An Old Wolf's Return

[Rhoden Carbine]

Rhoden keyed a response to the vessels hails, "Dot secure channel." he said, there was a quick beep and text scrolled across his screen [Channel secure.] Rhoden nodded to himself.

"Commander Rhoden Carbine and... Neive Undant, Galactic Empire." Rhoden had paused slightly at Neive's name. He did not yet have an official place within the Empire, nor was Rhoden particularly certain if he was going by his true name or this... Prazel.. Pracus... Pretzel... name. It wasn't important right now in any case.

Rhoden was about to say more when a communication arrived. He read it and cursed. Issue 1. Doren had found out about the mission. Given current orders and security it was more than likely the vessel not attempting a dialogue had alerted him to their presence in the system. Issue 2. To have alerted Doren meant they knew who he was.

"Dot. Explain." he said. Dot, being smarter than the average droid, knew not only exactly what Rhoden meant, but that to waste time now would be most unwise. There was a quick series of beeps and Rhoden cursed again, opening a channel to Neive.

"Power down. We're sitting this out from right here if we can. Do not engage our lightsaber-happy neighbors under any circumstances." he said, his voice shaking with unbridled rage. He'd had to fly his Starwing on Imperial business before, and normally that wasn't a problem. But most of the time he flew without a transponder. Or at least an active one. In their current situation the most infuriating error by the Utopia technicians had left his transponder enabled. It wasn't even an error, his ship had simply not been properly prepped before their current mission.

"Dot. Eliminate all exterior lights and minimalize interior." he said. Depending on how much scrutiny he was receiving from the Sith vessel he would potentially be hard to detect. Mainly he would be harder to track should they try to run him out of the system. Given the fighters dark coloring he had also become fairly indistinguishable from the surrounding black of space--at least without special equipment.

"When we get back we're going to have a little chat with the good Captain." he said darkly. Dot beeped in a manner which conveyed both dismay and resignation, and Rhoden caught something about a flesh shield as the text scrolled across the screen before Dot blanked it. His eyes narrowed.

[Neive Undant]

Neive stopped a minute as the communication from both kroxata’s ship and doren’s Reached him near the same time. After reading the report quickly, he diverted power away from the weapons and opened a secured transmission between him, Rhoden’s ship and kroxata’s.
“This is Neive Undant of the galactic empire, aka Prazutis... sending a message to Kroxata Akhoi. Although I cannot engage slade or his ships, and I’m not sure where your allegiance stands, but I just want to say, first off... welcome back.” He had done what the force led him here to do... now he had to go past that. “If you decide to work under slade... it will seem as we will become enemies rather than allies...” it pained Neive to say that about his own brother... but he couldn’t stray from the truth. “However... from what I’ve seen from the sith, even tormentous made a better leader. Blood is selfish, he holds no value but to power... you’re back, you have a fresh start. Don’t let yourself become a pawn of Blood. I cannot help you in doing anything against the empire, or the current sith order... but i’ll Do my best to help my family.” Neive didn’t want to say anything more, as Rhoden was listening as well. But nothing he said had betrayed the empire or their ceasefire with the sith... it was now up to Kroxata. Join the sith to be a slave of a new ruler? Or let that ruler and everything he holds burn, so that the true values of the sith can flourish? Only krox could decide his own fate now...

[Kroxata Akhoi]

The crew aboard the bridge of the Maul were rampant to certify their decision, the engines were rearing ready to blast away to the closest Imperial core planet, various lieutenant's were bickering over what to prioritize in the sheer chaos and fear of a Sith fleet blasting them into dust. Admiral Graden stood aside Kroxata, the Sith veteran gritting his teeth in anticipation his eyes focused to the far reaches of space checking for the earliest sign of an attack...but none came. The bridge fell to silence, after making all the preparations to disappear as quickly as possible, they all awaited the orders from their superiors who too were sat in silence. Two transmissions poured through his queue simultaneously, the Dreadlord opens the first belonging to Sl- ‘Lord Blood’.

He listened intently, scratching his chin with his amber eyes set to the ground, allowing his sense of hearing to overtake, alongside the various machinery that rumbled the room all were mere distractions to Lord Blood’s words that echoed through his mind. Each word having a deeper meaning to it that the Dathomiri Hammer ensured he took apart piece by piece. Then came to his closing statement, "Leave behind the life of a pawn, of a loner. Return to your pack, Lord Kroxata. Much can be discussed if you bind to me your word, and your loyalty. Board this ship and see me, see my face, and know me for what I am.” Bold words for someone that is deemed a complete stranger to the Sith Lord, a new rising Lord’s attempt to convince the Old wolf via intimidation, although glory was promised they were merely words to him. His amber eyes darted to every officer in the room, examining their response to the message, searching for any who would immediately weaken at the first sign of a greater power.

