Spite Station- the Maw

[Raia Montar]

As though summoned by her own will, Rose sprang up from behind the room's medical bed and threw herself into a very surprised Raia's arms. Without thinking, and out of her own relief the young witch returned the hug, though she still felt more than a little disoriented.

 

Rose quickly broke away however, her tone admonishing as she spoke. "What are you doing?! You should be in bed, resting! Your wounds aren't healed just yet, the bacta takes a little bit of time."

 

Raia raised a single eyebrow as she noticed the rest of the staff stepping back now that their run-away patient had calmed down.

"Bac-ta? What is bacta?" she asked, allowing Rose to guide her back to her medical bed, now convinced that these people weren't out to kill her. They'd had ample chance to kill her back in the corridor, and her paranoia had begun to shift into a general curiosity about her new surroundings. It was also a welcoming distraction to keep her guilt at bay for the time being. She could also tell that Rose needed the same, as the girl's eyes were still slightly red and puffy from crying.

[Darth Furion]

She smiled brightly, everything seemingly clicking into place at once.

 

"Oh, that's right. You don't know about much..." Rose giggled as she helped Raia back into bed. "Well, anything, do you? This is all like learning to walk again, huh?"

 

She pulled the covers back and began reattaching the leads. The whining monitors came one by one back into sync with Raia's body, and the long tones fell into several rhythmic beeps and chimes. "Bacta is...well, I guess you could call it a salve of sorts, though its uses go far beyond topical application." She began reciting as if from a text book, studied over and over again. "Its a fluid compound of a few chemicals that promote rapid cell regeneration. The potency can be varied, depending on balancing out the ratios of the components. The doctors injected some strong stuff into your lungs and rib, once they reset it. Then used some lesser patches on your skin to seal the wounds. All in all, you should be fit as a fiddle and on your feet by the morning, like nothing ever happened!"

 

She pulled the covers over Raia and poured her a glass of water by the bedside table. "All of these things hooked up to you do different things. These watch your vital signs, like your heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels in your blood, and pain intensity. The tubes going into you are the bacta feeds. See how they run up to these little bags? That's the bacta."

[Raia Montar]

Raia regarded her for a moment, feeling slightly offended at being told that she didn't know anything and almost immediately became defensive. "Can you field dress a verne?" she crisply retorted, but her own curiosity about the newness that surrounded her was evident in her intelligent gray eyes and she immediately hoped that Rose didn't take too much offense.

 

In way of apology, she sat patiently and allowed the girl to reconnect the various leads and wires back against her olive skin, gradually reducing the cacophony of protesting instruments to a tolerable background symphony of her bodies vital signs. As more and more of them were attached Raia noticed that each of the machines had their own function. Further study and she concluded that these strange boxes fulfilled the same functions to the Sith healers as she did to her mother. The young witch found it fascinating, but Rose's cheery voice drew her attention away.

 

"Bacta is...well, I guess you could call it a salve of sorts, though its uses go far beyond topical application." Raia scrunched up her brow, trying to process what Rose was telling her, as many of the words the girl had just uttered were entirely foreign, but seemed to surround the subject matter at hand. Her confusion only continued as, too, did the young blond's diatribe. "Its a fluid compound of a few chemicals that promote rapid cell regeneration. The potency can be varied, depending on balancing out the ratios of the components. The doctors injected some strong stuff into your lungs and rib, once they reset it. Then used some lesser patches on your skin to seal the wounds. All in all, you should be fit as a fiddle and on your feet by the morning, like nothing ever happened!""

 

Raia was silent for a few moments, trying to piece together what she'd just been told. "Bacta is a salve, but more? It heals faster?" She thought on that for a few moments, then asked. "What is a 'Fiddle' and why will I be one? Is it required to become Sith?"

[Rezjal-el]

Vaegir's shaking fingers closed about the familiar handle of his knife like it was the hand of a dying friend. Seeing it shoved so fiercely into solid stone had indeed worried him that it might be destroyed. His relief was evident, however, as he realized it was more or less unscathed. The blade's value was purely sentimental at this point, considering he could likely get it replaced with any manner of cutlery within a matter of minutes (and in all likelihood he would do just that). A short motion of his arm has the knife replaced on his belt and the young man found himself eye to eye with his new master.

 

"None... master..." he said the word 'master' as though it was part of some alien tongue. The uneasiness he felt when saying it was quite visible in his overall body language, then again, nothing about his little chat sat well with him.

 

As far as he was concerned, his old life was long gone. Now, at least, he faced a whole new chapter. Perhaps this one would prove a bit more liberating than his past experiences. Most of them were rubbish, anyway, so all things considered this may very well be a high point.

 

Nothing to lose, everything to gain

 

A turn of his heel, a step toward the door, and Vaegir casts a glance back over his shoulder. He studies Furion a moment longer, considering just how much his view of the man had changed in a short span of minutes and just how much it will change in the future. But, despite the daunting tasks that likely laid in wait.... he found himself grinning.

 

A challenge. A life worth living. Something productive to do with his time.

 

The cost may be great, but so too is the potential payback.

 

"You'll know where to find me, I'm sure."

[Tobias Vos]

Thoughts plotted through the neurons of the fresh brain. Tobias was scheming. It was impossible for him not to. It was in his very nature to plan for failure and to always have a backup. Flipping on some music he prepped his body for training. Setting up three mini-guns, and a flamethower on repulderlift droids he set it for the most painful setting. There were hiding spots that he set up that he knew he would be using here very shortly. He grabbed three lightsabers and clipped one to his belt. Reaching out with the Force he flicked the strobe lights on. Light's flickering, he ignited the two lightsabers in his hand.

 

"Operation start." He said.

 

Then it was all business. It was like a friggin' laser show. Loud music, strobes, and of course lasers. It was madness.

 

Dodging from barrier to barrier he was passing his self-test. It was hard, this body had not been tested this hard. The hand-eye coordination was on par- for now. The music was almost drowned out by all of the sounds the rounds were making. Within minutes his body was screaming in protest of the treatment. Tobias called on the Force to rejuvenate him. With the precision only the Force, he deactivated a lightsaber, pulled his shirt from his body and sliced it off, reigniting the saber. His short blonde hair was soaked, and so was the rest of his body. But he didn't have time to dry off, he was too busy deflecting, dodging and basically trying to stay unscathed.

[Darth Furion]

And do tell your Sister she may come in as you leave. No use sulking in that dark hallway when she could have had a seat in here with us. He said with a smile, knowing Lallu would be not far on the other side of the door listening. And you'll be moving your quarters to the servant quarters adjacent to my own.

 

Part of the perk of being the Dark Lord's apprentice was having a prime location to slit his throat in the middle of the night. Not something immediately thought of as one of the bonuses of the job, but something slowly seen as an asset when the inevitable time for change arrived. Though, one could consider it going both ways, as you were also in a position to be keenly observed by your supposed prey. Aside all that, however, the serving quarters for the Dark Lord's staff were just as elegant as his own, though much the size of a studio apartment on Coruscant.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

For a moment Rose could only blink in confusion before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. And not a sarcastic laughter, but genuine, happy laughter rising to the rafters and spreading down the halls. The blonde girl doubled over in stitches, having to find support on Raia's bed to keep herself from falling to the ground. Perhaps it wasn't as funny to everyone else as it was to her, but after everything that had happened that day, with all the sudden changes in her reality the question just seemed so humorous.

 

"I...." She gasped out between giggles as hilarity waned and waxed every time she caught Raia's confused expression. "I'm sorry...but that..."

 

It took her a couple minutes to calm down and be able to speak in a cohesive sentence. "Never mind. An idiom for another time."

[Qaela]

Eventually, Qaela grew bored of the Sith drilling himself through exhaustion and pain and left. She withdrew to her quarters and remained there until Raia came back or someone else decided to barge in.This time, they wouldn't need to break down the door because it had already been demolished. At least their individual bedrooms had their doors intact, so Qaela was able to get at least a tiny amount of privacy if such a thing could be found on a station full of Force users.

 

She fell back into her bed and remained there curled up with her legs tucked in against her chest. As she lay there, alone, her memories began to haunt her. Maybe it was the inherent darkness that permeated this place, but she couldn't help but relive her mistakes. She had been given an opportunity to find happiness, peace, and even love. Then she had gone and thrown it all away in a moment of foolish, uncontrolled rage. There wasn't much left here to live for. A life of loneliness and solitude frightened her more than facing any number of Sith. If it weren't for the knowledge that her children were still out there, she didn't know if she could have gone on. She might put on a good enough show to fool casual observers, but every day, it grew harder to pretend. Worse, every day that passed without feeling the crushing pain of her children's death meant that it was more and more likely that Ca'Aran had decided not to kill her children, but was fulfilling his pledge to protect them forever. If that was the case, especially with her life as it was now, it would be wrong to take them from the protection Black Sun offered and into her chaotic life of treachery and danger. She couldn't bring them into this life around all these Sith and rival Nightsisters, not if she cared for them at all.

