Korriban

[Qaela]

Why do they claim to be good if they kill so many people? asked Telperiën. It was a good question, one that did deserve an answer.

 

"The Jedi claim it is not how many people die, but why they died. They believe that if one kills in the name of vengeance and self empowerment, they are evil and it is a wrong kill. If they kill, even by accident, in the name of 'justice' and 'peace' then it is okay. Hypocritical, yes, but it is what they need to sleep at night. They do not understand that nature is full of death. All things, great and small, must survive on death. Carnivores kill and eat the flesh of herbivores. Herbivores kill and eat the leaves and fruit of plants. Even plants eat the bodies of animals and the decay of other plants. The largest creatures down to the smallest microbes thrive on something else that has died even if they did not actually kill it. The Jedi fail to understand that killing isn't evil, nor are the motivations. There are times that killing is necessary regardless of motivation, but also times when it is pointless and overkill, also regardless of motivation. The only difficulty is knowing where excess has created an imbalance in nature."

 

She detected a familiar presence on Korriban and, knowing she was in no shape to fight while protecting her daughter, directed the two of them to lay low for a time. It was best to avoid conflict when victory wasn't assured and it also gave the two of them time to recover fully. The Sith servants and acolytes here, recognizing her power if nothing else, left the two of them alone and provided food and a place to stay. She and Telperiën browsed the libraries of the Sith, learning both the history and lore of the Order and, for Qaela, some of their knowledge of the Force. The materials they had access to were not extremely advanced, but they were still useful.

 

When the two of them were ready, Qaela decided that it was time to move forward. In her studies, she had heard of some some references to a planetoid seeped in the Darkness and recently opened to a select small group of Sith by the Dark Lord Exodus. It intrigued her enough that she wanted to take a pilgrimage there and see if it would give her insight on what motivated this Dark Lord. From what she had seen, he was more focused on order and unity rather than simple excessive destruction and infighting. That was a good sign in her opinion, but she wanted to know more of his vision of the Sith. She knew the Darkness, but the Sith had always been somewhat of a mystery to her.

 

It took a little doing, but she finally managed to find a way to send a message to the Dark Lord. "Lord Exodus," she said with a slight bow of her head, "I am Qaela formerly of the Dathomiri Clan Darksong. I have been the guest of two Dark Lords and fought along both the Sith and Black Sun against the Jedi and Faust and am an ally of Vigo Delta. I regret missing you when I arrived on Korriban, but was otherwise disposed dealing with the fallout of dark side magick upon my daughter. I have learned some of the Sith and of your vision of the Order while here and wish to know more so that I may at last be able to formally join the Sith and be a simple guest no more. Word has reached me of a planetoid that is seeped in the Dark Side with magnificent monuments to the Sith. I wish your permission to make pilgrimage to this planet so that my daughter and I can truly come to know what it is to be Sith. If this is not your will, then direct me where you feel is best. I shall wait here for your answer at your convenience."

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Telperiën shrugged aggressively, like a crouching corpanther before springing onto a back of a straying bantha. She set down her plate on the ground and together they retreated back into the sancuary of the monument room. She analysed a large statue of her biological father and she looked to her mother. “I guess as long as they can justify it with their con-consc-” She scrunched her face up, trying to remeber what Ca’Aran had told her to follow those few days before. “Conscience. That’s it. Ca’Aran said to never forget to listen to it. Though I think he neglected to tell me more about it or to say that you could justify genocide with it.” She giggled lightly and sat down on the foot of the statue . With a huff of expelled air from her lungs, she extended a hand to the training racks and a black pommel flew to her hand. It was a lightsaber, real enough as the Sith did not use training sabers, and these racks of real sabers were placed all over the place to assist in split second duels and honour killings that were so popular in the old Sith Order.

 

She waggled her eyebrows at her mother when she was done typing out her message to the dark lord and extended her hand, mimicking any number of fighters from holodramas and beckoned her mother to come at her.

 

Hold it like you would a dagger sweet thing.

This is a Shoto blade and only as long as your arm.

Go for her slender neck.

 

She thumbed the activation switch and the pale red blade extended like a Kawazoolian Lizard’s tongue. She held the saber in a reverse grip and jumped at her mother, swinging the blade in front of her like she had so many times before on Dathomir to decapitate lizards or weak nerfs. She was confident her mother would teach her the art of saber dueling.

[Qaela]

The corners of Qaela's mouth rose slightly as her daughter drew the shortened lightsaber. For one as small as her, the weapon looked nearly full sized which would help make the weapon less awkward. Instead of relying on the brute strength and stopping power of the heavy armor she arrived on Korriban with, she elected to put the flexibility the light Krath leather she now wore to practice. She jumped into the air and did a backflip to give her several meters of space. When she landed, she fell into a crouch, ready to spring up in any direction.

