Long Lost

[Just Matt Now]

Bursting through the outer atmosphere of Ryoone, otherwise known as Brimestone, and into the vast darkness of space is a lone Z-95 Headhunter. Devoid of any indications or markings as to the fighters affiliation, it belonged to a man who had been in this universe longer than most. With a new fixation that had cost him the past decade and continued to drive him towards mastery. Knowledge is what he sought, and knowledge is where the fighter was headed. Vixur Kholvar sat in the cockpit, fully satiated from the specimen he had fed from. Locked away and kept out of earshot from anything short of the indigenous feline with impecable hearing that grazed the planetside. Brimestone was where the Anzat had rested, where he would call home if the term had any meaning to him. The lone wolf preferred his isolation, preferred not receiving help from anyone. Although there was only so much he could teach himself in the Force. Only so long he could go on without needing the help of others. And when he did need their help, he sought out holocrons. Devices used by Sith lords of the past. Devices he could tap in to in order to further his own knowledge and power. When he needed to learn, he preferred learning from the dead.

The rattled, beat-up, and unmarked fighter shot further into space.

Shame hadnt come easy for the centuries old being. He could honestly care less of what others thought of him. Though his mission had gotten far from him. Passed down from the Dark Lord himself, to infiltrate the rebellion through the Imperial Knights. He would have returned to the Order a master assassin, accessing all of the secrets and holocrons the Dark Lord could muster. Fortune did not follow him on this journey. His progression through the Imperial Knight ranks soared, and he was trusted among them, despite knowing his past. He fooled and persuaded them all that he had changed his alignment, that he no longer fought for the Sith like he had fought against the Jedi on Alsaken. Killing less there than he did on Coruscant, though so little did they know.

The feigned Sith progressed though his mission until adversity overcame all, including the Imperial Knights. Once more lost into the history books, the Knights were no more. And no more was the Dark Lord who had sent him on this mission. The one and only person who knew of his treachery, knew the falsehood and knew what it would have brought the Empire had things went a different way. Vereor was gone. And so was Vixurs future with the Sith...or so he thought.

Feeling shame for what had happened, he progressed on. Watching every move the Sith made, taking Thyferra, war with the Hutts, and eventually the peace. Though what brought him more joy was the Jedi. Rooting them out of their holes like vermin, killing as many as they could, purging out the rest of the scum that managed to survive Coruscant. Something Vixur could get behind. Though he was sure there was a bounty on his head. Leading the Imperial Knights group of terrorists who attacked Imperial cities and outposts. Little did they know the reason those attacks were thwarted were because of him.

In search of another holocron was his primary focus. His dislike and distaste for Jedi would come second to that. Only through knowledge could he defeat his enemies. In order to fight the Jedi, he needed to strengthen himself and become the weapon the Sith wanted him to be, one he wanted himself to become. Punching in the coordinates he had gotten form his latest lead, he was on his way to self empowerment.

 

[The Kyzer]

"I swear to you! That's all I know!"

"I believe you."

Those were the last words Carath Paolus uttered and heard before his life was extinguished by a nightmarish figure armed with a great onyx sword. The Corellian's head hit the floor with a sickening thud before his body collapsed next to it. The tall warrior cleaned its blade of the gore before sheathing it once more. Beneath the heavy black cloak and battle armor, a woman mulled over the man's confession. His associate and he had located an artifact the day before here on Uviuy Exen for a man named Chutzpan. So her original source had been correct after all.

At just that moment, a young boy, a street urchin, ran into the alleyway and hopped into a broken-down trash compactor. Adrasteia looked at this with mild fascination before two local police officers entered the alleyway armed with heavy stun batons and riot shields.

"That little punk's around here somewhere," one declared gruffly, kicking over a pile of crates in an attempt to flush the boy from his hiding place.

"Oi, you there!" the other shouted at the tall humanoid draped in black, "What do you think you're doin' back 'erreeeeEmpress' left tit! That man's been decapitated! You! Freeze!"

The police officers readied themselves for combat and approached Adrasteia slowly. The one on the left noticed the T-shaped visor beneath the hood and . She merely shook her head and produced a small palm-sized datapad.

"I'm an Imperial agent," she announced, her scrambled voice sounding like Hutt speaking Basic, "and this man was a criminal. Here are my references. You should know that reporting my presence here would be considered obstruction of justice by the Imperium."

One of the officers examined the credentials from a distance first before moving forward to actually read them over. A few seconds later he handed back the datapad with a curt nod before doing the same to his coworker.

"Did you happen to see a small boy come through here? He's stolen a councilman's wallet."

"Aye. He slipped into that building there. If you're fast, you might just catch him on the other side. He won't be able to use that door to escape again."

The policemen grunted in unison and charged off to capture their suspect. Adrasteia simply walked over to the trash compactor and knocked twice.

"You can come out now. They're gone."

A few tense seconds later, the lid slowly peeked open as the boy examined the alley with suspicion before he fully hopped out of the unit. He then examined his rescuer with even more suspicion.

"Why did you lie to them?"