 

She hated being here, among all these treacherous Sith who thought they were better than everyone else. Even Furion had his own pride and arrogance that reeked of Sithliness, no matter how much he might deny it. She didn't fault him for that, all powerful beings had pride, Nightsisters included. At least he had the ability to control himself, even when goaded. Throughout their conversation, she had expected him to strike out at her, to kill her, but he didn't. To his credit, he controlled his pride and offered only a few verbal quips. Other Sith would have and even did beat her senselessly in an effort to prove their superiority over her. A good part of her had wished that Furion had done just that. At least then, she would be feeling something.

 

Perhaps the Sith were onto something when they glorified pain and suffering. Maybe, after all that they had done, that was the only way for them to actually feel, to connect with humanity or whatever their species called it. After causing so much death and pain, maybe that was the answer: to feel it themselves. Right now, as she reflected on what she had done, what she had given up, she couldn't help but feel that she deserved the pain and suffering. No matter how much she tried to fill her life with lofty ideas of alliances and revenge and power, they just seemed empty. She needed to find something to hold on to, something to give her life meaning and to give her the motivation to continue on. Otherwise, she had best just find some horribly violent way to get herself killed and get it all over with.

[Tobias Vos]

Now it was the time for mistakes. Under strain the body started to waiver. There was a kidney shot which doubled the giant over. Rolling to cover, a lightsaber escaped his grasp and clattered to the floor out of sight. Defending from his back he started to push himself into cover. The sweat helped him glide across the floor. Then, he took a breath, regripped the single saber and charged out. Lights flaring, the red saber whipping around, the guns going off. It was starting to mount on the Kiffar. Reaction times were slowed, fatigue..rampant. Tobias didn't want to quit, but he didn't want to push it too far. Opening his mouth to end the exercise he was double tapped in the back. Once in the head, once in the kidney. Like a bag of bricks- he dropped. Mutter out the ending phrase the boy just lay there for a little bit, his eyes closed with pain he clenched his jaw.

 

Slowly the boy got up. Looking down to see his abdomen, he saw that he was bleeding pretty well. Feeling the back of his head he felt more blood and again on his back. Fantastic... He thought to himself. Tobias grabbed his shredded shirt and wrapped it around himself to stop the bleeding. Frazzled, he made his way out of the training room, resetting everything.

 

The Kiffar wandered the halls back to his cot. There he would rest and see if he could still use the Force to heal. That would be awesome if he could. But it may just be the Gala Garden all over again- get stabbed by an enraged fool. And in the Sith there were plenty of fools. Tobias would be ready, if he could heal that is.

[Keenava Dira]

The silence she felt around her consumed her. After consideration, she couldn’t even hear her own thoughts. The only thing that kept her there; the only thing that held solace in her vacuum was the sound of her heartbeat; a percussion of sounds that pounded in perfect precision, as if to mock her imperfections. It was an ironic device that simultaneously provided her adulation and her miserable uncertainty.

And do tell your Sister she may come in as you leave. No use sulking in that dark hallway when she could have had a seat in here with us…

He doesn’t need to know…

Lallu saw as Rez left and ignored him. Her eyes hung on the wooden door, glued to each and every grain, trying to pry her attention away from sorer subjects. Her mind was in a flurry of random thoughts and she could barely feel the porous surface of the door as it parted with a small push. Her face was solemn, her lips were straight, and through every power she possessed, they weren’t quivering. Even when those golden eyes pierced her, she remained still. Time blurred around her and the few moments of awkward silence that passed between them was excruciating. Words boiled to the surface of her mouth, but she couldn’t form syllables. Her hands almost made for her head, to provide additional support for her addled brain, but she kept them at her sides. When the sound of Rez’s footsteps were gone and she could no longer hear him breathing in the hallway, she stepped closer.

 

Her hands slowly made their way to her chest where they stayed tightly clasped together. Her eyes, limpid pools of crimson flame, never left his. Every sense bathed in his presence to the point of intoxication, but impulses were contained. Her confidence showed in the look of stone on her face and the symbol of the Sith etched into her face.

 

The words that she wanted to say and the thoughts she wanted to express congealed into a single question. It was still a little rough for her to speak, but after a minute or two of complete silence, she nodded her head down a little and spoke to the room.

 

“What did it mean?”

 

It was an innocuous statement, but the burning in her eyes filled in the context.

 

She let the words hang, she let her stare proceed and her feet never left the floor. No tears streamed from her eyes and she stood completely still.

[darth shadowlord]

"Aye, perhaps he will object to my views. It matters little to me, I say it exactly as I see it. Should it cause a problem, then I will sort out the problem and deal with it at that time."

 

Draken paused for a moment before continuing to speak. "I know something of you as well Cadivus, I sent several of your brothers to their demise in times past." He smiled for a second as he re-called sending the Wookiee to a fiery death on a warship.

[Raia Montar]

"Idiom?" The dark-haired girl repeated quizically in her lilting Dathomiri accent. "I told you, I'm not an idiom, it's just things are very different here," the young witch stated matter-of-factly, completely mistranslating what the blond-haired teen was saying. "Rose, you are very strange," Raia smiled back as she attempted to be polite, or at least what she knew to be polite, feeling some of the tension leave her body. Her statement seemed to just set the girl off again, and this time Raia felt herself smile and join in with the contagious giggling. 

 

A few of the medical techs glanced over in concern at the two girls, one or two of them of them had disapproving looks on their faces. Having just reset their patient's ribs, reinflating her lung, and thwarting an escape attempt, they were rightfully worried that the spasms might delay Raia's recovery if she didn't allow her muscles to rest. One of them managed to meet the witch's grey eyes for a moment, causing Raia to bite her lip in acknowledgment as she tried to hold the emotional response back. The two girls looked at each other, but only managed a few moments of silence before bursting into giggles one more. 

 

Regardless of the consequences to her recovery, or the soreness such actions produced, it felt good to release some of the raw emotions that had been building inside of her since she'd first been thrust into Qaela's care and into the outside galaxy with no real preparation for life beyond the forests and villages of Dathomir. Since she borded the strange metal vessel that brought her to an even more bizzare environment, Raia had slowly felt any and all control of her life slipping away. It was the same feeling that had caused her to leave her villiage, but escape had only served to thrust her back into the same situation. Only, this was far more dangerous. 

 

As she laughed, she found that she felt more like crying, and soon tears began to fall from her eyes as homesickness and gulit over the brute's death overwhelmed her. She had to acknowlege that the guilt was there, despite the fact she knew that if she hadn't acted, it would have been her end. Her fate was once again been determined by others, but in her defiance of their will, she was forced to break one of her tribe's cardinal laws. Even if she tried to return to her clan, she'd be cast back out, for the elders would sense what darkness she carried. Taking another's life tended to leave a permanent mark on the soul, and through their magic, it was easily detected. As the permanent loss of her home sank in like salt in a freshly opened wound, Raia realized that if she was going to make a new life here, in this artificial shell, she was going to need to make allies of her own.

 

After a few moments, she was able to regain her composure. "I'm sorry about earlier, I wasn't sure if you'd given the command to kill me or not. I wasn't sure how far the Nightsisters would go," she apologized, bowing her head, before continuing.

 

"Rose, I can never go back...and..." she stopped herself, weighing the consequences of the admisson she was about to make. On the one hand, she could be stepping back towards her death as such words could be taken for weakness, a trait that - according to Qaela - the Sith dispised. On the other, she felt as though she would burst if she kept anymore inside. There was something about Rose, and Raia found herself trusting the girl, despite her obvious connection with the Sith. Her gray eyes raised to regard the girl standing next to her bed. Her voice was a quiet whisper as she continued, willing to accept the consequences, "...I can't survive here, at least not without help. You're not at all how Qaela said the Sith were..."

[Hou-Jo Poleb]

"Ah, yes. I never had the opportunity to meet your parents in person, though I had made it a point to know as much about them as possible. I appreciate what they did for our brotherhood during their time in this world."

 

Cadivus focused his attention to the other he was speaking with, unconcerned with the kiffar (at the moment, at least). "My affairs never led me to deal with them personally, as Lord Shadowlord is seemingly aware. Though I do not know the difference between what he knows and what he thinks he knows, my suggestion to him is all the same. He should keep it to himself or speak with myself or the Dark Lord about it privately. Unless he wants to compromise a colossal advantage the Dark Lord and I will press against the Jedi. Though undoubtedly proud of yourself, and you should be, more of my 'brothers', as you put it, fell to me than you."

 

He tugged at his mask, adjusting the leather as it was irritating his face in its current placement. To his memory, he never encountered Shadowlord in person, yet he somehow recognized Cadivus' from his past life. Whether through the Force or by seeing through the mask, Shadowlord may have stumbled upon privileged information. "As much as I would love to see where this conversation might have ended, I grow weary of this jockeying. I shall leave you two to the lady. Besides, some of us have more to do than drag our heels rather than swim with the current. My responsibilities as a Triad are numerous and time-consuming and I must get to work. Enjoy the luxuries of the Maw, Lord Shadowlord."