Breaking the eerier awkward silence, Korxata plays the next message in his queue, a familiar voice played through, its origin coming from the two stray Imperial vessels that observed the Dreadnaught from a far distance. Funnily enough, the mere mention of his own name brought a smirk to his face, his fellow Nightbrother… After all this time he still roamed the galaxy with what appeared to be every bounty hunter in the galaxy after his head. This is Neive Undant of the galactic empire, aka Prazutis... sending a message to Kroxata Akhoi. Although I cannot engage slade or his ships, and I’m not sure where your allegiance stands, but I just want to say, first off... welcome back.” The words spoke even brought a light chuckle from the Sith Lord, a sight very few had seen. The crewman all looked to each in complete confusion but did not speak.

you decide to work under slade... it will seem as we will become enemies rather than allies... “However... from what I’ve seen from the sith, even tormentous made a better leader. Blood is selfish, he holds no value but to power... you’re back, you have a fresh start. Don’t let yourself become a pawn of Blood. I cannot help you in doing anything against the empire, or the current sith order... but i’ll Do my best to help my family” He spoke words of truth, but so did Lord Blood. Both brought valid points and offers for the Zabrak to choose from, but through all he has fought for, for all he has taken to heart and all he believes in, one thing still stood strong. There was only one true Dark Lord of the Sith, one that could only hold that honour and prestige to Kroxata, any other before him were the pretenders.

Kroxata opens a transmission to respond to Neive, “Neive, my brother, this is Kroxata. You speak the truth, Tormentous is the true Dark Lord, not Lord Blood. I am preparing a jump into Imperial territory but I will need you to relay a message to your superiors, Slade will not relent once he knows of my decision, he will seek my utter annihilation. I will need some form of reinforcements, big enough to hold off a Sith fleet. Do this now, I am willing to cooperate with the Empire.” Kroata ends the transmission. He waits a few minutes to give Neive some time to enact his request opening another directed to Lord Blood, Admiral Graden sets to work ensuring everything was ready for a battle, “Raise shields and direct all our power to the hyperdrive, now!”

Kroxata clears his throat, for defiance was seen as an act of betrayal and war, and he would approach this as the champion he was. “Lord Blood, your offer is generous indeed. But I’m afraid there is only one true Dark Lord of the Sith, and it is not you. I will not bow down to you, as you would not bow down to me, you took my apprentice, you took my right as Dreadlord, to glory and I will not trade my free will, my honour and dignity to heel to your call! With no disrespect intended may you see some honour in my actions and treat this one warrior to another, I will see you on the battlefield...soon…” He ends the transmission, rising from the command chair he presses his hands on the large holomap in front of him. “Go with haste Neive…”

[Neive Undant]

Prazutis took a moment to think. The impass was here... his job was to destroy force users within imperial space. And with the cease fire document now blocking Prazutis from helping his brother offensively, he would at least do what he could without doing anything against the Imperial code.
"I'll talk to the higher ranks... but I cannot promise anything. But until I do manage to get others to help you... as long as you do cooperate, I can do my best to give you asylum until the time comes." Prazutis quickly looked through the map of the galaxy through his computer, before sending him coordinates.
"Taanab... there, you can await your chance without any worry of populations or large military resistance... wait there and I will talk to the higher ranks for whatever they can do." Prazutis sighed, once the message was sent... he was distressed. He couldn't actively help his brother, but hearing what he had to say, would he really want Darth Tormentous to lead again? He couldn't allow Tormentous to return to power, but he didn't want to fight his brother... what would he do? The empire would push him to fight his kin... but could he bring himself to do so, if it came to his kin or his loyalty to the Empire?

[Rhoden Carbine]

Rhoden sat back and did nothing as Neive and whoever the hell it was on the other ship communicated. He, of course, monitored the communications. His hands were hovering over the system start ups, anticipating hostile action.

"Well at least it looks like one of them is... not hostile." he said, not quite sure whether or not friendly fit the current situation. he keyed over to a private channel with Neive, "Care to explain?" he asked, making sure he didn't take his eyes off of the Sith vessel.

