SithLore

---GORDIAN REACH
---DEADSPACE - NEAR DROMUND KAAS


Betrayal.

It was the molten fire within the furnace that kept the beating heart of the Sith Order alive and well. The core principle of betrayal was what kept the Sith Lords so sharp and slightly if not full blown paranoid of their own shadows. It was betrayal that stirred this night. In the deep of space between the stars and off the beaten trail of the hyperlanes was a lone Firespray-31 Assault Craft, a heavily modified starship that had been the personal property of a Mandalorian Chieftain long ago. In service for decades, this ship had now the look of a worn ship of weather beaten curves and it was scored by blaster fire. This ship was known as the ‘Jai-Galaar’ - in the Mandalorian tongue it translated roughly out to Screaming Hawk. To others it was known as the coming of a mercenary as cold as the void.

Those days were long gone now and the Firespray had fallen into disuse. But today, the engines were still warm as she drifted towards a distant star in the backdrop of billions more just like it. Within the bay of this ship was a trio - Mercy Vyler, Kita Ikari - and Jacobi Wylcott himself. In this moment they were long in the wait of the opportune moment - for now they had little if nothing to do. So Jacobi had closed himself away into the cockpit of the Firespray where he shuffled through his ever growing scheme for the umpteenth time.

In the time permitted to brood on these things, Jacobi grew tired and a far more sinister being arose. Tormentous thumbed keys into the computer, bringing up dossiers granted from the Sith Sphere of Intelligence. Ever the plotter, the Dark One was certain he still was in dire need of followers - Warvanus the loyal warrior, he was truly loyal and deeply invested in Tormentous. Mercy and Kita though were unknowns in this plot. They had more or less been enslaved by Tormentous and forced to work for him. Far as he knew they served him out of fear and at a moment’s opportunity they’d betray him and run. He needed more. Always more.

For hours he poured over the dossiers of Sith Acolytes, Initiates and young Warriors, the more easily swayed by promises of power which he could mould into titans of his own design. Eventually he’d given up and even deleted most of the files, caring little for the weak candidates allotted. It would ever be unsure why - some perhaps would point to destiny - but whatever the case, Tormentous opened the files of incarcerated Sith that dwelt within Spire Prison, the dreaded holding facility of Dromund Kaas that once housed a Jedi Grandmaster and was the location where Tormentous murdered Derric Starr.

Again he searched in and out of the Prison until one such candidate caught his baleful eye. Bringing the young woman up on his viewscreen he could certainly appreciate the looks. But a pretty face and body did not promise any potential. He flipped away from Kressara, she’d been caught on some pathetic charge of - he paused and flipped back to the platinum haired beauty - Blood had stuck her here. His eye scanned the data and he smiled a vile grin beneath his mask. She had history here and such history made for delicious revenge.

Deciding on his course, he opened an encrypted channel to his most loyal of followers. “Lord Warvanus, I’ve a mission for you. It may be nothing at all but I’ve a feeling this one will be worth your time. Go to Dromund Kaas and find an inmate within Spire Prison by the name of Kressara Thryn,” he sent the datapackage over to that Warvanus could see the girl as well as her rap sheet. “Waste no time War-Bringer, go to Spire Prison, seek her out and grant her a test. Kill her. If she is capable of warding off your initial assault - then she shall be worthy enough to breath another day.”

He waited for an acknowledgement and then shut the communication stream off.

Now, it was time to awaken the fire of Thryn and truly prepare her for one so dire and savage as Warvanus. Not any prospect could survive his wrath, Kressara would need to be prepared to a great extent and that was exactly what Tormentous intended, once more he grinned at the betrayal he was to weave. It was in these moments of challenge that the weak were weeded from the strong.

Moving from the chair to sit on the deck, Tormentous sank into the ethereal realm of the Force - no - he drowned himself into the waves of the Dark Side of the Force. Since his breaking point within the Wall of Light, it had been a long road to recovery and even now he was a shadow of his onetime self, though now so long as he brought forth his full concentration he could once again tap into the infinite energies and he did so here just as before and the Dark Side came to him willingly. It took him a significant amount of time to immerse himself within the Dark Side and once he was complete there came a disturbance in the Force, Tormentous was once again awake.

He reached outward, across the stars and his power was great during this deep meditation while his connection to the unseen was potent indeed. In his vision he brought his presence forth to the darkened world of Dromund Kaas where the Dark Side that dwelt there only seemed to increase his power as he fed from it. With this new energy at his command he sent his consciousness further into the world where Spire Prison was and his hand reached out to touch the cold stone walls of the fortress prison. It took another hour to seek the one out that he desired - deeper and deeper into this vile rabbit hole he sank until he found her - filthy and starving. At first he wanted to recoil in disgust, but he gave pause as he felt her and sensed a potential for absolute greatness. Yes - he could use this.