 

He directed an ever-so-subtle nod to Lucifer, relaying no hostility, "Kiffar."

 

With a smile and a bow of his head, he made ready his retreat. "Mi'lady. Until we meet again."

 

The Fallen One boldly turned. Not sharply on his heel, but as nonchalantly as possible without appearing deliberately so. He made his way over to a monitor. He made instructions to the computer to replay the fight of the two acolytes he had missed, catching up on the carnage. Perhaps one of these individuals could be useful to him.

 

[Rezjal-el]

“Oh, hey, Furion wants to…” Vaegir addressed the dark skinned twi’ as he passed into the corridor.

 

She didn’t answer.

 

“… right… good talk.”

 

With a shrug he continued on his way, paying no heed to the woman and her perpetual silent treatment. His feelings on the twi’lek were mixed. She was indeed his rescuer, though she came at Furion’s behest. She remained closed off and unwilling to so much as engage in even the smallest of small talk. Hell, Vaegir didn’t even know her name. But yet, part of him wasn’t ready to write her off entirely. Some small part of him wanted to consider her some sort of…. Friend? Acquaintance? Regardless, she was the only person aside from Furion that he knew aboard this station, and Furion had just made it clear their relationship was not one based on friendship.

 

Realistically she’d prove to be little more than a rival. This he knew. This he had to keep telling himself even as he made his way back to the gathering of Sith.

 

Shouldn’t be surprised.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The air in the ball room seemed altogether different. The scent of blood and sweat had indeed tainted the air, but there was something else that caught his attention.

 

FOOD!

 

In his haste and fury he had neglected the overflowing feast that lay only a few yards away.

 

The smell of succulent meats and fruits gripped at his senses, drawing him closer with its siren song of flavor. Two years with little to eat but moss and half-cooked meat had left his tastes adjusted to survival mode. Food had been fuel, pure and simple. Now... now it was something to be cherished and enjoyed. Now… food was an art form.

 

Each footfall carried him closer to his goal. A plate was scooped up from a nearby table. A fork as well. Finally he stood before what had previously been something that existed only in his wildest of hunger-inspired dreams.

 

Every other dish was piled onto his plate before he made his way to a seat. Despite his careless indulgence, he’d not let his joy lull him into a false sense of security. He chose a place amidst a number of newcomers, their timid eyes and youthful behavior seemed more fitting to someone such as himself.

 

To be perpetually youthful, at least when compared to a human’s shorter life span, could be both a blessing and a curse. In this case, it allowed him to blend in as just another young potential. Well, that, and it made his sudden, urgent need to shovel food into his fanged maw all the more acceptable…. Sort of.

[Sheog the Mad]

Slowly spinning a large domination credit-chit between his chubby, greasy fingers, the Lord of Gluttony moved swiftly towards the refreshments, quite satisfied with the day’s outcomings. Patting a young apprentice on the shoulder, (Rez), Sheog let a small amount of Sith energy into the man, which gave him the temporary feeling of great hunger for the Force, as well as a feeling of power. With a small sigh, Sheog reached out in the Force, towards the mind of the Dark Lord,

 

<>

[Nokrt]

A shuttle bearing the reborn Sith Lord Nokrt appeared in hyperspace well outside of the known deadzone for spacers known as The Maw, a place where black holes existed in close proximity and had swalled the lives of many Spacers who tried to expedite hyperspace travel. How it was discovered? The Chiss never wanted to know, but it was here, and so was his destination. The Chiss shuttle moved slowly through the marked lanes of traffic, until he knew he had to be within sensor range and have a tractor beam pull him in the rest of the way without the worry of being sucked into oblivion.

 

The Chiss pressed a few buttons on his dashboard and streamed out his Chiss codes simultaneous with his old Sith codes he had for when the temple was still on Coruscant. He waited to be granted authorization to be allowed to land on the Sith station.

[Darth Furion]

"What are those?" Asked one communications officer to another.

 

"Old codes from previous Sith organizations. At least the files we have from back then seem to fit the pattern."

 

"I wonder how it found its way here? Very few know of our presence, the Master made sure of that..."

 

"Of course. Contact the Dark Lord while we inquire."

 

The officer only offered a nod to his superior before heading out, though questions still hung in the air. The only beings that knew of the location of Spite Station were presently here, and none had left since arriving. No communications had gone out, no word from the Master saying others would be on their way. If this were a security breach it would be met with swiftly, but nothing could be done without orders unless the ship took some sort of offensive action. Long range communication jammers hummed alive to seal the leak until orders were given.

 

::Unidentified shuttle. You've arrived at a classified location unexpectedly utilizing expired codes. Who are you, and why shouldn't we blow you away where you sit?::

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

At once Rose got quiet, all joy sinking from her eyes into the pit of her stomach. "You really don't get it, do you?"

 

The question soured her tongue, the answer already plain as day on Raia's troubled face. Of course she didn't understand, she had just walked out of the woods and into the fire, without so much as an orientation as to what she was getting herself into. Hell, she didn't really understand the galaxy as a whole, let alone the mechanics behind the Sith. Everything was new to this young witch, and rapidly coming at her from every direction. Rose couldn't help but feel bad for the girl, but knew there was very little she could do to ease this transition.

 

"I can't help you. No one can anymore." The words were heavy, undoubtedly for both of them. "You know that mark we received at the coronation? The tattoo that burns in your chest? That is the symbol for one in the old Sith tongue. Its my Father's reminder to us all that we are all individuals above all else. The Order, our family and friends, they weigh far less now than our individual selves."

 

Sorrow fell on her face as she spoke, for the first time saying out loud the very matter that had made her heart ache these past few days. For all intents and purposes she was now her father's daughter in name only. Since she had taken the steps to become Sith herself, she had made the conscious decision to distance herself from Julio by acknowledging that she was an individual. Until then she had always been simply his daughter, under his protection and strength. Anything she ever wanted, anything she ever aspired to be was utterly and completely eclipsed by him because she had not the strength to carry out her own will. Nothing but his little girl. Rose stared into those grey eyes that mirrored her own so keenly it cut her, and she wanted nothing more than to run away to her room and hide. Hide from the truth and desolation of it all. But she knew this to be weak, something the little girl would do. Not what a Sith would do.

 

"My father..." She began after a moment, lost in thought and feeling. "Didn't want me to become a Sith. Not really, anyway. Though he believes with the entirety of his being that the path of the Sith is the only true way to freedom, he didn't want me to suffer as he has. He wanted to keep me tucked away, safe from the rest of the galaxy and oblivious to the truth. He wanted a life of ignorance for me, so that I may not know the pain of freedom."

 

Why was she saying all of this, any of this to a stranger? The question buzzed in her mind, but she ignored it, the first few soft words uttered like trickling of water through a breach in the dam. Once it was broken, there was no holding it back, and her heart yearned to pour itself out to anyone, to express these mournful feelings deep inside that few would understand. But Raia would, at least Rose felt she would. It didn't matter anymore, she just needed to let it go, say it out loud so it couldn't be denied anymore. So her mind could acknowledge the decision and move on instead of lingering in the past. As she spoke on her words grew quicker, for so long already articulated in her head but no where to go.

 

"Of course this caused him all sorts of discomfort. You see, I was his only weakness. The daughter he dared to love. On one hand he wanted to keep me safe, yet on the other he wanted to see me thrive, to grow with the truth in hand as a strong soul just as he was. And I could see how much it pained him to keep me. How much effort he spent to protect me. That's why I decided to join the Sith. So I wouldn't be a weakness to him anymore. Well that, and I had been studying far too long to be ignorant anymore."

 

Her hands fiddled with the corner of the sheet on Raia's bed, nervous and excitable as more and more came out. "You see...being a Sith isn't really about being powerful or strong or about doing whatever you want whenever you want. That's what a lot of people sign up for, but that is really only the base of the mountain. Its higher than that. Its about discovering yourself, growing beyond where you stand now into a person greater than before. I was tired of just being 'Julio's daughter', a weak little girl that had to hide behind daddy's coat when the cops came knocking. I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to be unsure. I don't want to be weak. I want to stand on my own two feet, in front of anyone in this galaxy and say 'My name is Rose Furion and you will not stand in my way.'

 

She stood up, a small glimmer of light in her wetting eyes. "I wish I could help you Raia. Really, I do. But everything from here on out will be catering to our growth and self discovery. Anything I do to help you will only make me stronger and you weaker. The best way for me to help would be to let you do it on your own."

 

It hurt to say, knowing full well that the sentiment was exactly what lay in her father's heart as well. He would never be there to help her, not if he wanted to truly be of any help. Any suffering, any hardship she would be to experience in the future will either make her stronger, or kill her, and that is something not even the Dark Lord can stop. The pain was too much, she needed to go somewhere, anywhere and get some air. The thought stirred in her a pang of anger for a brief second as she realized there would be no place to get 'fresh air' on the space station. Yet she turned to leave anyway, hesitating at the door.

