last_kallig | Entries tagged with oom

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani has been out and about in the countryside the last few days, causing more trouble for the Resistance and rescuing Imperial soldiers. This is partially to keep busy while Tyrek works on making the mutagen and partially to avoid being anywhere near Sobrik. The major's son, a Sith, has likely arrived on Balmorra, and distance is the easiest way to get out of being 'introduced' to the son by his proud father.

Her holocom buzzes with a call and she has the feeling that her luck has run out when she sees that the call is from Major Bessiker. "Sith - I'm sorry to interrupt you. I'm sure you're very busy."

She can hear the brittleness in his tone under the cheer, something is very wrong. "I can tell by your voice that something has gone awry, Major."

"I...yes," the Major replies, swallowing. "It's, it's my son," the Major replies, voice cracking. "He arrived shortly after you went out into the field, but then he went after some....'holocron', I think he called it." Ibani's blood runs cold. Force, let that holocron NOT be the artifact that she's been sent after.

"And you haven't heard back from him?"

The Major shakes his head. "A few moments ago I got what I think was a distress signal from him. He must be in trouble! Please, I need your help," the Major begs. "I can't go to him, but we've narrowed the origin of the signal down to an abandoned building near the Republic crater outpost. I would guess that the Republic's captured him, which means a lot of fighting to free him."

She can't bring herself to refuse Bessiker's plea to rescue him. "It wouldn't do to leave a Sith in the hands of the Republic," Ibani replies. "I'll make my way to this outpost and investigate." The Major sags visibly in relief.

"Thank you, Sith. And good luck."

There is indeed a lot of fighting involved in reaching Bessiker's son. If not for her ability to hide with a force cloak and take them by surprise she doubts she would have made it halfway down the crater never mind into the prison complex itself. Most of the prison cells are empty, red force-field doors containing nothing. But once cell is definitely occupied.

"Hiran Bessiker, I presume," she drawls, watching the pacing figure.

"You-you-the old man sent you for me, didn't he? He must have gotten my distress signal," Hiran replies, moving to the doorway of his cell. "I guess the old fool's still good for something. You're the Sith he's told me so much about, aren't you?"

His calling his father 'the old fool' makes her blood boil with rage and jealousy, because the Force tells her that it isn't an act. She would give most anything to have Ma'Vena back, how DARE Hiran just throw a relationship with a father who loves him away! "The 'old fool' is the reason I bothered working my way down here," she replies coldly.

Hiran sneers. "Non-Sith are just pawns in our game, nothing more. Now get me out of here!" he demands.

Ibani's hold on her temper is wearing very thin indeed. "Watch your tongue! You have no authority to demand anything of me, boy," she says with an audible sneer. "And you haven't got the raw power either, or you wouldn't have been stuck here waiting for them to hand you over to the the SIS to be cracked like an egg for anything useful you might contain."

Hiran glares at her, but he's thankfully silent for the moment.

"But I could be convinced to let you out of there," she replies, smile hidden behind her helm. She hadn't intended to do this when she started on her way down the crater, but she wants Hiran to suffer a little for his attitude toward her and his father. The fact that it will reinforce her cover as a typical Sith is merely icing on the cake. "What were you sent here for, Hiran?"

"What makes you think I was sent here for anything?" he asks, defiant.

Ibani rolls her eyes inside the privacy of her helm. Did he honestly think anyone would buy that? "Do I look like I was born yesterday, Hiran? An apprentice serves their Master's bidding, and you certainly aren't here to see your father in your free time."

"I was sent for a holocron," he offers at last. "I still have it on me, these Republic fools didn't take it from me."

"That might be worth your life," Ibani replies. "You're going to tell me what that holocron contains, and I will know if you lie to me, Hiran," she says with false sweetness.

"A map, a map to a powerful weapon of the Dark side that's hidden here on Balmorra, hidden safely far away from these damn Republic soldiers and their Resistance lapdogs. It will be mine, when I find it."

"You honestly think your Master would let you keep anything of real power?" she asks with a snort. "But your ignorance is no concern of mine. Tell me where this artifact is and I'll help you escape."

Hiran begins to protest, but she cuts him off. "Would you rather rot in here? In any case, I have business that I must attend to before I could go looking for that artifact of yours. You might still claim it, if you're quick enough. Do we have a deal?"

Hiran glares at her for a moment before nearly spitting a "Yes."

"Capital!" Ibani says cheerfully. "The sooner you talk, the sooner you can get on your way."

*********************************************************************************************************

Hiran flees the base as if his tail were on fire once she opens his cell. It's a good thing the guards are rather dead at the moment or he might be getting himself into considerable trouble going through the place at that speed. Ibani takes a more leisurely path back up to the crater rim, looting for supplies and information. She and Khem don't find anything particularly exciting, but one never knows what might come in handy later.

