The tangled webs we weave. . .(open)

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai roamed the streets of Coruscant on a cold evening. The wind blew harshly and his body shivered slightly. He took another puff off the cigarette and cast it to the side. He smirked and brushed the dark hair from his face. As the hair moved, a deep scar could be seen across his right cheek. Jagged, almost as though it had been ripped from his flesh. This was the memory his. . .close friend, Bandage had left him with.

Baralai looked at the street corners and the people travelling, ignorant to their very existence. Prostitutes, beggars and the worst of them all. . .Jedi. These fools were what made Baralai seek what he did, all knowledge. The sinners were those people who failed to absorb everything, see something from every angle. He hated these people for their narrow minded ways and paths of thought.

There was no good or evil in the world, these were only mere points of view. The only two things that remained constant in this world were power and truth. Baralai could prove these things were constant as well. He had had several debates with different sentient beings of many planets on the subject, even several Jedi.

The Jedi were the most stubborn, which proved his point even more. To prove power and truth were what existed and that good and evil were non-existant, all he had to do was ask this:

"Is it not true that to gain power one must seek it? And also, is it not true that opinions affect right and wrong? What was wrong 200 years ago doesn't matter now, all that matters now is what people think today. Right and wrong are breathing, living things, constant and unchanging are truth and power."

Baralai smirked at his own genius. He had made it his goal to know it all, not just the dark or light, but everything. He would become the most powerful figure in the Universe, even more powerful than the Sith Lord, Darth Sidious. He knew this to be true, and. . .should the sith take him in, he had a name for his new power. A name that would show his power and constant growth.

Baralai walked into the alley where he had killed two others a few nights before and slowly strolled to the back of it. He smirked and layed his back against the wall, looking around at the sky. It was clear, but soon enough, smoke billowed high into the sky until it dissipated into nothing. He smirked as he took another puff from his cigarette.

He rubbed the blade in his coat pocket and put two fingers around its handle. He looked up into the sky, wondering what was out there. There was always more, always more knowledge, always more power. And whether or not the Jedi or the Sith beleived it, they would tremble beneath the power of this newcomer. Baralai swore to himself to show everyone the ignorance of their ways.

Baralai threw the cigarette into the alley and continued to stare up at the sky. "They will all tremble," he said, "when they hear my name." He thought to himself, the name that represented constant tormoil and suffering, but meant growth and power. The truth of the universe. Baralai would become that universe, but no longer was he Baralai, in his mind, he was a new being. A being of power. . .Darth Ouroboros.

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel should have left Coruscant two days ago, right after he had challenged that Jedi. It wasn’t the best decision he’d admit, especially in the heart of the Republic, but he couldn’t allow the Jedi to harm other two. Zharoel couldn’t allow the Jedi to destroy the brilliance of the dark-haired human. Brilliance that the psion couldn’t comprehend…no, refused to comprehend.

Zharoel’s glowing eye’s brightened in amusement and pity. The Jedi are so sure that their way, their philosophy, embodied liberty. That the light defined what is good and right, that the light would eventually cast out the darkness and bring true peace to the galaxy. The fools tried to take philosophy and apply it to all life. Peace did not exist, it could not, and neither does the light. At the same time anarchy and darkness also didn’t exist. Jedi fight an illusion for an illusion, but believe they are wise.

Yet they couldn’t understand true genius. The dark-haired human has unlocked a great secret, an art lost millennia ago. An art that now lived on only in legend, myth, and a few obscure tomes. He had actually revived the dead, brought inanimate flesh back to the living world. All the psion had seen was abomination. What did it matter if a few died to create the automaton, all truth required experimentation? One, two, a hundred lives wouldn’t be missed; there are trillions of others in existence. Only if xenocide were threatened would Zharoel oppose truth.

Normally, the Umojan would have already left the planet, but something drew him to the human. In the tomes, reanimation was often tied to alchemy, an art perfected by the Sith thousands of years ago. If this human knew alchemy, then perhaps he could lead Zharoel to the Sith.

And here he was again, the same alley that Zharoel had seen him the first time, with Zharoel hanging perched upon a ferrocrete outcropping maybe five meters up. A pair of yellow orbs regarded the human, hearing preceptors trained on the figure.

