Qaela

With another sigh and a shake of her head, Qaela left the ship. She did want to get moving before the Grandmaster moved to a more secure location and didn't know how long it would take to locate Ar-Pharazon. She hadn't been to Bespin before, but it would be an interesting time. At least the planet was extremely limited in where people lived as opposed to a highly populated planet like Coruscant or a spread out population like Dathomir. She returned to her ship and gave the directions to Gorgeni to get them to Cloud City.

Qaela sighed in exasperation. Sometimes, youth and beauty were a curse more than a benefit. Now that they were in his own ship, he was a threat."I must be departing immediately. If you try to force the issue, I probably can't stop you, but I can guarantee that you will hurt in places where males really don't want to hurt and afterwards, Ar-Pharazon will not receive the information he desires. No amount of torture can force my hand, either, because to inflict pain of the magnitude required to break my will will make it impossible for me to track the Grandmaster. With or without your help, I will eventually find Ar-Pharazon, all I need to do is follow the greatest amount of carnage. The problem is that by then, the Grandmaster could have moved to a better protected location or my ability to track him will no longer be present. "So choose, what is more important to you? A moment of probably less than pleasurable lust at the risk of angering your master and losing your ability to ever sing a bass, or helping me give him the opportunity to strike at the leader of the Jedi when he is vulnerable?"

Qaela was surprised at the ship they went to. She expected something more flashy, something better suited for the typical Sith vanity. Perhaps minions did deserve that much. "As promised, my name is Qaela Zemosa. At the moment, the Dark Lord Haphaestus believes me to be merely his apprentice, though I would beg to differ in that I am not a Sith nor have any desire to be one. Despite that, I do share the Sith's love for darkness, hatred for the light and Jedi, and a thirst for power. "I am coming to you because I believe that, unlike Haphaestus, the Sith Master whose name I mentioned earlier is willing to strike out at the Jedi instead of playing nice with them. While Haphaestus is able to teach me some interesting things, he is either too wrapped up in complex plans of his own or he is unwilling to actually fight the Jedi. "I offer the precise, real time location of the Grandmaster wherever he may go and the information that, at least as of a week and a half ago, he was nearly alone in his present location with few if any Jedi or soldiers with him. If the Sith Master whose name I mentioned earlier is anything like what others say of him and what history has recorded, he will be most interested in that information."

Qaela shook her head, "No, not here where people can listen. Once on your ship, I will talk." ((Not much more I can do, it is up to you to get them on your ship should you choose to.))

Qaela was not amused. She knew precisely what he was asking and had often insinuated it herself in various forms, but this was not an option. Though, to completely refuse would invite insult that may not be the best idea, even in a place such as this where the Force was removed. She would have to phrase things carefully. "I have come from a short stop on Coruscant and before that, other places. To me, it is just past lunchtime, so I am not tired. My business will not take long and when it is over, I will need to depart so that the Sith whom I previously referenced will be able to collect. You are kind to be concerned for my wellbeing, but I am most well taken care of by my slaves."

Qaela was not moved. While a name had power, it didn't have that much power. Perhaps this being””she hesitated to call him a male””before her was so twisted and warped by this Sith that he could think of nothing else. Either way, she didn't think that the Sith would have any anger over hearing what she had to say. "Only a fool would speak of what I wish to tell him in a place where our very words could be monitored. I can assure you that he will be most interested, if not pleased, with my offer. We should go to your ship where we can discuss this away from prying eyes."

After searching a significant portion of the hub she had been led to, Qaela saw something that caught her eye. It was a glint of metal, but not like what she was used to seeing with helmets. It was older looking more rough around the edges. She changed course to investigate and entered an area that reeked of smoke. It wasn't a natural, wholesome wood smoke, but something else, something she didn't like at all. As she got closer, she saw the being that wore it and recognized him from the various holos she brought with her from the Sith Temple. It was her target, one whom she wished to speak with. She approached the man and sat near him. She waited a couple of moments before speaking, "You are the Mouth. I am Zemosa and I wish to get into contact with Sith Master Ar-Pharazon in order to relay some information he will most likely find of great interest."

The Resort was far more expensive than anything Qaela had been in before. She was disgusted by the opulence and plain wastefulness the technology and luxury addicted Galaxy could come up with. Nobody needed all of this, nobody. She was queried about staying here, but said she was not here to rent, just to conduct some business. The receptionist wasn't too thrilled, but Qaela mentioned she was a personal aide to the Dark Lord and was here to meet with another Sith. That didn't exactly make them happy to see her, but they did let her land, but not before warning her that weapons were not allowed and any violence would meet with very painful repercussions. Clearly, they knew what happened when Sith met up. Qaela didn't bother to bring even her wooden knife. If she needed weapons on this mission, she had already failed. The security forces at the station scanned her multiple times before letting her on board, but the only thing she had was a low cut black dress, a simple datapad, and a commlink. After convincing themselves that she wasn't a threat, she requested to speak with the Mouth of Ar-Pharazon and was taken only to a general wing of the station. She sensed the deadness before even entering it. As with the times she went to the Last Call, she didn't enjoy losing her connection to her spellcraft. Still, it was what was needed at this moment. Those who escorted her didn't bother helping her in her search, clearly they had something against her, the Mouth, Sith, or some combination of the three. She began combing the area asking whatever employees she came across about the Mouth. Without being able to use the Force, it would be difficult to find him, especially if he was in his room. She couldn't make an announcement over the intercoms, but she could make it well known that she was searching for the Mouth and hope he would come to her.

