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Topics - Rivoso

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Holocrons and Info Nodes / What Goes Around...
« on: 02/06/18, 01:20:00 AM »

With the crisp air wafting down from the Alderaanian mountains, it was difficult not to pause and breathe it in. Despite the hurried nature of his errand, Ensign Nottewell fell victim to the enchanting breeze, the cool air filling his lungs as he closed his eyes, bringing about a refreshed feeling over his troubled mind. It was when the young officer remembered the datapad in his hands that his eyes snapped open once again, his pace briskly carrying him on once more. He stood tall as he walked, trying desperately to appear as though he were on official business while his legs began to ache as his strides proved to be just a bit too long.

If it wasn’t for the illicit nature of his errand, Nottewell might’ve taken a few moments longer to enjoy the orderly nature of House Thul’s main grounds, paired neatly against the magnificent snow-topped backdrop that the towering mountains provided. Yet, he’d already wasted enough time. More than he should have. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, hastily wiped away by his sleeve as he turned a corner, legs quickly vaulting him up the stairway before him. With a quick check of his chrono, the ensign darted around another turn, heading straight for the modest cantina that was his destination.

Several minutes passed after Nottewell had gotten a table, his fingers tapping anxiously against the datapad he held in his lap while he directed his gaze towards the entrance every few seconds. Something felt off, as the contact he’d been instructed to meet was supposed to have been where he sat already. With a slight tremble in his hand, the ensign reached for his glass, downing the rest of its contents very hastily before setting it down with a loud clunk. The ensign let out a shaky sigh, doing his best not to let the anxiety swelling up in his chest take control of the situation.

The effort was menial at best, given that the ensign nearly fell out of his seat when a figure sat down across from him unannounced. The clothing he wore was reminiscent of his contact, yet the face was entirely different. Gray streaks of hair weaved through black, combed back in a casual, almost bedraggled fashion. Most notably though was the cybernetic eye, Imperial design given away by the piercing scarlet glow that emanated from it’s center, and the perpendicular scars that lay underneath.

“Y-You’re n-”

“Not your contact? ‘Fraid not.”

The stranger smirked slightly, pulling out a small device and placing it on the table between them before leaning back quite comfortably in his chair. His gaze, while appearing quite casual, sent a shiver up the young Imperial’s spine. Something was definitely not right.

“Now then,” the newcomer began, “Nottewell was it? We’ve been tracking you for quite some time. I must say, I’m rather disappointed honestly. Tell me, what are you doing here exactly?”

Nottewell could feel his ears burning, the lump in his throat nearly cutting off the air from reaching his lungs.

“Meeting someone.” he murmured.

“For what purpose, exactly?”

“Trading station schemat-”

A hand came up instinctively, nearly knocking the datapad it had held to the ground. The fact that the ensign nearly blurted out an answer so easily made his eyes widen in fear.

“Come now ensign, trading schematics? They wouldn’t belong to the Empire now would they?”


“Tsk. That’s a shame. And your contact, SIS I’m guessing?”


The stranger shook his head, letting out a sigh as he leaned forward. When he looked at the ensign once again, the casual facade had all but disappeared, replaced with a damning glare the bore right through the young man.

“It seems your situation has taken a turn for the worse, Ensign.” a low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he spoke, “Sith Intelligence is on the way, and I can promise you that what they’ll do to you is far worse a fate than you can imagine right now. Afterall, the traitors the bring in don’t tend to see daylight ever again..”

Nottewell let out a shaky breath, this is not how he imagined this meeting would turn out. His fingers flexed and unflexed while he stared back at the mysterious figure.

“That said, seeing as you’re young and nothing more than a fool, I’m willing to give you an out.”

The Stranger slipped a hand into his coat, pulling out a small holdout blaster and placing it on the table.

“There's enough power in the cell for one lethal shot. Do yourself a favour and use it.”

The explanation was a chilling one, requiring no further elaboration. Nottewell went pale, his eyes staring down at the weapon, completely ignoring the other man as he stood up and left.


The crisp, cool air swept up into a light breeze as Rivoso exited the cantina, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. He had missed Alderaan, to some extent, as it had often served as tranquil haven in his early service days. But that had been years ago, now, the smell of the mountain air brought back bittersweet memories of colleagues long gone and rivals now forgotten. The Agent ran a hand through his hair as he casually strolled away, the sound of a single blaster shot followed by several screams bringing a menacing smile to his lips. His holocomm chirped once before he unhooked it from his belt,

“C’mon Rivvy what’s the hold up?”

“I had to buy the kid a drink first. It was the least I could do.”

“Sheesh, aren’t you the generous one..”

“Leslie, you and I should both know it better than anyone. He was lucky I found him first.”


Several droids held a perimeter around the cantina while a small group of Imperial troopers moved about within. It had only been about twenty minutes after the incident occurred, just enough time for Sith Intelligence to show up. A trio of agents followed behind their leader, Watcher Thirty-Five, who’d insisted upon seeing to the scene personally. Sharp blue eyes took in the scene before him, gazing at the corpse that lay atop the dining table. Without a word, he held out a hand, an agent quickly retrieving a datapad and placing it within the outstretched fingers. On it’s screen was a picture of the former Ensign Nottewell, accompanied with a list of information along its side.

