Dark Ascent Arx, Arx System
The Regent of the Brotherhood entered into his office suite with a rough stride, his expertly crafted armor covered in varying amounts of soot and blast marks. Behind him trailed the Ascent‘s chief medical officer, insisting he seek medical attention. The door closed behind them.
“No,” the Mandalorian’s voice boomed with an otherworldly echo, “I will not.”
The Mandalorian General didn’t allow anyone besides Aisha to perform things medically related on him unless it was absolutely necessary, or he was unconscious and unable to yell at them to find the Zeltron-Hapan hybrid. She was usually never far, but sometimes wandered. His heavily armored form turned, and raised an arm in the direction of the door. His index finger pointed at it. The medic needed no further words or instructions. He threw his hands in the air in frustration, before turning on his heel and proceeding out of the office. As the door slid open and back closed again, Bes'uliik suspired heavily. What a train wreck that visit had been. The Mandalorian had made a trip to Kasiya to pay tribute to the recently erected statue of his missing friend Appius Wight, and somehow Collective agents had managed to blow the Exchange’s flagship Cosinga-class Heavy Corvette Eternal to smithereens. Now the Exchange fleet was without its flagship and main dignitary vessel, and to make matters worse Zxyl was paranoid about additional Collective attacks.
The Regent sat down at the large obsidian slate that was his desk, deciding to drown himself in work instead to get his mind off of it. Flipping open the golden-cased portable terminal that sat peacefully on his desk, he began pressing various keys on it to bring up recent reports and findings of interesting topics by various members of the Brotherhood.
One of those reports had very interesting findings and implications, the main words in sticking in his head Malfearak Asvraal and Nihilite. After digging through the findings for a short while later, the Regent had come to a decision that he needed to learn more and be properly introduced to this individual. He had seen credit reports of funds being sent to the Kessurian, but did not have the opportunity of meeting the man thus far. That was about to change.
In a quickly worded message, the Dathomirian-Mandalorian sent a summons to the Odanite to visit the Dark Ascent for a proper introduction, and to discuss further the matter.
Malfearak Asvraal was escorted out of the turbolift into a large chamber by a calm, all-too-formal human woman. He had tried to converse with her on the ride up but she only smiled at him, a soft smile, a smile of pity, and now, without a word, she signaled for him to follow her with a graceful wave of her hand. The Kessurian archaeologist did as asked, shadowing her as they crossed the length of the lavishly decorated space. As he walked, he took note of the exquisite pieces of history on display in transparisteel display cases. It was an impressive collection. He had been to the Dark Ascent on a few occasions. Most often, he was called upon to report to and deliver his findings to one of a succession of Headmasters and Headmistresses. Then there was the time he had met with the Justicar, an impressive man, learned, calm, and calculating, whose most striking features were his golden eyes. The man had recently been promoted to the position of Deputy Grand Master of the Brotherhood. An honor, indeed. But never had he stopped on this floor. As they reached the far end of the chamber, the woman stopped and stepped aside, once more motioning towards a door with grace. She offered him that pitying smile.
He wondered if perhaps he should be worried. It was true it wasn’t every day that one was summoned by the Regent of the Brotherhood, but it had not crossed his mind that he may be in trouble of some sort. After countless years working for the Shadow Academy in anonymity—something he did not mind, truth be told—his name as a researcher and archaeologist was gaining traction. Indeed, that was why the former Justicar had called upon his services months prior, and it was likely why Zxyl Bes’uliik had done so now.
Or so he hoped.
He stopped as he reached the woman and turned his head to look at her, a frown on his lips.
“How does one address the Regent?” he asked.
The pitying smile only seemed to intensify but to his surprise, she spoke around it, “Master would be appropriate.”