After her business on Gala, Qaela was more than happy to return home to the comfort of her own kind. Being around the Grandmaster was not fun. His presence was discomforting and even nauseating due to the light that surrounded him. It wasn't at all the enjoyable and soothing essence of darkness like what Mother and Haphaestus cloaked themselves in. When she returned, as before, she gave a report of what happened. This time, the report was shorter than before. Her mission was a success, at least so far. She still had to deceive Haphaestus. "So, daughter," Teyati said, "the Jedi will go to war with the Sith?" Qaela would like to have thought that, but the Jedi were weak. She had warned their Grandmaster that the Sith wanted their blood, but she doubted they would actually go to war. "No, Mother, I don't believe they will strike. The Jedi are too afraid of open conflict and are not capable of fighting effectively in the shadows. More will need to be done." The older Nightsister considered this. "You must speed up our plan. You must attack them and crush them where they are most vulnerable. Stir the anger between the Imperials and the Republicans until it begins to boil. Let those who are too seeped in the corrupt ways of the Galaxy destroy themselves." Qaela had been looking forward to this. To put into practice her skills at hunting and evasion in a way that would bring bloodshed and destruction was what she had been trained for, at least by the Nightsisters. She was an agent of chaos and destruction. "Before you go," Teyati cautioned, "you need to learn how to make yourself a proper weapon, one to combat the profane lightsabers of the Jedi and Sith alike. Tomorrow, we will begin, but for now you should rest." * * * The next day, instead of going out into the forest or a small glade, they stayed in camp. What needed to be taught didn't require space, just time and patience. In this effort, Qaela made no attempt to learn a Sith method. The spells were too complex and she doubted they could be replicated with any speed on the battlefield. It took hours to be able to perform even the most basic enchantment. She continued to work on a simple wooden knife. As she began to enchant it and make it harder, she was able to sharpen it like metal. The more the enchantments were poured into it, the harder it became and thus the sharper it was. By the time she was finished, the wooden knife could cut as well as any metal knife but was much lighter and even better, more difficult for security scanners to pick up. One of the male slaves carved out the two pieces of a hilt while she worked. When he was done, he used a resin to seal them together and provide a hilt for her knife to help further conceal its identity. Some holes were whittled in so it could be attached to a belt or chord, but for now, Qaela kept it free floating. After three days of work, Qaela was able to perform the enchantments needed to harden an entire spear. She wasn't completely sure it would deflect lightsabers or blaster shots, but she would test it soon. She still didn't want Mother to know she wielded and used a lightsaber. The day after her favorite spear had been enchanted and readied, she departed once again with Mortin to return to the pathetic little spaceport that serviced Dathomir. Once there, she collected the lightsaber Haphaestus had given her, the Jedi lightsaber, and some cash before leaving. She still had one more thing to do before she could go back to Coruscant. She went to a vendor and bought clothes in as close to a Jedi fashion as she could find. After that, she spent several hours hanging around the area hunting for the right prey. At last, she found a perfect candidate, a drifter with few ties to anyone else. He looked haggard and battle hardened, perhaps he had served as a mercenary at one time or was an escaped slave who had fought his way to freedom. It didn't matter, she had plans for him. It took only a few kind words and the promise of pleasure to get the young man into a more secluded alley. There, she changed her manner and asserted her power. After grabbing him with a simple spell of telekinesis, she held him in place a few centimeters above the ground. There, she told him what would in truth be his last few moments of life would be like. "You are going to put on these robes, then I will give you a functioning lightsaber. Defend yourself as best as possible, because if you don't, I will kill you. If you try to run or call out, I will snap your neck as easily as I am holding you up. I am giving you a fighting chance to defeat me, but if you do not take that opportunity, you will simply die and I will find another. Is that clear?" The now frightened man nodded. She threw the brown and tan robes and tunic at his feet and watched him strip his old clothes off and put the new ones on. When he had done so, she handed him the lightsaber and showed him how to activate it. As soon as the blue blade sprung to life, the game was on. Even if he had been a mercenary, he had no skill with a lightsaber. Against Qaela, he had less a chance to win than she had against Haphaestus or the Grandmaster. She was still unsure if her empowered spear would actually block a lightsaber. If it didn't, she would just switch to the red lightsaber or use the Force to kill him. As he took some very shaky swings with the lightsaber, she decided to get this going. With her spear, she advanced and made some test jabs of her own. It took him two tries before he could actually block her attack with a clumsy swipe. The spear held well and treated the lightsaber just as if it were another short staff. Qaela smiled at the confirmation of her skills at enchantments and toyed with him a little more with the spear. Seeing that he was not yet dead, the drifter became more confident. After all, he was a large man and she was a fairly slim young woman. He could easily defeat his opponent if only he would muster his courage and attack. What he didn't know was that Qaela was using the techniques taught by Haphaestus to fuel his own minimal courage and confidence just to get the needed aggression from him. When he finally mustered the courage to charge, she decided the time for fun was over. She threw aside his attacks and drove him back momentarily. She planted the spear into the ground and drew her red lightsaber. Haphaestus would expect her to use such a weapon to kill a Jedi, so that is what she would use. She didn't toy around any more and inflicted several wounds on him in a few swift seconds. She would need some explanation for why a supposedly powerful Jedi was so clumsy and unskilled, the wounds would help sell the story. After this, she had to fuel the man's desire to live so she could whip him into a frenzy or he would have crumbled into nothing. It was annoying more than anything, but she finally managed to do it after pacing around the corner where he had drawn himself in. He made one last charge before it was over. His body fell to the ground just moments before his head landed a few meters away. From this, Qaela would be able to piece together enough memories to hopefully fool Haphaestus should he probe her mind. She gathered the Jedi lightsaber and her spear and left. Walking confidently through the streets back to the landing pad where the Dark Dreams was berthed. A few minutes after she got on board, they were in hyperspace heading for Coruscant.

