Korriban

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Well I am glad the weakness that was Darth Bane is gone from this order, are there still some that wish his will done? And if so why are they not quickly dispatched as traitors?

 

She knew the concept behind tribes that molded and formed around each other and to apply such virtues to the Sith seemed adequate. She nodded slowly as she finished her breakfast and looked up to her mama.

So what is the next training that you have for me?

[Qaela]

Qaela took them to another training hall, this one empty and meant for general use. "The Force can be used for many things, and one of the greatest of those is the ability to manipulate the mind of others. At its simplest forms, it can cause someone to forget what a face looks like, to miss a weapon being held by you, or to become more relaxed and not as aware as they should. More advanced forms allow you to manipulate their moods making them paranoid, anxious, nervous, afraid, or even full of false courage and hope. You can sometimes even plant seeds of ideas into victims that will warp their beliefs and make them more amenable to your suggestions or to question their own superiors. Masters of mind manipulation can even force individuals to do things they would normally never do such as betray their allies or commit heinous acts.

 

"As a smaller person not quite able to get your way through brute strength, you must use the mind warping abilities of the Force to guile, misdirect, manipulate, and overpower your enemies. Do this and you can slip into enemy bases without raising the alarm, cause your enemy to assist you or destroy their own plans and defenses, or even bend them to your will and break them until they are yours to do with as you wish.

 

"The first step in this is simply to reach out with your own mind and learn to touch the minds of those around you. You must first sense something to be able to eventually manipulate and control it. For the next few weeks, we will focus on this in addition to your combat training. Learn it well and you will find it an invaluable ally."

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

The weeks crawled by like ants on a mile long journey, as Telperiën trained under her mother with the watchful eyes of the spirits hinting and guiding where they would. Telperiën found it easier to blend into the slave caste within the Sith temple and she used the force to help, slowly at first, manipulate the minds of her fellow slaves to accept her and finally to have the other sith treat her like one. She served, she snuck about, she mind tricked, she relied on her stealth and her small stature to move almost completely unseen throughout the temple. After several weeks, she walked unseen through the kitchens, her bare feet making little noise on the flagstones.She was dressed in the slave outfit of the Sith, though one suiting her age and began to help serve the Sith at eating. She reached out with the force and closed down her presence, only lifting the veil for a moment to obscure her face with her long locks of red brown hair. She slowly dropped off plates and cups to the gathered Sith lords and apprentices. Those that became suspicious of their dinners she reached out and cast a cloud about their minds. Or distracted them by making a servant across the hall drop a stack of dishes with a nudge of the force. Or with the especially weak minded she bent them to her will. Eat and Drink.

 

I shall make a silent spring

FInally approached her mother, while still in the garb of the slave caste and handed her dinner to her. The food was filled with intoxicants that would knock her mother out if she drank it, as was the food of everyone in the hall. She tapped her mother on the shoulder and sat down beside her as the dining hall began to collapse around them. Perhaps her mother would be proud of her work, her demonstration, though subtle had not worked on everyone and several Lords were looking about fervently for the offender.

[Qaela]

Qaela was pleased with the progress Telperien was making as she infiltrated the slave population here. It was not easy to maintain the cover, especially since so many might have seen her training with her mother. Still, aided by both the slave's own skittishness in daring to speak up and her own skills, the girl managed to succeed.

 

To her pleasure, the demonstration in the hall was delightful. It was well skilled and quite deceitful to the point that she herself was taken in. She ate enough of the tainted food that she began to feel its effects come on and had to reach into the Force to keep herself alert and begin dealing with the intrusive chemicals. Had she ever been a hasty eater like many here, she wouldn't have caught it in time. It took only reaching out to her daughter to check on her safety and receiving an inquisitive pride in return to realize who was behind this.

 

Though, as good as the demonstration was, it was not fully effective. There were several Sith Lords who were either not so quick to eat or were able to deal with the effects of the potion as she had and they were quite pissed. The tension in the room spiked to dangerous levels making Qaela want to leave with her daughter, but that was not possible at this moment as the Sith had sealed the doors to prevent the perpetrator from escaping.

 

The poor slaves were too mentally weak to resist the interrogation and were rather quickly eliminated from suspicion. That left the Sith turning on themselves. Sooner or later, they would either erupt into violence or find Telperien. Qaela decided that the best course of action was direct confrontation, to take initiative and call out what had happened.

 

"This is enough!" she said loudly. "You have been taught a valuable lesson!" She pointed to her daughter. "Per my instruction, she has shown you the vulnerability of your own pride and the need to remain ever vigilant. Had she chosen so, the poison could be lethal and many of our number would be dead instead of merely knocked out. Those who slumber should and will be shamed. Those who remained vigilant should be proud of their elevated status as superior than the others. Take this lesson to heart and be more wary."

 

Some seemed to accept that, but there were several who took great offense at this. "Who are you to do such a thing, witch?" one human male sneered. "You have no right to poison any of us!"

 

"Oh please," retorted Qaela dismissively, "we are Sith, we need no 'right' to do anything but the right of might and cleverness. These slumbering fools were bested by a girl, they deserve their shame. You proved worthy and no harm was done to you."