The Watcher’s brow rose slightly as he scrolled along the screen, his gaze focusing on the list of suspected crimes that popped up with small warnings.

“Can we confirm this?” he looked to one of the agents.

As if on cue, one of the troopers handed over the datapad that the former ensign had held. As it powered up, the Watcher turned his attention to the trooper.

“What about witness testimonies, did anyone see who he was meeting?”

“Yes sir. Witnesses report a man with a scarred face and cybernetic was sitting at the table with the victim.” the trooper traced a finger along his helmet in the shape of the scar described, moving from brow to jaw, and then another overlapping line across the cheek and nose.

A frown formed on the Imperial’s lips, his brow furrowing tightly into a scowl. Already he had his suspicions, but a small part of him was hoping he was wrong.

“Sir? We also found this on the table.”

With a low grunt, the Watcher turned and took the small device in hand, his thumb pressing the power button quickly. The small text that appeared on the screen made him curse under his breath. ‘Still playing by the rules, Watcher? -R’. It was enough to make his face go red, fingers curling tightly around the small device until his knuckles went white. For the former agent in question, the Watcher knew that making his presence known so blatantly was nothing short of deliberate.

This is the third time in a row, why come out of hiding now?!

Storyboards / Dancing with Ghosts
« on: 09/20/16, 01:58:43 PM »
((A continuation of Amongst the Shadows))

Several busy weeks had passed since the Narigus mission, and still the images from the his nightmare filled his mind. The markings of exhaustion were made all the more evident as Rivoso continued his endless work. Most days he could be found in his personal office that sat within the personal estate awarded to him by the Grand Duchess of Nistia. The elegant structure crested a hilltop which offered a view like no other over the regal Nistian capital, though this proved nothing more than a distraction for the busy mind within.

The duties that required his attention with regards to his royal advisory position were kept light and often menial. The position he carried was nothing more than a formality used to obscure his true influence over the Duchess Javar, who many years ago had been a simple protege placed under him by a Sith Lord. She had been planted within the nobility five years prior, right before he’d been arrested and jailed within the confines of the infamous Shadow Town. It was uncanny how she had managed to become the Grand Duchess during his jail time, a thought which often made him chuckle when time allowed for such reflections, but had proved more than useful for the ever conspiring man.

He finished typing up his report before approving it with his signature -’Commander Midwan’- and sent it on it’s way to  the council. A sigh escaped from his lips and a weary hand rubbed his eyes gently, his body wished for rest yet his mind raced with the issues that pervaded his every thought. The horrors of the Warlord Aatrac were a grave threat, nearly gone unnoticed by the self-interested views of the Republic and Empire both. Without the invisible network of eyes and ears interlaced within the galactic community at his disposal (courtesy of the enigmatic Valkyrie), it likely would have been ignored and thus allowed to grow into a more malevolent force for the Shadren Hegemony. This brought on an entirely new train of worries, seeing as the small contingent of warlords under the Valefor’s banner and now been absorbed and united into the new yet fastly growing royal faction.

If the threat of a easily controlled and highly contagious biological weapon wasn’t enough, the thought of a Sith Lord who had found a way to weaponize the dead themselves was more than enough to cause the hairs on the back of his neck to rise. The Force had always been a difficult entity to combat, especially to someone ungifted in it’s use, though adaptations to such foes had always been a specialty of the former Imperial agent. But a newly corrupted avenue of it’s use would be even harder to combat, let alone investigate. How does one fight the intangible? Can the process of reanimation be reversed? Are the dead still aware of their chilling new fate? These were just some of the questions that continued to cycle throughout Rivoso’s brain.

He stood from his desk, sliding his chair in neatly before his fingers reached for the small obscure button that lay beside the console. The near-silent pneumatic hiss of the hidden door came from his right, and he entered the elevator which led to the hidden base of operations below his estate. The soft blue glow of computer screens and holographic displays welcomed him as he took his place on the small balcony which overlooked it all.

Get Penumbra on the line.

A few moments passed and the familiar face of the special ops agent appeared before him.

I’m going to be handing off the containment of the Narigus virus to you. You’ll have all the appropriate resources required for such a task, and we’ll continue with the synthetic deployments as there’s been no new progress on a vaccine.

Rivoso took a deep breath in as he disconnected from the brief call, flexing his fingers and arms before letting them reside behind his back, clasped together in a formal fashion.

Connect me to the Valkyrie.

Another few seconds passed before the holographic display updated. The blue light took form to construct the helmeted figure clad in his usual long coat, holding his arms in a similar fashion.

Emissary, always a pleasure.” he offered a nod in greeting.

Rivoso returned the gesture, making it a point to hold a firm and proper posture.

Indeed. I’m informing you that I’m placing Penumbra in charge of the Narigus containment operation. With his background in covert military operations, he’s the most suitable candidate other than myself.

Oh? And what might be the reason for such a change?