Time to head back to Sobrik and see what's going on.

Thankfully, Major Bessiker is back to his usual cheerful self and Hiran is nowhere in evidence when she reaches Sobrik at dusk. "Hey, if it isn't the hero of the hour! I just heard from my son - I knew you wouldn't fail me."

His cheer fades a little. "I was hoping he'd come back to base so we could catch up, but he said he was too busy. Do you think he's okay?"

Ibani's stomach twists, wondering if Hiran's absence is a good thing or a bad one and how much of it is her fault. "An apprentice's time is not their own, Major," she replies. "It's possible that his Master has ordered him on business elsewhere." It....could be true, and she's too much of a coward to tell him what his son is really like.

"Ah, duty," the Major says with a sigh, but he looks relieved at her explanation. "You're probably right. But you're not interested in any of this family stuff, I bet." He adds, cheer returning. "I have good news! Iannos Tyrek is nearly finished with adjusting that serum for you and your, er, bodyguard," he explains, glancing at Khem Val. "He told me that it would be ready some time tomorrow."

"That is very good news, Major," Ibani replies. "Very good news indeed."

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani is getting very, very tired of hearing the shrieks of angry Colicoids, of having their ichor splattered all over her armor. She nudges what appears to be a stinger the size of her head with one armored boot. This one had been much bigger than the others and its shrieks had drawn Colicoids out of what appeared to be all the walls and the floor. "I'd guess that was the Queen of this colony," she remarks to Khem, who makes a grunt of what might be agreement.

Not impressed with this fight, apparently. It figures. Ibani sighs, and stretches to relieve an ache in her back. "One room left to check before we can call this trip a bust."

Last room's the charm, apparently, as this room holds a working terminal with research data on it.

.....Progress on the experiments is not going without a hitch, but we seem to have overcome the initial obstacles we faced when we began. Recently, Team Five reported that the subjects responded positively to the waste from the hazardous vault. Our only remaining concern is that the casualty rate seems to have gone up in this round of testing. So far, we've lost two of our best scientists and three research assistants. At this rate, we almost can't afford to be successful. At any rate, I have recorded the formula for the chemical compound that has thus far produced the best results. I have also diagrammed its structure and how I believe it interacts with the Colicoid cell structure and the toxic waste. Hopefully, we will be able to figure out the cause of the rise in the subjects ferocity and eliminate casualties from here forward.

Ibani copies the data files attached to that entry, the last one on the system. The scientific portions of the documentation might as well be gibberish, and the mention of increased aggression causes a pang of concern, but she doesn't have any better leads at this point. Maybe someone back at Sobrik can make sense of all of this.

She returns to find Major Bessiker being lambasted through the holocom by a man whose rank insignia proclaim him a Colonel. "Major, if we don't get those supply vehicles...!" he shouts.

"My men are working on it, sir," Bessiker replies calmly, "but until that shipment of plasteel I requested three months ago comes in --"

"I don't care!" the Colonel interrupts. Tear it off the walls if you have to!" Then he ends the holocall abruptly to cap off his display of rudeness. Really, there's no call for that sort of behavior!

Major Bessiker notices her, then. "Don't worry about the colonel. He's loud and impatient, but we all are these days, what with the supply shortage." Ibani would not give the Colonel nearly that much credit, personally. Possibly the Major is a much better person that she is. "Did you manage to find anything out at the lab? Captain Ilun and I have been doing our own research, but we haven't discovered much."

"I did, in fact," Ibani replies, her pleased smile hidden by her helm. She hands the datapad to the Major, who dutifully takes it. He opens the file, reads through it once, twice, turns the datapad ninety degrees as if in the faint hope that this will somehow aid his comprehension. He then looks imploringly at Captain Ilun.

"Have a look at this, Captain. I can't make head or tail of it."

Captain Ilun reads through the documentation, brow furrowed. "Hmmm. Well, this confirms our suspicions that the Colicoids were being mutated to clean up the waste. And I think the chemical mutagen they were using could work, in theory." Interesting, very interesting. Looks like there's more to the Captain than meets the eye if he could make sense of THAT.

Major Bessiker's response to that explanation is one of cheerful relief. "Well that's it! That's our solution, right? We just replicate this chemical mutagen!"

Captain Ilun coughs meaningfully. "Um, sir, there's a problem with that plan. We don't have anyone capable of even starting to replicate something like that, not anymore."

Ibani represses the urge to sigh at this ill news. "Someone was killed recently?" she asks.