Qaela was expecting a comms number, but if that is how he wanted to play, that was up to him. "Very well." She picked up a stone and wrote a series of numbers on it using her finger and blood. "That is my comm number if you wish to contact me." "I need to get back to my ship and treat my injuries." She started limping back toward the entrance so she could leave. It would be another two kilometers to her ship, a good exercise in maintaining strength despite being wounded. "Oh," she said over her shoulder as she continued walking, "my name is Zemosa." It took time, but she managed to stumble her way through the forest to her ship where Gorgeni and Mortin were waiting. Gorgeni was used to seeing her return battered and bloody, but Mortin was horrified. She had to shrug off his attempts to help as she cleaned herself up. She was very happy now that they were off of this planet. Being so close to Jedi was difficult, but being nice to them was worse. Still, she had what she wanted and more so Mother would be very pleased.

Qaela nodded at his words. "You have my blood on your hands, Jedi," she said. "Few can say that and I hope that number stays that way. Since you have been so cooperative, if I am given a similar assignment in the future, I will consider contacting you. Do you have a way for me to do that?"

Qaela took the time while the Grandmaster went to retrieve another lightsaber to do some searching of her own. She didn't stray far, but did take note of how the Temple felt and was designed, at least the small portion she could see. It was as uncomfortable as the Sith Temple was comfortable, even without scores of Jedi roaming its halls. When Kitt returned, he handed her another lightsaber, but before she could even attach it to her belt, he flung her through a wall. She had not been expecting the attack that quickly and it knocked the air out of her lungs in addition to a myriad of other injuries. When she went through the second wall, she was immensely glad that she hadn't decided to challenge this man in a fight. His power was similar to that of Haphaestus, just a perverted form of it. Clearly this man had little problems with the weakness of the light when he got around to doing damage. When he released her, she slumped to the ground trying to catch her breath. The pain was good, even if she knew she would be healing up for a time. Even through the agony, she kept a wicked smile on her face. Between heavy breaths, she replied, "Yes, it should be enough." Blood was dripping down the back of her head from a wound and she figured she had more elsewhere. Another set of clothes were ruined, but at least these weren't her favorite, but rather just another drab Sith style set. She reached back and touched the wound with both hands to check how much blood was flowing. There was a good deal, but it was a head wound and those bled a lot. Likely, she was more in risk of a concussion than bleeding to death. While she was down, she quickly breathed a spell as quietly as she could and made it seem as though she were cursing in another language. It wasn't hard, she did feel like cursing quite profusely as the initial shock wore off and pain set in. She stood up after catching her breath and limped back to where Jedi lightsaber was lying on the ground. She attached it to her belt even though her hands left blood marks on the hilt. She returned to where the Jedi was standing and said in as respectful a voice as she could muster around a Jedi. "You do your work well, Grandmaster. It will be some time before I recover, but it will be worth it. As much as I may hate your kind, I can have respect for power and you wield it very well. I am glad now that I did come here with the intent to kill for you would have smashed me like a bug. You have kept your end of the bargain and did not kill me even though you had the chance to do so. You have more honor than most of the Sith I am around and that deserves respect." Though it wasn't her custom, she knew it was the common custom of many in the Galaxy as a sign of respect and the sealing of a deal, so she offered her hand to the Jedi for a handshake even though it did have some of her blood left on it.

Qaela was surprised when the Grandmaster handed her his own lightsaber. She had not expected to be in front of the Jedi's unarmed Grandmaster while holding her own weapons. For a moment, the temptation to attack was great, but she put it down. Not even a Nightsister would violate a white spear and, though there was no spear involved, she had offered a truce and it had been accepted. Even if she were to strike down the Grandmaster himself, if she broke the truce, the Clan would have to exile her or worse. "I will explain, as is my side of the deal," she said. "My master, Dark Lord Haphaestus, has sent me out into the Galaxy to find and kill a Jedi in order to be named a Sith Lord. As proof of my kill, I was to bring back a body part or a Jedi's lightsaber. He has instructed me specifically not to let the Jedi know I was Sith or that he was behind the attack. As you probably suspected, he is not wanting to work with the Jedi any more than would look good to the public. He openly offers a hand of truce while stabbing you in the back with the other. "Instead of complying with his wishes and putting myself at risk by fighting one or more of your Jedi, I choose to do what I am doing now. By simply telling you what he wishes, I can acquire the lightsaber I need without putting myself at risk. You in turn, gain from this as well. I am elevated among the Sith and you save the life of one or more Jedi, and plus are aware that your enemy seeks you harm. "But Haphaestus is not a fool. If I showed up at the Sith Temple without a scratch, he would suspect I either killed a Jedi far below my level of skill and thus was unworthy of a test or I simply bought or found a lightsaber. Not only that, but it would be much harder to lie to him if the wounds were not inflicted by a Jedi. As for the damage done to a Jedi, I need at least some real memory of harming a Jedi to fuel my deception." She looked down at the Grandmaster's offered lightsaber, "I would prefer another Jedi's lightsaber, especially if they were dead. I am not sure how powerful Haphaestus is or how good his memory was. He saw you at the Last Call and may recognize the lightsaber. Even if he didn't, he could sense your presence on the lightsaber and would not believe that I slew the Jedi Grandmaster. If it is the best you can do, then I will take it, but if you have any other lightsabers, I would prefer one of them."

