#rycus kilran

[kossamer]

*DERANGED SCREAMING*

[anchanted-one]

Book of Storms: The Legend of Vajra

Chapter 5: Morr Trouble

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/108894615

Early The Next day

“Good morning, fellow Masters. I appreciate so many of you showing up on such short notice.”

Vajra heard Kira snort. It was just Masters Orgus, Satele, Kaedan, Kiwiiks, and Gnost. Even Master Gnost’s Apprentice wasn’t here. Kira had looked quite displeased at having to wake up even earlier than she’d expected. She was something of a late riser, she confided in Vajra.

“Master Kiwiiks reported what they found in Keleth yesterday. A Khrayii that could use the Force, and the ancient Holocron she found among them. She thought they were getting their knowledge from this repository. I wish that were true. I’m sure most of us remember T7-01? He served nobly with Master Ven Zallow for almost fifteen years. He was by his side during the Sack of Coruscant and helped us recover some of the bodies. He has given us vital information yet again. He gave me a disc of his memories during his capture. Upon reviewing it thoroughly, I was able to confirm my worst fears. The Khrayii are led by someone I thought had been killed on Coruscant. My former Padawan, Bengel Morr.” Master Orgus had to close his eyes for a second, and swallow back strong emotions. He took a deep breath before continuing. “It is clear that he trained the Rogue Jedi Vajra fought that first day. A man he called Callef. I checked the records, and there was a ‘Callef’ brought in days before the Sack. He was one of many presumed dead, just like Bengel. I do not know how they survived, but they were the ones who got their hands on those blasters. They’re the ones who armed and trained the Khrayii, and sicced them on both, the Kalikori, and us. Why, I do not know. We only have testimony of Callef’s words. What he called a ‘cleansing’. Perhaps they intend to reforge the Jedi order. Perhaps they believed we failed that day on Coruscant.”

“There are many who believe that,” Master Satele sighed. “Even among our own numbers.”

“Why’s that?” Vajra whispered to Kira.

“Because there were only around twenty Jedi Knights in the Temple. The rest were Padawans and younglings. The bulk of the Jedi had been ordered off-world by our glorious leaders. If anyone was responsible, it was the Senate. And the Chancellor.”

“Come to think about it, I don’t know much about the Sack. Only that it ended the last war. And that the Republic got Coruscant back.”

“Well… it was pretty despicable. The Sith called for a truce, and for a summit on Alderaan. The Jedi Council warned them against it, but many important Senators were happy to go along with it. They wanted peace. Trouble is, they took huge escorts with them. Jedi, soldiers, ships. All from the Coruscant defense. It was like they never dreamed the Sith could be duplicitous. And sure enough, the Sith invaded. They focused on the Temple, and Senate. But they gained orbital superiority, so the whole galaxy knew they could be bombed any time we made the Sith angry. So, the Sith were able to hold a trillion souls hostage. And force humiliating terms upon the Republic. The mastermind behind the operation was one Darth Angral—”

“I’ve heard of that man. One of the ‘butchers of Coruscant’.”

“Yeah. A Captain named Rycus Kilran helped him execute it. Got made Grand Moff for it. There were others on the ground, of course. Darth Malgus led the assault on the Temple personally. He was given the fearsome title of ‘Bane of the Jedi’.”

“He killed one great Jedi, but many were Padawans, right? I wonder if he’s really that tough. I can beat him.”

“Are you fucking serious? He was on the same level as Master Satele in her prime!”

“You know I can take her, right?”

Kira looked at him, mouth agape. “Where’s this sudden pride coming from? Just remember kid, not all fights are the same. You can take on an army of Flesh Raiders, that’s awesome. You can defeat Masters on the sparring field. Fantastic! But real battle with a full Sith Lord is something else entirely! Do not ever underestimate those sick fucks. They fight dirty, they use the Force to do crazy things, and they are powerful when they go berserk.”

“I remember; I saw Darth Bellicose in action. I am confident that as I am, I could crush him if I were to meet him today.”

“Damn. Wish I had your confidence!”

“Still, you’re probably right. Bellicose wasn’t Malgus. And perhaps even Master Orgus can beat me in a real battle.”

Was that a tinge of sarcasm coloring his voice? No, certainly not! “I’m glad you’re coming to your senses. You become something else when we talk pure combat, you know that?”

“Sorry.”

“I kinda like it actually. Pride befitting your skill. Better than false humility. Do you think you can make your default mode closer to this?”

“Done. But only with you, my secretly evil master.”

She chuckled. “Still, if you want to go after the big fish, try the smaller ones first. And toss me an invite. I wanna see how you actually fare against a Sith. And if you’re in over your head, I can be backup.”

“Okay!”

“Bengel is my responsibility,” Master Orgus said. “But I acknowledge that I am compromised in this matter. If anyone wants the matter of the Khrayii to be transferred to someone else, I will step aside. That concludes what I wanted to discuss.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Master Kaedan said gruffly. “You’re a Master. One of the Council. I trust you can do what you have to.”

“At the very least, I trust my new Padawan to have my back.” Orgus smiled at Vajra.

“He needs training,” Kiwiiks protested. “Not physical training, of course. After having seen him in action, I’m certain he could defeat most threats the galaxy has to offer. It’s his readiness that I speak of.”

“I will, of course, work with him on that. I promise you that I will not put him in danger again unless I am certain he can handle it.”

“That’s noble of you,” Master Kaedan said. “But do not have too much faith in him. I can see how soft his mind is. Unprepared.”

“That was uncalled for, Master Kaedan,” Orgus protested. “I feel compelled to remind you of a certain someone who used to cry every time I took his saber away and told him it was past time for bed.”

All the Masters kept straight faces, but Kira openly laughed. Even T7 made an approximation of raucous laughter. Kaedan glared at both her and Master Orgus. “Fine, have your giggles. I’m talking about the next five months. Of course, he has a chance to become a splendid Jedi in thirty or forty years.”

“Is that what he thinks he is?” Kira whispered.

“Do not gamble the security of this sanctuary on one Padawan. That’s all I meant.”

“Noted.”

“Then this Council is decided,” Master Satele said. She sounded like she was fighting a bout of laughter. “Master Orgus will continue leading our defense against the Flesh Raiders. And against Bengel Morr. Vajra, you are in charge of the Kalikori defenses.”

“Me?”

“Yes. The villagers have learned to trust you. I am confident you can handle it without neglecting your training.”

“I’ll try, Master.”

“Do or do not, there is no try.”

“I don’t understand. How can you do something without trying?”

“What it means, my young Padawan, is that you can’t do things if you doubt yourself. Normally, whenever we say ‘I’ll try,’ instead of ‘consider it done!’ it means we harbor doubts in our hearts.”

Huh? What kind of logic was that? “That sounds…”

“You can do it, Padawan. Master Satele has full confidence in you.”

He shrugged. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“That’s what I like to hear!”

“Council adjourned,” Master Satele called, and everyone rose to leave.

“Nice and short, just the way I like it,” Kira whispered to Vajra. “Now, come on. Let’s grab some breakfast before Master Kiwiiks and I leave. I’ll show you that mix I promised.”

*

Bengel Morr stood in the nook above a roaring river. This world was peaceful. Calm. A perfect place for the Jedi to forget about the things that awaited them outside, in the galaxy. The Sith. The war. The many, many threats to the Republic. And the price of their failure. The spray from the rapids reached his skin, providing much needed moisture—for his headquarters was rather dry, and the water source was not something he could take a dip in without spoiling its potability.

“Master Bengel,” Tiari whispered. “The Raiders you sent to secure Keleth have all been killed.”

“Unfortunate. Replacing them will not be easy. If only the Jedi had shown this tenacity during the war.”

“There are so few Jedi in the Temple,” Doril said. “Fewer than a hundred Knights. Just a few of the Masters. I’d thought this would be easier. The ones on Coruscant just fell over when Malgus sneezed in their direction.”

“Is it a surprise that these primitive beasts are not Sith?”

