Echoes of Eternity

[Silas Karn]

Darkness overtook the horizon as the Lord Sovereign stood upon the pinnacle of his immense tower. Three hundred meters high the obsidian spire was crested with five spires each curved slightly inward and resembling and armored hand though distinctly caved as blades on each inward facing. Adorned in the silver robes the High Priest now held aloft a staff of pure cortosis. The platinum stave, a symbol of the immense wealth of the priest’s station, acted as a focus as the Sovereign called forth a great storm (Control Weather).

Chanting in the ancient tongue of the Sith, the Left Hand of the Dark Lord set his staff upon the cold ceiling of the immense citadel. Unnaturally the staff held their unmoving in the foul winds that its master had called. Turning to a half-meter wide, deep violet, crystal orb that had been set at the epicenter of an engraved crest bearing the mark of the Sovereign, the High Priest opened a link to the domain beyond the physical (Sith Sorcery). The visage of Darth Traya soon manifested above the orb. “I’ll not have you tarry here long. I just wanted your understanding of Vitiate and Exar Kun. Tell me, is it true that all other Lords have failed. That even these two missed the mark?” A vile grin pursed the lips of the ancient Sith. “Yes.”

A moment’s pause and the spirit added, “Curious though, that your gaze has moved beyond the moment Echani.” Lightning flooded across the darkness that surrounded the tower. The Sovereign looked back to the legend. “You would, hold such knowledge after all…witch.” With a wave of his hand the Lord Sovereign then dismissed the specter. Reaching out with his left arm without turning around to face it the High Priest recalled his staff (Telekinesis). “It is as I feared.” The Sovereign spoke to the darkness as he made his way to the northern drop of stairs back into the depths of the tower. What would take an hour’s trek by the staircase that entwined the entirety of the inner cylinder of the vast citadel instead gave to a turbolift that the Sovereign had wisely had installed as well.

The much swifter ride was terminated with the horrific cries of the vast breeding pools that resided to the north. Sith Spawn, the Terentatek, were through rituals granted by the High Priest, being meticulously bred to reach the numbers necessary to support a proper population. Nil awaited his lord as the pair took to his shuttle. The time for a grand reveal was at hand. The constant battles against superior numbers had left the High Priest on edge. One unfavorable contest could alter the sublime beauty of Moraband. Though the Sith held great might individually it seemed they presence always drew great hosts. The venture to the heart of the Dark Lord’s domain.

Grand statues of the former servants of Tormentous lined the path to his temple, his stronghold. Before this grand sight the shuttle landed. The walk through the Dark Lord’s domain brought memories of the great clash the Sith had fought amongst themselves, causing the Sovereign to spit in disgust. Reaching the massive double doors leading into the vast Citadel of the Dark Lord were guarded well by sentinels who’s only purpose in life was such defense. Yet to the Left Hand they yielded without question. Walking the long corridor that followed and beyond this a massive central chamber girded with pillars and lit only with braziers attached to walls and few pillars.

Further beyond yet another long corridor lay a turbo lift guarded with yet another set of sentinels. From there the Sovereign reached the final antechamber that housed the Throne of Skulls. Though unbidden the priest’s presence was known to the Dark Lord prior to his arrival. Upon being granted permission the High Priest stood before Tormentous adorned still in his ceremonial robes and wielding the ornate cortosis staff. Without typical formality the Sovereign almost in haste began to speak. “My Lord, Darth Tormentous, I have in my research discovered means with which to break our chains.”

It was a curious turn of phrase that held great meaning for Sith and certainly not lost on the Dark Lord. “However, as seemingly with all such maters there are a few caveats.” The Sovereign gave pause as to properly choose his words. “I am somewhat familiar with the means by which you forged the Jidai Maras. First and foremost we would require such craft to set the foundation of our ascension. Through such art the artifacts we forge will be made immutable.” Recognizing the vagueness of what he had stated thus far the High Priest began to fully detail the plans he held. “There are actually two methods to shed mortality without risking the failures of the Sith that have come before. The first, I’m afraid, could only be reached by myself.