 

Instead of pulling out her own lightsaber, she choose a different tact. She used a quick spell to drastically increase her heartbeat and the amount of oxygen absorbed into her bloodstream from her lungs. This, along with an adrenaline spike, allowed her to move quicker. She did pull her wooden knife off her belt and put it into a reverse grip. The 20cm long single sided blade covered most of her forearm. Her lips subconsciously moved as she uttered a silent spell using both her Nightsister heritage and Sith training to create a sort of passive field around her in the Force.

 

As her daughter came at her, she spent a minute or two evading various lightsaber strikes that showed great promise, but also lack of experience and physical strength. What blows she couldn't outright dodge found purchase in the field around her and were deflected by the Force just enough to glance off and away from her body. She didn't yet bring her knife into play, but it was ready as a failsafe should something go wrong: there was no point in either of them being harmed in something as simple as training.

 

As she bobbed and weaved and twisted and evaded, she spoke, "Often, the Sith and our Clan value only brute strength. They want to meet force with outright force. That is good if you have the strength to do so, but for those of us who are smaller and more nimble, a good tactic is to simply not be where the attack is and to wear down our opponent until the time is right to deal a final blow. You are not yet capable of meeting force with force, so you must learn how to avoid being hit until that opportunity comes.

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Telperiën grinned widely, showing a gap in her white teeth where a week before a deciduous incisor had fallen out, the gum was red below the gap, showing where a permanent tooth was starting to erupt through the surface. In the weeks since her near death, Telperiën had lost a great many of her deciduous teeth, and the replacements were coming in much more rapidly than in a normal 7 year old girl.

 

With a nod towards her mother’s instruction, Telperiën brought the short red blade to reflect again off the force shield her mother had formed with a spell. Telperiën loved seeing her mother in action, it really showed the profound weakness Clan Darksong and other nightsisters lived in. With a little additional training from the Sith, they could conquer the galaxy.

Could have more like

Since they paid for their ignorance of the galaxy with their miserable lives

Now child, let her come to you

Telperiën jumped back away from her mother and drew upon the river of the force that flowed around the two of them. Her graceful leap guided by the whispers of the spirits around her. She landed on the crook of a statue's arm and then rebounded back into the fight. She rolled away from her mother as soon as she landed, counting on the warning of danger that echoed in her head. It was ignorance that had killed all of her old friends and enemies on the nightsister homeworld. She laughed a hollow and rasping laugh before her cold voice echoed in her mother’s ears.

 

Attack me so that I can learn to dodge your blows

 

Bring the force into your muscles, strengthen them

Fill them with its power

She drew on the force like she had been taught but the power fled from her like a rancor pup from its master.

 

Use that hate, use them

 

She thought of her brothers and the fire began to burn brightly in her chest, then suddenly, the force was there. Bending and yielding to her like grass before a storm. Her eyes blinked from purple to yellow, and that burning anger filled her throat. She coughed loudly and looked back at her mother.

 

Is that right momma? Use the hate like they are saying?

 

She coughed again, a bit of black blood spattering her lips.

[Qaela]

Qaela, being open to the Force as she was, knew something else was going on. Her daughter was fighting with far more vigor and strength that a 7 year old should. Part of her was quite pleased to see the strength in the girl, but there was a good part that was alarmed at it.

 

When Telperien asked her to go on the offensive, she obliged. She went into several attacks with slashes from her wooden knife and kicks from her feet. Though not as effective as a lightsaber, it was more than sufficient for the task on hand of training the younger girl to avoid attacks. She was proud to see her daughter react well: she was demonstrating some very good instincts and reflexes. Those skills, though, were growing to be worrying in and of themselves.

 

For a moment, Telperien stepped back and Qaela could sense something new from her. There was something directing her anger to spike to dangerous levels. Qaela was alarmed when her daughter asked about the hate and that alarm compounded with the changing of the girl's eyes. She knew that look all too well from her days of uncontrolled fury and rage.

 

Pulling back from the engagement, Qaela drew upon the Force and answered in an abnormally firm voice, "There are times to use hatred like you are, but this is not that time. Calm yourself and I will explain further." There was no room for argument in her tone, but Qaela knew that when enveloped in the rage and bloodlust like the girl was, sometimes the brain didn't quite react as it normally should. She remained ready, no longer in simple training mode, to unleash a good deal of power if the girl wasn't able to regain control.

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Hate brings you

Desires which bring you

Domination

The witch is right, you are too weak for this now

The cruel voice whispered in her ears that wretched word. Weakness. She hated that word, it had been hurled like a weapon at her and her brothers at every turn on dathomir. She had taken their beatings for them, volunteering in their stead to protect them whenever they failed a task. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the saber handle as the memories of those beatings flooded her brain. They had been weak, she had protected them….and they died anyway. Those horrible people had killed them for no reason at all. She hated them.

