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Thread: The Reckoning

  1. #1

    Closed The Reckoning

    The full moon on Iego had a unique feeling, compared to other worlds. It magnified the dark of the night, giving an ethereal atmosphere to the sea shore, turning the water and the rocky beaches into an almost spiritual realm, beyond present, and even past and future. To Baska, it was calming, a quality that her tortured but sharp mind could appreciate. There was a stillness contrasting with the usual wreckage her inner disturbia could birth. The wind hadn't quieted that night though; twisting and slapping against the tall blonde's body as she roamed the coast on foot. The temperature was colder than usual, even for a full moon; and she hadn't barely dressed for the weather, despite having had her residence there for over a decade. It mattered little for she could sustain much worse conditions. The current ones gave her an almost nonchalant reminder of being alive.

    Baska sank her hands into the pocket of her long red duster, a drop of vivid color in the muted tones of the full moon. She had traveled across the galaxy for most of her life, never staying anywhere long enough to call it home except here, hidden from the rest of the worlds she had seen. It had been her refuge, although she hated the notion of a shelter. The whole concept left a sore taste in her mouth. Too many people liked the coziness and comfort that mostly hid cowardice. Some were exception to the rule; but it was one of the many reasons why she held respect for so few individuals. True power required intelligence and looking beyond appearance, beyond established systems.

    That was why Baska had little patience for politics, and gladly stayed on the edges or behind the curtains of any grand schemes. She understood that it was the playground for some people, including intelligent and valuable persons; but it wasn't how she operated. And yet, she had felt a strange pull of the Force lately, as if she was going to see her life go into new and uncharted directions. She hadn't been able to put her finger on it yet, but it was unsettling, and somewhat intriguing.

    She was wary that such a new chapter might see her settle somewhere else across the galaxy. It felt unnatural to leave Iego behind her in a way. It wasn't a betrayal; for she had lived as viciously authentically as possible her whole life, only growing in power as her soul had been ripped apart over and over again, so every time she could come out of the fire stronger and smarter.

    It nevertheless felt as turning a very long page of her life.

    What had started as a hideout for Denart and her, where they would raise their family, had become a tomb too soon. It had eventually become the outward fortress of her still bleeding soul. She had built her vaults, learned so much about Sith history, turning to the past to fortify her present and bury stubborn roots for the future. Nobody had set foot in her residence since she had lost her family, even before she had become a Sith, embracing her true calling as a Force-imbued predator, beyond a mere bounty hunter.

    She would never forsake this place; but she was ready to travel to new horizons, and she had to be ready for wherever those might be.

    But when the time came, she wouldn't travel alone.
    Last edited by Baska Tankreyd; Oct 23rd, 2019 at 08:46:36 PM.


  2. #2
    Baska's steps eventually led her to the two tombs near her house. The two engraved headstones marked their inhabitants' identities. The graves were nestled near the beginning of the rocky slope upon which the Sith's residence was built; and they were just far enough from the shore that the tides couldn't disturb them at any time. The winds had eroded some of the stone after a dozen years; but they still stood strong and proud, as they shall. They were testimony to a disrupted past, lives cut short by a twist of fate.

    The blonde took a knee before the graves, her blue gaze fastening on the engraved names.

    Denart Baschorn, and Heyrina Tankreyd-Baschorn.

    No tears threatened to fall. She had shed enough; and the pain had only made her stronger. Or so, she had convinced herself, for if she had been honest, she would have admitted more willingly to the destructive loop entrapping her heart. It was often hidden beneath layers of power and achievements. Some times, it was dulled through sexual rapture; but the lone wolf was most often that: a lone Sith who had only stopped swearing off connection in the recent time.

    Her expectations for people to be admitted in her life on any remotely equal footing were immensely high; and she had no intention of lowering the bar. Ever.

    "Wherever you are, I hope I still make you proud, my loves," she confessed in a whisper.

    She was going to leave Iego behind for the most part; but they were coming with her.

  3. #3
    "The past gives you greater power over the present. History allows for deeper manipulation of your enemy."

    Darth Mokosh stared at her master, half tempted to tune out from the usual ramble. Koron Ageros might be a vast source of knowledge; for she had learned so much under his tutelage; but she had begun doubting his arrogance was as fully founded as he wanted her to believe.

    She had grown stronger, though she knew he could still devastate her anew if she sought to overpower him yet.

    "Is that why you never told me where you were from, Master? Is that a vulnerability to you?"

    She felt the rapid shift of energy as he stared at her. She had hit a nerve, moreso than expected. She liked it.

    He didn't retaliate as she had briefly expected. She almost felt a hint of curiosity from him.

    "Do you think you can best me, Baska? Is that the reason behind your childish goading?"

    The blonde smirked, feeling emboldened, as she took one tiny step closer to him and his workstation.

    "I am not the one dodging questions, Master."

    She felt tendrils of dark energy float closer to her, twisting and turning but not going beyond a mere jolt to her skin. She knew they could do much worse. She had experienced it countless times over the years.

    "You already know enough about me. And not all of us find misplaced pride in coming from an insignificant planet."

    Mokosh knew that in her right mind she should end the conversation. She chose otherwise, not for the first time, and not for the last time.

