Training Honor Bound (Supplemental Training of Apprentice Sharkish’ki)

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Kamino - Upper Levels of Abandoned Cloning Facility

“Nice. It lit you up like a Coruscant cantina,” EV-A4-D mutters as Grievance Vexx trudges past him, twitching slightly with the residual electricity crackling over his body, “I have your pain meds if you need them, but I’m not touching you until you’re finished being a lightning rod. My circuitry is far too valuable to take punishment from your carelessness.”

“I am fine!” Vexx snaps, not keen on the idea of a dose of meds in this strange place where he cannot afford to have his reaction time altered, “With any good fortune, we will be pulling out shortly. Now be quiet! I am trying to listen.”

Of course, his listening is more in-tuned to the murmurings of the Force rather than physical sound as he tries to gather intel on Sharkish’ki. He can sense his apprentice far beneath the waves, still alive, still in motion. He is relieved as he surely did not bring the aspiring Death Warrior here to die, but rather to accomplish a mission with success. Dying would obviously not have anything to do with accomplishing that particular goal.

“Master, I believe I have found what we came here for...”

The sound of his apprentice’s voice crackling over his comlink gives the Krigsbefallaf further reason to be relieved. Sharkish’ki sounds like he is no worse for the wear and if he has in fact found the holocron, he has done so without the help of the Force.

“Excellent,” he replies, “Depending on what you faced or angered on your way down there, you might not wish to return the same way you went in, but the sooner you can return to me, the bett—raaaaaagghh!”

The transmission dies amid the agonized roar of the Krigsbefallaf as the starweird has found its way after him and delivers another generous amount of Force-lightning; enough to lower the cybernetic Sith Lord to his knees. Vexx thrusts our another telekinetic wave, blasting the starweird back through the doorway from whence it came and A4-D is quick to strike the control panel that activates the blast doors, closing them immediately after the starweird goes sailing through.

“Since when has good fortune ever found its way into your life, Master?” the droid huffs.

Vexx ignores the mechanical medic and storms out of the facility; out onto the landing platform. He really doesn’t fancy another go-around with that freakish thing that somehow got trapped here. It is still pouring rain outside, but that is commonplace on Kamino. He walks to the edge of the platform and looks down into the black waters below, knowing Sharkish’ki is somewhere down there.

And he has the holocron.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki, @Reiis Invadator

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC: Sharkish’Ki
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility: Lower Levels

The room grew dark in Sharkish’Ki’s periphery, as if making physical contact with the holocron further empowered the ancient device’s ability to consume energy. Or was it feeding off him directly? It was cold to the touch, and yet warm, like the icy water around his feet that sought to invite death’s cold embrace. It wasn’t nearly as heavy as it looked, it’s fragility camouflaged by precise edges and Sith magics. Grasping the tetrahedral device securely and yet tenderly in the palm of his hand, he studied the runes that glimmered upon its surface. He had no idea what they meant or the power they contained, although there was familiarity in their form and combination.

Without warning, Sharkish’Ki was thrust back into reality, as the room shook with the force of a speeding cloud car, sending equipment flying, and splashing him with frigid, salty water. He squinted his eyes closed, throwing up his other elbow to shield himself from more of the disturbed water, as he was forced off balance, falling onto the support of the bench in front of him. Whilst enthralled by the strange and alien device, he hadn’t noticed his large amphibious predator had been watching him through the opening in the doorway.

The creature’s maw had clamped around the passageway he’d not long since traversed. Water breached through the puncture points, as small shards of glass exploded inwards with the pressure. Primal force welled within the creature as it trust its claws toward the walls of the walkway, fighting with the steel-like structure to free its teeth and tear away from its trapped meal. Water poured through the gaps in pressurised torrents, forming jets that threatened to slice anything soft. Sharkish’Ki had mere moments to decide his next move, as he slipped the now quiet holocron into the empty pouch at his waist and sealed it closed. “Master!” He shouted, trying to hear himself over the hissing water. His concern was a surprise to himself, as it may well be to the Krigsbefallaf. “I’m making my way back topside!” The structure lurched again as he braced himself against the operating table, his eyes fixed on the event ahead. “And I may not be arriving alone!”

He was penned in. Perhaps that was the creature’s tactic all along; perhaps it was just a clever opportunist. The room he was in was nothing more than four walls. One way in, one way out, and water was rapidly filling the available space, ticking down the time he had to make his escape. Pacience was not an option, as he pulled his feet through the rapidly collecting liquid, almost scrabbling for surfaces on which to enhance the effectiveness of his advance. The pressure in his head seemed to have subsided, only to be replaced by the roar from the jets of water.

The room shook again from the heavy thumping of the creature’s claws on the walkway, and the yanking of its massive frame. The stress on the struts that aided in its suspension would’ve been audible, had the noise of the water not been so immediate. Sharkish’Ki stumbled face first into the water as he grasped at the doorway to pull himself forwards. Sharp pain hit his face as the water sought to draw the heat from his exposed skin. The red lights of his rebreather flickered briefly, as if the enclosed unit knew the peril they both faced if they delayed further. The door of the chamber creaked as Sharkish’Ki pulled his weight towards it in an attempt to regain his footing, before tumbling himself through the opening, dragging his half-sodden cloak with him.

The lighting around him flickered as he splashed into the water on the other side, bringing the colossal creature’s own patches of luminous flesh into view, as Sharkish’Ki came to the stark realisation of its gargantuan size. The teeth, as long as his legs, were stuck halfway through the glasswork, and were almost glasslike themselves; opaque, and sharp as a Sith sword, and yet glossy and dark. He thrust himself off of the semi-closed door, making a dash down the corridor before him, as the structure shuddered from the creature’s panicked efforts to free itself. “It’s just you and me down here… and I’m not about to be your dinner!” He muttered to the creature as he reached out to grasp the nearest saber-like fang. He felt the creature’s strength through the vibrations of it’s struggle, and dug into his own, responding with an iron-like grip to steady himself through the water, whilst ducking under the invasive jets that could cut indiscriminately.

How long could this glass hold, he wondered, let alone the walkway and it’s supports. Gotta move faster…

Without hesitation he reached for another fang, scratching the leather bracer on a shorter tooth as he pulled his hood up to shield his vision from the spraying water. Palming off the maw of the creature gave him a sense of relief, as he looked back briefly to see the teeth wriggling a little more than he’d liked, and more water forcing in through the available space.

Now if I could just seal this passage, he pondered as he hastily trudged through the shin-high water to the open doorway ahead, swaying with each wide step in an attempt to keep his balance.

There was a loud crash, as if a shuttle had just impacted the ground, followed by the swoosh of air as the water punched through the glasswork, instantly filling outward, as Sharkish’Ki was sent flying through the doorway. He may have lost the use of the Force, but his reactions were still sharp, as he grasped for the railings to the side of the doorway, pulling himself out of the flood’s path and against the frame of the door. The wall of water to his side was phenomenal, and filling the room at an alarming rate; he’d soon find himself underwater if he couldn’t get this door closed.

He fumbled for a panel in the cold of the water.
Why’d everything Kaminoan have be so sleek and featureless, he cursed with frustration. He’d have to look. He took a breath. His heart was pounding. It wasn’t so much the idea of drowning that bothered him. His rebreather was capable of acting as gills, should the seal hold fast to his face. It was the pressure and extreme cold that terrified him the most. He could no longer feel his feet, and the headache had returned full of vengeance, threatening to burst his eardrums and worse. He took another breath and plunged under the rising surface, looking for anything that would indicate an emergency seal. The black panelled wall surrounded several flashing red symbols, much like the ones he’d seen before. Sharkish’Ki pressed each one, holding onto the railing, save the growing current sweep him away and into uncertainty.

