The consoles chirped and beeped in the dimly lit corridors of the Dark Ascent. Frankly, it was a droning cacophony that would irritate anyone who loitered too long. For Thane, too long was quite an immediate timeframe.
“What did I miss?” Thane inquired, adding a questioning lift of an eyebrow as his black-set gold eyes glanced towards Idris and Zxyl.
“Miss? Only the enemy trying to open the door to our territories and us SLAMMING IT IN THEIR FACES!” Rajhin interjected without invitation.
Zxyl had glanced over to Rahjin as he finished his sentence, lifting a crossed arm and pointing at the furry man.
“Basically, that. The Children of Mortis invaded on short notice all clan territories. It was chaos.”
Rajhin let out a frustrated huff at “all clan territories” before returning to scrolling through war reports on his datapad.
“Damn it I knew I was forgetting something,” Idris replied before frantically tapping at his datapad. “I just forwarded the message chain. You really didn’t notice the alarms for asteroids? They were huge!”
“I’ve already begun working with the clans on what to do with those, now that we’ve mastered a purification process,” he added to Idris’ message.
Thane stared between them for several moments, not even blinking. Finally, he allowed himself a suspiration. “I had other matters to attend to,” the Justicar stated flatly, despite the dancing lilt of his accent.
“Staring at people in cells?” the Regent asked coyly.
“We will need more cells before our vengeance is sated,” Rajhin hissed.
“That can be arranged. I’ve been eyeing an additional ship to add to the Justicar’s…. repertoire.”
“Cells are only good for the living no point locking away a corpse,” Idris said, pointing finger blasters at the FIST.
An eyebrow raised incredulously at that. “Seems inefficient.” Just end them instead.
“Yes, but the dead cannot divulge their secrets like a prisoner can.”
Just because they’re secrets… “Doesn’t make them worth knowing,” Thane began as a thought and finished out loud, as he often did.
The Togorian reflexively clenched his free hand into a fist as his tail swung back and forth rhythmically. “The only secrets I desire are where I point the Iron Legion at to take that Father’s head.”
Idris nodded approvingly. “Well we know it for certain it isnt the Pendroh system. It has been a ghost town since the attack began. EDI is trying to track the communication relays but it looks like they also used the crystals to send messages.”
Thane sighed. Revenge is great and all, but it’s clouding the message here. “Preventative measures to avoid a repeat?” he asked. Practically a yearly conflict at this point.
“Attack them first. Both the Children and the Collective apparently know where we sleep at night. Short of moving everyone to new places we cannot hide,” Idris replied. EDI flew up behind the Voice. “Each time does better our long range scanners however. We know what the crystals look like now,” her robotic voice intoned.
“Hm…” the Justicar offered.
Rajhin sighed, he was tempted to offer more bravado but knew a solid plan was what the moment required. “We also have volumes of combat data to pour over from every theater, though some of the Consuls were reluctant to give it.”
“They do not trust us, and for good reason. We serve for the Clans, and they serve for us. This feudal system is what makes The Brotherhood a brotherhood. Reliance.”
Thane’s ID10 droid drifted up behind EDI and offered some trills and beeps that sounded vaguely threatening. Beholder, as it was called, clicked its pincers.
HAL was off on one of the edges of the room, not really paying attention to the other droids or the conversation as he ran a dense amount of calculations on what kind of firepower the Brotherhood was going to need to produce if they wanted to take on both the Children of Mortis and Collective forces should both attempt to strike again.
A seemingly standard Ascendant Drone hovered into the room stopping next to Rajhin, “J'zargo has the battle reports the Lord Fist asked for.” The Togorian looked down at his pad as the documents were downloaded from the droid. “Very good.”
“Many shiny artifacts here yes, this one will just take a tiny peek.”
Rajhin shot the droid a glare.
“More could have been done,” Thane stated. Before the non-combatants were harmed.
Despite how impossibly still the Justicar stood, there was a perpetual motion to him as the edges of his robes constantly tore away, dissolving into smoke, and then reforming. It was a small nod to the man’s alchemical endeavors.
Dacien sat, tapping the fingers of his right hand in a slow, deliberate rhythm on the arm of his chair.
“More could have been done, yes. But we needed to draw them out. We needed to find them, to know them.” Dacien looked up and met the Justicar’s glare. “Now that we’ve done that, we can put an end to this.”
Thane had believed the insufferable white noise of the Dark Ascent couldn’t get worse. A foolish belief, it would seem. For there Dacien was adding his own chorus to it. How…annoying.