Perhaps it was time to reveal himself again. Zharoel crouch-stepped off the edge and dropped, cool air rushing past. Long, double-jointed legs easily absorbed the shock of impact.

The Umojan focused on the human and projected his telepathic ‘language’ of images and feelings.

“Isn’t that a bit pretentious? Very few of you short-lifes become worthy of recognition.”

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai heard a familiar voice as the shadow dropped from above and landed, unscathed. He smiled and stood up off the wall. "Well," he said as he took a puff from his cigarette, "few lives are as amazing as mine. I will revive something the world has never seen. . .and if my work proves succesful, I will lead the galaxy to times of truth."

He smirked and looked at the creature, "Isn't it a bit pretentious for you to beleive that all humans are not worth recognition?" Baralai thought the statement over for a moment, "On second thought, you're right. But I will change all of that." He began to circle the being, pulling out his knife and twirling it by the loop on the end of the handle.

"So if I may ask, what is your name and what are you doing here?" Baralai stopped and continued to twirl his knife, giving the creature a better look than before. "And better yet, why is it I have seen you twice in two evenings?"

[Zharoel Ankhta]

If Zharoel were physically capable of laughing, he would have; instead, waves of amusement emanated from his mind. The Umojan’s eye’s strobed brighter as he circled the opposite way the human traveled, fore-knees nearly touching the ground.

“I did not say all, nor did I specify humans. Most races in the galaxy are unfortunate enough to be restricted to a single century of life, far too short to prove their worth.”

Zharoel shifted his gaze to the twirling knife, if push came to shove, he would be ready for the strike. He spread his arms wide, flexing clawed, four-fingered hands and keeping his stance low.

“My name is none of your concern at the moment, as your’s isn’t my concern.” Zharoel stopped and pulled the hood of his robes back. The face revealed had relatively few features. He had no mouth, nor any nose, only a raised strip pebbly, purple-gray skin that resembled a cobblestone path. Deeply sunken cheeks gave Zharoel’s face a sharp, almost axe-like look. A bony ridge across his brow ran over angular eyes that had no pupils, just a solid yellow. The forehead arced up into a short crest that connected to the eyebrow ridge.

“You interest me, human. You are one of the very few truly enlightened beings I’ve met. Not bound by any hindering conceptions of good and evil, right and wrong. What truly piques my curiosity is your companion, or rather, what your companion insinuates. Seeing dead flesh existing with a mental consciousness, albeit a limited one, is shocking.”

Zharoel paused, folding his hands in front of his chest.

“I believe we can assist each other….You see, reanimation is closely linked to an ancient art known as alchemy, an art perfect by the Sith thousands of years ago. If you truly are an alchemist, then you know of the Sith, and I have been searching for them for a very long time.

Zharoel reached both hands into the folds of his robes. With his left, he withdrew the same weapon he carried the night before, a long, narrow handle with a trigger loop at one end the branched out into three prongs that cradled an elongated bowl-shaped device, and tossed it away from him. In the right hand, Zharoel held a datapad.

“I have no intention of fighting you. Here is a sample of what I can offer you.” Zharoel tossed the datapad to the human. In broad, stylized writing stood the title Aenigma Philosophicum an old text that he had found in a hidden library on an outer-rim world. The opening lines were written in basic, but soon shifted into a mess of ancient glyphs. The words in basic read:

“There is no light, but what lives in the Sunne;
There is no Sunne, but which is twice begott;
Nature and Arte the Parents first begonne:
By Nature ‘twas, but Nature perfects not.
Arte then what Nature left in hand doth take,
And out of One a Twofold worke doth make.

A Twofold worke doth make, but such a worke
As doth admitt Division none at all
(See here wherein the Secret most doth lurke)
Unlesse it be a Mathematicall.
It must be Two, yet make it One and One,
And you do take the way to make it None.

Lo here the Primar Secret of this Arte,
Contemne it not but understand it right,
Who faileth to attaine this formost part,
Shall never know Artes force nor Natures might.
Nor yet have power of One and One so mixt,
To make by One fixt, One unfixid fixt.”

“I’ve have translated the main document and archived aboard my ship and I have several other texts that have been partially translated.”




OOC note: This is actual alchemical verse written by W. Bedman.