Finally, a green light, as Sharkish’Ki burst back to the surface for a breath. And not a moment too soon after, the doors began to slice their way through the torrent of water, quietening the flood into a pressurised stream, and finally jets, before silencing the elemental onslaught in it’s entirety.

This place could’ve been his tomb, and with that creature attacking in that manner, it still could be. He let go of the railing and let the slowing current carry him down the other passageway. As fortune would have it, this one had no glass, that he could see, as he bobbed along not two meters from the ceiling height, his cloak dragging in the wake behind him.

“My Lord… Wh-wh-why would the Kaminoans… have a Si-si-sith holocron?” He chattered, his jaw shivering from the bitter cold of the river he was floating in. Fate was deciding his path, at this point, although he was on the lookout for turboshafts, as the water felt like it was receding; the ceiling distance grew as the distance continued, periodically kicking himself off of walkway arches to make use of the speedier mode of transport. Tunnels and water was all he could see. Salt was all he could smell. Cold was all he felt. He’d just have to get warm again later; he was made of hardier stuff.

He was Sith.


OOC: My apologies for the delay. My partner has finally finished moving house! Also, I’m not sure how much you want to be involved in this scene, so it’s open to you.

TAG: @Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Kamino - Landing Platform, Upper Levels

Vexx genuinely becomes alarmed as Sharkish’ki’s voice comes through his comlink, sounding gravely worried amid background noise that the Krigsbefallaf easily identifies as rushing water. He instinctively wants to assist, his old ways as a soldier still deeply imbedded in his immediate response. Leave no man behind; he never believed in trampling the weak or hurdling the dead—not without pausing to see if there was hope for an alternative anyway.

But this is different. This is akin to a young warrior proving what he’s made of without help. He must refrain, no matter how precious the life of a comrade may be. He will not be a hindrance to Sharkish’ki’s ability to be formidable all on his own. The only thing Vexx does at this point is extend himself in the Force to learn what his apprentice is faced with beneath the waves of the gloomy and foreboding Kaminoan sea.

He can sense the cold of the murky depths; the thin wisps of fear emanating from Sharkish’ki; the hunger of something very large, primal, and ancient. He can also sense the pull of the holocron, begging to be unlocked. He has no doubt that, even with the Force severed from his use at the moment, Sharkish’ki can feel the faintest vibrations of its call. Good. It is a potent one then, still containing secrets no one before them had managed to steal.

“If you are bringing home any pets, you had better make certain it will be nice to the General,” he replies as Sharkish’ki announces that he is making his way back, “She and Grog got off to a bad start and she has yet to forgive him for his innocent mistake.”

The rain begins to fall harder—as if that were even possible—thundering on the roofs and cascading over the eves in torrents that would put the grandest waterfall to shame. Vexx shields himself with an upraised cloak-draped arm as the wind kicks up the waves and they break savagely against the skinny shafts that hold the streamlined domes above the water’s churning surface with all the slender grace of a Kaminoan’s neck. Even now, the abandoned structure shudders under the assault and the Krigsbefallaf feels every bit of it through his alchemized armor. The starweird, still trapped inside one of the control rooms, lets out another blood-curdling scream that seems to compound the haunted presence this place is beginning to radiate.

“They may have never had it directly in their possession,” he says in answer to Sharkish’ki’s question, “Though it is uncertain, it is possible a Sith who came before us stashed it here. This place has obviously been abandoned since at least the era of Order 66. It may have been placed by the hand of Darth Sidious himself for all we know.”

Meanwhile, the impatient and hungry monster of the deep at last manages to extricate itself from having its jaws clamped on the transparisteel tunnel. Sharkish’ki will feel a tremor like an earthquake rattling in the tunnel through which he is wading as the creature pulls a chunk of the tunnel it had been affixed to away with it. Alarms begin to blare in disorienting loudness as water now thunders against the blast door the apprentice had managed to seal behind him as the monster is on the move again, trying to figure out where its prey has gotten to.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki, @Reiis Invadator

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC: Sharkish’Ki
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility: Lower Levels

Sharkish’Ki searched with his eyes and his thoughts, momentarily forgetting he no longer has use of the Force, and yet while he was trying to remain objective, he couldn’t shrug the feeling of paranoia. Is that you in my head, Lord Vexx? He pondered, as he chose yet another pathway to paddle down. It began to feel like he was circling back around, as his internal compass and well developed sense of direction took hold. The years of traversing the Tarisian Undercity had taught him valuable lessons.

His master’s voice came through with the tinny sound of pinging rain. Sharkish’Ki was almost amused that the Kaleeshi was getting as wet as he was; a feeling that was swept away by pride, that his master could weather such storms where any mere human would seek shelter. It was this pride that drove Sharkish’Ki to succeed. He chuckled briefly at his master’s comments, wondering what exactly Grog might’ve done to receive the General’s disdain, and then equally her respect.

The distracting muse was short lived, as his mind shattered once again from the psyche-piercing impact of the Starweird’s scream; the accompanying pain of which, was akin to the mightiest of blows to the top of his head. He thought of the monstrous wookie he’d once fought in the pits, and how the pipe it’d brandished with such animalistic ferocity, had nearly caved his skull in; all the while he could picture the screaming face of the deathly Force-hunter. He lost his buoyancy, as he instinctively grappled his head, curling his body into the meagre safety of the foetal position, and squeezing his eyelids shut, as if blocking the light would remedy the attack. He screamed agony into his rebreather, the sound muffled by the surrounding water. He wanted to rip the mask from his face, for the love of fresh air, and yet doing so would mean him choking on the salinated liquid, as he slumped helplessly beneath it’s surface. The smell was intense enough, and the taste would likely make him violently sick.

Just as before, as quickly as it came, it stopped, providing him much needed solace. Sharkish’Ki dropped his feet, planting his boots firmly on the deck under the semi-stationary body of water. Uprighting himself, he gave himself a moment’s composure before he began wading, only to be shoved violently to his side as the passageway lurched, sloshing the water up the side of the walkway, and further drenching the apprentice. The ocean muffled the unnerving screech of twisting metal, as the shades of black and white Kaminoan architecture were now bathed in the red of emergency lighting, instantly casting darker shadows amongst the ripples on the water.
“Well, I guess that thing’s free’d itself! Hunger certainly drives persistence,” he grumbled, thinking about his own level of persistence whilst bracing himself against the wall as the water refreshed the drying salts on his angered brow.
“If this was dry land, you’d have been under my heel by now, beast!” He grumbled, as he pushed himself on to once again trudge his way through the slowly receding water. The passageway felt twisted; what was once a level, now felt like he was walking uphill, which could mean only one thing: the integrity of the supports for the section behind him had been compromised. He pushed on, his eyes locking onto the doors ahead that looked like turboshafts. The alarms had opened a lot of the doors, in anticipation of those desperate to make their escape. Sharkish’Ki was certainly grateful for the failsafe.

The water’s edge was in sight as he picked up the pace, no longer concerned about the noise his splashing was going to make. The sound of his footfalls hid the squelching that was happening between his sodden toes, as he trusted the grip of his boots. Reaching the edge of the doorway, he breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared to be an emergency turboshaft, and yet the cab was missing. He braced himself on the edge as he stared down into what seemed to be a good fifty meter drop into water, and then looked up to see roughly the same distance, with what looked to be openings on each floor, every fifteen meters or so. He couldn’t tell if the cab was above him or not. Looking around the wide shaft he saw two ladders on either side of the door. He stepped back and, looking down the passageway, he made his decision. He took a great bunch of his cloak and twisted it in his hands, ringing out a great stream of water like a soaked towel. The last thing he needed was to slip on the water from his clothes. There was no sense in staying on this level, that could give way at any moment. The fabric fell where it would, and he stepped on, taking a firm hold of the ladder and swinging himself onto the first rung of many to begin the climb.