"Not killed, my Lord," Ilun replies, appearing decidedly uncomfortable with this topic. "Our chief scientist, Iannos Tyrek, defected to the Republic a few months back."

"Defectors' bodies usually turn up a few weeks later in a ditch somewhere, but Iannos Tyrek appears to have avoided that fate thus far. Somehow." Major Bessiker adds.

That makes perfect sense to Ibani. Balmorran Resistance fighters that didn't trust turncoats, Balmorran citizens afraid of being accused of hiding criminals, Imperial soldiers out for blood, Imperial Intelligence, the deck would be very stacked indeed. "He's valuable enough that certain parties might be keeping a very close eye on him," Ibani replies, thinking. "Could he still be on Balmorra?"

"Most likely," Major Bessiker replies. "Travel on and off this planet has been very restricted since before Tyrek's defection. We should be able to find out what hole he's been hiding in, but it will take time."

"I see," Ibani replies. More karking delays. Perhaps she can help the army around Sobrik while she's waiting for this scientist to be found, make the best of the delay.

"We will, of course, find that information as quickly as possible, Sith," Bessiker adds.

"I'm sure you will," Ibani replies with a wave of one hand. "But I would imagine there are....problems that I could deal with, yes?"

Bessiker and Ilun share a glance, then Bessiker nods. "Indeed, Sith. I will get to work digging up the information we need while Captain Ilun details some outstanding...issues that could benefit from your attention."

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

"I know now who you remind me of, little Sith." Ibani glances up at him from where she's inspecting a panel. It's not like him to start a conversation.

"Oh? Who do I remind you of, then?" She's not going to turn down the chance to learn more about her prisoner and bodyguard when the opportunity presents itself so readily.

"Ortan Cela, my master's apprentice. Like him, your ambition outstrips your ability and you do not hesitate to take what you don't deserve," he explains with a sneer.

Ibani wasn't expecting a compliment, but that answer takes her aback. Where in the galaxy is he getting THAT impression of her from? "And what is it that I have taken and don't deserve?" she asks, careful to keep her surprise out of her voice.

Khem Val growls. "Me, little Sith. I was the greatest shadow assassin on Urkupp when Tulak Hord challenged me to honorable combat and claimed his victory. I followed him out of honor, out of devotion. I was his ally, not his slave!"

That accusation stings, makes her bristle internally. There is truth in it, but what else was she supposed to do?! "What should I have done, then?" she replies, her lips a thin line. "Let you kill and eat me?" She shakes her head. "My survival demanded this bond between us, but I have treated you as well as I may."

"You have nevertheless made me a slave," he continues, his gaze holding hers. "Like you, Ortan Cela bound a Dashade by force. Veshikk Urk was my greatest rival in the order of the shadow assassins, but Cela stole his dignity and reduced him to a slavering monster."

The likeness is a shallow one, surely? But the idea gnaws at her....

"I don't know what happened to Veshikk after I went into stasis, but I promise you, I will not be enslaved forever." And with that ominous statement hanging in the air, the Dashade stalks off toward the crew quarters.

(OOC: Warning for adult content. Takes place after this.)

Ibani's room is much the same as it always is, save for the trail of armor and clothing on the floor and the furniture leading in a more or less straight line to the bed. Ibani is curled up under the blankets with Garyn, skin to skin, in a state of very satisfied exhaustion.

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani glances at Garyn and smiles softly at him before she puts on the helm of her armor. With the helm on, her body language speaks of power, iron confidence, and a touch of arrogance. In other words, a typical Sith. She moves to the Door and makes sure to hold it open long enough for Garyn to come through.

The sight on the other side of the door is Kaas City, the capital of the Empire. Massive towers of durasteel, permacrete and transparasteel tower into the sky and stretch down far enough below the platform they are on that mist obscures the ground from view. It is unspeakably early in the morning, not yet dawn, but there are still air taxis flying through the air between the towers taking early morning travelers all across the enormous sprawl of the city. Above it all, the sky crackles with storm clouds and lightning without the promise of rain.

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani ends the holocall with the press of a button and glances once more at the archeological plans before stowing the device away. She looks up, into the sky shrouded in rain and lightning. Even unfinished, the statue towers far over Khem and Ibani, the bodies of rebelling slaves scattered around its base like sacrificial offerings. A sudden downpour had caught Ibani off-guard and she hadn't corrected the Force Cloak fast enough. The slaves had seen their outline in the rain and opened fire in a panic, desperate. They'd had no chance at all, but a death in battle might have been a mercy. Ibani has heard things about Lord Drow. Things to give even someone trained as a Sith nightmares. He's here on Dromund Kaas now, and rumor has it that his victims in the last quashed revolt took weeks to die.