While the art of Telepathy over such distance was not easily done and many could not form words so much as they could submit images or visions into another person - Tormentous was such that when he so desired it to be - it was. ‘Kressara,’ his venomous words snaked into her mind like a thief in the night, silently, deadly. He spoke to her and into her heart he looked, was there any spirit left in her? Was there any fight left? He felt the fire in her belly that she was not done just yet - he had to believe in her in this moment which was difficult at first but he soon came to the understanding that time was not on her side anymore - Warvanus was coming to Spire Prison and whether Tormentous was done speaking to her mind or not the War-Bringer would slay her. He needed to work fast or else Kressara was doomed. Warvanus would not be kind in his administration of death.

‘Awaken!’

He commanded, his booming voice echoing through the Force with great import. ‘Kressara, awaken!’ Giving her moments to recover her wits he moved onwards, he had no other choice. ‘Blood has forgotten of your existence. Now the Warden takes your life in his hands. He seeks to murder you. Awaken now!’ He commanded her with forceful words, laced with lies. It didn’t matter, what did matter was invoking her anger and stoking her wrath to the fore. ‘Kressara, walk to the door - now.’ he was insistent, brokering no opposition, ‘The guard is now outside.’ Sure as Tormentous proposed the guard was just feet away from Kressara’s cell door, he was beating another prisoner for a purpose that did not matter, but as clear as day Kressara would see the gate controller, no bigger than a datacard, hanging from the belt. It was all too obvious, If Kressara could fetch the controller she could remotely open her cell to freedom.

‘Your executioner comes. Listen well, or you will surely perish here in this gloom.’ Again he gave her only moments to comply before he took off. ‘The Dark Side’s embrace is all around you, you must remember its call. Let it consume you, do it not and you’ll never have the energy you need. Now, recall the Dark Side, recall the energy field surrounding you - the threads of the Force are woven together in an unending twine - the tools are already before you - you need only reach out and extend the Force from your hand. Weave your own threads - in this you must command the Force to obey your will! Press forth and entwine the threads together, surround the gate controller, focus you will upon it and lift it from the key ring - let it not fall to the floor lest the guard hear and your one and only chance for survival will be squandered. FOCUS! Command the controller to your hand and prove your worth.’

He paused as he felt her moving, stirring to his will upon her, ‘Do these things Kressara, prove to me that you are worthy, prove to me that you are more than a slave and a prisoner, and we shall speak again. Do it not - and you only prove that you belong here to rot away in pathetic misery. The executioner will find you then and you’ve no further use to me.’

In finality, he severed the link and withdrew from Dromund Kaas - as he did this he collapsed to the deck. Pain ripped through his mind and he felt a great wave of fatigue wash over him. His world spun and he groaned with weakness. That had been the most extensive session with the Force that he’d endured since he’d been severed from the Wall of Light. Such drastic reconnection in such an unnatural manner did much harm to him and blood ran from his nose as the pressure built further and his pulse thrummed behind his eyes into a blistering migraine. He ripped and tore the mask free of his face to breathe in fresh recycled air and let the building blood from his nose rain onto the floor.

With the world swimming about him, Tormentous - still largely weakened by the Jedi Master - passed out on the deck. The fate of Kressara was now in her own hands. Opening the door was the first task, surviving afterwards was the next and even then, Warvanus was on the hunt. She would absolutely find herself among greatness - or her corpse would rot right along with the rest of the dead here at the Spire Prison of Dromund Kaas.

Warvanus’ location could not be confirmed, but he did receive the message from the man who had opened his eyes to the Force. The same man who had started him on the road he now travels, the same man who had left him to his own devices, the same man he had rescued. He was once the strongest among the Sith, but even now Warvanus regarded him as the “Sith’ari” the perfect being.

The message was from Tormentous

“Lord Warvanus, I’ve a mission for you. It may be nothing at all but I’ve a feeling this one will be worth your time. Go to Dromund Kaas and find an inmate within Spire Prison by the name of Kressara Thryn, Waste no time War-Bringer, go to Spire Prison, seek her out and grant her a test. Kill her. If she is capable of warding off your initial assault - then she shall be worthy enough to breath another day”

He glanced down to the terminal and saw the data packet, then seeing the stream still opened he acknowledged it. When the stream ended he opened the datapacket and studied its’ contents.