His eyes were fixed on the next level’s exit. His swaying cloak was still heavy. The holocron seemed to hum and vibrate, secure in its pouch. His lightsaber tapped against his thigh, and his boots clanged on the steel bars as he set a steady pace.
“I don’t know where I’m gonna come out to, my Lord, but I’m making a climb for the upper levels. The holocron’s still with me, and I imagine so is our hungry beast!” He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong.


TAG: @Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility, Upper Levels

As Vexx seriously contemplates how to go about knocking a starweird’s screaming head from its shoulders, his thoughts return to center on Sharkish’ki as he announces over the comlink that he is making his way back topside. The Krigsbefallaf can imagine how easy it would be to get disoriented in this place. Everything looks the same. As a cloning facility, it seems everything was cloned here, not just disposable foot soldiers created to take punishment in the Jedi’s stead.

Naturally, without the Force, his apprentice has no way of knowing where he will emerge for certain, but Vexx can figure this out ahead of time. Still standing out in the unforgiving rain and wind and salty waves breaking against the landing platform, the Dark Lord extends himself in the Force, quickly finding Sharkish’ki still moving several feet beneath the murky waters. He can also detect the life force of Sharkish’ki’s unwanted friend, circling up and down the outside of the turboshaft, obviously seeking the two-legged intruder it is certain will make a tasty snack.

But there is something more; something dangerous and also of the life-threatening type. A rumbling somewhere deep within the shaft...the Force tells Vexx that this shaft is not an entirely dead one.

“Stay alert, Apprentice,” he warns him through their comlink connection, “There is mechanical activity beneath you in the shaft. If it is what I think it is, this could be either an advantage or a disadvantage to you. That all depends on how quickly you can act apart from the Force.”

Indeed, for whatever reason, there is an elevator coming to life in the bowels of the turboshaft. Perhaps it was activated by switches thrown in the control rooms or maybe alarms triggered by the sea monster’s attack had tripped a reaction or maybe...maybe this abandoned facility really is more haunted than it appears. But these are things to be riddled out later. For now, there is a Death Apprentice whose life may be in the path of an unstoppable machine operating on seemingly its own volition.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki, @Reiis Invadator

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC: Sharkish’Ki
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility: Lower Levels

Sharkish’Ki’s comm crackled in response, as he placed hand over hand, foot over foot up the ladder, his breath in unison, and his gaze levelled to keep his balance. Cardio came naturally to him, as he was rarely lazy. More often than not, that burning lactic acid ran through his veins as much as the Force did, and his mind powered victoriously over the both of them. Oh, how he missed the latter, though, as the warning began to play a little on his mind.

He slowed his pace before coming to a stop for a moment, as he decided to sate his curiosity and peer downward. Hooking an arm over a rung, and gripping the side tightly with his other, he looked to his side, down into the depths below. The bottom was too far to make a discernible conclusion. There was something he couldn’t place. A tingling in the crux of his elbow that his gripped hand was translating this into a vibration, and this was not his nerves. He peered a little longer, trying to decide if the tiny circular water level was growing, or not, whilst the tingling began to feel like buzzing. Ok, time to move, he thought. Anxiousness began to commingle with his objectivity, making him feel a little uneasy. Instinctively, he began to move up again. There was no sense in waiting to determine inevitability. If the turbolift was indeed active, there was no telling how fast or how far the pod would travel. He looked upwards at the opening, similar to the one he’d entered. Just a few more rungs, and he would be at the next level, he thought. He could regroup there. The rumbling was gradually becoming a whooshing. He could feel the air cooling around him, and he swallowed, his ears popping from the change in air pressure. Sharkish’Ki dared to look down and was met with the frothing tempest rapidly approaching his feet. Something must’ve given way, for this water to be coming up with it.
“Kriff!” Sharkish’Ki muttered, half amused and half terrified that he was potentially about to become iced human soup. Okay, there’s gotta be service worker safety, or something! His heart and mind raced, teetering on panic as he stopped to consider his options, not two meters away from the next level. He gripped the rung as tightly as he could, feeling the strain in his forearms as if he were trying to pry the bars apart, and pressed his body as close to the ladder as his frame would allow. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes tight.

Then the water hit him like the freight cart he expected it to feel like. Seconds passed that felt like minutes, as the pod plunged him into disorientating darkness. The roar of the capsule racing mere centimetres from him was deafening, as the water pressured against his eardrums, threatening to bust them through sheer force. The water had forced his body upwards, and his head hit the rung above, adding throbbing injury to the insult of the thing coming to life. His arms and chest began to burn under the constraint his mind had put them on to hold him in place. He would have to let go at the right time if he was to survive this, and when that was… he’d have to try his luck!
The pod had passed him, at last, and the water was still speeding by, dragging his cape and hood with it. Millions beyond millions of air bubbles frothed the water around him as he craned his head back, trying to plot his trajectory, praying he’d be flushed out, and not dragged further up. It was now or never. He tucked both his legs up to his chest, forcing his boots into the crux of the ladder rung so as not to slip. Poised like a coiled Tarisian tree viper, he.
Three…
Two…
One!
He let go, and put all his might into his quads, springing away from the ladder, scrabbling with his arms against the will of the icy liquid. The water did the rest, as he tumbled over the edge as the water billowed and rolled him down the corridor, like a leaf on a breeze, knocking him into the struts and panels of the structure. Every impact bruised and pummelled him, reminding him of the training sessions he’d endured as a child protege.

Surely as before, the water began to subside, as it sought out its paths of least resistance, and soon enough he was sliding down a curving corridor, carried by the quietening current. He gasped for air, coughing and spluttering as he fought against the water and his own garments to right himself. Capes and cloaks were all well and good for adding mystery and concealment, but by Krayt himself, they were troublesome, he thought as he coasted down the corridor like debris after a storm, the hood of said cloak stuck to his forehead like a discarded pancake; and a bloody one at that, as the warm trickle ran down his brow and across his temple. It was nice to smell the coppery sanguine ichor over the odorous Kaminoan ocean that seemed to be trying so desperately hard to kill him. His breathing calmed as he put his hand to his side, feeling for the pouch containing their prize, and to his relief the item had remained secured behind the fastenings. At least he would leave successfully. He lay back, turning in the current as the water slowed. Windows now lined the corridors, providing just enough of a view of Kamino’s tempestuous nature.
“My Lord, I think I’m nearby.” He chattered with relief, even though the passages and doors and windows all looked the same.
“There’s a door coming up that looks very similar to where we entered.” He could see rain still pelting the shell of the complex, and for a second he thought he could see his master’s craft. He was now skidding down the corridor backwards. He’d given up fighting to get on his feet, opting to conserve his energy, and catch his breath. The biting cold had penetrated his very core, and it was his will alone that seemed to hold sway over his pulse. He sat up, and with one last thud his back hit the panelling next to the doorway, the current now low and slow enough to deposit him on the icy flooring. He reached upwards to slap at the panel in a lazy attempt to open whatever section would come next, and to his delight, it obeyed.

The door calmly and swiftly slid aside, the aperture widening like an alien iris sensitive to light. The remaining water that had gathered around him, flooded out, it’s flow disrupted by the bullet-like droplets of rain, and the familiar, bird-like talons of his master’s cybernetic fame.
Sharkish’Ki groped at the pouch that had been slung under his arm for who knows how long he’d been down there, and passed it up to his Lord, all the while his eyes fixed on the tetrahedral shape within - that was until Lord Vexx’s bright orange eyes came into view, peering down into him just as deeply as the cold that burnt.


