Crozeus closed his eyes, completely relaxed. It was a rare occasion could he find time to take a bath, so when he could he ensured he could enjoy the soak to it's full capacity. In his mind he mulled over the various problems that he had to solve in the near future, and was pleased to find that he had done pretty much everything on his schedule. As he sank lower into the water, one thing nagged at his mind.
A few months before, he had recieved a startling message in the Force from his... friend, Darth Suspiria. Shortly afterwards, her presence had disappeared from the Force entirely. Crozeus had always said he would find out what happened to her, but other things would always come up. Now, he determined, would be the oppurtune time to go after her.
With a sigh he heaved himself out of the bath, stepping onto the plush carpets of his bathroom. He dried his muscular form, before slipping into a dark tunic and socks. He walked towards his bedchamber, nodding at Godfrey, his butler and guard, who greeted him with a "good morning Prophet," in his clipped Imperial upper-class accent.
Crozeus sat on his bed with a frown, as he pulled his boots to him and started to lace them up. He had no idea how he would go about this, and that was something he didn't like. He always wanted to have a plan, and when he didn't, that agitated him. All he knew was that she had gone to Dxun, to the tomb of Freedon Nadd, so naturally that was where Crozeus would head. His boots laced he stood and threw on his white Prophet's robe, pushing his shoulder-length brown hair over it. With the black tunic and boots he made for a startling contrast in colour. He smiled slightly as he wondered how different things would have been if he had joined the Inquisitorious like he planned. Or even if he had taken on the former High Prophet Aequitas as his master.
He crossed to his dresser and grabbed his equipment and weapons. He fitted his wrist holsters, sliding two sabers into the slots provided. He also attatched a grappling hook to one and a rebreather to the other, not knowing what he would face. He also attached a torch. He took his main lightsaber, the one he constructed himself and clipped it to his belt, which he has just fitted. He looked at the polished Mandalorian Iron armour, and the orbalisk carapace next to it with approval, but turned away. He would need more freedom of movement than protection. At least, that is what his instincts told him. He had only been to Dxun once before, when he was under the tutelage of Darth Celestial, and he could barely remember that. He was planetside for less than a day.
He was ready. He left his chamber and entered his office, to record a message into his holocron. Then, he left. Shortly afterwards, the Masar's Revenge took off from the palace at Cerea, and headed into space, hailing the Destroyers from the Defense Fleet, and shot into hyperspace towards Onderon, and it's jungle moon, Dxun. How coincidental that it was Darth Celestial who was Moff of Onderon.
High Prophet Crozeus
Crozeus narrowed his eyes from the mid-morning sun on Naboo. The Prophets city of Anomid, constructed by the former Supreme Prophet Divious, stretched out before him like a crab's claws. He walked out of the hangar and headed down a pavement, his boots clicking on the paving. He enjoyed the walk, the warm sun on his skin, the refreshing air, blood pumping around his body with his brisk walk. At that moment, he didn't want to be anywhere else. There was a lovely manor on one of the hills, and Crozeus was sure he could buy it, if he could raise the millions of credits required. Most of his vast funds were depleted, either on his ship or in investments, and it would take time to rebuild his monies.
After about seven minutes he entered the vast office building which was the centre of Church administration for huge sections of the galaxy. He nodded to the guards and stopped to key in his ID number into the pad which led to the executive corridor. Inside there, things were different from the blue hued world behind him. Things were polished black marble, the skirtingboards rimmed with gold. Officers in crisp uniforms moved gracefully through the halls, their reflections all around them on the walls, floor and ceiling. It was a perfect example of Church effeciency and wealth.
He went into his office there to retrieve exactly what he had come for. He sat behind his desk, waving the door shut behind him, and with another gesture sent the camera pointing to the wall. First, he slid back a panel of wood on the desk, barely noticable. He slotted the small key he wore at all times around his neck into the hole revealed and a small pad appeared from underneath the desk, rising until it was at the same height as the desk. Crozeus keyed in a lengthy code and pressed his finger to the panel on the device. After it beeped the wall behind him moved and a safe was displayed. He put his key into that as well and keyed in a combination for it, it finally clicked and opened. Crozeus reached inside with a grin, unable to hide his sheer glee at having such an object.
He stowed the small black box inside his robe and left the office, everything closing itself up, and finally the camera swivelling back. It would be as if nothing happened. He strolled down the executive corridor, back out onto the street, and back up to the hangar. Moments later, he was in hyperspace, en route to Dxun, the small black box safe and sound.
High Prophet Crozeus
Many crafts of all shapes and sizes darted around above the atmosphere of Onderon, all queuing to get into the main starport in the planet's capital, Iziz. The unique identifier on all Sith craft enabled them to pass through any traffic lanes such as this, so Crozeus was not questioned when he plowed his way through the vessels, heading for the huge green moon of Dxun.
Dxun was almost a sister planet to Onderon, they were so close. At certain times, their atmospheres even exchanged. Regualr shuttle trips occured between the two. Crozeus had even heard a rumour that Darth Bane had travelled between the two without need for a ship.