Lord Zash looks up as she enters her office, Khem a few steps behind her. "I have good news, Apprentice. The next puzzle piece is ready to be placed. I'm sure you've heard that there's a slave revolt going on out in the jungle?"

"Yes, Lord Zash," Ibani replies. "They were building a colossus, as I recall."

Lord Zash nods. "Indeed they were. But the area is in utter chaos now and will be for a few more days at least. Which is useful for our purposes, as I believe Skotia is hiding something of great importance near this statue. A hidden base, to be precise."

Ibani and Khem move into the base, invisible and silent as death itself. The plans only suggest where the relic might be, and she's certain there will be security measures in place that will need to be circumvented. The data spike won't scramble communications to the outside world long, but Ibani doesn't need it to last more than an hour or two.

The guards patrol in ones and twos while Ibani and Khem watch them, study the patterns of their movement. In ones and twos they go down, most without ever knowing that anything is wrong until a blade goes through their heart and they topple over, eyes staring at nothing as the life leaves their body.

"Do you want me to destroy this base?" Ibani asks.

Zash chuckles. "Admirable enthusiasm, apprentice, but no. That degree of destruction won't be necessary. I need you to retrieve a tablet, the item that Skotia uses to maintain his control over his bodyguards. It's a relic of a cult those lizards belong to, and they think it a gift from their deity, the Scorekeeper. They serve him because they believe they are bound to obey whoever holds it."

"Killing him would be easier without having to tangle with those bodyguards as well," Ibani says, thinking. "Do we know what security measures this tablet has?"

Zash shakes her head, pacing. "I do not know the precise measures, but his apprentices guard the site. I'm certain that they will have the keys to the artifact." She stops her pacing, looking straight at her apprentice. "There must be no survivors to report anything to Skotia."

Skotia's apprentices are separated as well, which is their downfall. They are anxious now, perhaps they felt the death of the guards in the Force. They SHOULD stick together, but they are overconfident, splitting up to search the small base. The first dies as he stumbles upon the body of a guard, Khem's vibroblade sticking out from his chest. The only resistance he manages is clawing at the vibroblade for a few moments before the Dashade twists the blade and yanks it loose.

The second apprentice is more alert, dodging at the last possible moment so that her blade only wounds him instead of killing him. A burst of lightning sends him sprawling as his muscles contract unexpectedly and Khem removes his head from his body.

The third apprentice is wiser than the others, a little older. He had tried to call for help, but the data spike kept him from calling out and there were no allies left alive inside the base to answer his call. At present, he's found a defensible position and he's waiting for trouble to come to him.

Pity it didn't occur to him that durasteel walls are all well and good but they are NOT lightsaber proof. Ibani makes her own door into the section where he's lurking, then sends Khem to go and engage the apprentice from the 'right' entrance. The battle is bloody and the apprentice leaves a few burns in her flesh, but he's not strong enough to stand against them both. Ibani rifles through his pockets until she finds the key, the base eerily silent now that they are the only living people left in it.

"But won't he simply read the corpses or the base with psychometry and figure it out that way?" Ibani asks.

Lord Zash smiles, pleased with the question. "He could, if I had not developed certain countermeasures for such a thing. I had my reasons for giving you my old lightsaber, and its utility for this kind of work was one of them."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, my Lord."

"It is imbued with certain sorceries far beyond your current ability. It holds its master's secrets to itself, whatever they may be. There won't be any useful impressions for Skotia to find."

Ibani knows that that isn't QUITE true, but it could certainly explain why Korvas had such trouble reading the lightsaber in Milliways!

The tablet is not the only thing in the vault, although most of its contents are too large for even Khem to carry off. Ibani spies a pair of gauntlets and bracers that could pass for steel provided one wasn't looking too closely and thinks of Garyn. She did promise to bring back something interesting, and she thinks that he'll like seeing these. He might even like them enough to keep them.

Ibani glances at Khem as she safely stows the armor away. He seems...happier, although it's hard to tell with him. Perhaps because he's 'fed' on the deaths of three force-users in a short span of time even if she does forbid him from eating their flesh.

Khem catches sight of her glance and speaks. "I feel my strength begin to return, little Sith. You should not have brought me here. My will is bound, but such bonds can be broken and make no mistake: I will devour you."

Ibani can feel the bond between them, a strange thing she doesn't quite understand. But it feels the same as it did yesterday and every day since she defeated the Dashade on Korriban. "But not today," she says, meeting Khem's eyes, unafraid.

"Not today," he agrees.

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani has been on Dromund Kaas for only two days when a man approaches her while she's sitting in a quiet, out of the way alcove.