“Well… since you put it that way…”

“Our work is going according to plan. The Order is being cleansed, just as we wished. The deadwood is whittled away, and the strongest shine forth. Like the boy who killed poor Callef. I’m told he was just a child, yet he alone accounted for almost ninety percent of our dead in that battle. And would his prowess have shone forth was it not for the event we orchestrated?”

“But… he killed Callef.”

“Yes. He owes us our friend’s life. Which means he has the option of joining us… or dying. I think we can persuade him to the former.”

“You would let Callef’s killer walk among us?” Tiari looked appalled. “Your apprentice? Your Lieutenant?”

“Remember our ultimate goal, my child. The utter annihilation of the Sith. We will need all the warriors we can get. If this Padawan can take down a few Sith, he belongs among us. I remember Coruscant. I remember… the Jedi failed us. But it was the Sith who wronged us. The despicable cowards attacked a school after luring out all the teachers and guards! How in blazes can they be proud of that?”

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to remember. He’d been training along with other Padawans when they’d heard a horrible crash. The ground shook from some tremendous impact, and every one of the trainees had felt death after death as surprise invaders and defenders killed each other. Bengel had sped outside, Lightsaber in hand, but Anya Alekseeva had told him to get the younglings to safety. Dear, sweet Anya… who had begun sharing her bed with him in the months before the cowardly attack. Anya, in whose company he had felt true peace. Anya, who he fancied was the love of his life.

Even as he ran to obey her order—although she was only a year his senior, she had been recently Knighted—he had looked back just in time to see her cut down by a masked Sith. He remembered his long scream of horror, a scream that had drawn the attention of several Sith and Jedi. Another Knight had sacrificed himself to save Bengel, reminding him to go to the Younglings.

But right when he’d reached the younglings’ quarters, the roof had collapsed. He had been trapped in a small room with twenty-five younglings, trapped alone for days as they slowly started to feel the bite of thirst and hunger. No help had come for them. Instead, a small section of floor collapsed under the rubble. Luckily, the rest of the ground didn’t crumble beneath them. He was able to lead the younglings to safety through a network of tunnels underneath the Temple.

They had wandered around the underbelly of Coruscant for months before they emerged. Every single one of his charges suffered from night terrors, as did Bengel himself. Again and again, he asked himself how the Jedi could have let this happen. How his precious Master could have failed to come to his rescue.

He had come to one, inescapable conclusion. The Jedi were weak. Had been allowed to grow weak by centuries of complacency. Weak enough for the very heart of their power to be crushed by only a small force of Sith and Mandalorians. Outrage boiled in his bowels, outrage at having been so royally failed.

He mourned the death of his beloved, and of his innocence. But he yearned for vengeance. It had come to him one night, that he could not defeat the Sith alone. He needed the Jedi behind him. If they were weak, he just had to retrain them. To teach them how to fight again.

And so, he had begun instructing his twenty-three surviving younglings in his new philosophy, honing them to be weapons to be used against the Sith. And he had bided his time, seeing the Jedi withdraw to a remote location to lick their wounds.

It had taken much effort to find out where Tython was, and more to smuggle his students there. And three shiploads of weapons, once they’d finally subjugated the Flesh Raiders. He’d lost five more apprentices in that endeavor, leaving him with just eighteen of his original twenty-seven.

And now, Callef was dead too, killed by an upstart young Jedi. But if he were to join them, perhaps he could pay them back the life he stole. No one could truly replace Callef, but Bengel couldn’t be picky. He needed every true Jedi he could get his hands on if he were to achieve his ultimate goal.

The utter humiliation and death of Darths Angral, and Malgus.

*

Vajra spent the day fixing the damage to T7’s head. His Master arrived sometime after lunch and began quizzing Vajra on difficult words to test how his studies had been going.

“Anachronism.”

“Something out of place or time, usually in literature. Includes figures of speech, fashion trends, architecture, or technology.”

“Serendipitous.”

“When you find just what you need by seemingly pure chance.”

Master Orgus chuckled. “‘Seemingly,’ eh?”

“Master WenSuul used to get very cross if I ever talked about luck like it wasn’t the will of the Force.”

“While she’s not wrong, that doesn’t mean ‘luck’ isn’t a word. Especially in the mind of the Ungifted. ‘Malapropos’.”

He thought about that one for a few moments, but shook his head.

“Inappropriate, or inopportune.”

“Master… I need to talk about the Khrayii. About killing.”

“About your guilt.”

“That guilt almost got me killed the other day. And by such unskilled opponents too!”

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Pride leads to ruin, Vajra. Never forget that. Few beings in this galaxy meet the end they think they deserve. I’ve lost count of how many great soldiers I’ve known who died, not in some great mission, but on backwater worlds. Or in hospital beds. Some got killed by novices. Others died of accidents. All it really takes is a single stroke of bad luck. When your final moments come, do not let it be of shame or regret.”

“Yes, Master. About my problem—”

“You want to come to terms with all the lives you’ve ended.”

“Yes, Master.”

“It’s no easy thing.”

“The Khrayii… did they deserve to die?”

“They are hurting innocent lives. We protect them. And ourselves”

“That doesn’t seem to be enough. What am I missing?”

“I’m sorry, my young friend. You need to find your own answers. Someone else’s won’t cut it.”

“Master… I come from a society of primitives, same as the Khrayii. Perhaps not the same, but… if our history had been only a little different, I’d imagine we would be hostile to all visitors too. Perhaps we’d take their very presence as an insult. Or a threat. But we were lucky. We’d known only peace for a thousand years. True wars such as what we face out here never happened. Nothing I’ve heard from my elders or Master WenSuul prepared me for this. And I’m just fourteen! I know there’s many who are forced to kill at younger ages, but me… I was raised in a sheltered place. I’m not ready for this. At this rate, I will die in my next fight. And my last thoughts will be ‘I deserved this.’ I need your help. Please.”

Master Orgus rubbed his jaw. “I suppose there’s no harm in giving you my own answer. If only to tell you how to search.”

“That might help greatly, Master.”

“I was already a grown man when the Sith invaded. I’d spent my apprenticeship as most Jedi did. Mediating minor disputes, enforcing peace, and occasionally hunting down criminals. Killing was always difficult. But then came the war…” he shivered. “I fight—and kill—for all the things I want to protect. The Republic. The Jedi. The students. My Padawans. Innocent people, especially children. What you saw back on Raudraksha… it was nasty. Senseless death caused by one of the most homicidal maniacs of his time. Unfortunately, it’s a lot more common than we’d like to believe. I’ve seen it happen all too often. And not just the Sith. Thugs, despots, lunatics, crime lords. Serial killers. Even our own Republic soldiers have committed massacres which I dearly wanted to punish them for, but couldn’t. It wears on you quickly.

“I too, hesitated in my younger days. I too almost got killed. My life was only saved by happenstance. By a comrade who happened to intervene. Or an enemy who tripped in their eagerness to kill me. And yet as time went on, I realized that the lives I took kept others safe. I was able to see it in reports. In the patterns. And, after some practice, I could feel the Force itself sigh with relief. Populations cried in relief; strings of massacres ended. The death of Darth Bellicose was particularly poignant. When a seven-year-long killing spree ends, you notice the galaxy becoming a slightly better place. The Twi’leks of Kalikori have not been attacked even once after your rather frightening attack in the valley. And when the next attack comes, they’ll be ready for it. They are happy that someone is looking out for them. That someone cares enough to give them weapons. Hear their woes. Return the ashes of their dead. You’ve created some waves there, good waves. It’s brought them light in a dark time. If a being’s death brings great relief to a whole lot of people, then perhaps it was necessary.”

“‘Perhaps’?”

“Yes. We do not pass judgement, Padawan. Especially not the death sentence. However, fighting someone who has attacked, or is preparing to attack innocents, is unavoidable. Death in combat is unavoidable. If you want, you could just leave them without limbs, but even to us, it’s a heavy blow. Just look at how many of our paralysed students asked for mercy. To creatures like the Khrayii, it would be worse than a death sentence. Strength is everything. The weak get left behind. And we do not yet have a way of rehabilitating them. As you can see, morality and reasoning are both complicated and slippery. But do you understand how we come to terms?”