[Mei-Li Yeh]

Her ears had been properly trained, the world so full of ignorance and stupidity that the simple teachings had allowed her to somehow empathize with those who were not so enlightened. Mei-Li was one of those who sought after knowledge and sought after those like her, those who believed in the ancient art of science and theory, something that had lost its luster some time ago in the busy cities and vast galaxy.

A night like this caused her mind to travel and her body to wander, a cold night that somehow opened her mind and filled her deeply. But aside from looking at those who passed by her with sad eyes, the voice of something unfamiliar took a hold of her especially when the text sent a shiver of surprise down her spine.

Alchemy... she whispered gently as she stopped walking amongst the crwod to turn her head and allow her eyes to grow dark. Such a thing being spoken in an alley piqued her interest, especially when one found alchemists of good nature hard to find. She slowly found her way down the dark and damp alley where she continued to listen to the text, somehow not recognizing it. She knew that this was a meeting of chance due to the person's request about more documents. Her hert began to race and suddenly she knew she wasn't in good company. Her fingers touched the handle of her dagger, continuing to hide in the shadows, eavesdropping.

Alchemical texts, after all, weren't topic of any normal conversation, especially in a dark alley and alchemy wasn't used very often for anything good, not anymore. If only she weren't so passionate about knowledge and the boundries between good and evil.

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai read the text over, having read parts of it before. So, another creature that sought to know the inner workings of life. . .of alchemical science.

"So you know of the great power of alchemy. The power of those who invaded God's territory." He smirked and pushed his knife back into his coat. "As for the Sith, I do know of them. Being one myself." He said as he chuckled slightly.

Baralai walked up to the creature and looked up and down a few more times, taking in the full view of his form. "I am suprised to see one such as yourself here. It is rather, exciting you could say. It is rare I see a being such as yourself." Baralai looked the creature up once more, "Baralai Lotus, alchemist and Sith Apprentice."

Baralai stepped back and lit up another cigarette, taking a small puff and blowing the smoke high into the sky. "So then, you say you have more texts inside your ship? Is it possible that I may see these?" Baralai turned his head, his long hair blocking his face, only showing the scar on his right cheek.

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel’s eyes returned the smile by brightening slightly. Admiration, exultation, and triumph roiled uncontrolled from his mind, a great change in the usually mental control the Umojan usually exhibited. Nearly a century of searching had paid off, and on Coruscant of all places.

“Zharoel Ankhta of the Khali tribe, exile of the Templar.” Zharoel nodded his head in approval. “It is a risk for a Sith to wander Coruscant in these years. I admire your open defiance of the Jedi in their own safe haven. It is good to see those that defy their narrow-minded philosophy and arrogance.”

Zharoel stepped around Baralai and walked towards the far wall, eyes flickering towards the mouth of the alley. He turned as he neared the sonic blaster he had discarded earlier.

“I would be willing to give you full access to my ship’s records in return for your assistance…..but for now I think we must cut this conversation short.” Zharoel quickly whirled about, robes whipping around his from the movement. Using the tip of his foot he kicked the gun up to his hands and aimed the weapon down the alley. “I believe we have an unwelcome visitor.”

[Mei-Li Yeh]

Mei-Li stopped moving, her breast and stomach pushed against the cold brick wall, as if she were a spider slowly creeping up on its prey. The cold blast of wind pushed her long black hair forward, falling over her shoulder and into her eyes, the surprise of being caught off guard unsettling to her.

The man's gun was pointed right at her, his quick movement surprising her and causing her heart to nearly stop. She had usually been praised for her silence but this time she was finally proved wrong. She grabbed her dagger and pulled it out of its hard black sheath and held it up, walking out of the darkness.

"Nobody casually speaks alchemical texts in dark alleyways and expect nobody to find it a bit...odd. Might I be so obliged to know why you are speaking of such dead teachings?" She had a curiosity that people became annoyed with and no doubt the tall creature in front of her, and the man behind him, were finding her sudden eavesdropping infuriating.

"Being an alchemist myself I am always curious to know of others." She knew that these two weren't using it for the good of mankind, unlike those she aquainted herself with but they didn't need to know that at this moment in time.

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai looked the girl up and down, taking in every bit of her form. To say the least, she was beautiful. Tall, dark and looks that could kill any man. But, Baralai had no interest in the woman, or what she offered.