 

She growled deep in her throat and she backed herself away from her mother, wiping her mouth with her spare hand and was startled to see how much warm blood had come away on her hand. She coughed again and shook her head, letting little droplets of blood curl their way down the corners of her mouth.

 

Momma im trying but they killed them

 

Stop this nonesense

Get ahold of yourself

 

They killed them for no reason!

 

She tossed the lightsaber into one of the statues where it crackled and deactivated after severing the stone foot of Ajunta Pall. Telperiën stood slowly from where she had landed from her rebound, her back ramrod straight, her fingers curled into fists, forced to her sides. Very much like how she had stood when the whip was lashed across her back, the twins watching and crying from the tent. Her lips did not move but her voice sobbed in the back of her mother’s head wretched and rasping against emotions.

 

And I could do nothing to stop it

 

She blinked and her purple eyes met her mother’s. The iris's flaked with the yellow of her father's.

I’m sorry I couldn’t mama.

[Qaela]

Qaela did feel sympathy for what she was feeling from her daughter, but she couldn't show it just yet. The Nightsisters were hard, as were the Sith. To show too much weakness or sympathy would mean a vulnerability that the girl simply had to learn to control and conceal. It didn't mean she couldn't feel the pain and sorrow, just that she had to be very careful how much she showed of it.

 

"They did kill your brothers for a reason: jealousy and envy," she said coldly. "They killed them because they knew I was more powerful than they and they wanted to hurt me. They died for that action and your brothers are thus avenged."

 

Her voice softened, but wasn't quite warm enough to melt butter. "You were not responsible to stop them, that was my task. There were simply too many of them to stop them entirely, so I saved the one I could: you. Nobody is invincible, not even the most powerful individual, so I was not capable of protecting you as I should. This is my failure, not yours. That is why we need a clan or tribe. A tribe must all watch each other's backs, fill in with our strength when others are weak even as they do the same for us. The Nightsisters did that, normally, though when faced with a power they couldn't compete against, they choose to destroy it and all of us along with it." It did not escape her notice that something was continuing to influence her daughter. She wasn't going to do anything about it just yet until she could determine whether these voices were a benefit or danger. The other Sith might not take too kindly to any remnant of a formal rival being present, not after how they reacted the last time. She wasn't going to let them decide that the only way to permanently be rid of Lord Ar-Pharazon would be to kill his offspring.

 

She approached Telperion and knelt before her. "You can possess that power, but you must first learn to control it. The Dark Side is very seductive and offers a very quick ascent to power and glory, but if you let it control you, it will consume and destroy you. As much as it may seem difficult and holding you back, you must learn to use the Dark Side at a pace that allows you to control yourself and it rather than being overwhelmed by it.

 

"I was foolish and did not have anyone to teach me that. I allowed my hatred and rage to consume me and it brought nothing but pain and hurt. I even struck down your father in blind rage shortly after killing my cursed mother. It is good that you have the capacity to summon that rage, but you must not do so yet until you are able to control it, no matter what you may be wanting to do or how badly you think you need the power."

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

You were not my first choice

But you are my legacy

 

Telperiën relaxed her shoulders first, slowing her breathing like she had been taught while bow hunting. Slowing her breathing brought her racing heart slowly, beat by beat back into a steady rhythm. Her breathing lost its jagged edge and she breathed in deeply through her nose and exhaled in sharp bursts from her mouth. Her eyes slowly lost their pale yellow sheen and the trembling in her arms and legs slowly stopped. She relaxed her hold on the force, letting its bile slide back down her throat, leaving a burning in her esophagus and lungs that would not go away easily.

 

Pace yourself for you are young

You have the time that I did not

 

The voice sounded sad, lonely in its ether, the despairing thought of a spirit trapped by the force, watching its legacy slowly slip away. Telperiën knew that unless she did something grand with her life eventually the name of Ar-Pharazon the Golden would slowly disappear. Only muttered by dusty old scholars and with little reverence that it was owed. Even the mighty Lord Ar-Pharazon could not without help, stand up to the crush of time.

 

Control your hatred

For like a fire

It was the soft voice of Geki, gone was the peeling laughter of insanity. Gone was Gantoris, gone was power, gone was life.

 

A slow burn is all the more thorough in its destruction

Plodding ever onwards in the face of detraction

I will.

 

She pulled herself out of her revery and focused back on her mother. With another wipe of her sleeve, the black blood was gone from her chin and she looked like a normal, if tired young girl.

 

I will control it mama, I wont let it eat me

 

She threw her arms around her mother’s torso in a childs embrace. For the moment silencing the disembodied voices of the Sith that haunted this place.

[Qaela]

Qaela smiled down at her daughter. It was a good sentiment, but she knew it would take dedication and extreme drive to accomplish. It was something, alas, she knew would also likely be accompanied by failure and great heartache for some lessons could only be learned through suffering and the experience of loss. "We will see, it is the most difficult lesson to learn, but learn it you must."