“I think so, Master.”

“If I may make a suggestion, read what Jasme has to share with you. About the Raudra. You may be estranged from your home, but it had an impact in your formative years. Perhaps the wisdom of your great-father can grant you some measure of understanding.”

“That… that is a wonderful idea, Master!” Vajra cried. “I’ll do that as soon as I can.”

“Not now?”

“Right now, my priority is T7. After what he’s been through, he deserves it.”

Master Orgus chuckled. “You’re right. That droid is special after all. You both are. Alright, if you’re satisfied with my answer, I’ll leave you alone for now. Think on what I’ve just said. May you find your own answer soon. And peace along with it.”

*

Jasme ushered Vajra into the cubicle. “Come on, come on! I’ve already got everything loaded for you!”

“Everything?”

“Don’t get too excited, ‘everything’ isn’t a whole lot.”

“It’s okay.” He sat down right in front of the screen, and she beside him.

“I think this is a good place to start. It’s like a brief overview.”

“Report on the Raudra, by Master Oteg,” Vajra read out loud. “The Raudra are a proud and noble race that live on the mountainous world of Raudraksha. They get their name from their hero-ancestor, Rudra. He is said to have saved them from a race of demonic serpents more than a thousand years ago. Said serpent enslaved not only the Raudra’s ancestors, but another race called the Iakshas, who went extinct as a result of the serpents. Rudra, once he managed to free his people and become their first ever king, made four decrees that govern the Raudra life to this day. These are the edicts as told to me by a very bright soldier named Tarsten.

“‘All of my children are born free, and no king, god, or demon may take that away.’ This is the most important of the edicts for the Raudra. It is the reason why they value not only their own freedom, but that of all their brethren as well. They still remember the price they paid for this freedom, and treasure the concept to this day.

“The second edict: ‘The society is a large, living thing, and the Raudra are only as strong as our society. If any aspect of our society is weak, the organism cannot survive strife.’ This edict is something of a double-edged sword. It divides the Raudra into classes. Each class has its purpose, and in theory, none stand above the others. But they have become rigid over time. A warrior would find it very difficult indeed to become a priest, or a philosopher. And although the classes are theoretically equal, it might not feel that way if you are a servant. Or anyone faced with a priest or noble. That said, this edict encapsulates the concepts of society and duty, and the Raudra seem to give it their all in their roles.

“The third edict is best summarized as ‘Our way is not their way,’ and it is in honor of the late Iakshas, whose customs were foreign to the Raudra. But their shared final battle against the great serpent showed them that different does not mean evil. The Raudra mourn the loss of the Iakshas, mourn the kinship that they never thought to kindle. In their memory, they preach tolerance to ideas not their own. More than once, they used this edict to excuse our inadvertent trespasses.

“Then last, but by no means least, is ‘Never forget your soul. Even if grief or anger or pain make it feel slippery in your hands, always hold to yourself. Never forget your pride and honor as my children. Never let the storm within take you.’ I believe this edict addresses the most troublesome aspect of the Raudra; their inherent affinity to the Dark Side. Although the evidence we have is circumstantial at best right now, we believe that all Raudra have a connection to the Force, but it is weak for the most part. It only shows itself at times of great danger. Or, in other words, when they were afraid or angry. The priest Aparajitha slew the feared Darth Bellicose with a Lightning strike from a clear sky. Rudra also killed the great serpent with a similar attack. These sound like an evolution of the same Force Lightning the Sith are fond of… yet the Raudra do not have a single instance in their history where someone who used the Dark Side was corrupted by it. I believe this is the reason. They are trained to remember their pride and their soul from their birth. Perhaps this is a sign that the corruption we fear is not a given. Perhaps there are those among the Sith who practice the Dark Side, but do not lose themselves to it. I do hope so. But I do not think I will be quick to try out my theory. I suspect few Jedi will.”

Vajra leaned back. “I remember these… The tale of Rudra was one of my favorites as a child. Me and my sisters used to love hearing Aparajitha tell us the story at supper.”

“They’ve always seemed so different from most cultures, at least to me.”

“It almost like the Jedi code.”

“Really? I thought it also had elements of Sith in it.”

“Sith?”

“You’ve heard the Sith Code, right? No? Well. ‘Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength, through strength I gain power, through power I gain victory, through victory our chains are broken. The Force will grant me freedom.’ The first edict makes the Raudra treasure their freedom above everything else. And the last one makes it alright to use passion and power, but just not to lose oneself in it. If anything, the edicts of Rudra permit a coexistence of Light and Dark.”

“I see.”

“But this is just the beginning. There’s a lot more to your people. Histories, folk tales, songs, beliefs.”

“I’m going to read them all,” Vajra said. “But I think I already have the answer I need.”

Jasme grinned. “I thought you might.”

Vajra gave her a nostalgic look. “Do you want to read me a story?”

“Would I ever!” Jasme said happily. “Which one do you want?”

“Let’s see.” Vajra scanned the list of folk tales. “The tale of the war goddess, Adi Shakti.”

“Excellent choice!”

*

[swtorpadawan]

Vitiate & Malgus : The Duty of a Sith to his Emperor

So I know some of you don't like the novel Deceived, and even more of you don't like the novel Revan, but i've picked up on some points I thought were interesting.

300 or so years before the class stories, Vitiate took Revan prisoner, keeping him in stasis and relying on him for visions of the future. (That's another can of worms, but whatever.)

Now Vitiate went to extreme lengths to imprison Revan in a place where - in theory - no one could get to him. He is the sole prisoner on a massive space station in the Maelstrom nebula, a place that could only be reached with the help of a Gree computer. So literally the sole purpose of this space station was keeping Revan.

(We literally have to do TWO Flashpoints to get to rescue him in story mode.)

So who does Vitiate select to oversee this super-secure space station that is so important to him?

The Children of the Emperor? Nope.

The Emperor's Hand? Nah.

The Wrath? Nay.

One of the Dark Council, the Sith who Vitiate had hand-picked to oversee his empire? Uh-uh.

Instead he picks THIS mother-fucker.

Ah, yes. Darth Malgus. The icon of the game since well before it even debuted. The Empire's champion during the last war. A cautionary tale to women everywhere about the consequences of marrying someone who might one day kill you if they think you make them 'weak'.

(Malgus, of course, effectively delegates the task to Grand Moff Rycus Kilran, but more on that another time.)

Now Deceived is largely told from Malgus' perspective, and at no point does he imply that he has any special relationship with the Emperor. On the contrary, he's frustrated by the levels of separation between himself and Vitiate.

We do know that Malgus spent much of the Cold War in the unexplored regions, expanding the Empire's influence. (Not terribly unlike what Palpatine had Thrawn do, but never mind.)

But it is unexplained why, out of all Sith in the Empire, Vitiate entrusts Malgus with such an important task as Revan's jailer.

(The simple explanation is that this is bad writing, and Malgus keeps showing up because he's iconic. This is probably the case. But heck with that. I'm head-canoning here.)

All of this shows an incredible amount of trust by Vitiate.

And yet - when the Voice is destroyed on Dromund Kaas, its Malgus who attempts to usurp Vitiate.

It doesn't work out for him, but still.

Years later, of course, we meet him again in Onslaught. Republic Outlanders get the following dialogue:

He doesn't say who he's referring to. He doesn't have to.

My thinking is that sometime between Deceived and the class stories, something happened where Vitiate entrusted Malgus with far more than he did with most of his servants. I honestly wonder if Malgus' coup wasn't done on Vitiate's orders.

I doubt they'll ever follow up on this, but it would have been cool if they had. @swtoraddict-blog​ @swtorhub​

[semper-draca]

Iustitia : Victory At Kuat

Cold, white lights shine through the Senate, casting the hundreds of booths in strange palor, neither fully shadowed nor fully illuminated. It’s difficult to make out the features of the other senators, the shadows darkening silhouettes, and one can only tell who is who so long as they’ve memorized which delegations sit where. Chancellor Saresh stands in the center of the massive room, the holo screens around her projecting her image so that even the senators far at the top of the room can see her perfect sabacc face.

The treaty is on the docket.