He smiles pleasantly. "Already, you move through the Citadel as if it is yours. No wonder Inquisitor Urinth recommended you to Us as an infiltrator." Ibani curses Inquisitor Urinth silently in the depths of her mind as she notices a curious lack of ambient noise. Someone wants this meeting to go unheard.

"You flatter me," she replies, keeping her body language relaxed. Khem is close by, far better at hiding than anyone would likely believe. "Might I inquire as to who Inquisitor Urinth recommended me to?"

"I am the apprentice and voice of Darth Charnus," he replies. Oh, that's not good. Not good at all. Darth Charnus is the right hand of Darth Decimus, Dark Lord and head of the Sphere of Military Stategy. "I speak in his name, and I would bargain for your services."

Ibani has a feeling that outright refusal would be bad for her health. "I am willing to bargain, but as an apprentice I must serve my own Master first."

The Apprentice nods. "I require an individual capable of gaining prestige in a society weaned on secrecy and madness. Individuals who can earn...respect, if not love." That sounds like the Sith Order to Ibani, but she's not foolish enough to say that aloud. "These heretics call themselves the Order of Revan. They are followers of a long dead Sith lord tainted by Jedi ways, and they have hidden themselves in every stratum of Imperial Society for years."

A Sith lord "tainted" by Jedi ways? What does that mean? Could, could they have been like her, wanting to reform the Sith Order? Ibani ruthlessly squashes the sudden, strange feeling of hope that begins to stir at that thought. She cannot afford to believe that she's not alone in this, not yet.

"And what do you wish me to do about this cult?"

The apprentice smiles sharply. "I want you to join it. Join these heretics, get them to trust you, and bring me the identity of their leader." He proffers a strange metal token, carved with geometric shapes. "There is a camp out in the jungle. Give this to whoever greets you there and they will think you an already vetted candidate for their madness."

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Dromund Kaas is a world of jungle and swamp, rich in non-sentient life. Ibani can feel it through the Force, the tangling chords and notes of plants and beasts pressing on her senses for a moment before retreating to the background. She can taste ozone on her tongue as she exits the Black Talon and enters the spaceport. Lightning arcs through the cloudy sky above, but brings no rain.

Metal walls in industrial grey define the spaceport, all sharp, stark lines that loom over the visitor. Dromund Kass is the heart of the Empire, its only city carved out of the jungle at the Emperor's command. Most of the population is Sith or military, with the few civilians serving the needs of both.

Khem's presence keeps other travelers at a distance, but she can still hear murmurs of conversation as she passes. Some powerful and terrible spirit named Lord Kallig woke in the Dark Temple a few days ago and it's not safe for even the best of the Imperial Reclamation Service to go in there now. Lord Grathan continues to defy the Council's will from his estate, holding his own beyond the Wall. A statue deep in the jungle that was being built for Darth Vowran is still unfinished because the off-world slaves have revolted. For all the droids patrolling the streets, for all the seeming order and calm, all is not well.

As she approaches customs, she feels a strong, dark, presence in the Force. A massive man, more machine than flesh, is the embodiment of that presence. On his heels are two Trandoshan bodyguards. One bodyguard looks at her disdainfully. She can only understand part of his hissing speech, but 'toy of Zash' rankles badly enough.

Their master sneers. "Quiet, bodyguard. Save your hissing for your own kind. As for you, slave, Darth Skotia is passing - best get out of his way."

Ibani bristles internally at the mortal insult, but doesn't let it show. She thinks bitterly to herself that the more things change the more they stay the same. It's her early days on Korriban all over again, and if she lets him walk all over her she'll never have a moment's peace. For all his power, he's a petty bully. Pathetic. "It's not healthy to refer to yourself in the third person," Ibani replies dryly, looking him the eye. "And I'll stay right where I am." She can feel Khem's approval at that, his eagerness to do battle with the Sith before her.

Darth Skotia's power swells with his anger, but he doesn't strike at her. "You're making a huge mistake, filth," he replies. "Give your master a message for me. My eye is on her, and I know what she is trying to do here on Dromund Kaas. I alone have the key, and neither you or your master has a future on Dromund Kaas or in the Sith Order. Tell her that, and get out of my way!" The massive Sith easily shoulders his way past her, but Ibani counts it as a victory.

"What do you think of him, Khem?" she asks the Dashade.

"It is more machine than man, I think. Bad for the digestion," he replies. Ibani grins despite herself at what may be the Dashade's dark sense of humor.

***************************************************

The Citadel looms over everything on Dromund Kaas, banners providing splashes of red on otherwise dark surroundings. That her Master's office is HERE, in a place usually reserved for members of the Dark Council, speaks to her growing influence and power.