 

"But I want to be friends. As much so as any two Sith can be. If you want, that is?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As Lallu came into the study Julio could already feel the hesitation saturating her. It stifled the room, left the mind begging for a question to be spoken simply so that it could be answered. Yet as the seconds ticked on his own thoughts drifted back to their last substantial interaction, and slowly began to realize how very real it had been. No doubt as to what it was Lallu was hesitant about now. To her Julio stood as many things, either symbolically or realistically it was hard to tell. Did she see him as a pseudo replacement for some figure in her life past, or was what he stood as now something utterly new and completely lacking from anything before? Certainly her attachment to him was something powerful and substantial, yet to him it seemed somewhat baseless. She knew little of him in truth, and their time spent together had been few and far between. How much of the 'Julio' in her mind was built on observation, and how much was pieced together to suit a much needed role in her life?

 

"What did it mean?"

 

For a moment Julio was quiet. Oddly enough the question struck him as a true quandary. He had always tried to figure out how she saw him, and the very why of it, yet had never delved into the depths of her mind to pry the answers out himself. Not once had he thought to infringe upon her privacy to take whatever he wanted from her fragile mind. She was like a wounded animal, offering little but promising much, if tended to properly. Beyond that he saw no purpose in the intricacies of her mind. It was a mind of suffering, that was all. But now the lens was reversed. She was asking him how he felt about her, and truly he had never thought about it before. Until this very moment she was another apprentice to be used as needed to accomplish the end results. But that wasn't entirely true now was it?

 

There was something in Lallunia Kallemi that he admired. Something in her unabashed adoration of him that was difficult to ignore. Whatever feelings she had for him, they were strong, albeit perhaps misguided and ignorant. In return he felt something for her as well, but where did it come from? Why did he have any feelings toward her at all? It didn't make sense. It all seemed so...unnecessary. At the same time, however, something felt wrong in simply pushing this aside. He couldn't just ignore a feeling and cast it off as trivial. These feelings were what comprised him, what made him into the individual he was. Perhaps it was this new charge as Dark Lord, one who stood to exemplify all that was Sith, that made him begin to question his emotions and exactly how he dealt with them, but now that the thoughts were in his mind, they were ones that could not be ignored any further.

 

What did it mean to you?

 

An easy hedge, but one he hoped would transition the conversation more toward her. It was easier to discuss and understand the thoughts and emotions of others. Easier to dissect another being down to their components rather than break apart one's self to see the truth. This was something he would certainly have to explore on his own, but at another time when he was alone and there were no expecting eyes skewering him to his seat.

[Keenava Dira]

Lallu held her silence for the first few minutes. The vacuous chasm that stretched between them seemed to swell with every doubt, every regret and every question. No one statement was enough to epitomize her feelings, yet words were all she knew. Words kept a metaphoric balance between the sincerity of actual feeling and the uselessness of empty air and it was a comfort to put up a blanket of words to hide her discomfort even if she knew that he could see through it. But Lallu was taking strides to be more confident. She was trying to pry away the artifacts of dead relationships and the remnants of psychosis that held her back from being what or who she truly was. The only problem was; what or who was she? Why did she love Furion? What motivation was there for her affection and was it true or was it a machination of desperation?

 

She was lost. Her eyes darted about the room in a hopeless attempt to dodge his nonspecific counter question. She massaged the tips of her lekku as they lay atop her shoulders and scrunched her nose up to the bridge, right below her ruby red eyes. She was zooming in an arc, paying no specific mind to any one thing until…

 

Until she caught those golden eyes…

 

Words echoed in her head, feelings surged to the top of her mind and flashbacks popped like wildfire. There Furion was, giving a lecture to the sith, feet from Lallu’s prone body; there Furion was, time after time, giving Lallu a chance to prove herself; there Furion was, standing inches from her chained body with that wolfish grin on his face. He freed her that day, more than he knew. He gave her meaning and even if he didn’t share her feelings, he was the most important person in her life.

Lallu… What do you want?

 

You

 

'Want' was such a feeble word for the potency of her feelings, but his visage consumed her regardless. The mythical representation of everything that held her together for so long shattered under the weight of that conclusion and, without thinking, she was across the room in seconds. She grabbed at his loose shirt and pulled him in, putting his mouth on hers and closing the gap between them as he did weeks ago. There was a moment of silence as the room seemed to buckle under the weight of such an act, but after that moment, the room filled with an explosion of pent up feelings. Lallu pushed herself to the limits of her emotional vulnerability and let every inhibition crack. She released the past week or two of confusion and agony, then compounded it with years of added emotional baggage, all without physical gestation. Like a faucet with water bursting from the pipes, her passion sprayed every which way and filled the room to its brim. It wasn’t only passion though. A menagerie of other emotions, colors, thoughts and specters of the mind fluttered throughout the room and shielded them in the entirety of their presence. The spectacle was messy, wild and chaotic, but Lallu’s form was still. She held sincerity in her eyes and the clarity of understanding in the tears that left them.

 

She kept the stillness between them for a second or two more and then pulled away from him. She looked a bit paler and her eyes a little foggy, but her smile was genuine. She left herself vulnerable without fear of reprimand. She knew if anything happened, her feelings would be the same.

 

She looked down, suddenly appearing embarrassed for her actions, but even when she turned away from Furion and walked toward the wooden door, she kept her smile.

 

When she reached the wooden double doors, scratching the porous surface with her black nails, she looked back at him and brightened up a little bit.

 

“No matter what happens…”

 

Then, she pushed quietly through the door, and was gone.

[Tobias Vos]

His eyes flashed open, pupils readjusted to the light. Something told him to get up and go to a certain signature... Furion's. Uncrossing his legs he placed his feet onto the ground and stood up. He breathed in, and stepped forward towards the door leaving the beast to keep his cot warm. Sighing, the doors opened with a shushed "ker-spech." Stepping through the doors he concentrated. The way to the Dark Lords Office was fairly obvious, it was just a little weird to feel this way. Tobias wondered what Adenna would say, if he were a "Jedi"... just walking into the Dark Lord's presence. A little swell of rage built up. Nothing would please him more than to have her beg forgiveness at his feet. But that would have to be saved for another time. Revenge could be used, twisted and beneficial. Something every Sith needed.

 

Was he really a Sith again? It felt so odd to be back among the others. But he was even different, he could feel it and so could everyone else in the station. His signature was more grey than anything. Due to the time he had spent with Adenna....and freeing some slaves and such. He tried to push the girl out of his mind- she needed to be gone. Tobias realized he needed a clear head to talk to Furion. That's IF Furion wanted to speak to a "Sith" with a grey signature. Tobias knew he would have a lot of explaining to do.

 

Tobias couldn't remember the last time that he and Furion spoke...it had been years. He could not even recall what they spoke about. Which was odd, because Tobias rarely spoke to other Sith the few instances that he did- should stick out. Most of his training had been done in seclusion, away from the others. Maybe that had something to do with his trust issues with fellow Sith. Never being around others led him to trust himself and only himself. Which in some aspects was a good thing, but also a bad thing. Never having backup? That has pinched him in certain situations before.

 

Before he knew it, he was in front of the calling- The Dark Lord's Office. The Force called to him through the door. Gently, Vos pushed his way into the room, not expecting what to see, or even receive.

 

"My Lord, Darth Furion..." Tobias called into the room.

[Darth Furion]

It all happened in such a daze. He knew her intent, knew that she would be coming toward him, knew even that she would kiss him. But he couldn't move to stop it. He hesitated, two opposing ideas fighting for action or inaction in his head between denial and acceptance. He didn't shy away, but he didn't embrace her either. At least at first he didn't. She felt so forceful, so sure of herself and these emotions she felt that she felt them freely and without regard, even toward him whom they stemmed from. It was the confidence he had for so long found lacking in the girl that had removed her from thought, and now present seemed to consume every thought in his head. As she seemed to blossom he found his hands wrapping around her waist, holding her in just as tightly as she pulled him. It was so odd, so curious, yet so full of bliss the other two seemed to melt away. Lallu poured herself out to him, flowing freely and unashamed of the passion in her heart. This was what he had felt back when he thought he would never see her again, when he thought it to be his last free moments alive. This was true passion. This was the unadulterated power of the Sith. This was exactly what he had been missing for far too long. Years now he had worked so hard to maintain control, to lock himself away to hide any vulnerabilities. Now it didn't matter. To hell with vulnerabilities, this was true freedom, no matter the cost.

 

And though the kiss held for quite a while, it seemed as if it were over as quickly as it started. The waves subsided, the dizzying feeling in his head seemed to clarify as normal thought began to fall back into place, and all felt so quiet. Tears had begun to fall down her face, but he felt no sadness in her, only relief and exaltation. Tears of joy, it seemed. The oddity came back to him, and he wanted to wipe away those tears marring such a unique moment. What exactly was that just now? Was that....no, it couldn't be. A man like him couldn't truly love anymore, could he? Hadn't he gone too far now to take anyone with him?