Tai Cordan, who has personally gone to Coruscant for this upon Celebris Iresso’s request to represent Balmorra, rises to his feet. The holos switch. The lights are on him. 

He prepares a tapdance.

[please-step-on-me]

Unsung Star Wars Daddy material:

Grand Moff Rycus Kilran (Star Wars The Old Republic)

One thick bastard and his voice is so fucking N I C E

[ffrecommendation]

Chapters: 47/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Malavai Quinn/Female Sith Warrior, Vette/Jaesa Willsaam, Male Smuggler/Risha Drayen, Felix Iresso/Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Male Jedi Knight/Theron Shan, Tremel/Quorian Dorjis, Male Bounty Hunter/Mako/Torian Cadera, Lucian Quinn/Kan'illene Characters: Female Sith Warrior, Vette (Star Wars), Jaesa Willsaam, Malavai Quinn, Lt. Pierce, Darth Baras, Rycus Kilran, Draahg (Star Wars) Additional Tags: pretty much all characters at some point, also including other playable characters, Canon-Typical Violence, Decapitation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Slavery, Slow Burn, really really slow this is gonna be a long ride guys, light side Jaesa, species-based discrimination, aka racism, Character Death, Dom/sub, Drunk Sex, uhhhh light torture, Inappropriate Use of the Force, inappropriate use of blasters, when i say slow burn i mean slow burn, Veers away from canon frequently Summary:

Gimrizh Korribanil was a ward of the Empire, raised to either become Sith or die trying. A newly made apprentice, her goal is simple; don’t die, and don’t let those she cares about die - no small task for a Zabrak orphan in the xenophobic Empire.

Malavai Quinn was working his way up the ranks in the Imperial Army before circumstances knocked him down, court-martialed him, and forced him into a deal with the devil to survive. An honorable, duty bound officer - now turned into a spy.

Around them, the tensions between the Republic and the Empire simmer just below the surface, threatening to engulf the galaxy in war once again.

(A slow burn space opera)

[mysterious-cuchulainn-x]

Character Bio: Talryn Starlighter

“Infinite diversity in infinite combinations.”

Full name: Talryn Starlighter

Appearance: Kiffar-Arkanian, 1.78 m, white hair, green eyes. Somewhat obscured is a burn scar across much of her right cheek, sustained during the Sacking of Coruscant. Unlike her toon, has pointed ears similar to some Arkanian Offshoots.

Born: 11 BTC / 3664 BBY, location unknown

Likes: History and philosophy, altruism, stubborn determination

Colors: Green, blue, violet

Food: Fish, spiced tubers, chocolate, most fruits she’s encountered

Drinks: Black leaf tea, Alderaanian wine

Dislikes: Violence, sadism, narrow-mindedness, Rycus Kilran

Family: Yuon Par (Jedi master, maternal figure), Syo Bakarn (stand-in uncle)

Fighting style: Talryn is, by preference, a diplomat and investigator, but is also a skilled practitioner of Niman with a particular affinity for the elements derived from Soresu and Makashi; she wields a single green blade.

About the Jedi:

Talryn came to the Jedi young, and was considered marked for greatness almost ass soon as she arrived; by four years old (per canon), she was considered as strong in the Force as reputable Jedi masters. This reputation and the associated expectations left her fortunately humble, even shy, although she also perforce developed a talent, or the roots of one, for dealing with other people smoothly.

On her eleventh birthday, however, the darkness and tension of which she had been dimly, abstractly aware made itself abruptly and murderously immanent with the Sacking of Coruscant. Saved by Master Kellian Jarro, Talryn was nonetheless scarred both mentally and physically, and her unyielding bond with her master, Yuon Par, has its origins in the archaeologist’s profoundly open and caring efforts to help her new padawan through that trauma.

Over the next ten years, Talryn grew into as much a model of Master Yuon as she could make herself: erudite but not doctrinaire, diplomatic but firm in her convictions, a warrior second but unstoppable on the battlefield, and above all an indomitable scholar of history in all its forms.

(The one thing that Yuon could never quite pass on is her appreciation for Qyzen: Although she would only say it to his face in extremis, Talryn considers trandoshan sentient-hunting culture an affront to basic Jedi values, and Qyzen in turn thinks of her very much as a “soft thing.” There’s not much connecting them aside from their deep respect for Yuon.)

Non-Star Wars Theme: “The Doctor Forever” (Doctor Who 2005, Murray Gold)

[keldae]

Esseles Aftermath

Wise Imperials (or at least Imperials with good self-preservation instincts) stepped very lightly when Grand Moff Kilran was in a bad mood. The Emperor’s Glory had been a very quiet ship for the past week, ever since the Esseles debacle. Unaccustomed to failure as he was, Kilran was in a foul temper, and taking it out on anyone who dared to even breathe wrong. 

Even a week after filing the report of his failure with Imperial High Command, and feeling the blow to his pride, Kilran couldn’t stop analyzing the entire incident, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong. It was Isirc’s fault, for not grabbing Asara and dragging her kicking and screaming back through the airlock when he’d had the chance. It was Ironfist’s fault, for taking his time in securing the Essele’s bridge and not tearing the ship apart to look for that damned Twi’lek. It was Vokk’s fault, for letting himself be killed by a bloody Jedi, who looked young enough to have worn a Padawan braid recently.

It was perhaps a little bit Kilran’s fault as well, for not taking a Jedi into his calculations. But she had been a last-minute addition to the passenger manifest, and one that his agents had almost missed themselves.

He stormed into his office near the bridge of the Emperor’s Glory, and almost had an aneurysm when he saw somebody sitting at his desk. “Who the blazes–?” he bellowed out as he reached for his blaster pistol. “How did you get in here without my access keys? And get your bloody boots off my desk!”

The stranger, an older human man in the garb of an Imperial officer, didn’t so much as budge his shiny black boots from Kilran’s meticulously-organized desk. He didn’t even take his gaze from the datapad in his hand.

“Did you hear me, soldier?” Kilran snarled. “I said–!”

“Oh, I heard you the first time, Rycus,” the man finally said with a smirk. “I daresay half the sector did.” He still didn’t take his gaze from the datapad. “But it’s such a terribly comfortable position.”

“You’ll find it far less comfortable with a blaster bolt in your skull,” Kilran growled, drawing his blaster. “I daresay even the brig is too good for you.”

The man tsked. “I wouldn’t go that far, Rycus.”

“It’s Grand Moff Kilran to you, soldier.”

“Yes, I heard. The Butcher of Coruscant, Grand Moff, that smug bastard… although I’m sure your mother would still call you Rycus if she were alive. You don’t mind that I know your name, do you?”

“I do mind it! I have a title and you will use it.”

“You also have two sisters, and an assortment of alien slaves, and some truly abysmal HoloNet passwords, and you had a pet flutterplume as a child. And you currently have two toxin darts and a blaster trained on you, and a security detail who regretfully is more afraid of me than they are of you.” The man finally looked up from the datapad and gave him a cold smirk that offered no apology. “As for me… you may call me Cipher Nine.” The smirk widened. “Ahh, good, you know where my title is from.”

Indeed, Kilran did know where the title ‘Cipher Nine’ came from. Even the Sith lived in fear of Imperial Intelligence. He would never admit to being afraid of the Empire’s spies, but he decided a little bit of caution would not go amiss. “... Please remove your boots from my desk, Cipher Nine.”

“And the man has manners. I’m impressed.” Cipher Nine lazily sat up, removing his booted feet from the desk. Even that motion seemed to radiate a deadly grace that made Kilran think of a Jedi. For a moment, Kilran could see the blaster pistol that had rested across the agent’s lap, before the weapon was holstered on the other man’s leg. “Do take a seat – this conversation may take some time. I expect you know why I’m here?”

Quietly fuming, Kilran dropped himself into a seat on the wrong side of his desk, facing the intruder from Imperial Intelligence, who seemed to be quite at home in his seat. The only way this day could get worse would be if the next person to walk into his office was an angry Sith. “Yes, and I have redoubled my efforts to capture Ambassador Asara. Rest assured, she will be neutralized.”