Ibani enters the office, Khem just behind her. "Are you acquainted with a big, ugly, half-machine Dark Lord? He insisted on giving me a message for you," Ibani explains. "You'd think someone with that much technology in him would know how to make a holo call."

Lord Zash frowns, clearly displeased. "Damn Skotia!" she begins, starting to pace. "What business has he, going behind my back, speaking to my apprentice! He was undoubtedly trying to intimidate you."

Ibani nods, letting her master continue her rant in hopes of getting information that her master might not normally reveal.

"Wretched monster," Lord Zash continues. "More machine than man and dangerously powerful. Ever since I arrived on Dromund Kaas as an apprentice he's made every effort to stand in my way. Ultimately, we cannot even begin the search for Tulak Hord's ancient power with Skotia's rattling breath on our necks."

Ibani's mind latches on to that last sentence. Tulak Hord's 'ancient power' must be what Skotia claimed to have the key to, must be the work she did not want to mention on Korriban.

"He is flesh. He can be killed, Khem declares with a snort.

"He tried to have me killed on Korriban," Ibani says with a frown. "Until someone stops him from breathing, he's going to be a problem."

Lord Zash smiles and stops her pacing. "Yes- and that someone is you. You are going to kill Skotia for me."

Ibani manages not to let her shock show on her face, but it is a very near things. A newly minted apprentice killing a Darth? Impossible! But getting the holocron from the tomb of Marka Ragnos and retrieving the map from the tomb of Naga Sadow were supposed to be impossible and she did both. "The impossible is my specialty," Ibani allows.

"I cannot be tied to Skotia's murder," Lord Zash explains. "Brazen power plays make the Dark Council nervous. But nobody will believe that a mere apprentice could defeat Skotia. It's impossible, and that's why it will work. I've begun to piece together the puzzle for Darth Skotia's destruction, but some elements have yet to fall into place."

"Is there an element I should help fall into place?" Ibani asks.

Lord Zash shakes her head. "For now, I ask that you rest, get to know Kaas City and Dromund Kaas. I will summon you when it is time for the next stage of the plan."

Ibani bows, sensing the dismissal in the phrase. Time to rest, explore, and see if she can coax the door to Milliways into cooperating.

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani feels the Vaiken spacedock before she can see it, a bright burst of life amidst the cold of space. The emotions and presence of thousands presses against her mind, floods her senses. For the space of a few breaths it's almost too much to bear as the shuttle comes in to dock. She has never been around this many people before, and it takes effort to pull her senses back, to filter out the cacophony she can feel through the Force.

She gives a sharp shake of her head and glances toward Khem. She moves to exit the shuttle and Khem Val follows, clearing a wide path through his looming presence.

They wind through the station toward the shuttles headed for Dromund Kaas when they are intercepted by a Duros in Imperial uniform. "Greetings, my Lord. I was told to look for someone of your description. A Lord Zash has arranged a berth for you and your companion on the Black Talon."

"I see," Ibani says politely. She's still not used to being addressed by 'my Lord', even if it IS the appropriate title for a Sith. "Well, it would be a shame to waste my Master's forethought. If you would direct me to where the Black Talon waits?"

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani cleans up quickly, not deeming it wise to keep her new Master waiting. She climbs the stairs to the Academy's upper levels, Khem at her side. The emotions she feels and the snatches of gossip she hears tell her that rumors of what happened in Harkun's office have already begun to spread.

The door to Zash's office is open and there is no secretary or other person there to corral visitors, so Ibani enters Lord Zash's office with barely a pause in stride.

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon. Possible trigger warning for an NPC eating people.)

Overseer Harkun's face betrays him for a moment when Ibani walked into his office entirely unharmed and not even disheveled. So, he HAD made that bargain with the twins. Ibani wishes that she could be surprised at that.

His face quickly twists into a sneer. "Well, well. Look who showed up at long last. I half expected to hear you'd crossed some Dark Lord upstairs and finally got yourself killed."

Ibani smiles politely. "I didn't run into anything I couldn't handle, Overseer." Acknowledgment that she knows what he tried to pull and a barb at the ineffectiveness of his "help".

Harkun's sneer twists further with cruel humor. "Your final trial will be to retrieve an ancient map from the innermost chamber of Naga Sadow's tomb - which has never been breached in thousands of years. But before you get the map, you'll have to awaken an ancient assassin called a Dashade that sleeps in the tomb. You cannot access the map without him, understand?"

A DASHADE?! Oh, KRIFF . Strong, incredibly resistant to Force abilities and with an insatiable appetite for the flesh of Force Sensitives, there are few worse one on one matches for an Acolyte in the galaxy. Ibani only knows about the mostly lost race because she's dug through some very obscure archives, and none of THOSE were at all helpful on explaining how the ancient Sith bound the Dashade to service. To cover her distress, she snarks at Harkun. "Yes, yes, yes....you send me into a tomb to do the impossible, hoping I die, and I come back and prove you wrong. You're becoming predictable, Overseer."