He nodded then turned his attention to the doorway before him. He adjusted his robes, breathed in and out, then stepped forward. The door parted with a swish revealing the Regent’s office and the massive desk made of obsidian. His eyes did a quick sweep of the place, lavish and functional, with an impressive array of items laid about. The Regent stared out the window with his back to him, fists firmly planted on his hips, his broad silhouette outlined by the light pouring him from outside. Armored from head to toe in master-crafted armor, he was a sight to behold. He oozed power. Perhaps it was his stature in the Brotherhood, but despite being shorter than Malfearak, the Dathomirian-Mandalorian seemed to tower above him.
“Master Bes’uliik. I am Malfearak Asvraal.”
Zxyl had spent his time before the Odanite’s arrival plotting his eventual revenge against the Collective for what they had done. Though the Mandalorian General had brought back the cell’s leader for interrogation, his cell destroyed, there was still much to be done. Much seemed to be “in the air” so to speak, and he knew not of what lied next. Not long before Malfearak’s arrival, the Dathomirian-Mandalorian had pushed the that train of thought from his mind, and decided to focus on the present. By the time the wanderer had arrived, Bes'uliik had already freed his armor of its soot and blast marks. As the door opened behind him, he made no movement.
The Naur'alor did however turn as the Kessurian addressed him, removing his hands from his hips. He raised a hand.
“Regent or General is fine, Malfearak,” stated the Regent as he took a seat behind his desk, the dark otherworldly echo mimicking his every word. His arm switched to a position that motioned for Asvraal to take a seat in one of the two chairs on the other side. With his raised arm he carefully closed the portable terminal that lay on his desk, shifting it off to the side carefully. The two had much to discuss regarding the Kesurrian’s findings on the Nihil and these Nihilite that his reports had mentioned. It all intrigued him.
The General started first.
“I regret that we have not met sooner, but with recent conflict with the Children of Mortis and the aftermath of that conflict, I have been… tied up, and unavailable to continue my research. Thank you for making the trip. Before summoning you here, I read a report you filed on the Nihil and specificially, the Nihilite. I would like you to elaborate, if you do not mind.”
The Regent put both forearms on the desk in front of him, interlacing his fingers.
Malfearak was captivated by the ethereal undertone in the Regent’s voice as the latter spoke. He wondered if perhaps the man was using some form of voice-changing technology, but he dismissed that notion quickly. He could sense it in the Force. To him, it felt like something of a taint, a festering wound. It seemed a more interesting explanation was in order but that was for another time.
In any case, the Regent’s voice was as unsettling as it was fascinating, and that likely worked to Bes'uliik’s advantage in many a situation.
Malfearak nodded as his host finished speaking, then cleared his throat. “Ah yes, the Nihilite. There is little available on the subject. Indeed, I’ve been accused of manufacturing their existence, though I suspect that if you summoned me, it was not to level such accusations my way. You believe me, at least to some extent.”
The Regent nodded and Malfearak leaned forward.
“A year past, I was researching the Nihil, the band of marauders who caused the Great Hyperspace Disaster in the days of the High Republic. I am particularly interested in the technology they used to travel through hyperspace, you see. The paths, they called it. Fascinating stuff. It led me to the discovery of an artifact known as the Scion of the Path. I am still not sure what the artifact is capable of, not fully, but one thing I do know is that it can alter the gravitational pull of a planet. I know it for a fact. Cost me a ship and a year of my life to find out.”
Bes'uliik nodded once more, leaning to rest against the upright back of his chair. His arms lifted off the table as he did so, moving them to the armrests.
“I am familiar with paths and the devices that allow their traversal; the path engines. I agree, very fascinating technology. Unique.”
What Zxyl was really interested though were Malfearak’s findings, observations, and other information on this Scion of the Path artifact device the Kessurian had mentioned. Altering the gravitational pull of a planet was quite a feat, and should such a device fall into the wrong hands quite dangerous. The Brotherhood would need to locate this artifact and either capture or destroy it. There was no telling the carnage that could be unleashed upon Brotherhood territories should the gravitational pull of their planets be increased ten fold, drawing in other celestial objects to a collision course. Disastrous, to say the least.