Truthfully, it’s regarding the Shadren Hegemony. There’s no doubt you’ve heard of the action taken by the Empire in response to the Belsmuth sector. The coup is a worrying sign, indicating that the Hegemony is now a faction to be regarded with care and trepidation, particularly due to their fondness of a rather unnatural use of the Force. I’ve already met with the Undermoff and his wife in order to warn them of the true nature behind the Hegemony’s strength; as well as Firaxan who’s stationed on Dromund Kaas.

I see. Didn’t you meet with her royal majesty Vedriat at their wedding?

I did. I approached with a proposition of trade between Shadren and Nistia, which could serve as our way in.

And I can trust you can find a way to discover what their inner workings are like without consequence falling back onto the Nistian people?

Of course.

Then you have my approval. I’ll be sending an operative to Nistia within the day for you to utilize, given that your Force signature has now been recognized by the queen herself. His codename will be ‘Lorn’, and he will take care of any insurgent action that must be done should it be required. Valkyrie out.

The hologram dissipated, leaving Rivoso alone in the room with the twinkling lights of computer screens and console inputs while the protocol droids monitored the data. As quickly as he had entered, he made his way back to the elevator and back up to the estate. Perhaps rest could be found now that they were finally taking action with the new player that had entered the arena.

Very simple. You do all the hard work. I just help you along.

Holocrons and Info Nodes / Amongst the Shadows
« on: 03/20/16, 09:18:40 PM »
So this is going to take place after the full five year timeskip with flashbacks to fill in the gaps from the Gentle Reminder thread.

(Music Cue)

A cool breeze wafted across the balcony, a lone figure garbed in an official looking black uniform stood looking out at the sun that rose over the Nistian landscape. One hand was tucked under the opposing arm while the other held a steamy cup of caf, sipping at it’s warmth with a tentative appreciation. After a few more minutes of watching the golden light spill over the landscape, he turned and strode slowly through the large doorway that led into a lavishly decorated hall. Tapestries hung serenely along the way, and his boots padded softly along the smooth carpeted floor. He took a left into a large office, decorated with a private archive, pictures of Nistian cities and a crest that squared itself behind a large desk. Smoothly he walked past the grey metal desk, his hand sweeping by a vase that held a single blue rose, and pressed a small button which resulted in a small click to be heard on the wall to his right. Without losing a step he made his way over, pressing a thumb against a small green pad which after a moment revealed another small device. He leaned over, allowing it to scan a solitary green eye before it would accept his identification. Both devices reverted back into their unseen state while a small section of the wall slid open to reveal a secret elevator.

Another tentative sip was taken as he stepped onto the elevator, turning to watch as the wall would close up behind him and his descent would begin. It was quiet, tranquil even as the elevator worked it’s way down what could only be multiple stories below the ground. Finally the doors slid open and he strode out, making his way down a coolly lit hallway which lead him to another set of durasteel doors. They parted ways as he approached, opening up to an auditorium which housed several databanks, multiple computer terminals, and every means necessary to run a modestly sized intelligence operation. Upon his entrance a protocol droid of Imperial design offered a headset in silence before making it’s way back to whatever duties it had before.

A deft flick of the wrist and the headset was secure enough, the earpiece crackling to life as he made his way to a small balcony which overlooked the whole operation. In the center of the room lay a map of the galaxy, which began to cycle through the various planets of the Republic, Empire, and Hutt jurisdiction alike, all accompanied by their according Star Fortresses.

Bring me up to speed, have there been any new updates?

The status of the fortresses are all the same sir, it seems no one has dared to attempt anything with them as of yet.” A young woman offered, though her gaze stayed focused on the screen before her.

Not to our surprise. Have we gotten any reports from our contact within the Valefor?

Not yet, we’re still cycling through the various frequencies he might use.

Typical.” He scoffed before sipping at his drink, “Anything with regards to the Custodum and their potential activities?

None yet sir,” a man spoke up this time “Ever since the incident on Coruscant we’ve been unable to hear anything about them.

Mmm. I’m not surprised as that was their home that was attacked after all.” Fingers drummed against his mug for a few moments before one of the analysts broke his moment of contemplation.

Still nothing on the Mimid case sir, it seems she’s vanished as well. We can keep the channels open bu-

No need. We can consider that case closed now. I received confirmation that she was deceased as of a few years ago.

Of course.

If that’s all then.” Another deft movement of the wrist and his headset came free of his ear, he turned towards the doors and began to make his way out.

There is… one other thing, sir.

A pause in his steps, his head tilting ever so slightly before he turned back to the analysts with a curious gaze.

Well, ‘Hotshot’ reported something that we were unsure what to think of. Something about an ‘Outlander’ or whatever that is, we didn’t know whether the name had any significance to you or not.

Outlander?” Steam wafted upwards around his nose as he took a sip, taking a moment to digest the new name. “No.. I don’t know anything with regards to such a name. Tell him to keep an eye on whoever or whatever that may be.

Yes sir.

And with that he strode out, making his way back to the serene sight of the balcony once more.

Holocrons and Info Nodes / A Gentle Reminder
« on: 09/18/15, 10:43:55 PM »
Take us in M4.

Rivoso stood behind the pilot’s seat as the droid brought the ship towards the docking bays, a stern gaze directed outwards to their path. A hand rested on the head of the chair, fingers tapping a slow rhythm as the ship was brought in further to the awaiting bay. A few moments and then the all too familiar shudder of landing greeted him and his mechanical crew.

