It was rapidly approaching dinnertime, and the smell of roasted meat and vegetables started to pour from the kitchen, a hive of activity coming from within. As waitresses reported back to the kitchen, the stark white light spilled out, a stark contrast to the neon and shadows of the rest of the bar. The cyborg wheeled through, running to the bar for a bottle of Corellian brandy that the chef had asked for. She slowed as she passed Malisane and Locke’s table, checking in.
“Once the smell flows out, I imagine there’ll be plenty of people looking for dinner.” Dally flicked her datapad from the pocket at her hip. The cyborg smiled at Roxas as he finished up his plate. “This guy knows what’s up.” She lifted the empty plate from the table, looking at Lock with a smile. “Did you want me to have them put something together for you before that happens?”
The clacking of steel on steel drew her attention up from them for a moment, eyes darting to the crimson armor of the Alchemist as he scored a free play on his game. A quick look to Malisane and she shrugged off the thought. “I can recommend the smokeroast, if you’re not sure. Chef Boursey’s been smoking it since yesterday night, and it’s delicious.”
His attention momentarily taken by the passing droid, he turned back to the Ragnos Quaestor. “I am content Epis. I reside in my cave by the sea, and exercise or meditate until the Summit have a task they need performed. I have a fresh water spring, fish, and the many small mammals that scurry amongst the rocks make an acceptable stew with local herbs. And porg have recently begun to nest in the area.” He was about to ask a further question when he suddenly heard a commotion and a loud and familiar booming tone from near the door. Quickly he rose and pushed through to the entrance. Facing it was Zero the astromech, panels open and retracted, his blaster cannon and anti armour rifle aimed at a diminutive, cloaked figure in the doorway. He emitted another angry tone. A gravelly voice remarked. “Your droid remembers me Jedi.” “Zero, back down!” the Sith ordered. He inclined his head slightly at the noghri, “I did not expect you this early.” There was a slight shrug from under the cloak. “You have my apologies.” Malisane looked around, consious that many eyes were on them following the disturbance. “Go and have a drink on the house. I will join you later.” “As you wish.”
Malisane made his way back to the table, where <@225840973802897408> was sat, apparently not having noticed the disturbance and staring at his empty glass. “I apologise Epis. I have business to attend to later.”
Roxas placed his hands on the table with a thud and stood up. “Well, I guess I’ll walk around and get my bearings about the place” he said as he set his helmet partly on his face leaving his mouth open before taking a swig from the bottle of Mandalorian spirits. As he left from the table he nearly ran into the droid Zero and was met with booming and beeps. “Oh excuse me, I didn’t know pressure cookers could talk” Roxas quipped back at the droid before laughing and continuing on his way. He ended up by the stage watching a lovely twilek perform. His bottle started getting low, so we waved for another as he sat back in his seat.
“Ping! Pew! Pew!” Macron twisted as he sank the last ball. “Damn. I’m out.” He looked around for a table. A corner booth looked promising. “This one looks good, Syra. Come Twenty Two.” The motley crew stepped over and sat down as the scents of food wafted about. Dally the cyborg approached their table.
“Query: is this a subject for…” The HK droid fell silent as Macron glared at it.
“Forgive my droid. I will have a Gungan steak, rare.” The Alchemist smiled. Syra looked at him askance.
“Sir, we don’t typically serve sentients. I mean, serve sentient beings as cuisine,” quipped the cyborg. “May I recommend the roast beast?”
“Ah. Sure that will do. And whatever the lady wants,” said the Alchemist as he gestured at Syra.
“I will have some of that smokeroast please.” As the cyborg headed to the kitchen the Knight turned to her host. “So tell me. What is it you wish to hire me for?” “I need a decent pilot,” remarked the madman. “My own skills are limited and my Ar-Three is only one droid. I have a new ship being delivered.”
“Oh, I see.” The Arkanian looked thoughtful. “What class?”
“Phoenix class Sheathipede.” The cyborg returned with plates and began to place them as the Adept spoke. “Cost me a pretty penny but the The Silooth’s capabilities are… more.”
