boral to show them horrors they couldn’t possibly imagine.

As Celahir left the workshop and disconnected from the Consul he contacted both Knights to see if they could simply meet at the shuttle Atyiru had prepared for them or if they needed to drop by any other places before embarking on their journey.

Landing Zone
Boral, Dajorra System

“They let the droid land the shuttle?”

The voice oddly did not match the figure. The grizzled creature seemed aeons old, yet the voice belied a youthful energy.

“Hubba hubba! Me likie!” muttered Celahir as he openly looked the figure up and down before loudly responding to the comment, “How else would we be flying to a location that none of us are allowed to know the exact landing procedures of?”

“For good reason.” The Neti responded, looking up at the Temple structure behind him. “Well then, let’s get going. There is a deadline to keep after all… Oh right, briefing! Kiddies, we’re going to march through these deadened barren wastelands. Up to that Temple structure over in yonder distance. We are then going to breach that facility, as quietly as possible, and move into the deepest, most secure sublevel. There lies a backup mainframe of the Oriens Obscurum computer system. This contains a copy of the clan database. For some reason, our Shadow Lady suspects someone accessed and altered data from the active databases belonging to Galeres and Qel-Droma as well as the Citadel mainframe. In there lies an uncorrupted system, guaranteed not to have been touched!”

“How can you be certain it’s a secure version? If they penetrated the Citadel…could they not have gained entrance into this system?” one of the Knights, Rins’zler, asked while he fiddled with a series of blades attached to his tactical vest.

“Possible, yet highly unlikely!” Ood grinned maniacally “This place was once home to rather powerful beings. They left impressions in the Force! When this world was decimated, it created an imbalance in the Force that used these echoes. This place once housed several of the strongest and darkest minds the Brotherhood has ever seen. Though weaker then the actual beings, this place is the most well defended place in the Dajorra system. If only for the simple fact that not even Arcona has been able to penetrate the Temple in the last few decades.”

“I’d like to penetrate that temple myself.” the Quaestor muttered, as he ignored the structure in the distance, preferring to keep his focus on closer flora-based targets.

Not having heard the comment, Ood turned to walk off the platform. Starting down the ramp towards the dusty plains, the Neti continued his speech, “Not even we can breach those defenses. Luckily we won’t need to. In several hours, a group of the strongest Elders allied with the Shadow Lady will go into concerted meditation. They will give us a window of one hour to enter the temple, bypass the defensive computer systems, reach the objective and get back out again. If you wander off from the group, you get left behind. If you draw the attention of something or wake something up, you get left behind. The Elders will keep anything at bay that is too strong for us to handle. We won’t be dealing with echoes of the Grand Masters, Dark Councillors or Elders that called this place home. Though, keep on your guard, this will still be dangerous!”

8 hours ago,

Underway to the Temple Grounds
Boral, Dajorra System

“You know, growing up rather unknown to the Force, even though I have plenty of experience of its power, I will never cease to be at the very least very intrigued by some of its applications” the Kiffar thought out loud. With the Neti still very much predisposed to whatever it was that went on in his mind, the two Knights weren’t sure how to respond. Celahir, realising he just spoke out loud decided to quickly attempt to remove the attention from himself. “So, Ood, a question if I may?” The Warlord responded somewhat shocked, being pulled back to reality by the sudden mention of his name. “Yes, yes go ahead, ask away!” The Quaestor somewhat sarcastically asked a question he no doubt would receive an obscure answer: “What is it, that brought you here to Boral? I mean, aside from the lack of living people, it’s not exactly a quiet place away from the Citadel?”

It was not an obscure answer he received, better yet, his question was met with completely silence as his clanmate already sank far too deep back into his own thoughts. Celahir himself quite the peculiar thinker simply shifted his gaze from the Neti to Temple’s main tower, still growing bigger creating a rather impressive presence combined with seemingly murderous taste to the Force here.

The entirety of the remaining walk towards the Temple Grounds was travelled in near silence, aside from Ood making the odd sound whilst tilting his head every now and again. The Knights seemed to be in a combination of petrification and excitement as the exchanged looks between themselves and the Temple. They too must’ve felt the sheer power held within. Arriving at the grounds, the silence was broken by Ood. Instructing Lonewolf how to give the party access to the temple.

Two weeks later

Selen, Dajorra system
Arcona Citadel
Hangar bay

As the shuttle settled down, the Shadow Lady and her escort moved towards the ramp. The kiffar Quaestor stepped down the ramp, kicking the smouldering droid out before him, “Tree’s going through landing procedure. Best to have this droid molten down btw, something tried to possess it and crash us into your private tower.”

Atty blinked, “Interesting and … odd. Did you get the core?”

A small device hovered into her reach as the Neti strode down from the shuttle. “It was easier to just cut out the hardwired memory core and run. Also, something … ate the thumbdrive you provided.” Behind the Warlord, a set of medical beds was being rushed out by a team of medics. Two weeping knights were laid on them in foetal positions, reliving the last weeks of horrors and completely ignorant of their surroundings.

Ood poked Celahir and started making odd, disturbing motions with his branches, seeminly imitating a tentacle monster. A loud sobbing noise broke out from the side as Lonewolf caught sight of it. A snort from the Kiffar resulted in a grin from the old tree as the Quaestor started portraying another disturbing sight.

Clapping his arm around Celahir, Ood led his new partner in crime out of the hangar and towards sights unseen, while describing a good bottle of brandy he was gifted 150 years prior. The last thing Atty heard from the two was the booming voice of the wizened being declaring the excursion had been fun as well as inquiring about other fun dark and dank tombs in the system and their potential as holiday venues.