"It is no concern of yours what we are doing here." He smiled and pulled his own dagger from it's sheath. Flashing the blade at her and twirling it around his fingers he smiled. "Now then child, but your little toy away, or else I can get out something much larger." He motioned for the hilt of his whip, with the chain rattling as he did so.

He looked over at Zharoel, "You know my friend, it is so sad that one, un-experienced alchemist would threaten us." He laughed slightly and walked closer to the girl, "So if you want to know of more alchemists, then why did you draw a weapon? Coming nicely would've been appreciated, not acting as though you were going to attack us." He looked her up and down, staring at her eyes. . .

"I don't trust her." He said as he began to walk back toward Zharoel.

[Mei-Li Yeh]

Mei-Li's mouth curled at the edges, sure she looked young and fresh and possibly a virgin to alchemy but that was what fooled everyone, her talent went far beyond mere visual expectations.

The man was turning and heading back to his "friend" and it gave her a slight glint of satisfaction that he would be so bold as to accuse her of not being trustworthy. She raised her left eyebrow and threw out her right hand, her dagger flying quickly in the air. The soft hiss of the sharp blade echoed in the wind and whipped by the man's shoulder, taking a piece of clothing as it passed, she knew he felt it and she wanted him to. The sharp dagger quickly jammed into the brick wall a few feet away from him, the mans shirt dangling in the breeze.

"Had your friend not been so alarmed, perhaps I would have been able to say hello in a slightly more gratuitous manner." Mei-Li allowed her arm to fall to her side, she smiled and bowed her head momentarily.

"Ni hoa," She said in her native tongue as she walked by them and grabbed her dagger, the sleeve piece falling to the ground. "I am Yeh Mei-Li, but you may call me Mei-Li, and in-experienced I am not." She continued to grin as she rolled the dagger's handle on her fingers till she could grab the edge normally and stick it into her sheath. The man had done it moments before and she felt it was best to let him see, he was not alone in his finger rolling techniques.

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel watched the women twirl the knife through her fingers the same way that Baralai had done before. He saw the way the male human had looked her over, perhaps she was beautiful by human standards, perhaps not, Zharoel had seen many different cultures with many definitions of beauty; and it seemed that the Sith had no interest in her at all.

Zharoel took several steps towards Mei-li, slowly straightening up to his full three meter height, towering over both humans “Alarmed? No. But paranoid perhaps. I have had armed assailants try to sneak up on me before.” The Umojan leaned over, his featureless face and glowing eyes hovering centimeters away. He brought up a single clawed finger beneath her chin and spoke mentally so only hear. “And they have always bitten off more that they can chew.”

He changed telepathy so that both could hear. “And now I have the pleasure of meeting two people that know of alchemy in one night. The Sith is understandable, but you, my dear, are an enigma.”

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai watched as the knife wizzed by his shoulder and ripped his coat. He turned to her as she walked by and grabbed her knife from the wall, spinning it just as he had done before.

"You're good little girl," he said smirking. "But tell me, how is that you know of the alchemical arts? I agree with my friend here, you are quite the enigma." He looked her up and down once more, such beautiful form. She was. . .to say the least. . .a perfect specimen. Beautiful by all human comparisons, but with a few adjustments to her frame, shape and mind. . .she could be even better.

Baralai laughed to himself, always improving God's work. It was always possible to make perfect better. Baralai looked at Zharoel and kept his hand on his whip in his coat. "Although I don't fully trust the girl, she has skill. Baralai Lotus, Sith Alchemist. Tell us how you know of this ancient art Mei-Li." He smirked and lit up another cigarette, having discarded the first into a puddle.

[Mei-Li Yeh]

Mei-Li grinned and looked away from the tall specimen touching her chin, she turned and looked at the man who was kind enough to introduce himself, and quickly ask questions. She didn't need for them to know of her true ways just yet, after all she was always on the lookout for those who used alchemy for selfish needs rather than the ways she was taught.

"Hmm..." She said lowly as she moved her dark eyes from his attractive face all the way down to his shoes. "Baralai." She repeated to herself taking a mental picture. She breathed in and turned, walking around the two as if she were summing them up.