 

"Then the little brat must learn what happens when she challenges the Sith and fails," the Sith snapped.

 

Qaela took a step closer to her daughter and rested her hand on the lightsaber at her belt. Her voice dropped to frigid tones, colder than Telperien had ever heard, "Go ahead and try, but you will go through me first."

 

The Sith pulled out his own lightsaber and said, "Sounds good to me, witch. It is time someone showed you your place."

 

The sound of his lightsaber igniting was quickly joined by Qaela's. Other Sith in the area scattered, some not wanting to be part of anything and others curious as to the outcome. Nobody had challenged Qaela here, and though it was known she came with Ca'Aran and had the protection of Sheog, they didn't quite know if she could handle herself. Qaela knew that she needed to not just win this confrontation, but to do something that was memorable.

 

Pushing Telperien back and gesturing for her to stay out of it, Qaela readied herself to meet this new threat. She hoped dearly that Telperien would be smart enough not to interfere or more Sith may join instead of this one fool. Lightsabers clashed as the two of them tested each other, neither giving much or taking much risk. In truth, after spending many more years focusing on the art of the lightsaber, he was better with his weapon than she was. To his misfortune, she knew far more skills with the Force than he, and they were vastly more diverse and foreign than he was accustomed to dealing with.

 

Allowing her hands to be guided by the Force and staying on the defensive, Qaela began weaving a spell in a fashion her opponent hadn't ever encountered. Hearing the words of her spell, the man laughed and began pressing the attack. As the spell reached critical mass, Qaela's attention to her lightsaber defense began to wane and he managed to score at hit along her right shoulder. Only the fact she was wearing her Krath leathers saved the arm, but it still bit into her skin and burned flesh. Once making his hit, the Sith took a few seconds to relish in his minor victory.

 

Those few seconds enabled Qaela to use the pain she was now feeling to fuel the spell even further until it was ready. Twenty seconds after starting the spell, Qaela threw up her left hand to the ceiling and unleashed the pent up energy she had been building. As soon as she did, the entire hall trembled. A sound like ripping velvet tore through the room and static caused the hair of those who possessed it to stand on end. Realizing something was now truly up, the Sith backed away and focused on readying himself for whatever was coming.

 

A thin layer of clouds began to form just below the ceiling. Had Korriban been a wetter world, they would have been far thicker, but the dry air increased the friction and static buildup. The storm brewing above was perhaps the end result of her spell, but it was not the end of her plan. Had she desired, she could have released the built up energy within this room and fried most everyone here not strong enough to absorb the energy. From the looks of a few of the Sith, it seemed they grew to understand that and began backing away farther from the confrontation.

 

Her opponent seemed slightly hesitant now, but stubborn. He apparently needed some further convincing. "Go ahead and attack again," she said calmly. "We can continue this fight, but know that the spell you are sensing isn't what is creating the storm, but rather what is containing it. Any of you fools can learn to create these storms, but none of you are wise or controlled enough to contain what you unleash. As soon as my attention is diverted, the storm will be unleashed and all of us here will deal with a very nasty outpouring of energy."

 

She laughed, "I am a Sith as well as a Nightsister. Controlling nature is, well, second nature to me. I can and will survive, but will you? Leave now with this lesson and nothing further needs come of this. Cross me or my daughter again in the slightest way, and I will cook you from the inside out and feast on your heart." Well, she wouldn't actually eat his heart, but these people thought her a savage anyway, so why not let them believe she would do just that?

 

Doubt crossed the man's face as he contemplated his next move. His eyes darted around to his fellow Sith and he began to realize that they were no longer siding with him in this confrontation, but rather were wanting him to back down. With a snarl, he deactivated his lightsaber and retorted, "Fine, but if your brat crosses me I will deal with her when mommy isn't there to protect her."

 

He turned away and made for the nearest door while the other Sith began scrambling to unseal them. Slowly, Qaela began bleeding away the energy she had built up above them and the storm began dying out. Turning to her daughter, she spoke with eyes still full of power from the spell. "You did well, my daughter, but a very important lesson in life is learning to not be where the victims of your efforts are unless you are completely sure you can wipe them all out. Now, I suspect it is best for us to make ourselves scarce for a little while. We will return to our rooms to further discuss this and plan your future."

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Telperiën grabbed one of the steak knives from the table and held it next to her thigh, to be concealed in the crimson flow of the long loin cloth she was wearing. She watched her mother verbally spar with the Sith lord, come to her defence and force the Sith Lord to back down. It was awe inspiring and she felt like she learned quite a bit from the back and forth. When he had finally left, whimpering away like a dog, her mother redressed her with some very appropriate advice. As they walked to their chambers to shower and change Telperiën asked a question that had had been on her mind for a while. She grabbed the door frame and began to shrug off the slave clothing,

 

That is great advice mama. Do you think I can make a lightsaber someday?

 

Her eyes sparkled slightly in the dim light of the refresher. Her desire for such a weapon very strong.

[Qaela]

Qaela considered her daughter's request. "When you prove to me you are worthy of wielding one of your own, yes. Until then, learn all you can and demonstrate it wisely to show you are ready to possess a tool. Until then, it is time to learn something few Sith know."

