At Hero's End (Pt.2)

[Professor Mors]

Sa’ato slung his rifle over his shoulder, and was in the process of depositing his various equipment in the pouches of his bandolier and belt when Chansin came to call once more. “Soon it will be time?”, the head cultist spoke as he entered the Neti’s quarters uninvited. “Yes”, Sa’ato answered coolly, doing the utmost to hide his discontent, “Have your colleagues prepare to disembark. There’s not telling what we’ll be flying into, so you’ll have to use the cargo bay doors”. Chansin nodded and was silent for a moment, before lifting pink, irritated eyes to meet the Neti’s gaze, “Yes. And you will join us?”.

“Indeed”, the professor confirmed in a neutral tone, “If I can find a safe place to land, I’ll let the autopilot handle things while I advance with your strike group”. “And if not?”, the zealot cooed with almost absent-minded curiosity. “If we meet resistance in the sky on approach, it falls to me to keep this transport in one piece”, Sa’ato groaned in light of the circumstances, “Unless you plan to hitch-hike back to headquarters”. “Be at ease My Friend”, the cultist consoled in earnest, flashing a yellow-toothed grin Sa’ato desperately wished to unsee, “Our Lord is with us- all will be as it should''. Chansin stopped short once more, and scanned the various flora lining the Neti’s room.

“You have grown these yourself”, the fanatic continued without restoring eye contact, “So much life… aboard a vessel of destruction”. “Do not mistake my plants for some home furnishing!”, the Neti snapped, catching the man’s attention once more, “Everything that breathes here is a weapon”. Chansin tilted his head, “Truly?”. “Yes”, the professor answered coldly, “Spores, seeds, and saplings that stand at the apex of the photosynthetic food chain. With a handful of these, I can blind, poison, and paralyze”. Seemingly convinced, the cultist nodded three times in succession before moving to depart, You are an interesting individual- you will serve The Lord well”.

Sa’ato remained behind and stood still for some time. His first assignment had not gone well, and in spite of his commitment, there was so much more for him to learn. That was nothing new however. There was always another mountain to scale. But for now, he had one to tear down. “We shall see”, the Neti whispered quietly to himself, “We shall see…”.

[Aliclair Austjor]

Freedom...

Aliclair's teeth gritted as the plasma cutter would nick her wrists, but she couldn't really feel it. She'd figure the shackles ruined all the nerves in there to cause more damage. And then, she collapsed, letting out a exhausted shutter. Ali took a moment to stay on the ground... to collect whatever energy could be hidden within her scarred body. Hazed gaze looking up at Kressandra, the she-padawan noticed she didn't leave just yet. Meaning she was waiting on her. Moving her arms underneath her to take the weight of her hands and wrists, she crawled to the dead soldier, her throat grumbling out of spite then pushed to sit up and disrobe him. Aliclair lost weight, so the uniform was baggy against her skinny figure. She let out a shaky sigh as she slipped it on.

"A walkie, taser... small blaster. Baton. Basic stuff; why not a rifle?" she thought bitterly, stuffing the shirt within her pants before letting her palm press against the wall to pull her to her wobbly feet. Her dulled opalescent eyes landing on the albino haired feminine before going back down to grab the dagger. Inhaling largely, then exhaling, and wobbling abit, she dipped her head, gently musing, "May the Force be with you." in thanks before setting out. Even if she wasn't Force sensitive, kindness went a long way.

== during the 12 Hours ==

The journey from her cell to more common ground was a lot harder than she'd anticipated. Using her Life Sense, she pushed herself into a comm room that was recently used then left empty. She walked in then locked the door behind her to get to the comms. The comms were dangerous to use; the Sith would know she escaped if used directly. Her barely managed gears turning, she unsheathed the bestowed dagger and cut into the wirings of the station and took the necessary device to make outer world calls and grabbed the walkie, merging them together. Aliclair let out a small grumble then looked around the room, spotting a vent. But, her stomach beckoned. She did need food, lots of it. And she was in the position to get some. Putting the constructed walkie in her while raising an eyebrow, she walked amongst them. The soldiers and Siths. Their darkness a plague... a plague she almost succumbed to at a point while imprisoned. She found her way to where the soldiers dined and gathered herself a good amount to eat, anything was better than the dumb rations she had to endure. She forced herself not to wolf everything down; while not the tastiest, it was still better.