With this he turned and made his way into the common area of the ship, adjusting a few buttons on his uniform and grabbing a datapad off the terminal as he passed. He paused momentarily as he ran a hand through his hair before heading through the corridor that led to the exit.

The ramp extended before him, granting access to the spaceport that lay beyond the metallic confines of the Phantom cruiser with a rush of slightly stale air. Not even three steps off the ramp he paused in his step, eyes darting up to a small envoy of Imperials. There were seven men, one garbed in a formal black uniform decorated rank and accolades. The others demanded the majority of his attention. Their armour was sleek, black as obsidian and much higher tech than standard military armour.

Agent Varnheim, or would you prefer your more recent title, Commander?

His eyes locked on to the man in front. He stood around the same height, clean shaven save for what looked to be a meticulously kept goatee. His hair was a deep chestnut brown and his eyes shone a bright blue.

The man’s face looked to have a moment of illumination at the Commander’s hesitation.

Ah, yes, you’re wondering who I am. Moreover, if you’re trying to think on how to get out of this. Don’t. It will be far more tedious for the both of us, I can assure you of that.

As the agent spoke, the armed escorts had circled around to surround them, weapons raised and trained on Rivoso.

As they moved, Rivoso watched them like a hawk observing prey, eyes switching from one figure to the next, examining their movements before his eyes leveled on the lead agent.

I’ll admit, I always wondered when this meeting would occur.

His hands were raised to his sides, resting in the air in an unthreatening manner.

Yes, well, given the recent events, Intelligence has been far too busy to concern itself with chasing down rogue agents. Though a mercenary becoming an Imperial Commander within an Intelligence initiative, now that warrants question would you not agree?

Green eyes narrowed as he watched the blue eyed man.

How long?

Ever since you rose to Colonel.

The agent chuckled, the slight hint of a smirk showing behind his beard.

After running a facial scan through our archives, suddenly your success and expertise all made sense. Attaining the rank of Captain before twenty-eight, drafted into Intelligence and then stationed in the Moirae? An impressive record. Shame you had to ruin it all.

Rivoso’s lip twitched into a slight snarl, brow furrowing at the man opposite of him.

I did what I had to do.

Yes I’m sure you did. There’s always a point in time where Agents think they become above the law.  Somehow high enough rank to not bother about the systems and rules set in place. Able to get away with defying Sith ruling, an interesting trend don’t you think?

And yet lives have been saved, tasks have been done that few others could achieve. It’s almost as though it’s in the job description to not fit the rules exactly as they’re stated.

Do you really think that will hold up? You play by the rules Rivoso, or you don’t play at all.

Suddenly one of the armed soldiers that was behind the Commander lurched forward, delivering a sharp crack with the butt of his rifle, causing the man to crumple into an unconscious heap.


 “.....keep the sedatives ready, this one is crafty…

The words seemed to echo from a long ways off, gradually coming closer and into to focus as he stirred in the chair. Everything was a haze as his mind restarted itself. He sat slumped in the chair, having enough clarity of mind to not move. The back of his head pulsed steadily, almost overwhelming his ears as he became aware of it all the more.

What do you plan to do with him?

He deserted his station, the punishment for that is execution, My Lord.

His brow furrowed ever so slightly. Sith. As if a well informed agent wasn’t enough.

I see. His record is… impressive, despite its blatant disregard for protocol. Too useful to be put to death.

Of… course, My Lord. I’ll find alternative arrangements then.

His brow furrowed as he listened, what sort of alternative arrangements were yet to be seen. Though he was unsure as to whether or not being kept alive was a good or bad thing at this moment in time.

It seems the Captain wishes to join us. Question him as you see fit, I shall be observing.

Yes my Lord.

Rivoso raised his head, blinking blearily and looking about as he tried to get a bearing on his surroundings. He tried to move his hands, only to be stopped by the restraints that held him to the chair. He glanced downward, noting the ankle restraints as well.

Captain, so nice of you to return to us.

The Watcher sat opposite of him, folding his hands atop his lap as he leaned back into his chair. Behind him stood two men garbed in the same sleek armour as the enforcers from the spaceport.

Wouldn’t dream of making you wait too long.

He popped a smirk, only to be met with an armoured gauntlet grasping him by the hair and slamming his face into the table with a loud smack. His forehead began pulsing and he groaned as the hand let go of him just as quickly as it had grabbed him.

Three guards, one watcher, single Sith observer.

Captain, I’m going to advise you to keep your wit at a minimum. If you’d like this to go smoothly, you know what to do.

You think a little rough housing is going to deter me? You obviously don’t know a thing about me, you sure you did your homework?

This time the chair was pulled out and a strong hook connected with his jaw from the soldier behind him, toppling him and the chair over onto the ground. He let out another groan, subtly glancing up at the watcher and two guards in front of him.

Three pistols, two rifles, panic button under table.

The guard that stood over him grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and shoved him back into his seat. A small dribble of blood began to fall from the new formed split in his lip.