 

She pulled out her favorite wooden knife, a tool that had been with her since she first left Dathomir. "You have seen this and know what it is." It was wood, true, but it was imbued with the Force to be razor sharp, never chip or dull, and to be able to even deflect blaster bolts or lightsaber blades. Despite being only half the length of her forearm, it was a potent weapon she had used to kill many times. "A lightsaber is flashy, true, but it telegraphs who and what you are in a way almost nothing in this Galaxy can do better. Pull one out and everyone knows who or what you are and generally what you are capable of."

 

She gave her daughter the weapon. "However, pull this out or something similarly imbued, and nobody knows what you are. I smuggled this very blade into the Galactic Senate on Coruscant, straight into the heart of their senatorial stronghold and in position to kill senators, and they knew not it was even there. Nobody suspects wood, it isn't picked up on weapons scanners, and if properly concealed in a form fitting box, nobody even knows it exists. Stealth, misdirection, and deception, my daughter, are often more powerful than brute strength. You can even imbue common objects nobody would ever suspect as being so strong.

 

"Tell me, what do you think would come in handy that nobody would suspect is a threat?"

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

She took the knife and held it close to her chest, she placed the wooden knife down on her bed and quickly stepped into the refresher. Shutting the door she let the sterilized water run across her body, mixing with the soap to end in rivulets of bubbles and washed off grime. She leaned down and gathered a few of the long hairs that had caught in the drain from her scalp and brought them out to her mother.

 

What about a garrote of force hardened hair?

 

She held up the ten long hairs to the light and looked to her mother. If imbued with the force they could be strong and sharp enough to sever throats, veins, muscle, and even bone. They could be easily strung between two rings and used to murder and mayhem.

[Raynuk Montar]

"ENOUGH."

 

The bellowing, commanding voice filled the large training room and seemed to only grow in intensity as the sound bounced off the walls. As if buffeted by the sound itself, Brad was thrown backwards again, away from his intended target, The large, wooden improvised weapon that Brad was swinging was ripped from him by invisible hands as the singlular word filled the room. Either following the wood as it flew across the room, or instinctively knowing the source, all eyes in the room suddenly turned and shifted to the source of both.

 

Chanjak stood, alone among the crowd, hand out stretched towards where Brad had loomed over Faen for but a moment before the wood rocketed to fill his hand. Chanjak's own eyes were glaring at Brad, the reckless newcomer who had interrupted his class demanding a fight, and now had broken the rules of that fight. Chanjak threw the wood to the ground hard, splintering it. A few of the acolytes and hopefuls who had been closest to the instructor took a step back, and all, including Adik were diverting their eyes to the floor.

 

"I do not care who you are, what you have done, or what you think you deserve. This training room, and this temple are not here to serve you. You are here to serve the Sith, not the other way around. You are owed nothing until you nearly give your life to earn it. All you have proven here, is your selfishness, your arrogance, and your disrespect for the rules; none of which are to be mistaken for virtues."

 

Chanjak stared holes into Brad for a moment longer before he finally broke the stare, looking around at the rest of those gathered. "Scandrik, help Faen to his feet and to the medical facility. And someone peel Grigor off the floor and deliver what remains of him to the Krath; perhaps they will find a use for him. And seeing as how he will no longer be needing his bunk..."

 

Chanjak turned to Adik, who still stood hands clasped behind his back and eyes cast downward. "Adik, show our arrogant newcomer there, then continue your duties. The rest of you; Dismissed."

 

Adik nodded and bowed, not even bothering to look at Brad before practically gliding to the doorway as the rest of the hopefuls and acolytes that had watched the fight also began to file out of the massive room. Chanjak remained standing in the same spot as everyone scurried around him. True to his word, Adik waited for Brad, and then wordlessly exited the room expecting the newcomer to follow as he lead the way back towards the living section of the temple. They walked past countless doors and halllways, until finally Adik stopped at one and beckoned towards it.

 

Inside, the room housed four hopefuls, of which Brad was now going to be one, in a standard quad configuration; each was given a corner of a 7 meter square room. The accommodations were Spartan-esque, consisting of a bed, a footlocker, and little more outside the common seating area in the middle of the room. Already within the room were two of the other three hopefuls, both of which were as large as Grigok had been. They looked at Brad with quizzical and judgmental stares before looking to Adik, who had remained in the hallway.

 

"This one killed Grigok, and will be taking his bunk." Adik responded simply towards the others, before giving Brad another smile that read like a cat playing with a toy before the acolyte turned and walked away, leaving Brad alone with the two large hopefuls.

 

"You... killed Grigok." One of them ventured, giving Brad a once over and scoffing in his direction.

[Sapphire]

A comm arrives for AVATAR Kain, from a small astromech droid.

 

 

Blood Gem pirates' base under attack by Imperial forces. Requesting if the Sith are going to defend Nar Shaddaa. No response expected.

 

End transmission.

 

[AVATAR Kain]

The comm had interrupted and annoyed Kain. He quickly sent a reply, making a note to personally look into the situation later. Right now, he was reading field reports of action that had occurred on Mandalore. Apparently there had been a splinter Sith, some self-fashioned pretender to the throne named Ab'ki that had managed to round up a rather large army and assault the Mandalorians.