The Masar's Revenge moved towards the planet at a relaxed pace, as her pilot tried to locate any sign of Darth Suspiria using his ability of Hallowing. It was to no avail, as any signs were drowned out by the millions of different creatures, some Force sensitive, on the planet's surface. Crozeus knew she had gone to Freedon Nadd's tomb, so that was where he would head. As he prepared to land, he noticed a pecurlair strength in the light side of the Force - something that would surely need investigating. But that was not why he was here.
The Revenge was put down in a small clearing not far from the stench of the Dark Side which surely must be the tomb. Crozeus leaped out of the canopy, his Force signiature scaring away the smaller denizens of the planet. However, chances were it would attract larger predators, or packs, eager to test themselves against this new presence in their world.
Still, he would deal with such threats as he came to them. For now, all that was on Crozeus' mind was getting to the tomb. He ignited his saber and started hacking away at the undergrowth, using the ruby blade as a machete. Occasionally a Maalraas would stare at him, but Crozeus paid them no heed, and the sound of his saber chopping through the tough vines and logs of Dxun as if they were paper was more than enough to frighten them away. It was not long before he passed into a cave, filled with rusting equipment, and headed through it into a clearing, an in front of him was a giant ramp, adjacent to eight great statues, leading into the tomb of Freedon Nadd.
High Prophet Crozeus
The din of the jungle echoed between the pillars adjacent to the ramp Crozeus was advancing upon. He had been walking solidly up it for a good forty minutes now, and he was tired. His breath was ragged, sweat poured profusely from his brow, and he couldn't even find the energy to swat at the various little insects, and some larger ones, swarming around him, attracted by the smell of his sweat. Fire burned within him as he drew upon the Dark Side to keep him going.
Finally, breathlessly, he reached the summit. He collapsed down, breathing hard, and admired the view. Then he collected his thoughts. He really shouldn't be this tired. He was physically incredibly fit, and the strength of the place should have given him the ability to sprint for hours without feeling any strain. That meant that someone had to be draining on his power. As he realised this, a growing presence - a growing lightside presence - approached behind him. When he heard her voice, he stiffened, his hand instantly grasping his saber hilt. Slowly, he stood, and turned.
"I guess it's true what they say. There are always two Sith."
Facing Prophet Crozeus was a woman, clearly a Jedi, a silver blade ignited. He knew at once that there were no other options, so he simply nodded, threw down his robes and ignited his own ruby gold blade, bringing it up in a salute. Then they charged.
High Prophet Crozeus
Crozeus was on the defensive, bones jarring with every frantic parry he made. He was tired, and this woman wasn't. She had clearly been through extensive saber training, and he could barely hold his own against her. He ducked a vicious swipe she made and charged at her, rugby tackling her to the ground. As soon as he could, he rolled back up and extinguished his blade, rapidly igniting his two wrist sabers.
The Jedi were traditionally trained in duelling with the first three Forms as Padawans, then the next two, and if they opted for advanced training the sixth and seventh. However, it was on a rare occasion that even the Jedi battlemasters would know how to fight with and against the lesser known Forms, such as Jar'Kai, which Crozeus was now using.
That was why the female Jedi was now the one on the defensive, only her own remarkable skill enabling her to parry both of Crozeus' violet blades. She attempted to cut at Crozeus' hands, trying to take on of the sabers out of the equation, but he didn't fret. Eventually the two combatants reached a wall, and as she fell back Crozeus didn't pursue.
"You are weak," Crozeus taunted the breathless Jedi, who's draining ability had stopped as she drew on her energies to drown out the Dark Side raging in the place. "You can feel the Dark Side calling to you. Give in to it. Let it's power fill you."
As he spoke he put words to action and let the Dark Side seep into his veins, filling him with great power. He could not help a pleasurable sigh escape his lips. He twirled his sabers menacingly and beckoned. "Strike me down with your hate. One with your skills would be an asset to the Sith."
For the first time the Jedi spoke, a peculiar accent. "I will not give into the Dark Side," she spat vehemently. She raised her saber in defiance and ran forward, and Crozeus felt a surge in the Force as she used up the last of her power. Surrounded by the power of the tomb, however, he was unstoppable. He parried her powerful attack with ease and feinted with his second saber. As she moved to parry it he kneed her viciously in the gut, before slamming his elbow into her back, and ripping his saber across her thigh. She cried out and fell to the floor, her saber rolling to her side where Crozeus launched it far away with a kick.
He looked at her body for a moment, before extinguishing his sabers and turning to walk away. She tried to get up, and Crozeus turned, right arm extended and angling up, grabbing her in the Force and lifting her into the air. With a clench of his fist he crushed her bones and let her drop, lifeless, to the ground. Casually, he retrieved her saber from where he stood and clipped it to his belt, before opening the doors to the tomb with a wave of his hand and stepping into the beckoning darkness.