That is to separate the soul, encase it, and then feed it the souls of others in order to maintain one’s immortality. This would require both life manipulation as well as sorcery but beyond this flesh that is wholly yours.” Seeing that this of little interest Sovereign go to the method meant for Tormentous. “For you sire, an artifact shared with the soul, bound to the soul, could allow you to reconstitute from the destruction of your flesh.” After a final pause the High Priest added, “This of course will require divulging to me the manner to which the Jidai Maras was forged. However, I must warn. So long as Jacobi remains your reconstruction would likely result in his full resurrection. You see, in order to bind the soul such that reformation of the flesh is possible one must pour a portion of themselves, their own essence, their power, into the artifact.” Much still needed discussed but the Sovereign’s arrival was as a stone tossed into an otherwise undisturbed pool of water.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

---MORABAND
---CITADEL OF THE DARK LORD OF THE SITH

---TWO WEEKS AFTER “RALLY OF THE LOST TRIBES”
---DAYS AFTER "THE THRONE OF SKULLS"


Just as bold as he’d ever been the Lord Sovereign, High Priest of the Sith Order, found his manners left long behind in his tower as he barged into the throne room of the Dark One. Tormentous was not sitting upon the Throne of Skulls, he was aside the room peering out the massive cathedral like window pane and viewing a picture painted in brilliance by the great sorcerer. Clouds billowed over his distant tower and roiled with a mass of fluctuation, no rain would touch the surface of Moraband but the elements of harsh winds would tarnish the lands and blast aside the roughest rock edges.

The Echani marched his way towards his liege and immediately fell into a swift pace of dialogue. Tormentous had to turn and lift his hand for silence, telling the excited Priest to begin again and reverse his lighting fast account. He did so and delivered his theories in earnest. Almost instantly did the Dark One completely forget the Priest’s breach in formality - of which Tormentous didn’t dwell on anyways - and he focused on the very words the Priest was saying.

Chains broken was a figure of speech and conclusion to the Sith Code. It was also the final line of the Code which Tormentous would recognize as the rest of the tenant he did not believe in - The Force shall free me - which in itself made the Sith dependant on the Force or reliant thereof and if Tormentous had ever created something it was his growing legacy which was resolved around the strength of the individual and ones own might than having to get on one’s knees and beg the Force for scraps. No, to Tormentous his view was to take from the Force and therefor the phase suggesting that the Force allowed him to do anything was anathema to his beliefs.

His attention stolen. He listened to the High Priest very carefully.

His theories were sound enough and honestly they were not unlike what he’d already done with his sword as a piece of him dwelt within it though what the Lord Sovereign suggested was by far a more inclusive method. Such a transmission of one self would diminish the individual and make him dependant on the chosen trinket in question. “In this, the basic price of immortality is not worth it, Priest. There must be yet another unspoken boon you are withholding.”

With that said Tormentous departed his window and made for his throne where upon a tiny altar sat his holocron. Fetching the device it reacted to his touch and his will. Unfolding in a beautiful display until a bright light of red shone out. While Tormentous could have easily recited from memory the processes of how he and Warvanus both had forged their swords, the holocron was just a more informative means with which to divulge this information.

Basically from the drawn up plans aside from the very intrinsic methods of forging the item there would be a specialized set of ingredients to be used through alchemical means to tie the form of metallurgy to the Dark Side of the Force.

The blood of one so loved.

The blood of one so hated.

The blood of oneself.

[Silas Karn]

A wide grin broke upon the countenance of the Sovereign. ‘Oh there is certainly a boon…’ He all but cackled internally. This mirth was swiftly shattered as Tormentous revealed the truth of the Jidai Maras. Immensely disturbed a cold sweat coursed over Silas as he struggled to elaborate. “Those requirements, I can’t fathom how you would manage now…however, there indeed is an immense boon.”