 

Suddenly embarrassed, Lallu spun on her heels and headed for the door, pausing for just a moment to look back and smile at him. That smile covered a body full of scars like they had never happened, like that moment of shared happiness had wiped away years of suffering. He liked that smile, and wanted to see her wear it more often. Just knowing he could make anyone feel that way warmed him, but not as much as what she said before parting.

 

"No matter what happens..."

 

And she left it hanging, but it didn't seem like anything else needed to be said. She would feel that way about Julio no matter what happened, unconditionally and completely, as she always had. The wooden door shut softly and the Dark Lord found himself just standing there, speechlessly staring at the door. Suddenly he became aware of his breathing, slow but still heavy, and his heart was thundering in his chest and drumming rhythmically in his ears. The physical reactions alone were enough to surprise him, given how rigorously he had trained to control the very things, but it was the fact that these details escaped him for the longest time that surprised him the most. How mighty passion truly was.

 

Julio didn't get the time to digest the happening before yet another Sith came to his door seeking words. The rasping at the door was enough to click something into place deep in his head, and in a moment the last few minutes were compartmentalized in the blink of an eye, filed away to be sorted later. His breathing rapidly returned to normal, his heart slow and steady.

 

Come in Tobias. I've been waiting for you.

[Tobias Vos]

"Yes, We have much to discuss." Tobias closed the door behind him. It was good that Furion was expecting him. It was less awkward. There were several key points Tobias needed to talk to Furion about. Might as well start off at the beginning. Sped up of course, the Dark Lord had many matters to attend to, and Tobias was just a small gear in the Sith Army.

 

"I will try to be brief... As you may have already noticed, my Force Signature is not dark like everyone else's. I have been undercover with the Jedi- trying to find out where they all went to hide. It was a plot I conceived as my trials into Lordship. Slicer, approved it and sent me on my way. I joined forces with Jedi Knight Adenna, and followed her exploits. We freed slaves on a planet called Thalssia, and she trained me in the art of healing. In the battle, her apprentice was lost, and we gave pursiut and found her on another planet. I put down my foot and we seperated, I went to assist a Sith Apprentice known as Emily. I tried to send her a status report hidden in my lightsaber. She failed to give that report to Slicer... Then I went to Gala to further my mission. Shortly after I arrived- I was attacked by a furious Jedi Master, known as Dahar. I ended up healing myself, and then found myself under the supervision of Master Dahar."

 

Tobias paused. It was a odd story, and he even took some time to reflect on some of it. As always, Adenna's mention fired up his blood.

 

"In my time with Master Dahar, I found he could be turned. He is intrigued by the Dark Side, and could prove to be useful later on. After I fell into the supervision of the Master Jedi, the Sith attack began. Finding myself in the Command Center- I took advantage of Dahar's distraction and uploaded files from the Jedi Servers to my ship- then through my ship to Slicer's ship orbiting the planet. I got what I needed, and caught Dahar's attention. He banished me from the Jedi Temple, believing me to be the cause of the attack. He sent me on my way, I left. Orbiting the planet I discovered where the Jedi left."

 

Pausing for effect... "Tython."

 

"It is the only logical location for them to retreat to." Tobias quickly sputtered. "I have passed my trials only to learn that my teacher- Sith Master Slicer- has vanished from the known universe. Months of undercover work, wasted, because the Dark Lord that I started this mission under -Haph- has since disappeared as well. That is my report- Jedi are back on Tython, and Jedi Master Dahar can be easily turned. Currently, I can heal as well, due to my grey standing in the Force. The Jedi never knew I was still an agent of the Sith, and can be re-inserted if need be."

 

Tobias looked straight ahead at Furion. It was a funny little story that Tobias just spilled. He was curious to see how Furion would take the news that these were his trails- he passed, and needed to be Knighted. Mentally, he crossed his fingers in hopes that he did finally get his reward, and recognition for his actions. Furion was darker than most of the Sith, so there was no real telling of what he was thinking.

[handofthrawn]

After looking into the matter, the mod team has unanimously decided that Tobias was unable to discover that there was a Jedi Temple on Tython from the information he interpreted. Even according to his own posts, all he was able to determine is that there is a place for shuttles to refuel and offload supplies "near Haruun Kal". There are many worlds near that location. Furthermore, it seems unlikely that information stored in the Temple on Gala would sufficiently allude to a secret base in order to pinpoint the world where it is located. The entire purpose of the Tython Temple is to be secret, and the precautions the Jedi Order has taken should be sufficient to keep Tobias' snooping from turning up anything definitive.

 

With that in mind, Tobias' post--at least the parts about the whereabouts of the Tython Temple--are nulled.

[Nokrt]

Nokttin'okr'tihnt was unsurprised by the reaction to his arrival in the Maw. He had not yet discovered the location he seeked, but now he knew his information had to be correct. His underlings had done well in loading his ship with the coordinates to the Maw at the very least, after rumors of Sith having been seen coming to and from the location for a time. Nokrt was hoping their information was good, it seems it was. He waited only a moment, his eyes fixated on the wormhole ridden space around him, trying to keep himself from being sucked into singularity.

 

The demons within him that once presented themselves as a bloodlusting lunatic were gone and the newfoudn professional Sith Lord that Nokttin'okr'tihnt was now had taken hold. He moved his pale blue hand to the console and replied with a stern voice that was quite becoming of his new self.

 

"This is a shuttle bearing Sith Lord Nokttin'okr'tihnt who is en route to meet with the Sith Order, and show fealty to the current Dark Lord of the Sith. Given the difficulty of the trek to your rumored station, I will await your approval, astrogation chart to your location for a safe approach, or a tractor beam to pull me to the station if you have such things at your disposal"

 

The Sith Lord released the comm and waited, staring into the pitch black spots of space that were the death to many spacers who tried to find new trade routes through this sector of space. The amount of death that happened here should be able to be felt, but the blackholes seemed to suck even the feeling of death and malice out of Space. The Dark Side itself could only just be felt so close to these powerful machinations of nature. Nokrt leaned back in his chair and thought on that subject, thought on the philosophy of a life disconnected from the Force, and how empty it must feel to not have such a connection. He felt sad for the universe without the access to the Force and it's infinite power.

[Yue]

Ceremonies. Bah.

 

First the food was not needed. To fancy and over done. Then again when in home of the Sith do like the Sith. While he liked bloodshed but he was in no mood for it. The spirit of discovery was abound. That spirit is a slave driver and it demands to be fed.

 

The upside to he ceremony ringing in the new era of the Sith was the ink. It was alchemical in nature. It took a shape desired by its bearer and burned like a mother. It traced itself on the right arm of his body. From hand to half way up his fore arm. It would however not simply mark his body. As a member of the Krath, symbols were common. The pattern upon his arm would now serve as the mark of power. The mark had no special abilities itself and could nothing alone for anyone uneducated or gifted in the ways of alchemy. For Yue though it was a way to channel the force though and active his the alchemic reactions in his own experiments and studies.

 

The tattoo now marked two gifts that the Dark Lord had gifted him. The favors owed to the head of the Sith were stacking up. Hopefully the Dark Lord will accept his research as a thank you.

 

Once he was allowed to leave he took the chance and returned to his lab. His new assistant was waiting with her catalog of subjects and materials. Taking it from her he saw the attached note of the victim he had left in the chamber near by.

 

"Hm it seemed it died. What a shame, he seemed to have such potential. Oh well, he was an unexpected gift anyways." Reading though the list of materials before him his work load was massive. A good point as any for his studies.

 

"Were breaking old ground a new. Pay close attention and document everything I do." His assistant shuffled her glasses and began to document his first of many experiments here on the maw.

 

Walking to his desk he pulled up the information on the runes of elemental control. The first one was simple fire. It was a fun that mimic of an F but was a S though it. Taking chalk he drew the symbol on the ground. According to the information on the rune it was to be place with in a circle then was to make contact with the Krath who bore the mark of power.

 

"I'm about to make contact and star the process. Necromancy was so less complicated." Placing his right hand on the symbol he poured the force into the rune on the ground with all of the slaves to watch as well as his assistant. The force danced along the mark of power on his arm and glowing green before the it touched the circle turning bright orange. Heat then generated from the circle. Good. The heat then solidified into flame and slowly grew. The flame then expanded 3 ft high and if he was any slower would have engulfed the dark sorcerer before he was able to jump away.

 

A female voice sounded concerned. "Master are you ok?" With an angry hiss and venom in his voice. "Of course I'm not. I nearly fried my ass you twit." With a squeak she turned away from him knowing she had angered him. With a sigh Yue placed his left non singed hand on her chin. "I'm sorry my dear. The fire raised my temper. Lets do this again." A smile formed on her lips as Yue walked to his burnt floor. He needed her to love him. Love was a perfect tool to control her.