That....is apparently pushing Harkun a smidge too far. A small burst of Force Lightning hits her, the agony curling down her nerves.

"And one more, thing, slave," he adds when the lightning subsides. "You'll be competing with Ffon for the map and he's already started. I suggest you run."

Bastard.

OOM: Martial Law.

Ibani stumbles through the door to Milliways, clearly not expecting the Bar. She immediately straightens, turns the stumble into a stride. This is a cantina after all, and there's no telling who might not be friendly to a Sith who looks like easy prey.

She takes a few more steps before attempting a casual looking lean against the wall. Her robes are clearly cut and torn and sharp eyes or noses might see or smell blood. Warblade wounds, unlike lightsaber wounds, bleed quite profusely.

Damn it, if she could just CONCENTRATE properly, she could close these wounds. Her head feels fuzzy and it's so hard to get a 'grip' on the Force right now...

(OOC: Tinytag! Ibani (The Sith Inquisitor) )

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Overseer Harkun's wrath was a palpable thing as he ordered her upstairs to see the weaponmaster. She had no choice but to obey, even though she KNOWS that something is very, very wrong with the order.

At this hour, there won't BE anyone upstairs for her to see. And her combat skills are hardly lacking, she's always been near the top of her class! That, all together, means this is a blatantly unsubtle setup of some kind. It would be nice to know what KIND of trap she's walking into, she muses as she makes her way to the training area upstairs...

As she enters the dark and deserted room, the nature of the setup reveals itself as two of her fellow Acolytes drop their concealment, their power suddenly visible to her senses.

Wydr and Balek, a set of fraternal twins she's long been familiar and, sort of, friendly with. She eyes the two large men warily. "This isn't a social call, is it?"

"No," Wydr replies with a shake of his head.

"Sorry it had to be this way," Balek says, shifting nervously, face anxious. Ibani has always suspected that he has a crush on her.

"Quiet, Balek," Wydr snaps. Then he looks at her, solemn. "Harkun made us a deal, see. We kill you, we go home."

Ibani sighs. "I wondered what he was up to," she says with a grimace.

Wydr speaks up again. "We don't want to. But, we know we can't beat Ffon, and we'll never be Sith. At least this way, we can go home - alive."

"I understand," Ibani says quietly. And the worst part is that she does understand. Hasn't she always chosen to live, no matter the price of that life? She draws her blade and moves into an opening stance. "You may buy your lives with my blood tonight, but I will not sell it cheaply! Come at me, if you dare!"

They do, of course. They have everything to gain and nothing to lose. They fight as one, with an eerie, well practiced coordination. It's more like fighting four opponents than two, and in an enclosed space to boot.

She comes close, very close, to dying. By the time the brothers lie dead at her feet she can barely stand, bleeding from more than a half dozen wounds. Her head spins and she can't concentrate properly to heal the wounds shut. Was there a poison or a drug on their blades? She wouldn't put that past Harkun.

She staggers to a doorway and through, hoping to find somewhere safe to try and tend her wounds before she bleeds to death....

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Now that Inquisitor Urinth's task is taken care of and she's taken a few minutes to heal her wounds, it's time to return to Harkun with the scans from Tulak Hord's tomb.

Ibani is idly wondering if Harkun will turn interesting colors when he finds out she's still alive as she approaches his office through mostly deserted halls.

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

The look on Harkun's face when she handed him the holocron would warm her heart for years to come; he'd looked as though he was about to have an apoplectic fit. He'd snarled her next task at her, ordering her to make copies of certain stelae in the Tomb of Tulak Hord.

But on her way to complete that task, Inquisitor Urinth waylaid her in one of the halls. One does not say no to the head of Intelligence on Korriban, even if you DO have other tasks.

They've caught a jedi, one Quorian Dorjis, twisted his memory with drugs and sorcery. And they intend for her to help stage his escape so he can carry the misinformation back to the Jedi.

Inquisitor Urinth thinks she can play a plausible traitor. Ibani agrees with her, although for different reasons. Being a traitor to the current order won't require any ACTING on her part. The tricky bit will be letting the jedi in on the fact that he's being played in a way that won't get her executed or worse.

Recent memories mean that the prison complex in the Academy is just about the last place in the galaxy Ibani wants to be, but she pushes those thoughts away as best she can.

******************************************************

The prison is dimly lit, the figures of prisoners slumped inside the red force-field cages that contain them. The air carries the faint scent of blood and antiseptic, but there's little in the way of sound as no one is working on any 'subjects' at the moment.