Quentin entered the banquet hall the smells of the roasted meat was almost made his mouth water, Now he thought about it he couldn’t recall last time he had ate anything since he started this damn old book. Taking a seat across from one of his house members that had a hk unit tower beside him, he pulled his hood back off his head revealing his hair to no suprise matched his peppered beard, it was slicked back and hung just below his shoulders. Waving a waitress over “Bring me what ever was prepared thanks” he says with a slight nod of thanks.
Tasha'vel finally decided to move away from the corner and made her way closer towards Macron’s table. She saw him in a conversation and decided to not interrupt. She then saw Quentin ordering nearby. She waved to him and decided to come over to greet the man.
“Ah.” Macron stopped eating and put his fork down while wiping his scarred and tattooed face with a napkin. “Adept Tasha. It is so good to see you, my old friend! Syra, this is one of the best operatives I have worked with. She is good people. We fought many battles together- and we won. Tasha, this is Syra Dath, my new pilot.”
“Nice to meet you,” spoke the young white-haired Arkanian politely as Tasha sized her up. “I served on Gamuslag.” She made an effort to compose herself and make sure no protocols were breached. Her nervousness was obvious but she did her best to control it.
“Well, that makes you immediately suspicious,” said the Twilek. “I know very well what went- or still goes on there.” Her blue Lekku twitched. “You are a Sith, no? I can feel it.”
“Well, yes Adept. I am. I am young, and I have much to learn.” The Arkanian smiled disarmingly. She could be very charming and she was obviously sincere. “Adept Macron has hired me to pilot. I am happy to meet one of his old friends. Hopefully I can learn from you.”
“I see. Very good. I would hate to break your legs.” Tasha spoke matter-of-factly with little inflection. “Be on your best behavior.”
“Tasha is very talented with a lightsaber,” chuckled the Alchemist. “Djem So. You could learn from her, if she doesn’t kill you first. Such is the way of the Sith. Tasha, we should have an Echani conversation soon. It warms the soul and keeps us both on our toes.”
About that time Quentin sat down and ordered whatever was on the menu.
Macron spoke up. “Welcome, Quaestor. Yours is a noble assignment. Thank you for your service.” The Alchemist gestured to a serving droid. “How about a drink and a fat Corellian cigar for this man. The mantle of leadership is heavy. Many of us know it well. The worst part is seeing your people hurt and die.”
Tasha'vel gave a sort of smile to the old scientist. “Macron, my friend it has been awhile. I have done quite a bit was even Proconsul for awhile, but I needed to step down for other duties and dear me you are very flattering on my abilities.” Without even looking, she waved her right hand as a glass of bourbon flew to it from the bar counter. She took a drink. “Oh, this is quite nice, but tell me what interesting things have you been up to of late?” She then waved her left hand as she took another drink to look at one of the menu’s on Macron’s table. “Hmm, I think I will also try that smokehouse.” She then let the menu drop again as she turned her attention back to Macron. “Yes we should, it’s been awhile since I had good talk about the Echani, I still have my father’s amazing vibroblade if you ever wanted a really good look at an Echani rapier.”
Quentin smiles politely “No thanks is needed Macron, I am rather honored to be of service to the clan” Quentin pauses for just a moment to turn his head to Tasha'Vel “Its good seeing you Tasha it has been some time, should you ever require the help of Shar Dakhan it is at your disposal” Quentin finishes with a slight bow of his head. The waitress sets Quentin’s food before him it took all his retraint not just to tear into it trying to be civilized at the table of elders.
Tales of old and new were being tossed around, jovial exchanges were abundant. Everyone looked to be indulging themselves in food and drink. The perils of the Clan always seemed to drown out those moments easily taken for granted. So down time like this was very coveted and welcomed.
One of the server’s maneuvered around folks carrying a large tray with several plates of meat skewers and sizzling roasts in one hand. In the other, a couple large pints of ale. Delivering the entrees without so much as a morsel or a spill hitting the floor. The staff here was on point, and the smell from the kitchen was more than enticing.