 

Restarting the experiment once more. Yue used less of the force to start the reaction. Once the flames were formed he sustained them with a trickle of power. The Fire was a low flame as it had a low amount of the force to maintain it. Slowly he rose his hand from the ground and observed that his hand still glowed as so did the flame. Good. It seemed that as long as he had a connection with the symbol the fire would not die.

 

The first step was done. Creating flame with simply the force was done. Now managing and controlling the fire was the next step. The Sith have been able to make the flame with out the use of symbols and alchemy for as long as sith have been able to channel lighting. Controlling and directing it though for more than just short burst of attacks and manipulating it in different directions though was a work of art only the Krath knew and understood. Yue would conquer the elements of the living just as he did the mind and the dead.

[Tobias Vos]

"Yes, We have much to discuss." Tobias closed the door behind him. It was good that Furion was expecting him. It was less awkward. There were several key points Tobias needed to talk to Furion about. Might as well start off at the beginning. Sped up of course, the Dark Lord had many matters to attend to, and Tobias was just a small gear in the Sith Army.

 

"I will try to be brief... As you may have already noticed, my Force Signature is not dark like everyone else's. I have been undercover with the Jedi- trying to find out where they all went to hide. It was a plot I conceived as my trials into Lordship. Slicer, approved it and sent me on my way. I joined forces with Jedi Knight Adenna, and followed her exploits. We freed slaves on a planet called Thalssia, and she trained me in the art of healing. In the battle, her apprentice was lost, and we gave pursiut and found her on another planet. I put down my foot and we seperated, I went to assist a Sith Apprentice known as Emily. I tried to send her a status report hidden in my lightsaber. She failed to give that report to Slicer... Then I went to Gala to further my mission. Shortly after I arrived- I was attacked by a furious Jedi Master, known as Dahar. I ended up healing myself, and then found myself under the supervision of Master Dahar."

 

Tobias paused. It was a odd story, and he even took some time to reflect on some of it. As always, Adenna's mention fired up his blood.

 

"In my time with Master Dahar, I found he could be turned. He is intrigued by the Dark Side, and could prove to be useful later on. After I fell into the supervision of the Master Jedi, the Sith attack began. Finding myself in the Command Center- I took advantage of Dahar's distraction and uploaded files from the Jedi Servers to my ship- then through my ship to Slicer's ship orbiting the planet. I got what I needed, and caught Dahar's attention. He banished me from the Jedi Temple, believing me to be the cause of the attack. He sent me on my way, I left. Sitting in Orbit, I found where most of the supplies went- Haruun Kal. Then they disappeared for a time, but always came back empty. That is where I was headed when your agent....reacquired myself."

 

"That is my report. I was an agent undercover with the Jedi, I am on the trail of their secret base, Jedi Master Dahar could easily be turned. The Jedi never knew I was still an agent of the Sith, and can be re-inserted if need be."

 

Tobias had his suspicions of where the Jedi Base was. But it wasn't really important now. Everything had changed in the last few months, and they were no longer on the war path- in a sense they were back then. It would be interesting to see Furions reaction to this news. Was Tobias just wasting his time, or would the Dark Lord pour resources into this to find them? He doubted the latter. Tobias was eager to get off the station and to work, whether it was at this assignment, or another. But he would be a Lord soon enough....

[Exodus]

Shadowed in the wake of all the stirs and the restless commotions the Sith tucked into these chambers, Exodus simply watched. His feet steadied his course from the masses and lead him to a lonely corner from where he could conceptualize all that laid before him. He took a moment to draw one of his tattered sleeves upwards and appraise the alchemical ophidian that stretched from his hand, passed his forearm and slithered up around his shoulder. The illustration was set beautifully, and the artistry he manifested from the ink could not be imitated. The ache from the application still drove deep in his senses, and such a burn showed in the way his eyes lit up with lush dreamlike colour.

 

• “So this is what the brotherhood has come too?”

[Darth Furion]

Not a sound was made as Tobias rattled on. No squeaking of a moving chair, no sighs or enticed exasperation. Julio simply sat there, listening, watching, reading the novice Sith before him as exploits were painted in short, concise sentences. As daunting of a task as it may have been for the young Sithling, the way he described it made it seem all too droll. This, and that, and then onto this. Like he was reading off of a list. There were so many colorful things he excluded that would doubtlessly be of more use than the brevity.

 

After a moment of consideration, the Dark Lord rose from his desk and walked around to stand before Tobias, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes lost focus as thoughts fell elsewhere. No, there had to be more to this story. Much, much more. After all, how could he count on this knave to understand what information was vital to share and what wasn't? Sure, this 'Dahar' Jedi might be intrigued by the Dark Side, but to what extent? What drove his curiosity?

 

Without pretext Julio's hands flew free from their clasp to hold Tobias's head like a vice. In the next heartbeat every moment of Tobias's time with the Jedi, from when he began his mission to when he was extracted flashed before his eyes. Every minute detail, every word spoken and their inflections, everything his subconscious devoured while his awareness filed it away as trivial. It was as if reliving the time, yet all at once instantaneously. The process hurt, as far more neurons fired away at the speed of lightning in the dense matter of Tobias' skull. Julio let go and let the apprentice's body slump to the floor, letting himself process what he had just taken from the poor boy.

 

Most interesting. Julio just barely whispered. His eyes were closed, yet the lids fluttering rapidly like he was dreaming. Now he was revisiting the experiences, quickly, though his mind and discipline yielded him much greater aptitude at handling such a barrage of information so he did not suffer as Tobias now did.

 

Still on the floor and groggy, the next thing Tobias' eye focused on were Julio's own golden pair, not six inches from his own. You think that makes you a Lord, boy? Why should I award failure of this caliber? You were there, you had your hands around their throats and what did you do with it? Nothing. You tell me they are sending cargo to Haruun Kal. Great, but what does that do me? We hit them there, and they will just move elsewhere. We can not send spies, certainly not of your skill set, else they would be discovered. We do not have the numbers to do what you suggest, and send you back in? You do not know the first thing about covers do you? Once extracted, there is no going back in. The first step you make through Jedi doors will be toward the interrogation room. You have had greater opportunity than most of my spies, and done less than half than what even the untrained ones can give me.

 

As he rose, he grabbed Tobias by the collar and drug him up as well to stand on his own two feet, crippling migraine be damned. You want to prove you are a Lord, then take the title from another I find to be just as pathetic as you. At this, Julio's temper abated to a sneer. I believe you know him. Lucifer. Defeat him, but do not kill him. Take him down and his Lordship is yours. Fail, and I doubt any master will want to take you on as their apprentice ever again. Understood?

 

((This will be a Lord Trial for both Tobias and Lucifer. I'll be judging the duel, winner gains/keeps the title of Lord. Loser remains/gets knocked down to apprentice and has to revisit some lessons. The format is up to you, 3 or 5 posts, setup or no. Only difference between you two now is Tobias knows the fight is on, while Lucifer actually holds the rank of Lord. Good luck.))

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After much deliberation, the officers made a decision. They weren't going to blow the supposed Sith out of orbit, and scans proved their were no explosives or bio=chemical agents on board, so their only other option was to let him on board.

 

"Alright, Lord Nor....Mi'lord. You may board, but you will be met by two Sith Masters in the hangar. Report to the Dark Lord immediately."

[Raia Montar]

Rose's smile faded,"You really don't get it do you?" The look on her face was just as though she'd eaten something horrible and had somehow managed to swallow it despite herself.

 

Apparently not, Raia thought to herself mirthlessly, as she tried to figure out on her own what it was that she wasn't understanding. Things were so different here from Dathomir. She knew there was much she didn't know, and found that it was likely where much of the constant fear she'd felt since being thrust into Qaela's care. There was something in Rose's tone told her that this was a very specific though and not in her broad scope of ignorance of the outside world.

 

"I can't help you. No one can anymore," the golden-haired girl continued quietly. Raia's brow furrowed further in confusion. She knew that Rose had helped her where no one else had made the attempt, and even though her words weren't spoken with a razor's bite, they cut the Dathomiri all the same.

 

Raia felt another sting of her new reality hit her as Rose pressed on, "You know that mark we received at the coronation? The tattoo that burns in your chest?"

 

The chestnut-haired girl slowly nodded, barely able to catch enough of what the other was saying as she reinforced the recollection by gesturing to where the mark still hurt just beneath the fold of her medical tunic. A cool hand gingerly touched the still-tender skin that bore the mutilation, just beneath the overlapping fold of the medical shirt, confirming for Rose that she understood.

 

"That is the symbol for one in the old Sith tongue. Its my Father's reminder to us all that we are all individuals above all else. The Order, our family and friends, they weigh far less now than our individual selves."

 

Raia didn't understand what "Father" meant, but could surmise enough that it had something to do with the male that had brought her and Qaela to this sterile and artificial place. The male was connected to Rose somehow and she was beginning to suspect that there was something else in that shared connection that went far beyond the Champion framework that she knew.