The Sovereign collected his self and continued, “Once forged the artifact intended for your use would grant a magnification in the potency of your abilities. This increase would be proportional to the measure of yourself granted to the artifact. It would likely not grant a recurring reserve of energy as my armor, but as your natural stamina exceeds my own that would not likely be a necessary factor.” Not sure if Tormentous grasped the full potential the priest took a different angle, “Not only would the artifact defy the expulsion of your soul to the Force should your flesh fail you but the potential increase in the potency of your abilities would be akin to sorcery’s yet without the need for rite or access.”

Sure he had his Lord’s interest once the magnitude of what he presented sunk in the Sovereign moved the discussion. “Know this, in sharing this, in lending aid in forging such an artifact for you, I betray any hope of an apprentice ever usurping you through battle.” Still collecting his own thoughts the priest continued, “Moreover I don’t expect you to trust me implicitly. It will be by your hand alone that such an artifact be realized and time granted such that you see the point of no return in its craft.” Hesitation took hold of the priest as he felt the weight of what was to come.

“I am willing to see this through if you are willing to join your strength to the task. What is required, there is one such individual in both what was and what is my heart. I must ask, the blood, does it require the full sacrifice of the individual or simply a portion?” Tormentous would easily sense the unease of the Sovereign as the priest continued, “Either way, for me, that would require the successful infiltration of Bastion and not just the system proper but our presence likely within the very throne room!” Yet the High Priest tarried a moment longer and began to question the Dark Lord.

“I do not know by what means you managed to satiate the stated requirements in forging the Jidai Maras. Yet certainly now, if bereft of that individual how will you now succeed? Hate is easy, our blood is a given, but yet for a Sith to know the last is a foul task to lay at our feet.” The method and manner to which the pair might carry out meeting the requirements still not fully set it was for the Sovereign to await his Lord’s decision on the matter. Denied, there was little hope in even the High Priest’s success in acquiring the individual needed for himself. Yet of equal interest for the Sovereign was exactly ‘HOW’ could the Dark Lord love anyone enough in any capacity to fulfill such a rigid aspect of the needed ritual.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

The Dark Lord looked upon the High Priest with a frown, he had made a valid point. Jacobi Wylcott had been dormant for years now and Tormentous was nigh incapable of love itself. Then coupled with the tragic story of the Mandalorian’s life - everyone he’d ever loved had long since died and left the son of Mandalore to walk this galaxy alone. He would have to think long and hard on these things before properly answering the Priest for at this time the ritual and construction of the item in question had already failed. Though for now they would press onward and see what the next issue would bring to the front.

“Ah,” he resounded as Sovereign claimed a magnification of his already immense power. “No doubt then the item I would forge would link in properties with the Jidai Maras as it also is a conduit and magnifier,” he eyed the High Priest and with arrogance he spat his next words blatantly, “should I find myself successful then indeed any hopes of an Apprentice to usurp me is null and void - it is also a very believable aspect that you would no longer find yourself in the limits to be a peer of mine in the realm of the Dark Side’s potency. Are you so certain you wish to divulge further?” It was a solid theory that Tormentous’ power would find itself well beyond anyone in the known galaxy - even that of the most hated thorn in the side of the Sith Order.

That idea alone was enough for Tormentous to seriously consider this prospect. He recalled the ritual dagger they’d created weeks prior and a plan began to formulate surrounding the utter demise of the singular hope of the galaxy. How delicious would it be to finally put that old man down. The thoughts ran rampant in his mind and it was only inevitable that he leave them unguarded that the Priest could sense his desires. Finally he turned back to Sovereign. “You are correct. I do not trust you Priest in as much to allow you to lay hammer to metal and include your own designs to control me. Your cunning has not been forgotten - however, I will lay forth my mind and efforts to this task and see it completed. I will forge my own bauble thank you, and you will forge your own - I wish not to have power over the High Priest as I consider your mandate to the Order of the utmost import and to have some other have the chance at conceding their will over that of yours - I will not have it.”