    "You were a scientist before becoming a Sith. Insignificant planets rarely breed such things. So you may not only be dodging the question, but lie for your own protection."

    She had barely ended her sentence that the torrent of energy overwhelmed her, tossing her body to the ground. Getting knocked out would be the easy way out, which was why her last organized thoughts were that her Master would prolong the punishment for a long time before he let her fall unconscious.
    Last edited by Baska Tankreyd; Apr 2nd, 2021 at 11:16:26 AM.

  4. #4
    A couple of days later, Baska had gathered appropriate containers in which she would be able to transport her late husband's and daughter's remains. She would give them new graves on Hapes. Having visited so many sites of powers as a Sith, she had almost longed for them to still haunt her, beyond the realms of her thoughts. Most of the time, she was relieved to know they were at peace on the other side, for she had never felt their presence in any tangible way. The way she had sustained their existence in her dreams and ruminations was enough, maybe too much in a way.

    As a predator, she understood patience and calculation, stalking your prey until the right moment to strike. As a Sith, she recognized the potency of passion and how it could break chains. As a Tankreyd, she was too fierce by many people' standards. One way or the other, she had never let go of Denart and Heyrina; they were cornerstones to who she had become.

    She carefully placed the larger container next to Denart's tomb, for she would begin by unearthing him. She rolled up her sleeves and grabbed her tools. She wondered whether she should have felt sacrilegious doing such a thing; but she experienced none of it. It was the right decision.

    She was careful as she freed Denart's skeleton to which shreds of fabric still clung. Her gestures were as tender as they were precise. Time felt suspended as she moved her husband's remains into the new container. She knew that they would undoubtedly move at some point, unless she had chosen a much more advanced type of container. She mused over it as she stared at his bones, eyes transfixed, her body yearning to walk down memory lanes of forlorn days.

    Too little, too late.

    Too far gone.


    She groaned, shrugging the counterproductive sorrow away. She had more to do.

    Baska left Denart's new repose open for the time being.

    Brushing beads of sweat from her forehead, as the late morning light ricocheted over the ocean, placating heat upon her.

    She opened the other container, much smaller, appropriate for a stillborn heiress.

    The blonde turned towards Heryina's tomb, her next breath got caught in her throat. She instinctively rested a hand over her abdomen, her clothing concealing the large scars covering it, a lifelong reminder of the little girl lying under the ground, right in front of her.

    With an almost feral growl, Baska threw herself back into the task, and without further hesitation, began to unearth Heyrina. Her movements were slow and steady at first, eventually becoming frantic as she kept digging. She soon tossed the tools aside, her bare hands clawing at the rocks and sand and dirt. She didn't register how the ground was cutting into her flesh. She kept digging until she couldn't deny reality.

    Her daughter's grave was empty.

  5. #5
    She woke up in tremendous pain, her whole body feeling like a war zone. Fragment-like memories festered to the surface; but she felt in a haze. She vaguely heard the nurse and doctors speaking gibberish to her. She tried to ask about her daughter; but words couldn't escape her parched throat. She weakly tried to grab at a nurse, wanting to see Heyrina; but they would give her the cold shoulder treatment until she managed to plead enough. Then she saw her little one, lifeless as she should have never been. She needed to hold her just once.

    Then the loop replayed. It was always slightly different, playing on every possible levels, from physical pain, to nightmarish visions of her stillborn baby. The agony always ran all the way down to her bones, threatening to brittle them into ashes, just like her soul felt.

    The thing was that as painful as it was, she had got used to it, as much as a mortal could at least.

    On her knees in the middle of the ancient courtyard, she shrugged under the burning sun. She hissed and glared at her master. It had only been months since he had found her at the detour of some remote planet. She had had but a glimpse and taste of what the power of the dark side was; and she wouldn't stop until the day she possessed mastery over it.

    Koron Argenos was towering over her, seemingly undisturbed by the whispers from spirits or by the placating heat. He looked merely bored with her, which she knew wasn't a good sign.

    "Resisting the assault and going through the motions is merely a starting point. You are pathetic."

    She cringed at the reprimand. The worst was that she couldn't blame him. She did feel pathetic; but she had difficulties figuring out what next steps he was expecting of her.

    "Do you want to see your daughter again?"

    She couldn't help the sardonic laugh that escaped her lips.

    "We're Sith. We're not magicians, Master."

    She felt his invisible grip on her throat.

    "What do you know of the power of the dark side? You're barely scratching the surface."

    She wanted to retort but air was becoming scarce in her lungs.

    "If you were that powerful, you'd have raised my daughter from the dead. You'd have found ways to use her against me, better than simple mental puppet tricks," she snapped into his mind.

    She had expected immediate punishment, which would likely last well into the evening. Breaking her apart to force her to stand anew had been her lot in life, since she had attached herself to the Sith Master.

    Much to her surprise, he let go of her, and she collapsed, catching her breath. The next instant, the mental assault and nerve-wreaking visions started again, with renewed ferocity. It went deeper, creepier, faster, tempo and viciousness varying to keep her guessing.

    She realized he had been going easy on her.

  6. #6
    She had taunted him.