A series of beeps emitted from DarkHawk’s data pad. He pulled the data pad out and was immediately engrossed in the message feed. Walking right past Lord Keibatsu, a surprised look blanketed the Consul. “Good news?” Lord Keibatsu asked before finishing off his drink.
DarkHawk stopped short, turned and handed Lord Muz his data pad. An Arx Acquisitions and delivery request titled the feed. Lord Keibatsu’s eyes narrowed momentarily, then a rise of an eyebrow. “Imposing, her name?” asked the Keibatsu.
The Reaver, replied DarkHawk.
“To take by force…fitting.”
It was a nice ship. The fury-class was as long as his own baby, but not nearly as tall. Muz leaned back, letting his voice rest, bathing it in a dram of good whisky. He debated a few options for himself. He had rotated between a few options for shuttles, and had only recently picked up a Theta from the core. It seemed to be working well. Plenty of money had been spent on getting the interior back to where he liked, but it had room to bring needed backup wherever he wanted, without having to engage the second fleet. It was a little under-armed though. The Mandalorian built Komr'k-class ships were a great blend of assault and transport and he liked the design, but there was no way to fit one into the maw of the Spear without extensive renovations.
He tapped his finger on the side of the glass, watching across the bar, extending his senses to*feel* the tenor of the room. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Good. Once the intelligence came in that he was looking for, all of the major players were here. The consul and he could take volunteers and brief them immediately, dispatching from there. Muz and Darkhawk were rather optimistic on the initial reports, but he wanted to be sure before commiting clan forces to anything. It could work out rather well.
<@524388230481707009>
Muz stood up slowly, nodding at the Consul as he moved away, footsteps taking him around the circular bar, one of the Bobots keeping pace with him as he did. He came to astop at her shoulder, resting his drink on the bar next to hers. “Thanks, Sully.” He spoke slowly, his voice rattling around in the Lasat’s head as he spoke. The Lion’s voice did that, his use of telepathy as natural as breathing, to the point that he had trouble remembering to turn it off, often causing some confusion or discomfort among those who were not accustomed to being in his presence. He always chose his words carefully, using as few as possible, as though he paid dearly for each one. He did, really, his voice sore from lack of use, from months where not a single utterance came through his vocal cords. Too many people spoke extra words just to hear themselves talk, to fill the air. It was inefficient to him. Muz preferred a much more direct form of communication.
Sully nodded, turning away to converse with Leena as Muz let a smile creep up toward his eyes, unspoken words behind his sable and her cerulean.
<@586720783481569290>
After a few more attempts to engage the quiet Quaestor in conversation, Malisane slowly made his way to the back of the bar, the black astromech following. With a look around the room he sat at a booth opposite the noghri hunter as Zero swivelled round to stand guard.. “So, what information do you have for me?” Sarthis removed his datapad from beneath his cloak and placed it on the table, transmitting a file to the Sith’s device. “It is as you suspected Jedi, you are being targetted. It appears to be for personal reasons.” Malisane nodded. It was not exactly new to him, he had crossed many over the years. “Who?” “A former agent of those who call themselves The Children. Once one of The Father’s most ruleless followers, and the mate of one you killed during their invasion.” Malisane looked at the file. He recognised the name from intelligence via his links to the Inquisitorius. “The Third Cousin, Twice Removed. Our sources believed she had been been eliminated.” The noghri shook his head slowly. “She has been seen on Aeotheran Jedi, from the files you supplied it is a hundred percent match.”