Tag: @Grievance Vexx @Reiis Invadator

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility, Upper Levels

Though his concern for his apprentice grows as more time passes, the Krigsbefallaf remains calm. Deep down, he knows his faith in Sharkish’ki is not misplaced. The Cruor warrior will return and he will return with what he was sent to retrieve.

The starweird is still contained in the control room...for now. However, Vexx can sense its frustration as it flits about the room, throwing itself against the walls and doors like a bird trapped inside a glass building. He doesn’t pay it much mind. He is more concerned with Sharkish’ki making it back alive. As the Death Apprentice alerts him that he may be getting close to finally escaping the turbolift chutes, the Kaleesh warlord stretches himself out in the Force, looking for Sharkish’ki’s presence.

“Indeed, you are close, Apprentice,” he reassures him, sensing him only a few meters below, “But do not breathe easy yet. Until you are back up here, consider yourself in danger and be swift in what remains of your journey.”

At last, Sharkish’ki surfaces, washing out with a tidal wave of water like a man shipwrecked and adrift at sea. Indeed, he looks as though he has been put through the wringer. Then again, with how wet he is, perhaps he would do well to be put through an actual wringer just to help dry him out. Vexx’s eyes follow the pouch containing the holocron as Sharkish’ki presents it to him.

“You hold onto it for now,” the cyborg grumbles, firmly pushing Sharkish’ki’s hand and the pouch it clutches back toward him, “And hold still.”

Without warning, Vexx withdraws his Force Sever, opening the floodgates for Sharkish’ki’s power to flow back into him, but it will be no gentle process. The sensation of his power returning will feel like a battering ram, much in the same way his body was pummeled by the water and the turbolift only moments prior. Everything will heighten to an almost unbearable rate as the Force rushes to fill the empty canyons of Sharkish’ki’s soul.

When Sharkish’ki recovers from the onslaught of his powers returning, the next thing he will become aware of is the holocron in his hand. Sensing his power, the artifact begins to glow through the pouch, calling to him, imploring him to unlock it and reveal its secrets. Vexx can sense this as well, but the call is not for him. It is as though the knowledge it contains is predestined to belong to his apprentice.

Unfortunately, now is not the best time to oblige the holocron’s pleas. The starweird, further aggravated by the presence of yet another Force user on the scene, finally bursts out of its control room prison. With a blood-curdling shriek of purest fury, it comes straight out to where master and apprentice have regrouped on the old landing platform.

“I rescind what I said earlier about breathing easy once you are back up here, Apprentice,” Vexx mutters, drawing his lightsaber with a venomous snap-hiss, “I would refrain from breathing easy until we are off this cursed planet.”

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki, @Reiis Invadator

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC- Sharkish’Ki

Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility, Upper Levels

Sharkish’Ki feebly tried to resist his master’s gesture to keep the item he’d battled the depths of the facility to keep a hold of. It felt like the burden of the holocron was too much for him to claim it as a prize. Gazing into the yellow of the Kaleeshi warrior, he could feel the sincerity, as Sharkish’Ki took the item into his slouched midriff. He slumped his head into his chest, closing his eyes as his core temperature fought an atomic battle with the cold of the wind on his soaked attire. If we never see Kamino again, it would be too soon, he thought.

Not a moment after Lord Vexx had released his uncharacteristically gentle grasp of the sodden pouch, did Sharkish’Ki experience a feeling he’d never known. It was like returning sight to the blind, as sensations heightened. The rain rang like falling plasteel bells, each droplet pinging and clanging as it punched its way back into their collective, creating ripples upon ripples that teemed with energy. Slowly, he raised his hands to his ears, wishing the thunderous sounds away as he closed his eyes. The connection extended beyond rain, as the ripples lapped over the talons of his master’s infinitely complex chassis. He felt the synthetic synapses firing between the components, as Sharkish’Ki’s connection to the Force strengthened and the Dark Lord’s presence became almost overbearing.

The holocron also began to impart its own call upon him, recapturing Sharkish’Ki’s attention like the primal calling of a precious gem, yet he hadn’t the strength of focus to answer it with anything more than awe and intrigue.

Then the shriek ripped through Sharkish’Ki harder still, making him grit his teeth and groan in pain as he gripped his skull. Had he been a weaker man, he may have driven the durasteel of his claw into his head, to scratch out the sound that burrowed into his psyche. The piercing sound subsided as he focussed upon it, thinking back to his previous lesson, and how he disrupted his master’s apparition.

The warrior’s lightsaber activation stirred Sharkish’Ki as he scrabbled to get to his feet, graciously assisted by a mechanical claw of the Dark Lord, as he grasped the hood and collar of his apprentice, nearly dragging the hefty human to his feet without a second thought. As he regained his footing, they retreated away from the doorway and out into the persistent rain, his heavy, metallic footfalls drowning out Sharkish’Ki’s waterlogged trudging.

The Starweird had persisted as much, too, as it floated effortlessly before them, forcing them into their back foot.
Sharkish’Ki mirrored his master, his prosthetic gripping and igniting his lightsaber low and behind him, attempting to conceal the blade from view. It cast black shadows at his feet with crimson that made the water look like puddles of iron-rich blood on the metallic deck. His clawed hand was free for Force use, should it prove wise to, as his stance shifted side-on, with his back to his master.

“Huh-how do we tackle this thing?” He chattered, pulling his hood up to shield his vision from the rain that hissed on contact with their infernal blades.
“I cu-can feel its hunger. Perhaps we should keep force use to a mu-minimum?” He shrugged his heavy shoulders repeatedly, trying to energise himself and generate some heat, and slowly began stepping away from his master, encouraging a flanking manoeuvre on the ethereal monstrosity.

“What of the holocron? Can we use it as bait? Would the creature destroy it?”
Sharkish’Ki’s focus on the creature was predatory and analytical. Even as the cold ravaged him, he was mindful of the being in front of him, and his Lord to his right. He was eager to strike, but had no clue as to the rules of engagement. He would wait for it to strike, or for his Lord to.


@Grievance Vexx @Reiis Invadator

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility, Upper Levels

Vexx winces internally as he senses Sharkish’ki’s powers reconnect with him, bringing along all the heightened senses that go with it. Most times, he finds amusement in executing Force Sever, then retracting it as it gives him a sense of vengeance for all the times Force users had tormented him in his affliction of tinnitus. Taking their power away and then returning it to them, knowing how forcefully it returns, just felt good sometimes. The only exception had been the General; he had truly felt apologetic for doing that to her. Not that she didn’t ask for it—literally—but still, it wasn’t anything that brought him pleasure in that moment.

In the case of Sharkish’ki, the Krigsbefallaf is also with well-hidden remorse. This apprentice has proven to be courageous and dedicated thus far. Hopefully the rewards that lie within the holocron will be worth the cold and soggy hell Vexx has put him through.

As the starweird pursues them, Vexx draws Sharkish’ki into a tactical retreat as they move out into the rain. The incorporeal being follows, floating ghostlike over the sleek wet slab that is the landing platform. Dealing with this thing will not be easy. The Krigsbefallaf knows a few things about them, one being that they have the ability to pass through solid surfaces, such as walls. A knowledge that leaves him perplexed as to why the starweird has chosen now is the time to escape its control room prison.

“Protect the holocron, Apprentice,” his gravelly voice growls through the rain, “I do not know what this creature wants with us or how it even came to be on this planet, but if the holocron is what it wants, it will get to you over my dead body and it best be prying the holocron from your cold, dead hands if it gets it at all.”