    She had dared him to desecrate her daughter's remains.

    There was no doubt in Baska's mind that her late master had been the grave robber. Brash and desperate like a wounded animal, she hadn't thought straight in the early days of her training. She had latched herself onto the Sith Master, relishing the torture of the training, as to do something with her life, to survive against all odds. She had needed the strength; but she hadn't really had her head on her shoulders during the haze that was the year following Denart's and Heyrina's deaths.

    She also had had no idea or care about the fact Koron Ageros was well versed in Sith alchemy, with a penchant for the study of necromancy, in part inspired by his background as a biochemical scientist prior to his embracing of the Sith ways.

    How had he even found out about her lair on Iego? How had he been able to sneak in there, exhume her daughter's corpse and take it off-world, without her ever noticing?

    How could she have been so blind? So ignorant?

    Fists clenched in her lap, she knew.

    It had taken her almost a decade of thorough study, unending trials, and willful ordeals, to be strong enough to kill her mentor. She had paid in full to earn her power. The growth and pain it had required had been tremendous. Somewhere in the midst of it, she had regained command of her mind and emotions, enough to know when to observe and when to strike.

    That first year had been full of mistakes; but she had never realized how severe until now.

    Anger unleashed from the depths of her soul. Dark energy pulsated from Baska, destroying the two headstones in a single blast, all the way to carve a hole into the rocky formation behind where they had stood.

    Willing herself to a standing position, the Sith Master stood silent, glaring at the empty tomb one last time.

    She would uncover the truth, no matter how long it would take her to succeed.
    Last edited by Baska Tankreyd; May 7th, 2019 at 03:38:52 AM.

  7. #7
    The next hours became a blur in which Baska's sanity held only by the thread of her undying resolve.

    She had stormed to the vaults ensconced beneath the residence, safe in the basement. Much of her collection of artifacts and old tomes gathered in the last dozen years remained untouched. What she needed was all that had belonged to her late master. She brought everything upstairs, piling the handful of holocrons and notes she had retrieved on the bare floor.

    The blonde sat before them, trying to find method in the madness. She didn't know where to start. She didn't know whether she would find any answer in what she had snatched from her master's personal belongings after killing him. She had emptied his familiar lair from everything relevant to her own interest, before burning the place to the ground. She had wanted to leave no trace of his existence, as a way to assert her dominance over his legacy.

    Truth be told, she hadn't necessarily studied his records in absolute depth; for the last couple of years had seen her pursue other objectives. Only recently had she felt the pull towards investigating where his other lairs might have been, for she knew she was missing a few. He wasn't the kind of man to settle for a single place, which might leave him exposed. He had been too secretive for such foolishness.

    She hated to admit it; but what she knew about her late mentor was scant compared to what she needed to know now.

    During a recent trip to Bal'demnic with fellow Sith Dalethria, she had uncovered, much by the will of the darkness, abandoned notes from her master. She still didn't know how it had been possible, save for the spirits that had haunted the place. She believed, based on another journal she had in her possession, that his first visit in the ruins had been during his education, when just as she had once been, he hadn't been ready to tackle all trials placed in his way.

    She went through these earlier notes, finding references to his past as a scientist. Biochemists were no rarity in the galaxy, and Baska was no scientist herself. It was but a lost star in a nebula.

    Frustration rose within her, threatening to take over; but she harnessed her anger instead. A silent roar reverberated through her skull as she pressed on through her readings. She tried to find cross references, anything that could lead her somewhere useful. She hadn't even known his birth name, which she believed was different from the alias he had lived under as a Sith. While she had never forsaken her birth name, simply living on the fringes, she knew that it wasn't uncommon, and not just for Sith.

    It felt the more she was reading, the less she knew. She felt like everything was spinning out of control, as her words had so many years ago.
    Last edited by Baska Tankreyd; May 7th, 2019 at 06:45:31 PM.

  8. #8
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    Heyrina Tankreyd's Avatar
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    Heyrina stepped in quietly inside the veranda. The little girl pursed her lips as the wind slammed the glass door close, surprisingly not shattering. She shrugged it off, and returned her attention to the piles of items surrounding her mother. She didn't remember having seen the room in such a mess. Normally her mother kept her research downstairs, in the vaults in which she wasn't allowed to freely roam.

    The young blonde, Baska's spitting image, watched as her mother had seemingly dozed off. She wondered for a brief moment whether she was meditating; but something was off, letting her think exhaustion had overwhelmed the older Tankreyd. She wasn't used to seeing her mother so distraught; but it wasn't the first time either.

    She walked over to her mother and sat besides her. She reached out to look at different items, many of the journals being beyond her comprehension. She got lost perusing through notes, feeling the distinct pull of the frightening puppet master that had pulled strings in mother's and daughter's lives for years.

    With a long sigh, she eventually put the items back into the semi-scattered pile on the floor.

    Heyrina felt a subtle shift. Realizing her mother was awake, she turned her face to meet her gaze.

    "It's not me you'll find there, mother."