 

There were other things she needed to do for, to teach, and to show her daughter. "Come," she said. "It is time we get you into some appropriate clothing." The old robes and clothes Telperiën wore did not suit one with her unique and devastating potential or heritage. It was high time she be clothed in something that was worthy of her status.

 

The two were able to quickly find one of the many servants that maintained the temples and were directed to a hall that was only three meters wide but that spanned for near fifty in length. On either side of the long hall were mannequins displaying clothes and armor of many different varieties, qualities, and styles. Black was, obviously, the predominant color, but many also came in other colors with those options listed clearly below. "My daughter, long have you lived in primitive squalor," said Qaela with a waving gesture of her hand toward the hall. "Now, you shall have the choice of the finest clothes or armor. There are many decisions that will be made for you, but this is not to be one. Select what you wish and how you wish it and I will ensure that it is made to fit your size. Don't simply pick the flashiest thing, but pick something that suits you, that calls to you. Heavy armor is good for one type of combat, loose clothing for another. You can get into places with plain clothes denied to those with rich ones, and of course, the opposite. Take your time and select a few of these outfits for we may not always get the opportunity to make such choices and accept the benefices of the Sith's resources.

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Telperiën shrugged, perfectly satisfied with the tattered old robes and leather she wore from Dathomir, but followed her mother into the great hallway of uniforms and was quite impressed. The various plastoids fascinated her, though they were light and sturdy she thought that like the bulky Mandalorian armours she saw Ca’Aran wear, they would get in the way of her movements. She picked up a light camo chest piece of plastoid and weighed it with her hand. It was made for a boy of nine according to the description but it would easily fit her slender form. She chose a brown two piece set of close fitting elastic like armorweave. Allowing for maximum flexibility. Over the brown armorweave she selected a ironfibre kamain the same dark camo of the chestpiece and finished it all off with a set of simple leather boots.

 

She shrugged out of her robes and assembled the uniform, and with the help of her mother, put it on. She slipped on the armorweave gloves and the utility belt, flexing with a high kick to a mannequin’s face, she grinned up to her mother. She gestured to the light chestpiece and kama,

 

This reminds me of Ca’Aran and the rest of you

 

She pointed to her temple

 

Though they say I should pick something of gold

[Dordjooba the Hutt]

Keenava wasn’t sure of what to think or what to do anymore. When she sat there, transmitting the message to Dordjooba through the Edge’s comms, her thoughts abandoned her, running back to what she said to Dri and then what Rumo told her. Did she really want to be a Sith? Was there really no turning back? Had she exhausted all other forms of trying beyond the obvious?

 

As the Twi’lek despaired, she surrendered her hold on Driclea and left the Dark Edge where it had been before they left. She fled the Praxeum and began to wander the wastes of Korriban, thinking to herself and re-examining her entire life. It would be a long slog, but perhaps she would find a deeper meaning in the obscure torrent of red sand that surrounded her. Or, more likely, she’d go insane and lose herself in the darkness of Korriban’s unforgiving environment.

 

_____________________________

 

 

Kaldena and Vlahjik arrived in Dordjooba’s Yacht, Dornja Kajin, over Korriban. The Zeltron asked for clearance to land based on summons from the Dark Lord, before settling in and watching as the stars rolled by. She sighed to the quiet of the cockpit and let her jet black hair drape itself over the back of her seat. She fiddled with a button without actually pushing it and rubbed her other hand across her scalp.

 

Vlahjik grunted and shuffled from the plush seats a few rooms down. Kaldena had no idea what he was whining about. It was a yacht. It was meant to be enjoyed. And, ironically enough, no one ever seemed to enjoy their time on it.

 

Sometimes, Kaldena felt, people of this galaxy felt way too uptight. People needed to learn to live more so they could enjoy a dynamic range of different experiences.

Vlahjik grunted again. Kaldena’s thoughts broke and she looked back at the Trandoshan, struggling to extricate himself from the railing because his large horns got caught.

 

Kaldena stifled a laugh and rose to help him before he made things even worse…

[Qaela]

Qaela smiled approvingly at her daughter's selection. "There is no need to stay under your sire's umbrella. Forge your own name and surpass his fame."

 

She made some quicker selections of various articles of clothing for the two of them and commanded they be readied for them and delivered to the quarters they were staying at. A quick scan of the two of them got all the measurements required for tailoring the various garments. She wanted a wide variety of clothes for various purposes ranging from infiltrating high society to blending into the scums of the Galaxy.

 

"Come," she said when she was finished making the orders, "it is time for us to begin your education and training."

 

The two of them went to a small grotto dedicated to the great Sith Emperor Vitiate who led the Sith for a thousand years. Qaela had read some of his life and what he had attempted to do. It had initially fascinated her and created a sense of awe that someone could rule for so long, but when she began to realize just how this was accomplished and how it ended, her awe had turned to disgust. "Look at this man," she said. "He was born mortal just like any of us, but through the use of perverse manipulation and treachery, he drained the life out of an entire planet to make himself immortal. The Sith laud such powers, but it is truly a devastating perversion of nature. All things are meant to die as part of nature's cycle. While I applaud his desire to grow more powerful, he went against nature and took a path that could have led to the destruction of everything.