[Slade Xandir]

[OOC: Okay, was nice about not saying anything before, but that seems to be where the mistakes come in at. Guys, there's a posting order. It's literally Krox, Me, Kell, Neive, Rhoden. (wherever Doren wants to throw himself in to the post, go for it.) I have no idea where this shambled, choppy order comes with you all rushing to post right after Krox, but regardless, whether it be this thread, or all others; HEED THE POSTING ORDER.. Otherwise, you'll ruin the story, and make people not want to rp with you.[/ooc]




Blood listened as after a moment of ominous and tense silence trespassed.


Finally, a response came to be.

“Lord Blood, your offer is generous indeed. But I’m afraid there is only one true Dark Lord of the Sith, and it is not you. I will not bow down to you, as you would not bow down to me, you took my apprentice, you took my right as Dreadlord, to glory and I will not trade my free will, my honour and dignity to heel to your call! With no disrespect intended may you see some honour in my actions and treat this one warrior to another, I will see you on the battlefield...soon…”

The Sithian scoffed with more humor than hatred at the current situation. It seemed the fellow Lord was delusional. Either that, or the brute was misled. And whatever the silence was that was prior betwixt them could have been the time the Zabrak was impregnated with his foolish view. The man was a beta, incapable of forming his own decisions, and while he would have been the perfect Master of War, his own unique views were nonexistent. He would be nothing more than a pawn under Blood, and though a valuable one, one for the Sith Lord to command at whatever whim he desired. It was true; Blood was indeed selfish. Unbeknownst to him, Neive was correct.

The draconian nodded to Raven to reopen the comms as he relayed his formed opinion back to the Zabrak.

"I claimed nothing on par with the Sith's Dark Lord." He took to a sigh, barrel-width chest expanding and retracting with terrifyingly impressive girth. "There is no honour for idiots, no dignity for dolts. The field you seek will be scarred with corpses of the fools you drag with you against me, writhing in cinders and crying in woe. And it will be your churlish decision that makes it so."

It was an impossible year passing with this Zabrak; the beta had been nothing but problems to Blood, as he posed the only link preventing Slade from letting go of that foolish pact of loyalty, just from his hide being saved. Serial killers didn't respect honor. They were beyond the days of honor and glory; this was a take one take all universe. Honor, dignity, was buried with the dead.

And Kroxata was soon to be with them.

"Scamper away with your mutts, dog. Your time will come. That is no threat...but a promise."

With cut-off to the signal, Blood instructed Raven to send a fleet of Infiltrator squadrons, and a few capitals to ready themselves for escortion. But with a pause, he figured he need not to. If the Imperials were not quick to latch onto Krox, and deemed him unworthy of their eye, then more often than not, no solace would be found for the Zabrak in this armstice of theirs. The alien would have to seek elsewhere for his respite, as Blood would not house him. And if he could convince the Imperials the Zabrak too was not worth their time, it would be a victory for him already in the making. But in all ultimate, he simply wanted the Zabrak dead. Whether he did it or the Imperials did it, or even if another faction offed him for his vile crimes, the Sith Lord cared little for.

Retrieving his connection with the Commander of the Imperial assets, Doren, Blood placed another ping to him. This time, that same humor he held previously touched that reptilian tongue of his.

"You'll never believe who backs into flank formation with your pair, here. Believe me when I admit this is no gift from me, Captain Doren."

It was then he felt the presence of Warvanus, his up-and-coming replacement of Kroxata. Warvanus had proven himself more than capable of handling any errand or task Blood had been too busy to attend to, himself. If anything, this priveledge had off-handedly grown Warvanus into a worthy pupil of the Sith Lord's 1 on 1 teachings. Together, they grew. And together, they would bring ruin to the enemies of the Sith, and soon the enemies of the Imperials. They would grow to run the universe in an unbreakable union.

Turning to the Apprentice, Blood regarded the admirable man with a nod. Gesturing to the viewport where the Maul was seen hammering away his survival rate, Blood spoke to the Ice Eyed man. "Too late he is set in his times, believing in the same mess of tradition that wound up so many weak and perishable beings. Honor, tradition, dignity, all of them are host in the Zabrak and will lead to his demise. Forget thissss not, my Apprentice, and your own power will surmise that of unified legions."

Turning back to the viewport, Blood leveled a chuckle from himself before stating,

"I'm sure you've already surpassed that of Kroxata, anyhow."

[Kell Sangros]

He stood on the bridge as he listened to the conversation between his Master and the Sith Lord Kroxota. He had barely known Kroxota but had been one that he could have learned a great deal from, but his delusional set of values would be his undoing. A Sith had to have some degree of loyalty until the time came to when the Apprentice would challenge their Master for the power that the Master embodied. Warvanus was not without a sense of loyalty to his Master. It was the putrid thing called honor, some warriors clung to it, some cared about it. For the Sith Apprentice he had no use for it, “Honor is for the dead” he thought to himself.