  9. #9
    Baska's eyes shot open. A cold shiver traveled down her spine as she looked around her, almost expecting to see her daughter by her side, just as she had seen her in her dreams moments ago. It had been a few months since she had been having visions of Heyrina at various ages, which had been puzzling her. She remembered them well, and not just because most of them repeated themselves, some patterns emerging, some scattered visions leaving her more confused than cleverer.

    Heyrina's words about not finding her "there," wherever that might be, didn't sit well with the Sith Master. She had felt on an endless hunt, and this appeared to confirm her understanding.

    What if the first step wasn't to focus on Heyrina but on her late master? He had been the mastermind behind all of this. Gaining a deeper knowledge of the man who had molded her in the ways of the dark side should be her current objective. It was a painful decision, for all Baska wanted, was to figure out what had happened to her daughter, even when her hope to find anything else than her remains was faint enmeshed with terror at the possibilities.

    A true predator would have her priorities in order. That was exactly what Baska needed to do if she wanted to get the answers she was seeking.

    She closed her mind for a moment, mentally going over the other items she had retrieved from her master's lair back in the day, but nothing else came to mind. She had left all that seemed useless behind. While it was tempting to bemoan a possible blindness for something that could help her now, it would only be a waste of time and energy. She couldn't afford this either.

    So, she went through everything again, even the lengthy earlier notes on scientific projects, which mostly went over her head. She was looking for signs, any trail she could follow to figure out who her master had been before a Sith. It took tedious hours and extended focus, but she eventually had a few notes jotted down, with several names, people, places, and what might be some special project.

    It was difficult to know when those dated back to, and it was a tall order to hope for any of those names to pull anything useful; but it was all she had.

    Without further ado, she sent everything to her cousin, hoping that the pirate would be able to find anything via her network.

    It was Baska's best option. It was her only one.
    Last edited by Baska Tankreyd; Feb 20th, 2020 at 11:30:27 AM.

  10. #10
    It was morning again by the time Baska woke up, lying on the floor. Her concept of time had shifted and faded since she had discovered her daughter's grave emptied. She was still wearing her dirty clothes from the digging work. With a groan, she forced herself to stand up and go clean up. It would do her no good to just let herself go. While fate and the dark side had made sure her resilience went above and beyond normal, it didn't mean she was more than human. And neglecting to sustain and replenish her strength was outright idiocy.

    She heard her comlink beep while she was in the fresher. Despite the physical yearning of rushing to it, in hope it was Alienor, she finished the task at hand. Getting dressed again, she walked up to the device by her bed once ready. The message was indeed from her cousin, which was a relief, although she didn't know yet how fruitful Alienor's research was.

    Unsurprisingly, most of the names had pulled nothing. It still stung.

    Baska kept going through what her cousin had sent. Two names were attached to a mining company, one the name of a transport ship, and the other the name of an employee, now deceased. Another name was of a civilian settlement on a planet where those mining companies had done extensive work, and where they were still under contract.

    This was minimal information to work with; but it was all she had. Having a destination with no name was still a starting point.

    It had been years since a hunt had taken Baska to imperial territory.

  11. #11
    Now that Baska had a destination, she needed to prepare for a trip that would take an indefinite amount of time. She didn't know what to expect once she would be on site. She still had very little to work with, although she was planning to do more research on the planet and its history. The fact that multiple mining companies were working there according to Alienor likely meant that finding non-classified information might provide her with a better idea of what might be going on there.

    She sorely wished she had her late master's birth name, because it would make her quest easier. She knew better than to expect such sheer luck though. As always, she would have to work for it, as she had done with everything in life since she was a child. Her cousin had inquired whether she could offer more help; and Baska had new allies she could turn to among her peers. Yet she knew this mission was hers and nobody else's.

    The Sith Master was already mentally going through the check lists to prepare for her upcoming trip, when something hit her.

    She made her way outside, walking down the terrace, all the way down to the open graves, and the container in which Denart's remains lied, waiting for transportation to its new home in the near future.

    Baska stared at her husband's bones, an uncanny impression shadowing her soul.

    She would eventually build a home elsewhere, for she held for certainty that there was a new journey awaiting her. She would continue rebuilding. She wasn't going to give up on the new perspectives and loyalties fate had placed upon her path. She simply had matters to take care of prior to such endeavors.

    Honoring the past was how she could press forward. It had always been as such, but now more than ever.

    The darkness whispered to her, pulling at her soul in its unique way. The blonde knew what she had to do, given the circumstances.

    She pulled the open container further down the beach, before gathering logs to place inside, by Denart's remains. Once the makeshift pyre was ready, she went to retrieve and light a torch, before walking all the way back to the beach.

    Lone figure facing the ocean, Baska didn't know whether she could do it. Nothing would ever take her memories from her. Letting go and burning physical traces met both a need to stay in control, and a fear of external threats. She felt betrayal gnawing at her, even when she knew that it didn't take anything away from what she had once shared with her companion.

    Throwing herself into her inner turmoil, she ended her doubts in one motion, as she lit the pyre with a steady hand. Watching the flames set the logs and bones ablaze, she watched them rise into the skies. She didn't move for the following hour, keeping watch over Denart's ultimate farewell.
    Last edited by Baska Tankreyd; Feb 20th, 2020 at 11:32:19 AM.