Kressara Thryn, the name was familiar to Warvanus , as he read the rap sheet it clicked into place. She was the one who traveled with Darth Blood’s son his lip curled into a snarl as he remembered that ungrateful whelp. He remembered her, vaguely he had still been an apprentice himself last time he had seen her. They were not close Warvanus could not even be sure if it was acquaintance. They did work together on a few missions but never side by side. He tapped the comm. channel “Prepare my ship, change the transponder ID and make sure the Warbots are aboard as is my protocol droid” when the command was acknowledged he then flipped another switch, this channel would not be traceable and it would disguise his voice. One day such measures would not be necessary.

“Your High Priest has a Need” he began this was the customary greeting, if they were compliant then they would reply accordingly any other reply would not be accepted.

The voice came back “I live to serve the Krath”

Warvanus smiled to himself and continued. “We have agents at the Spire prison on Drommond Kaas, I require them to disable all the security camera and devices , I am sending an agent for an extraction and we need to clear the way, make sure this is done”

The voice came back “Your will , be done” then the channel was closed. He rose from his chair and donned his armor, his lightsaber clipped to his belt. Within fifteen minutes Warvanus was aboard his freighter which was giving off the new ID “Star Jewel” The YT1300 lifted off and was airborne, with a course set in, the freighter made its jump to hyperspace.

During the trip Warvanus meditated, immersing himself in the Dark Side of the Force, to prepare , what kind of test would he grant her, the Dark Side would know and he had hoped this was worth his effort, for he could not afford to be seen , granted he had access to the prison, he was a Lord of the Sith but he did not wish to draw unwanted attention. There would be a time where all this subterfuge would no longer be necessary.

With that thought he was stirred from his meditation as KL-PK1 informed him they were approaching Drommond Kaas. With his approach Warvanus hoped this would be worth it, but if Tormentous thought so then who was he to challenge his word.

Being able now to roam the ship, Kita had decided to take the opportunity to explore all the rooms and become familar with the layout. Eventually she had come upon the outside of the cockpit and opened it. However, she wasn't expecting to find Jacobi passed out on the floor.

"JACOBI!?" Rushing over to him, she took a brief glance at his current state. She wasn't sure what had happened, but his nose had appeared to be bleeding. And despite the fact Kita sometimes hated this man's short temper...she couldn't just leave him here. She had promised to help him. So, help him she would.

Gently she wrapped her arms under his and started dragging Jacobi to one side of the cockpit. Kita leaned him up against a wall and hoped he would come out of it soon. She hadn't the slightest clue how to help, but she was determined to stay there until he awoke...

A river flowed overhead, glimmering in the moonlight shining from beneath the massive oak branches. Her bare feet clung to the bark in this realm turned upside down. Leaves fell upwards to the ground and birds seemed to soar by on their backs as the tug of gravity imposed it’s reign upon every physical thing save for Kressara who was pulled towards the stars and the moon of the endless void.

Kressara…

An unfamiliar voice echoed through the tilted forest. It was nothing more than a gust of wind gently turning about the trees. The golden blonde cloaked in a blackness deep like ink, twinkling lights within the fabric catching starlight with every movement paid it little mind and stared downward into the galaxy at her feet.

Awaken!

This time the wind was stronger. It rattled the twigs in warning and tossed her long hair around relaxed shoulders. Peacefully Kressara finally acknowledged him. “Why?” But it seemed to be a one way connection. The wheels in her mind began to turn, storm clouds rapidly forming as if they were a sped up recording in the sky below her, and then the voice shouted like a hurricane wind ravaging the forest. AWAKEN NOW! Waters above churned and the gale nearly ripped every leaf from the canopy before scattering them into the growing tempest. Kressara felt a tug in the force that she had not sensed in some time...danger was near. Though her soul wandered far when last her eyelids fluttered shut, she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her disattached veins.

“As you wish.” Her lips parted, but the words resounded all around her, taking on a life all their own. Her glittering cloak wavered around her form and within it’s oddly boundless depths the darkness shifted. Black birds by the hundreds burst forth from the fabric and dove headlong into the electrical storm. Their bodies clashed with some unseen barrier, cracks in reality like glass forming over the sky itself. “Time to wake up.” Fearless, Kressara’s leg’s launched her from the gnarled perch and into the crumbling dreamscape. The ground suddenly fled dozens of miles away until the world’s curvature bent the horizon. Toes touched the ice cold glassy barrier for less than a fraction of a second before the gravity of her descent ruptured the sky itself into a trillion shining pieces. Wind, rain, thunder, electrifying power ripped her soul from the realm it leapt away from, and then...deafening silence.