 

What an idiotic thing to do. Firstly, they held no tactically advantageous territory, and secondly, it was like purposefully sticking one's genitals in a hornet's nest and expecting to not get stung. Of course her forces had been decimated, but apparently they had given the Mandalorians a good run for their money. One name stuck out to him in the tactical reports, an agent that had been hired on and managed to gain a prestigious position in a short amount of time. One that likely would have been able to secure victory on the Mandalore front had the whole plan not been terrible in the first place. But it wasn't the first time an organic had been duped by promises of power. And a genetic sample was on file as well, but with a brainscan that was dated prior to the battle.

 

For two seconds, Kain weighed various factors. She was dead, doing nothing would cost him nothing. But extending his benevolence also cost him near nothing, and could gain a powerful ally when all other cards were on the table. Kain had never been known to gamble, AIs tended to rely on solid facts and figures, but the variables here didn't guarantee positive results, and the margin of error was wide enough that the smallest hint of uncertainty churned in the back of his processes. But strength came from the unlikliest of places, and gathering strength was an ideal he clung to.

 

On a whim, Kain sent out instructions. Should he regret this in the future, he was more than capable of handling a potential disappointment.

 

Out the cockpit canopy of The Sword Logic, the Interdictor Destroyer was nearing completion. Construction of the interior was all that was left, the superstructure had been finished for a while now. Of course, Kain's specifications were precise. This wasn't a bread and butter stiff Empire ship, the interior would be fashioned after debauched Hapan styles, except done in dark shades befitting the Sith. Lastly, the ship and its fighters would be painted matte black, a measure that would make it easier for it to prey on other ships. To compensate, the starfighter pilots would have their helmet HUDs updated to be able to better track shipmates and tagged enemy craft.

[Sanity]

Brad was shaken from his whole ordeal. He carefully walked over and collected his blaster and multi-tool. As he bent down to pick up his multi-tool he winced and placed his hand on the bruise now on his spine. That's going to be a nuisance. Brad straightened up and headed for the door.

Asik was waiting for him, and he followed without much of a fuss until he got in the room and Adik. One of them leaned in and spoke. "You... killed Grigok."

Brad felt the air of menace coming from both men. He stretched out his shoulders and his left foot dropped back. Looking up into the eyes of the man who spoke. The malice in his eyes plain to see. "What's it to you. Where you his little Schutta?" He said clenching his fist ready to counter an attack.

[Raynuk Montar]

The hopeful gave Brad another once over, then let out a single laugh, smacking the other hopeful beside him on the chest with the back of his hand before turning his attention back to Brad.

 

"So do you try and insult everyone you meet? Or are we to consider ourselves special?" He countered, ignoring the intended barb. "No wonder you got into a fight with Grigok with an attitude like that..."

 

The hopeful turned around back to his own corner, tossing a datapad onto his bed. The other hopeful, who had remained quiet since Brad entered, glanced at his friend before pointing to the corner to Brad's right, his voice almost comically high for such a massive figure. "That was Grigok's corner; suppose it's yours now though, aye? That there's Xanthan, and I'm Boberkunchurtic, but you can just call me Bob; ususally easier for your kind, less sounds to trip over and all that."

 

Bob sat down on the edge of his bed, while Xanthan seemed to scoff at Bob's apparent friendliness. "Don't mind Xanthan. Why'd you go and kill Grigok anyway?"

[AVATAR Kain]

Finally, the interdictor destroyer was complete. A comm was sent out to the Gems, notifying them they needed to come collect their prize. Kain calmly waited for them in the hangar, once again wearing the regular guise of a droid.

[Exodus]

An encrypted comm. for Qaela & Telperien --

 

 

There is an unsightly scar,

One of which the both of you share.

The scar is the disgrace of your names.

One sullied in carnal humiliation,

The other founded in a man that amounted to nothing in his lifetime.

 

Follow me, and shed your names. Become more than what you are.

 

 

Coordinates: R-XX. You will meet with the fleet, and prepare for battle.

 

- The Spider.

 

 

 

=====

 

 

 

An encrypted comm. Kain --

 

Lord Kain,

 

There is a special task that requires your attention. With particular defenses now functioning over several locations, and the emergence of a new fleet, there is now an urgency for dedicated communication between the cogs of our machine. The bare-bone schematics of what I require is being uploaded to a cache on Korriban, and I will need a definitive in short notice. This will be instrumental to the language of the Sith Empire, but the information must not be compromised. Furthermore, the fleet on Umbara is in preparation for travel. The coordinates are as follows; R-XX. Your presence is required if you have found yourself stagnant, otherwise I will contact you soon for further instruction.

 

- The Spider.

 

[Qaela]

Qaela considered her daughter's request for a garrote with mixed feelings. Part of her was proud at how practical Telperien had become and how well she was taking to her training. Another part of her was slightly horrified at how terrifying her little daughter had become. It was an interesting dichotomy that she had slowly been wrestling with over the past few months of training here. She knew her daughter had to be able to protect herself, but it was also a sacrifice of her innocence: something she herself never got to experience. Now, though, wasn't the time for the concern. In this Galaxy, things were too dangerous not to protect yourself. She would rather Telperien be able to defend herself and live longer to one day regret the brutality of her upbringing than die young and helpless like her brothers.