Once she was done, she let out a happy grumble then made her exit. Now, for rest. Bunking with soldiers was a big no-no in her eyes immediately. Vent retreat was probably her best bet until she had to move again. Walking the halls once more, she turned into a room, from the looks of it, used for storage of some kind. With all sorts of metal robot parts and even a map and looked around for a vent. Nice and high. Aliclair climbed the storage shelves and opened the vent to climb in. It was nice and cool, and with her overly large man clothes, it created a nice blanket. She fixed the vent grate to where it originally was then sat in the vent. A moment of silence, with nothing but the humming ship. Releasing a shaky sigh, she tinkered with the altered walkie in hand, into a radio. But to mask the outbound call... she wasn't sure if there was a way. Maybe for a short period of time. Maybe if she had some sort of, masking technology but not even those last too long. She worked with the wires and constructed personal communication walkie turned radio and tapped into the Coalition's frequency.

"If anyone can hear me.. this is Aliclair Austjor calling from aboard some... ship. Destination, unknown but I was told from an insider that this ship houses some... sort of Beast of the Sith's creation. Hopefully, I can keep this link up long enough to be traced. Set to repeat." Ali ended the transmission and set the device on standby mode. Stretching out her body and limbs, she realized how ached she was. Stiff as a board. Exhaling sharply at the sound of a 'pop' in her back, she laid down carefully on her stomach, then curled up, where she finally found a moment to shut her eyes, and doze off into the plain of Oblivion, and rest her body, mind and spirit.

[Kita_Ikari]

Seconds into the art of defence with her new saber, and Silvanius had already quickly adapted to the calling of the force. Feeling her master back up behind her during this session, she knew it wasn't going to be easy remaining focused for the next 5 days as she became hungry and sleep deprived. One wrong move...and she could be killed. Either that...or she would lose Jacobi in the process. THAT was not something the Sith apprentice wanted to happen. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she deflected each shot.

As the second day came, she was tired, but not fully as she expected. It seemed her own body had built alot of stamina to withhold a second day in the cage of death. However, she felt the soreness in her arms from holding her saber the past 24 hours. It was by the third day that Silvanius was really beginning to feel the pressure upon her. Her arms were already feeling the weight of exhaustion from keeping her weapon up.

The shots coming in faster every day with no break. Her stomach growled in protest from the neglect of food. Silvanius hadn't felt that since she became Malnutritioned in the prisons of the spire, sent to wither away in the cold darkness, left to either die of starvation, illness, or from injury as she had been beaten and enslaved. Still, this task was easier then that had been. So she pushed through the exhaustion and hunger, keeping her mind focused solely on the incoming blasts. One had managed to graze her forarm, barely missing it as she caught her footing from a misstep. It brushed past her and Tormentous thankfully, barely missing both of them. She gave a slight sigh of relief, the adrenaline kicking in as she realized what a close call that was for the both of them.

As the 4th day hit, she finally managed to block out the pain in her stomach from her mind completely. The apprentices senses heightened immensely as she fought to survive the intense training session. Although...she had wished she could just crumble to the floor and sleep for next few days. But Silvanius knew that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon. "You can handle on more day!!" She thought. The both of them still had another day to go...or so she thought.

Biting her bottom lip in concentration, she prepared for another incoming shot, only then to see the droids beginning to drop their weapons. "Is this some sort of joke?" Keeping her saber firmly in hand, she stood ready for them to begin shooting again, but her senses were telling her their was nothing coming her way. Yet.

Silvanius didn't trust it. If she knew anything from her training, she knew allowing herself to put her guard down was not a option. Her demeanor changed however as she found herself spun around. Blue eyes wide as her weapon remained held, Tormentous hands keeping her lightspear in place, bringing his dark blade against her own. She held on tightly, frowning up at him seriously, stubborn and unwilling to let go of her saber in fear he might have decided to run her through with her own blade. But no. Instead he nodded in approval of her training session before releasing the hilt of her weapon.

“Tonight once you have eaten and are refreshed, join me in my quarters and we’ll further discuss our upcoming plans.”