Bruised eyelids pulled open, beneath them a pair of central heterochromatic irises the color of sunshine and fresh moss. They starkly contrasted the world she awoke to with it’s cold walls, filth, and rot. A pain in her sides roused her further from her slumber. The past year had not been kind to her. The healthy, manicured woman from her dreams was now an underweight captive with scars, chapped lips, and near white hair so overgrown it covered her face and draped down to the floor she sat upon. Her back was to the wall, too afraid to leave it exposed even in her sleep. Still, something terrifyingly alive stirred within the girl when Tormentous linked his mind to hers, like a beast waking from some immortal dream. Kressara’s very bones longed for eternal slumber, yet her spirit was viciously, wildly, brilliantly thriving. He wondered if there was anything left of the girl to salvage? It would seem there was more to her now than there could have possibly been before. Somehow, Kressara Thryn’s soul had grown older than her body. Was she so lost within herself? So enraptured in dreams? Lifetimes passed her by and still she craved to dream again.

‘Kressara, walk to the door - now.’ A masculine voice commanded her from the back of her mind. So someone did wake her. Who though? She didn’t recognize the force signature snaking into her thoughts as anyone she’d ever met before. The threat of unconsciousness beckoned her to close her eyes again, but his voice wouldn’t let the silence return. Surely enough a commotion outside her cell door ensued. The stranger in her mind gave a set of rushed instructions to escape the bars that held her. He warned her that death was coming in the form of a warden to end her suffering...but a smile tugged the corners of Kressara’s lips in response.

“Surely...the voices in my head would not tell me a lie...no, I’d better listen, hmm?” Coy words danced off her tongue, eyes narrowing with fleeting amusement. Something WAS coming, but it wasn’t a warden. She’d come to know his presence by now, but danger was approaching with every passing second. Any mad fool would believe Tormentous’s lie, if they hadn’t possessed a very important factor in the equation. Blood already granted her freedom from her sentence. Her lord, the apprentice of the man speaking with her now though Kressara was quite unaware, had sudden business to tend to. Though she was admonished of her crimes, she wasn’t trusted. Blood ordered the guards to hold her in a lower security part of the prison until his return. For that reason, and her intuition sharpened by the force, Kressara called his bluff with a nearly playful grin.

There wasn’t enough time to play games, as much as she wished she could attempt breaching the link and repaying the voice for his intrusion to her mind. Compliance was the only escape. Bones creaked as her stagnant body rose to a standing position. Crow, the callsign she once answered, straightened her back with a loud crack and hobbled towards the door. Outside a guard was beating the life out of a poor unfortunate inmate whose hands were lifted in a futile attempt to defend herself.

Take the gate controller…

Exhaustion slowly ebbed away as Kressara examined the bars between them.

Alt 1 App. 459/400 word count.

The gate controller was just beyond her physical reach. If only her entire arm could fit through the bars of her cell. Kressara would need to use the force just as the voice instructed, but could she? Her solitude in the prison walls of Dormand Kas seems to have strengthened her bond with the force, but to free herself with it? She had to try. Eyes focused on the little remote and despite the commotion distracting the guard, Kressara managed to bolster the force energy between herself and the struggling pair outside the door. She tried to imagine the gate controller flying off of the man’s belt and into her hand, but the stress of imminent death and thoughts of failure clouded her mind. It jiggled unnoticeably on the guard’s belt before going still regardless of her attempts. A sick feeling twisted Kressara’s stomach. How could she manage to learn this on the cuff, without anyone’s help, after spending the year locked away in prison? No, that wasn’t good enough. The force was with her all this time and she KNEW she could do this. With a steady breath the girl cleared her mind and confidently turned her palm towards the key. She failed before because she was trying to be the power which brought the key to her hand. She herself couldn’t possibly manage such a task, but the force could. Time was running out and to get that remote she would need to feel the force, reach out with the force, and seize her freedom with it. No time for doubts or a cluttered mind. Rather than trying to imagine the force obeying her, Kressara let her body feel it instead. Energy was alive all around them and as soon as the captive sith called upon her connection to it, there was an obvious response. Her will manifested as her vision zeroed in on the gate controller. Every thought and nerve in her body commanded the force to reach for the object of her desire, sensing the field of energy surrounding it. It was encompassing the key and more than capable of taking hold of the tiny remote if only she could will it to be so. Her mind went blank, and in that moment the prisoner tapped into the force itself and felt it’s power even in the slightest of motion. Kressara altered that energy with a sharp intake of air, and just like that the controller disattached from his belt loop, flying through the air right into Kressara’s waiting clutches. A jolt of excitement rushed through her veins from her fingertips to the nape of her neck. Now she knew for certain that the force still answered to her, but there was little time to celebrate.

End app.