With those final words of instruction, Vexx steps into a formal Makashi flourish and circles to the starweird’s right, not to attack, but rather to provoke an attack. He will never make the first move in combat, especially not with a strange creature such as this. The starweird, feeling threatened, moves in aggressive defense as Vexx had anticipated, slashing at him with its long claws. The cyborg moves with all the grace and precision of a dancer, luring the starweird toward him, yet always staying just out of reach. He makes a long sweeping slash followed by a quick thrust through the creature’s midriff, not at all surprised when the blade passes through it harmlessly.

He glances warily at Sharkish’ki as though to ask “Are you paying attention, Apprentice? Did you see that?”, demonstrating that the starweird likely will not be defeated by anyone’s swordsmanship today. He knows his apprentice is both intelligent and cunning. This is just one more test in how well master and apprentice can work together within the honor bound ways of the warrior to defeat a common foe.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki, @Reiis Invadator

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC- Sharkish’Ki
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility, Upper Levels


Sharkish’Ki watched as his master manoeuvred in a similar fashion to him, drawing the ethereal creature toward him with a flourish, it’s frigid blue talons clawing at the air Lord Vexx occupied only moments before as he evaded the incoming strikes. His mind was racing as combat ensued. There was something unearthly about the encounter that made him uneasy. And there it was, as his master’s blade sliced and jabbed at the immaterial being through the openings in its clumsy and primal slashing.

Sharkish’Ki continued his flanking, now opposite to his master, as the being flouted at Lord Vexx’s strikes.
*Perhaps this being is of pure Force energy, much like the ghosts of Masters that had learned to continue their existence through the Force* he pondered to himself, trying not to waste valuable time, though there was no doubt in his mind that Lord Vexx could toy with this creature until boredom set in.
*It wants Force energy to feed…* He took a step closer to the creature, *…severing it’s connection may make it corporeal… or dissipate it completely…?*
Incomplete knowledge created questions, as he watched his master slowly running out of space behind him.

“Sever it’s connection!” He shouted over the rain and screeching creature, throwing his voice toward Lord Vexx with the help of his rebreather’s amplifier. “If it can’t sense us, it may cease, at least, before starving!” The creature swung a glance in the direction of the voice, whipping a claw toward Lord Vexx that narrowly missed the cheek of his face-plate.
“And if it’s the Force holding it together, it may just dissipate…” he didn’t know the answer to these questions, but by Malak, he’d find out soon enough, as the creature began to advance on him.

Sharkish’Ki flourished his blade. Great arches of crimson hissed in the rain, and white-yellow sparks of plasteel jumped and died upon the puddles as his swings made the blade bite into the decking. He would become the distraction Lord Vexx needed to attempt his bold plan.



Tags: @Grievance Vexx @Reiis Invadator

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility, Upper Levels

The cyborg continues feinting attacks on the starweird, his lightsaber doing nothing to injure it, but his constant motion is enough to keep him from being struck by the savagely clawing talons. It also frustrates the otherworldly creature, which could give them the upper hand if it gets beyond whatever logic it may possess. Vexx thrusts and backs out of range in patterns that are impossible to predict without Fighting Sight, causing the starweird to make some rather terrifying noises in its mounting rage.

Vexx’s Force Sense is tuned strongly into Sharkish’ki and the apprentice will feel the bond between them begin to fortify itself as the Krigsbefallaf draws Sharkish’ki into his Battle Meditation, an easy feat as they are already connected by a rare quality common between the two as traditional warriors: honor. For the apprentice, it will feel as though massive unseen wings have spread over him, sheltering him against the panic the starweird’s screams seem to elicit in the same way that a raptor might stand between its fledglings and a storm. At the same time, Sharkish’ki will feel a strange calmness overtake him, as though victory is already assured.

Most Sith historically have been known to use Battle Meditation to hijack full-scale wars and bend the end results to their will. Not so with Grievance Vexx—not in this moment anyway. Sharkish’ki still possesses every bit of his own free will. His master is no manipulator or puppeteer. He is merely bolstering the younger Sith’s courage with his own battle-hardened tenacity. Through the Force, Sharkish’ki may even hear a fully organic voice, thick with a Kaleesh accent, whisper one command.

“Hold your ground, Krigare.”

This simple phrase is just his way of saying “no retreat; no surrender”. He knows Sharkish’ki is analyzing the situation; studying the enemy, which is precisely what Vexx had wanted him to do. Now the apprentice has a plan, he is ready to fight, and the added shield of Battle Meditation can only strengthen these things.

The Krigsbefallaf backs away in a semi-circle from the starweird, no longer standing between it and his apprentice. He makes eye contact briefly with Sharkish’ki in silent reassurance that he is helping set things in motion for the plan to unfold. The starweird becomes distracted from Vexx as Sharkish’ki brandishes his lightsaber. Clearly, the creature sees this as a challenging gesture as it unleashes another terrifying shriek and zooms toward the Death Apprentice, lashing out as though slicing a Force user in half is its sole purpose in existence.

For his part, the Dark Lord waits, pacing slowly with calculated deliberateness, watching the enemy, but also watching the warrior diverting its attention. He keeps the Battle Meditation in place for a time, but he will have to withdraw it before executing a Sever. Attempting to uphold both will deplete a sizable amount of his stamina and if the Sever fails, being in such a state will not help either of them to get out of this unharmed.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki, @Reiis Invadator

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC: Sharkish’ki
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility, Upper Levels

Sharkish’Ki’s eyes widened as the creature lunged for him with primal intent. A Starweird was indeed an unusual creature that embodied the word in more than just metaphor. It behaved like a star; ferocious and unbiased, chaos and yet organised in its planned attack, as it’s claws raked at the air Sharkish’Ki previously occupied. He moved to his left, leaning back, as the thing swiped with long arms of ethereal bone and sinew. Sharkish’Ki could feel it’s motions, and moved to where he could predict the creatures vicious, but all too limited, attacks.

He raised his lightsaber up with a flash of crimson, intercepting its hand as if to parry an opponent’s blade. He grinned in awe as the plasma passed through it, and stepped back. He didn’t mind being on his back foot; cage fights and bar fights were his playground, so he was used to toying with slow humans. Admittedly, he was tired, mentally pushing through the bone-chilling cold to keep up his momentum and generate some heat and fluidity to his movements.
*Remember your studies; stay nimble; conserve strength* he thought, as his breathing increased to match his heart rate.

It’s swiped again, as Sharkish’Ki stepped right, dodging the blow. It’s attacks came in flurries, left then right, as if it would tire, and then enrage itself upon failing to kill its target. The scream it created wailed up from the core of its being, shaking the very air around it as it rattled through the Force. The falling rain fell prey to the sonic assault, as the droplets dissipated and turned to mist, their weak molecular bonds betraying their cohesion.

The psychic attack forced Sharkish’Ki to a knee, his foot slipping in the rain as the Starweird pushed him backwards. He raised his lightsaber above his head to defend himself, whilst he grappled with the reverberations in his skull with his free hand. The sound brought tears to his eyes, and he couldn’t be sure if his ears were bleeding or not, as the cold rain interfered with any other sensations.

The creature lunged in its moment of opportunity, lashing effortlessly through the upheld blade. Sharkish’Ki pushed himself away in vain, as a claw struck his thigh. The pain didn’t hit him at first. It’s claw was colder than the eyes of a Tarisian viper before it’s strike. His flesh seemed to tear open like the protective layer on a fruit; it’s obsidian claws passed through his reinforced trousers like a butcher’s knife through Tach steak. The wound didn’t bleed at first, as he stared at it in disbelief. He thought he’d outmanoeuvre the thing, and without that scream, he may well have. He stared up at the glowing white eyes that looked neither alive, nor dead, as they flared, glaring back at him, seemingly gaining strength from the injury it inflicted.
Sharkish’Ki pulled his leg back, drawing his blade down ahead of him as he stood up and hobbled backwards a little. The wound closed a little, as he felt the warmth of fresh blood run down his shin.