“I sense though there is even more to this theory - that of which you have not yet uncovered. I am not stricken by this for the boon is worth much in the way of risk.” He turned away and strode from the Throne of Skulls and departing the throne room proper. Twenty minutes they melted their way through the lonely and chilled corridors of the Citadel until arriving within a more private chamber with a holoprojector in the middle as well as several terminals and a desk. This room was fit for planning such an effort as the encroachment upon Bastion’s very soil.

Bringing up the imagery of Bastion they began to sift through the literal impenetrable concept of it all. This would take days to go through at the very least. “Until I can determine the elements in which I may need, we shall sow the seeds of your creation. In any case I would much rather forge your amulet first that I may find perfection in mine own.” Yes, it was selfish but being the Dark Lord had its privileges. “It will also ensure that I may measure your item in strength of will so to ensure when I create mine it shall find a superior.”

He moved on to the chosen detail of Sovereign’s inquiry. “Without the necessary individual, the ritual will fail as it would lack the bonding properties. Sorcery, as you well know, comes with a price and that price is typically high or otherwise it is profoundly buried in difficulty for the magics of the Sith are fickle and in need of such things. As for the proportions - it only takes a measure of blood not the entire sacrifice - although a whole sacrifical portion would likely be a price paid in overture and you would very likely see a significant boon in return. Though this is a hypothesis of conjecture at best. Though the measure itself is significant and may leave the victim light of head in the process. The more the better.”

[Silas Karn]

Being questioned as to the matter of peerage did grant the Sovereign pause. ‘Certainly Silas would have simply left the order in pursuit of some other way rather than risk such or shall I say that is why ‘I’ would have done. Yet, such matters no longer hold sway,’ the priest mused. “In terms of sheer prowess I believe we may already agree as much now without such a relic granting you further might. Indeed the more calculated play would be to simply outlive the span of your human life and then grasp hold of all you have built in that span.”

The Sovereign held silent a moment almost as if coming to the realization at the same time he spoke anew, “However, my ultimate goal now is the same as it was upon the moment I arrived once more to your call. The utter devastation and supplication of the rest of this galaxy. That the torment, frustration, and indignation, we have suffered at the hands of the guiding powers of this galaxy be paid back exponentially!” Sickly yellow citrine light gleamed from the eyes of the High Priest as he spoke. Though not a direct answer to the potential superannuation of Silas’s rivalry the intent was laid clear. Composing his self the priest responded to the shadow that loomed over the proposed rituals.

“Indeed, and I doubt we will fully know the depths of these artifacts until they are made fully to our disposal. The vexing truth is that since those that came before indeed failed or succeeded in brilliantly catastrophic manner, there are none that we may consult to garner a deeper understanding. I myself have only devised the blueprint by which the relics may be forged using the sum totality of my understanding in alchemy, science, sorcery, and consultation of those that once were.” The conversation died after this and the Dark Lord guided the Sovereign to a more fitting room for the next step. In this chamber a holoprojector soon displayed the enormity of the task in grand detail as any infiltration into Bastion in an unprepared fashion was akin to suicide.

After a very fitting measure of priority and posturing from Tormentous it seemed the Dark Lord had agreed to aid Sovereign in fulfilling the requirements for his ascension. Then came the moment Silas had greatly anticipated. The response to his inquiry. Contrary to his own initial conceptions of the rite it seemed that death was not wholly necessary. ‘Why does this grant me relief? That was a life has already come to an end. Strong emotions stir nonetheless. Certainly no other remains that holds such sway. Not even ‘him’.’ The Sovereign fell into silent contemplation as he processed what Tormentous had illuminated. With the understanding that any proper plan would entail at least a day to outline the pair departed company. Upon his return the High Priest entered the chamber he had reserved for the fragments of the Dark Lord’s former Thought Bomb.