“Asara?” Cipher Nine snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “Dissidents and rebels are never in short supply. Even if Asara is neutralized, another will rise to take her place. It’s a never-ending struggle. I’m here on a different matter connected to the Esseles.” He set the datapad down on the desk, showing the still frame from the Emperor’s Glory’s security camera footage – the face belonging to the young woman, or perhaps still a girl, who had so neatly foiled Kilran’s plans. “Tell me about this Jedi.”

“The Jedi,” Kilran spat out, letting his composure slip for a moment of getting across his anger with the little brat. “She was a late addition to the passengers on the Esseles. I wasn’t even aware of a Jedi presence until my ship was coming out in hyperspace on top of the other vessel–”

“I’m not interested in excuses, Rycus,” Cipher Nine interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “Tell me how this Jedi managed to hold off a boarding party, override a security lockdown, kill half a clan’s worth of Mandalorian commandos, and sabotage your own ship in the space of less than two hours.”

“... She must have gotten very lucky,” Kilran finally said. “It’s the only possible explanation.”

“Luck? In my experience, there’s no such thing as ‘luck’. The Jedi certainly don’t believe in it.” Cipher Nine leaned back in his seat, eyebrow still up to his hairline. “What do you know about the Jedi?”

“... My agents identified her as one Xaja Taerich,” Kilran said, gracing the innocent datapad with a glare. “Freshly Knighted less than a week before she boarded the Esseles.”

“And so full of potential already,” Cipher Nine mused. “She is a new Knight, new enough that Intelligence doesn’t know a great deal about her yet. But I can confirm that she was Padawan to one of the Jedi Council, her homeworld is Lavisar, and she will have additional reason to come after you, when she does more research on you.” He smirked at Kilran’s questioning look. “She was a Sacking survivor. She escaped the Jedi Temple on Coruscant while it burned. When she hears that you were one of the commanders of that force that decimated her home as a child…”

“A Sacking survivor…” Kilran mused as he looked down at the datapad again. “She doesn’t look old enough to have memories of that.”

“Our sources say that she’s only seventeen standard years of age.” Cipher Nine leaned back in his – Kilran’s – seat, smirking in amusement. “You were outwitted by a teenager who isn’t even old enough to legally drink in the Republic for another year yet. How does that make you feel?”

Kilran scowled before he could master his reactions. "She's an impertinent, cocky, smart-mouthed brat of a Jedi. I'm sure it won't be long before she crosses a Sith Lord and gets put in her place… in an unmarked grave."

"A snarky little Jedi, but still a Jedi. And the Sith who had been stationed on this ship didn't fare well against her." Cipher Nine seemed highly entertained. "I'd almost like to meet her, just to say I met the seventeen-year-old who bested Grand Moff Kilran. Intelligence is making bets as to how long she lasts before slipping up and getting herself killed."

That made Kilran frown. "What did you bet?"

"I'm afraid if I told you that, I'd have to kill you." Cipher Nine’s smile was cold. "But the general range of the betting pool gives her anywhere from a week to a few years."

"I hope your bet was on the lower end of the spectrum," Kilran said. "Rest assured, I will turn my extensive resources to apprehending this Jedi before she can become even more of a nuisance."

"Capture her alive," Cipher Nine directed as he lazily got to his feet. "I would like to meet this kid before she mouths off to some Sith and gets herself killed."

"I can't make any promises as to her status when she's eventually apprehended," Kilran warned. "She doesn't seem to be wise enough to accept capture without a fight."

Cipher Nine smirked and gestured to the datapad. "And she's smart enough to make you work for it, whether you want her taken alive or dead. Still, if you can, take her alive. There is a list of people who want to meet her, the teenager who managed to outwit you."

"She managed it once and got lucky in doing so," Kilran muttered. "I can assure you, it won't happen again."

"We'll see." Cipher Nine chuckled and started strolling out of the office. "My money is on at least one more incident of public humiliation for you before she gets taken down."

Kilran seriously debated shooting the agent in the back, before thinking better of it. Best not to earn Imperial Intelligence’s ire for executing one of their best agents… even if this bastard deserved it. "Whose side are you on? You sound very sympathetic toward this Jedi brat."

Cipher Nine just looked back and smirked. "Just because I'm a loyal servant of the Empire doesn't mean that I can't be amused by a plucky little Jedi." He turned his gaze forward and resumed his leisurely stroll from the office. "For the Empire, Rycus."

"It's Grand Moff Kilran to you!" Kilran snapped at his back, and only got a chuckle for his trouble.

--------------------------------------

One day, Reanden would learn to not irritate every high ranking Imperial officer that came across his path. But it was just too easy, and such fun, to get under their skins and drive them mental. Kilran had been a particularly fun target.

And the subject of their little chat… Reanden had another datapad securely on his ship with the entire incident report in minute detail. The captured security camera footage gave him the first look at his little girl that he had been given for years. Xaja had successfully finished her Padawan training and become a full-fledged Knight of the Jedi Order, and at such a young age… Airna would be so proud of their daughter's achievement.

Hell, Reanden was proud to bursting of his baby girl. But he couldn't exactly strut around the Empire and radiate his pride in his hidden daughter's accomplishment. 

That said, he could definitely stroll about with a little smirk on his face for a few paces. An Imperial Intelligence asset with a pleased smirk was a sight to make most Imps go scurrying as far away as they could get. 

But, now he had other things to do beyond tormenting Kilran for his own amusement. Balmorra was his next stop; he started angling toward the hangar where he'd left the Shadow, and Kaliyo. He had an Empire to sabotage from within, and a Republic to bolster. And he still had two sons he needed to find, if he could. At least Xaja is safe for now, until Kilran gets her in his sights again. Worry about your boys and your job. Your daughter at least is safe on Coruscant. You can't do anything for her here.

But he was definitely going to keep himself apprised of her actions in the future. The betting pool at Intelligence was a real thing, and he'd secretly made a bet for several years in the future, refusing to consider any alternatives for his daughter. And the pool was only going to get higher, the longer that Xaja lived to be a nuisance to the Empire. Reanden fully expected to be able to fund his retirement off his winnings from that betting pool.

[inquisitorhotpants]

Hii, do you happen to have made any organizational charts of then sith military? Sort of like, how the fleets are organized etc? The new Onslaught expansion had definitely made me curious on how the Empire actually manages its resources. Also, these swtor prompt ficlets were amazing!! :)

thank you!  :D

So this is all gonna be very slapdash and not very well organized, but here we go with at least an *overview*. :D

The Sith Empire’s military’s largest designation is the Fleet, First Fleet through Fifth Fleet. Fifth Fleet is the home fleet, commanded by Rycus Kilran (or whoever succeeds him if you have him die - I do not lmao). I don’t have a lot broken down from there because I haven’t needed it, but we can definitely do a quickie runthrough.

I work a lot of the Imperial military much like the Marine Corps, because it’s what I’m most familiar with, with a few changes. The Marine Corps’ largest dividing structure is Headquarters Marine Corps, the Operating Forces, the Supporting Establishment, and the Marine Forces Reserve.

Headquarters Marine Corps would be analogous to the Ministry of War, with a little overlap with the military spheres of the Council. It’s the absolute tippy top brass. (In terms of most folks in the military, HQMC is this basically nebulous concept that sends down stupid rules that we don’t like, like the tattoo policy the Marines implemented in 2007. Besides it’s all officers and everyone - ie, all enlisted folks - knows officers don’t do shit. xD )Operating Forces is a very overarching designation for regional commands with multiple services in it. In US terms, it breaks up the whole of the globe into five main commands. Its equivalent in the Sith military would be the Fleets I referenced at the beginning. 

The US is covered by US Northern Command, or USNORTHCOM, and its Sith Empire equivalent would be the Fifth Fleet, the one that guards the home triangle of Korriban, Dromond Kaas, and Ziost.The Marine Corps breaks down its commands within the Operating Forces breakdown, but that’s very service-specific, though the Army and the Navy would both do so within the Fleet structure, another thing I’ll probably tinker with once NaNoWriMo is over.

