Back in the New Sith groove

[Raif]

It had been a long year for Royston Spektor.

Well, technically speaking, it had been a long 14 months, 2 weeks, 3 days and 17 hours. But who was really counting anyway?*

The Sith Master stood staring out of the small window of his cell at the jungle foliage which surrounded the prison he occupied on this unknown backwater of a planet. He gripped the bars of the window with one hand while running his other hand through his thick, luxurious man-beard. Every now and again he let out a high-pitched peal of laughter, seemingly for no reason at all.

Yes, to any outside observer Royston Spektor would appear to be...what's the scientific term? Oh, yes, I remember now: bat shit crazy.

The ruse had worked well for him so far. Though the Jedi did not know him, nor his standing within the Empire, when they captured him during the attack on Empress Teta, they still obviously saw in him a powerful dark-side Force user, and as such he presented a danger to the Republic no matter the fact that they didn't even know so much as his true name. And a danger to the Republic would always be kept under lock-and-key, thus preventing any possibility of escape.

A delirious Force user who had gone off his rocker due to the stress of captivity? He, over time, would be transferred to lower- and lower-level penitentiaries. How much time, you ask?

About 14 months, 2 weeks, 3 days and 17 hours. More or less.

"Of course, if that bitch Jedi had never captured me in the first place, I'd never be in this predicament. That's what I get for fighting on the front lines. How could I be such a fool, Mortimer? I'm a behind the scenes guy; all that blood and guts stuff is for guys like Varek and Apollo...although that Jawa Fire Ball thing was pretty damn cool'"

"Captured, idiot!"

Royston glanced out of the corner of his eye towards his cell-mate, Mortimer. Roy had lived with the being for close to six months now and had rarely heard him utter more than a word or two at most, yet the words he did speak always seemed to be clever jibes aimed at cutting Royston where it hurt the most.

Mortimer slowly blinked one eye, then the other. Maybe Royston was giving Morty too much credit.

Roy's nose began to itch, but he stopped himself from reaching up to scratch it. Instead he looked pointedly from Morty to the cell door, waited for the other being to shuffle over towards the bars holding them in, and asked his ersatz room mate:

"Is the coast clear?"

"Clear! Clear!"

Letting out a sigh of relief, Royston compressed the muscles and tissue in his right hand, causing his Clawdite physiology to morph enough to pull his hand free of the stun cuff affixed there and on his left wrist. Thus temporarily freed, he was able to reach up and scratch his nose.

In what Royston had to begrudgingly admit was a clever move on the part of his Republic jailers, he was forced to wear both stun cuffs and a neural inhibitor. The neural inhibitor prevented him from accessing the Force, while the stun cuffs were keyed to shock the living bejeezus out of him if his wrists came too close to the inhibitor -- thus, at least in theory, preventing him from removing the inhibitor with his own two hands.

Of course, given his ability to morph his physical characteristics, the only thing really preventing Royston from circumventing these safeguards was the fact that he had no way off of this rock. The penal colony (labeled AF-9760X, which he would have known if he had been able to access the prison's central database) was completely self-sufficient, and thus had no means of travel off-planet. Royston ground his teeth in frustration, slowly slipping his wrist back into the stun-cuff lest his jailers patrol by and get their panties in a wad.

"Dammit Morty! I'm trapped here; the great Royston Spektor, trapped like a nerf on a spit!"

"Royston! Trapped!"

After this witty riposte, Mortimer launched into maniacal laughter, sounding more like a bird's screeching.

Royston turned slowly from the window, his eyes taking on a deadly glint as he surveyed his cellmate. It had been too long since he had killed something; a self-described "behind the scenes guy" he may very well be, he still knew how to get his hands dirty, especially after the training Jon Viggo had endured - although typically it was in the shadows, one on one, not like on that rooftop with that stupid Jedi bitch...

But here, locked in this Force-forsaken cage, he hadn't been able to kill anyone in ages. It was inhumane, to deprive him of one of life's sweetest pleasures in such a way!

For a split second he thought of launching himself at Mortimer, taking out his bloodlust on his compatriot, but just as quickly he dismissed his thought. He would never stoop so low as to kill Morty; the being had been the only thing keeping him sane these last few months. And while a good spar would have been enjoyable, Mortimer was a giant pussy; whenever push came to shove, he just screeched his lungs out and flapped his arms like a big baby.

