Nora looked up from the holographic display as Tahiri and TuQ'uan entered the command center, their distinct features adding an air of diversity to the room. Tahiri’s crimson red skin and lekku, adorned with Sith-influenced patterns, stood in stark contrast to TuQ'uan’s darker complexion and the enigmatic mask that concealed his Kel Dor features.
“Tahiri, TuQ'uan, we’re making excellent progress. The arrangements for the training camp are falling into place,” Nora greeted, acknowledging their presence.
Tahiri nodded, her yellow eyes glinting with a mix of determination and the dark influence she had willingly embraced. “The recruits are ready for the challenges that lie ahead. The Sith teachings resonate with them, and the trials will only strengthen their resolve.”
TuQ'uan, standing tall and imposing, inclined his head in agreement. “The security measures have been reinforced, and the hangar is secure. We’ll ensure a smooth arrival for the participants from the other clans.”
Nora eyed the holographic representation of The Pinnacle, a plan forming in her mind. “Excellent. Now, let’s focus on the specifics. Tahiri, oversee the combat training areas. Ensure the holographic simulators are calibrated for lightsaber duels and Force combat scenarios. TuQ'uan, coordinate with the security team to establish a seamless perimeter. We want controlled chaos, not pandemonium.”
As the Quaestors dispersed to attend to their assigned tasks, the room buzzed with efficiency. Tahiri, with her Togruta agility, gracefully moved to the designated combat training area, her flame-patterned montrals swaying with purpose. TuQ'uan, the Kel Dor exuding an air of pride, communicated through his Antiox mask with the security team, ensuring every detail was accounted for.
Nora took a moment to observe her companions, a silent acknowledgment of the unique paths that had brought them together. The scars and Sith markings on Tahiri and the imposing presence of TuQ'uan were testaments to the trials they had faced, the darkness they had embraced.
“Tahiri, TuQ'uan, this training camp is not just about honing our skills. It’s about forging alliances, testing limits, and ultimately, strengthening Clan Plagueis,” Nora declared, her voice carrying the weight of conviction.
As they delved deeper into the preparations, The Pinnacle resonated with a dark energy—an energy that pulsed through Nora, Tahiri, TuQ'uan, and every corner of the formidable structure. The training camp awaited, and the Sith within its walls would soon face challenges that would shape their destinies.
TuQ’uan walked around perimeter of the training grounds. His nose buried in his datapad going over details for the event. Nora’s plans were certainly ambitious, but he had come to expect nothing less from the Zeltron who had risen through the ranks going from new recruit to his new boss at a breakneck pace. Which was odd now that he thought about it because she always seemed to be sleeping while he was working away. But, he trusted Selika enough to agree with her decision. Or, at least he feared the dread lord enough not to question it.
As the Kel Dor completed his inspection of the areas security detail he saw the first arrivals enter the room. And so it begins, he thought to himself.
Azmodius approached the training ground, flask in hand. It had been a while since he had done any sort of group training, but he couldn’t refuse a request from TuQ. He chuckled as he recalled his last 2 expeditions to Dagobah and Mustafar.
This definitely won’t be as intense… or at least not as swampy… or HOT.
As he made his way further onto the grounds he noticed a familiar hat.
The Arkanian smiled, “It’s been a while, Tuq!” He held up his flask of vodka and offered the Kel Dor a swig. “Might help you relax a little.”
TuQ clapped his old friend on the shoulder.
“It’s been too long Az, I’m glad you can join us!” he replied, his mask distorting his natural voice. “You’ve still got that sense of humour I see.”
As a Lieutenant in the Ascendant Legion, Jasru Lakca was unsure why he had been ordered to the training facility. His loyalty to the clan was unquestioned, but his interactions with Force users was intentionally kept to an as-needed basis. They craved death a bit too much for his liking and seemed to gain joy from pain.
A shiver ran down his spine as he surveyed the individuals and small groups who waited for the fun to begin.
The crunch of gravel alerted him to someone approaching from behind. A quick turn of his head lead to a sharp about face as he noticed it was the new Proconsul closing toward him.
