"If this is the land of God," Gash said, "He must be lost."

The whip struck the Jedi's back again, and he gritted his teeth bitterly as a welt opened underneath the stinging slash. His persecutor, a burly, middle-aged man, smirked. "Try again. Where are you?" The whip hit him again.

"Enyon." Gash said begrudgingly. "The planet of Enyon."

"That's much, much better." The man said, untying the ropes which bound Jiren to the wall. "You see? Admitting who you are is not so very difficult, is it?"

"I didn't admit anything," Gash corrected, smirking and rubbing the sore spot his bonds had left. "Other than that I know of where I am. Perhaps I read it on my scanners before the crash."

The interrogator shook his head. "Enyon is not listed on any of your charts. And you very much admitted just who you are."

"Who, then?" Gash asked.

"A Jedi." The burly man said. "You are free to go, now."

Gash stopped. "As you wish. You know who I am. Why all that, merely to force me to admit something about myself you clearly already knew, and then set me free?"

The man handed him a shirt, grunting. "Our culture very much values honesty. Best we both be on the same page about your identity, to ensure no deception takes place."

Gash nodded slowly, looking curiously at the man. "You're strong. A soldier."

"Yes." The man replied. "I serve the Crown of the Eye." He gestured at the dank, stone room. "Above us is the barracks of my army."

Quicker than the man's eye could move, Gash's left knee lept into his stomach, pounding into the burly soldier's abdomen twice, before Gash swung his left arm into the man's head, sending him hurtling painfully into the wall.

"You are not so strong," Gash said, before gesturing at the door to unlock it. "And stupid, clearly, to think you could hold a Jedi. If this is what I am to expect of 'your people', you clearly have little going for you."

He left the room.

He is returning.

The Dark Lord's shuttle landed upon the docking ramp. The landing ramp slowly locked into place and he strode from the confines of the vessel though the venting gasses and steam. Moving silently, he approached the honor guard who seemed to be leading the pack.

"I am looking for a man. A Jedi. Gash Jiren, if he is here, you will bring him to me. If you do not, I will level your society to ash and dust."

The Dark Lord had been well informed on the customs of these people. He knew that honesty was their foremost policy. He also did not feel like wasting valuable time, so it worked in both their favors.

"I will wait no more than one hour. If he is not brought to me, these structures and any other on the planet will be razed from it and the ecology will be left to start anew.. without your people. Do I make myself clear?"

Enyon, Timeline: -6 Months

Gash walked slowly through the streets, hooded and cloaked, his white hair denoting him as an old man he was not. He stretched out his Force senses, sifting through the minds of those around him for any clues as to the whereabouts of those he'd landed with: Firel Nekkelon, and Kasien Treseda.

He was fully conscious of the fact that misrepresenting himself as he was would earn him death among the odd people of Enyon. Their worship of sight had been the first thing he'd gleaned from his former captors. They had an almost-fanatical devotion to the ability to see, basing their religion upon it, their kingdoms upon it, their armies upon it.

Gash knew, too, that this also made them a superficial people. Most of those around him presented a facade of themselves to the world; they probably couldn't tell him anything about his missing friends if they knew, relatively thoughtless as they were. Then, Gash caught something on the fringe of his senses; an active mind, a highly intelligent person making their way through the crowd.

Actually, on any other planet, the man would probably pass for only normal intelligence. But, in the land of the blind, the one eyed man was king.

Ironic.

Gash made his way over to him.

Coruscant, Timeline: +6 Months

Thanatos, silent and invisible as a wraith, snaked his way into the man's quarters wordlessly. His thoughts were laid open like a book, and the intruder speed-read through them, his madness absorbing the information completely. Another liar, another infidel; just as he'd known.

Without warning, Thanatos' hands wrapped around the man's neck. He was an upstanding member of society, a good friend of many aristocrats and senators. He had a wife, two children, and a Corellian dog.

He was also a murderer, a rapist, and the owner of a spice cartel which operated in the most brutal manner possible.

Thanatos squeezed on the man's windpipe, cold fear spreading through the man. "Wha-- you are you? What -- gah -- are you with --"

"I know what you are.
I know who you are.
You facade does not deceive.
Now, your family will grieve.
Like the others you wronged."

"No!" He said, grabbing onto Thanatos' hand, trying fruitlessly to dislodge it from it's death grip on his neck. "Please -- my family, someone must support them! I was only doing what I thought --"

"Still you deny yourself,
Even in the face of death?
You will receive your punishment,
When you cease to draw breath."

The hand dug deeper, sliding through flesh, spilling blood as he reached in. The man let out one last scream before his windpipe was torn from his neck in a spray of blood, blood which dripped down Thanatos' hand and the man's corpse, onto his bed. At the door, there was a creak, and the sliver of slight exuded from it grew to a beam.

"Dear?" Came a feminine voice. Thanatos was hidden from her by his cloak and the darkness as he slinked his way towards the window. He leapt through it, onto the balcony outside, still landing silently.

A click came from the room, accompanied by a burst of light -- then a strangled sob and the sound of footsteps rushing towards the corpse. Then a scream.

As Thanatos looked back, he saw the man's wife on the floor, sobbing, and his little girl, issuing the plaintiff scream he'd heard even still. The bloodied corpse of the man lay still on his bed, horrifically mangled.

No remorse. There could be none.

The Dark Lord waited, impatiently, for the men to return with his brother.. with Gash Jiren. He would not wait much longer. The anger in his eyes began to swiftly rise as he was told it would be a short time before Gash could be brought before him.

"Very well, every ten standard minutes I wait, I will destroy one city on this Force-forsaken planet."

He hoped this would inspire speed into the insolent whelps who stood before him. He did not have time to waste, nor were these people worth a minute longer of said time. This must end, and quickly.

Rogue Jedi Master, Nathaniel Somir, stood upon the observation deck of his penthouse on Coruscant. He had been born here, he had owned this place since he could remember. Now, however, it was not a restful visit. He was in search of a man.

A man he knew well.

He had men dispatched days before in the hopes of tracking down his quarry. He hoped he would be able to manage to bring him in alive, and undamaged. However, in his current state of mind.. it may not be a viable option. He must try, for the sake of the Force.. for the sake of the order, for his own sake.