It took all of her will to repress a smirk at the Jedi's comments. "You Jedi always trying to escape pain, even when it is necessary. No, Grandmaster, I would not trade a momentary pain for the added risk I would take by not receiving it. Do not weep, though, I have received far worse pain in other training exercises." She noticed that the Grandmaster did not take her offered weapons. She wasn't going to stand there like a fool holding out her weapons forever, so she lowered her hands to her sides, but didn't reattach them to her belt. The lightsaber's emitter was facing away from the Jedi, as was the blade of the knife. "So Jedi, do we have a deal? My information for a lightsaber and a little exchange of pain? The lightsaber doesn't even have to be in working order if you are concerned about giving a functioning weapon to an enemy."

With a smile, Qaela responded, "I am doing this for myself, of course. Is selfishness not the Sith way? Agree to the deal and you will understand why I did it." Again, there was no lie. She was doing it for herself, from a certain point of view, even if she might not like it. She decided to sweeten the pot. Slowly, so as not to alarm him, she pulled her lightsaber off of her belt with a thumb and single finger. She flipped it to where the emitter was facing herself and offered it to the Jedi. With her other hand, she did the same with her knife. "Here, take my weapons if you do not believe that I am sincere. Surely, a mere apprentice such as myself stands no chance against the Grandmaster of the Jedi when it comes to displays of the Force, so you would be taking my only ability to harm you."

"As you have accepted my truce, I pledge that no violence shall come from my hand unless provoked by the need for self defense," Qaela said in a calm voice. A truce was brokered, even she could not break it without being exiled from her Clan or worse. "I come here to offer a deal. I have information that will save the life of at least one Jedi and am willing to give it to you and thus completely ensure that life will be saved. In exchange, I will need the lightsaber of a Jedi, one that was recently used and bears the impression of that Jedi. I will also need you or another Jedi to inflict minor lightsaber wounds on me. I will need to inflict at least one minor wound on a Jedi, I will explain why should you accept. "As Jedi, I know you have a sense of honor lacking among the Sith and know that should you agree to my terms, you will carry out your end of the bargain. Therefore, once you agree, I will tell you the information first so that you may know I am not going to cheat you. You may employ whatever methods you desire in order to ease your mind. You will understand my terms once you receive that information. If you do not, I assure you that you will have the blood of at least one Jedi on your hands." Qaela knew that someone as powerful as the Grandmaster would be able to penetrate any lies she could offer, so she didn't even try. As much as she might not like what she was doing, she had her orders from the Clan.

Qaela bristled at the implication that Haphaestus was her master, but said nothing. She was finding it difficult to stomach being so close to a Jedi like this, but she was strong and would tolerate it for the greater good of her Clan. She had not expected the Grandmaster to stay around, but that did explain the more powerful source of light she sensed coming in. She bit back a retort, but only just barely. Instead, she replied in a calm voice, "Yes, the Dark Lord has purpose for me, one that involves you." She held her hands out showing that all they held was the piece of white cloth, "I do not come for combat, do you recognize my truce?"

Qaela made it to the gates of the burned Temple without challenge. She couldn't sense the legions of Jedi she expected to find, but just a couple including Nishant. It was odd that none came out to challenge her. Perhaps they were too busy among themselves to do something about a dark one coming so close to their Temple. Or perhaps since it was ruined, they didn't care about it. Either way, she continued. Nishant was here, that much she was sure of, and she could feel a powerful presence cloaked in the sickening light. When she got to the actual gates, she paused and looked around for droids or automated defenses. One more concerning explanation for the Jedi's lack of care for her presence could be that they knew their defenses would kill her quickly. At this moment, the last thing she wanted was violence, especially against machines.

A ship going by the name Euphoria landed two kilometers from the old Jedi Temple. A lone woman, barely what might be called an adult, got out and began the short trek to the Temple. Qaela was dressed in a simple charcoal tunic and a lightsaber dangling from her belt. Tucked in her belt was a long piece of white cloth. As she neared the Temple, a shudder of disgust went down her spine and settled in her stomach. Being near Jedi without the Force negating atmosphere of the Last Call was unpleasant to say the least. She made no attempt to conceal her presence, but neither did she magnify it. She was genuinely curious to see how close she could get before the Jedi noticed her. Just in case, though, she pulled out the white cloth and made sure it was clearly visible. Were she on Dathomir, she would carry a white spear, but she didn't want that tradition revealing more about her than she desired. So, with the white cloth in the open, she continued a measured march to the gate of the damaged Temple.