Captain, we can do this all day if you really wish. Though that would be wasting both your time and mine.

Normally one buys dinner before getting to the ques-

Another strong fist connected into his jaw, this time the opposite side. The force dazed him for a few moments before he shook his head, spitting some blood to the ground.

Excuse my poor manners then Captain, I prefer to stick with traditional methods. Now, you’ve been rather busy as of late, tell me, what have you been up to?

Oh you know, catching up with friends, going for drinks, kriffing women, the usual.

This time the fist connected with his stomach, causing the wind to be forced out of his lungs. He doubled over, eyes staring at the floor as he tried to get his lungs to bring in air once more.

Come now Captain, you needn’t lie. I know about your investigation into one of our agents. A ‘Lakesh Mimid’? I hope that rings a bell.

Finally the air rushed into his lungs as he glanced upward, looking through some strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead.

Ah yeah, Lakesh. She’s an interesting one.

Any particular reason as to why you did so?

He managed a slight shrug.

Don’t you like to background check your associates?

And it had nothing to do with a holocron?

What? No, what would I do with one of those?

Another fist greeted his stomach and he let out another surprised grunt of pain.

As I said, Rivoso, we know what you’ve been doing, there’s no sense in trying to hide behind deception.

He managed to respond after the air came back to his lungs faster than before, a low voice through gritted teeth.

Well what the kriff are you asking me for?

The Watcher leaned forward, an amused look on his face.

Why, to see just how extensive your disregard for your own well being goes. I initially thought you were an imbecile, now I know that you really are one.

Rivoso rolled his eyes, spitting out some more blood from the corner of his mouth.

Good one, they teach you that gold in basic?

Again the hand grabbed him by the hair and smashed his head into the table. He winced, the entirety of his face scrunching up as he could feel the pain pulsating through his body.

Why were you investigating the Albaegoth holocron?

It sounded… like a threat. Thought I’d look into it. You know, like any agent would.

His green eyes locked on to the blue orbs that seemed to shine with amusement across from him.

Is that so? Just simple curiosity?

Not the answer you were looking for? I could say something else, but you’ll probably have your friend here hit me.

A casual shrug, though it was followed by a tenseness for the blow that did not arrive.

I believe it.

The Watcher sat back, letting out a slight sigh.

Why did you leave in the first place? Were you unable to cope with the unsurmountable failure of defending the Moirae installation on Belsavis?

Something flared behind the emerald gaze for the briefest of moments.

You mean being caught up in the bureaucratic side of things and being unable to help?

So you abandoned them?

Are you deaf?

This time the blow came, swiftly and solidly into his jaw once again. He fell to the ground this time, the room spinning around him in a daze.

You abandoned your associates near the time of the attack, that sounds quite suspect.

Check… the timestamps of the reports I handed in, it was around the same time.

Oh, you mean the reports we never received?

Rivoso glared up at him, eyes flashing with anger as he was forcibly propped up in the chair once more. His hair flopped down in front of his face though the eyes shone through, causing the Watcher to shift ever so slightly.

What do you mean never received them?

The demeanor had completely shifted with that venomous tone. Any indication of humour was all but gone now, replaced with a cold anger.

What I mean, Captain, is that the reports were never filed.

I handed them to Intelligence directly. I was in the Citadel with the datapads in my hands.

Mm.. yes. I suppose they got lost within the bureaucratic chain. A pity really, I did enjoy reading them over. You ought to watch your syntax more..

Rivoso could only furrow his brow, his gaze getting more intense the longer he fixated on the Watcher.

So as far as anyone knows, you are nothing more than a deserter, Rivoso. A traitor in the eyes of the Empire.

You did it, didn’t you?

The Watcher brandished a vibroknife from a sheath the agent must’ve missed on his brief examination. He began to twirl it about his fingers in a slow, casual motion as he inspected it’s edge.

Now what proof do you have to follow such an allegation? The bureaucratic system is not perfect as you and I both know. Mistakes happen from time to time.That still does not address the price you should pay for such a glaring action of treason.

He stood up, a malicious glint appearing in his eye as he came around to the other side of the table, dragging the tip of the blade ever so slowly across the metal tabletop.

Now, I cannot kill you as I am under orders. But what I can do is give you a reminder before imprisonment. Something that you’ll feel everyday to remind you of what happens when you fail.

Rivoso watched his every move as he made his way over, glancing at the knife and then to him with a defiant gaze. Even when the hand grabbed him by the jaw and moved his head from side to side, his green eyes stayed locked on the malevolent blue orbs that inspected him.

You really ought to have played by the rules, Captain. Play by the rules and you don’t get hurt.

With that the soldier from behind grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, holding him in place while the grip that held his face stiffened. His eyes flicked between the Watcher and the blade, pupils widening as he saw the tip come ever closer to his face. His breathing quickened and his heart rate rose, the thumping of blood overpowering any other sound save for the bloodcurdling scream that erupted from his lungs as the blade gouged out his eye. He squirmed desperately to break free, pain, fear, and hatred all mixed in his cries. The Watcher seemed to grin slightly as he then made two lacerations across the mutilated eye socket, one going from the cheekbone up past his eyebrow, the other moving horizontally over his nose. The blood began to flow over his features, mixing with tears that had begun to stream down from his untouched eye.