  12. #12
    A week later.

    Baska's travels had been uneventful so far. She had found some basic information about her destination, which had helped her establish a course of action to start investigating. She wasn't particularly troubled about going into imperial territory. She was a nobody to them. All they might have on file was some of her past history as a bounty hunter. Hell, she had been contracted by a couple of imperials fifteen years ago, and she had delivered on time. As a freelancer, she had always gone where the money was. And while she had no particular interest in the Empire as a system, they tended not to be as hell bent as keeping targets alive or in one piece as the Alliance, or whatever name they went under, was. It could make things easier for professionals. Imperials might have record of her birth, her cousin who was a famous musician. Her last known associate they could have on file was Denart, for they had done a contract for an imperial officer once.

    The black hole her existence had been to public records in the last dozen years might look suspect though. At the same time, she was taking precautions. It wasn't as if this was the most dangerous stunt she had pulled. And she was set on finding answers about her late master. This imperial jurisdiction was her lead, and she would follow it no matter what.

    She did have her lightsaber aboard, but it was kept in a hidden safe that would only open with bio-recognition. And if they didn't know what to look for, people would have to tear half the ship down to find it anyway. She would opt for regular blaster and a vibroblade for this mission. They were basic weapons, which shouldn't catch any unusual attention. She was but an insignificant bleep in the galactic population to the general audience, and she was fine with it.

    The shadow was where she belonged.

  13. #13
    While Baska hadn't visited many mining colonies, she had been to many places in the last two decades. Sillesk definitely ranged among the peculiar places she had seen. As she maneuvered the Ruby Wolf towards the port of call located at the edge of the system, her gaze drifted towards the planet where she was eventually headed, and upon the sun further away, at the core of the sparse system. She had read that the asteroid belt surrounding the vibrant sun had once been the main planet before something cut through it, pulverizing it into the current belt.

    There was something about this asteroid belt. She felt it, a mere echo, remnant from older history. She pursed her lips, sharpening her focus towards the belt for a moment. It was as if her mind was attempting to latch onto an elusive something. It was hard to define, and it puzzled the Sith Master. Such feats were normally among her capabilities, but she had to settle for letting it go for now. It had piqued her interest; but she willed herself into following the course of action she had devised on her way to the system. Rushing wouldn't get her anywhere. As much as she had limited reserves of it given the shipwreck the last couple of weeks had been, she had to exhibit patience.

    The imperial presence was visible given the ships of various sizes in the system. Being in such setting brought her back to her years as a bounty hunter. It provoked a maelstrom of thoughts in her mind. It felt that she was a younger woman, but her mastery of the dark side confirmed she was who she was at this point of time.

    With a shrug, she refocused on the port of call planetoid where she was headed. It was where all ships stopped, unless she guessed they were in-system transportation, or possessed the technology to sustain the radiations that surrounded Sillesk. Her ship was reliable and well-upgraded, but her shields wouldn't put up with such radiations. And the thought of having the Ruby Wolf shut down in the middle of imperial space, even a mining colony, wasn't on her agenda.

    As she was given authorization and direction towards a specific docking bay, Baska followed instructions. From isolated Sith ruins all the way to imperial territory, fate appeared keen on challenging her anew.
    Last edited by Baska Tankreyd; Feb 20th, 2020 at 02:03:09 PM.

  14. #14
    The place was busier than Baska had first expected it to be. Civilians seemed to make for the bulk of the travelers going through the port. She saw a large number of them look like miners; but others were difficult to pinpoint. It was that she personally cared that much; but every bit of information she could glean might eventually serve her. She had no reason to linger in the system longer than needed. She wondered whether some of the civilians were actual locals coming home. Some people' attires were more professional-looking, and she wondered whether scientists made for a significant part of visitors.

    It was impossible to forget they were on imperial territory though. The important presence of soldiers and officers made it clear that unrest wouldn't be tolerated. Cogs in well-oiled wheels, as it was typical of imperials. She didn't really care, as long as she could stay under the radar. Many people might complain about following orders, but they nevertheless felt more comfortable staying in a cage. The cage could be gold-gilded, hiding under a veneer of democracy, or be a militaristic ostentatious display as the imperials at the port. It was their right, and Baska had no interest in enlightening them when they had no want or capacity to think for themselves.

    She blended with the crowd with ease. Having lived off the grid for so long made her an adequate drifter when need be. Dressed in a practical nondescript attired, the athletic blonde eventually stood in the line at the security checkpoint. She had grown used to sneak in and sneak out in remote locations, or just get lost in more cosmopolitan places, or just have no need to hide, period. She sensed the annoyance and unease of some people around her, for the imperial presence was commonly unsettling to many people.

    Baska just waited for her turn, for there was nothing else to do.

    When her turned finally came, she stood before the gate, handing her ID chip to the male officer requesting it. He gave her a scrutinizing look, inquiring about her reason to travel. She replied it was professional, choosing to keep things simple. It seemed to be enough, maybe moreso as a quarreling group of miners were causing some ruckus a couple of people down the line, behind her.

    Retrieving her ID chip, she passed through security after letting them inspect the two weapons and light pack she was carrying. Things went smoothly, and she was soon free to explore further into the spaceport and nearby facilities.

