Transmission 34-M: ERROR: CONTACT INFO UNAVAILABLE (Me, Sin, Ols)

[Incubi Priest]

Eamic walked through one of the many jungles of Selvaris. It was night, yet the abnormally large moon cast a brilliant silver light through the trees. For the first time in his life, the Shade had to admit that deep down he was truly afraid. Not afraid of the unfamiliar backwater planet's geography, flora, flauna, and people. Not afraid of the mission he was going to embark on. Not afraid of anything. No, he was afraid of the two he was to meet. The transmission he had received was truly horrifying...

Three Nights Earlier

*Bling....bling....bling...*

Eamic looked through groggy eyes at the blinking comm system at the foot of his bed aboard his vessel. In reality it wasn't his vessel, or at least, it hadn't been. Castawaying on a merchant vessel, Eamic had massacred the crew in order to obtain the formidable ship for himself. So, naturally, he was skeptical as to whether or not he would answer the transmission being sent. Hell, he thought to himself, I can always play it off like I'm a new crew member.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, the Zeltron leaned forward and accepted the transmission being sent. A dark hooded figure appeared in holographic form and spoke with a voice that was as ominous as it was monotone.

"Eamic Saabal. You have committed many crimes in your past. Murder, prostitution, soliciting prostitution, rape, and perhaps the most heinous: the crimes against that innocent little girl. Her family's grief has still not subsided."

Eamic raised his brow in confusion at the man. How the hell did he know Eamic was on the ship? And even more surprising, how did he know of his past? Hell, only a handful of people had ever known about what he did to that girl, and most of them had been "disposed of".

"What the hell do you want?" Eamic asked impatiently, "You have n-"

"I have every right to spy on you, Zeltron," The voice interrupted, "and there is nothing you are going to do to stop me. From this moment on, you are one of my many tools. I have chosen you, and once my choice is made, there is naught you may do to relieve yourself of my presence. I am in your mind. I am in your soul. Now, speak the truth: what did Emshi do to bring down rape, torture, and murder upon her head? What justifcation do you have?"

Eamic rolled his eyes. Just another religious nut, only this one had found out about his crimes. Of course this would be followed by some threat. They always told him they would exact God's revenge. It was hilarious actually.

"What the hell. I did it because I wanted to, ever think of that? I wanted to know what it would feel like. I wanted the experience. I wanted to know if necrophillia truly was as fun as my mind imagined it. And guess what, it was. Her screams still fuel my libido. Happy now?"

"Very," The man continued, "very happy. I have contacted many, and I relate to you more than they. You are to be my agent. The ship has changed course. From where it lands, you will find other means to go the planet Selvaria. Once there, enter the Yakambi jungle and await the Unholy."

Eamic was utterly shocked. It was the first time in many years that he had been completely speechless. So, he merely nodded to show that the man's words had registered in his mind. The hooded figure was replaced by two images. One was a younger looking man, a rather handsome one, whose features were striking yet hinted towards lethality. The other was cold. There were no other words that could describe him in Eamic's mind. His eyes were fixated on the latter, out of a fearful respect that was greater even than he held for Master Ray.

"The left, is a man name Viro. It is his surname, to be sure. The latter is a man named Sarus Kappa. These men are men you will learn to fear. Men you will learn to obey, to fall to, to become tools to. You are one of the most powerful of my specimens, Saabal, yet the power the Unholy hold will bring you to your knees.

I have contacted them, though with far less truth than I have contacted you. They will know where to meet you, and when, but they will have no fear in their souls as you do. You are to confront them and reveal to them what I have revealed. Then I shall do my work. If any deception is in your voice, Eamic, I shall break you."

=====

Eamic hated reliving the memory of the transmission. Yet he had to. He played it constantly in his mind. However, what he hated was the fact that the hooded figure was right. Even now, when what the shadow referred to as the Unholy weren't in his immediate presence, his knees shook with fear. The man threatened to break him yet he was not afraid of that. No, it was the handsome yet lethal appearance of the younger man and the coldness of the older that made him feel weak.

And that was part of the reason why he came. Nothing had sent chills down his spine like they had. He needed to see with his own eyes what power these two held was like. Exposure to them was necessary for him. Yet, somehow, Eamic knew he would be safe. Maybe the hooded man would protect him. Maybe he could protect himself. Or maybe, the other two lacked the boredom to slaughter him. Whatever the reason, Eamic waited with his lightsaber hilt in hand for the Unholy.
​

 

[Forte Viro]

The jungle world of Selvaris, bathed in the glow of two nearby celestial bodies, hanging in space like a decoration on an invisible Christmas tree, rotating slower than the eye could see as though on some nonexistent breeze, floating before the billions of fairy lights hovering in space beyond it. In the deep shadows of space a blade lanced through the blackness, the matt surface of this shuttle, built for stealth and speed rather than anything else, blending neatly into the background, only the most astute people being able to see it as it slipped across the stars, covering one, then the other, and the another as it approached the planet.