When the Watcher finished, he leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

Consider that my thanks for making my life hell.

With that he stood straight, pulling out a cloth as he began to clean the knife.

Load him into a shuttle and take him to Shadowtown. Let him bleed for sometime before patching him up, let the lesson sink in.

And with that he turned and walked out, leaving the three soldiers to collect the wounded man.

Holocrons and Info Nodes / We Are the Varnheims
« on: 08/17/15, 01:25:09 AM »

Fifteen years…

Her eyes opened suddenly, causing a sudden gasp of air to be taken in before it was let out in an exaggerated groan. She rubbed her eyes before slowly moving to sit up in her bed, bangs covering her face as she sat there in the dark room.

Fifteen years I’ve been on my own…

She shook her head, eliciting a groan before she slammed her head back into her pillow and brought her blanket over her in a huff. A few seconds ticked by before throwing the blanket off and spinning her legs out over the side, setting them down tentatively on the cold metal below. With a stretch she stood up, making her way through the dark room towards the restroom. A wave of her hand made the sink activate, allowing her to cup the warm flowing water before splashing it on her face.

I wonder if he’s alright…

The thought caused her to look into the mirror, piercing green eyes staring each other down. Her brow furrowed and a look of contempt began to etch it’s way onto her features.

Of course he is. Probably some big shot in the military…

Slender fingers brushed her hair down, covering the burn scars that were just above her left cheek bone. She shivered slightly as she touched the uneven skin, causing her to shut her eyes momentarily as she relived that moment from so many years ago…


Heat. Why was there heat?

The young girl stirred slowly, the force of the explosion had been enough to render her unconscious for a few brief moments. Little hands tried to push her small frame up, only to collapse underneath her. There was pain, as though she had been thrown.

She tried to look up in her delirious state, long black strands of hair obscured her vision. What she did manage to glimpse was hell itself. Fire raged everywhere in the Kaas city apartment, and two adult figures lay limp on the floor.

M-Mom? D-Daddy?

She crawled over, letting out a slight cry in pain as the burns began to make themselves known. A seared patch lay above her left cheekbone, a steady throb and sting beginning to overpower the numbness of confusion she had felt before. She continued through the pain, one small hand dragging her forward, followed by the other until she reached the figure of her father. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she tried to shake him once, twice.

Daddy please! Wake up! We have to get out of here!

Her tears began to fall as she looked at the limp form, yet she kept shaking him as best she could, trying desperately to wake him up. When it became clear to her that he was dead, she crawled over to her mother.

Mommy please! Please wake up! Please please please!

She was sobbing now, tears flowing as the fire raged around them. Then, her mother stirred slightly, coughing and sputtering up blood.

R-Ruko.. sweetie… you need… to go… find your br-brother…… f-find Rivvy….

The young girl’s eyes went wide as she watched her mother slip into death before her. It was only the sound of creaking metal that made her look away, realizing that she had to get out. Slowly she rose to her feet, her legs wobbling treacherously beneath her as she tried to make her way out. Smoke clouded her vision and was strong enough to nearly make her retch throughout the incessant coughing and unending tears. She brought her arms around her as she walked, the heat feeling so overwhelming to her as she did her best to avoid the flames.

Finally she made it to the back entrance, reaching up to hit the button for the door only to let out a cry of pain from the searing hot metal. She was bawling now as she clutched her hand, rushing out the now open door into the alleyway ahead. Her lungs were greeted with fresh Dromund Kaas air and she inhaled shakily. She looked around, brushing the long messy hair out of her eyes as she tried to figure which way to go. With a look to her left she saw two masked figures clad in brown, running at her. She didn’t care. She turned and started walking towards them with her wobbly legs, tears streaming down her face as she sought refuge with someone, anyone.


The woman winced as she looked back at her reflection, eyes filled with anger and regret. She hadn’t even noticed she was gripping the sides of the sink until her knuckles went white.

He abandoned me, didn’t even come looking…

She grimaced some at the thought. The only family she had left hadn’t even bothered to come and look for her. It caused her to close her eyes, inhale deeply and then return the hard stare at the reflection of herself. Her fingers came up tentatively and began to trace the spiraling tattoo that covered her right profile, following the outline all the way up the side of her face.

I don’t need him. It’s just me now, it always has been.

Holocrons and Info Nodes / All In a Day's Work...
« on: 04/26/15, 09:17:31 PM »
((suggested music:

It was still early in the morning, no later than 0630 Zythian time when he made his way down the ramp of the X-series cruiser. He looked about the hanger, locating the exit in the foreign bay. It was the first time in a while that it hadn't been his own ship that he had spent the night, let alone an eventful one like that. With a deep breath he began to make his way towards the elevator, his shoulders relaxed though his stride filled with purpose. He shook his head slightly in disbelief, surprised in himself that he'd found his way into this situation.

Avoiding conflict. That's what I've done all these years, so why now? I'm slipping.

He furrowed his brow at the thought, not amused by the ramifications that it held for him. He hit the button that would take him to the main floor of the spaceport, crossing his arms and staring at the floor as he continued his thoughts.