“Well that’s just great! Now I’m gonna have to mend another pair of pants, AND wash out my boot!” He snarled at it, watching it as Lord Vexx subtly made his manoeuvre.
“I think it’s taken the bait, master! So whenever you’re ready…” he straightened his back, and squared his shoulders, setting an angry gaze on the creature intent on feeding on his essence.


Tags: @Grievance Vexx @Reiis Invadator

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility, Upper Levels

The scream unleashed once more by the starweird causes the Krigsbefallaf to cringe, the ceramiplast fins on either side of his head pinning back like the ears of a beast as the unwanted audio assault rattles his brain and causes his head to throb like a migraine. His tinnitus cannot compare to this brutality on his audio receptors. The only good part to the screaming is it only further concretes Vexx's determination to destroy this thing.

As Sharkish'ki engages the ghost-like ghoul, Vexx dispels his Battle Meditation, pulling the Force into himself so he can deliver what will hopefully be the killing blow to this ethereal nuisance. Focusing his gaze as he would if he were using Deadly Sight, the cyborg only has eyes for the enemy in this pivotal moment. From the depths of his soul, all of his past hatred for the Force culminates into the present.

The Force Sever flies from him like a bolt from a blaster rifle colliding with the starweird, which screams on impact. However, before it can turn its attention to its previous attacker, it dissipates into thin air like mist left behind by the cold Kamino rain. Only the faintest traces of its haunting scream echo in the air around master and apprentice.

Vexx sucks in a deep breath through his respirator, unable to mask the wheezing of his lungs from the physical toll Force Sever takes on his own body. He had forgotten about the presence of EV-A4-D until he feels the medical droid come up alongside him, running a wireless check on his vitals.

"I am fine, Doctor," he assures his concerned caretaker, "Take your services to my apprentice. I can sense his pain through the Force."

"Yes, Master." Not very often is A4-D so accommodating or obedient, but it would seem the droid knows when to be serious and when to give snark where snark is due. He wastes no time coming to Sharkish'ki's side, immediately noticing the blood drenching his pants leg. Now comes the snark.

"Great play, Shakespeare," he remarks, working quickly to place a tourniquet around the apprentice's thigh just above the wound, "I am going to give you the same advice I have been giving Old Iron Sides for years: quit doing your own stunts and hire a double--preferably a disposable one so I don't have to doctor him."

Once Sharkish'ki's leg is bandaged enough to staunch the bleeding, the Krigsbefallaf approaches and extends a clawed hand to help him rise. True to the warrior blood that still flows through his minimal organic remains, it is clear that "leave no man behind" could not be closer to the core of his beliefs. He is proud of his fellow soldier, though the ranks between them are many.

"Come, Apprentice," he turns away to stifle a cough behind his free arm, "Let us vacate this sopping wet hellhole. A4-D can better tend to your injuries on Vassek III."

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC: Sharkish’Ki
Kamino - Abandoned Cloning Facility, Upper Levels

Sharkish’Ki pulled back his injured leg, putting his weight onto his stronger appendage, certain that the creature would strike again. Pain receptors flared as the frigid rain teased the open wound, the agony flooding through neurones with each droplet, sending a cascade of adrenaline through his bloodstream.

He was warming, at least, his ducking and dodging, and Makashi footwork had aided in generating some body heat. If this was the last time he’d venture onto this floating graveyard, he’d be content. Kamino, that once harboured a technological masterpiece, was nothing more than a ghost ship, and one he was most looking forward to leaving as such.

The ethereal creature whisped ever closer to him and the Force-filled contraption at his side, entranced by their strong Force signatures. Tendrils of energy swirled around its gaunt frame, hungry to devour them both. He sneered as the Starweird began to draw in energy, darkening the immediate atmosphere around itself. The raindrops seemed to vanish into mists, sublimating into smaller and smaller particles as the Force was leeched from the microorganisms that dwelt within them; such was the Starweird’s hunger, and mastery over the Force.

Sharkish’Ki watched his master staking the creature, his polished framework glinting in the floodlights of his craft and those that dotted the landing pad. The shine almost blended in with the aura emanating from the Starweird, as it prepared another scream attack.
Lord Vexx thrust out a taloned claw, sending forth a bolt of dark Force energy. Time seemed to slow down once again, as vines of purple and black spread through the creature, infecting it’s placement in the Force.

And then it was no more.

Rain now fell where the being once was, as if Sharkish’Ki and his master had been alone with A4-D the whole time. The blood at his feet was one of the few clues that hinted at their engagement of anything at all, as Lord Vexx’s companion droid zipped over upon command.

Sharkish’Ki switched off his blade, the red plasma retreating into its cavity, before stowing it on his belt; the movement now practiced and completed so many times, it was nary a thought. A4-D scurried about his leg, closing the wound and binding the injury site before Sharkish’Ki could complain about the bedside manner, or lack of.

“Thank you, my Lord,” as he took a grip of the forearm offered to him, helping him balance as A4-D processed the injury. The Kaleeshi’s grasp was not what he imagined, as the talons encircled his arm with a firm yet purposeful strength. Sharkish’Ki had pulled apart droids before, but this was something else. Metallic, and yet organic. Dead, yet very much alive.
“Let’s hope we don’t come across another of those any time soon!” He held is soaked cloak away from his leg, allowing A4-D to work their magic.
“Though at least we know your power works to dispel them.” He pondered briefly on the training involved in learning his master’s unique ability, before putting his weight on the injured leg, and letting the cloak go. It dropped heavily to his sides, as he eyed the pouch that had remained intact this whole time. With distractions dispersed, it’s call had become noticeable; like a whispering in a foreign tongue, that could very well be mistaken for the wind.
“Thank you, Eevee…” he mumbled, almost dismissing the droid absentmindedly, “but I always do my own stunts. It’s how I stay so lean.” He chuckled, purging the whispers from his thoughts, as his master spoke.
“…My pilot is waiting for me, my Lord, so I’ll meet you there…” he said, looking into the eyes of his master with a hint of gratitude, as he gave command to depart the forsaken facility.

Taking a bow, that seemed to take more effort than normal, he turned and headed for the Cruor shuttle. He wanted nothing more than to shed his soaked clothes, and eat, though he couldn’t help but think the Sith holocron had other plans for him.


@Grievance Vexx @Reiis Invadator

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Fortress Landing Platform, sometime later...

The Coup De Grâce touches down with all the lightness of a feather in the mist surrounding the Krigsbefallaf's fortress. Vexx shuts down the engines on the Belbussa 41 starfighter and sits in silence for a moment, as though finally able to pause and reflect on the day's events. So many dangers faced; strange creatures outwitted, but Death Apprentice Sharkish'Ki had triumphed. He will live to fight another day.

And he has the holocron.

Pulling in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Vexx at last moves to disembark, releasing the airlock on the transparisteel dome that shelters the cockpit. Like a practiced contortionist, he climbs out and leaps to the ground, coming to rest in a three-point landing before rising to his full height and scanning the surrounding area for intruders.

"Well, the trip to Kamino was worth the death-defying terror, I suppose," EV-A4-D mutters, making his exit by way of the ramp descending from the belly of the Coup De Grâce, "At least all that rain washed the bugs off your viewport. You sure you're all right?"

"Never better, Doctor," Vexx coughs, "Severing connections to the Force just comes at a price, that is all."

