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This body was so different. Where before there had been taut muscle and strong bone, there was now willowy sinew and a superb sense of balance. Running was easy, bounding and leaping in great acrobatic displays even easier. This body was vigorous, hungry, and had long been accustomed to the high lines of fairs and circuses, when not begging for money in the gutters of Naboo. The two large cats roamed alongside her, taking their time to run among the trees, then the empty streets, before stopping with her near a Sith patrol. With the caution of an assassin, she let the force breeze by her, tasting it for what it would tell her. She kept herself hidden through it, preferring to walk without it in the presence of great kings of power. But nearby there was one such master, an unknown force, waiting at the doorway to the palace of the Queen of the Galaxy. Bidding Katharicos and Apsolon to stay behind. She walked towards the great master, whose presence she had never felt. Things had changed much since the Spider had left. “Master, what brings you through the long stars and mists to the halls of their queen?” Her voice was soft and kind, her appearance of a lowly slave, her outfit that of the Mirai. For this man was unknown to her and she had grown up with this Sith Empire. What great things had he done, what worlds had he enslaved? Or was he like her, a nothing. A failure. @Sith X

Dr. Zylus' eyes went wide. "Wait, what are you-" _____________________________________ *Cough, wheeze, cough* Dr Zylus hacked up water, his fine robes dark and soaking. Beside him, Unit 22 stood impassive, rivulets of seawater running off of him in steady streams. The necromancer had actually broken the barrier. After that...water, rushing water and darkness. Then he'd felt Unit 22 grab him, and when he finally could breath again, he was here, in another one of the gungan bubble chambers. "Half mad...metaphrenic...athazagoraphobic...gangrenous old corpse..." Zylus cursed between breaths. Then he chuckled. He'd forgotten how sadistic Inmortos could be. He stood up, and felt the distinct weight of his soaking robes clinging to him like a dozen cold blankets. "...Should have known these would be a lost cause anyway." He fiddled with the clasp and let the clothes drop to the bubble floor. Beneath, his clothes consisted of a simple set of pants and a tunic. His lab garb. "Unit 22. I need an Otollan gungan, preferably a healthy, younger specimen." Dr. Zylus gestured further into the chaotic city. "Let's hope Krath Inmortos didn't get swept away." Never once did it even occur to Dr. Zylus that Inmortos might be dead. He'd sooner bet on sabaac then on the possibility that his necromancer employer had finally passed on, and Dr. Zylus knew he was a horrible sabaac player.