Royston let out yet another deep, mournful sigh, and turned back to look out his cell window.

"I'll tell ya, Morty, I don't know how much longer I can take this."

Mortimer cocked his head at Roy, as if unsure of what he had just heard. Roy glanced over to see his friend's reaction, then dejectedly shook his head in the affirmative.

"I'm serious, bud. It kills me to say it, but if I have to spend another night in this stupid cage I may just go crazy. And for serious this time."

Mortimer, who was in fact just a large raven who had flown through Roy's cell window months ago and never left, blinked his eyes several times and ruffled his feathers before replying.

"Crazy kills..."


*this timeframe is completely, totally, arbitrarily made up. i literally used a number generator. if you don't like it, then too bad.

 

[Mr. Teatime]

Arcturus was a man of eternal calm among those of hate and anger. Though he had powerful passion and emotions to call upon, his outward self was icy and for the most part his decisions were made using logic and reason. Right now, however, he was feeling vengeful.

Over a year ago during the battle at Empress Teta, Royston Spekter had been captured after his partner was felled and he was outnumbered. As one of few Arcturus would consider something close to a friend, he was not happy about it at the time, and had not forgotten. Now, however, the Ubiqtorate and Geist Weiss had managed to discover his location. Now, armed and armored in his upgraded Immortal armor, including a lovely clipped on dark purple sleeveless cloak, he sent a message to Darth Vires containing this fact.

Have an assault shuttle and a stealth frigate prepared. We have work to do. He then also sent a notification to Geist, who would be joining them.

Vengeance was something Arcturus understood very well. Royston's captors would regret their existence.

 

[Sreeya]

Thaed blankly stared at the prison up ahead. He had been 'asked' to fetch Royston by Andraste, the stupid bitch having returned to the Empire. The Zabrak had been all too thrilled about the possibility of her never returning again, but lo and behold, she came back with a ceremony to boot. Thaed grumbled to himself, rubbing his chin in thought. He had arrived hours ago, pondering exactly how to break the idiot out of prison. He liked the man, he really did, but Thaed had always thought him capable of weaseling out of situations. Now that he was given the task at hand, there was one problem: he was hopped up on enough drugs and booze to down a bull rancor. The prison walls looked like fuzzy velvet, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to pet it and rub his face on it. The Zabrak slowly tilted his head, blinking his yellow eyes a few times.

"Dammit... why is this so hard?"

He had asked a few trees for directions on the way, and they had guided him well. Unfortunately, they all failed to mention exactly how to extract him. Scratching his nether regions in thought, he shrugged and began to slowly walk in the direction of the prison.

"Okay..I'll play it cool. I'm going to say I just happened to be in the neighborhood and I'm visiting my friend. If that doesn't work, fry him. Got it."

He scowled at a figure.

"The hell are you looking at?"

Thaed kept walking past the cactus he snapped at. With any luck, the others would arrive before he managed to turn the entire operation into a disaster..

 

[Mr. Teatime]

(OOC: Theme )

All was, beyond the presence of a Sith, seemingly well on the moon prison. Calm. No unusual weather predicted that day or anything.

Except there totally was. Three hundred or so meters from the prison walls a storm was brewing, where the jungle lay. Guards eyed the jungle, and the expansive clouds above the trees, nervously. And for good reason, as in the distance thunder echoed and trees were ripped by their roots to join it. Though it couldn't be seen by those manning the walls and towers, animals were also joining the trees in the clouds. And above the clouds, hidden by the unnatural weather, was a Sith stealth shuttle, manned by only a few people. Two of them were Darths of significant power, one of which was causing the weather. Which, due to his careful nurturing, now had it's updraft surge forward rapidly towards the walls. Dust and stones lifted from the ground and people momentarily lost the air in their lungs as air pressure dropped around them. The updraft impact the prison with a dull 'thud', but continued to draw things upward before that point. Guards panicked as they were lifted off their feet to join the storm.

Meanwhile, a single guard patrolling near Roy's cell stopped moving for just a second, freezing in all his actions, before moving along. At the same time, so did the bird named Mortimer. As the clouds drew overhead, the wind began to slow... Which meant everything that had been up, must now come down. Guards, animals, and trees, and freezing rain began to impact the prison and the ground around it, the rain itself preventing sight beyond a few meters.