Silvanius hadn't found this to unusual. Tormentous had shared things with her before on plans. And half the time they usually were commands and tasks for her to carry out within the Sith. Or future trips for more training sessions. "Yes Master. I'll see you then."

~~~~~~

After have eaten, showered, and taken a couple hours of sleep to at least recharge herself, the Sith apprentice had roamed the halls of the ship. Officers and crewmen alike bowed respectfully and partially in fear as she passed them. However none of that really mattered to her whether they bowed or not. What Silvanius did care about was carrying out and discussing what her master had planned. And what the Dark Lord Tormentous wanted her to carry out.

Not caring to knock as she knew he most likely could sense her approaching his quarters anyway, she silently entered. Seeing as they were alone, and no others were around to witness her casual display of greeting with her master, she approached him confidently. "So what plans are we needing to discuss master?"

[Silas Karn]

The hour seemed to fade swiftly as the seasoned warrior put his body through its paces. Finishing the routine with a fifteen minute run, maintaining a sprint for as long as possible, Silas had properly tempered his stamina for the coming conflict. Satisfied with the exertion the priest took to the showers, cleaned his armor, and saw to fine tuning his equipment. As if by instinct the crew and soldiers of the mighty vessel began to shift gears moving with far greater purpose.

By the time the Sovereign had once more donned his armaments and stepped outside of his quarters the intensity could be easily detected. ‘It’s time, we must be slated to arrive soon.’ Silas noted as he made for the docking bay. As the High Priest’s turbolift he was met with an interesting shift in his former plans. Nil swiftly attended to his master, greeting him, then granting the change of status. “I have prepped an infiltrator to deploy the two suits to the landing zone. It was seen to be more advantageous to have you play escort for Lord Tormentous to not lose the benefits of your K-Wing.”

As usual the priest was expected to make swift alterations to the finer details of a mission. “I suppose this was inevitable once the plan of assault was selected. Very well, I will take to my ship now. There is a boon I can grant until we arrive.” The assassin did not question Silas, merely acknowledging his reply before continuing with its tasks. The infiltrator would need to be properly supplied and readied for immediate departure. For his part the Sovereign sealed himself inside the cockpit of the impressive fighter and then closed his eyes.

Reaching out through the Living Force, the priest swiftly encompassed the entirety of the dreadnaught with his mind. Soon brining into view of his consciousness each individual encased within. ‘A single moment was one thing, I’m curious if that mind will alter the effects of this art,’ Silas mused smugly. The premise of his mirth was then revealed as the Lord Sovereign touched upon every mind and granted the fullness of his influence upon them (Battle Meditation). It was a very rare technique within the Force. The magnitude of its benefit being chained to the mastery of the user. With no wayward insect to intervene the boon granted the whole of the Sith within the scope of Silas’s influence would be palpable. Of course there was one mind the High Priest was to take keen note of. Within this art there was no manner to guise that consciousness from him.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

Darth Tormentous looked up from his own studies as his Apprentice entered the quarters and he beckoned her to join him. He took the time to go over most of the entire operation that he had planned. The process took quite a long time but it also involved her role in it. She would be leading Sith Warriors into battle against the Galactic Alliance and possibly the Jedi Knights. She had not been involved in a battle of this scale before and it would likely be intimidating - but she would have to overcome her hesitations and stride forward with confidence for if she did not then the Warriors that followed her would take advantage of her weakness and kill her.

Once the briefing was complete Tormentous meditated and mentally prepared himself for what was to come at the target site - along with Force training with Silvanius for another hour or so there was nothing left but the several hours of transit before the Sith Fleet arrived to their destination and then the hours set before the attack would commence.

The Dark Lord stood up and moved to his armor stand, doffing it piece by piece and cleaning it from the day’s training. He also sharpened and cleaned the Jidai Maras even though the vile sword needed no tending. Finally complete he looked at the girl, “Well, since you’re still here.” He offered his hand to her.


---Inner Rim - O-11
---Pyrshak System

The following twelve hours were loaded with activity for the Sith forces aboard the Harbinger. Final preparations were completed and once the time ran down to the final minutes the entirety of the Sith force was prepared to launch on this great endeavor. The intercom announced countdowns from thirty seconds. It was soon time to be away from their ship of port and descend down into the embrace of a people that would suffer this day more than many had ever done before them.

Darth Tormentous moved into the cavernous hangar of the warship, rotating between his hands in a grip of his telekinetic power was the dagger. Black ink-like smoke drifted from it and the hilt wrapped in silver twine glistened just as menacingly. The entire hangar held their gaze upon the Lord of the Sith as he arrived into the middle point.

He bellowed out to those gathered. “Long has the time been that the Jedi have brought great hope to the galaxy. Wherever they tread - even the most impoverished may see hope in a life where they may not hunger or want. Even the most suffered of all people may see hope to heal their wounds - be them mental or physical.” Rotating his hands to hover over the top and bottom of the dagger, his top positioned hand slowly reached down and the smoke enveloped his hand - Tormentous’ arm took sharp pains in even touching this horrid blade but soon enough he grasped it and wielded the dire weapon. “Hope.” He stated with disgust. “It compels men to do things they otherwise would never have even entertained.”

Taking the blade he sheathed it to his belt, his right hand throbbing still. “Today, hope shall die.”