It had been a long time since she was last home, longer than any time before. During the flight, Qaela had been more civil to Gorgeni, but not as much as she used to be. He did guide her through reversion into realspace and the landing. Her piloting skills were improving enough to where she thought she might be able to handle the ship on her own. By the time she met up with Teyati, she showed only a few marks from the lightsaber damage that would be healed in a few more days. During their trip, she had applied bacta to the worst of them to speed the healing. She wanted to appear as strong as she could after coming back so battered from the last time. The older woman seemed interested in what Qaela had to report about her mission. Everything from robbing the armored speeder to being beaten by the Sith Master to the encounter with Nishant and more importantly the Grandmaster to killing the one who had insulted her was all told over a meal. She neglected to mention that she had wielded a lightsaber, one of the three forbidden things she was never to do. Teyati asked question and for demonstrations of some skills she had learned, a process that lasted well into the night. When she was at last satisfied, she dismissed her daughter so she could ponder on what to do next. It was late and dark at the small camp, time for the various slaves to retire to their tents. Before she went to hers, Qaela tracked down Mortin, her favorite of all the slaves for many reasons. "Hello, mistress," he said when he saw her. They had talked on various things on their journey to the camp and she had told him of Coruscant and its technology. He was fascinated with her tales of the speeders and billions of people bustling around. On a planet that had a population of only a few thousand, the concept of billions was hard to grasp. She pulled him close and kissed him with passion. "Say nothing," she whispered between kisses. She had avenged herself and restored her pride as much as it could be, her vow was fulfilled and she could enjoy her carnal desires once more. She guided him back to her tent and sealed it behind them. * * * The next morning, Qaela rise early, dressed, and left Mortin where he was. Male slaves rarely got to sleep until the sun began to rose, only when they were with one of the women were they allowed that rare treat. Though she wasn't sleeping in late, she would let Mortin do so as a reward for his services. She was actually surprised to see Teyati still sitting in her chair near the fire. A few of the slaves were tending to breakfast, but she ignored them and sipped tea from a cup. Qaela silently sat down on the ground beside her mother and waited until addressed. It took more than an hour for her mother to say something. "You are right to enjoy the company of males, Daughter, but take care not to grow attached." Qaela blinked a few times before responding, "They have their uses, but they are merely males." Teyati studied her face for nearly a minute before nodding in satisfaction, "Come, we have a lot to do before the other Sisters arrive. We will eat first, then you shall learn some new skills." They ate their meal in silence before setting out to the same field she had learned many new skills in. "How are you with your sling?" Teyati asked. "I am still able to use it well, though I am out of practice." The elder Nightsister shook her head, "That will not do. Never abandon the weapons of your ancestors for when used properly, they can be even more deadly than the weapons of the corrupt Galaxy." She pulled Qaela's old sling out of her pack and handed it to her. "Now," she continued, "sling a stone and hit me." As she said that, she began to back up to create some distance between the two of them. They had done this before and it was a rare thing indeed for Qaela to succeed in hitting her mother. This time was no different. Time after time, she launched stones at her mother and every time, her mother either dodged or deflected them with a spell. Dozens of tries later, Teyati stopped them. "Now," said Teyati, "tell me why you cannot hit me. Is it because you are a poor shot?" Qaela shook her head, "No, I can hit a woman's head at fifty paces with ease, double that if I use spells." "True, but then why can you not hit me at just fifty?" Mother asked. "You dodge and are a powerful spellcaster who can counter my spells." "True, and it will forever be that way until you learn to make your attack invisible. There are spells that can conceal objects from both the eyes and the mind. Combine that with your sling and you can hit targets, even spellcasters, before they know what is after them. First though, you need to learn how to mask your own presence so your opponents cannot sense you approaching." For the next several hours, Qaela learned how to conceal her presence in the Force so that not even her Mother could detect her, but only for a few moments at a time. It was a most useful tactic, one that was fairly simple to maintain once the spell was mastered, but mastering the spell would be difficult. As before, though, she intentionally delayed her apparent progress so she could learn how to do it from Sith methods. It was taxing to learn the Sith technique on her own without any guidance, but she did. When they returned to camp for supper, she still hadn't quite gotten down the technique. It would take until the middle of the next day to where she could maintain the stealth for up to a quarter hour. After their break for lunch, Teyati nodded her satisfaction at Qaela's progress. "Now, you need to learn how to mask the presence of small objects. The spells are similar, but instead of masking your own presence, you will be using it on an external object. You must bind the spells to the object you wish to cloak so that it stays with it. Doing so will allow you to make the object undetectable for a few critical seconds before the spell breaks apart. As it is limited in time, the use is really only good for projectiles and little more." It took three days before Qaela was able to successfully cloak a stone well enough to hit her mother. When she did, her mother smiled and beckoned her to do it again despite the pain. When she hit Mother another two times out of four, she called a stop to it and beckoned a male slave to take her spot. "It won't be as effective since he is not a spellcaster, but it will still let you practice hitting a moving, living target while using the spell." She went to attend to other matters leaving Qaela to batter the hapless slave. Hours later, after becoming far more comfortable with the spell, she and the bruised and bleeding slave returned to camp. Waiting for them were several of the Sisters, though not a full Clan Meeting. Qaela waited for them to address her and when they did, answered questions to the best of her ability. They had already been deliberating while she had been practicing and just wanted some confirmation from her before pronouncing their decisions. When she heard them, Qaela was greatly disappointed. She shouldn't have been surprised as she had been the one to inform them and even recommend a few things, but she was not looking forward to what they wanted her to do. While she was with the Sith, the entire Clan had met in scattered groups and decided on a course of action. Now, with the new information, all that remained was to tweak it to account for the new details and to enact it. * * * The next day, she set out once more with Mortin to return to the Dark Dreams. That night, while comfortably in the slave's embrace, she had decided to take him with her off planet. That decision had resulted in a brief argument with Teyati, but the older woman relented when Qaela pointed out that she had her slaves here to attend to her needs and desires, it was only proper for her to have at least one to go with her increasing status. Inside, Qaela was pleased at the small victory. Any victory against her mother was one to be cherished due to their rarity, but as she grew in skill and importance to the Sisters, she could begin to command more respect and privilege. Having another along to confide at least some things in would make her life easier.