 

"Faust wasn't the first to try to wipe out the entire Galaxy to make himself greater. Vitiate did the same: he spent his entire life building a way to make himself a god. Instead of building an empire that would truly last and be great, he built something designed solely for his own selfish goals. Had he achieved his goals, the Galaxy would have been consumed by him and his greed. Here is a man who decided to unbalance nature and in the end, became consumed with his own delusions. He steered his people to ruin and waste leaving the Sith desolate and with little to truly show for it.

 

"You may one day feel the urge to ignore the balance of nature and instead gobble up all that you can without concern for the consequences. You may even be in a position to actually take action on those urges as Vitiate and Faust did. You might feel that the utter destruction of an entire planet is a small price to pay for your own power. If you do, remember: once you start to consume, it is hard to stop. If you do somehow manage to succeed, you will leave behind not a legacy of great strength and accomplished building that inspires others to follow your path, but a legacy of waste and destruction that inspires only hatred and loathing.

 

"The anger you felt and unleashed earlier was a very small taste of the greater power you can have access to. Know this: if you choose to tap into it, you must make sure you control it and not let it control you. If you do not or if you ignore my warnings, the Darkness will consume you and could lead you to do terrible things that will only gather everyone against you."

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

As they walked, Telperiën looked at the plaques of the great men and women of the Sith, some she recognized, most she didn’t. Their deeds already fallen into obscurity or eclipsed by the passage of time in a galaxy rife with destruction and conflict. With every new breed of Sith came a different tragedy on the galaxy, the destruction of Cloud city and Theed, or the holocausts of the great bug invasion. It seemed very hard to keep up a legacy in the face of such things. Perhas moving through the shadows like her mother was the best option…

 

No it isnt

 

She rolled her eyes and looked up at her mother, she took her hand and pulled her to a stop.

 

Am I a perversion of nature mama?

 

She pointed to the center statue, a statue of the great wyrm, Sheog.

 

Is that what he does? Devour everything? I will control it, I will try at least.

 

She laughed, a deep and ugly laugh, she shook her head to chide herself. The warrior braids bouncing off her shoulders.

No I will control it.

[Neive Undant]

As Neive exited the trade ship that he had bought his fare to ride on, he held his head low, walking stiffly as he walked towards the sith temple. The second he stepped off the ship, it took off, the pilot fearing being on the planet that was so consumed with the dark side of the force. Neive, however, only continued his slow tread towards the entrance to the temple he had not seen for so long. There was something about it different, he thought. Something... reformed. Had the spirits of the sith somehow begin a reconstruction period for the building? No matter, he thought. Once he told them of his failure to find the sith, surely they would be more than displeased. And as was Neive.

He had looked everywhere practically. From Tattoine to Dagobah, to coruscant and hapes, to about everywhere else in the galaxy. It went without saying that he had failed to find any connection to the sith, and that he would not be able to take on the death watch... unless he did complete his objective, and find a sith who would train him.

[AVATAR Kain]

Kain's ship pulled out of hyperspace like a bullied white kid pulling a firearm from a backpack, and immediately he set to work. Contacting all manner of construction contractors, work began to build a large ship, an Interdictor-class Star Destroyer, as repayment for the Gems allowing the Sith to use Nar Shaddaa as a base of financial operations. It was likely the only ship they would get from the Sith, but they had chosen well when the request was initially made. The credits would flow. The Sith would have chaos to point a finger at, and the galactic governments would be that much more destabilized. All according to the plan. Execute.

[Exodus]

The fierce approach of the Sith Stalker Lockjaw was a march that no wise person would dare get in the way of, and as he tread down the steps of the temple, he barged into an unfamiliar individual (Neive Undant). "You are not cleared for this area, peasant. What business do you have here?" Three brutish blades were mounted onto a metallic forearm brace, each extending dangerously over his coiled fist. His helmet was gruesome depiction of a slack-eyed force ghoul, ready to feast between metal teeth.

[Exodus]

Construction on a Golan III Space Defense Platform began to sift through their primary stages.

 

To be completed 11/06/17.

[Neive Undant]

Looking up as he walked up the steps of the temple, and the spirits of the fallen have answered his prayers. He was not sure who it was exactly that stood in front of him, but by his intimidating demeanor and his words, Neive could tell... This man was sith.

 

Neive wasn't sure exactly what to do, all he could do was put his head down and speak. "My apologies, sir... May I ask, are you Sith?" his hands went behind his back, however his vibro blade sat on his side. He was giving the man in front of him a gesture of utmost respect in the Dathomiri culture, and furthermore the position he held almost gave the man a superiority over Neive.