The lone guard stopped outside Roy's cell, walking with an unusual quietness. He tapped his club twice against the bars, looked out the cell window, and spoke in a voice somehow both peaceful and full of poisonous malice.
"Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" Followed by the bird's croaking, Fly! Free!And then they both proceeded to stare, perfectly still, at the cell window.

And then, shortly afterwards, a dull thump impacted outside the window as something landed heavily just outside. The bird and the man both stared at the wall, now, at whatever was beyond the thick stone.

Which was, in fact, the stealth shuttle landing on the ground. Arcturus stood atop it, as it was now anchored to the wall below. The stone was thick, but that didn't matter. It was filled with weakness. Arcturus used the Force to float up to the wall of Royston's cell, and then...

A crack like a gunshot sounded as many cracks suddenly formed in the stone of the wall to Royston's cell, dust flying through the air, though the wall itself remained in the general shape of a wall despite the damage. A use of Shatterpoint that, judging from the sand-like bits of dust coming off it it, seems to have weakened it significantly. Arcturus then dropped back down to the shuttle.

 

[Raif]

Royston just shook his head at his cell-mate's rather ominous mutterings. Mortimer could be a bit screwy sometimes, to say the least. Roy turned away from his friend and focused his attention back out the small, barred window to his cell as a gust of wind disturbed his long, greasy, unwashed hair. As a highly educated man, and a student of meteorology (among many, many other things) Royston always took some small enjoyment out of observing this small jungle-moon's weather patterns. Today, though, something seemed a bit off...

Royston stood up straighter, hands on hips and head cocked to the side as he focused on the storm developing in the distance. Mortimer shuffled over from his spot by the cell door to stand and look outward with his friend.

"That looks oddly familiar..."

"Odd! Odd!"

Sudden realization struck Royston like a brick to the head. He recognized that storm out there because it was a Force Storm, and he just so happened to have instructed a particular Force user in their use not long before his capture. It could have been a simple coincidence, but you didn't survive long as a spy if you didn't mistrust such coincidences.

So Arcturus was likely the cause of the storm. And if Arcturus was here, then chances were good...

"Son of a Hutt! I'll never hear the end of it if I let Varek think I needed his help getting out of this poodoo pile!"

Royston whirled to face his cell-mate, a manic energy in his gaze. Without even realizing it, his scraggly prisoner appearance had changed slightly; the hair shortening and smoothing out, the beard receding to something much more respectable looking. Royston Spektor had a focus, and that focus was escape.

"Morty, execute escape plan Beta-7!"

All Roy received in return was a blank stare, followed by the typical eye blink he had come to expect.

"Dammit Mortimer, just go get the guards' attention and tell them I need help! Go, we don't have much time."

As he spoke, the storm outside grew worse and worse as the exterior of the prison compound was pelted with anything and everything that the hurricane-force winds could rip loose from the ground.

~~~

"HELP! HELP! HELP!"

For being an incredibly dense individual, Mortimer actually did an admirable job at attracting the guard's attention. As the bird squawked and flapped his feathers like a maniac, in addition to yelling for help, the two nearby toughs had no choice but to come and check out what was causing the ruckus.

They were met by an image that shocked them. The Prisoner - whose name they had never bothered to learn - lay on the floor of his dank cell. His face and exposed skin looked ashen, his eyes were rolling into the back of his head, and there appeared to be froth at the corners of his gaping mouth.

"Dammit!"

The lead guard cursed as he hastily unlocked the cell door. They had no idea who this guy was, other than being more than a little mentally unstable, but they had very strict orders that he was to come to no permanent harm during his stay. Whatever was afflicting the man now definitely appeared to be permanent, and so the lead guard quickly knelt down to check the prisoner's vitals and try to reverse whatever malady had struck the man.

~~~

Royston continued his ruse, knowing that thanks to his shape-shifting abilities the guards would fall for it hook, line, and sinker. As the first guard leaned in to check his breathing, Royston suddenly righted his appearance and reached up with both hands to grab the collar of the guard's uniform.

"Vencu Head Butt!!"

Yelling these words, which would be nonsense to most individuals in the galaxy, Royston snapped his head forward into the bridge of the guard's nose. It exploded satisfyingly in a spray of blood and cartilage, and while the guard was thus momentarily stunned Royston continued his barrage, trusting that the continued squawking and flapping he was hearing meant Mortimer was distracting the second guard.