((Continued from the Sith Temple thread.)) During the long trip from Coruscant, Qaela meditated and sought to regain control of herself. Her emotions were all over the place and even she knew that they were becoming a danger to her wellbeing. She had to regain control over them before they drove her mad. Anger and hatred may have kept her alive after the Sith acolyte's attack, but they couldn't sustain her forever until she learned to properly control them. After her initial outburst at him, Gorgeni kept at a distance. That was probably for the best as she didn't need him seeing her in the state she was in She was fortunate enough that he was not Force sensitive and couldn't sense her emotional state. It had taken a few days for her to reign in her emotions and regain nominal control over herself. The night before they were to arrive at Dathomir, Qaela felt she had harnessed her emotional state sufficiently to be presentable before her mother, Teyati. Even then, she didn't feel like seeking out the company of Gorgeni. They landed without incident and saw that Mortin was waiting in the speeder. Before she departed, she did apologize briefly to Gorgeni and actually thanked him for his work. It was rare for her to thank him, but after the way she treated him on this trip, she felt that it would keep him from growing hostile if she did. She needed all the allies she could get. During the speeder ride back to camp, Mortin tried to coax the story of her adventures on Coruscant from her, but she didn't tell him much other than to say that the mission was a success. Of all the people in her life, Mortin was probably the closest one she had to an actual friend. Despite that, she didn't feel like opening up at this moment and losing the fragile equilibrium she had build up during the return trip. It took a few hours to arrive at the drop off point, then another ten to march to camp. The long walk was painful on her healing legs, but not as much as it would have been a few days ago. By the time they had arrived, it was well into the night. Mother was waiting for them in her favorite chair when they came into camp. Immediately, her piercing eyes glared at her daughter and took in the leg braces. She waved Mortin away and beckoned for Qaela, "Come, my daughter, tell me of your mission." Qaela did as bidden and sat cross legged at her mother's feet. She ignored the pain that resulted from the move and kept her face impassive. "I have made contact with the Sith, but more has transpired than we had dared hope." She went on to explain her encounter with Haphaestus, who he was among the Sith, and his offer to train her. She spoke of Haphaestus' theory regarding emotion and strength, something Mother found amusing in the least. She told her about being in the Library and the Dark Lord's offer of an alliance between Sith and Nightsister. Mother wasn't happy that their identity had been so quickly realized, but Qaela assured her that there was no way to hide it from him and that he recognized her identity within moments of meeting her. For long moments, the two sat in silence as Mother absorbed the new information. After more than an hour, she looked up and asked, "What happened to you? Who injured you so?" At this point, Qaela's pulse quickened. Deceiving her mother would be difficult, but she wrapped the story in as much truth as possible. She explained that as part of the initiation trials, she had failed and been injured as result. As painful as it was to admit failure of any type, that admission helped divert Mother's attention from more exacting details. "So you have embarrassed your Clan in front of the Sith," said Teyati somberly. "You disappoint me, daughter. Now the Sith believe us to be weak. We must now negotiate from a point of weakness because of your failure." "And yet," Qaela said quietly, "they underestimate us and our strength. They will become confident that we are no threat and will feel freer in sharing knowledge with us." Teyati considered for a few more moments before nodding, "That may be true. This Dark Lord is willing to teach you, yes? Learn what you can from him. Learn the Sith spells and study in their library and from any who gives you information. You will learn what the Sith know and you will then tell me. Perhaps we can take your failure and turn it to our advantage." Relieved that she wasn't more angry, Qaela asked something, "Mother, these Sith are powerful and they are numerous. Teach me to cast an energy web so that I can defend myself if I am attacked." Teyati's eyes flashed briefly in surprise before narrowing in suspicion. "That is a powerful spell, one you might not be able to handle." "Let me try, I will not fail," insisted Qaela. A few more moments passed as Teyati probed Qaela with her eyes and the Force. "Very well, we will begin tomorrow. For now, sleep. You will tell me more of what you learned while we train." That night, Qaela slept alone in her tent. She had to keep her emotions under control here now that Mother was nearby. It wasn't as difficult now that she had faced her mother and not been beaten severely. It was a relief to be back in her own tent with the comforting fire outside and the smells and sounds of the forest all around. In the morning, she woke and found that the male slaves had already made breakfast. After eating, she and Mother went to a nearby clearing where they did most of their training and began. It took hours, but by the end, Qaela began to understand how to cast an energy web that could entrap someone or something and cut it to pieces. It was a cruel way to kill, but that was exactly what Qaela wanted. If she could perfect this skill, she would be able to properly defend herself and even get revenge against the unnamed acolyte who raped her. No mercy would be shown to him, none whatsoever. What Mother didn't know was that Qaela was learning more than what she was being taught. While the Nightsister spells were useful, they weren't going to do in a pinch against Sith. She had learned more from the Sith Library than what she told Mother. Namely, she had been studying on how the Sith access the Force. She applied that knowledge when being taught now to learn how to cast the spell through instinct and emotion rather than just through ritual and spell. Struggling to comprehend both ways of casting the web meant that she had to do double the work. Her seemingly slow progress frustrated Teyati some, but the older woman dismissed it as due to the complexity of the spell. Right now, Qaela didn't want to let Mother know that her daughter was learning things that she didn't know because someday, knowledge and skills like that would make her more powerful than even the most powerful Nightsister. By the next night, Qaela could cast the lethal web using either philosophy with moderate ease. It still required concentration, but she could bring it up effectively and quickly with larger and more powerful webs taking only a little more time. She was no master of it, but with more practice, she would be. Coupling the ability with the raw power of emotions applied using Sith philosophy would make it a very lethal tool against her foes. She couldn't wait until she could find a target suitable to test it on. Qaela stayed at camp for a few more days so that she could meet up with a few of the other Nightsisters and report firsthand on the alliance Haphaestus had offered. The other Sisters were dubious as not all of them had been comfortable with Teyati's plans for contacting them. Many believed that because they laid low and avoided the attention of the Sith, they also avoided the destruction that often followed them. Plus, none had interest in attracting the notice of the Jedi. Nonetheless, they agreed to bring it up with other Sisters at their next Clan meeting. Until then, Qaela was to continue learning from the Sith. After the meeting, Qaela and Mortin set off once more for the speeder to begin her journey back to Coruscant. The Nightsisters had completely healed her broken bones before leaving since they all agreed that it would do no good for her to be injured or killed because she wasn't at full strength. Qaela left that camp with plans both of her own design and those of her mother's.