 

"And if so, I would like to ask... How do I become sith as well?"

[Exodus]

"..You are standing at the archway of a Sith Temple, and as you see me now, do your senses not answer that question for you?"

 

Lockjaw stood a few steps higher than the creature, sizing him up and weighing his value to the Sith, if he could indeed find any. He wondered if Lord Exodus would have use for such a man in his ranks, or if he would better serve as a slave on the Maw, laboring his life away to the service of a new Empire. The Stalker's heavy breath filtered through the helmet that disguised his features, the symbol of the Sith hand marked in nasty red paint across his armor. "You are in the presence of a Sith, and in the becoming of one, I can show you." His deceptive tone trailed off, oozing with the idea of an ultimatum.

 

 

• "..But are you ready to learn?"

 

 

(OOC: This is just an NPC of mine. If you wish to be trained under me, understand that I will attempt to mold you the way I see fit, but I will work off of the ideas and fun with which you want to carve out for your character. I will spend a lot of time coaching your posting style, the presentations of your post and how pleasing to the eyes they can become, as well as other things. Leave the ego at the door, and I can get you where you want to be in this RP.)

 

 

 

• =============================

 

 

 

Traffic Control for The Zeltron searched their files and directives and were alerted of no summons in particular that referenced the Dark Lord. The construction of the Golan III platform was intensely organizing themselves to achieve the completion date, and the neighboring forces remained on extensive alert. This Yacht in particular carried a measure of importance, and signified a value attached to an interesting man. "You have no clearance here, Zeltron. State your business or surrender your vessel and your lives." A cold directive eased through the communications with a sense that he intended to make good on his words.

 

 

"Young Keenava. There was a particular broadcasting done awhile back, the entire presentation struck me as odd. I had a team trace and analyze the ad campaign and came up with certain irregularities. To eliminate exposure, I sent a trio of Stalkers to track the influx of volunteers for the unusual program and reports claim that those same volunteers have all seemed to vanish one by one. It is a pharmaceutical company using common folk as practice, but the disappearances are more than curious to me. There is one creature tied to the investments, a thing by the name of Dordjooba, find him and source him for information. Send me what you find."

(OOC Note: Was a personal mission for Keenava, now that I've reviewed the premises of which this was based on, you may have to find another way. Exodus isn't here, and you haven't communicated with him directly. It's a mission done in secrecy.)

 

[Neive Undant]

Although his senses were dulled and untrained, he had never witnessed a power such as the one before him. He had asked an ignorant question, he knew, but the clarification was mandatory for him. The man before him was a Sith, the fact was simple. But the way he studied Neive made him slightly uncomfortable... like an animal scouting prey. It was unsettling, but by this point Neive was used to the strange stares by many others. In response to the man's question, Neive kneeled to the man.

"I am..."

Neive had been looking for this opportunity for years. Finally, he thought, he could be trained... and finally become a sith.

 

(OOC: I understand, and will comply in every way possible. Anything you think I can improve on, I'll try my best to do so.)

[Exodus]

• "You have much to learn, and those things may very well break you."

 

Lockjaw stared into the soul of the outsider, allowing the lasting taste of what he meant sink deep into his heart. "Take a few moments to gather your mind, and then prepare yourself. All around you, and for miles, is a land of far-reaching sand and history. Within this temple before you however, is the etching of Kings and Gods." The Sith Stalker turned and pointed towards the massive temple that lay before the two of them, just beyond these steps. "Many come and go, trying to grasp the way of our Code, trying to measure just how to unlock the freedom in their pathetic lives. The answers are all here, and the secret is buried deep inside of your most harbored emotions. I will teach you to Master them."

 

 

"Enter the temple you see before you and make your way to the Chamber of the Acolytes. There are thousands of scholars from abroad that sully the place like little insects. Blend in, and take this keycard." Lockjaw placed his hand out in front of him, and a small electronic card pulled itself from the soft linen robe that covered his armor pieces, floating to his hand as if by an invisible force. "This card will allow you access to my old quarters. The place has not been touched for a great length of time, I've had no use for it since my Lordship. I will meet you there when the Sun settles and darkness spreads across Korriban once more. Be ready"

 

The Stalker brushed passed the outsider, still unsure of what to call the man, but caring not for formalities of names. He pushed forward and off of the steps, onto the barren land in hunt of something that had eluded him for quite some time. He figured the Zabrak could fill his interests by surrounding himself with the histories of the Sith or even to roam the halls and examine the many different creatures that lingered here in search of greater power. It was anyone's guess, for all he knew, he could take to the quarters and pass out until Reaper Lockjaw came knocking.

[Sanity]

The impact of the vessel hitting the atmosphere of Korriban jolted Brad in the pilot seat. He had a feeling this was where he was meant to be.

Ever since Brad sold his house on Tatooine, to start his life of space adventure, he had felt drawn to Korriban. He had travelled a few times to the system, but this would be the first time he would land.