 

"Of course, it would be a quite effective weapon, though it needs something else." She took five of the hairs and set them aside. Then, with not even a grimace or flinch, she pulled five of her own raven black hairs and added them to the remaining five of her daughter's. She rummaged around the room to find something suitable and was glad to see a few drink coasters made of some blood red rubberized material.

 

Using the Force and a seductively complex spell, she began to weave the hairs all together to form one cohesive strand that was thin and, for the moment, fragile as hair was. As soon as that was complete, she set the chord aside and focused on the drink coasters. They were, at their present state, a simple disc and not a loop. She used her wooden knife to carve the center out of two of them to serve as hand holders. Once finished, she looped the ends of the hair chord through them and set the contraption on their small table.

 

From here, things got far more complex. While explaining to her daughter the steps, she began forming the Nightsister spell to imbue the garrote with the Force. She used the Nightsister spells since she didn't know the Sith versions or even if there was something that was quite like it. The spell, while difficult, was something she had learned long ago and had committed to memory. She was bemused at how much easier it was to perform now than it was a decade ago, but that was logical considering how much she had learned and grown in that time.

 

After a few hours of teaching and working the spell, the garrote was ready for use. The hairs were, while slightly less flexible than a normal hair would be, still quite flexible. The rubberized coasters were more rigid than the hair, but still gave a little and were smooth enough not to bite into the hand using them. The entire weapon was, for lack of a better term, practically invincible. The Force had altered it on a level science couldn't explain making it nearly impervious to wear and damage. Its ability to cut was now limited only by how strong a force was applied to it. Qaela was fairly confident it would cut through stone or hardened steel like butter if given a strong enough pull.

 

"Take it now," she said as she handed it to her daughter. "This is the first weapon I bestow upon you. May it serve you well for the rest of your days."

 

She stood up and went to the kitchenette to get something to drink when she noticed the message sent by Exodus. Her initial reaction was one of a significant amount of anger. He had little right to question her choices or her name. A goodly portion of her wanted to leave the Sith once more and never turn back. It was the pure arrogance and pride that presumed superiority and dominance rather than a desire to work as a single, complimentary and cohesive unit. In short, it was the same mentality that caused other Sith to turn on each other.

 

After a quarter hour or so of anger, Qaela cooled down. Sometimes, she knew, it was best to swallow pride and do what was needed to progress and advance. She needed the Sith right now, and if that meant ignoring the Dark Lord's insults, so be it. She was not pleased at all, but would let this sleight roll off her for now.

 

"Come," she said after careful consideration. "The Dark Lord has decided to make use of us. It is time to see the leader of the Sith in action and decide whether we wish to fully commit to his cause or go our own path. Do as I say without question on this journey. Remember your lesson in the dining hall: there are consequences for your actions you may not see, but that I have the experience to. If I say to run, run. If I say to fight, fight. If I say to stay behind, you will do so without argument. I do not know what his plans are, but working with the Sith is always dangerous. Is that quite understood?"

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

As her small hands moved in deft, well practised maneuvers with both the garrote and knife that she had learned over the months of training, Telperiën watched her mother’s face. When she had returned from the kitchen, her appearance had darkened and her aura was filled with apprehension. Telperiën knew before her mother spoke that it was time for them to find the action she had been lusting for. The Dark lord had a need, and they were to fill it.

 

Silently she packed her small rucksack and after clipping the garrote into the small of her back and the knife to her belt she walked beside her mother through the long storied halls of the Sith. She made almost no noise as they walked, her bare feet making no sound in the practiced footsteps of an assassin.

 

I have learned my lesson mama, I will listen, I will obey and I will make you proud

She grinned to herself as she adjusted the straps on her leather armour as they walked. She could feel the bloodlust inch into her mind, exhilarating. This was an exciting development and one that she was sure was dangerous. Thinking of something she let out a growl of happiness that came from the back of her throat.

 

Do you think Delta will be there?

[Qaela]

Qaela packed the rest of their possessions, leaving nothing behind that she thought would ever be useful in case they never came back. She also made sure to pack Telperien's plastoid armor and kami since she knew the girl may need it. She didn't have many things of her own. Everything was able to fit in a decently sized case that hovered behind them on repulsorlifts. Most of that was simply weapons and things she had appropriated while here on Korriban.

 

Almost out of nowhere, a lowly acolyte approached her and, with a small amount of timidity, handed her a datapad with directions to and codes for a shuttle in one of the hangars. She didn't question how the youth knew her need, but accepted it and led her daughter there.

 

It did not take long to get their things situated, but it did take a quarter hour of familiarizing herself with the controls before Qaela felt comfortable in taking off. She knew how to pilot, but it wasn't her strongest trait and she wouldn't want to be in combat in this thing. In a matter of minutes, they were clear of Korriban's gravity well and making the jump to hyperspace to rendezvous with the Dark Lord.