“Lord Blood, your offer is generous indeed. But I’m afraid there is only one true Dark Lord of the Sith, and it is not you. I will not bow down to you, as you would not bow down to me, you took my apprentice, you took my right as Dreadlord, to glory and I will not trade my free will, my honour and dignity to heel to your call! With no disrespect intended may you see some honour in my actions and treat this one warrior to another, I will see you on the battlefield...soon…”

Warvanus snarled and muttered “Fool” his venom and contempt in the single word. In the eyes of the apprentice he had signed his own death warrant. The time for Tormentous had passed he had let the Empire fall into stagnation and decay. Now Lord Blood had to repair his damage. He gave a nod to his Master when he saw he had caught his attention. At one time his master had many who he trained and now he was the sole apprentice. “The Strong rule the weak” he thought to himself.

“Honor, tradition, dignity, all of them are host in the Zabrak and will lead to his demise. Forget thissss not, my Apprentice, and your own power will surmise that of unified legions."

“Yes My Master” he said, taking the teaching to heart, he agreed and it was evident to the eyes of the apprentice, had the Sith stuck to tradition, they would have died out millennia ago. “He is delusional in his perverted sense of honor, honor is for the dead and the foolish” he said When his master turned back to the viewport he turned to gaze out at it. Out there a traitor to the Empire who was making a run for it. Had it been him in Krox’s shoes he would have taken a shuttle and had his ship ram the flagship and if that didn’t work he would fight his way to freedom, if he were to die, he died, if not then he could not ever be branded a coward.

“Coward” he spat, watching as the Maul was maneuvering to make a run for it. He was not a worthy Master of War. That title he would claim for himself when he was ready. He still had much to learn, A Master of War had to be ruthless, charismatic, and a good strategist. There was no room on the battlefield for honor or pity or mercy. For now he would continue to grow in power and knowledge as a Sith. That was his mandate and right now his purpose.

“I'm sure you've already surpassed that of Kroxata, anyhow” inwardly he smiled; it was a rare moment of praise, as despite Krox’s misplaced sense of values he was somewhat formidable he knew this first hand. That was a long time ago and his power had since then tripled. He continued to watch the scene unfold before them. Master and Apprentice.

[Kroxata Akhoi]

“Kroxata multiple Sith ships are preparing a hyperspace launch to our sector!”

Sirens echoed throughout the Maul, ringing into the eardrum of every officer, soldier and crewman aboard, morale dropped drastically, the Force moving like a vortex around Kroxata who simply sat with his eyes shut and breathing slowly. The sight of their own kind to be foes brought fear to many, confusion to some but betrayal to others and yet the Sith Lord was unphased. He had known one day a figure would turn against him, he foresaw it in a vision granted to him by a dying fool but here he was no champion of the Sith, with this action he would become a legend. The engines rumbled into full gear, the hyperdrive powering hum vibrations could be felt on the bridge deck, all the Dreadnaughts reservers being used to ensure it was prepared for a jump as quickly as possible, time was ticking for the legacy of the Dathomiri Hammer.

The transmission from Neive was personally sent to a small earpiece Kroxata had attached to his small throne to keep himself updating while he reached out with the Force, if there was one thing he learned amongst all else as a user of this godly power is that it guided all beings in the universe. In this moment of need, in this moment of crisis, the first chosen of Tormentous sought this same goal, the message did not bode well. His answer was all covered in too much uncertainty, too much risk, a simple discussion with superiors would not keep the tyrannical fist of Slade from hunting him, he needed allies, friends, people he could trust so that they may provide a future to one day coexist, after all the Zabrak had only wanted one thing since the very beginning of his journey, to revive his slowly dying race.

“Kroxata? We need a decision to be made now!”

His concentration broken by the commanding voice of Admiral Graden, opening his glowing eyes setting to his loyal lieutenant, staring down the giant among men. The force did not reveal much to him, only showing the ipending chaos and rage that would come from the new Dark Lords ruthless vengeance, in the peak of the madness he found a small speck of harmony, a place with no imminent danger, the calm wave directed out to the viewpoint of the bridge, Kroxata rose from his seat, slowly treading along the catwalk the officers all dashing around him to keep to their posts. His hand extended outwards feeling the same calming presence, his hand stopped almost reaching out to the plated glass seeing the small figures of Neive and his associates ship, the Empire. “Graden, get us out of here, set the hyper drive to jump to the Tanaab system we will work from there.”