 

The H-14 falcon class starfighter decent slowed as Brad brought it into a hover. He was having second thoughts. He felt the all too familiar pull to land on the planet. It was calling to him. He had vivid dreams of coming here. He swore he could sometimes hear the screams of those the sith had sacrificed.

Brad lowered his ship down onto a landing pad. He had requested access before entering the atmosphere.

Te starfighter touched down with a considerable jolt.The clank of durasteel hitting the landing pad a familiar sound to Brad. He climbed from the cockpit and dropped down onto the hard surface of the landing pad. The noise was new. Having lived on Tatooine for a few years, the hustle and bustle of the Faust Intergalactic Starport.

 

The smell of blood was in the air. He wasn't sure if it was real or not, but oddly, Brad found he didn't hate it.

[Neive Undant]

Neive listened to the man's statement, and hung on every word. He awaited the man to finish his speech before replying, however as the man left, Neive felt it wasn't necessary. Being here, with the history of the sith... it was an honor, and it was fairly obvious that Neive felt that way only by the way he examined the entrance.

As Neive entered, he studied the walls and the many tombs of those who had died in defense of the temple. It was truly a sight, he thought. Seeing the resting place for so many sith. It seemed like it was impossible for a sith to die, but here... so many had fallen. It was strange.

As Neive walked to the room that the man had explained to him, he used the keycard and opened the door. Inside, he saw, was not much. However, just being in this room, seeing how the man who lived here before had become such a force of... the force... well, in any case, it was something Neive was humbled by.

As he sat down in the middle of the room and closed his eyes, trying to relax. Slowly, the few things around the room began slowly floating off the floor, Neive not noticing. About a few minutes before he opened his eyes and saw everything fall.

"What..."

Perhaps he had more power than he had thought...

 

But that was no reason to get confident.

[Raynuk Montar]

No one who came to Korriban and landed at the Faust Intergalactic Starport went unnoticed by those that lived and toiled within the massive Sith Temple. And so, the moment the odd looking fighter labeled as an H-14 requested permission to land at the starport, it was being watched and tracked. Given a berth in docking bay 23, the ship's lone occupant was observed from the far end of the complex as he disembarked and landed on the cold unforgiving stone that was the surface of Korriban. And then...

 

The man did nothing. He simply stood there, next to his ship, almost sniffing the air. Finally, when it appeared the newcomer was not going to do anything interesting, the agent of the Sith known as Kashaw approached, crossing the landing pad.

 

"You. Why have you come here? Are you lost, or are you foolish enough to think you would, and could, join the Sith?" Kashaw asked of the newcomer.

 

Elevated to a position of some rank within the Temple, the entity known as Kashaw answered to Darth Quietus, instructed to serve the Warrior King in much the same manner that Lockjaw served the Dark Lord. When the members of the Trinity were away from the temple, it was Lockjaw and Kashaw who acted and spoke for them. A mountain of a man, clad in armored and hooded robes, Kashaw towered over most he came in contact with, looming ever bigger as he continued to approach.

 

"Look at you... barely more than a pup. What makes you worth the effort?" Kashaw bellowed, intending to provoke a response, his face still hidden by his hood.

[Sanity]

Brad closed the cockpit of his fighter and paused. He felt something. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He could feel it in the back of his mind. He was so enthralled by trying to figure out what this feeling was he jumped when he heard the voice. The deep voice of the sith catching Brad off guard. He spun around seeing the large man, Brad honestly didn't know why he came to the planet, he had felt drawn here. He couldn't explain why. Maybe the sith could... Maybe it was the force... Maybe it was destiny that he should join the sith...

 

"I don't know why I came. I had a feeling this is where I am meant to be. Maybe I am meant to join you. I left my home twice, aside from that ship..." he gestured to the ship behind him. "I have nothing except my passion.If you are sith, and that is a real question. Train me. I have the passion and will to learn. I don't believe in coincidence, I was drawn here for a reason, and the sith seem the only one who can tell me why. Maybe I am destined to live a long life as a sith, or honourably for the dark lord. I don't care. I have nowhere else to go."

[Sheog the Mad]

Balanced like a feline upon a stone-hewn helm of a long dead king, the conduit called to the spirits of Korriban’s past. A feast of carrion upon a decaying soul. Only one of a legion appeared that did not desire sustenance through torture. Leaning against sandstone, a small murmur of the Force would call to the daughter of Ar-Pharazon, like a stone cast upon a placid lake, breaking the surface to reveal a swarm of life lurking beneath. A living shadow, holding faint semblance of the Valley of the Dark Lords. A smile of sharpened teeth was all that could be seen from cowled shadows.

 

“Do you forever desire to wield the creation of another? Without a bond forged in creation, your weapon only carries the scent of weakness… The odor of a thousand unknown shatterpoints... ”

 

[Raynuk Montar]

Kashaw studied the man before him from beneath his hood for a moment before responding.