  15. #15
    The fact that the place was a mining colony was impossible to ignore, really. Baska was baffled as to why people would choose to visit Sillesk if they weren't miners or imperials; but that was irrelevant. She had accessed the public information terminal after going through the checkpoint. It gave her options as transport companies that commonly connected the planetoid and the rest of the system. The blonde didn't like relying on other people for transportation, but things were what they were.

    The terminal didn't provide much information about the planet itself, which meant that she would have to look around later. She at least had managed to get more specific locations about the two mining companies she had found connected to her late master. She checked on maps where they were located in comparison to the settlement name that had also appeared in her investigation. One of the mining companies had facilities attached to the settlement, so it likely was her best place to start.

    Aregos's journals and notes went back to a good many years ago; but it seemed that mining operations had been an ongoing affair on Sillesk, which might help her uncover things from her master's history.

    Pulling away from the public terminal, Baska had the brief impression she was being watched; but it dissipated shortly.

    Making her way to a transport company, she easily secured her way to the spaceport closest to the settlement. She now had two hours to kill until her shuttle departed. It seemed other destinations had a faster turnaround; but there was no reason to take detours.

    She took a convenient seat in the busy facilities, a wall behind her to avoid people peeking over her shoulder, but close enough to an exit, should any trouble arise. This gave her the opportunity to review the information she had copied from her master's notes to a datapad. If she was stuck here, she could as well try again to glean some extra details.

  16. #16
    "Attention, passengers for inbound flight Nextu-Seven-A-F," a male voice with a distinct Imperial accent spoke over the loudspeaker. "Your craft has docked. Refueling and maintenance procedures are underway. Boarding will begin in precisely 15 minutes."

    Though the voice did not add Don't be late in a stern tone of an academy headmaster at the end of the message, it was hard to miss the implication.

    Twenty minutes later, Baska had already settled into her seat for the flight to Sillesk. Another ten minutes saw her transport begin its journey to the inner ring of the system.

    "Greetings, gentlebeings," a more accommodating version of the spaceport announcer began speaking from the in-flight intercom. "And welcome to the Sillesk solar system. As you are likely aware by now, Sillesk sol is a potentially unique blue supergiant emitting constant waves of ion radiation. Although your trip to the outer planet Varad was not heavily impacted, this radiation increases the risk of intra-system travel by an additional order of magnitude once you have reached the system's inner ring. For this reason, flight beyond medium orbit of Sillesk II is strictly controlled."

    "As an Imperial Protectorate, the Sillesk system enjoys many benefits from its ongoing relationship with the Empire. Sillesk itself is home to a standard Imperial garrison to provide protection from any unlawful military intrusion into the system. It also boasts a profitable relationship with multiple mining consortia, income from which has been used to secure the habitat-stabilization technology that makes Sillesk II enjoyable to live on. While visiting the inner system, travelers to the capitol of Aushti are advised to visit Chesswalk Square, a truly unique park designed and executed by botanical architect Gauss Dremol. This garden series interweaves with the city around it in both aesthetic and practical ways, making it the perfect heart of a thoroughly-planned Imperial community. While enjoying your stay, be mindful that breaches of the Imperial code for civilian conduct may carry significant financial penalties or liberty restrictions. And now, please prepare for a brief word from the ranking Protectorate official and Commander of IBG One-Eleven, Admiral Rigel Bismarck."

    "Greetings, traveler,” a polished, urbane voice offered as a friendly welcome. “This is Rigel Bismarck, Admiral of the Empire. So long as you maintain peaceful and orderly manner during your stay, you will encounter no hostility from the Imperial Governance and Security forces stationed here. These forces are present to ensure the punctual growth of Sillesk from a mining colony into a full member-world of the Empire. Under the auspices of the Imperial Model Society program, this planet will gain access to fabulous science, technology, commerce, and cultural growth opportunities - opportunities which those willing to live up to the standards of Imperial citizenship may partake in. We hope what you see inspires you to return and to join the Empire in the grand effort of building something greater than ourselves. Thank you, and enjoy your stay."

    With that, the recording clicked away to more standard messaging regarding in-flight emergency protocols. Those ended after five minutes, and another uneventful two hours, thirty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds later, the in-system transport detached from its protective shieldship and flew down to a landing platform just outside the only major cluster of buildings visible on the planet. Everything, declared the arrival/departure schedule display by the exit ramp, had occurred precisely on schedule.
    Last edited by Rigel Bismarck; Feb 19th, 2020 at 11:12:02 PM.

  17. #17
    Maybe the implication that tardiness was no option could feel like a scolding to some weak individuals; but Baska could appreciate things working as they should. Baska didn't like abiding by other's rules for what mattered to her; but she also liked not having to rely on useless people. So far, nobody had gone into her way and it was as well. She still felt that fleeting tremor in the Force, and she knew that she was onto something. Hopefully said something would bring actual answers for what she was looking for.

    She heard some chitchat exchanged among other passengers; but was glad anyone nearby ignored her. She had no desire for idle conversation.