“Ma’am”, Lakca said with a salute.
“Stop with the formalities, Lieutenant,” Nora responded, “today is a day for fun.”
The sly smile that accompanied the reply did nothing to put Jasru at ease. The shiver was back. Nothing to do now but wait and see what lay ahead.
“Fun?” Hevan scoffed at the outlandish statment. “ Fun is for the dead. Focus if for the living.” He walked up to the Lieutenant and reached a rough and calloused hand out in greeting, a friendly smile on his face.
Jasru grasped the hand, accepting it for what it was, but leery to go beyond that with any of the Dark Jedi he served. He knew of Hevan’s military background, and that did account for much, but his own biases were hard to overcome.
“Focus, indeed. I have a feeling that those lacking this particular trait may find their time in these trials to be very painful.”
Hevan paused, his face momentarily clouded with slight puzzlement before he returned to his normal self. Shrugging, he brushed the clouds of doubt from his mind.
“Quite so. Lets hope for their sake that they find their focus then…”
He trailed off and patted Jasru on the back, doubt once again returning to his scarred and tired face.
Nora observed the interaction between Jasru Lakca and Hevan S with a faint amusement dancing in her emerald green eyes. The Ascendant Legion’s stoic lieutenant and the battle-hardened Hevan made for an interesting pair, each carrying their own reservations and histories.
“Ah, the banter of warriors. It warms my dark heart,” Nora remarked with a playful grin, stepping forward to join the duo. She spared Jasru a glance, sensing his unease, and then turned her attention to Hevan.
“Today is about more than just focus, Hevan. It’s about embracing the challenges that await us and forging bonds that transcend our individual paths. We are Sith, after all, and unity in purpose is our greatest strength,” Nora said, her voice carrying a subtle command that beckoned allegiance.
<@1168317596198772810> <@772511861085700126>
The glass doors slid open and the hulking, massive frame of the Shistavanen strode inside, walking upright. He had an idea about what will take place, but he was very curious as soon as he entered. He began be checking the perimeter, sniffing the walls and electric fences, snarling at the patrolmen, and poking the training dummies with his long sabre-like nails, as if daring them to come to life and fight him, even though he had no idea of what use these toys had.
Once the environment was checked, he began checking out the people there. Some of them he knew: Tuq, Nora, Tahiri, and Kryso. Most of the others were new faces. He took his sweet time, moving around new ones like Hevan and Jasru, half out of curiosity and half out of his default malevolent will to intimidate. In truth, he was sizing them all up before the training starts. When all of that was done, he gave a loud throaty grunt and stood by.
Khryso Mallus had arrived on Aliso a few days ago, but this particular event would serve as his return to the fold of Plagueis. During his vacation, the Chiss had done plenty of introspection and seen a fair few sights, but as he walked through the hardened, durasteel interior of the Pinnacle, it comforted him. No dirt, no putrid air or unwelcome fragrances, it was a contrast that served to remind him of who he was. Khryso belonged here. As much as the occasional expedition into Sith ruins or battlefield jaunt might invigorate him, it meant little without being able to return to the life he’d become accustomed to: that of a Plagueian Lord of the Sith.
As he entered the facility, Khryso noticed several beings he didn’t recognize mixed amongst the usual crowd. In time, should they prove notable, he would take the time to learn their names. For now, he moved towards TuQ'uan, intent on offering the man who had succeeded him as Right Hand of Dread a formal greeting. “Lord Varick,” he said, lowering his head slightly in a bow. “My apologies for being absent during the conflict with the Children. Although, it seems Plagueis did well enough without me present.” Khryso offered the slightest hint of a smile, the corner of his mouth twitching upward slightly. “However, I am once again eager to serve the Clan, if you have need of me.”
“We survived, some better than others,” he replied to the Chiss, his thoughts lingering in those they’d lost. “But, we can always use a man like you Khryso to teach these new recruits a thing or to.”