Was she really lying? Or had I hit the mark?

His attention was broken by the sound of the doors opening. Before they opened fully he was already past them and making his way towards the main area, taking a right up the ramp and out to the Zythian cityscape. As he walked his face remained contorted in thought. He was disturbed. Disappointed. Thoroughly intrigued.

And now I have to deal with his demands, risk my life and limb all for the sake of his petty games.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a snarl, he had no like for the man in question now. Twice now that man could have killed him, leaving himself helpless in his grasp where the only resistance he could feasibly give were glares of defiance and the frantic clawings of someone trying to grab an untangible foe. He continued on his course, a quick and agitated pace as he turned a few corners and made his way to the Administrations building. He flashed his clearance to the guards posted in front without so much as a look in their direction, making his way up to the armoury.

This is stupid. I shouldn't have gotten myself mixed up in this.

He opened up a durasteel footlocker that he kept for himself here, quickly and methodically changing out of his clothes and into a fresh pair. He folded the used ones neatly and set them on top of the locker before turning to the armour rack. His normal allotment of gear was not out of place, a good sign. Piece by piece he slipped the gear on, first the kevlar jacket and leggings followed by the plasteel breastplate. As he put them on he checked every inch, ensuring that there was no damage of any sort that would compromise the entirety of the suit. With a nod of satisfaction he slipped off the casual pair of gloves in exchange for the usual padded pair. Quickly he'd check over the pouches and ensured each held it's corresponding item before he made his way over to the far corner terminal, quirking his head at a datapad that had been placed there.

The target list no doubt.

He scowled at the pad as he picked it up, scrolling along the list of targets he was going after. The most notable thing was a small excerpt at the bottom, stating what appeared to be caveats of some sort.

"My only requirements for you 'Commander' are these. Either engage these targets in melee combat, or if you find yourself afraid to do so.. Slice their pathetic heads off their shoulders once you dispatch them."

Upon reading the conditions, his face twisted into a scowl of disgust.

Of course there had to be strings attached.

With that he walked back over to the workbench, picking up his mask and downloading the datapads contents to the visor computer that was attached. Upon finishing the download, he disconnected the pad and slipped his mask on, tapping a few buttons on the side as the Heads Up Display became alive. He then turned to the weapons rack, picked up his favoured sniper rifle and stalked out the door, slinging the rifle over his shoulder.

Time to get to work.

Holocrons and Info Nodes / Hauntings of a Soldier
« on: 02/20/15, 09:47:19 PM »
((So this is going to be my first real attempt at writing a forum story. It'll be centered around my toon Rivoso        [now known as Jak'sito publically], who has a lot of mystery around due to IC blah blah- basically, I've kept lot's of secrets about him since it's fun to do so. So this will give a glimpse into what's going on in his mind/what happens when no one else is around all while following his exploits on the planet of Zythia. So yeah! Here goes nothing! :scared:))


Two figures stood in the middle of the hallway, both of which seemed unaware of their presence. Rivoso held up a fist and the young private came to a halt behind him, glancing about nervously. Two fingers went up, followed by a gesture indicating their direction and then one of their distance. The Colonel - a rank given to him by the Neo Zythian Paradigm and continued with the new Governors in place gave a reassuring look to the Private, nodding his head at him before he turned to stealthily approach the pair.

"... and that's when I hit the trigger, blew those damned Imps skyhigh!"


Noise and clumsiness were two damning traits in this hellish place. It's numerous pedways and cold steel halls could carry sound for quite the distance, to wherever a resistance patrol or Imperial scout team could hear. The Spider Web as it was called took it's nickname from both Imperial and Republic troops stationed in this sector, mostly due to advanced scouting teams having the nasty habit of never reporting back.

Rivoso crouched low, sticking to the ever hungry shadows as he approached. He scooped up a small pebble before he halted, no more than ten feet away. He could see their weapons, basic rifles, pistols and a vibroknife. Standard equipment for a guerilla soldier.

With a flick of his wrist he sent the pebble flying down the pedway, brandishing his own knife before the pebble skittered to a stop.

"Eh? What was that?"

They both turned towards the source of the noise.


Quickly and quietly he emerged, keeping a low profile first before slowly matching their height. He wrapped a hand around the face of the closest target, muffling the gargle that was made as his knife plunged into his throat. Just as quickly as the first man crumpled to the ground, the knife was now buried in the base of the other rebel's skull.

Slowly he lowered the body to the ground, barely any noise being made as he brandished the knife out of it's bloody sheathe.

"Wow sir... That was impressive." the Private whispered.

"Come on, we're nearly back now." Rivoso would nod, matching the tone with his own hushed voice.

They continued onward, crouched low and their heads on a swivel as they made their way through the treacherous maze that was The Web. Every so often they'd halt their progress, listening to blaster fire and explosions in the distance before they continued.

Eventually they found themselves at the entrance to an exposed pedway. And again they halted in place. The bridge was worn from a few shells that had found their way into it's path, leaving holes and craters along the edges. It held it's own against the war going on around it, though by no means offered any protection to those who decided to cross.