“In theory,” Thane acquiesced. And yet, no plan survives first contact.
Dacien could feel Thane’s frustration, an undercurrent of dissatisfaction and disbelief. Skepticism was natural and, like the Justicar, it could be managed.
“Darth Nehalem has called our Voice on a mission. The rest of us have our own task before us: hunt down these fanatics and destroy them. That is where we will direct the Inquisitorious and the Clans,” Dacien said, the corner of his lip rising in a subtle smirk. “The Council has more to gain, however. These ‘Children’ have secrets we must uncover; power we must grasp. Signal your agents and call in your favors. Let Nehalem chase his visions. We will keep our eyes on the here and the now.”
Zxyl simply nodded, “There is much to be gained technologically now that we understand how these… ascendant crystals, as they were, work.”
Rajhin stood tall at the Deputy Grand Master’s charge, “The Iron Legion has liaisons working with the Collegium as we speak. We will study their tactics, we will study their weapons and when the time comes we will be ready.”
The Justicar’s lips curled into a silent snarl, his sharp canines glinting in the dim light. “We’ll empty some cells.” Use up the resources we have before bringing in more.
“Arx Capital Exchange stands ready to produce whatever our Brotherhood requires for military might with the recent acquisition of our Telgorn Shipyards. They have proved prudent in taking the load off of Mattock Station, increasing our shipbuilding and maintenance capacity,” Zxyl added, attention shifting ever-so-slightly to his datapad, which was being fed data from HAL off at the side of the room.
EDI zoomed back into the center of the room.
“We’ve allocated thirty-seven percent of accessible processing threads to help analyze the Children’s attack patterns and crystal usage. A further twelve percent are solely dedicated incoming data streams regarding their positioning and history,” the droid buzz contently.
“It would be more but Idris has claimed a large percentage dedicated to scanning for news about himself,” EDI continued. The room fell silent.
“That is a joke,” she added.
It’s not a joke, Thane mused to himself. The Firrerreo allowed the edge of his lips to pull back into a smirk.
Dacien turned to the Voice, head tilted, and stared for two beats. “Thank you, EDI. Have we been able to track any of their ships leaving the clan systems?”
“The ones we didn’t destroy limped back to Pendroh, Lodisa, and Urikoth. We noticed some unusual energy signatures from each system shortly after. It matches what happened in the clans’ systems. They’ve found a way to move outside of this plane,” Idris said eyes locked with the Deputy to the Grand Master’s.
Darth Nehalem loudly opened a door on the far end of the corridor to a loud crash as the needlessly heavy durasteel door swung all the way open. A pointless design feature approved by one of his one of his predecessors to the Iron Throne found all over the Dark Ascent but a suitable enough way to announce yourself.
“They, they, they,” the Grand Master mused, “They are predictable enough and foolishly wear their ambitions. They won’t elude us for long.” He paused for a moment before continuing, a hint of paranoia on his voice speaking almost to himself, “Telaris however. Is he working with them? Using them? … Dare any of you?”
“I certainly hope none of us are naive enough to attempt to support a group that would turn us all into crystals or undead monstrosities. The former Grand Master however…” Idris trailed off.
“Desperation is a powerful motivator. I once saw a man turn his own child in to a Hutt Cartel just to avoid a life debt for himself. We are sweeping the galaxy, my lord. If Telaris is out there to be found, we will find him Children or not,” Idris chose his words carefully.
And pray he isn’t using you either. He thought to himself.
“That would be some bad juju… I will reach out to my fellow Taldrya, see if any have heard from him. In fact,” he trailed off as he pulled his Pomojema Shard from his pocket, “I will try to locate him here in the Arx System first. If he’s near, the shard will aid me.”
“They’re idiots,” Thane bluntly stated regarding the Children of Mortis. No further thoughts existed on the matter, as if those two words were all the explanation needed. They proved that he had no interest in working with them whilst simultaneously casting just enough shade to demonstrate his opinion on the matter.
“Idiots always find some absurd way to die, and if not themselves they help death find those they follow,” Nehalem responded towards Thane as a reminder not to underestimate idiots, “…and only an idiot would follow Telaris.”
His last words betrayed his attempts to mask his paranoia and came out as a threat. Not directed towards any specific Dark Councilor but the words weighed heavy on the Sith Lord as struggled to contain his own emotions. He knew deep down that pursuing Mav, wherever he went, was foolish and more than likely exactly what his former Master wanted. Yet he felt powerless in his own body from relentlessly pursuing him.