As one the entire Sith force saluted their liege and the Warriors of the Sith bowed in supplication. It was time. Tormentous moved into the first hauler and within the monolithic housing sat a coiled and starving beast with scales of iron and talons of fearsome nightmarish horror. The size that hardly contained its girth and measure - Tormentous approached the spawn of fate itself - Kraujas Ntima - his Battle Hydra. Twin heads viewed the Lord of the Sith and dipped crowns in reverent obedience. Tormentous mounted the beast and he nodded to Silvanius, she knew her duties from here and he knew she would carry them out.

Then - the Nightfall Destroyer fell from hyperspace in a brilliant explosion of furious light to stand dangerously close to a world of blue. High Lord Admiral Lidmor had used this world’s own natural gravity well to bring the vessels out of hyperspace as close as possible and within moments the hangar doors were spilling forth the wrath of the Sith Order.

Already the Harbinger was beginning to rotate and pull into Manaan’s orbit with her engines firing on full. The maneuver would bring the warship too close to the world’s population center of Ahto City for the Alliance to properly engage, they would have to rely on stopping the Sith on the ground here.

[Kressara Thryn]

Following up from a separate post for a dev between Slade, Raven, and Kressara that takes place in these events, which was written separately to avoid slowing down Heroes End.


Hope.

How could one possibly believe that hope was mortal?

Even with trembling hands and a mind racing from an overload of joy, fear, hate, and love all brewed into one potent stimulant, Kress had hope amongst the post murder anxiety. There was an art to tattooing a woman with a handheld welder and not getting blood all over yourself, a skill the sith's blackbird was grateful to possess. A new body lay speared by her arms to the floor of Aliclair's prison cell, a woman framed for the escape of the sith's padawan bait. Outstretched biceps pinned by Kressara's vibroblades held the false traitor still even after death like an insect pinned to cork board, badly damaged armor cut off by it's fastenings to reveal welder scorched markings over every inch of her bleeding skin. The word, "Traitor" had been scrawled over and over again with the tip of a superheated theive's tool, written in a swirling pattern from her sternum and stretching outwards even onto the flooring. The repeated accusation formed deep gouges in the metal beneath her and formed a set of wings sprouting from each arm over which blood was collecting.

It was the work of a mad woman.
The wings were an obvious calling card.

Kressara left the body in such an artistic state as a note to her superiors whenever someone finally did uncover the body. They would see Raven's corpse branded with the crime she was framed for in death, and Kressara, her unknowing predecessor, would walk away with a new contact. Aliclair would tell the Jedi of her willingness to work within the sith as their informant, which had originally been but a plan to hold ruin over the heads of her most hated colleges...but now? There was something the Jedi had that was worth protecting. Now, Kressara might just have her heart in it.

So she walked away from the scene and made her way to the hangar with the rest of the Sith, but not before using up the last of her personal stash to give her mind that extra layer of crazy protection from prying eyes. Ah, just in time to catch another riveting speech about how miserable people would be after their attack made landfall…

God, Kress really did just want to blow them all off the face of the planet.

[Silas Karn]

Nil tirelessly made the final preparations for departure. Ensuring all the necessary sub-nautical equipment alongside the two imperial battle suits were properly stowed away. Yet it was not the imposing figure of the Dark Lord to first arrive on the infiltrator. A peculiar Sith Warrior, assigned by Admiral Lidmor himself, made his way aboard unannounced. Diligently Nil pressed the new arrival to confirm his orders. “This vessel is currently meant only for Lord Tormentous and his apprentice Silvanius. Are you perhaps mistaken in your assignment?”

The middle-aged warrior did not speak in response, long ago realizing his species attempts at basic were subject to ridicule. Instead he simple handed Nil a datapad showing orders signed by Lidmor. “It seems the admiral has seen the need to aid the High Priest in his assignment and placed you with us in his task force.” With a brief pause Nil then directed the warrior. “So it is Rez Lar Vann, well Master Vann allow me to guide you in packing away your equipment as well as showing you to your seat. I must ask that you take care in your assistance of the facility removal. The Lord Sovereign has designated such as his take from this raid with the Dark Lord’s approval.”

The warrior nodded in acknowledgment and followed the assassin throughout the infiltrator depositing his specialized equipment for stowage during the short venture to Ahto. Bearing aquatic heritage his self, Rez Lar felt no comfort even in the stellar accommodations of the Sith starship. Nil, likely due to a quirk of Silas’s allowance, began to delve into the acolyte’s files only to be brought to a swift halt. A metallic cackle filled the infiltrator as Nil discovered that the clearance for the warrior’s background lay squarely amidst only three members of the Sith, Tormentous, the High Lord Admiral, and the Sovereign. “Now that begs further inquiry…”

For his part the High Priest did not yet disembark with his personal ship. As the earliest moments in any mission are often the most critical the Sovereign instead held back awaiting both the Infiltrator’s departure alongside the latest possible moment he could maintain the Battle Meditation. As Tormentous had given his speech Silas could feel the rapid pace of the Sith ungulate under his own influence. Latching onto the very heart of the unfolding maelstrom that surrounded the powerful aura’s the priest augmented their efforts and aided in refining their efficiency. The speed that would be lent to the raiding parties could not be overstated. With maximum possible fluidity the various cogs of the Sith war machine would be fine-tuned to orchestral levels. Yet it was in this flurry that the Sovereign touched once more upon Kressara’s own mind, not to overtake, but seemingly to enhance. Of course the vice of such efforts would likely lead to an expedited end of the battle meditation.

[Professor Mors]