“What the he-” His merciless assault stopped when the click of a cell unlocking from behind offered far too little warning. Kressara sneered, lifting her foot to kick the door wide open. With significant force the metal portcullis slammed into the back of the guard and knocked him off balance so violently that the baton slipped from his hand. A blur of platinum and tattered rags pounced out of the door onto the baton before rolling to her feet again. “Prisoner free in cell block- OOF!!!” Kressara rushed the guard to cut off his call for help. Her shoulder connected with a yielding abdomen and plunged him to the floor. Crow straightened and kneed the man hard in the teeth; lights out. At least he wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

A brief quiet was broken by the trembling cry of the battered prisoner. “Thank you! Thank you so much! You...I’ve seen you before. You’re that sith girl, Blood threw in here! We could escape together, you and I!”

“No. Even if we did make it outside the walls, the dragons Blood set loose on the grounds would devour us in minutes. The ships are on lockdown by now, his little distress call saw to that…” Kressara thwarted any hope the prisoner might have, seemingly for their own good.

“But...they’ll kill us both if we’re caught outside of our cells with that guard out cold!”

A sick thought, but a clever one krept into Crow’s head. Someone was coming to kill her, but what if it wasn’t her that was held prisoner in her old cell? Perhaps the threat would dispose of this replacement prisoner and report back that Kressara Thryn was dead...what an advantage that would give her. Crow looked over the beaten woman. She wouldn’t last much longer anyways…

“Get in my cell. I’ll lock the door. Say nothing, or they’ll surely kill you. I’ll stand a better chance of finding a way out of this than you will. Let me do this for you.” It hurt her heart to say that lie. It hurt BADLY. Still, her training as a sith, however short it had been allowed her to see the need for such dishonesty. Gratefully the miserable woman crawled into Kressara’s cell and shut the door behind her. A click of finality locked it tight.

“Say nothing.” Kressara whispered ever so gently.

Bare feet wandered the halls as best they could. It wasn’t easy being so physically active so soon, but there wasn’t much choice in the matter. Soon the corridors began to form familiar twists and turns as she recalled her walk with Lord Blood through the prisons. A destination in mind drove the girl to a brisk jog, and then as her dexterity slowly returned she broke into a glorious sprint. Wind whipped her lengthy tresses like a veil in her wake as with every wayward bound her spirits rose. Oh how long it’d been. In no time her goal came into view just as the sound of guards jogging down the hallway reached her ears. Kressara clicked the controller in her hand opposite the baton to open a metal door labeled, “Control Room”.

Worked well once before on a mission with Raphael, so why not again?

Technicians inside jumped at the sight of her and as the door shut the sounds of a struggle echoed into the hall. Just as the patrol reached the control room a heavy blaster proof door cascaded down across the frame. Within the room Kressara bludgeoned the operators and utilized the safe room function of the once easily penetrated door. Now the real fun begins. From here the escaped prisoner could watch every hall, door, and room of the floor she occupied. She had control of the emergency locks, and turrets in a place like this. While it wasn’t a permanent solution, she could slow down the danger that came for her and at best, exhaust some of his resources.

Now the question remains...WHO was coming for her if the voice in her head was lying?

Kressara pondered the possibilities as her dirty nail tapped against a red button. The sound of gunfire outside silenced the panicking security.

He didn’t feel the grip tugging on his arms nor crossing the short distance to the wall to be set up, but he felt the warmth of her presence and with his world still spinning he opened his eye to see concern on the face of Kita Ikari, in that moment he was surely as vulnerable as ever he could have been and he was without the ex-Dark Lord clouding his mind for the Dark One had expended his reserves of energy and for now he was banished into the recesses of Jacobi’s mind. For the first time in many a year - his mind was clear and he saw with his own eye and not the eye of a tyrant. He wasn’t plotting or scheming, he wasn’t obsessed with vengeance, he was just - there.

Albeit he was still terribly out of sorts and his mind swam with the exertion and extreme fatigue cast upon him - he looked into eyes of shining crystal blue. ‘Te ka’ra cuyir Dxun are o’r gar.’ he whispered to her, near unconsciously he lifted up a hand to swipe away golden threads that had fallen over her face. The language was of Mandoa, the tongue of his people.

With his mask off - save for the blood covering him - Jacobi was not all that harsh of appearance as he perhaps made himself out to be. The scar of his right eye ran from the natural hairline on his forehead down through the ruined eye and across the cheek - another scar split the bottom lip vertically off of center though it wasn’t very noticeable. Other than that he seemed to be almost normal. It was clearly the troubling mental state he was in that kept him from being on any sort of social terms. True enough, Jacobi, though as heavy handed and socially awkward as he used to be, drank and carried on in many a Cantina with his brother Derric Starr - in what seemed like a time so long ago.