[Raynuk Montar]

With much less haste than it had departed the planet, the Ravenhammer had suddenly and mostly unexpectedly returned. Having been forced to kill Raia to free her of the demons that haunted her, Raynuk had indeed learned a lesson, though certainly not the one that Ar-Pharazon had demanded or intended. Between that experience and the subsequent summons from the Dark Lord, Raynuk knew the time had come to recommit himself to the Sith and the pursuits of the order as directed by Exodus. He would look to the future of the Sith, and for the moment that would mean returning to Korriban and taking a proper apprentice. But first the summons from the Dark Lord had to be replied to in kind.

 

Raynuk had always both admired Exodus’ poetic, almost transcendent way of approaching things, and found it insanely frustrating at times. The man liked to talk in riddles, similes, and metaphors which simply gave the man an air of superiority. But Raynuk knew better than to dismiss it as simple window dressing; Exodus was as calculating as any Dark Lord before him, and that was a large part of why Raynuk followed the man. But for fun, Raynuk would play Exodus’ word games, and replied in kind to the Dark Lord.

 

During the trip back to the Sith planet from the Shadow’s Gambit, Raynuk had run Raia through several training and sparring sessions, pushing her and building upon the lessons with each session. While originally he had begun teaching her Form I back on Coruscant as a basis for a rudimentary defense in combat, his approach had changed since then with Raia’s choice of weapon. Since she still possessed the double bladed lightsaber he had given her, and now had chosen a staff to practice with, Raynuk had switched to teaching her Form VI instead, thinking it would be a better fit for her.

[Raia Montar]

((Cowritten))

 

For her part, Raia’s confidence seemed to grow with each lesson. Every time she fell, or he tagged her, she picked herself off and squared with him, ready to go again. The familiar weight of the staff weapon in her hand reminded her of her own fight for survival, even for fighting for the lessons in secret from her mother’s champion. There were times she hesitated, and her father was quick with a physical reminder, but he also drew her out of her own head as they fought, talking her through the Ataru form, as he’d called it.

 

In between, she’d started the work of clearing her walls of the previous forest artwork, leaving them a stark white, save for a section nearest the door and opposite her bed that she’d begun work on a vast Emerald cityscape with a winding, glowing road. By the time they’d gotten to the Korriban system, the city was complete, and a large, golden triangle could be seen jutting out to the right of the cityscape with a blocking of black around it that would no doubt soon become a star field.

 

Raynuk appeared in the doorway not long after the ship returned to subspace to let Raia know they would be landing soon.

 

“Do you like it?” she asked shyly. “It’s like your tomb walls, only,” Raia paused, suddenly feeling very silly, “only it’s my story, and I’m the one to tell it instead of having it told for me.”

Raynuk for the first time since before the attempt on his life, stepped into the room fully, his arms crossing over his chest as he visually scanned the room, turning in a full circle and taking in every detail of what was there. He said nothing as he did so, finally turning to face her.

 

“Well, you are certainly a better artist than I ever was. Maybe I should hire you to re-do my tomb sometime eh?” He finally answered with a quip that brought a smile to her face, then turned to leave the room.

 

“Would it be okay if I went to study with Master Draken?” she asked suddenly, causing Raynuk to stop. “It’s not about anything. I’m just not a fighter. It’s not natural to me, and I want to be strong. I don’t want you to have to worry about me or stupid Force possessions.” She shrugged and took a breath as the words continued to come out in a rush. “Physical fighting can’t stop those. Surely Master Draken can help me with that? I don’t really want to leave you, but, I feel I should since I still have so much to learn. I want to make you proud.”

 

Her grey eyes met his, a hint of fear still in them, but a determination that hadn’t always been there burned even brighter. The thought of leaving him did scare her, but she also knew that it wouldn’t be forever. She would study hard and learn all she could with Draken, then return to his side to continue her studies with him.

 

He spent a moment with his eyes downcast then looked up at her, offering her a look that he hoped would reassure her. “That was always my plan meita, to have you train with Draken when you were ready. And it seems, you are ready. I’ve known for some time that you weren’t meant to follow my path as a warrior; I only wanted you to be ready and prepared to stand at my side. So, yes. That would be more than okay.”

 

With nothing left to say, Raynuk continued on, disappearing around the corner to head back to the cockpit.

 

Raia smiled to herself as she started to clean up her paints and brushes before securing them in the locker in her room and grabbing her jacket, more out of impulse than actually needing it. She caught herself a few steps outside of her room before she shook her head and tossed it on her bed before running to join her father in the cockpit as they made planetfall.

[Sanity]

“Oh, you know.” Brad started, relaxing. He moved over to the corner that was motioned to be his. “Get told to fight, you fight.”

[Raynuk Montar]

Bob's face scrunched up, either not liking or -- more likely -- not understanding the reason that Brad had given. Afterall, Boberkunchurtic was a massive mountain of a being, which usually meant that unfortunately he might not be so bright. Bob seemed to agonize his thinking over the answer, and then shrugged; this would not be the first time he had given up on thinking too much. But at least his face went back to normal and the casual friendliness returned.

 

"Fighting is one thing, killing Grigok is another." Bob countered, then his damned brain got in his way again, suddenly looking sad.

 

"...Did they tell you to kill Grigok?" Bob asked quieter, sounding as though he was not sure he wanted the answer.

 

Meanwhile, Xanthan hadn't moved, simply watching as Brad moved to the corner of the room, seemingly in the process of making up his own mind about this 'replacement'. Bob's turn to sadness simply made Xanthan scoff and turn his back on the other two, clearly intent upon ignoring them both.