Here, among the downtrodden and the broken, Ibani can feel one man's presence loudly in the Force. She approaches him slowly, her power spreading out from her, a touch of the Light side here in the midst of the Dark.

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani leaves the safety of Milliways, guided by a feeling of 'rightness' that she can't explain.

She inhales the dry, cold air of Korriban as the door swings shut behind her. "Now or never, I suppose."

A speeder takes her far out from the Academy, into the wilder parts of the Valley. Slaves and soldiers go mad out here, twisted by the dark energies of the Tombs into near-mindless aggression. They don't last long, but for the days and weeks that they live they are a dangerous threat. Blasters and swords can kill one just as readily as a tukata's jaws or a shyrack's talons, Acolyte or no.

Ibani reaches out with the Force, looking for other minds amidst the sand and stones. She swears internally in the tongue of the Ancient Sith. From the feel of things, an entire squad went mad out there and recently too! They still feel very healthy and very aggressive, and, of course, they are camped directly in her way.

The Force is her ally for the next hour as she separates the former soldiers from one another, hits them with force lightning to hold them still, and then dispatches them with her warblade. It's a bloody, thankless task that nets her a few blaster burns and cuts from her prey.

It is, almost, a relief to make her way inside of Marka Ragnos' tomb. The red stone walls block out the wind and the sand, shrouding the tomb in an eerie silence.

The tomb itself provides surprisingly light resistance, unless one counts shyracks and tukata. Best of all, the traps appear to have all been disarmed long ago by the Imperial method of 'throwing people at them'. Ibani steps over the bones of these unfortunates as she winds her way deeper into the tomb, toward the central chamber.

At last, she comes to the pillar, a massive spire of stone surrounded by shaky scaffolding. A climb to the top reveals a pyramidal crystal cap that hints at its contents.

Many, many hours later, the crystal pyramid is still closed. Ibani has tried every trick she knows, every obscure rite of opening she's ever read of. She's tried her own blood, tukata blood, shyrack blood, all to no avail.

In a fit of rage, frustration and despair she sends a burst of lightning at the crystal. "JUST OPEN, DAMN IT!"

The crystal shudders and opens like a flower, revealing the holocron.

Ibani stares at it for a moment, almost hysterical laughter bubbling up. Somehow, she has done the impossible.

She takes the holocron from its resting place, gently cradling the price of her continued survival.

Ibani thinks she's six standard years old, but there's no way to be sure. It doesn't really matter, every day is the same; crawl through cave tunnels almost too small for her to stand up in in search of the precious Adegan crystals that grow out of black rock that swallows light. Not that there is any light in the tunnels, the Gorgodons have learned that light means easy prey in the form of unarmed slaves.

The crystals sing so prettily, calling out to her in the dark. She always finds more of them than the other slaves, which makes them jealous even though she shares when she can.

So she tells them her secret, but that just makes them angry and then they start shouting that she's a liar and....

****************************************************************************************

Ma'Vena holds her after one of the guards delivers shocks through her collar for causing 'unrest', her blue lekku twitching restlessly. "....WHY?" Ibani manages to force out through her tears. "Everyone is afraid all the time, even the guards. Why does it make them mean?!"

"My wise little one," Ma'Vena replies with a watery smile, hugging Ibani tight. "Mercy is the gift of the strong, and they are weak. They are cruel BECAUSE they are afraid. Afraid of those above them, afraid of us, afraid of one another." Ma'Vena smiles bitterly. "The weak rule through fear where the strong ought to rule by love, and we all suffer for it."

****************************************************************************************

Ibani is eleven years old when her small, cramped little world falls apart. She's coming back to the lean to in the caves that she shares with Ma'Vena when she feels the bright spark of Ma'Vena's life go out.

She arrives to the sight of one of the guards standing over Ma'Vena's body, sneering and covered in blood.

In that moment, what she wants more than anything is for him to SUFFER, and the power inside her and all around her answers. Lightning crackles from her fingertips and the guard begins to scream. Moments later, still adrift in a sea of HATE-PAIN-GRIEF, Ibani is distantly aware that she's screaming too and that the lightning has turned on her. Then, there's nothing at all.

****************************************************************************************
Ibani drifts in and out of awareness, voices echoing from somewhere up above.

"We're near the area where you said you felt that disturbance, my Lord."

"Indeed. Ah, I see. Lightning, very impressive for someone untrained, particularly slave stock. The Alacrity has a kolto tank on board?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Dump it in the tank, then. Let the medical droid keep it alive. The Council is debating sending all Force-sensitives to Korriban, and this might be worth training."

"As you wish, my Lord."