Kul’tak Drol: https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/members/13819/character_sheet
Laren Uscot: https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/members/12946/character_sheet

"You summoned me, Drol?" said Laren Uscot.

"Mmm, indeed.” Kul'tak Drol responded.

“So what's so important that you called me here in the middle of the ni -"

“I have felt a disturbance in the Force, Laren,” Kul’tak said, cutting Laren off. “There were - glimpses of our suffering.”

“Listen, I understand you Force-types and your rituals about as much as I understand anatomy. How the hell does this whole ‘vision’ thing work -”

"*Silence*," Kul'tak hissed.

"..."

“Do you not see the significance?” Kul’tak roared. “I have killed more sentients than I can count. I have wielded power that can bring rulers to their knees. The Force is my weapon and my servant, and yet - yet it also seems to be our undertaker.”

“What are you saying, Drol? Are we in danger?” Laren finally asked.

"Were you followed, Laren? Who have you spoken to in the last two rotations? Where have you *been*?"

"First you speak of visions, and now you seek to interrogate me?” Laren growled.

"*Where*, Laren?"

"I had business to take care of off-world for House Ajunta Pall. You know I can't talk about it. What is this about, man?"

"Can I trust you?" rumbled Kul’tak.

"About as far as your blade can reach. But in our mutual endeavor, we want the same outcome."

“The Force works in mysterious ways. Even now the shroud of the Dark Side obscures our future. Yet it has shown us this. Why now?”

“Listen, I have questions about your ‘vision’ in a second. But I need real details, man. Speak!”

Kul'tak sighed. "You deny your association with the Inquisitorius, but I have embraced it. One learns to wade through the sea of lies and villainy, listening for the smallest shreds of truth. I have real evidence that..." Kul'tak's voice was no more than a whisper when he continued, "They suspect us, Laren."

"... Are you certain?" Laren finally asked.

"I would risk my life to prove this truth," Kul'tak replied.

"I'll take you up on that someday," the Pantoran quipped.

"They will have dispatched an asset to confirm their suspicions, if there isn't one here already."

"But would they inform the Dread Lord of their suspicions? She is, after all, the source of our deceit."

"Doubtful. She is as loyal to the Inquistorius and the Brotherhood as it is to the Clans. Both see the other as tools to be used, being kept at an arm's length - no more, and no less. But Laren..." the Warrior trailed off. "My concern lies in the fact they suspect us in the first place. How do they know?"

"Considering we're still alive, there is no way they have any solid evidence. Perhaps our association here has been noticed."

"Or perhaps an analysis has determined we have the most to gain and the least to lose if Selika was removed from power?" The Zabrak mused.

“There is no way to be sure.”

"I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place,” Kul’tak brooded.

“Like any good spy, your loyalty lies to yourself first - I hope.”

“I see all, question all.”

"Well spoken. In this case, we have far too many unanswered questions, and no answers to show for it. You discovered all this… from a vision?” Laren asked softly.

“By having a connection with the Force, it will sometimes provide users glimpses in time. In this case, it was our future.”

“The future, hmm? Are the outcomes you see absolute?”

“It is never for certain. For all the knowledge and power we possess, not even the Sith can control their fate. But there are times when the Force acts of its own will, seeking to manipulate events beyond our control.”

“Is it the Force at work, or an enemy we have not foreseen?”

“Everyone beyond this room is a potential enemy to our goals. Friends are a luxury for the weak, and the Jedi.”

"Choice words, Kul'tak," Laren said, laughing.

"The Grand Master's hand touches all. Can I trust you to stay the course, mercenary?"

"You ask the wrong question. I - like you - trust no one, not even myself. I put what trust I can muster into *something*. Is it better to trust in an unknown future, or accept that our enemies know they have won?"

"..."

"Have you nothing to add?" Laren finally asked.

"For a mere mercenary, you carry a wisdom beyond your status."

"Wisdom is great, but I've learned to respect the man with the bigger stick - or in your case, claws. And that precious Force of yours."

“What use are claws and my power against a potential doom we cannot avoid?”

“You’re the man with the visions, Kul’tak. You tell me.”

This was an extremely strange story to try and write. I apologize in advance for what was produced.

I had this SUPER awesome pdf designed with funky texts and everything only to have my computer fart on me at the last
minute. So instead, here ya go:

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The new Aedile gritted her teeth in frustration. She stared at the mirror before her and observed how her amber eyes flickered in the candlelight, the only source of light in the room. She was in a dormitory within the Tipoca II medical station, far away from what desolation her home Judecca had become. Tears streamed down her face as she tightened her fists which rested on the desk before her. Swirls of different emotions flooded the inner precincts of her mind: rage, fury, sorrow, mourning, anxiousness. What would happen now that the Cocytus System was lost? Where would the Clan go? Could she be the right Leader she needed to be during this suspenseful time? With the Grand Master practically on their tail with the whole Brotherhood fleet ready to slaughter them all, she wasn’t sure. Somehow she had to lead her new House into victory.