"I was taught by a philosopher of alchemy, my father. Although it was Chinese alchemy and rather a tradition in my household I became more interested and soon began practicing as a profession. Now may I ask you a question..." Mei-Li stopped walking and looked into Baralai's eyes, continuing to make a mental picture of everything she had seen.

"Why would a Sith Alchemist be doing in the middle of a dark alley way?"

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai watched as the girl looked him up and down, how silly. He heard what she had to say and he kept his hand tight around the handle of his whip, preparing himself for any move she may make.

"I am here speaking with a friend on the subject as you can see. Simply learning more than I already know. But, now that you've come into the picture, I may be able to learn more." He smirked at the woman.

"Chinese Alchemy you say, of this I know very little." He began to circle her slowly, keeping an eye on her. "What do you know of this art? So then, are you skilled in the art, or do you only know mere parlor tricks?"

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel kept his eyes on the Mei-Li the entire time she circled them, searching for anything amiss in her posture, her eye contact, and to the best of his limited ability, her mind.

Chinese? Zharoel tried to remember what he could of that culture; the only time he had visited a Chinese settlement was forty-three years ago. He had not had enough time to properly document what he observed, the Galactic Empire had still been a power at the time, and for whatever reason, completely razed the world. It greatly disturbed Zharoel that he couldn’t draw any information from his documents and compare it to her.

Knowledge would be useful, but Zharoel doubted he’d get what he wanted. And besides, Zharoel focused on Mei-Li’s eyes, he couldn’t trust her; he couldn’t trust Baralai completely, but there was no way he’d risk poor relations with the Sith. The woman was a hunter, it was in her eyes, the way she focused on Baralai, they way she took in every detail, and the way she avoid giving away any information that would let Zharoel form any conclusions; the exact same mannerisms that Zharoel himself used when he wanted to obtain information.

And Zharoel was already anxious to retreat from this world, besides, he knew the basics of alchemy, but never practiced it himself, his interests rested elsewhere.

Zharoel let one of his opposable digits drift over the charge trigger on the sonic blaster. He focused his mind on Baralai alone.

“She is too dangerous. She can identify who we are and what we are, and where our allegiances lie. Knowledge is always important, but patience is the key. We cannot reveal anymore”

[Mei-Li Yeh]

Mei-Li glanced away from Baralai and tilted her head slightly as she sensed the creature, who had a talent of telepathy, ready to charge his blaster and attack at any given moment. "Your friend is very paranoid." She slowly glanced over her shoulder and found the massive creature and turned around.

"You must relax, if only a little, and you..." Mei-Li turned and looked back at Baralai "I don't like it rough, but if you prefer to keep a death grip on your whip, so be it." She didn't appreciate them both glaring at her in such a way that made her wonder if she had just murdered their best friend, their distrust and discomfort easily sensed.

She was trying to feel them out and undertand exactly what they intended to do with their knowledge of alchem

"Chinese alchemical sources is found in the Daozang, the largest collection of Taoist texts. One fifth of its about 1,500 texts are closely related to the various alchemical traditions that developed until the fifteenth century. For a Sith Alchemist I'd figure you'd know almost every form of alchemy possible, perhaps I misjudged you."

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai smirked at the girl as she spoke of the ancient Chinese traditions. "I know of what you speak, I have read these texts. So then, you think you misjudged me," he walked closely to her, "you don't quite know who I am girl." He smirked and mocked a kissing face at her. She was quite beautiful. . .and a genius it seemed.

"You're a fiesty one." He turned his back and slightly loosened the grip on his whip handle. He turned to Zharoel and nodded for him to keep a hand on his blaster. "So, what is a fox like you doing in a city like this?" Baralai asked her as he smiled slightly.

[Mei-Li Yeh]

Mei-Li slit her eyes as a sudden burst of wind blew up behind her, her hair finding its way into her eyes. She lifted a finger and pushed it away as she saw Baralai turn and continue to speak, his closeness a moment before giving her a strange feeling of excitement. His question made her spine tingle, the casual tone he used made her wonder if perhaps he enjoyed to tease people. She grinned softly and looekd down at the ground for a moment briefly glancing at her filthy black boots.

"Searching alleyways near and far to find people speaking of alchemy." She lifted her eyes to find Baralai turning around to look at her, obviously catching her sarcasm. Mei-Li raised her right eyebrow and smiled, looking around the alley as if she were asking herself the same question.