Slowly coming back to his senses and the color back into his face, he touched under his nose as if he noticed the blood for the first time. He wasn’t shocked to see it really. Then he looked to Kita and realized where he was and what had happened. Jacobi was tired, but it wasn’t Tormentous in this moment either. Where Tormentous had been a conquering dictator and ruler of all within his reach, in every sense of the word he was a near deity to his subjects - to be sitting here with someone he considered nothing more than a minion - he would have flipped out by the candor she showed him and once he was done with her he would chastise himself for the vast display of weakness. But the cold hearted fiend wasn’t here. It was pure and simple - Wylcott. Even he had once been a lord among many in a way. A Chieftain of a Mandalorian Clan, even in his later days the Mand’alor himself, honored as the military general of all Mandalore. But Jacobi wore these things without pomp and he saw Kita for the first time as a person and not a slave now that he was without the corruptive mindset of a sadistic murdering villain that desired power over all else.

As he continued to come to, he had no recollection that he’d just sent Warvanus to go and assassinate someone. He was oblivious for the moment. Had he known he’d likely have launched off on a tirade to intercept Warvanus and stop him! Indeed, the Dark Side recognized the threat that Jacobi posed, the Mandalorian spirit was no friend or ally to Tormentous’ or its designs. “I reckon I should lay off the strong stuff.” His tone was light, if not playful, separated from the consistent malice she’d heard from him in the days so far that she was his prisoner. Also he was without the mask and so he wasn’t muffled and metallic sounding, but natural and his voice of deep gravel came through.

But for all this, he could feel the cold shadow in the back of his mind. It wouldn’t be long before Tormentous recovered - and there was nothing he could do about it. Like smoke rolling across the land, the influence of the Dark Side of the Force slowly crept back in on Jacobi’s mind to the sound of distant mocking laughter aimed towards the notion that he could ever be free from its grasp. His slight smile faded as he felt this ominous return, “Thank you,” he mentioned, “but you should go.”

Seeing the need to keep Jacobi’s full consciousness suppressed, the Dark Side of the Force and Tormentous himself moved to bring Jacobi back into the almost dreamlike state it kept him at - it was how they controlled him when he otherwise would fight tooth and nail to stop the atrocities of Tormentous. Without such control the strong willed man was more a liability than an asset.

The lone freighter had gained clearance to land on Dromond Kaas, Warvanus brought it down to a set of landing pads reserved for the Lords of the Sith and other high ranking officials within the Empire. He descended the boarding ramp and looked up at the storm filled sky as the claps of thunder and streaks of lightning raged overhead. He let the rain fall on him, as he took in the potentcy of the Dark Side. This place even after over a thousand years one could still feel the imprint that the former Sith Emperor Vitiate had left on this world. The Spire prison he surmised was not very far from the Dark Temple, that was said to contain spirits of long dead Sith Lords who had opposed Vitiate. He had sealed some of them in their tombs he remembered from his reading that one Sith in particular had tried to corrupt the Sith by introducing Jedi philosophies into his teachings, that Sith had gotten what he had deserved. He once again looked to the sky , the storm ridden planet was not natural, some say that a ritual enacted by Vitiate had caused this. It was no matter, Vitiate was destroyed but the legacy he left behind still stood strong , Drommond Kaas was proof of that.

From the roof where his ship was now berthed he could see other structures of ancient design off in the distance, as well as deteriorating statues of Vitiate. He would leave the pondering of its history to another time, he had a mission and he had to move on with it. At the entrance to inside the facility stood two guards. They recognized the War-Bringer and did not protest as he was permitted interest. Once inside he descended flights of stairs and found himself inside a hallway, Sith personnel doing their appointed tasks whether it be administrative or otherwise. He walked down the hallway his steps had a slight echo to it. He was clad in his full armor, he looked fiercesome, as if something out of a nightmare. He had also made it a point to pull his presence inward and raise his mental shielding (Force Mask and Force Shield) He knew Kressara could use the Force but to what extent he did not know. If she had stuck to study and training even in her cell she would be considerably more powerful now. Warvanus certainly was, he had learned new abilities and grew stronger in the ones he had knew back then. She would either die or she would be able to repel him, if she could repel him then he would bring her to Tormentous.

As he walked down the hall nobody gave him a second glance but one thing was clear something was going on. From what he had gathered a prisoner escaped and took over one of the control rooms. He did not need the Force to know that it was the one who was called the Crow. He remembered that she had potential, but had run with the wrong crowd, mainly the son of the Dark Lord who was to be captured alive so that Darth Blood could have the pleasure of exacting his vengeance to his ungrateful offspring, at that time she had chosen poorly , all beings make mistakes, its if one can learn and grow stronger that defines the being.