It was in this room that Silas had kept in secret a portion of the dragon king’s flesh and more importantly a vile of its blood. The blood was all that remnained of the various arts used to return Slade to his flesh. Taking the vile from the case the Sovereign spoke into the darkness of the dimly lit room. “The blood of one so hated…” Of course, Tormentous’s mention of the greater impact of proportionally larger sacrifice permeated the mind of the priest. “Well, at the least this condition is met if only in part. If the effect requires greater sacrifice I may need to seek elsewhere.” Returning the vile the Sovereign departed for the depths of his tower. A great deal more was needed in preparation. Now with the aid of the Dark Lord the Sith might finally find completion, the answer deprived from them since their departure from the Jedi Order.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

The Lord Sovereign took his leave and in doing so the Sith Lord of the Red Cauldron was left to his own means in which he utilized his depthless prowess in battle strategy to figure out exactly nothing concerning the infiltration of Imperial Bastion. He would have to retire and meditate on these things while his terminals and data processors unpacked the known information on Bastion and her defenses. This was without a doubt going to be one of the most serious confrontations and most risky that had ever been handed down upon Tormentous’ plate - they needed to infiltrate, find the target, execute, exfiltrate and all without causing serious fuss for if they did then the Imperial-Sith Ceasefire would be in jeopardy. Honestly Tormentous hated the ceasefire and would like to even arbitrarily end it - but his experience now and wisdom took over on his aggressive nature and would not let him act without just cause or at least a reflective cause in which there was equal gain to that which was lost.

For now he pondered on the ingredients for his own alchemical quandary. The blood of his own was simple enough. The blood of one so hated - this would require some effort as that bastard Kenobi fit that bill without a doubt. He was a meddlesome thorn in the Sith Order’s side. How had one single man become such an obstacle for an entire Empire he would never know - but the facts were there - he was.

The blood of one so loved. This one was the challenge. Immediatley Tormentous thought of Jacobi Wylcott. Previously the blood of Krynn Karn the Nightmare’s Child had been used as Jacobi had loved her without condition. He’d died for her to be free. It went to show that the love did not need to be passionate - only love as one would care. This didn’t help Tormentous’ own situation as he cared for so very few in this life. But he needed the definitive love which meant he himself was incapable. Again he would have to beseech Wylcott and pry another love interest from the Mandalorian’s hands.

How sad Jacobi’s life must have been. How many years had the Mandalorian gone without so much as a smile to his face. Without joy in his heart. He had been imprisoned within Tormentous’ mind for a long time. And now here Tormentous was - seeking another piece of the Mandalorian. His issue now though was that Jacobi loved no one. Tormentous knew there was a budding interest in his own Apprentice - Kita Ikari - but it was not love that Wylcott fostered, it was more likely that she was the only one he’d been around in so many years that wasn’t actively trying to kill him. Perhaps there was something there - perhaps there wasn’t. But maybe she was the key. Tormentous would have to explore this and in time he would discover the truth behind it.

For the time being he drown himself in the up and coming infiltration of Bastion. When the Lord Sovereign would return he would discuss the plan and in doing so they would give themselves not only the best chance of success but also the greatest chance of survival - which was also a pretty important factor in all of this.

[Silas Karn]

‘Due to the disparity between my own artifact and that of the Dark Lord great care must be given to its resting place,’ the Sovereign mused as he gathered the administrators that had guided the labor camp in his tower’s creation. “To begin, I must know the current depths delved for both this tower and the breeding pools to the north.” The staff conferred swiftly and their chief coordinator was charged with their reply.

“At this point with the tower considered to be completed its lowest level resides fifty meters below the surface and rests upon an impressively solid foundation that delves an additional seventy meters. Beyond the tower at the deepest we have delved four hundred meters.” The High Priest raised his hand and signaled for the group to await his command as he deliberated the manner to which he wished to proceed. “Foremost, the breeding pools are not to extend any deeper though they may span as far north as necessary.”