"When I am not doing that I am usually looking for the very few alchemists who can enlighten my mind with unfamiliar texts or teachings, which it seems, to my fortune, I have found two others who may possibly share with me their ideals on alchemy."

[Zharoel Ankhta]

This was taking too much time, even for Zharoel’s patience. Cautious paranoia was beginning to take over. His claws continuously click on the metal bracing of the blaster, a nervous habit developed back when he lived on Umoja.

Zharoel glared at the woman alchemist. She had nothing to offer him and was a witness, he’d rather kill her and be gone, but it seemed Baralai was drawn to the knowledge she offered.

Tucking the weapon into the folds of his robes, Zharoel darted forward and leapt, pushing of the near corner of the alley. Spinning from toward the rear wall, the second foot pushed of the alley, propelling to tall alien even higher in the air. Pebbly hands reached out, grabbing one of several conduits running between buildings. Using the inertia of the flight, Zharoel spun his body around the conduit and let himself complete a slow backflip to the same ledge he had perched on before.

“I offered my services to the one that could assist me.” Yellow eye’s glared down, specifically, at Mei-Li “First and foremost, I am a warrior, second, I am a codifier of knowledge. I do not practice alchemy and I already have several documents in my possession, so there is nothing you have to offer me”

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai looked up at Zharoel and back at Mei-Li. He smiled at her and came up and kissed her slightly on the lips. Barely grazing her cheek with his hand and looking back up at Zharoel. "I would love to stay and chat sweetheart, but I have a previous engagement. If you need to know of me, just look for my work." Baralai smirked and looked up at Zharoel. Using the force he jumped up onto a pipe next to the conduit.

"So then, onwards to your ship?" Baralai smirked and wiped the hair from his face, lighting up another ciggarette. Looking back down at Mei-Li he flashed a hand and leaned over to whisper to Zharoel. "Leave her alive, she has knowledge I want." He looked back down at her, "Look for me, I'll be looking for you," he said as he began to follow Zharoel.

[Mei-Li Yeh]

Mei-Li grinned, thinking to herself as she watched the two wander away. "I'll be looking for you, Baralai." She said to herself as she turned and walked on down the alley onto the crowded streets, knowing she shouldn't linger any longer.

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel watched Mei-Li leave, amusement in his eyes. These humans were amusing, showing such shallow affection was beyond Umojan comprehension. Turning his head towards Baralai, Zharoel wondered what was actually going through the human’s mind. If he hadn’t been exiled and denied training, reading thoughts would have come easily.

Onwards? No, we go down, deep into the under-city. With that Zharoel sprang forward, eager to see if the Sith could keep up, the jump Baralai had made impressed Zharoel greatly. The Umojan navigated his way through the mesh of conduits, dropping down access hatches, led the way across bridges, but always down. Mid-class residential sectors gave way to the impoverished slums, and then to abandoned wreckages of buildings, crumbling from decades, even centuries of neglect. The only living beings down here were scavenging creatures, escaped convicts, and numerous under-city gangs.

The journey stopped a relatively clear warehouse district, long abandoned by any civilized being. Relatively clear in that the storage houses still stood. Zharoel made his way through the narrow streets, heading towards the center of the warehouse clusters.

The Umojan, kept a wary eye on the surroundings. This area had strong gang activity. And, as luck would have it.

“You there” A quartet of raggedy humanoids blocked the path ahead. “You’ve got some nerve showing yourself here. No one trespasses on our turf.” A ridiculously short rodian, the apparent leader stepped forward. “You wanna pass through here, you gotta pay the toll.”

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai followed Zharoel with ease, swinging through the mesh of wires and building as if he grew up there. He slid down deeper into the depths of the city, looking at the death and decay that had conquered it, just as everything else was, this place too had suffered from lack of power.

Baralai landed safely on the ground and heard the words of the rodian before him. Without saying a word he smirked and the chain whip effortlessly flew from his coat. He cracked the chain onto the ground and turned to see the one rodian who demanded the fee.

"We will pay no toll. You on the other hand. . ." Baralai threw his whip out as it wrapped it's way around the Rodians body. The other few jumped back as the whip grasped the man tightly. "You will pay with your life!"