    The blonde's only disappointment was being unable to watch outside, because she bet that the sight of the inner ring was a good one. She was used to be in the pilot's seat, and witnessing unusual space as she flew to new destinations had always been a favorite. She liked seeing where she was going and take as much or little time as she saw fit.

    The next announcement brought her back to the present. She took in all the information about Varad, Sillesk, and Sillesk II, including the whole radiation business. Knowledge was always key, and as a predator she knew better than to gloss over what others could consider superfluous details.

    She had expected imperial propaganda, for any strong political faction delighted into rambling about its own benefits. Yet she was surprised at the mention of the civilized dimension of what she had thought was merely a mining colony. That surprised her and almost made her genuinely curious about the place, even though she had no idea where her mission would take her. Still, it was a surprise. Having mingled from farmlands all the way to noble courts, the Sith Master knew very well how appearances could be deceiving. The Empire held this duality of brute force and sleek elegance. Some argued that one was more significant than the other but the blonde knew that expertise and elegance could use force in grand, devious, and useful ways. Thrashing something could be handy, and utterly satisfying, but anyone possessing a high degree of intelligence knew that nothing was simple and having more than one card up the sleeve was clever.

    She tucked the Admiral's name in the corner of her mind as well, and listened to what he stated, restating in better wording what had been said right before. Yet, she perked up at the mention of science and technology. That was a good sign, and might explain why her late mentor had had ties there. The mention of culture made the historian and artifact hunter in her curious too. The whole "Imperial Model Society" thing on the other hand made her inwardly scoff.

    Yet she was a little surprised that this Admiral might be so eager to bring in new blood and talents. It wasn't always the case with imperials. Or maybe they were just allergic to bounty hunters and now Force users as well. She recall some disgusted stares at her upon deliveries of her targets. Yet the elite was always more than eager to have others get their hands dirty instead of their own.

    Once only the humming of the engines and the quiet chatter of other passengers surrounded her, Baska tuned out and dozed off. She could as well use the upcoming couple of hours to get extra rest.
    Last edited by Baska Tankreyd; Feb 20th, 2020 at 03:35:58 PM.

  18. #18
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    Heyrina Tankreyd's Avatar
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    The liquid surrounding her prevented her from opening her eyes. Heyrina only wished that she could stop hearing as well. She needed no sight of the horrors unfolding around her for its sounds to freeze her bones and marrow into pure fright. She always went back to this place, even though she couldn't comprehend it. It was as if she was more cogent than she should have been in all of his attempts at bringing her to life, summoning her from the beyond to which her mother had birthed her many years ago.

    She heard the hiss of a nearby tank sliding open after most of its watery content had been siphoned. The gurgles and coughing shook her whole body.

    When her bare hands and knees hit the hard floor, she realized it was her who had been freed. Such an ironic term for what would result into more tests and experiments.

    She blinked her eyes open, focusing on the sterile floor before her. She squinted when she realized it wasn't as spotless as it used to be, as if it had been abandoned for a long time...

    The air reeked of medical products and seared her struggling lungs.

    She felt her body collapsing and curled up in a ball on the floor, crying bitter and useless tears.

    In the next moment she was back in the tank, just another one. This time it was void of liquid so she could gaze outside of her glass prison.

    She realized her body was one of a child again, the child she usually was and yet never was.

    Sitting down, she wrapped her arms around her knees, shivering.

    It was then that she heard footsteps approaching. Too many people; but lots of them came to a halt away from her sight. They all stopped at once with impeccable timing.

    She pressed her face against the glass when she sensed her. She had almost no memories of her mother; but she recognized the life force that had tried so far to sustain her and kept her memory alive after the tragedy.

    What was her mother doing here? And who was the man in uniform with her?

    It was too late for her mother to save her after all. She was a sad dream on good days, a nightmare on bad ones.

  19. #19
    Baska's eyes shot open the moment the shuttle landed. Her posture didn't betray anything from the dream she just had. The vision was still viscerally imprinted into her psyche. Once again she didn't have a surefire way to interpret what she had seen, heard, and experienced from her daughter's point of view. The weird push and pull between her hopes, fears, and the genuine possibility that her progeny had survived was puzzling; but she held onto the hope that it contained clues that would point her to the right direction.

    She needed answers, and she would get them, no matter the price.

    She was keenly aware of how the dark side could play with one's weaknesses, just as it could provide guidance for those ready to jump through fire. Time would tell what would unravel.

    She disembarked quietly along the other passengers. Her eyes looked up to the skies as soon as she stood on solid ground outside. She felt a pull towards further into the inner ring of the system. There was only so much one could see with the naked eye, but she trusted her Force-imbued instincts.

    Focusing on the task at hand, she checked the various information panels. There wasn't much to see outside of the mining operations, and she hoped that she would have no need to go tinker with the imperial garrison.

    She began exploring the cluster of buildings, finding three different mining companies for what she could gather. She found the one that Alienor tracked down based on her late master's notes. She walked up to the information desk, and the man there looked at her with a neutral expression.

    "Greetings, how may I help you?"

    She was a remarkable liar and had no qualm about being treacherous when need be, so her posture wouldn't betray anything.

    "Hi, my name is Baska. I am looking for one of your former employers."