Stepping toward the chief coordinator Silas outlined in exacting detail what he desired. “At the north face of the lowest level you will carve outward and delve sixteen-hundred meters. The path should not extend further than within a hundred meters of the southernmost border of the breeding pools. Additionally, at the terminal end of this path a chamber shall be forged. This chamber will be braced by capital ship grade durasteel ten meters in thickness at all sides. The path itself must also be girded, yet a third of such material should suffice.

The entry to this chamber will be made smooth and lack any means of entry once sealed. Access will be granted from the inside of the chamber instead. This will be duplicated with the tower access to the path itself. Finish this task and leave both the lower level entry and the chamber at the path’s end open once done.” The coordinator was stunned by the enormity of the task given but had learned not to challenge a lord’s request long ago. The purpose of the chamber defied convention with its manner of access, though perhaps it was meant as a safe for a treasury hold.

The staff departed to begin their abusive driving of the slave population on Moraband but not before handing Silas a greatly needed requisition. The Sovereign received his requested item, an ornate chest, and then left for the tower’s turbolift entered the access codes and ascended. Arriving once more at the level he had designated for the fragments of Tormentous’s thought bomb the High Priest sat the chest down on a lab table. The chest itself was comprised of many light alloys yet remained as nearly as strong as durasteel.

The purpose of the chest would not be revealed to any. In fact as the priest began to disassemble its components what was to be joined with its composition might even draw the ire of the Dark Lord his self. Unsealing the first of the fragments that adorned the many pedestals of within the vast chamber the purpose in their acquisition was finally fulfilled. In order to grant a defense to the future artifact he sought to create the Sovereign devised a proper container to shield it from the most likely to ever succeed in inflicting harm upon it, the Jedi.

Though as the serpentine priest began to transmute the casing of the chest alongside reshaping the fragments themselves it was obvious that any sentient that lacked the Sith’s greatest tool would have far greater chances of destroying themselves than ever latching hold of the artifact (Sith Alchemy). Channeling a great magnitude of the domain of the Sith’s greatest mastery to his call the Sovereign carefully held down the potentially ruinous fragment as he molded it to the casing (Sith Sorcery). ‘Blood was a fool to neither dispose of nor utilize the pinnacle of the Dark Lord’s insight into the darkside,’ Silas mused as he began to repeat his actions for the remaining sides of the chest.

Finishing with the lid to the now overly ornate stunningly ominous future vessel for his artifact the Sovereign left the chest open. All that now remained from the Dark Lord’s fall was a single fragment of the thought bomb Tormentous had formed that day. “This, alongside the vile is all I can realistically accomplish unaided. It is time to return.” The venture back to Tormentous’s throne room was uneventful though the Sovereign noted that he had burnt through almost a standard days’ worth of hours in the interim between his last visit. Once more in the imposing presence of the Dark Lord the High Priest bowed and waited to be addressed. With any hope Tormentous would have devised the necessary parameters to breach Bastion.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

“Nothing is ever so simple, Priest, is it?” Tormentous’ momentary dismay queried a moment into the silence at the High Priest of the Sith Order resumed his place within these halls. “We cannot assume Bastion’s own soil in any traditional sense. Its gates are too complex and well defended and to raid the world would nullify the standing ceasefire agreements - which,” he eyed the Sovereign, “as much as I would enjoy resuming the chaos among Imperial holdings it benefits the Sith Empire more to retain the peace until our holdings in Tion are solidified.”

“Therefore,” he began in earnest and started to bring up data on his plan. Charts filled with shipping lanes, times, contact reports, spies and unfathomable depths of information all gleaned by the Sith’s extensive network of cloak and dagger operatives - all this information scrawled before the Echani Lord for his viewing pleasure. “When we undertake this quest to waylay your kin, we do so by means clandestine. Our ruse must be fit to the task at hand. Bastion is a fortress world of the Empire and much like Coruscant before it - it relies on imports. The amount of incoming freighter traffic is astronomical. Our biggest issue will be to choose the right freighter or which we have a vast plethora to select from.”