The switch was flipped and the whip hummed to life, the deep red blade coursing it's way around the chain. The rodian was sliced into several pieces, and the whip fell to the ground, scorching it slightly.

Baralai pulled the whip back and looked at the others, "Now then, does anyone else wish to keep us from passing?"

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel laughed silently at the poor fools staring wide-eyed at what was left of their comrade. Slowly, shock turned to anger. The remaining three drew various weapons, glaring at Baralai. “Yous gonna wish ya hadn’t done dat. No one messes wit da Dragons.”

Zhaorel’s amusement increased, the emotion flowed freely through the minds of those around. He had dealt with these glittbitters before, the Dragons was one of the more powerful gangs in lower society. Amusement turned to rage. “I have had enough dealing you insects. Zharoel closed his eyes focusing every last bit of rage and hatred in his mind. The Umojan’s eyes flashed open, glowing a deep crimson, and let go of every mental inhibition. Every pent-up emotion lashed out like a psychic-whip, flaying the minds of the thugs. Each one dropped to the ground clutching their ears, as if they could dampen the mental shriek reverberating through their heads.

Zharoel glared at the incapacitated idiots, bringing his sonic weapon to bear. “Pathetic” A scaly finger tightened on the firing mechanism. A single low drone emitted from the weapon as the muzzle spat a plasma encased sphere of compressed sound waves. The blast impacted the center thugs with the force of a heavy concussion grenade, blasting the body backwards several meters. The other two found themselves thrown to either side of the road from the blasts backlash.

“That will have attracted some attention, let us hasten on.”

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai watched as he dispatched of the other three effortlessly. Such grace was in his steps as he moved. . .how fascinating. After Zharoel spoke to him he motioned for Zharoel to run forward. Baralai loved attention as much as the next person, but he had no wish to die today.

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel led the way around several more warehouses, scanning every dark corner for any remaining gang members. The trek ended at one of the more shoddy buildings; the entire place looked like it was on the verge of collapsing. Not bothering to take his normal route in through the roof, Zharoel easily kicked in a half-rotten door. The dank stench of mildew instantly assailed the senses.

A large ragged hole as if from an ancient fire in the ceiling let what little light there was outside penetrate into the vast expanse. Debris in all shapes and sizes littered the floor in a giant labyrinth.

Zharoel maneuvered through the mess, towards a point beneath the burned out section of ceiling. Just as the two reached an open area free of any obstruction, a loud crash sounded from behind.

“Boss, I tink dey went in here.”

"You ain't paid to think. Now get out of my way...Hey, you in there, show yourselves, the Dragons got a present for ya.”

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai listened as the harsh voice rung out through the room and looked over at Zharoel. "Would you like to do this, or me?" Baralai took a little intiative and extended his power through the force. Reaching in his coat, he pulled out his butterfly knife and walked slowly to the opening of the door. Looking to the one who called out for them he extended his power through the force and pushed the man over.

As the man fell, Baralai lept from the darkness and stabbed his knife into the mans throat. He stood, while blood poured beneath him, some lightly spraying his face. He looked at the others, there must have been twelve of them. In one fluid motion, Baralai stowed his knife away and pulled out his whip. In one crack the blade hummed to life, and Baralai prepared himself for anything they were planning throw at him.

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel watched Baralai jump the thugs with amusement. The man had skill with a blade and a definite psychotic streak. Zharoel rolled his eyes as the Sith pulled out his light-whip, Baralai also had the typical patience of a short-life.

With a mental sigh, Zharoel leveled his weapon toward the ceiling just above the door and pulled the trigger twice. Twin spheres of compressed sound waves slammed into the already weakened superstructure. Gang members shouted in surprise and dove out of the way of falling debris.

Grabbing a fallen durasteel pipe, the Umojan slid towards the door and back into the maze of boxes.

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai quickly stowed his whip away and followed after Zharoel. As he approached him from behind he gave him an odd look, "How much further do we go?"

Baralai was quickly growing impatient, and heading further down was only causing more problems. Granted killing those weaklings was a bit of fun, Baralai was ready to receive knowledge. He was ready to see these alchemical texts that Zharoel had. . .if indeed he had them.