"Because I've a better use for your talents, boy. You'll be working for me for the next day. Once the job is complete, you'll be paid handsomely and your criminal record expunged. Deal?"

"Deal. What's the job?"

"I need you to find someone. His name is Chutzpan."

The young man visibly quailed at the name. Adra squatted down to eye-level in an attempt to ease his anxiety. She had been labelled a monster, but she wasn't that terrible of a monster.

"You know him?"

"Chutzy is the boss 'round here. Some say he's a former Sith who decided to use his Force magic for his own greed, but there's a rumor that he works for an even worse boss who lives up at the Citadel."

"Do you know where I can find him?"

The young boy shook his head.

"Ain't nobody find Chutzy. Chutzy finds you."

Adrasteia nodded and pondered the boy's intel. Had Chutzpan already brought the holocron to his master? Doubtful. There was an Imperial garrison between the city and the castle, which was actually named Jorj Lu Castle, but the locals called it the Citadel.

"So we'll make him find us."

 

[Just Matt Now]

A small sense of nostalgia crossed over the Anzat as he made his way into the Shwuy Sector. There were few gangs and bandits he had never been face-to-face with in this area as it was the Shwuy Exchange was a nexus for sex trafficking and other nefarious affairs of that nature. This made it a fresh Anzats prime trade route in search for much needed soup, or sustenance. The urges nearly killing those of his species at young ages left them with no choice but to feed on the weak dregs of society, or those that could barely fend for themselves. Slaves and sex victims were the unfortunate first feeding choices for this young Anzat, that was until he became strong enough to feed on others. A smile crept across his face as he neared Uviuy Exen, reminiscing about a delectable young Twi'lek...one of his first targets.

Things were much easier now that he was a part of the Imperium. His designations and records gave him more and more leeway than he ever had while alone. Landing his craft being one of them. A Sith Crusader was given great treatment and respect, out of fear than anything else. And this was no ordinary fear that Vixur gave off. As he strode through the spaceport on his way to search for knowledge, those who caught a glimpse of the hooded and robed creature would feel the antagonizing threat of aura that Vixur emanated from himself using the Force. It was an interesting technique that he used to either intimidate or repel specified people. The walk through the busy spaceport proved easy, his aura acting as an escort. Stopping, Vixur opened up his datapad. Chutzpan was on this planet, and that meant so was the Holocron of Jorj Lu. The Anzat wanted to learn the powers of the Sith Master. Wanted his secrets and wanted his abilities. Him being a Sith and access to this information only made it that much easier. Hopefully he could stop this man from getting to his master, a Sith warrior Savij. Though Vixur would deal with him if need be. The master resided in a bastion outside of the city. No doubt Chutzpan would immediately head for it.

Outside of the spaceport crowds were still avoiding the hooded figure, Vixur could sense their fear, sense what emotions and power they had through the Force. He fed off of their emotions and fear, strengthening his ability. Passing through the streets, searching for signs of his target one alleyway was quite peculiar. Instead of criminals and drug dealers, there stood another hooded figure and a boy. Though what caught his attention was not the pair, but the lack of his ability to sense the figures Force connection. While normally he would pass this up, he did not want to take any chances of this being his target, OR of this being another member of the Order.

Sticking to the Shadows, Vixur remained unseen. He dampened his Force presence and shut his ability off, however letting it trickle out. If this figure was Force sensitive, they would weed him out regardless. He waited, wanting to see the figures face, or what they would be doing with this boy.

 

[The Kyzer]

The local nightclub, the Ravishing Rancor, was a typical hedonistic playground for Uviuy Exen's wealthy scum lords. Of course it was all a front for the local crime boss' illicit activities, but no one really cared. The police force was paid off and what few upstanding socialites the planet had were afraid of calling it out. So no one really batted an eye when one of the local street urchins stormed in and made a beeline towards the massive doors near the back that officially weren't there.

"I need to talk to the boss!" the boy declared adamantly to the two massive Trandoshan guards.

"You don't get to decccccide when you talk to the bosssss," one answered, "The bosssss deccccidessss when he talk to you, worm. Get out!"

"But it's about his special shipment today! There's a trap!"

The two looked at each other for a moment before grabbing the boy roughly by the shoulders and dragging him through the doors. Inside was a spice den filled with thick smoke, dancing Twi'lek slave girls, and other criminal "luxuries". The young human was tossed toward the back of the room where a large man holding a strange pyramidal device sat. He put away the device before looking at his guards and their guest.

"Speak."

"You're delivering a shipment to the Citadel tonight, right? It's a trap! The Imperials know about it and have prepared to attack you as soon as you leave the city!"

The man growled slightly at the thought, leaning forward as he did. Only then did the boy see that he was a scarred Red Sith with black tattoos and yellowed fangs.

"How did you learn of this, boy?"

"I stole one of their comlinks and listened in," he answered with a shrug.

"Do you have it with you?"

"Of course," the boy replied and produced the tiny device. He handed it to one of the guards who in turn handed it to their leader.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, you're the mighty Chutzpan," the boy answered, his voice wavering a little.