Despite his reassuring words, he can feel the droid's scrutinizing photo receptors boring into him suspiciously. The cyborg dismisses the look with a wave of his clawed hand as he trudges through the fog toward the imposing doors to his lair. Dividing his two arms into four, he presses a specific pattern of panels in the doors and they yield with a deep rumbling of stone upon stone. Another deep rumbling soon follows: the growl of a beast.

"Dra sig till tillbaka, Grog," Vexx commands in Kaleesh to his pet roggwart, who stares menacingly from the inner gloom of the Krigsbefallaf's vestibule, "It is only me."

As soon as the words leave his vocabulator, Grog shifts from deadly guardian to playful pet, galloping up to his master and sitting up proudly...with a destroyed B1 battle droid dangling from his jaws.

"Roger roooo...gerrrr..."



"Grog, what have you done?" Vexx cannot help but facepalm, "You know better than to chew up battle droids. That is bad. Bad Grog!"

The monstrous creature whimpers, complete with a lower lip quiver, dropping the battle droid and lowering himself at his mechanical master's feet in an attempt to apologize. Vexx scowls disapprovingly at Grog before his gaze softens.

"Just don't do this again," he warns, "And absolutely do not chew up Apprentice Sharkish'Ki. The General will kill me. He should be arriving soon. You be nice, understand?"

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC: Sharkish’Ki
Vassek III - Fortress Landing Platform, a little more later...

The shuttle wasn’t nearly as warm as he’d hoped, as he slumped into one of the many vacant drop-seats.
“You know, I think it’s about time we upgraded this thing to something a little more our style!” He called out over the whir of the ion engines.
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great little run-about, but darn, it’s really missing a shower!” He leaned forward over the mesh grating that layered the floor of the transport craft, took a great bunch of his cloak, and put a great deal of strength into wringing it out, drenching deck, and wafting the smell of sodium through the cabin.

“You want a hair dryer back there? I have one in my… oh, wait, no I don’t… it’s a combat vessel!”
The pilot retorted, whilst plucking at buttons and monitoring displays.
Sharkish’Ki laughed, wiping more water from his brow, and shaking his fingers through his hair that sent droplets in all directions.
“Plot a course for Thrysus. The barracks there will do fine for a drying off. I’m not presenting myself to my master in this state!” There was a soft tone to his barked order, as he enjoyed the banter between them, and saw no sense in anger for anger’s sake.
“I figured the sun there would bake you dry. Course is plotted. Entering hyperspace in three… two… one.” She pulled back on the hyperdrive accelerator, and the cabin was bathed in the blue-white as the craft ripped into subspace.

Moments later, they’d arrived, and Sharkish’Ki quickly made his way for a fresh tunic, and dry boots, before returning to the craft once more to depart for Vassek III.

All the while the holocron sat patiently at his side, waiting…

Before long, Vassek III came into view, the three moons providing unique shadows to mostly temperate planet. As the Cruor shuttle descended, the holocron began to whisper, catching Sharkish’Ki’s attention, as he grabbed the satchel that enveloped it. Attempting to grasp it only led to flashes of void in his mind that cut his vision with blinding darkness. The shuttle touched down on the landing platform, the Coup De Grâce nestled comfortably against the rocky backdrop of cliffs that lead to the labyrinth which the Krigsbefallaf called his fortress.

Sharkish’Ki wandered down the embarkment ramp, all the while the whispering continued. He stopped dead in his tracks, a few meters away from the open doorway in the rock face. The ground before him was littered with scrap. Limbs from a separatist battle droid were scattered across the scuffled ground. Sharkish’Ki’s senses made him feel uneasy, with the sounds of tumbling rocks and stones coming from nearby.
His comms crackled, the voice of his pilot distorted and crackled. “I’ve got movement west of you!”
“Take off and circle round! I don’t want my ride wrecked by whatever’s down here!” He barked, waving his arm in an upward circular motion, motioning her to escape. The shuttle whirred to life, lifting off the platform as the ramp closed, backing away from the ground as its twin cannons trained the ground around him.
“Sharkish’Ki to Lord Vexx! Lord Vexx, come in! There’s something out here!” His voice was steady, yet concerned. There was no response, and the Force was of little aid to him.

From behind an outcrop, the creature stomped forwards; all scales, horns and teeth, and claws that raked great gouges into the rocks. It peered at the human trespasser with a cold indifference, yet it held its position, slightly overlooking the entrance to their Lord’s lair. “Hold your fire… I think this is Grog,” Sharkish’Ki’s hand moved to his lightsaber, as the creature stooped and narrowed its eyes in disapproval, gripping the rocks tighter with the sounds of grinding stone. Moving his hand away softened the roggwarts stance, though his eyes remained scorned and tracked on him, as he slowly manoeuvred into the passageway. “Stay airborne! I don’t want that thing taking one bite out of that ship!” He spoke quietly, as the shadows of the tunnels ahead enveloped him, all the while the creature began to stalk him, training its scrutinising gaze upon him, coaxing him further into the labyrinth.

He tried to retrace his steps, to no avail, yet the Roggwart seemed to keep its distance, towering within the tunnels. Knowing the Force, Lord Vexx would find him, and lead him to where they needed to be, preferably before ‘Grog’ got hungry enough to try his luck.


Tags: @Grievance Vexx @Reiis Invadator

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Fortress, Medical Room

"Grog! What did I tell you?" The coughing voice of Grievance Vexx appears to be coming from the collar area of the armor that the roggwart is wearing. "Stand down!"

Let it be known that Grievance Vexx had at some point seen fit to equip Grog with a comlink of his own. Not that two-way communication is entirely necessary, especially given the fact that the Krigsbefallaf has a bond with the creature through the Force, but it helps for outsiders to know that the deadly roggwart is under his command, for better or for worse.

"It is all right, Apprentice," Vexx's voice now comes through Sharkish'Ki's comlink, "Just let him sniff you and he will let you be on your way."

Of course, this is not the same thing as letting a Loth wolf sniff you. Grog is enormous and one nostril is about the size of Sharkish'ki's head. As the roggwart brings his massive muzzle down eye level with the apprentice and inhales, Sharkish'Ki may feel like he needs to anchor himself, lest he be sucked up into the beast's snout like it is a high velocity vacuum cleaner.

Satisfied by his investigation of the intruder, Grog snorts and his eyes soften, but he does not let the intruder-turned-guest escape without a warm welcome. The warm tongue of the roggwart lolls forth and slurps Sharkish'Ki from elbow to ear, then he prances away proudly, ground shaking under his tromping claws.

"If you are done playing with the puppy, I have some bacta packs waiting for you," the voice of EV-A4-D precedes his appearance as he meets Sharkish'Ki in the dim corridors of the fortress, "You need that wound off yours properly treated and, contrary to what you may hear around here, I do have better things to do with my time."

The droid medic then totters away, expecting Sharkish'Ki to follow him as he makes his way to the medical room where the Krigsbefallaf is also waiting.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC- Death Apprentice Sharkish’Ki
Vassek III - Fortress, Medical Room

Sharkish’Ki stood there for a good minute, eyes tightly shut, and completely overtaken by what had just happened. Had he just made friends with a roggwart? He wasn’t sure if he should be thankful, or disgusted, as the mucus from the extremely personal interaction dripped from his body. He his lips were pressed tight, as he brought a hand to his face, dragging it down his now sopping visage in an attempt to remove as much of the drool as he could before opening his eyes or mouth, and with a flick of his wrist, splattered a shower of the goop across the floor next to him, whilst fighting the urge to vomit. It was the smell, more than the gesture itself. He lurched.

“Uuggh, it’s OK. I’m OK!” He took shallow breaths, trying not to breath through his nose.