Malisane considered this. A strong agent of the Children was a serious threat, and even if it was personal he could not allow The Third Cousin, he glanced at his datapad again, Twice Removed, to threaten the integrity of His Clan. He scrolled down the screen. “You have her present location?” “She has been searching the islands Jedi,” Sarthis replied, “thoroughly but with high efficiency.” The Sith frowned. If that was true then the enemy must know he did not reside at Mt Dakhan. That meant she already had intelligence on him. “Very well,” he replied, “your payment will be transmitted, and I will have your outstanding warrants in the system purged.” The noghri studied him. “If you require I can track down and disable the threat for the right price,” he offered, his real and false eye meeting the Sith’s own. “That will not be nessesary,” Malisane replied, “I have some experience in disabling threats as you put it. I will find this Third Cousin…” “Twice Removed,” the noghri added. “Twice Removed and eliminate her. Our business is at and end. We may have more business for you in the future. I suggest in the time being you do not take further assignments against our assets or personell again or we will not be as forgiving.” Sarthis nodded. “I understand.” He stood and left. The Sith sat quietly for a few minutes, then got to his feet.
“I have not taken possession of her yet sir. Moff Simonetti has her tucked away aboard the Perdition. He is transporting her from ARX as we speak.”
Nodding over towards Ty and Blackwind, <@854787468817858591> glanced over to see the two Generals were deep in conversation. “I figured Ty could run her through her check flight first before we take her out on missions. He will try to persuade General Blackwind to join without a doubt. Those two will push that ship to her limits.
“Or skuttle her,” Koji said with a small smirk.
DarkHawk could not help being amused by the comment. “That would depend on how much whiskey is involved tonight!”
The conversation was interrupted by the series of beeps from DarkHawk’s comm unit. Excusing himself for a moment, DarkHawk answered the hail.
“Sepros One, this is Kinrath lead. Deep probe sensors have unidentified transponder signals in Quebec sector. Requesting permission to intercept.”
“Kinrath lead, stand fast one mike”
The Shaevalian scowled at the news for a moment, What is a party without a crasher?, he thought. He began to move towards Lord Keibatsu but then stopped short. Since returning to Summit, speaking telepathically more frequently with the Kei was still a work in progress. It did not matter the stature of a person, when you hear that voice boom in your head, one takes pause. DarkHawk cleared his mind then concentrated on his connection with the Force.
Sir, patrols have picked up some unidentified transponder signals in the Quebec sector. I believe this would be an ideal time to unleash the hounds. Let the new fighters get their feet wet.
Muz turned his attention towards DarkHawk momentarily, a very narrow grin fell across him. Indeed, let’s let them hunt.
“Kinarth lead this is Sepros One. Send coordinates to the fleet. We will scramble support ships to that location. Maintain patrol and move SITREPs up to every quarter hour.”
“Copy that Sepros One, sending coordinates now.
“So there we were. I had just finished cutting the head off of the Gomorag fellow. Most satisfying I tell you. And then…” Macron closed his mismatched eyes suddenly and fell silent. When he opened them, he turned his head to look at Darkhawk. <@524388230481707009>
“What is the matter?” quipped Syra quietly. The Knight looked puzzled. Though she had worked as a shuttle pilot based on Gamuslag, she had never spent much time with the madman. Going down into the deeper levels of the facility was known to be a Bad Idea.
“He gets like that,” commented Tasha matter-of-factly. “Farseeing. I never cultivated it much myself. The visions can be troubling, I hear.” The Marauder sipped on her drink. “Which doesn’t really matter if you are already nuts.”
The Alchemist turned back to the group. “Tasha can cut you off from the Force,” chuckled the madman. “A gift I do not possess. We have trouble out on the edge of the system. It may be something more than it appears.” The Sith stood up and brushed the crumbs off his armor. <@277745193527279626>
“Sounds like a fight brewing.” Tasha put down her juice and stood up as well. “Yet another bunch of fools attempting to cause trouble probably.” She clenched one blue fist and her scarred Lekku twitched. “Good. It’s been a while and I need to let off some steam.” Tasha regarded the baffled-looking Knight. “Not very bloodthirsty for a Sith, are you?”
“No ma'am.” Syra stood as well. “My thing is piloting. It’s not as personal when you blow somebody away in a ship I guess.” The Knight shrugged. “But it contributes to the cause and keeps us safe.”