 

"Or maybe you are destined to die here, falling miserably short of your goal, your hopes and dreams shattered around you."

 

Kashaw reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing that the mountain was a pureblood Sith, his skin a darker shade than most and his face sporting prominent scars. "You have found the Sith, but I am not one to train you. I can, however, show you what you wish to become a part of."

 

Kashaw turned from Brad and began walking back out of the bay, gesturing for Brad to follow. There were no pleasantries to be had from Kashaw, and the envoy of the Sith had little patience or regard for newcomers. He lead the way towards the Temple proper. Once the pair were before the grand entrance, Kashaw stopped, tentatively breaking the silence that had fallen.

 

"Behold it's splendor. Take one more step forward, and your life as you know it, will end. Irrevocably changed. You will be tested, you will be broken, and in the end, you will be destroyed. But survive it, and you will be reborn as a Sith."

 

When Brad did indeed take the step forward as Kashaw expected, the Sith continued walking, taking them into the temple itself. "The path is taken then. There is no going back now; the landing pad with your ship will be placed on lockdown. You will remain here until such point that your eventual master allows you to leave, or you die. There is no exception."

 

After ushering the new hopeful through the otherwise exhaustive inspection processes, Kashaw gave Brad a very curt and detail lacking tour of the central main praxeum, pointing to where the main dining hall was, and pointing to each of the three temples that house the specific orders of the SIth; the Assassins, the Warriors, and the Krath. With the tour completed, Kashaw pointed in the general direction of the dormitories.

 

"There are rooms for you to stay in down there." He said curtly. There was little help or guidance to be had or given, and that was by design; the moment Brad had stepped into the temple, his trials had begun. How he fared over the next few hours and even days, would mean everything. This was not some high-society institute of higher learning on a rich planet, with weekly dorm meetings, 'safe spaces', open-door policies, or group time; this was the Praxeum of Unholy Dormition. This was survival. No room assignments, no schedules, just carving a place for yourself among murderers, monsters, and demons.

 

"Try not to die messy," was the only advice Kashaw offered in that moment.

[Sanity]

"Down there?" Brad said gesturing down the hall. The air in the temple was a little overwhelming. Such anger. Such hatred. It was all so intense, even Brad could feel it. He turned to the temple that was pointed to as the warrior temple. It seemed to call to him. He took a step towards it and halted himself.

Brad turned to the dorms and walked down towards them. He would have time later to explore the temple. Hopefully with a master. He stopped about ten metres from the dorms. He thought to himself. This didn't seem like the sort of place that had designated bunks, or if they were designated, it was because the strong had a personal preference. Probably best to wait until nighttime when everyone was in their bunk to avoid unnecessary conflict among the order he was joining. He turned, looking back to Kashaw then the Warrior temple. His gaze moving back to the pureblood Sith. "You said you cannot train me. Who will?"

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Telperien jumped off the statue and let in a gasp of hot Korribani air before looking the spirit in the eyes. Her eyebrows arched for a moment in thought, reflecting the style of her dear father before she tossed the shoto aside with a grunt of disgust. It deactivated after carving out the legs of a statue of the Lord Draken. She let out a gutteral giggle before a booming voice echoed through the force in the hall

 

Weakness is unbecoming in a daughter of mine

Follow this spirit to the end of the galaxy

You will learn a footing in the force

From there you can become the crucible for its destruction

 

She nodded, letting her braids tumble across her brow, where she scooped them back into a ponytail before re-fixing her gaze on the force spirit. Her purple eyes mixed with flecks of Ar-Pharazon gold gazing into the plain of the force, an unnatural consuming fire burning behind them. Her gaze was focused and her mouth twisted into a fierce grin, all pearl white teeth, the gums flecked with blood from her earlier coughing fit.

 

I refuse to be weak, teach me to be strong, so I may bring glory to the Father

[Raynuk Montar]

Kashaw actually laughed in the face of this newcomer, stopping as Brad had asked the question just as Kashaw was preparing to leave.

 

"No one will train you until you prove yourself worthy of it," he answered once the laughter had subsided. He gestured to the temple that surrounded them both in that moment. "Look around you; there are countless others who think they're worthy of being trained by the Sith. All who think as you do, that they are worthy, that they were meant to be here, that they are destined to live a long life as a Sith."

 

Kashaw turned to stare down at Brad. "You are always being watched by those above you in this temple. You must prove yourself superior, better, and more worthy than the other hopefuls. You can be assured they will be doing the same; to prove themselves above you."

 

Kashaw this time began walking away, leaving Brad to fend for himself. "But for now? For now you may attend some of the general training sessions with the other hopefuls. But to attain a true Master and become an apprentice... you must impress someone."

 

And then, Kashaw was gone, disappearing into one of the busier hallways of the Sith Temple.