He did not know how much time had passed before he found the control room being occupied, he knew it was here, the currents of the Dark Side were swarming with an intensity. He tried the door but had no luck. He keyed in a code , it was denied, something about lockdown. He had a few tricks up his sleeve. He keyed in a code whose level would supercede the lockdown overrides in place. The Door slid open and Warvanus stepped through into the large room, the door slid immediately shut behind him. He turned his head in the direction of the one he had been sent to destroy. By his estimation she looked the same, only more haggard. Would she recognize him even through his mask and armor? She wouldn’t be able to sense him as he was using the Force Mask technique. His lightsaber remained clipped to his side. Did she know that she was in the presence of the War-Bringer? Now was the time for the Dark Side to work it’s will.

When Jacobi finally started to wake, she couldn't understand a word he was saying as he met her gaze. His tone was gentle, but tired as he moved some of her long blonde hair from her face. Needless to say, his change of attitude towards Kita just stunned her. Totally oblivious to it, a blush came upon her face. "Now why can't he be this nice all the time?" She thought.

Besides no hair, Jacobi was actually kinda good looking. But when he was kind like this, it changed his appearance to her. I reckon I should lay off the strong stuff. His smile was a sight to see. "Obviously." She stated teasingly.

The moment quickly passed them both as his smile quickly faded. Kita wished his smile stuck around a bit longer to be honest. Thank you...but you should go.

Probably for the first time EVER, Kita didn't argue. "Fine. But if you need me, just call." She replied casually. With that she left him...

A man on the monitors roamed the halls with purpose, singling him out as the one sent to ‘end her life’ like her mental visitor forewarned. Her hand lingered over the controls to shut the first of many doors in his path, but Kressara withdrew it in heavy thought. Something wasn’t right here. Blood was out of the loop, that much was clear. He wouldn’t waste his time to personally absolve her transgressions against him, inform her that her services were needed, only to delay his will and send an executioner. Nothing about that made sense, that he’d go through so much trouble for whatever end this might possibly accomplish. Blood knew what she was capable of. He already explored that territory, but now someone else was whispering in Kressara’s mind and talking of usefulness. A snide half grin creased her pale cheek. Who this new piece on the board was, she didn’t know. Blood however was obviously not controlling their actions if they acted against his will.

Only a few days since Kressara was taken back by Lord Blood and she was already sniffing out potential threats to his reign. Maybe if she proved herself then could she finally feel as if she had a right to stand amongst the sith once more. THAT lit a fire under her. Survive this harbinger, play the fool if need be, find the source of this disturbance, and regain her place at the dark lord’s side as a trusted defender. Easier thought than done. Her gaze shifted from the screens to a dead operative roughly her height. His clothing would fit a bit loosely, but might as well get out of the disgusting rags they’d kept her in. Kressara got to work stealing the sith personel’s uniform, dressing herself while laying the rags over his scantily clothed corpse. She might be stealing the clothes off of a deadman, but at least she could keep him decent.

Her long fingers tugged the wrinkles out of the uniform’s sleeve before scarred hands lifted to slip her mass of hair free from beneath it’s collar. The boots actually fit her after some adjustments to the laces. Kressara was starting to look something like herself again and her grim reaper was nearing. She had a few choices to mull over too. One, she could set the turrets outside the door to attack anything that moved and let the man know that she meant business, but that would be rather predictable. Two, she could let slip her knowledge that lord Blood would not approve of whatever was happening here, but giving him insight that she’s aware of a threat could make him change his tactics to something she wasn’t already capable of unraveling. The third option it would have to be. If traitors want a useful little jail bird then by all means, she’ll prove useful with an ardent resolve, however...as soon as she finds the root of all mischief that messenger bird will go flying straight to the lord whom she answers too.

Keypad tones beeped from the other side. Metal doors unlocked and parted to allow her hunter inside where waiting, a girl sat with her back to the war bringer. The swivel chair turned slowly and in it Kressara lounged with one leg crossed over the other, her fingers laced in front of her chest. A brief recognition sparkled in her eyes at the site of that mask. She didn’t have much else to think about all this time save for her past, and she’d known that mask appeared several times in her memories. Now who did it belong to?

“A sith is hardly a jail warden.” Perhaps that statement wouldn’t make much sense to Warvanous, but with the warning still ringing freshly in her mind of a warden coming to murder her Kressara couldn’t help but to remark. Her ever present grin faded a bit at the look of him. That saber stayed clipped to his belt, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat.