Supporting Establishment is for literally everything else - everything we consider “the military” in popular culture, extra duties like recruiting or drill instructor duty, etc. Basically, your average Jane is not going to be concerned with HQMC or Operating Forces, pretty much ever. You won’t ever hear “oh I’m getting transferred to the Fourth Fleet.” It’s always going to be the direct base, planet, or ship (in the case of the Navy) that they’d be transferring to. So while a Marine might go, “Fucking A, I got orders to Barstow, I asked for QUANTICO on my request!”, someone like Pierce would be like, “Goddamn it, they’re sending me to the Adamant? Even I’ve heard their chow hall sucks and the commander loves early morning inspections.”

The Reserve is self-explanatory, though I’ve greatly expanded its role in the Sith Empire. In the reserves for the Empire, everyone trains, everyone continues to be as battle-ready as they can, because the Sith have lived with this cultural fear that the Jedi are coming to eradicate them for millennia. If you aren’t active duty, you’re Home Guard. 

Once you get past this main structure, you get a lot of room to play around. In RL, you get into what the Marines call the MAGTF (Marine Air Ground Task Force). These are the largest Marine-specific organizations outside of the Fleet Marine Force designations (what I referenced a couple paragraphs ago about the breakdowns within the Operating Forces), and are put together for specific missions and dissolved when that mission is over. MAGTFs are organized so that the Marines are ready to go with everything they’ll need at a moment’s notice - ground, air, and logistics. Within the MAGTF there are smaller designations, from expeditionary units (smallest) to expeditionary forces (largest). This is how I see a lot of the Sith Empire’s deployments working - you pull together what you need and go on a mission. 

For example, in Onslaught (and I’ve only finished on my JK so I could romance Scourge, so I’ve only seen it from the outside so far), you have both the iso-5 and the Silencer fleets turn up. Aside from that mainly being so SWTOR can reference stuff you’ve already done, these ships likely wouldn’t be just palling around together. Thus, seeing what was going on and remembering what happened with Corellia last time, what likely happened is that the commander of the ... whichever fleet it is I assigned to closest to Corellia was like, “we’re going to put together this, and this, and this, based on our intel on what the Republic is going to bring to this fight.” The plan for Corellia had to have been in the works for some time, but the benefit to being able to bring together a force quickly because you already have detailed information on where each of these units are is that you can mobilize quickly. 

Given their history with the Republic, the Imperial military would place great emphasis on being mobile and fast-responding. A lot of emphasis would be placed on being mission-ready, having all training up to date, not dragging around a bunch of broken gear, that sort of thing. Lots of drills, lots of training exercises, etc. 

that was .. not short at all, sorry.  xD hopefully it’s at least a little help. :D

[sunsetofdoom]

11, 12, and 15 for Jerin? sorry for all the questions, i just.... love your ocs

*starts crying* I’m... fine.... this is so nice to hear....

11- Bad or petty habits

Jerin has a lot of stress about bills. It comes from growing up poor and fielding calls from bill collectors (and then the gang thugs who took over the utilities places after the chaos of the invasion of Coruscant) at a young age, while her dad was completely non-present. 

And the Republic, Coruscant in particular, is really not set up for an active-duty soldier to hold down an apartment. There’s non-residence fees and notices and all sorts of bullshit that comes with “yeah sorry if you’re just not gonna live here for nine months out of the year, we’re going to make it a huge fucking hassle.” (Unlike the Empire, which is pretty much DESIGNED to have an active-duty-military population, the Republic is more concerned with profit.) Plus, running Havoc means that Jerin is really hard to even find. She gets ‘your bill is due!’ messages about two weeks late, because she’s at the fuck-all end of the galaxy.

So she’ll forget or fail to pay stuff, and then have a shame spiral about it, and eventually Elara will just have to pick up on it and pay the bill plus the late fee, for which Jerin ALSO feels ashamed, and picks a dumb argument because of the anxiety.

Elara is very relieved once their relationship has progressed enough that she feels comfortable just... taking over their joint accounts and putting every single damn thing on autopay. Every. Single. Thing. Plus elaborate security systems to take out any wandering bill collectors. (Elara considers this a service to the Universe.)

12- Grudges and vendettas

Rycus Fucking Kilran. 

Jerin was *mumble-*teen years old when she watched Imperial troops watch through her streets during the invasion, watched Imp propaganda pieces with his smug fucking face plastered everywhere. When she gathered her two younger brothers close and prayed they wouldn’t run out of food and have to venture out, try and find some way to stay alive with Sith on their streets, active fighting in her alleys, and a curfew in place.

It is her life’s ambition to break his goddamn jaw. “I’m just a kid from Coruscant,” in-fucking-deed.

15- What it takes to make them cry

Jerin is a shockingly easy crier for someone who had the upbringing she did. It drives her nuts- between Mirialan cultural valuing stoic calm, and her training as a whole-ass soldier, she shouldn’t tear up so easily. Thank fuck for helmets. She hides her face a lot.

The threat of losing anyone on her squad- any mission where one of them is injured or out of contact- is a sure one, but also shit that reminds her of her childhood can bring up the waterworks. Luckily, it’s a delayed reaction and they don’t start until the mission is over, but she typically finds somewhere to hide before a debriefing so she doesn’t embarrass herself.

The first time she kissed Elara, she was crying because Elara dropped out of contact on a mission and she was just so relieved to have her back safe; Jerin meant to be quiet, hiding behind the door of her quarters, but she hadn’t locked it and Elara came in to deliver a report. The kiss was just... relief and stress and nerves, all fumbling and trembling. It was gross. It was clumsy. It was stupid.

It was also perfect.

[therron-shan]

origins

3655 BBY

Saleucami was just about one of the worst planets for a Cathar, or so Jocah was quickly discovering.  He wore next to nothing - the white shirt he’d had beneath his captain’s uniform tucked into the regulation grey pants - yet the heat was still stifling.  Shade seemed to be nonexistent on this starforsaken planet, or maybe just in this small corner where he’d crashed the shuttle.  Either way, he hated it.  His empty water bottle clinked against his thigh as he walked, sand crunching beneath his boots.  The nearest mechanic shop just had to be on the outskirts of this tiny town.  After he’d already walked maybe a hundred kilometers from the shuttle wreckage.

Why couldn’t I have been shot down somewhere nice, like above Naboo?

Jocah banished the thought from his mind.  We’re not thinking about that.

He continued walking, past the shops and homes, and kept his head down.  Saleucami wasn’t all that close to the Core Worlds but it was close enough that someone might recognize him.  Or at least his uniform.  And if anyone put two and two together -

Stop.

The mechanic shop popped into view and Jocah picked up his pace.  Maybe it’d have some water, some form of air conditioning.  Food.  One could only hope.  It was a white building with several open doors and windows and no one seemed to be inside.  Jocah stepped through the main entryway and sighed a bit.  No air conditioning.  No food or water that he could see.  But on a small table tucked in a corner sat a small holoprojector showing the news.  The anchor had a grim look on her face as a photo of a very familiar Thranta-class corvette appeared beside her.

Jocah’s heart dropped.

“...tragedy today from the Outer Rim, as the war continues.  Republic warship the Sunrunner was shot down yesterday by Imperial captain Rycus Kilran, in the atmosphere above Saleucami.  After a sweep of what remains of the vessel, Republic Navy officials have confirmed that all aboard the Thranta-class corvette were killed in the attack, including the young Cathar captain Jocah Myriik.  While Captain Myriik’s body has yet to be recovered, officials do not believe he survived, nor do they believe that he is a prisoner of war at this time.  The captain had been promoted only two months before and had a long, prospering career ahead of him.  The twenty-eight year old is survived by his parents, several siblings, and a fiance on Coruscant.  Families of the deceased have been notified, officials say, and funeral plans are underway.  There is talk of a posthumous promotion for Captain Myriik, as well.  In other news, the Galaxy’s Choice Awards are being held this weekend…”

He could still hear the shouts, the alarms shrieking in his ears.  The Runner shaking violently, creaking, screaming like it was alive, explosions overhead.  The fearsome Terminus-class Destroyer outside the viewports.  None of the drills at the war college had ever felt like that.  Panic and terror and crying and gasping for breath because I’m going to die.  Telling his first mate he was heading to Engineering to check on the status of last week’s shield repairs.  Going left instead of right, to take the lift to the hangar bay.  Hands shaking, tears in his eyes, pressure on his chest and heart and stomach as he booted up a shuttle.  Telling himself if you stay you die.  If you stay you die.  If you stay you die dammit move that kriffing shuttle.