The Regent hrmed quietly. It was quite predicament, to say the least. A large force or group searching for such a device would surely draw unwanted attention. The Dathomirian-Mandalorian’s head turned slightly, his gaze shifting to a black Wroshyr-tree wooden box on his desk bearing the logo of the Regent of the Brotherhood’s office.
“Tell me more. Have you had any success in tracking the object?”
“Unfortunately, I was unable to retrieve the item from the Nihilite. Long story short, it was one of their leaders who approached me and put me on the trail of the Scion. I worked with this individual for some time to uncover the whereabouts of the Scion. That sleemo double-crossed me. His people got to the artifact first, crashed my ship as I dropped out of hyperspace. Damaged their own ships, too. They didn’t know what they had on their hands, that’s dead certain. Either way, we were stranded on that planet for just short of a year. Tried to recover the artifact on several occasions but they were a large force, entrenched and heavily armed. They eventually cobbled-up and repaired enough ships to get off the planet, left me there until some Odan Urr forward scouts caught my signal. Will of the Force and all that.”
He paused, but the Regent only stared at him, expectation clear despite the helmet.
Malfearak cleared his throat again, readjusted his sitting position. He crossed one leg over the other, then drapped his finger over his knee as he continued. “To answer your question, I tracked the object down, then lost it. I have since lost trace of the Nihilite. It is said the Scion doubled as a map or, heh, a path. Whether they have the technology to use this information, I do not know. My guess is they’re searching for a way right this instant.”
The General considered all the possibilities that lay before them as Asvraal spoke. This was a tough one, to be sure. Since Malfearak had tracked down the device and the Nihilite once before, perhaps he could do so again with some assistance only the Dathomirian Mandalorian could provide. He nodded to the man, reaching over to that black wooden box he had set his gaze upon before. The Regent reached over, sliding it in front of him, and opened the lid - the contents concealed from the Kessurian.
“Would you be able to track it down, if given enough time and resources?” Bes'uliik asked formly.
Malfearak scrubbed his chin as he considered the question. He had lost the trace of the Nihilite and they were in possession of the artifact. He only had a glimpse of the Scion to work with and no bearing. It wouldn’t be an easy task. He was a relic hunter, not a bounty hunter. Still, when the Regent asked you to do something…
“I believe I could.”
“Very well then Malfearak,” the Regent said, pulling something from the contents of the box and closing the lid. He slid it off to the side, before pushing with two fingers in Malfearak’s direction a golden credit chip. Emblazoned on it was the logo of the office of the Regent of the Brotherhood. Bes'uliik kept his two fingers on the chip for a moment.
“Then I will give this to you to help in your endeavors. This is no ordinary credit chip - it has access to a large discretionary fund specifically for those undertaking assignments from Arx Capital Exchange. It also doubles as a code cylinder, providing you access to sensitive areas within Mattock Station and other facilities of the Exchange. Its usage is tracked however - and you are only to use it when necessary in service of this task.”
The Dathomirian-Mandalorian removed his two fingers, lowering his arm back to his arm-rest.
“Retrieve the Scion, return it here, and we will discuss suitable payment for your services. You will be allowed to study it following its retrieval, but it must be brought to the Brotherhood to ensure it does not fall into maliciously-aligned hands.”
Malfearak frowned at the chip for some time, considering the implications of accepting such aid and going over the type of the research he could fund with the Exchange’s money. It was an enticing idea, but it was being offered with a specific goal in mind, a specific goal with no clear solution. No amount of credits would root out the Nihilite. What he needed were people and those people could be bought.
A chance to find the Scion, he thought. He had all but written it off when the Nihilite disappeared with it. He was no tracker. This was as good an opportunity as he was going to get.
He leaned forward, swiping the chip of the desk and slid it inside his coat pocket.
“The Nihilite will rue the day the Regent of the Brotherhood got involved in their business,” he announced with a pointed grin.
“And Malfearak Asvraal,” Bes'uliik said slyly.
“Oh, that day began when they betrayed me,” he announced with a vicious gleem in his argent eye.