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel gave a hard look at Baralai over his shoulder. Always the impatience with humans, then again they only lived about a century. For a brief instant the Umojan wondered what it would be like to have such a short life, to have so little time to reach one’s full potential. From behind came the sounds of the thugs picking themselves out of the rubble.

“Approximately fifteen meters, my friend.”

The two pushed past a final row of boxes and in front of the, there was nothing. Just an open patch of warehouse floor. Zharoel laughed in his own unique way at Baralai’s angry expression. The Umojan directed his thought-speech towards the open space.

“Disable active camouflage.”

Before their eyes, a sleek ship shimmered into view. The craft was a little over twenty meters long and made of a strange, flowing metal, seamless and organic in design, almost like Mon Cal vessels. A pair of swept back wings that looked as if they were fins on some undersea creature smoothly stretched out from the central fuselage.

As Zharoel neared the ship, a door slid open along a portion of the hull.

“Welcome aboard the Corsair.”

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai watched as this ship appeared from nowhere. So then, Zharoel was smart enough to keep his ship and himself, hidden from the general public. As they stepped up to the ship, it's soft-body almost glimmering in the faint light of the warehouse. . .Baralai could not help but be intrigued. Such a beautiful ship. . .

He smirked softly and followed Zharoel up inside the ship and looked over at him, his eyes gleaming with excitement, "These texts you mentioned. . .may I see them?" He gave another soft smirk and stared at the Umojan. He had little trust in him, but still. . .the creature trusted Baralai enough to bring him here, surely he was not going to kill him, though if he did try Baralai had the nerve and the power to fight back.

[Zharoel Ankhta]

“Yes, of course” Zharoel sighed mentally in exasperation. The Umojan stretched to his full height in the tall corridors as he made his way deeper into the ship. Throughout all the hallways, a gentle blue glow emanated from strands of crystal lining the floors and ceiling. Zharoel noticed Baralai gaze curiously at the crystal formations.

“Khydarrin crystals, they act as psychic receptors and allow me to communicate with the ship.”

Zharoel stepped through a door that appeared along the wall, leading them into a large octagonal room. Upon each wall were dozens of displays, artifacts hung suspend in force field cages. Three of the eight walls were dedicated purely to weapons. The Umojan paused to place the sonic blaster in an empty case.

“Welcome to my collection, be careful not to touch any off the displays. The ship’s automated defense will activate.”

Zharoel moved to the next wall. Dominating this one was a massive suit of armor, the entire thing looked as if it had been grown rather than built. The same bluish crystals in the hall studded several areas of the three meter tall suit. Around it rested dozens of exotic blades and guns, each made of the same strange metal as both the ship and the armor.

He gestured at a glowing pedestal in the center of the room. “That is the library.” At his words, the ‘library’ brightened, projecting a holographic control pad filled with odd shaped runes. With a thought-command from Zharoel, the runes warped into Basic letters. “The hologram is quite solid, you may search it freely

Or not so freely, Zharoel wouldn’t give all his tomes away. The library was programmed only to return a few search results.

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai smirked at Zharoel and walked up to the terminal and saw a simple display before him. The ship seemed to be activated by Zharoel and his mental waves. He spoke out loud, "Access all files detailing an ancient art named Alchemy."

The computer went to work, searching out several files on Alchemy, ancient writings, history of alchemy, the many branches, and it's access into the elements. There were snippets about Sith Alchemy, but he needed more than that. He turned to Zharoel, "Is it possible for me to get this information onto a holopad? It would be much appreciated." Baralai just smirked as he looked over at Zharoel.

The poor thing had no idea what Baralai was truly up too. Baralai needed this information to become something more, the God in his dreams. Alchemy was not just to strengthen the Order, it was also going to be used to strengthen himself. No one had any real idea, but soon. . .they would all know. . .Darth Ouroboros would rise.

[Zharoel Ankhta]

Zharoel’s large eyes narrowed to tiny slits of glowing yellow. What did this human think he was playing at, did he honestly believe that Zharoel would just hand over information without anything in return.

“Conventional holopads are incompatible with my race’s technology…. The tall alien plucked a Khaydarrin tiny crystal-amulet from his robes. “…and I am in short supply of memory crystals. I have stayed true to my part of the bargain. Hold up your part and I will give you the records you crave.”