And now they were all dead.  Elys, his first mate.  Doctor Fering.  That runty kid from Engineering, the one who liked building droids.  Verrick.  Verrick Fel, who couldn’t have been any older than twenty.  Verrick Fel, who was going to build the best damned starships the galaxy had ever seen, once the war ended.  Verrick Fel, who was now dead.  They were all dead.  And Jocah should’ve been with them.

“Son?  Son, are you all right?”

Jocah came back to himself.  To the present, in the mechanic shop on Saleucami.  He looked up into the kind, withered face of an old woman behind the counter.  She was Twi’lek, with soft blue skin and gentle eyes.  And Jocah realized his mouth and eyes were wide open.

“Can’t believe that happened here,” the woman was saying as she busied herself.  “I don’t have any issues with the Republic but if they bring their war here…”  and she sighed, shaking her head.  Brown eyes met his.  “What can I do for you, kiddo?  You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He shook his head to try and clear it.  “Uh - sorry.  Didn’t sleep last night.  I’m - new to the planet and someone told me you were hiring.  I’ve come to apply for the job.”

She gave him a onceover and nodded.  “Yeah, all right.  We’ll talk.  What’s your name, kiddo?”

He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it.  Jocah Myriik was dead, and if High Command found out he was still alive… he’d be arrested for deserting.  At the very least.  Come on, think of a name.  You’re coming off creepy.  And then it came to him.  He took a breath and tried his best to smile.  “Verrick Fel, at your service, ma’am.”

The way his favorite engineer always said it.

//

So basically I wanted to write a tiny thing about Verrick’s backstory.  He was born Jocah Myriik, into a well-off Cathar family with a proud Republic Military history.  He deserted his men when his ship was attacked by Imperials and he took and crashed a shuttle to the planet below.  Eventually he leaves Saleucami for Nar Shaddaa and sometime after that, he becomes a smuggler.

[starwarstournament]

WHO WOULD WIN? Grenthean vs Ph’ton (Round 2)

Grenthean (Star Wars: The Old Republic) (Wookieepedia)

Grenthean was a Human male Sith Lord of the Sith Empire living during the Galactic War. At the time of the Battle for Kuat he was present aboard Vaiken Spacedock, from where he contacted Admiral Zasha Ranken over the holoterminal. He tried to put Ranken in her place by reminding that she no longer had protection of Rycus Kilran, but was interrupted when Lord Krovos Force-chocked him over his rudeness and briefly put him out of consciousness, allowing Ranken to address more capable Imperials present.

Armor: Sith Armor

Weapon: The Force

Ph’ton (General Grievous 1) (Wookieepedia)

Ph'ton was a male Bith Jedi Master who served the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic as a General in the Grand Army of the Republic during the Clone Wars.

Armor: Jedi Robes

Weapon: The Force, Lightsaber

ARENA: Felucia Jungle

Vote Here

Full Bracket Here

[swtorpadawan]

The Fall

Shadow Games: Chapter One

Lurking in the shadows, behind the scenes of the great events of the galaxy, secret forces are gathering strength. When the time comes, they will strike, and the entire galaxy will tremble.

Author’s Notes: The following chapter takes place during ‘The False Emperor’ flashpoint. Includes some canon divergent material.

Malgus was falling to his death.

The infamous Sith, the Empire’s champion, the greatest warrior of his generation and – he was certain – very nearly the undisputed leader of a reborn Sith Empire, had known defeat before.

But it was different this time, he knew.

The last few minutes should have been a blur. Yet for Malgus, he remembered every second in excruciating detail.

He had been so close…

The strike team had barged into his throne room while he’d been in the midst of a massive naval battle. If Malgus and his New Empire could crush the Republic fleet in orbit over Ilum, that victory would grant him the credibility and momentum he needed to topple the Dark Council and to finally destroy the Republic once and for all.

The Jedi Barsen'thor, the Commander of Havoc Squad and some meddling smuggler captain and their small entourage – six combatants in total – had engaged two-dozen of his finest soldiers from his new Imperial Guard.

Malgus had ignored these meddlesome individuals. Given sufficient time, he had no doubt he could have wiped them out.  

Of greater interest to Malgus had been the presence of Lord Scourge, the personal executioner of his predecessor. For whatever reason, Scourge had conspired against his old Master, had betrayed the Sith Empire, and had no doubt aided the strike team in reaching Malgus’ inner sanctum. The former Emperor’s Wrath was rumored to be three-hundred years old. If he had ever known defeat, it had not been during Malgus’ lifetime. He now – begrudgingly – joined the other six in fighting his guard.

But even this powerful Sith Pureblood was merely a secondary concern to Malgus at this point. It was the eighth member who had drawn his focus.

Halcyon.

This young upstart had bypassed the guards and had come directly at Malgus, an aggressive approach the Sith Warrior had not witnessed from a Jedi in decades. Malgus remembered Halcyon’s victory over Grand Moff Rycus Kilran at the Maelstrom Prison. Although he had eventually turned that fiasco to his advantage, Malgus had nevertheless been impressed with the young Jedi. Halcyon was the immediate threat. Once he had fallen, he could deal with the other interlopers. Once they had fallen, he could deal with the Republic fleet. Once the fleet had fallen, then the galaxy itself would be within his grasp. And if he could claim to have killed the one who had struck down the old Emperor, no one among the Sith would dare challenge him. Malgus had, of course, heard the stories from Dromund Kaas. True or not, those reports were the reason he had stepped up his timetable and claimed the throne.

The Sith Empire required strong leadership, tradition and oaths of loyalty be damned.

The duel with Halcyon had been brief, as Malgus had anticipated. The outcome, however, was unexpected.

Malgus had, years earlier, met and defeated the best the Jedi Order had to offer. Kao Cen Darach, Ven Zallow, Satele Shan – each had been a legendary champion of the light. Darach and Zallow had met their ends by his lightsaber, while Shan had been forced to flee from him at Korriban. Her later victory on Alderaan had only come when Malgus had been distracted by the heroics of some foolish Republic commando. Malgus had never doubted he would have slain the Jedi Grand Master once and for all had they ever met again.    

He had gone into the fight with no doubt that he could best this whelp. This upstart. This so-called ‘Hero of Tython’.

He had not anticipated Halcyon’s power. He had not anticipated Halcyon’s skill. He had not anticipated Halcyon to have somehow known Malgus’ own combinations in lightsaber combat and seemed ready to counter them.

He had certainly not anticipated banter. Few Jedi bothered to speak while fighting, and nothing in his reports regarding Halcyon suggested that he was known for distracting opponents with that tactic.

Looking back, Malgus realized only now that he had been set-up.

Halcyon had not fought like Halcyon. He instead had adapted his tactics specifically to challenge Malgus. His maneuvers, his positioning, even his words. And it was clear he had studied the notorious Sith Lord carefully. Just when Malgus believed he had finally gained the upper hand and would slay this Jedi the same way he’d slain Zallow on Coruscant years ago, Halcyon’s left saber had unexpectedly turned, evading the killing stroke and impaling Malgus through the chest. After that, simple momentum had seen the Sith Lord plummet down the reactor shaft even as the station – the dreaded Emperor’s Fortress – had been rocked by a series of explosions as the self-destruct command went into effect.

Only now was it clear to him : Inexplicably, Halcyon had studied Malgus’ fight with Zallow from twelve years prior. He had no idea how, but it was clear the Jedi had carefully prepared himself for this fight, possibly over the course of years.

Enraged though he was by this realization, part of Malgus felt impressed.