    He subtly narrowed his eyes at her. She made sure she wasn't looking threatening. Playing the semi-goodie two shoes was always a challenge but she was a good actress.

    "This sounds awfully vague and we do not provide such information lightly."

    Grand, just grand.

    She slightly dipped her head, slopping her shoulders just a little.

    "I understand; and I wish I had an easier way to contact him."

    She paused, sensing his curiosity as well as his annoyance with her.

    "I'm looking for my biological father. I know he used to work as a scientist here for several years."

    Given that her stupid brother had even called her a bastard back when he had tossed her out, that ironically held some truth, even though she knew for certain that she was her father's daughter.

    "Do you have a name?"

    She'd rather already look through their records and let the Force guide her; but it wasn't an option. So she had to go for her next second best bet.

    "His name is Koron."


    The woman in her fifties sitting at a workstation further away in the room, looked up at once.

    "Do you mean Dr. Koron Sterak?"

    Baska nodded without hesitation. She doubted two Korons happened to work here at the same time. She felt it in her guts her assumption was correct.Sh

    The hopeful expression lighting her face up was partially genuine.

    "I believe he worked on some medical projects."

    She was going off from what she had seen in her dream aboard the shuttle, as well as the one she had had back on Iego.

    The woman stepped forward and looked at her with extensive scrutiny.

    "We rarely see wayward adult children come all the way here. Dr. Sterak was a formidable mind and a friend."

    The reception employee seemed dubious but kept his mouth shut.

    "I would have come many years ago, had I known."

    It was the beauty of lies rooted in other truths.

    "I only recently learned about our connection."


    The woman's sharp gaze remained upon her.

    "We haven't seen him in a few years; but rumor was that he was hired for a confidential project."

    The Sith Master repressed the need to smirk given that his death had definitely been kept under wraps after she had burned his remains.

    "From what I heard he was brilliant and always pushed the envelope."

    The woman's posture relaxed a little. It was working.

    "He was. As a native from Sillesk who was trained to work with the unusual resources, he was one of a kind."

    Baska was wary that it was going all too easy; but if she could get this woman talking, then she'd make the best of it.

    "It is good to hear more about him, ma'am," she replied with a nod.

    "I am Planning Associate Leyra Amink."

    The reception clerk clearer his throat.

    "Associate Amink, with all due respect, we know little about this stranger and we have other matters to tend to."

    Here it was, the magic breaker.

    Amink pursed her lips, considering his words. Baska wanted to toy with his mind; but she didn't want to risk exposing herself with the surveillance systems she knew were there, and she didn't want to draw attention to her.

    "Well, there isn't much more I can offer anyway, Miss Baska. I hope you're able to find Dr. Sterak. Please give him my regards if you see him."

    Baska mentally cursed for her one opening to poof into thin air so quickly.

    "Of course."

    She was about to head out when she asked the last question that might gain her some information.

    "Is there anyone else around here he was close to? I'd like to hear more about him, you know."

    She looked at sweet as possible without looking like a Rancor posing as a Jax cub.

    She knew that she had overstayed her welcome with the clerk; but she hoped that Amink would play along.

    "Mmm. I'm not sure he's still here; but Dr. Sterak's former pilot, Ternes, used to live at the edge of the compound, near the garrison."

    The clerk scoffed.

    "I thought he died two years ago. The old man could barely fly a ship anymore."

    Amink glared at him and the clerk hanged his head, busying himself with his monitor.

    "Thank you again," Baska replied before leaving the building.

    As much as she trusted the Force to guide her, and she knew that Sillesk would bring some answers, she hadn't expected to go chase some old fart who used to work as a pilot.

  20. #20
    The Imperial garrison on Sillesk was not difficult to find. Despite the cluster of tall buildings that made up Aushti obscuring the things behind them, the periodic mechanical thump of AT-ST walkers on base patrol echoed throughout the city. For all the implications of grandeur offered by the in-flight messages, the city was more buildings than people at this stage in its development. Given the sparseness of the crowds, ambient noise would likely not overtake that sound for some time.

    Getting to the garrison meant passing most of the city proper, including the skyhook, a watchful tower overlooking the area. Of course, it wasn't fair to say the skyhook overlooked the garrison. The skyhook overlooked everything, which the garrison simply happened to be part of.

    Passing the skyhook (which one had to do from quite a distance) commuters could see the opening to large underground road and railways extending in the direction of the garrison. While the exact layout wasn't obvious, it was clear that each structure had been built with the idea of reinforcing the other in mind.

    Behind the skyhook, but not between it and the garrison, a smaller cluster of residential housing and shops sprouted from the landscape. Approaching those buildings, one could finally see the construction of the city give way to forested lands. While some of the forest flora sprouted large, tall, and teal, the more common foliage was of medium size with purple-hued leaves. Had the sun not been at mid-day, the coloring might have given the nearby city a subdued look.

    It was in this cluster that one K. Ternes lived with an appropriately-labeled mail caddy helpfully identifying him to visitors. Currently, Ternes himself sat on the front stoop of his one-story residence. A rag in one hand, a polish-able item in the other, and a faraway look in his eye were the only things occupying his time.

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