Qaela always dreaded coming into town. To do so meant that she was on a mission that took her into the world of the weak and away from the comfortable and familiar wilderness that was her home. It didn't matter what she liked or disliked, when Mother told her to go, she went. Disobedience was punishable by beatings or worse: Force induced pain and torture. At least she was able to use a speeder, even if it was nearly a full day's walk from the current camp where Mother lived. Mother refused to allow any technology near her so the speeder was kept in a hidden location somewhat near the area the small Nightsister group liked to roam. When given the order to leave, Qaela and one of the male slaves took the short journey to the speeder and were able to get into town within five hours. The tiny spaceport, the only on Dathomir, was too small to even deserve a proper name. Most of the Witches and all of the Nightsisters hated it and avoided it unless absolutely necessary. Qaela was no different in her loathing of the dirty, enclosed spaces between the buildings or the muddy landing pads that held the small assortment of ships owned by citizens of this planet. Qaela and her favorite slave, Mortin, were approaching the spaceport in preparation for the girl's first real mission. As they approached the Night Dreams, she let loose a sigh. She had long wondered why Mother insisted that the ship be kept here instead of moving it near their camp as they did with the speeder, but Mother said that it was too easy to track a ship coming and going. Qaela supposed she should be grateful that the speeder was allowed to be within twelve hours march. As soon as he pulled up next to the old YT-1930, Mortin smiled and said, "Goodbye, Mistress. I will see you when you return." "We will be sure to notify you upon our approach," said Qaela. "Just be sure to make sure Mother doesn't catch you with a comlink, you are more useful without gashes and bruises." Mortin nodded in agreement and patted his chest where the small comlink was safely stowed in an inner pocket. "I always do, Mistress." The Nightsister nodded and got out of the speeder. She grabbed her pack and turned toward the freighter while Mortin drove off. They didn't know how long it would take for this mission to be completed, so there was no way to set up an arrival time. Because of that, Qaela would need to contact Mortin directly via comlink when they returned. Waiting for her on the boarding ramp was the pilot and mechanic, Gorgeni. Qaela didn't know how Mother managed to acquire him, but he always did as he was commanded even though he insisted he wasn't Mother's slave. He was a human in his early middle age and fair to look at, but not nearly as handsome as Mortin was. Despite that, Qaela enjoyed spending the long nights during space travel with him almost as much as she did with Mortin. "Well, this is it, isn't it?" Gorgeni said. "I didn't think Teyati would ever let us get onto some real business." Qaela's eyes narrowed at his use of Mother's name, but didn't punish him for it. Mother said that she sometimes had to ignore the disrespect of others if one was to be able to use them. Of all their slaves and minions, Gorgeni was the only one who could easily abandon them without much fear of reprisal since he was currently their only link to space flight. While he had taught Qaela the basics of piloting, he was also the only one who knew how to fix and maintain the ship. "Yes, it is, now can we get moving? You know I hate this place," retorted Qaela. "We have a lot of work and I would rather hurry and get it done than waste time. Mother won't be happy if we delay more than necessary." "Relax," he said lightly, "Coruscant is days away, a few minutes won't make much a difference." Despite those words, he did back up and head to the cockpit while Qaela stored her things in the captain's cabin. Gorgeni used one of the crew cabins as his home, though he only slept there when Qaela wasn't on board. The captain's cabin held Qaela's various outfits, tools, and weapons appropriate to the rest of the Galaxy. She usually brought extra food or new trinkets from camp and changed out of her Dathomiri clothes when she boarded. Though she was most comfortable in the rancor hide armor and black robes, Mother said she had to wear the outsider's clothes while on the ship so she was used to them and didn't stick out while on missions. Before she even finished unchanging, she felt the vibrations of the ship lifting off from the dirt landing pad. She had time to join Gorgeni in the cockpit before they made the jump to hyperspace.