“We have to wait, the hyperdrive has malfunctioned, it will take longer to before we can reach that distance!”

“We have no time left!”

The Force shoots migraines that graze over his mind from the deep vacuum of space, the sith warships had arrived, not entirely in range with the Maul that had gained some distance avoiding the inner sections of the sector, sticking to the borders to keep the illusion of his presence, a dangerous trick he learned from Graden. “Send our next coordinates to the imperial vessels! Let them know of the warships intent, if they wish my audience in one piece they will have to comply or we shall all perish…”

[Slade Xandir]

It took knowing the individual to know of their intent. He hadn't known much of Kroxata, as Slade had the majority of time with the Zabrak, but he knew from Slade's memories that he even loathed the 'Dreadlord'. It was the feeling of an arrow, a powerful and painful weapon, but without direction it was no more than a pointed stick with pretty feathers on it's end. Kroxata, the poor, ignorant bastard, would be aimlessly scouring for allies to give him that direction when his bow had offered him a place, strength, direction. But the pride was what culled Kroxata's ability to see logic from desire, as the Zabrak was a proud being. It was true, the comparisons...
As loyal as Warvanus was to he, Kroxata was to Tormentous.

But Warvanus had managed to get lucky; he was going to be on the winning team should unfortunate events befall their respected Master. It was a fortunate speck in an illusion of unfortunate illusion, as Tormentous has kickstarted much of what they needed to learn who they were, but had left them to their paths. Upon his own, he had found each steeping stone. He had come across many who were once with them, and in the garden around his stones, he had weeded out who truly were not on the same path as he. Even his own flesh and blood had turned against him, so much as attempting to kill him, but the Serpent Prince had been put underfoot and pressed down until his imprint lay in the dirt of his home.

Lilith was next on his target list. he had gotten close, but the feisty Daughter had continued to evade his tracking. Not even Raven had been able to find the golden-gazed spawn. But Kroxata had much to learn still, and amongst it was what tide was to be turned.

Until then, his name would be on Blood's list until it was erased away with the Zabrak's own blood.

His courtship with the Dark Side had proven to be something that kept him from falling into failure. And even right now, the death calling had beckoned to him, scaling up and down the spine of his mind with such a tease that it aroused the most destructive of wiles in him...
Cunning.

Patching the link back to the Zabrak himself, Blood curled his forked tongue into a sneer, but the words resounded with honest logic. "Kroxata, they will not take to you so kindly. In fact, if they take you, at all, they will strive to purge your wickedness out of you. Come, we will bring to present your future...and duel the way your silly pride wills it. From this day, you will see how a Dark Lord is forged."

As the last of his words resonated through the connection, the Infiltrator squadrons that were on standby suddenly made themselves apparent, and from the positions the held, they surrounded the Zabraks Dreadnaught with clear intent; to keep him there. Blood was swiftly moving, his massive body traipsing through the halls till he reached the bay. Turning around swiftly, Blood called over his shoulder to Warvanus. "Keep watch over this Naga; should either of these fools move so much as an inch, unleash yourself in the catalyst of this ship's weaponry, and annihilate them." That was all he said before boarding a vessel to transport him to the near Dreadnaught. He would be brought to the side of Kroxata's ship, surrounded by a flank of escorting variety in Blastboats and Infiltrators.

And he woud be expecting a boarding permission.

A few Massassi were aboard the ship with him, grunts and heaves of giant weapons, acting as guards and escorts for his newfound trail to the Maul. One by itself was plainly enough for a ship of mere mortals, but for Blood to be efficient should the situation turn traitorous, he supplied himself with 4.

At the doorstep of the enemy, he waited.

[Kell Sangros]

He was doing this all to himself he thought to himself. Why would he do this to himself but the answer was simple he had a distorted sense of honor among warriors. Warvanus was a warrior but he was a Sith first and foremost and Sith had no use for honor. Honor was for the dead. All that mattered was power and service to the Dark Side and to the sith as a whole. His time had come and now it had passed, Warvanus was on the ascent and one day his time would be passed too and someone would take his place. He only hoped if that day ever came that it would be someone worthy. He was stirred from his thoughts as his Master gave him his mandate. He was going to board the Maul. That put Warvanus in command until his Master’s return, maybe another test to see how he would fare.

“Yes My master it will be done”

he said as Blood left the bridge, when he was gone he took the command chair. Ordered all weapons to charge and be ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Outside of that this was a waiting game. He knew the gunners would do their job, and protect their Master as well. Warvanus kept himself open to the Dark Side.

Now all he had to do was wait and see how this would play out.