Perhaps this end had all been of his own making. Perhaps a generation of Jedi and Republic defenders born into the horrors of the Great Galactic War were prepared to do what their predecessors could not. Perhaps Malgus himself had helped create Halcyon and his ilk. The resolve of this generation of so-called Republic champions was profound.

Perhaps that would be Malgus’ true legacy. Not in forging a new Empire, but in forging Republic ‘heroes’ who were not plagued by the weaknesses of their fellows.

It was a strange thought. Appropriate only in the moment of one’s death.

And then – suddenly – there was nothing. He wasn’t falling any longer, nor had he collided with the reactor.

Malgus instead found himself plunged into darkness. He might have wondered if he had finally died. The pain was the only indicator that he still lived.

For the first time in his life, he felt weak. Even the injuries he had suffered on Alderaan that had damaged his lungs had been nowhere this severe.  

And then, unexpectedly, a voice cut through the darkness.

“Rest, Lord Malgus.” The woman’s voice slithered over him like a snake’s skin. “Our master still has need of you, even now. Though it may take us years to rebuild you, you will rise again.”

Malgus attempted to answer. To demand his rescuer identify themselves. But unconsciousness was rising to swallow him.

“And on that day, your true service can begin.”

Author’s Notes: Those of you who’ve read the novel Deceived are aware that Malgus’ duel against Ven Zallow on Coruscant – the subject of the original SWTOR trailer – was recorded by Teeseven. If you think Corellan hasn’t watched it dozens of times, then you don’t know Corellan.

In terms of the showdown with Malgus, I head-canon that each of my four OCs brought one companion with them while the others secured the hangar for their escape. Ulannium Kaarz brought Qyzen Fess, Bas’riish brought Bowdarr, Illaynah Antilles brought Elara Dorne and Corellan – obviously – brought Scourge. More about all that another time.

More on the voice in the darkness in future chapters of this series. We won’t be seeing Malgus again for a while, but we will be seeing much more of her.

Also - This is a screenshot of the actual reaction shaft:

[semper-draca]

Iustitia : The Grand Moff 

Oren examines the latest information they’ve got on Karagga’s comings and goings. Which is nothing, the Hutt doesn’t go anywhere. Mostly they’re looking at who goes into his palace and who comes out, rather than the guy himself. Mako’s a great slicer and she’s been able to get a ton of info, but their ace in the hole, as it were, has turned out to be Nem’ro. Few years back, Oren had a bit of a friendly rapport with Nem’ro, and it turns out the Hutt has been secretly pulling for the Empire for some time now and is totally down to kick out Karagga. 

The other surprising addition to his team has been Tivva, Vette’s older and angrier sister who’s been hanging around since their first failed attempt to kill Karagga. 

“I’ve been analysing those ID cards we collected last time we tried this,” Mako is explaining, leaning over the holo map and chewing on the remains of a fish stick skewer. “I should be able to piece together a few convincing forgeries - There’re a bunch of repeating patterns when you take a closer look. Nothing that’ll pass a close inspection though.”

That might end up being a problem. Oren frowns at the map. “They’re on relatively high alert after the first attempt. I don’t think even a few months of no activity from us will be enough to fully calm them down. We need another way to pass inspection.”

[systemic-dreams]

My friend: *refuses to play swtor even though they very clearly have an interest in star wars EU*

Me: *remembers the words of Grand Moff Rycus Kilran*

I don't want to do anything drastic... but I will... >.>

[mylife-foryours]

oc questions for tali’kime

she’s a totalitarian space theocrat but I still luv her

How old are they? 19 during the Sith Warrior prologue, 23 when she becomes the Emperor’s Wrath.

What gender are they? Female.

What is their romantic/sexual orientation? (Vague wobbly hand gesture)

How tall are they? 5′4

What do they look like? Average height, but she looms, and seems a lot taller than she is. Her skin was a golden yellow, but extensive Dark Side corruption has bleached it to a sort of pale grey.

What are their defining features? Full lips, extensive Dark Side corruption.

Does their name have a meaning? Taken separately, her name elements (Talik and Me) mean “destiny/fate” and “fiery/burning”. Combined, the best translation would be Ragnarok. Her mother was... a very dramatic woman.

What family do they have? Her father is a second cousin of Rycus Kilran; not much in the way of Force-sensitivity, but still a prestigious family that wants absolutely nothing to do with an illegitimate alien child, Emperor’s Wrath or not. Her mother was a Twi’lek slave & former resistance fighter, and I’m not sure if she’s still alive.

Do they have a good relationship with their family? Not so much.

If not, why not? As said before, she’s the illegitimate alien child of a prestigious military family. She’s embarrassing by virtue of her existence, and the fact that she’s succeeded really only makes things worse, because she can’t just be ignored.

Where do they live? Her Fury.

Are they poor, middle-class or wealthy? Proooooooobably fairly wealthy? She definitely isn’t getting any money from her family, but I assume that the Emperor’s Wrath is paid pretty well. In any case, the point is pretty much moot - she’s a Space Ascetic. 

Who is their best friend? Vette. in the Entropy ‘verse she also gets along fairly well with An’Dante, at first because An’Dante did such a good job concealing her heretical leanings, but eventually they become genuine friends. Very eventually.

Do they have any enemies? Lots. Most of them are enemies on principle/by virtue of faction, tho. Nomen Karr was personal, sort of, but he’s dead now. 

Who is the person they hate most in the world? Used to be Nomen Karr, but he’s dead now. Then it was Draagh (before the Quesh incident, actually - the idea of Baras having another apprentice hit her right in the inferiority complex). After that... probably Arcann?

Do they have any love/hate relationships? ...Not off the top of my head?

Have they ever fallen in love? Mmmm.

Who is the person they love the most in the world? Depending on the playthrough, Quinn or Jaesa. In either case...

Does that person love them back? Yes.

Have they ever hurt or lost anyone? Hurting people is her actual, literal career, but in terms of like, emotionally hurting people that she personally knows. Hmm. Probably projected a lot of her internalized speciesism onto Vette in their early acquaintance, & there’s also the whole “murdered Jaesa’s parents in cold blood” thing.

Are they a good shoulder to cry on? Not really. She doesn’t have much experience with Feelings, and she goes very cold as a defense mechanism. She might sort of... robotically pat someone on the back, but she wouldn’t take her gloves off to do it.

Are they well liked? She’s feared.

How do they handle being complimented? Not very well - she treats even casual, friendly compliments as a performance review, and picks over them for hidden criticism for weeks after the fact.

Are they an affectionate person? Not especially. Not physically, at least.

Are they very driven? Oh, definitely. She’s a full-on antipaladin.

Are they very political? Not exactly.

What kind of state is the world that they live in? Not so good.

What are the world leaders like? Bad. The one that she works for is the worst of the lot.

Does the character worry about their place in society? Not especially. She’s largely oblivious to Sith power plays, and as the Wrath she’s largely above them.

If the could change one thing, what would it be? She’d probably want to be able to speak directly to the Emperor the way his Hands do, both because she’s a capital-Z Zealot and because she projects her paternal Issues onto him.

Do they like themselves? She doesn’t think of it in those terms, but no, she doesn’t.

Are they a good person? Not as such.

Are they very forgiving? I’ll put it this way: she was glad that Draahg kept coming back, because she got to kill him again.

Do they believe in destiny? Mhmm.

Are they trustworthy?... More or less?

Are they a good liar? No.

How do they react to criticism? Passively accepts pretty much whatever is dished out.

What is their moral alignment? Lawful Evil.

Can they fight? Yup.

Would they ever purposefully hurt someone? Uh...

Have they ever been seriously injured? On a regular basis,

Do they know first aid? Nah, she’s got Quinn for that.

Do they have any other survival skills? Nothing beyond brute strength & sheer stubbornness.

Are they a fast learner? Not so much. Per the Juggernaut ethos, she’s more of a “slow and deliberate” type.

How intelligent are they? Not... extremely. She isn’t stupid, but she’s not very good at abstract reasoning or anything academic.

What is the school system like? Bad. I mean, we’ve all played this game, yes? It’s Bad.

What is their job? Emperor/Empire’s Wrath.

Do they enjoy their job? Unfortunately, yes.