Sa’ato cursed quietly as his sinuous fingers danced across the Mudhorn’s controls. While the Sith Fleet’s entry point was advantageous strategically, if the Neti wanted to remain in the protective sphere of their laser batteries, he would now have to set his approach vector at 30 degrees. “I suggest you hold onto something-”, the professor boomed into the patrol craft’s intercom, “This won’t be a soft landing!”. And indeed, the sudden, involuntary blare of warning sirens jarred the academic’s stand-in for a skull as he pitched the nose of his vessel toward Manaan’s troposphere.

G-forces quickly jostled the spaceborne teacher about in his seat as a corona of heat blossomed across the cockpit canopy and extended out over the hull. At the rate the Pursuer was slicing through the upper atmosphere, Sa’ato would be forced into a nosedive down toward the churning tides. On the upside, the added pull of gravity would make hitting the assault ship nearly impossible. On the other hand, if the Neti failed to ignite the emergency booster rockets at just the right time, the ventral hull would collide with the waves and surely rend the entire chassis asunder.

Sa’ato had the math in spades, but equations alone would not replace experience. He needed instinct, and more than that, the Force. Releasing a nervous puff of CO2, the Neti forced his anxious mind into submission and reached out with his feelings. It was not a matter of success or failure. He would kite this ship across the blackened surf, and shuttle the vanguard to their intended destination. Abandoning his view of the main guidance console, the professor fixed his gaze on the fore, and watched as the churning sea grew closer and closer. The landing was surely but one challenge of the day: the retiree could hardly afford to be defeated here.

[Slade Xandir]

He was pulled so hard from the sleep that randomly befell him, he lurched up like some possessed marionette. He felt some kind of searing burns, some awful slices, cuts, jabs as though he had been brutally killed in his sleep, but he woke up from it. Some awful nightmare, or something. The Hunter was immediately upset that sleep deprivation had taken him so violently, and he began to grow appreciative of the pain which rose him, but as his eye cut across to the scene before him, the video feed of the prisoner bay, it was paused on a particular clip. But as he played it, it lie blank. It was wiped for atleast an hour of footage- and he wasn't educated enough to try deciphering whatever code had locked the last trail of file that could even remotely be traced. Hairs stood up on end-
There was a Jedi Padawan down there- Where was...

His head began to scream at him, all the voices in chorus with some awful band that played mindless noise in the background. Just mentioning her across his mind followed forth a tirade of memory, a flood of vision and something that almost hurt to witness in the folds of his mind. He knew what was on that footage- ... Raven had released the prisoner. He ... He saw it. He watched her try to make conversation with the padawan - she freed that little girl. He saw it, all replaying in his mind with barbed wire for a reel. He couldn't believe it. 'It couldn't be... What could her motives have been with Jedi? What ... What was she doing?' His muttering roused Valkyr, who had been deactivated, reactivating at his voice. He had to let Tormentous know.

A click sounded the footage again, revealing an ashen figure held in black, hip hugging suit. Icy hair flowed from the head that stared across the figure strewn over the floor. That bloody body was .. Raven. The current feed baffled him. Immediately he pinged to her, completely uncaring of her current mindset within the murder she just nastily crafted.

Regardless of her station, Kressara had just killed the Phantom of the Sith Council, who apparently was a traitor. "Mnami...What have you done..." he growled moreso at himself for the ignorance of the situation. Raven must have knocked him out, enabling her to do her deed and wipe the feed. Krow must have caught the woman in the act, or atleast after it, and slaughtered the former Phantom. His brow furrowed as he tried to piece together this sudden mystery. If he had been out for about an hour, were they still on course? It was only an hour; surely they were. "What are you going to do with the body? he sent the murderess on their private link. Was she going to leave it there for the world to see? As he knew it, there were no other birds of carrion on the capital ship other than herself. And what was she going to do about the info? The padawan? What did she hear? What happened? He had so many questions, but he only sent the former message, not wanting to spam her. She had half of the situation under control, atleast. Now they had to find a loose padawan aboard that ship. This whole mission would be thricefold harder without her.

[Kita_Ikari]

Sitting across from him, Silvanius raised a brow in interest as he brought up her role in the attack. To lead a army? She had helped support her master and Jacobi in many things so far since meeting the duo. But the sith apprentice had never really lead an army before. She wasn't so sure she could do it. But she noticed Lord Tormentous, the late War-Bringer, and Jacobi himself saw more in her then she ever did in herself. She wasn't afraid of leading a army, but she was nervous of being in charge of something so important. One wrong move, and there was a chance her masters plan could fail. "Since when did u ever care that much of failing Tormentous? Its Jacobi you need to not fail!" Silvanius sighed quietly to herself. Much to her dismay, her mind had been slowly altering from the side affects of the darkside just like Jacobi had been warning her. She reminded herself she needed to stay on top for as long as possible until she helped the mandolorian. It was something she promised herself she would accomplish. Question was, would she be able to accomplish it in time?

As time passed, she watched her master clean his armor and let her mind wander...only then to be brought back to reality as she saw his hand come into view. Looking up, her blue gaze met his yellow eye, curiosity striking the young sith apprentice. The only one she had known to extend his hand out to her like this was Jacobi. But of course she couldn't be sure. Tormentous had extended his hand out to her once...and that was only when he was offering her a chance to train by his side as his apprentice. He wasn't one to show affection. Never had been from what she could tell. Still...was she going to deny her Master's...no...Jacobi’s company? What if her Master had been falling for her also? "THAT would be awkward..." Still, she took his hand without much of a second thought...