She laughed. “Well if someone is shooting at me via ship, I would not mind seeing one blow up in front of me. Though, if I really want to I could surprise them. I have heard of some Telekinesis users being powerful enough to take a ship down with The Force. Though if you would like to learn a bit more about wielding a blade, or lightsaber form, I could teach you a few things. Granted, I am a harsh teacher though, I will warn you.” She then turned to Macron. “So you do know I still need some more Echani martial arts lessons, I am afraid those have been slacking a bit of late due to not having a master to spar with.”
Having drawn himself up, Bentre strode toward the current Overlord. His focus was so complete that he barely noted as he passed Tasha'Vel. They would have words later. He hadn’t forgotten what she had taken from him. He felt a shiver of rage trickle over him, unbidden, which struggled to settle. He had nearly done so as he came to a stop beside Muz Ashen. He considered how to break the ice, but thought better of it. Instead, he motioned to Bobot. “One Corellian Ale.” He paused. “Please.”
The blue twilek singer has a lovely voice. The band accompanying was clearly very talented. Roxas stood with a heavy buz from the alcohol and his bottle now empty. He placed a tip at the edge of the stage and headed back into the cantina he saw <@297496904282144769> make his way around the bar and stop by the lion of Tarthos. He hadn’t known him long and figured he may as well introduce himself properly. He walked a little smoothly feeling the alcohol as he approached the bar and set the empty bottle down for the bar tender to grab and then said something that would surprise any Sadowan, “I’ll have an ice water please.” Bobot scooped up the empty liquor bottle and replaced it with an ice water rapidly. Bentre looked at the Mandalorian taken slingshot aback by the drink order as Roxas removed his helmet and took a big sip. The Mandalorian exhaled and said “we haven’t been formerly introduced, it’s nice to meet you In Roxas” and then outstretched his hand for a shake.
Bentre blinked a few times. Thinking back, he really hadn’t ever been terribly familiar with Roxas. He thought back.
Roxas Buurenaar. Mandalorian. Dxun. Long history in the Clan. Affiliations…
Suddenly, the Adept broke the train of thought. The extended hand had been held out in an awkward, extended silence. He reached out to firmly grip the Mandalorian’s hand. He would review his notes later to see if he had missed anything. “Bentre Stahoes. Glad to finally meet you properly then, Roxas.” The Sith gave a smile that was only half-felt. He was uncertain of Roxas’ immediate, current affiliations. For the first time in ages, he really felt the nakedness of having disconnected from the Archives, and his memory seemed to be failing him. “I will admit one thing.” He nodded to the Equite’s helmet. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting too many of your lot in my time running about the galaxy. ” He smiled, this expression causing his face to light up somewhat. “I will bet you have some killer stories from over the years.”
<@1171812493715308668>
As Bentre strode in passing Tasha'vel, she looked at her husband as her emerald eyes flashed intense hatred. Her hands itched to just pull her lightsaber and end the man’s life, but she couldn’t do that here. Glaring vehemently, she stayed her hand and instead grabbed the drink from the table and drank it down.
Sully looked around the area before leaning towards Leena, “So…” he started, “What’s this group like? You’ve worked with them before, right”
Leena’s right lekku twitched slightly as she turned to look around the bar. “They’re ok. I’ve never had any problems with them.” Her right hand reached up and stroked the lekku slightly, much like one would their hair.
“Any idea what we’re here for?” The Lasat took a big swig of his drink, then leaned his arms against the bar.
The Twi’lek looked at him and gave a smirk of a smile that reached her violet eyes but said nothing.
Muz leaned in towards her, an almost predatory look gracing his eyes. She knew that look all to well as he leaned his forehead against hers but for a moment in a show of affection.
‘Ashia or Axi?’ the thought permeated her mind. The voice behind it, a soothing sound that she’d heard thousands of times.
‘Ashia. Not many of them know me as Axi.’ She pushed her thoughts back towards him.
‘Why here?’ Her own thoughts moved towards him as she took another sip of her whisky.
‘There’s something that’s been…found. I’m waiting on some intel but as soon as I have confirmation, well…let’s just say, it’ll be worth it.’