QAELA'S CHARACTER SHEET Updated: June 17, 2021 Identity Real Name: Qaela Darksong Homeworld: Dathomir Species: Human Physical Description Age: 36 Galactic Standard years, recloned body at 25 years Height: 5'8" (1.75 m) Weight: 145 lbs (65kg) Hair: black Eyes: brown (often dyed purple) Sex: female Equipment Clothing or Armor: prefers midnight blue robes, medium armor when in combat Weapons: a deep blue lightsaber, blaster pistol, and grenades (2 incendiary, 2 frag) when in combat Common Inventory: usually, a commlink, datapad and datacards, hard credits Faction Information Force User Alignment: chaotic evil Current Faction Affiliation: Sith Order, formerly Nightsisters Current Faction Rank: Master History: Force Side: dark Trained by: Teyati, Haphaestus, Ar-Pharazon Trained who: Telperien Known Skills: tracking and hunting, wilderness survival, rancor riding, stealth (non-Force based) Force Skills: normal abilities for a master level character, most Nightsister specific skills including Beast Control, Force Concealment, Force Rage, Force Weapon, Force Storm and the ability to cloak small objects in the Force for several seconds, minor Sith alchemy; she also has interactions and familiarity with the Spirit World and other Nightsister magicks Background: Qaela is a Nightsister from Dathomir who was sent out by her mother to learn the powers of the Sith. She made contact with the Sith and was tolerated by some of them, but was never fully accepted. She experienced many hardships at their hands including physical assaults, rape, attempted murder, assassinations, and beatings. She fought back on some occasions and killed some of the Sith who were attacking her or were threats, but overall, she developed an extreme dislike of the Sith as a whole. There are not many Sith she cares to be around. One is Lucifer, whom she feels is weak and owes her for saving his life after a duel and for assassinating a Sith who humiliated him. Another is Darth Furion who she believes is one of the only Sith who has honor and can restrain their violent tendencies. She trusts him to a degree, though often pushes the limit of his patience to see just how much he stays to his word. The last is Ar-Pharazon, though that has not always been the case. Ar-Pharazon is the father of her triplet infants, but for a time she believed him a monster who simply used her and abused her. After many months of bitterness and resentment toward him for abandoning her, she found out that he had been captured and her attitude toward him became less hostile. She did fall in love with what she thought was a simple soldier, Ca'Aran, known publicly as Delta73. She was bemused by his rigid sense of honor and the fact that he refused her sexual advances, but later came to love his devotion and willingness to help her at any cost without asking for anything in return. She discovered he was in truth a powerful Black Sun Vigo and was eager to help him when it came time to fly to war against the Jedi on Gala. After that battle, they went to her homeplanet of Dathomir to destroy her controlling mother. The battle proved disastrous with losses on both sides, but most importantly because Qaela lost control of herself and fell into a Force rage. During that rage, she turned on Ca'Aran and killed him thus turning him against her. He gave her three children to the Jedi Grandmaster Kirlocca to keep them away from her dark side influence. She went on a quest to reclaim them which led her from an alliance with Darth Furion to an alliance with the Jedi Master Onderin Starlisk. Starlisk used his Jedi contacts to find her children on Kashyyyk and return them to her, though they had been cut off from the Force. Qaela cares little for power or money or any of the things that typically drive those who embrace the dark side. Paramount to her is her own safety and the safety of those she considers her Clan. She has no qualms about attacking those who threaten her or making alliances with those who can help or keep her protected, even if they are traditional enemies. She also has a very frank attitude toward sex similar to most males, an attitude brought on by the female dominated society she was raised in. Having spent time around the calming effect of Jedi has allowed her to overcome most of her earlier mental instabilities. She has almost complete control over her rage, but she can still be moody at times. Having been raised differently than most other Galactic citizens makes her react differently to situations while her brutal upbringing makes her more or less callous toward weaker beings. She has little tolerance for foolishness and is not quite sure how to react in situations where the immediate answer is not violence. She is, however, extremely frank and open about her own failings as well as the failings of those around her. During Faust's attempt to destroy the Force on Coruscant, Qaela was injured and lost among the massive destruction and losses. She managed to find cover in the Undercity and heal herself using her basic Force spells, but this process took several weeks and left her traumatized and forced to reevaluate her life. For the next few years, she stayed in the shadows, hiding her identity and drawing no attention to herself. Eventually, she decided to return into the spotlight and reclaim her former life. Task Force Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]: Focus Fire One Capital Ship Experience: Veteran, 4XP Composition: Kyber class Star Destroyer Herløv Captain Geratos Tours of Duty: Diplomatic Mission: establish a line of communication between Emperor Exodus and rebel leadership Corellian Campaign: Fought in the initial skirmish to create a beachhead in the Corellian System around Centerpoint Station (+1XP) Second Battle of Kuat: Fought to defend the Sith planet against a Rebel raid. Drove off attackers, but not before several captured ships escaped. (+1XP) Battle of Fondor: Defended against a Rebel attack. Was focused and damaged forcing it to withdraw early from the engagement. (+1XP) Description: The task force is comprised of the Herløv, a name which means "praise gained in war." The Kyber class Star Destroyer was one of the early batch produced on Kuat after it was conquered by the Sith Empire. The ship was given to the command of Captain Geratos, an Onderonian who had spent most of his life in the Navy and rose through the ranks of the Sith even before they liberated his home planet. He maintains strict but fair discipline that doesn't include summary execution or torture of subordinates. He doesn't partake in the often brutal tactics employed by others in the Sith Empire and prefers to inflict the least damage on enemy targets so that they can be later captured and put to work bettering the Empire. Due to his discipline and capacity for restraint, he and his ship were selected by Qaela Darksong as her flagship, with the approval of the Emperor. It fought with her through multiple battles, then continued even after she was killed on Corellia. She was recloned by the Emperor and was presented the ship as a gift by him so that she could continue to serve the Empire.