Rivoso adjusted the scope on his rifle and began to scan the buildings in the immediate vicinity, examining them for any hint of another who may be in search for a target like himself.

This is dangerous. Go around, take the long way.

He shook his head lightly, going around would only lengthen their time out in enemy territory. Taking this route shaved a solid two hours off their expedition.

A glance behind him would see the Private, deftly copying his lead in the scanning for danger. A slight smile found it's way across the Colonel's lips, one of both approval and comradery. It had been the Private that volunteered to accompany Rivoso along on this scouting mission. Despite his usual insistance of operating alone, he relented and allowed the Private to follow him.

"Sir, I'll make the first run."

Rivoso eyed him for a few solid moments before he nodded.

"Keep low, stay fast-"

"Don't let 'em shoot your ass." the Private cut in with a smirk.

Despite the dirt and soot on his face, his adolescent features were still evident. He couldn't have been more than the age of eighteen, and a month out of the marksman academy.

Rivoso nodded with a slight chuckle,

"Yeah you got it. Go on then, I'll see you on the other side."

The Private nodded eagerly before he set up in a crouch, glancing to the open skyline to his left and right. He seemed to count under his breath before he pushed himself into a full sprint, his feet pounding against the metal bridge underneath him and bounding over the small craters.

And then he lost his footing, spinning around as a large hole had materialized in his armour, just under his chest. he hit the ground with a solid thump, gasping as he tried to catch his breath, though no air found it's way into his lungs. His hands immediately went to the hole, tentatively touching it only to reveal a crimson sheathe that covered and dripped along his fingers.

Rivoso blinked once and then immediately snapped his gaze into his scope. He trailed the smoke of the shot to a small window about four stories up. A glint of a rival scope shined in his view and in that moment he fired. The enemy rifle toppled over the edge, clipping a few outcroppings as it began it's descent to the ground below.

Immediately he was on his feet, rushing over to the wounded soldier and slinging the rifle over his shoulder.

The Private had begun convulsing from the shock of his wound, growing pale as a small pool began to form around him.

"Keep it together private! It's barely a scratch!"

Rivoso had already pulled out the field kit, digging through the supplies in order to find the small viles of Kolto and the bandages. He poured Kolto over the wound, applying a bandage that rapidly took a soppy, crimson hue. Another bandage with the same effect. He kept doing this until all the bandages were atop the wound, ceasing the flow of blood to that of a mere dribble.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry s-sir, j-just couldn't r-run f-fast enough." the Private whimpered.

"No no no, you did just fine soldier, you'll get back in one piece! I promise!"

The colonel gripped the Private's hand as he whimpered, tears now streaming down the young boy's face. His focus was broken momentarily as he looked back, a multitude of foot steps could be heard echoing down the hallways behind them, all of which seem to be coming towards them.

"G-go s-sir, Y-you n-need to g-get back."

Rivoso looked back to him, sternly talking back in a raised tone

"Nonsense! I'm not leaving you behind!"

"I-I d-don't think y-you have a c-c-choice sir."

The Private limply tried to bring up his pistol.

"T-tell the g-guys that I d-did well, c-c-could ya s-sir?"

The Colonel sighed, more out of frustration than anything.

"It was an honor serving with you Private."

"Y-you as w-well s-sir, ya f-filthy m-merc!" at this he gave a weak smirk as he looked up at the masked Colonel before he did his best to focus on the hallways behind them.

Rivoso broke into a run, quickly rounding the corner that led back to the Imperial outpost. Two blaster shots rang out and around the metal halls, and then only the pounding of his feet against metal could be heard.

Holocrons and Info Nodes / A Slow Descent
« on: 06/13/13, 06:25:36 PM »
Footsteps echoed through the ship. Slow and steady they proceeded. It had been no more than three hours since Rivoso had been discharged from Imperial Intelligence's care. He grasped his head, a dull throbbing sensation pounded away against his ears. He felt.. wrong. Alone. Isolated. He had been grafted into an experimental Czerka ship, one that had been testing a new kind of mental piloting system of which had some success. Force ghosts, zombie like droids, everything had nearly gone to hell. He stopped his pacing, leaning on the wall as he grasped the side of his head, wincing in pain. The events ran over in his head repeatedly, every thought provoking another stabbing sensation somewhere in his brain. He had ripped the device off of a corpse, weakening the said Ghost and had replaced it's place in the seat. Everything about the ship, exhaust ports, electronics, security systems, service droid remote access, everything had been downloaded into his brain. All of that information became an Invader, thrusting itself into his mind. He pushed off the wall now, stepping into the main foyer, stopping just inside the door frame. It had been three weeks he spent with Intelligence, slowly coaxing him, preparing him to seperate from the ship. But it had become a part of him, and he to it. Again a sense of loneliness and isolation came over him. He shook his head before heading towards his quarters.
"You. . ." a voice whispered.
He whipped his head around, something or someone had said something. Impossible. His eyes scanned around the foyer as he slowly twisted his body, looking for the source. A few moments passed and there was nothing but the sound of the engines humming and the electronics beeping. He pinched the bridge of his nose "I'm fine... Just some residual thoughts...". He turned and continued towards his quarters. Perhaps some rest would do him good.

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