Finally he shut the screen off and looked his ally straight on. “The issues we arrive at here will be plain. Their Grand Inquisitor is a powerful Adept and while I would find such a foe appealing, the fight would draw unwanted attention. We will both have to suppress ourselves through the Force and enact this mode of work without its use or at the most a very basic use. Anything more would be enough for the Inquisitoris to seek us out and befoul our plans - and I am not interested in having these plans scrapped for their potential is intriguing to say the least.”

“On that note, Priest, what say you about a method of Sorcery in which we may temporarily cut ourselves off from the Force’s touch or perhaps nominalize it to a great extent. This way we need not concentrate on the Force Mask ability so heavily. As well you know should something occur and the Force Mask be broken then our failure is complete. At least with Sorcery, the means of Force nullification cannot tamper with it.”

[Silas Karn]

Silas averted his gaze as he lost his self momentarily in thought. “It, it may be feasible…” Turning back to face Tormentous the priest continued, “You would need to be bereft of the Jidai Maras and I my armor for such artifacts resonate with dark side energies.” The Sovereign recognized the immense deficit such actions posed, yet he gave only a moment’s pause. “I once was a practitioner of the Wall of Light and just as yourself I am versed in producing a nullification of the Force’s offensive arts. Using Sorcery as an anchor to these efforts I believe I can seal the lion’s share of our power away…until we are reunited with our own armaments.”

A look of sudden realization coursed over the High Priest’s countenance and he had to still his self as he added, “In fact, the safest manner to accomplish this would be to bind our power to our armaments! Such that only one possessing our blood could be reinstated with our might.” Though please with his self in arriving at an answer so swiftly the Sovereign was ever cautious. “I can prepare the ritual as soon as you are ready, however, it would behoove us to then garb ourselves with the equipment that creed and blood once demanded. Requisitions should manage to be met by the time our transport arrives to ferry us hence.” After Tormentous was granted time to finalize the plans to depart Moraband the Sovereign departed his company. In the interim the High Priest gathered the necessary tools to complete the ritual then looked to what weapons, armor, and equipment he could rely on in lieu of the Force.

Returning to the halls of his tower the Sovereign entered the domain he had set aside for the two Star Maps the Sith had managed to acquire thus far. ‘Immortality, it makes one wonder what went through the minds of those that came before…those that failed.’ The priest was soon lost in his thoughts, only being brought back to his senses to confirm his orders for the needed requisitions. “There is no possibility of a proper foil in such a short span of time and with the Empire taking Eshan within its holdings. Streamlined custom light armor and a finely forged vibrosword must suffice. That and some ranged ordinance, time has ebbed swiftly as it has been cycles since last I was forced to employ them.” The time of their preparation was coming to a close. The next leg of Silas’s proposed venture was almost at hand.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

A set of days would then pass by. Tormentous permitted Sovereign all the time he required for the ritual and after attending the ceremonies the pair were made largely devoid of the Force. Should they call heavily upon it the ritual could be broken but for all intents and purposes it had nullified them.

The Dark One felt free. The stain of the Force no longer shadowing him he did not feel the constant pain and agonizing feeling of the knives of he Dark Side piercing his mind. But he also could not feel the massive amounts of power he had accumulated through the years and it enraged him significantly. Though he would not let it distract him from his goals here.

He awaited the Sovereign to arrive at the landing pad. It was discreet in the middle of the night to ensure no one would capture a good look at them despite the fact that Moraband never slept. Tormentous wore a black bodyglove, his armor was waiting for him on the ship as well as his weapons. A full arsenal of them in fact. As the Sovereign approached the Dark Lord regarded him simply, “Where did you dig that armor out from? A toy box?”