 

As though reaching her own, but separate, realization, Rose's sorrow became evident, the very words of the reality she had grown up with were finally beginning to cause her pain as she faced the path that she'd chosen earlier that day.

 

"My father..." She began after a moment, but once again the word was lost on Raia who continued to listen quietly. "Didn't want me to become a Sith. Not really, anyway. Though he believes with the entirety of his being that the path of the Sith is the only true way to freedom, he didn't want me to suffer as he has. He wanted to keep me tucked away, safe from the rest of the galaxy and oblivious to the truth. He wanted a life of ignorance for me, so that I may not know the pain of freedom."

 

How is any of this freedom for anyone but him? Raia wondered, and nearly spoke up, but Rose continued, her words growing faster and harder for Raia to fully follow. She did her best to process with what little she knew of this new world and mesh it with all that she had known prior.

 

Where Julio Furion was concerned, things were becoming severely muddled to her limited understanding of her new environment and the interpersonal relations of the other Sith on board. She'd originally thought him to be Rose's champion, and champions were the ones that weren't free. Where she was from, and particularly in her clan, it was quite the contrary. They were bound to their mistresses and carried out their every demand without question, including any made of her daughters as well. The only time that the male was allowed to refuse a request was in the realm of mortal combat concerning his patroness. Furion should have fought in Rose's place.

 

Since it was against the clans laws that the healer should ever knowingly harm another, even in self-defense, they had the strongest champions.That was why her mother's champion had been so hard to convince to teach her about any form of self-defense. It was the champion's role to defend the women of her caste without exception of circumstance. They were the ones that held the healing and life magic which is why they had to remain free from any darkness.

 

Raia continued to think about Rose and Julio. She knew that there was some bond there, something that she couldn't quite wrap her mind around at the moment, but it was apparent to her that it was far different from the mate role that placed a male just above champion in the order of clan males.

 

She was just about to speak up to ask, when Rose continued, providing more insight and information to Raia's inner debate as latter continued to struggle to make sense of everything against this onslaught of new information.

 

Her words were coming more quickly now and the young witch struggled to keep up. "Of course this caused him all sorts of discomfort. You see, I was his only weakness. The daughter he dared to love. On one hand he wanted to keep me safe, yet on the other he wanted to see me thrive, to grow with the truth in hand as a strong soul just as he was. And I could see how much it pained him to keep me. How much effort he spent to protect me. That's why I decided to join the Sith. So I wouldn't be a weakness to him anymore. Well that, and I had been studying far too long to be ignorant anymore."

 

Now Rose had to be the one confused. Daughters made you stronger, not weaker. Did this "Father" thing somehow reverse that? She knew that there was some emotion between the two of them as Rose's victory had been the only one that he'd openly acknowledged. Rose had identified it as love. Love was something felt between a witch and her mate, if both were lucky. From their interactions Raia was almost certain that her use of the word "love" fell in to the witch-mate category. Then there was the pain she mentioned, making the tie to Julio's relationship with her and not the other way around. To Raia, daughters were seen as blessings and celebrated, not seen as burdens or things that caused pain, other than from childbirth and the occasional teenage head-butting.

 

Again she shook away her bewilderment as Rose went on to explain further, as the blond fiddled with the sheets of Raia's bed. "You see...being a Sith isn't really about being powerful or strong or about doing whatever you want whenever you want. That's what a lot of people sign up for, but that is really only the base of the mountain. Its higher than that. Its about discovering yourself, growing beyond where you stand now into a person greater than before. I was tired of just being 'Julio's daughter', a weak little girl that had to hide behind daddy's coat when the cops came knocking. I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to be unsure. I don't want to be weak. I want to stand on my own two feet, in front of anyone in this galaxy and say 'My name is Rose Furion and you will not stand in my way."

 

She stood up, a small glimmer of light in her wetting eyes. "I wish I could help you Raia. Really, I do. But everything from here on out will be catering to our growth and self discovery. Anything I do to help you will only make me stronger and you weaker. The best way for me to help would be to let you do it on your own."

 

Rose spoke of standing on her own, and now that she'd cheated her fate, Raia found she wanted to do much the same. That didn't mean that she didn't share empathy for the girl's struggles. Again, Raia swore she could feel the pain that these admissions were causing the younger girl, and reached out, instinctively to try to reassure her.

 

As she caught Rose's wrist, she suddenly felt herself falling, though the action wasn't outwardly physical. For a moment she was disoriented, but she knew that she was in her own body, even though it felt as though she were experiencing being there from a million miles away. As her eyes focused, and the scene came before her, she felt as though someone else was controlling her actions.

 

"The baby's coming! Push! Come on push!" she heard her own voice cry out through the ether before she was ripped forward to the present.

 

A split-second after her hand gripped Rose's slim wrist she released it, blinking for a few moments, as the girl remarked, "But I want to be friends. As much so as any two Sith can be. If you want, that is?"

 

Raia wasn't sure if there'd been any visible hesitation on her part, but she slowly nodded. "Not true friends then, but allies as long as it suits us? If that is the best I can hope for, then I will take it, Rose Furion."

 

She hoped that she was beginning to get it, because she had the feeling that the longer she continued to make mistakes, the quicker she was going to end up dead or worse. It didn't help that the massive amount of information was still trying to process its way through her restless mind.

[Tobias Vos]

Pain- It fed Tobias as he was badgered from Furion. He was so masochistic.

 

"I know I did not finish my task, you interrupted it. I don't deserve Lord title from that, but as you lay down this new task...It will be done." Tobias stood firm. He was to face Lucifer once again. He had fought him once before, and won. Now was not the time to get cocky. Both of them had come far in their time apart.

 

He would need to acquire his saber from Emily, then he would find Lucifer. Stretching out he found where the Force Signatures were- he found them. All of this happening in a moment, he spun on his heal and left Furion. The hallways were dark- at least to Tobias they were. The boy was focused. He would not kill. A line that he would have to repeat back over and over again. He gripped the other lightsabers he had acquired earlier, making sure they were secure on his belt. Rage, he needed to build rage, it wasn't enough to have just been screwed over by Slicer, but the former Dark Lord Haph. Whom was nowhere to be found..

 

The Force flowed through the apprentice. Sure he could have done better- but he was thrown into a position where he was severely out gunned, both physically and with the Force. He was always at a disadvantage. Then there it was, he would always have to be in the shadows. Was he to be an assassin his whole Sith career? No, he would evolve. He would be as great as these other Sith, there was the determination. Tobias clenched his teeth and grabbed new ear bud from his bunk. His theme music even helped him out to fuel the fire. Searching through his things, he found what he needed- a lock of Adenna's hair. Holding it up to his nose, he inhaled. Her scent was still there. Closing his eyes he let the combination of things collect. Fury burned his veins, he was ready to fight, as soon as his lightsaber was reacquired.

 

Sooba followed him out the door, Furion said nothing about keeping it a fair fight. The game plan had already been formed on what he was going do, with the proper contingent plans.

 

Tobias walked towards Emily, where he didn't even stop to question her as to why she never gave Slicer his saber. Tobias clenched his old lightsaber, flushing out the message, and reinserting the internals. The Taozin-hide saber felt natural in his hand. Tobias was once again complete. Sooba- Taozin- Kinitie. Lucifer was in trouble.

 

Controlling his rage as to not alert any other Sith who wasn't scanning the station. But this was their home base, they would have their guard lowered, not really searching for anything. He would release it just as soon as he saw Lucy. Tobias was headed on a straight line towards the fellow Kiffar, while his beast was circling around. The mind weld was going to just cover orders and thoughts, not pain. Not this time. No emotions or anything like that. Wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

 

The whole adventure of finding Lucifer took only a few minutes, it seemed like seconds.

, he acquired a stool, and at the last minute- he let his rage go. Raising the stool above his head he spoke calmly: "Can I join in?" Tobias said from behind Lucifer- then with a firm standing he brought the stainless steel stool across Lucifer's head.

 

"Round Two Lucifer!" Tobias shouted, his eyes wide with excitement and rage. Tobias felt so ALIVE! It was such an intense feeling. Rage and determination rocked his world. He just had one rule- Don't kill Lucifer. It would be hard to manage that. But he would control himself as best he could.

 

It was on- the fight was going to be intense, and he had taken Lucy by surprise. And Lucy would be thinking that Furion would stop it, and that Tobias was in the wrong- once again. But no, Tobias was going to win, again. He ignited his saber and was on Lucifer once again.

 

((1))

((No Setup- time to sink my teeth in.))

((Five or three, it doesn't matter. Your call Lucifer.)

[Raia Montar]

She continued to stare at the medical bay door, long after Rose had passed through the barrier into the station beyond. The sounds of the medical machines droned on in their constant and rhythmic monitoring of her body's vital systems, only serving to help her withdraw back within herself where she could begin to more fully process what Rose's admissions had meant. Each note and ping seemed to fade and become more distant as they melded together to become something of a soothing background noise.