The inhabitant of the ship, the sole inhabitant, was Forte Viro. A man lost within the force as he sat in the center of the main chamber of the ship, kneeling in meditations. The ship around him was almost pitch black, the only light coming from the blue-white illumination of the various instruments in both the cockpit beyond and the room around him; the light offered by nearby stars barely lit the chamber. In his meditations Forte's mind constantly took him back to this man, Eamic Saabal, who had called him here. It was as though walking into the unknown to him, but each time he reached into the force he felt so much importance around this task he could not stare destiny in the face and let it pass. So quite and peaceful, even the gently hum of the engines had seemed to drop into a monotonous rhythm, as continuous and regular as Forte's breathing, or heartbeat.

Beep. The alarm to tell him that the final approach to the planet was necessary rang out softly through the stillness. As though expecting it, Forte opened his eyes, leaned back on the balls of his feet and stood up straight. He walked calmly over the a closet in the corner of the cockpit and pushed the open key. Inside was a modern pilot droid. Lacking both personality and intelligence, capable of only piloting the ship in simple maneuvers, Forte felt an odd sense of the surreal whenever he switched it on as he did so then. It's visual receptors lit up in the same odd blue light and shone onto Forte's face. He stepped aside, "Pilot us to the destination I've entered as the Alpha Landing Zone," he said softly. It was always good to have a contingency plan, and having researched the planet on the first day of the journey he had come up with a number of other potential landing zones should a problem arise. The ship accelerated and angled down toward the planet which now filled the entire viewport. He walked from the cockpit and opened a locker in which he kept his combat robes. Changing out of his more comfortable travel and meditation garb, he put on the grey undershirt and black pants, before putting on a light grey tunic and fastening the clasps. He then took his greaves and his boots and put those on too. Finally, he took his leather belt and fastened that around his waist. He then moved to another locker, this one filled with weapons, and he began to select his usual array of knives, both short throwing ones and a couple of longer ones, and his two small pistols, one a slug thrower the other a blaster. Satisfied that they were all safely upon either the bandoleer, belt or other holsters he bore, and concealed from sight, he locked that locker and moved to a final footlocker, concealed within the ship itself. Popping it open, he took out his white cloak, cleaned since the last time he had worn it, and put it on, raising the hood to bathe his face in shadow. The final item he took from the compartment was a metal cylinder, about twelve inches long, and he clipped it onto a belt. His hand hesitated over the other cylinder in there, before he picked that too up and concealed it in the depths of his robes, safely and securely.

As he closed the final locker he walked back to the central chamber and looked through the doors of the cockpit to the central viewport, seeing the planet up close as they approached. The ship seemed to slow and he felt the landing gear lower as the ship slowly was set down by the droid. As it stopped he walked over to the droid, pointed it to the closet and switched it off. He then closed all systems in the ship, and activated the security system. Walking back through the ship he hit the button to open the hatch and walked down the ramp, his footsteps carving a path through the humid air. As he left the ship, he hit a button on a device on his belt and the ramp chut, and clicked, the ship totally secure.

He saw the Zeltron standing in the clearing, a little under a hundred meters away. He strode over until he was a lot closer and said in his soft voice, "Eamic Saabal."

 

[Incubi Priest]

Eamic surprised himself when he didn't flinch or reach for his weapon. No, he was actually quite calm on the outside. On the inside however, the tumult in his soul was outrageously apparent. He did not try hiding it as he knew the attempt would be folly. Nodding solemnly, the Zeltron wondered if he had showed up alone.

"Viro, I presume. Did you arrive with the other, or did you come alone?"

 

[Forte Viro]

Other? Forte knew of know other, but his face displayed no confusion, his blank mask still looking at the well built Zeltron, sizing him up and noting the lightsaber in his hand. Subtley reaching out around him, he again enclosed himself in the force, shrouding his prescence. He did not make it as subtle as being a man with no power, but instead showed himself as a devoid shroud, a signature that took power to convey, a signature that would be overlooked by most force sensitives, an emptiness that would only be noticed by the astute and clever, and powerful. It sent out the signal to those people that he too had power, and the intelligence not to flaunt it, yet he did demonstrate he was not one to be taken lightly. He inhaled and replied to Eamic, "I came alone."

He almost wanted to tell the Zeltron to hurry up and tell him what he really wanted, why he had been contacted. But he was also extremely curious as to who else had been sought out by the mysterious Zeltron. Forte had investigated the name, he had found much beneath it, a past of scattered, sordid details, littered across the reputation of a brothel owner. And that was no Forte's only source, as he could feel a certain prescence having touched the Zeltron's in a way the Zeltron had respect for him. Forte had not only come across the prescence before, but he too had seen and felt that respect for the man, the Shade Order's leader Cain Ray. Perhaps Ray had once taught the Zeltron a valuable lesson, or a series of them, or even how to use that lightsaber. If he had then obviously the Zeltron was worthy of recognition, even if he seemed not to have attained the potential Forte could recognise within him. Waiting, he continued his steady rhythmic breathing, barely moving as he listened out for the other's arrival.

 

[Sovereign]

Time passed.