 

================================

 

Just outside the temple, the Ravenhammer settled onto its landing pad gingerly, and a few moments later the ramp lowered, and Raynuk descended. He waved off the acolytes that scrambled towards the ship to secure it, instead ordering them to refuel it as fast as possible, as he would not be remaining on Korriban long. Raia was not far behind as they made their way into the Temple proper, and having announced his return, Kashaw was waiting for the Warrior King in the central chamber.

 

"Lord Quietus... Welcome back." Kashaw greeted, bowing to Raynuk, who glanced around the chamber to see who else was present.

 

"Kashaw, anything further to report?" Raynuk asked, getting right to the point. In-courteous as it may have been, he saw no reason to introduce Raia to Kashaw; a measure of protection on his part. Kashaw may have been his top acolyte within the temple, but the man was not much to speak of in combat settings. The keen mind was there, but the physical dexterity and strength was simply lacking, and Kashaw had proven himself not keen enough to become an Assassin, and not creative enough to become a Krath. He had the mind of a Warrior, but not the body. And so Raynuk made use of the man in that respect.

 

"Ah, no. He was returned to his new quarters with no further issues, and has remained there. Frankly, I don't think the boy knows what else to do." Kashaw reported, handing Raynuk a datapad which contained the surveillance feed for the dormatory that Brad, Boberkunchurtic and Xanthan were currently occupying.

 

Grithok had been one of the top hopefuls according to the various Lords that oversaw the Warrior Temple, and his death at the hands of this newcomer had equally angered and impressed those Lords. If Brad was to remain in the temple, those Lords would now be extremely hard on him for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was the idea of payback for killing one that they had invested in. But Raynuk had returned to Korriban to personally evaluate the newcomer, to determine if he would indeed become the next apprentice to Darth Quietus.

 

Raynuk spent a moment watching the feed, which was fairly boring, and then switched over to review the footage taken within the training room. He watched the entire instance of combat from beginning to end, pausing it at a few points to exmaine any number of details before continuing. He turned and handed the datapad to Raia however, instead of returning it to Kashaw.

"This is what I might be trading you out for." He said to her, giving the faintest hint of a sly grin. Taken at face value the words would have seemed cruel, but given Raia's request to train with Draken, he knew she would not get offended and would see the humor he had placed within the words. But he wanted Raia to see what kind of training and combat situations went on within the Warrior Temple. Plus, he would be interested to hear her thoughts on the fight itself, testing her ability to pull critical and tactical information from the footage.

 

Kashaw didn't fail to notice Raynuk handing the datapad to her, or his words. "I was not aware you had an apprentice Lord Quietus... But if this one is a problem --"

 

Raynuk signaled for Kashaw to stop talking. "You do not need to concern yourself with what I do, or do not have, unless I inform you of it Kashaw. I returned to Korriban because I deemed this situation worth my attention, and that should be more than enough motivation for you to continue the service I set you to."

 

Kashaw diverted his eyes and nodded, having been reminded of his place.

 

"Now then.... Bring him to me in the training room."

 

Another nod and a bow saw Kashaw turn and scurry off. Raynuk waited a minute, watching his agent leave as his own presence radiated within the temple. He didn't turn to Raia, but spoke to her.

"You may come if you would like, but if you have other ideas then that is fine as well. Just stay within the temple, and I will come find you when it is time to leave."

 

Raynuk then moved forward, heading towards the Warrior Temple himself, knowing that Raia would follow if she wished to do so.

 

=======================================

 

Bob and Xanthan had said little else to Brad following his arrival, coming and going as their own schedules dictated, but both were in the room again when the door opened, and Kashaw stepped in. The man looked directly at Brad, ignoring the other two.

 

"Come. Now."

 

The words were pointed, and just as quickly as he had entered, Kashaw left and began walking back down the hallway. Brad would follow immediately, or be left behind. Kashaw said nothing else as he traced a path through the temple, leading back to the same training room that Brad had killed Grigor in.

 

The massive room was barren now, empty of teaching lords, acolytes, or hopefuls. A single figure stood in the center of the room, just shy of two meters tall and donned in black armor that was well worn. The figure's back was to the entrance as it gazed up at the massive tapestry that hung down from the ceiling, the black armor standing in stark contrast to the dull silver color of the warhammer that was strapped to it's back just above some sort of projectile weapon just below, all the while two lightsabers hung at the figure's waist.

 

"As requested." Kashaw spoke, his own voice echoing inside the empty room. He received no response, and once Brad had entered, shot the man a look that was oddly... sympathetic? and then left the room entirely, leaving Brad with the figure.

 

The figure let silence fall once again, and then spoke. "He tells me, that you are new to the Sith Temple. And that you came here, with a sense of privilege; that you deserve to be here. And that you then interrupted a session in this very room, and killed one of the top hopefuls in that session, after you were pitted against him in hand-to-hand combat, and intended to bash in the skull of another before the teaching Lord intervened, and you were escorted to your new living quarters."

 

Raynuk's head turned slightly, giving Brad a side profile of the SIth's face. "Did I miss anything?"