Thane turned his attention away, his interest waning to the point that his energy would be better spent elsewhere. With casual ease, the Justicar reached for a glass of dark, amber liquid. The glass slid to meet his grasp as if guided by an unseen hand.
As he took his first sip, the warmth scorched its way down his throat and he welcomed it as it spread out from his chest. The brandy was definitely worth his attention.
Zxyl nodded in agreement with the statements made from the Justicar and Grand Master. The Children of Mortis were idiots, and had no idea what kind of fury would be unleashed upon them. You could strike the clans individually, sure, but in the end, all of them will push back.
Not being a space wizard like everyone else in the room save for his fellow Mando'ade Idris, the Dathomirian was forced to actually reach for his crystalline glass with physical effort. Wrapping his left, gauntleted hand around it he was careful not to damage the fine tableware as he lifted it to his lips and took a much larger drink from his choice ale than the Justicar had of his own fluid.
Given the conflict had only just reached its conclusion and the group were unaware if Arx herself would be a surprise target, the Regent of the Brotherhood had attended the meeting in full combat garb, his self-forged beskar armor that had recently been reworked to provide a more… legends of Mandalores past aesthetic to it. After a confrontation on one of Taldryan’s moons orbiting Perune recently had seen his helmet removed, Bes'uliik was very slowly coming around to the idea of removing his helmet more often. It sat on the table in front of him, T-shaped visor pointed away from him.
Rajhin huffed and returned to reviewing war reports while pacing. Idiots wouldn’t have done this level of damage across the entire Brotherhood but he did not feel the need to make that observation to his collogues. The Togorian began unconsciously pacing away from the others as he read with J'zargo dutifully hovering behind. The droid turned its photoreceptors toward the Justicar and Regent making a few calculations within nanoseconds.
“It has been a long week yes? Reports will still be here if this one takes a teeny break with friends. Let the lady admiral handle things for a while, you come back with mind sharp as your claws.”
The Fist glared at his droid assistant for a moment before his demeanor dropped in reservation. He was an experienced enough commander to know that the battle was over for now and pushing himself further was both unnecessary and potentially costly if he made mistakes.
“Very well, I shall review these in the ‘morrow. The Grand Admiral knows where to find me.” Rajhin paused, “stay away from the vault level or I’ll have Zxyl turn your chassis into armor.”
The droid shook as the Togorian all but growled that last command. “Your words sting, J'zargo is but a humble servant yes.”
Rajhin awkwardly slid into the noticeably Togorian-friendly chair he had installed in the Council chambers.
Sounds like everyone knows what they’re going to be doing. As for Taelyan… Thane allowed his thoughts to drift off, though he affixed “Darth Nehalem” with a side-long glance and a raised eyebrow.
“Concerning,” the Justicar muttered, producing a barely audible sound. It wasn’t clear precisely to whom it was directed, if perchance it was overheard, but with the timing it could’ve been directed at Rajhin’s droid for all anyone knew.
Zxyl quickly replaced his drink with another, the long task of assisting the clans with whatever rebuilding or manufacturing they required evidently looming over him.
“Did you say something?” he directed towards Thane.
The man grunted in response, not particularly interested in repeating himself.
Alright then. I guess not!
The Regent finished his next drink in due time, a bit of a buzz beginning to gnaw at the edges of his pysche. Was this debrief about to turn into an Evantual party?! He had no idea, but the stressors of having to build up the necessary vessels for The Council’s own response to the assault conducted by the Children of Mortis against each of the clans was about to be done away with - using good ol’ intoxication.
Relaxation was as important as vigilance. Everyone had been on edge during the recent skirmishes. Well, Thane hadn’t been. He’d have to have known about them to give them any mind at all.
He wasn’t a fool, though. The Justicar knew better than to pass up an opportunity. “Best we take a chance for food and drink,” he suggested. A reset for our bodies and minds.
Rajhin’s stomach rumbled at the Justicar’s words, he had been going almost non-stop for several days. While the Iron Fleet and the Clans were bloodied, they were not beaten and they had driven the enemy out of their territory. It was still a victory, even if a costly one, and victories needed to be celebrated. With a few swift taps on his datapad he had directed J'zargo to have some proper mead and food brought to the council chamber.
“Wise words, we should get a brief respite for our bodies and our minds so we can return to the long fight ahead refreshed.”
Idris stood behind the FIST with his head cocked to the side, brown eyes expertly analyzing the seated form of the Togorian before him.