"It is good that you know who to fear. It has led you to come to me rather than go to the Imperials."

The large Red Sith stood up to address his crime captains.

"Boys, new plan! We're moving up our timetables and leaving now for the Citadel. We'll go light and fast so get your shit and some boys and let's get moving!"

A chorus of cheers and groans answered him as the gangsters got up and got ready. None of them even noticed that the boy had disappeared.

 

[Cross]

The night was a cold one. The cool air flared up the nostrils, dragging along the rancid smell of sex and other bodily fluids that emanated from every filthy corner of this crevasse they called a city. Disgusting. First came fighting lizards in the oven people called a planet, and now retrieving an artefact from a slimy grimy little Red Sith in a sex trafficking hotspot. The glamorous lifestyle of the Sith never ceases to amaze... the holocron should prove an interesting tool, however.

The alleyway saw the occasional couple, too drunk to notice or care about the man standing alone in a suit of armour, Valin Thorne. This lonely street was but a few minutes away from the Rancor, an adorable little hut Eris's contacts had directed him towards, when she told him to persuade this Chutzpan to gift him the holocron. As the clock ticked away the time until the Red Sith's Crew was ripe for the picking, Thorne was surprised by a call: Zed. Interesting little fellow who knew insisted on calling himself by a single letter quite possibly because of some teenage dream to become a spy, that eventually led to a promising career as a snitch in the middle of nowhere. How the soon-to-be Darth's web reached as wide as this little critter remained surprising, to say the least, but that, were thoughts Thorne could not afford to have, at this time.

His head's UI system beeped, signalling an incoming message. Something had rattled the red Sith's cage, and he was on the move much earlier than predicted. Having an idea of the path they'd be taking, Thorne would hop onto his Empire-lent speeder bike and move to cut them off. Being a few minutes off, it probably would have been a failed attempt, were it not for the fact that whatever had forced Chutzpan's hand remained out there.

The sudden appearance of third party was not a good sign. However, Thorne retained the upper hand, in his mind. Having come prepared and trusting his skills to be able to manage and feed off of utter chaos, a sly grin found its way into the Acolyte's face, in spite of the unfavourable odds, as he made his way towards the traitorous Sith and his posse.

 

[The Kyzer]

"Boss, we're packed and ready to move out."

"Took you schuttas long enough. You should have been done an hour ago, damn it!"

"Sorry, boss, but the repulsor lifts on yer personal transport blew out."

"We just had the frakking thing fixed a month ago!"

"I know, boss, I know. I called up Rory's Shop and they fixed it fer free."

"Damn well better have. Would hate to kill that slimy shithead. Alright, mount up. Let's get kickin', boy."

Five minutes later, two armed speeders and four speeder bikes escorted a rather flamboyantly-colored light red A-A5 speeder truck. A heavy repeater has been attached to the roof of the speeder truck and a huge Trandoshan male manned it. They burst out of the city and took the old road to the Citadel. It would take about an hour over land to reach Jorj Lu Castle. Chutzpan sat in his vehicle and examined the holocron once more. Those who had heard of his acquisition of the treasure had wondered why he hadn't immediately handed it over to his master. It was simple.

1. His Master had been off-world until today.
2. Chutzpan himself wanted to study it privately.

He prepared to activate the little pyramidal device one last time and listen to the ancient words of the Sith Lord but he stopped when he felt his transport slow down. The red Sith looked up and out of the front windshield to see what was the matter. A lone figure stood in the road carrying what looked like a...was that a shield? What was this? Some kind of joke?

"Run him over."

The truck and its escorts sped up again. 300 meters...200 meters...100 meters...50 meters...suddenly Chutzpan's world was turned literally upside-down as the speeder truck was flipped into the air by a series of improvised explosive devices. The speeder bikes were unaffected as they were too spread out but the armed speeders were tossed aside with ease.

 

[Cross]

The blast resounded throughout the nearing blocks, allowing the incoming Acolyte to pinpoint and make his way into the fight fairly easily. Bits and pieces of speeder and speeder bike strewn across the street were hard to miss, even from a distance. Clearly, this had been a planned assault. To jump directly into the fray without prior knowledge of events would be playing into the attacker's hands. Lacking both man-power and prior knowledge of the location, Valin's best chance would rely on remaining out of sight for the time being.

As the dust began to settle, the Acolyte's suit would trigger its macrobinocular vision, to reveal a single silhouette, standing amidst the rubble and enemy speeders, just as he should've been. Only, this one held what appeared to be ... a shield? Who or whatever this was, the matter was clearly not normal. In Thorne's mind, there would've been no good reason for someone to equip such a rustic weapon in this day and age, which could only mean that either this person had meticulously thought things through, or were a little on the crazy side; neither of which placed the man in a good spot. This wild card proved a bigger issue than he'd initially believed, and he hadn't even done anything, yet.

Standing in the shade below the moonlit sky, the opportunist would bide his time, slowly moving through the unchecked grass, away from sight and therefore mind, patiently logging away the details of the ordeal in his mind in hopes of finding the right moment to pounce.