TuQ had an immense amount of respect for the former Quaestor of Tyranus and all that he had done for the clan over the years.
“New recruits? Ooo new meat!” exclaimed the redhead as she strode purposely into the room. Marching up to Tuq, she cocked her head to one side and froze as if listening to something. “The hat? Nah we like the hat. He does?” She raised an enquiring eyebrow at at Tuq as she looked him up and down. “Nope, he’s good with me,” she said, “So I ain’t gonna do it!” She walked up to Tuq with a grin across her face. “Hi Hatman! They said to kill ya, but I like the hat so I told ‘em no way!” She giggled and batted her eyelids. “So Mr. Hat, let’s show these new recruits some stuff shall we?” She unclasped a semi circular shaped lightsaber hilt from her belt, unhinging the semi circle to create a full ring as she did so. “Where do ya want me to start?” she smiled, her head on one side. The mission on the Anchorage years ago had obviously left a lasting scar on Taranae’s mind. She was as unhinged as her lightsaber was. She just knew this was going to be fun.
“Good to hear,” Khryso said in response, once again glancing around the room to take in the new faces. As he looked around, he noticed Taranae approaching the Hand of Dread and stepped back to make room for her, offering a subtle bow in greeting. It had been a long time since the Chiss had seen Taranae, another former Quaestor of Tyranus and one of his mentors when he had served as Aedile. That being said, given her circumstances, he was not eager to engage her in conversation.
As she began to speak with Varick, Khryso strolled away, his gaze passing over the various training facilities that were on offer. While he had come prepared for the activities the summit had arranged, he was hesitant to be the first to step forward and engage himself. Instead, upon sighting Plagueis’ new Wrath, he decided to approach Nora Olen. It was a name he had heard a lot in the past couple of years, but being in separate Houses, he had never had the chance to properly interact with Plagueis’ rising star outside of passing her by in larger clan gatherings.
“Wrath Olen,” he said, lowering his head, “Warlord Khryso Mallus. Congratulations on your promotion.” He offered his hand for a shake. “Thank you for hosting this event. If I may ask, what facilities would you recommend for a warm up?”
“With you involved, I know it will be interesting! Maybe we can get some sparing going,” he replied. “And Taranae,” TuQ paused. “No maiming the recruits please.”
“Yeah, I’ve been maimed enough for today I think.” Hevan called over from where he was sitting, carefully checking his blaster for any damages as he talked. “Had enough of being maimed. Gets right annoying after enough times.”
Tarane whipped her head around to stare at the new voice. “Not seen you around, newbie! Hmm, limbs attached,” she said as she took in the newcomer’s body, “you don’t even know you’ve been maimed until your arm’s gone!” She chirped happily. Cocking her head and staring upwards she said, “Yeah he is new. No i don’t think he needs that. Hmm maybe?” She focused on Hevan again. “Ya never know, ya might even be able to hit me!” At this, she broke into fits of giggles and sat down hard, clutching her sides as she laughed.
Hevan stared blankly. He blinked a few times, opened his mouth as if to talk, but instead resigned simply to shrugging, choosing to continue his cleaning instead of retorting. With some effort, he pushed any confusion from his mind, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand.
A few days ago Livia got a message from her master Tahiri Thorn morte Tarentae, to meet at the training grounds today.
As she made her way to the training grounds, she started to go through her mental check list of all her equipment. Making sure she had everything that could ever possibly need. Never knowing what challenges her master might throw at her. She had spent the last couple day cleaning her all of her equipment. Making sure to sharpen all of her knives, tune her blasters and sabers, double checking and triple checking every thing.
Kitsunenowa (her vulptex companion)nuzzled her leg as they neared the entrance, “All right Kitsu let’s go find master” she said as she entered the training grounds wondering what type of training her master had in store for her.
A few days ago Sarai got a call from an old friend and someone she hadn’t seen since the last Great Jedi War she participated in. With a smirk at the memory of fighting crystals in hand to hand combat, the former Admiral put her old uniform on and made her way onto the training grounds of Aliso, as she exited her ship the **Escalivsr. **The Anzat woman looks at the other assembled clan members and nods at some of them, before making her way to her master <@248871422150180865>
“Is she going off the rails again <@379840612788076544> ?” Sarai asked.