 

The girl laid back on the medical bed, attempting to find some sort of rest rather than try to think about what she'd just been through and what more lie in store for her. Rest would not come, however, as her mind was too stirred to grant any kind of respite having seen, heard and done too much over the last several hours to not have a cacophony of thoughts tumbling about, over, and through one another in it's attempt to be heard.

 

She groaned in annoyance, rolling over and staring at the stark ceiling, sighing heavily and inhaling the sharp sterile austereness of the place. It irritated her nose making her head spin all over again. They brought her food, but all she managed to eat was some bread and broth, her own thoughts were growing more and more distracting, but she still felt to overwhelmed to examine them. For the moment she concentrated on keeping her food down.

 

Nearly an hour had passed since the younger girl had left, and Raia was grateful when the medical tech disconnected the machines from her, claiming that they'd gotten enough data for now, but stuck a smaller monitor against the skin of her neck "as a precaution".

 

The witch cringed again at the artificial intrusion to her body, her expression one of great distaste as reached up to remove it, only to have her hand swatted away as the acolyte continued her adjustments, remarking, "You're staying here just so we can make sure you don't have any other surprise issues. Your kinswomen were certainly full of them."

 

"They are not my kinswomen. I am a Witch! Not a Nightsister!" the tired teen retorted heatedly, reaching again to remove it. Why she'd chosen to cling to this distinction when it would have probably been better to keep that fact to herself was beyond her at the moment, but she wasn't about to back down. Familiarity made sense to her, and even the Nightsisters were still too different from her own clan to lend her much frame of reference.

 

"Touch it and I sedate you again, and I know you wouldn't want that," the nurse warned sternly as she gripped the girl's wrist tightly. The elder woman had not the time nor the patience to deal with an impertinent young witchling from a beyond-backwater planet. Raia didn't attempt to remove the device again, though it still felt uncomfortably foreign against her skin.

 

Left alone once more, for the moment at least, she finally was able to settle down enough, or was at least worn out enough, to finally surrender to the dancing thoughts in her mind.

 

The image flash she'd gotten when she touched Rose churned over and over through her mind's eye. As a healing student, she'd shown exceptional skill in many of her lessons, but none so much as midwifery. She'd even delivered a few babies before she'd left her clan for the woods, but even those had been routine deliveries under the watchful eye of a senior midwife. What does it mean? Does it even mean anything at all? Am I that homesick that I'm trying to picture myself back there?

 

She knew she couldn't return home, and her stomach lurched again as she remembered what she had done that had landed her in the medical bay in the first place. She'd killed a person. It didn't matter that he was a male slave or that he'd been trying to kill her as well. Gone was any chance of her returning to her home, but would it really be so bad to join the Sith or Nightsisters? Could she stomach the brutality she'd seen; brutality that was only sure to escalate if Qaela's promises were accurate?

 

She shifted again, becoming more restless now as Rose's soft voice echoed back through her thoughts. ..being a Sith isn't really about being powerful or strong or about doing whatever you want whenever you want. That's what a lot of people sign up for, but that is really only the base of the mountain. Its higher than that. Its about discovering yourself, growing beyond where you stand now into a person greater than before...

 

That's what she wanted. That's what she now knew she had to choose as the path before her. Her break-away from her clan hadn't been pure rebellion or even self-destruction. It was borne of this same desire to be greater than what she'd been born to be. Was she finally now being given that option?

 

A frown crossed her face as she mulled over that thought for a bit longer. If there was one thing Raia had come to learn, it was that Julio Furion demanded nothing short of unwaivering obedience, servitude. He'd even gone so far as to brand those he deemed as his followers, including the one who identified herself as his daughter.

 

The thought of having traded one taskmaster for another galled her, but she realized that her choices were few. As she took a moment to be completely honest with herself, she knew that she feared this place and it's master. Qaela's warnings and own cautionary tale did little to dissuade the growing dread within the young teenager.

 

The more she thought about it, the more frightened she grew of the precarious situation in which she now found herself. There was danger whether she went with Qaela or stood with Rose behind her champion. She wasn't even sure what to call Furion anymore or how he even related to Rose other than the love that she'd mentioned.

 

She was just as strange in her own way, though the younger girl seemed to at least understand a little of what Raia was trying to comprehend as everything was thrown at her. Rose had chosen to stand up and not let her own fear keep her in Furion's shadow. She'd embraced her own choice and had taken her own path.

 

Most of all, Raia's own curiosity burned brightly, despite the fear that now gripped her. Finally she was finding her own resolve to move forward. Had she killed a man only to give into the fear now? Which was worse - a life of fear, or a life of servitude at the hands of a male? Raia wasn't sure, but she knew she had to get more information if she were going to better decide whether or not she wanted to have anything to do with the Sith and their leader at all.

 

Finding the force of will to push her own fear aside, she waited until just after they'd come to check on her before carefully sneaking out of the medical bay and down the corridor to the lift she and Rose had exited.

 

The doors closed behind her, but the lift didn't move. "B-ballroom," she cried, trying remember how Rose had made the lift go during the first trip. Her voice wavered slightly as she issued the command because she'd started to tremble again, second-guessing whether or not this was the right course of action. The man that had visited the Nightsisters was the one calling the shots on this station, and even if she were to request transit back to Dathomir, she had no where that she could go and nowhere she could turn. She had to see him, no matter how much she wanted to run in the other direction.

 

Her guess was rewarded when the lift sprang to life a split-second later and she was hurtling towards what she hoped was the right destination.

 

Several seconds later, the lift glided to a halt, and the only indication that Raia had that she was in a different part of the station was that the doors had opened. Thankfully the hallway was familiar as she followed it's route back towards the scene of her own loss of innocence.

 

Blood still stained the floor, as the cleaning crews hadn't come in to finish cleaning the gore and fluids from the floor just yet. There were bodies that still littered the floor and Raia could swear she felt the glassy gaze of the Brute on her as she strode across the room, keeping close to the wall, giving the still gooey mess a wide berth.

 

Luckily one of the other Sith provided ample distraction for her as he crashed a metal stool over the head of the one the one that had spoken to her earlier. As his action drew the remaining Siths' attention, the quick witch used that opprotunity to slip past the others and into the same hallway she'd seen Furion, Qaela and the gold-toned man dissappear down earlier that evening. She had no way of knowing if the Dark Lord was still there, but it would at least give her a place to start looking.

 

Just behind the throne, she found herself blocked by the same wall that she'd seen slide aside to admit Qaela earlier. She raised her hand to it, about to begin to see if she could decipher how it had worked, when it suddenly vanished into the bulkhead. She was expected then. Mustering the courage to go forward she swallowed and stepped past the opening as the wall snapped shut behind her. She moved cautiously down the hallway, having no where else to go in the darkness but towards the tiny sliver of light at the end of the corridor. It was almost as though he knew she wanted to run and he was denying her that chance.

 

The large wooden door was slightly a jar, as though whoever had passed through it last had done so with great haste and little regard for what Raia would have considered manners by not shutting the door completely. Fighting away her anxiety, she slowly pushed the ornate heavy door and crept into the room, somewhat relieved to see something not made of metal for once. What lay beyond both secretly delighted her, yet confused her as she'd never seen anything like it before in her short life.

 

For a moment she couldn't keep herself from taking in the surroundings, she'd never seen such large quantities of books before. The Dathomiri were primarily an oral-based society whose knowledge was passed from mother to daughter, the only exception being the copy of the book of Allya that the elder kept with her. Raia never knew that so many could exist in one place. Curiosity made her forget to fear the man who was behind the desk for a moment as she slowly moved about the stacks. "What are they?" she asked quietly, suddenly remembering where she was as she forced herself to meet his golden gaze.

[Emily]

The party, if that was what it was, had never really gotten going. Most of the Sith were mingling, but many had just left and headed out on their own business. Pity, Emily thought. I'd have thought the Sith at least would know how to throw a party.

 

She was about to head out herself when a man she recognized approached her and brusquely demanded she return his lightsaber. She was puzzled for a moment, not recognizing him, when suddenly memory clicked. He was the strange man who had tried to help her escape on Tatooine, whose price was that she deliver his lightsaber to Slicer. He seemed angry that she hadn't done as she had said she would, but he didn't let her explain that she hadn't seen Slicer once since they last met. Instead, he grabbed it from her, fiddled with it, and challenged Lucifer to a duel.

 

She arched an eyebrow and turned away. Glancing around, she caught Nishant's eye, but didn't move over to him. Instead, she headed out the door, her dress sweeping behind her and her heels clacking on the stone floor.

 

Once out of the ballroom, her mood changed, become darker and more serious. She headed to her quarters and changed out of her dress, wiping off her make up and putting on a simple outfit of black that she wore for training. The Force was whispering, beckoning, demanding, and she wouldn't ignore it any longer. Barefoot, she padded through the station, heading into the bowels of the station where the atmosphere was brooding and the architecture rough. There she found an unused forge. It was time to make her lightsaber.