Composing himself, he convinced himself he wasn’t going to redecorate a section of wall and floor, and proceeded to follow his master’s droid further into the labyrinth that was the Krigsbefallaf’s lair. Tunnels led off from tunnels; some archaic, others reconstructed, and some modern, pristine corridors of obsidian plasteel. Some led into empty rooms, and some not so empty, as loud whispering greeted his inquisitive eyes. Some were barred by heavy doors; one in particular had a hastily hung notice written in several languages “Acolyte and APPRENTICE admission by appointment only!” It was watched by dome-shaped cameras with several lens types, from all possible angles, and he couldn’t be sure they weren’t trained on him that very moment. Thinking no more of it, he continued to tail the droid.

A few steps later, and one of the newer corridors opened up into a medbay of some kind, clearly equipped to deal with everything from the average to the obscure. The droid indicated to a chair, and with little regard to the throbbing pain the wound was causing, he casually sat down with a hefty bounce, appreciating the comfort of the half padded seat. Putting his head back, it began to softly recline, raising his legs to near-horizontal.

Watching the droid busy about the room, collecting a tray of various tools and swabs, needles and dishes, he was curious about the loyal companion.

“How long have you been in Lord Vexx’s service?” He enquired, all the while tapping at the small at his side, feeling for the protruding tip of the tetrahedron. The droid gave him a fleeting look, before setting to work.

The existing bandage was cut either side of his thigh with quick and precise slices from a laser scalpel, and the top half peeled delicately off, pulling at the congealing plasma and newly forming tissue. Sharkish’Ki braced himself, gripping the raised armrest, and gritting his teeth as Eevee began to clean the wound with saline, before cutting at the oddly forming necrotic tissue. He hadn’t even noticed; too used to just getting on with things and pushing through the pain, that he hadn’t considered that the wound might’ve been infected.

Bright light shone on black veins that had taken root, as his garment was peeled back to expose the extent of the injury, and soon after the droid began slicing the dead tissue that felt very much alive, as the pain sent stinging jolts through his nervous system. Moments felt like minutes as Eevee cut and washed, and cut some more, seeking to remove anything and all that was out of place. His blood trickled down his leg, coagulating and drying on his skin in layers, as the efficient droid swabbed and diluted the weeping wound.

The holocron whispered and thrummed, perhaps responding to Sharkish’Ki’s pain, as it quietened upon the application of the bacta pack, it’s analgesics calming the exposed nerve endings almost immediately as it settled onto the gash and began working its magic. Sharkish’Ki put his head back and closed his eyes, falling prey to the calm of the numbing effects of the bacteria and nutrient filled concoction.

Tags: @Grievance Vexx @Reiis Invadator

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Fortress, Medical Room

The medical room is quiet but for the soft hum of the massive bacta tank in the corner and, of course, the movements of EV-A4-D, yet the presence of the Dark Lord Krigsbefallaf can be strongly felt here. Funny how such a large and imposing character as he can hide in plain sight undetected by natural senses. He is watching as Sharkish'Ki limps into the room, following the antiquated medical droid to the chair where his aged wound will be opened, flushed, and properly cared for.

"Good thing you came when you did," A4-D sounds disgusted as he inspects the wound cutting into Sharkish'Ki's thigh, "Gross. You would either be looking at earning yourself another prosthetic or just planning to make your Darth title Darth Gangrenous or something when you earn your stripes. By the way, thank you for making extra work for me. I really appreciate it."

The droid's scathing sarcasm usually produces one of two responses from his patients: they are either indignant or amused. A4-D doesn't care about either reaction, however. He just continues to diligently serve his purpose. And sometimes cause a little extra pain for the patient in the process.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did that hurt?" He is clearly not sorry for causing the apprentice to flinch anymore than he would be sorry to his own master for exacerbating his pain. He pauses, however, as Sharkish'Ki asks about his length of service to the cantankerous Krigsbefallaf, seemingly caught off guard by the apprentice's genuine interest in his background.

"It's been about two decades now," he replies, depositing bandages and dead tissue into a biohazard receptacle, "I was recruited as his caretaker at the dawn of his transformation. As I'm sure you know, he was not always a cyborg. When that took place, he...almost didn't make it."

Where EV-A4-D typically has an aire of arrogance about him, there is the strangest sense of cautious humility in his tone at this point. The painful past of Grievance Vexx is not something the droid takes lightly. He crosses the room to attend to a beeping alert while Sharkish'Ki rests under the application of the bacta packs. Flipping a switch that illuminates the massive bacta tank dominating a formerly darkened corner, the reason the Krigsbefallaf's presence has been felt is revealed. He has apparently been undergoing a routine treatment as his unmasked face atop his cybernetic body is clearly seen through the transparisteel walls.



"All right, all right! I know you get edgy when your apprentice is in here," A4-D sighs, "Your own fault, Master. I told you that prestige drop was a bad idea. All it did was make you paranoid."

"I am not paranoid!" Vexx snaps, his voice carrying through a speaker on the control panel of the bacta tank. He is helpless to continue his argument however when a coughing fit overtakes him as the harness suspending him in the tank lifts him out by way of pulleys powered by hydraulics.

"Of course, you're not," A4-D replies, sounding anything but convinced of this as he goes about the business of preparing to reattach his master's faceplate. Disconnecting Vexx from the harness and exterior breathing apparatuses, he waits for the cyborg Dark Lord to take his position on the steel slab that serves as the main site of surgery and repair work.

"How is the leg, Apprentice?" Vexx asks as he settles himself and braces for noise and general discomfort. A4-D never misses a beat as he positions the Kaleesh mask over his master's face and begins securing it with a soldering torch attached to one of his appendages.

The Krigsbefallaf can sense the call of the holocron as well, though it is not as urgent and pressing for him as it is for Sharkish'Ki. Its secrets are intended for the apprentice and this is why he will feel a much stronger pull. Nevertheless, Vexx is eager to see Sharkish'Ki unlock the device and claim whatever knowledge it has in store for him.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki, @Reiis Invadator

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC: Sharkish’Ki
Vassek III - Fortress, Medical Room
The beeping stirs Sharkish’Ki, as he opened his eyes to the familiar form of his master in a very unfamiliar state, bringing himself back into the moment. He nodded at Evee’s reply, as the droid busied away to deal with their master.

“So this is how you stay so spritely, master?” He chuckled. Bacta treatments weren’t uncommon, as he progressed through the fight pits, gifted better treatment, weapons and armour, and yet he recalled the times he’d been gifted their use, noting his rise in colloquial humour each time.

“It does wonders for the skin, wouldn’t you agree? And the leg will be fine,” he gave the nearest pack a little flick, disturbing hundreds of tiny bubbles that had formed on the surface of the transparent sections. “One thing’s for sure, we’re not going back to Kamino in a hurry. I can understand why someone would go to such lengths to hide a thing, but that was almost overkill!” The slight laughter continued, all the while tapping absentmindedly on the pouch, as he watched his master being hoisted out of the tank, and something clicked in his thoughts.

“Wait… if this holocron was meant for me, how comes you knew where it was, and I didn’t?” He paused for a second, almost expecting the question to remain rhetorical.

“I’ve only heard rumours of these little vaults. How do you suppose we open it?” He reached into the pouch as his master’s reconditioning was completed, taking a firm grip of the holocron’s underside. “I’ve heard that some sense of tranquility opens the Jedi ones… Am I supposed to just get angry at this one?” The joviality was wearing off. The bacta pack had almost completed its cycle, as the indicator lighting changed to signify its status. He swung his legs over the side of the reclining chair, swivelling to face his master whilst holding the insidious artefact, pondering at it and absorbing its details.

Tag: @Grievance Vexx @Reiis Invadator