TuQ’uan glanced over at Taranae seemingly talking to herself and shook his head turning to address Sarai.
“I don’t think she was ever really on the rails, but it may be worse than it ever now.”
Nora’s emerald-green eyes flickered with recognition as she spotted Sarai amidst the bustling training grounds of Aliso. Memories of their last encounter during the Great Jedi War resurfaced, woven with the threads of shared triumphs and battles.
Approaching Sarai with a composed demeanor, Nora’s expression softened into a polite smile. “Sarai,” she acknowledged, her tone measured yet welcoming, “it’s been too long since our paths crossed.”
Sarai snickers at TuQ as she cracks her knuckles, “who would you rather whip the recruits into shape my battle junkie master, or the battle honed Admiral..?” The Anzat spun around upon hearing Nora’s voice, and with a slight smile she smoothly replied to her old friend from the war. “It certainly has been, Nora. I hope you are keeping well? I’ve heard that you have keeping busy. Congratulations on becoming Proconsul. I’m happy that you got the opportunity!”
Nora observed the banter between Sarai and TuQ with a glint of amusement dancing in her emerald-green eyes. She acknowledged Sarai’s words with a nod of appreciation, the weight of her leadership role subtly reflected in her demeanor.
“Sarai,” Nora replied, her voice carrying a blend of warmth and authority, “thank you for your kind words. The path of leadership has been both challenging and rewarding. Your presence here adds to the richness of our endeavors.”
“And are you ready to join us in training, Sarai?” Nora inquired, her tone carrying a subtle challenge laced with anticipation.
Sarai’s eyes flashed with excitement and anticipation as she loosened her muscles and slid into a battle ready stance as she smirked at her friend. “Let us show these raw recruits what they can accomplish with training!”
Nora’s lips curved into a knowing smile at Sarai’s eager response. “Indeed, Sarai,” she affirmed, her voice carrying a note of confidence. “Together, we’ll mold them into formidable warriors worthy of our legacy.”
“The best way is to show them why we are among the best of the Clan!” Sarai agrees as she suddenly and sharply jabs her hand over Nora’s shoulder
Nora chuckled at Sarai’s enthusiastic agreement. “Actions speak louder than words,” she remarked, gracefully walking towards the training mat section. Without a word, she slid into a ready stance, emerald-green eyes gleaming with anticipation, ready to demonstrate the prowess that defined Clan Plagueis.
Expertly slinging off her boots as she walks onto the training mat, Sarai efficiently and sharply throws a flurry of blows towards Nora. “Thank you for the exercise regardless of the outcome my friend.” Sarai says as her body moves with centuries of practiced experience
Nora deftly parried Sarai’s blows, her movements fluid and precise. “The pleasure is mine, Sarai,” she replied, a hint of challenge in her eyes.
Smirking as she gets fired up, after her first few blows get deflected, Sarai deftly kicks her right leg at Nora as she jabs her left arm at the Zeltron’s face at the same moment. “How challenging has your new position been for you?” Sarai asks.
With a swift motion, Nora sidestepped Sarai’s kick, her agility matching the Anzat’s precision. As Sarai’s jab aimed for her face, Nora deftly ducked under the attack, her movements fluid and calculated.
“Leading Clan Plagueis has tested my limits in ways I couldn’t have imagined,” Nora replied, her voice ringing clear over the sounds of their spar. “But with challenges come growth, and I embrace each trial as an opportunity to evolve.”
With a subtle shift in stance, Nora launched into a series of quick strikes, her movements a testament to the discipline and determination that defined her leadership.