“Is that… really the best we can do for a chair for you? I know sitting isn’t a natural state for you these days but you are radiating discomfort just sitting there,” he asked while transitioning to a squat to examine the seat further.
“And what would it look like if your legs bent the other way?” the Voice muttered to himself. Comfort was important after all. There was nothing like a good unwind after a deadly fight.
Dacien regarded his fellow Councillors with a subtle smirk and leaned back in his chair. We’ve won some respite. There’s plenty of time to worry about what comes next. The Deputy Grand Master flicked open his communicator and keyed in his assistant’s channel. “Bring us a chair fit for a Togorian before Idris had an aneurysm.”
“Too late,” came Thane’s snark. He grinned just a little as his black-gold eyes watched the others.
Idris stood and pointed at the Justicar’s face. “There, right there, twitch of a smile. I saw it. We all saw it.”
“I didn’t see it,” Dacien said, frowning. “We have enough to worry about. Don’t spread alarm.”
“Nearly a stage one emergency, and so close to the enemy invasion!” Idris gasped. “I was promised at least some respite before diving back into the thick of it.”
“I have literally never seen Thane smile. Ever. I don’t think he even has the muscle memory for it!” called Zxyl, leaning back in his chair. A moment later, one of The Council’s many many lackies had produced a suitable seat for the feline Councillor to plant his buttocks on, taking away the other in a hurry.
After slamming back another drink, Zxyl went to place the glass down on the table using his gauntleted left hand… But applied just a wee bit too much force on contact. The crystalline glass cracked and broke apart into several pieces, spilling the few remaining drops of his drink on the finely crafted table made of… Obsidian! Yes, the table was made of a hardened obsidian, because that would be badass and stylish.
“Oh, Sithspit.” he quietly hissed, using that same gauntleted hand to carefully push the broken glass into his cloak… Which he would later shake onto the floor when the party picked up. At this point the Dathomiri Mandalorian had zero class.
Thane, ever the introvert, savoured his drink and not much else. Part of him was merely thankful that any celebration couldn’t possibly escalate just yet.
He had heard tales of Evant taking off his shirt and spinning it like some sort of helicopter above him. The mental image almost made him shudder.
The Justicar sighed and tilted his head, making a beckoning motion towards Zxyl.
“Ship options,” he stated with a lilt. To replace or upgrade the dungeon ship, he left unsaid.
Zxyl scowled for a brief moment, taking it as if he was being beckoned like the Justicar’s canine. Which he was not. He was the Regent of the Brotherhood.
“For you? Tired of that hulking dumpster?” he smirked, pulling up several tabs on his datapad of various large prison-suitable ships before sliding it across the table to the Elder.
“A slightly older, but ready to retrofit Venator II-class currently in dry dock is probably the best option. Lots of room to turn it’s many hangars into cells, and should a full revolt happen? Pop open that bay, and goodbye baddies. We also have a line on a Gladiator-class; smaller, but more agile. Finally, a Tector-class; well defended, and no hangars so a break out is a lot harder than just busting out and stealing a fighter. Whatever your preference, The Exchange is ready to personalize the chosen vessel to the Justicar’s unique needs. If none of those suit your fancy, a tailored vessel could be produced. The Exchange recently produced a fancy-ass modified Vindicator-class Cruiser for the Aurora Collegium.”
J'zargo returned with a protocol droid carrying a tray with Rajhin’s requested mead and meat. The Togorian made no attempt at subtlety or human table manners as he took a massive bite from the prepared slab of bantha steak. He kept his eyes on the conversation unfolding between the Regent and Justicar as he washed down his food.
“FRIENDS,” the Fist boomed at a natural pause in the conversation to direct attention his way, “that is work talk. Come rest your minds and celebrate our hard-won victory with me.”
The Togorian raised his mug briefly in a gesture of welcome.
“Hmm,” Thane grunted. ‘Friend’ is a strong word.
“A forge would be useful. For research and production using the captives as resources,” the Justicar explained to Zxyl. He turned his attention back to the Fist and grabbed some steak of his own. After all, the Firrerreo needed to take in monstrous amounts of protein to support his body’s natural healing rate and metabolism.
“Ah, yes… A forge. That’s perfect. I will prepare something,” the Dathomiri thought aloud - not even realizing it - before digging into the hearty meat and drinks the protocol droid had brought the group.
As everyone was digging in, cutlery lightly clinking against their plates, Zxyl took the opportunity to lightly shake that broken glass from his cloak onto the floor nonchalantly. No doubt the others would still notice, but he didn’t care.