The orb of the night was climbing, and the stars slowly gave way. It was unusually dark. Nothing could be seen save for the faint glimmer of the moonrise. All seemed quiet and still, but the two could feel a cold dread creeping over their heart. Someone was watching. There was no sound or movement in the night, yet it all seemed painfully obvious. Somehow, they could easily feel a brooding presence amid the wilderness. An immense weight bore against them and they felt pinned underneath as if stuck between a hammer and anvil. Suddenly, out of the darkness of the night, a shadow rose. They strained their eyes, and the shadow seemed to grow. Soon there could be no doubt: a figure was approaching. It was tall and menacing, its countenance was shaped at the likeness of a stiffened corpse, and within it burnt keen and merciless eyes. The figure bore its gaze upon pair. "Who dares?" It asked. "Who dares disturb me? I do not usually answer the summon of mere brigands. Speak, now!"

 

[Incubi Priest]

Eamic felt the presence of this one easily. It was not subtle, as when Viro arrived, which had its own disadvantage. However, it did attempt to play on the fear he felt when first seeing the hologram of the man. Though the negative aura was a powerful one, it actually lessened the fear that the Zeltron had felt: this man's power was obvious, yet he was as inconspicuous as a rabid rancor.

"You did not need to answer the call, so you have no right to bicker over it. It was your decision to come here, not mine." Eamic spoke curtly with what he thought was an unprecedented wave of courage. Oddly enough he felt some form of authority, not necessarily over the two, but authority nonetheless. A sense of power and importance filled him, yet he was not going to underestimate the two in front of him out of respect for their greater strength, but was going to stand strong at least."

"I was contacted just as you were, and it appears this man has something in store for each of us. While we're all different, it is apparent that an esprit de corps will be presented once contacted. This figure is obviously one of power, importance, and great regality. He merely told me to relay what he said to me, bring both of you here, and he will contact us further. My knowledge is almost as limited as yours in this matter, I am afraid."

(ooc: Sin, can you please not automatically impart what our characters felt? Just reword it a bit differently and it'll be fine. Thanks.)

 

[Forte Viro]

When the figure, an Ospion Consul whom Forte recognised as the one time Jedi Grandmaster Sarus Kappa, albeit a very evil and twisted looking incarnation of him, appeared, Forte barely moved. He could see him out of the corner of his eye, as he was facing the Zeltron. He suppressed a smile at Kappa's theatricality, he seemed to appreciate it more than Forte himself. And when he heard the rasping voice of the man, accusing them of being brigands, and demanding why not only Eamic, but Forte, had disturbed him, with his open question, Forte could have laughed. In fact he would have could he not sense the almost painfully obvious power the man bore, and if he had wanted to offend the man. But of course a former grandmaster would hardly be weak. Forte continued to sustain his blank aura, as though a small hole, or void in the force, rather than merely a regular man. He did not turn to face Kappa, nor did he say anything to greet him. That was Saabal's job, which he took up almost as soon as the idea came into Forte's mind.

While what Eamic said did not answer his curiosity, Forte did not let impatience take hold. His time was valuable, but he did not mind waiting for something that was worth waiting for; this certainly seemed to be worth a few moments at least. He also felt no lie in Eamic's words, it seemed he was simply being used to bring the three of them together for another party, although the fact that even now between them their knowledge of why they had been brought here was practically null was worrying. He broke the silence between them.

"Saabal, my time, as I'm sure the Consul's, is valuable. I should hope the one whose message you convey to us appreciates that, and realises that certain people in the galaxy are not worth bothering for trifles." he paused, taking a breath and continued, "You are the only point of communication between he and us, if you could inform him that we have arrived, I'd be most gratuitous."

 

[Incubi Priest]

This caused a bit of worry in Eamic's mind: the man had not given the Zeltron instructions on how to contact him. All he said was to bring them here. Surely, if he could not contact the mysterious man, the two men in front of him would end his life swiftly and painfully. Frantically, the Shade searched his mind for an answer of some sort, but he was put to rest as a tall and slender cloaked figure seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

It was taller than a Wookiee, and resonated no power. In fact, it seemed to have no presence whatsoever. A void in the Force and in the senses was the best way to describe the cloaked man. No features discernable, the cloak seemed to glide across the ground as it circled the three, before finally stopping beside Eamic. One touch of a gloved hand sent the Zeltron into an instant state of unconsciousness.

"Brothers..." The voice spoke. It was cold and raspy with much similarity to the voice of an aged man, "I have in my power the ability to ruin worlds, to build economies, and to change history. But it is not I who holds the most power here, nor this insignifigant messenger boy who lays sleeping at my feet, it is the two of you. It is for this reason, that I have met you in person, and you may take pride in the fact that no one, not one sentient in the galaxy, has ever spoken with the Shadow Broker directly.

What is it you want, Kappa? And you, Viro? Does the former grandmaster wish to exact revenge on the Order that so shamelessly rejected him? Does the rogue wish for the ability to shape galactic events? Your purpose here is largely guided by the desires of your heart."