Fenrir squatted on the floor while watching everyone else train, his eyes half-closed. Some of them paired up, such as Nora and Andromeda. Others were starting their unique warmup routines. Fenrir’s warmup routine wasn’t much unique, apart from some parts of course. After all, he was anything but predictable. He leapt up and started warming up, limbering up his limbs. Fortunately, there was a small but adequately furnished obstacle course. The obstacle course was simple: a series of high jump bars, a tunnel to crawl under, a wall for climbing, and a free running distance. This is what he tackled first: jumping clean over some obstacles while bouldering through others (he likes to cheat!), climbing over the wall, crawling under the makeshift tunnel, and running the distance before circling over the obstacle area once more. Regardless to say, he was running on all fours. This he continued a few times to get his heart rate up before actually starting combat training.
He then wondered if he could used a combat droid or something similar for training. Luckily, they had that too. This remote droid would hover in mid-air, move swiftly, and fire stun bolts. The Firrerro-Shistavanen hybrid licked his lips and started moving around the droid quickly, using speed, agility and Force powers to avoid being hit. This he found very fun, and howled and roared in excitement, and moved faster with a relish, using the Force to augment his speed. Then suddenly, he’d stop and within moments hide himself through the Force. Creeping around the training droid on silent feet, he enjoyed stalking his prey. It was a sadistic thought, for the droid was not capable of seeing through the veil. He uncloaked just seconds before leaping up smashing the droid with his clawed paws, sending it skittering and screeching along the floor. Fenrir lost no time in seeking out the fallen, helpless training droid. He merely grabbed it in his mouth and started gnawing it like a chewing toy, and squatted down once more to enjoy his easy prize. The fact that it was short-circuited and was spewing forth angry sparks was looked at with nothing but curiosity.
TuQ lifted his gaze from the datapad in his hand at the sound of crunching metal and sizzling sparks and shook his head. He flagged down a member of the staff nearby.
“Yes, sir?” the young human asked, head bowed slightly.
“It appears we lost one of our training remotes. Get some more from the armoury and put in an order for another half dozen.” As the man turned to leave TuQ turned back to the Firrerreo-Shistavanan hybrid and spoke up again. “Actually, make it a dozen.”
@everyone Just a reminder that we have 10 days left!!
Taranae pushed herself up from the floor, dusting herself off. She glanced over at the destroyed training drones on the floor and Fenrir, chomping merrily on a sparking piece of circuitry. “Here doggy, doggy, doggy!” she chirped. Let’s get you some proper fightin’ shall we?“ She flourished her lightsaber as she stepped onto a sparring mat near him and activated the two blades. Both extended outwards and crackled noisily. The unstable blades sang as she made practice swings around her body. "Ready when you are, puppy! Let’s do this thing!” She smirked as she took up a battle ready stance, waiting to see how Fenrir would react.
“Woof!” Fenrir seemed visibly excited at Taranae holding her two lightsaber, for she was one of his former battleteam mates. To him, she was as much wild and crazy as he was, and there had been many times in battles and skirmishes that the two created chaos among overwhelming number of enemies. Anyway, here she was, moving her glowing sticks once more. Fenrir always loved the sighted of glowing sticks that the Jedi and Sith used, but he knew better than biting them. To him, they were solidified fire of some kind. So while he looked visibly excited like a pup being shown a glow stick toy, the behemoth wolf maintained his distance. He’d thumped his chest and roared out a challenge, and started weaving in and out of the field of her lightsaber blows, making sure he was out of her reach. This is enjoyed a lot, which became more and more evident from his snarls, barks, whines, and other animalistic noises.
At a distance, Eiko paced methodically, his hands folded behind him. His focus flicked between Taranae and the stark black shape she’d addressed as “doggy.” While Fenrir seemed more than happy to dance around her saber’s arcs, Eiko wanted nothing more than to refresh his mental notes.
Every time he landed on Aliso, he found it full of new faces – or at least changed ones. At least the hat hadn’t changed, and the orchestrations of the Wrath were aimed positively. He wandered across the cavern of a training room, sidling up next to TuQ'uan.
“I hear,” his metallic voice started quietly, “there are good credits to be made in bite-resistant materials or cheaper entertainment. I know some traders who could bring in some sticks – or sedative darts.”