“So then, you’ve come to destroy me have you?” Clever eyes narrowed on his metal mask. “I have known that mask before, I’m sure of it. Won’t you let a dead woman see your face, if that’s all I’m going to be should you succeed?” No need to act rashly. She HAD to keep calm and use her head. Kressara lifted her hands to show that she wasn’t reaching for any weapons and rose from the chair to walk across the room and lean with her back to the controls.

“Perhaps you don’t recognize me? I’m sure that I’ve changed...my name is Kressara Thryn. I was an initiate under Lord Blood, imprisoned for misplaced loyalty. I’m a traitor’.” The word hung in the air between them like an ominous fog. “So then, how are we going to do this?” Silently the hand holding her weight on the controls flipped a switch while she ran her mouth. A timer began to count down over the speakers as a sly smirk colored her features. “ Should I flee?” Something...unhinged in her voice played beneath the surface. Was Kressara completely sane from her time in Spire Prison? Her hand lifted with the remote she stole from her cell guard, mashing a button which closed and locked tight the door to the control room once again. They were alone, no rescue, no escape. “Should I beg for mercy for my sins?” Something dangerous shadowed her smile. Was she always like this?

“Or…” The timer ran its course with a beep of finality. The lights in the room shut down, the screens died. Power was cut to the room so even the lock on the door would no longer function without emergency power kicking in. The entire floor went black.

Bootheels clashed with the ground racing towards the Sith Lord through the darkness before a nimble hand latched onto the lightsaber on his belt. Kressara charged, intent on taking his weapon from him while her foot swept behind. With a vicious laugh she attempted to sweep his leg and send the War Bringer toppling.

He took a couple of steps further into the room and as he did so he dropped his Force Mask.
He still did not speak, he felt as if he was outside looking in, like a spectator at some
Gladatorial event. Inside his mask he smiled. Then the lights went out as power was denied
In the room.

Warvanus had infared in his mask but he did not really need it as he had the Force. When she
Reached for his lightsaber he had sidestepped the attempt but when she went for the sweep she
Did not miss, the War-Bringer fell on his back. He wanted to laugh, she was still fiesty. Just
As fast as he fell he was back up on his feet with a handspring.

He stretched out with the Force and shoved her (Telekinesis) his intent was to throw her to the
Opposite wall at the far side of the room. He then began his advance, having yet to speak. He
Took a few more steps.

“I know who you are….Crow” he said, his voice mechanical in sound, then he continued. “This is what
Will happen, you will either die by my hand or you will prove your worth and potential to me and I
Will allow you to live” He said this to her very matter of factly. Of course until she proved herself
He would not indulge her of removing the mask. Then just like that he turned and began to walk towards
The sealed door , along the way he flipped the breaker and power was restored to the room. Then he hit
Button on the comm.

“Guards, I have found the escaped prisoner, Control Room 217” He then looked over his shoulder and even
Though she could not see his facial expression he gave her a smirk. He then wondered to himself how she
Would fare against the guards of the prison.

Her offensive approach didn’t end in complete failure, though the Sith Lord sprung back to his feet like a blasted weed. Crow...hearing her old name from the mouth of another brought an inconcealable smile to her face. She was quite sure now that they knew one another. Still, so many faces came to mind and the mechanical oscillator of his mask denied any chance of vocal recognition. Kressara took a defensive stance soon after he jumped back up so easily, but nothing could have prepared her for the burst of force energy which launched her backwards into the wall.

Cloth sliding down metal resounded after the thud of her collision, at last silenced as she crumbled to the ground. Yep. She knew who it was now. There was no mistaking that one’s energy. His attack was like kissing a freighter barreling out of the atmosphere to terra firma, and his force signature was bloody…

“Ah…” Crow coughed a rough sound much like the bird she was named for. “Warvanus...good to see you!” While he moved about the room, Kressara pulled herself slowly to her unsteady feet. She felt like puking. Man, that hurt. The lights came back on and her tousled appearance no doubt only fueled his amusement. “Alright then...let’s get this over with.” Once she caught her breath, Kress took the opportunity that opened up when he turned his back. Even looking behind, the second it’d take to turn around might be enough for one more crazy idea.

That crazy woman slammed her hand down onto the controls which turned all turrets on the floor to automatic fire, then grabbed the nearest chair with both hands, held it in front of her, and charged at Warvanus with the intention of shoving him out of the room into the mounted gun’s sights. Alarms sounded and people from every direction were shouting, “The turrets have been activated!” And “Get down!”. Gunfire erupted throughout the prison and Kressara planned to push them both headlong into the fray.