Royston's hands, still gripping his adversary's collar, suddenly let go. At the same moment they shrunk and twisted, appearing for a moment more like tentacles than hands. He was thus able to quickly slip free of the stun cuffs, then revert back to their previous human shape. Roy then almost casually reached up and snapped the guard's neck before quickly springing to his feet, landing in a combat crouch ready to dispatch the second guard.

Remind me to thank Apollo next time I see him for teaching me that...

As Royston finished this thought and prepared to launch himself at his second enemy, he stopped and stood in a momentary shock. Both the guard and Morty were standing stock still with odd looks on their faces. The guard then made the comment about the weather, followed by Morty's urging to escape, and Royston knew his initial instincts had been correct; finally, after over a year, he was being rescu....nope, he was escaping. Yep, all by himself, escaping. That's right.

Turning suddenly at the loud thump that came from just on the other side of his cell window, Royston nodded his head resolutely. Whatever he chose to call it later, escape or rescue, he was getting the hell out.

Almost reverently he reached up to the neural inhibitor; this piece of metal and circuitry had kept him from embracing the Force for so long, he was almost afraid of taking it off. But then he did, and it was almost too glorious to put into words. He was a god among mortals once again, and his retribution would be terrible. And, as he had suspected, he was not the only god in this neck of the woods; he could detect both Arc and Varek nearby, and a little farther off...

"Oh sweet Vader, Thaed. I need to get outta here before he sets this whole place on fire with me still in it."

First off, the inhibitor: he held his hand upright with the band in the palm of his hand. The circlet floated up a few inches, grasped in the Force, and then in the blink of the eye was crushed to a fine dust which blew about the room. Royston laughed maniacally as he continued to wield even more power, this time directing it toward the wall of his cell which held the window. He released a very powerful Force push, which would have blasted the wall into shrapnel had it not already been weakened by Arc's modified form of shatterpoint. Instead it blew outward for a moment in a very fine powder, then - thanks to the wind - blew back into Roy's cell, coating all inside in what looked like ash.

Spitting powdery rock out of his mouth, Roy turned to summon Morty. He paused, though, upon seeing the second guard still standing stock still. That particular guard had dealt Roy quite a few punishments during his time here, and it was time for a little payback. Quickly glancing over both shoulders like a child about to do something he knew was wrong, Royston quickly crossed the distance between himself and the brainwashed man.

And kicked him square in the groin. Hard. Royston could have incinerated the poor fool, or crushed him like the inhibitor, but he wanted him to live with the pain of what were likely two ruptured testicles.

"Come on Morty, we got ourselves a plane to catch!"

Royston clapped his hands like a giddy school girl as the bird alighted upon his shoulder, then he stepped out of the massive hole where his cell wall used to be. Using the Force to slow his fall, he descended from his second-story room onto the upper fuselage of what he now knew to be his rescue shuttle. There waiting for him was his former student Arcturus, whom Roy affectionately clapped on the shoulder and gave his most charming grin.

"Arc! Ol' buddy ol' pal, you're sure a sight for sore eyes. You still running errands for Varek? I thought for sure you'd have moved to bigger and better things by now. Thanks for the ride, by the way. Shall we commence with the escaping?"

 

[Dmitri]

Geist Weiss was not in the happiest of moods with the former Spymaster. Soon after he was captured, one of his charges, Ubiqtorate Lain Derisma, had tried to frame him for stealing sensitive files. Luckily the girl had been captured and evidence suggesting his innocence; currently he was on probation. As a way to try to redeem himself in the leaders' eyes, he helped locate Royston Spector.

His illusions came in handy, disguising the Sith stealth shuttle. Granted, sensors wouldn't pick it up, but unsuspecting eyes could. It would not be noticed by the prison guards, though he doubted they'd be oblivious of a prison break after the stunts of his compatriots. They were having fun, while he got to hear it all from the cockpit, including Thaed yelling at a cactus. Indeed, Geist Weiss was their pilot for the mission, or to be more specifically, co. pilot. The main pilot, who could be removed, was a droid controlled by ADIM.

Geist spoke into the communication line. "I think we should take Spektor's advice and start escaping. Last thing we want is for some idiotic soldier to get lucky and shoot out our engines."