~~~~~
Silvanius had been prepared for the battle, her blue gaze looking ahead as she followed her master to the ships hangar. As he gave his speech to the sith warriors, Silvanius thought on what he said. She kept a straight face, yet her mind was elsewhere as he talked about the jedi. "Hope...seems to be the one thing I'm holding onto...despite all this." she told herself as she gripped the hilt of her saber.

"Today, Hope shall die."

As the sith warriors departed, Silvanius watched as Lord Tormentous approached and hopped onto the massive hydra. Her blue gaze still in awe over the massive dragon. "Even my nexu won't get this big." she thought as she gave a small smile and nodded back to her master giving him a farewell before she left him for the time being. Exhaling, Silvanius turned and had already begun spouting orders to the sith soldiers and warriors alike. She would be leading the lot onto the planet following suit with Lord Tormentous. This was something she had never done before, and yet was kinda exciting to the young apprentice. "Double check your vessels and your supplies before you leave. You already know the plan. I don't need to explain it to you! I'm not your mother!" Her master always had the sith prepared. All she needed to do was guide them downwards and begin her orders given.

Grasping her own dagger on her hip by the hilt, she thought of the War-Bringer Warvanus and smiled. Traitor or not, she looked highly up to the sith warrior, but this was left unspoken in fearif she even brought up his name. He had taught her alot in the months they trained together, and not once did she hate him for going against her master for the throne. It was the sith way after all. "Let's do this then." She muttered to herself lowly.

Seeing the ship the priest had brought for her and Tormentous, Silvanius quickly boarded. Heading to the cockpit, she noticed Nil the droid sitting in the pilots seat. A relief to the sith apprentice, she sat and buckled herself in awaiting for take off towards the planets surface. "As long as I ain't flying this thing." she thought. No sooner would Silvanius be hitting the ground running, she wouldn't be so nervous leading the sith warriors into battle.