Finishing his food and seeing all the happenings around him, he is reminded why he prefers his books and scrolls. His commlink buzzed and Quentin couldn’t be more thankful for it. Rising from his seat he gives a small bow to both Macron and Tasha “If you will excuse me, a Quaestors job is never done” Quentin says politely before heading out of the dinning room to a quieter spot to answer his commlink.
Roxas nodded as he turned toward the bar and took another big sip of his water before continuing “Yeah I do. I’ve seen and killed a lot of things for Naga Sadow. I’m interested in what or who I’ll have to hunt next.” His alchemic crimson eyes looked around the room before focusing back on <@297496904282144769> “It’s nice we have a place where all of us can actually socialize and mingle some. Reminds me of the bar I had in Markosian city. This is much more discreet though, which is better.”
Approaching <@284848346672136192> he makes a humble bows before him, “I would like to thank you for my invitation, this place is amazing and hope to return here soon but for now I must take my leave for I have to leave for Rishii. My students should be arriving soon to begin their training, they are strong in the force but still have much to learn to become true Krath.” He humbly tells Muz with great respect.
Muz turned from Ashia, seeing the Krath approach out of the corner of his vision. He nodded at the man as he explained. “You may want to hurry back.” He explained, the depth of his voice echoing within his ears and his head. “There’s something coming that you may not want to miss.” Muz let half a smile creep up his lips toward his eyes. It had been a while since he had rolled out on a mission with Sadowans, and he looked forward to seeing how they operated as a team these days. Enough of the old guard were here that he imagined it would be similar to what he remembered, but still…it would be good to keep the dust off of his hilts.
“What would we miss?” Leena’s eyebrow shot up at the Lion’s words. “I never…” She sat her glass down aggressively, “…miss.”
Muz tilted his head at her, slightly shaking his head in amusement. “We’re waiting on intel for an expedition.”
“Oh, out with it already.” Leena chuckled, then muttered to herself. “All this creepy trickling secret stuff…”
Muz laughed at her nerve. She had come a long way in her comfort amongst the Clan. It was a fair question. “My research tells me of a hidden facility in the old Sith Empire.” He paused to let his voice rest, looking at Darkhawk before continuing. “Something uncovered but never explored during the Dark Crusades.” He stopped, waiting as more clan members gathered around. Making direct eye contact with Macron, he continued.
“Vodal Kressh.”
<@1147585737177432077> <@524388230481707009> <@586720783481569290>
“Vodal Kressh.” Macron echoed the Grandmaster’s statement quietly. “There is a hoary name not often spoken these days.” A slow grin split his scarred face. “Very interesting.” The Adept clapped HK 22 on the back with a clang. “My friend, you will get to terminate some sentients after all it seems.” The Alchemist looked at Tasha'Vel. “And we can continue your Echani training.”
“And who is that?”, asked Syra Dath. “The name Kressh I have heard. Wasn’t he some famous Sith back in the day?” The Knight looked puzzled. “I have to admit, I did not do that well in history classes at the Academy. I was busy with other things.” She looked at Tasha as the Twilek drained a glass. “I would love to take you up on that offer of training.”
“Getting into trouble, no doubt,” Tasha murmured as she wiped her blue lips. “I was the same as a young woman. I suggest you stock up on bacta then. You will need it. Of course, Macron has a medical droid…”
“Oh no, no. I heard what those droids did back on Gamuslag. No thanks.“ She shuddered. “But seriously, who is this mystery Sith?” The Knight looked around at the room now abuzz with quiet conversation regarding the announcement.
“You are referring to Ludo Kressh, my poorly educated friend. A very famous Sith Lord from the time of Naga Sadow, our namesake. Wrong Sith I am afraid. No, Vodal Kressh was one of his descendants. A power-mad genius alchemist with a cult following that apparently exists to this day on Athiss. It is rumored during the Cold War that his cult was eliminated. I have my doubts about that though. And it would seem so does Lord Ashen.” Macron made an appropriate bow of respect, never taking his eyes off of Muz, Ashia, or Leena. “Please count me in, m’lord. It has been a while, and I could use some excitement.”