*Well, at least Braecen is here with us now. He’ll know what to do*, Alara attempted to comfort herself. Though she had not been under his leadership long, Alara trusted the Adept and his long experience which accompanied his wisdom. He had seen many a battle before. He’ll get them out of this one too.

*But against Grand Master Pravus and his maniacal schemes? * Alara sighed in disgust at the thought of them and lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her sharply sculpted cheeks.

*Follow his leadership. Allow him to shape you who you will become.*

“But will I truly follow him? To the ends of the universe?” Alara looked up at herself once more, inspecting her serious face and worry-filled eyes. “He’s a Sith, after all. A Krath adherent at that. I’m a Dark Jedi. I have to follow what I feel is true.”

But what is it that I actually feel? The different paths of the Force seemed to play tug-of-war with her heart which only made her question her instincts more. She venerated the power the Dark Side would bestow on her when she called. But inside her heart would ache and yearn to cling to what is true; to be a better version of herself.

The half-Sephi let out a scoff, blew out the candle harshly and flopped onto her bed. She tossed and turned in attempts to get comfy until she finally laid on her back to stare at the curved ceiling of her small room.

*It must be getting late.* She glanced over at her datapad that laid on the make shift end table beside her bed to quench her curiosity. *23:30pm. Oy.*

The Marauder wasn’t tired in the slightest. The torture of being torn separate ways fueled her energy far too much. She couldn’t stop worrying about which path to truly choose.

*The Dark Side provides such power. That kind of power could save the Clan. I know what I can do without it, imagine what I could be with it on my side. Within my grasp. But what will Shadow think of me? She’s Sith too, but even in her eyes true evil is unnecessary…*

Before she could release another sigh from her tensed lungs, her datapad beeped to announce an incoming message across its screen:

**QUA: Alara, come quick. Summit meeting in council hall. Now.**

Alara threw herself at the datapad in rushed attempts to respond:

**Alara: On my way.**

Adrenaline and anxiety jetted through her veins as she leapt from her bed and towards her dormitory’s exit.

Perhaps, at least for now, she would allow Braecen to guide her in leadership. However, she would follow her heart as a true guide that would deem what is necessary. This could be too much trust in herself, that is true. But it was all she could do right now. At least with not much thought.

*Oh Alara, you’re rather good at putting important decisions off… especially when they involve yourself.*

Lucyeth
#13700

Brandon Tarsus was sitting down alone by the river. He was enjoying the peace and quiet presented to himself by nature. When Tarsus wasn't with his lover, he enjoyed being by the river. The sound of the wind, rushing water, and birds singing soothed the beast within the Mandalorian mercenary. As much as Tarsus loved to fight, he also loved peace and tranquility. Even the mighty lion that is his fighting spirit must rest from time to time.

As Tarsus embellished the peaceful scene that nature provided, the sound of familiar footsteps came from behind him. It was his Battlemaster, Shadow Nighthunter. The beautiful Sith sat down next to him.

“Enjoying nature?” She asked as she too began to enjoy the peace.

“Always,” Tarsus said as he looked at Sith, who was a wolf at heart. “What brings you here?”

“Another assignment,” she said as she handed him a tablet. “Rek Xavis… a man that is wanted for crimes. He has a huge bounty that would bring forth much funds to Tacitus Athanasius. Authorities want him dead rather alive.”

“So, he's dangerous, huh?”

“Indeed. You can find him in the underworld of Coruscant.” Shadow looked at Tarsus. “Having a merc in TA has brought forth much more profitability than I could have imagined. Although Scholae does fund us well… The extra funding is much appreciated.”

Tarsus chuckled as he looked back at Shadow. “I'm sure there are other reasons why.”

“Oh, shut up,” Shadow told Tarsus as she blushed. “I'm trying to be professional here, ya brute. Just get the job done.”

A week has passed as Tarsus tracked this Rek to the underworld of Coruscant. The merc was at a bar having a few drinks to blend in. He watched his target from afar. Rek was really enjoying his time at the bar as he got drunk. It was amusing, honestly. The fool was too comfortable in the dark corners of Coruscant. The man let his guard down.

Tarsus decided to make his move. The fighting lion within needed to get out and fight. The tall Mandolorian mercenary stood up, and walked over to Rek. Tarsus’ inner lion began claw inside of him, begging for a fight. Soon, Tarsus had no choice but to let the beast out. With a loud roar, Tarsus pulled out his stiletto and stabbed Rek through the head. He pulled the blade out of his target’s skull, and Rek fell down to the ground dying quickly. Everyone screamed in fear at the sight. A bouncer rushed at Tarsus with a baton. He swung at Tarsus, but Tarsus grabbed his assailant’s hand. With lightning speed and strength, Tarsus stabbed the bouncer twice in the side, and once in the neck. The bouncer fell to the ground bleeding as he died. A random brawler rushed Tarsus. The merc was quick as he kicked a chair into the man’s face. The brawler fell forward, and Tarsus quickly shoved his knife into the back of his head. The lion within was enjoying the fight. More men rushed Tarsus. He quickly made good work with his foes. With a beautiful combination of speed and strength, Tarsus killed five more men with his small blade. The rest decided it was best to run.

"I need to do this more often," the merc thought to himself.