 

There was an air of malice in Raynuk's voice, but it was mixed with a sense of superior knowledge, as though he already knew the answer. Having kept his voice even, the tone was akin to a principle that was talking to a student that had gotten in trouble and was now sitting in that principle's office. It was not anger; not yet. Brad's answer would come, and Raynuk would continue his evaluation of the man.

 

"I will ask you this once; Who are you, where did you come from, and why are you here?"

[Raia Montar]

Much like her first visit to Korriban, Raia remained silently at his side and readily followed his lead as they made their way into the temple. The heat was oppressive as she shouldered her satchel and followed Raynuk down the ramp. Leaving her jacket behind had been the smarter move as the heat from the desert proved much worse than the cooler night time temperatures she’d experienced before.

 

She accepted the datapad with little else than a slight grin of amusement before her expression returned to neutral as she reviewed the footage of the battle. Raia studied the newcomer during her first viewing, noting several things - his determination to fight on his own terms, his confidence, and his willingness to kill, even in something as simple as a sparring test. It wasn’t as though he was alone in those traits, she realized as she watched through a second, third, and fourth time - studying each of the combatants each viewing.

 

Like her, he’d fought for his place among the Sith. Like her, he’d killed to earn it and that thought didn’t cause quite the same level of queasiness in her that it once had.

 

Raia could hardly be surprised to learn that the Warrior training was brutal as its purpose was to forge the strongest weapons of the Sith. The bout was no display of solely brute strength, however. Tactics and cunning were an equal, if not greater, part of the equation as well.

 

The one who’d died had tackled his opponent head-on, while the second had waited for his opening and had adapted to the use of weapons, and the third merely bided his time while the other two wore their opponent down and served his role to set up the second for a kill shot. Raia was quick to note how each had played to their own strengths even with the three-against-one advantage.

 

As Raynuk moved toward the training area, Raia broke off toward the library to return the scrolls she’d scanned into her datapad for further study (and help translate some of the older ones.) Having weathered possession by Ar-Pharazon, she found herself less intimidated than her first visit and found the courage to ask one of the servants the way to the library.

 

The servant had insisted on returning the scrolls for her as soon as he’d noticed the lightsaber hanging from her belt. Raia shrugged and handed over the scrolls and asked the way to the training rooms for the Warrior Temple instead. She thanked him for his help (which seemed to shock him) and started off again.

 

She really hadn’t needed to ask for directions, as her father’s presence in the Force was hard to miss, but there was something about giving someone a purpose she found made her happy. If so many of these servants were used to the entitled cruelty or apathy of the other Sith, she would at least treat them with respect since they served the Sith no less than she hoped to one day.

 

Raia arrived at the training room Raynuk was in just as he was asking the man from the fatal sparring match about his origins. Rather than interrupt, she slipped into the room behind the man in question and sat with her legs folded under her, just inside the door, and quietly observed.

[Raynuk Montar]

((Sorry, can't delay any longer))

 

There were times when Raynuk was patient; where the burning rage and power within was tempered and his actions and words were measured and calm. Perhaps he owed the calm to Raia’s presence, or his longstanding connection and deeply rooted feelings towards Jaina, or simply his experience with controlling it all. But standing in the training room then, at the heart of the Korriban temple, and on the heels of a summons from the Dark Lord meant for a glorious future, Raynuks patience was thin.

 

“So be it... “

 

Raynuk’s back was still turned from Brad. The hopeful had been brought before Raynuk at Raynuk’s order, but Brad was apparently unwilling to show the respect that Raynuk, as a head Master of the Sith, had rightfully earned. He said nothing further to the hopeful as he turned, giving each the first and only chance to look upon the face of the other. Raynuk glanced to Raia, who had managed to slip into the room along the way, and then strode past Brad as though the other man didn't even exist. And to Raynuk, that was exactly the case; until and unless Brad could effectively show his worth to the order, he was worth no more breath.

 

He exited the training room and began making his way back through the temple towards the landing pad where the Ravenhammer was sitting, still prepped for flight at his behest.

 

“Time to join whatever plan Exodus has set in motion.”

 

A few scarce minutes saw Raynuk boarding the Ravenhammer once more, and once all were set, he lifted the ship from the landing pad, then from the temple, and finally from the planet itself before thrusting the ship into hyperspace, bound for the gathering of Sith.

[Raia Montar]

Raia glanced at the other man briefly before swiftly following her father back to the Ravenhammer. As Raynuk completed the final checks of the ship, Raia prepared a message for Master Draken with the help of 2V-SH, since she'd only ever worked hand-held comms before. It was sent just before the Ravenhammer departed for hyperspace and their unknown destination.

[Exodus]

The call to reception was largely ignored by their allies, but the Sith had wasted no time in shifting their power balance to fill the newly crowned Chronoweave to the brim. Korriban had manifested itself into a scrawling point of power and growth, emphasized by the thousands of creatures that inhabited it and relished the opportunity to leave their print on the galaxy. The Star Destroyer was a massive testament to the evolution of this Empire, a true symbol of change needed in the Order. The occupants of the Chronoweave bundled their resources and strapped themselves in for a journey across the stars and into the heat of battle. Drops pods for infantry and vehicles were primed and fully stocked with support and firepower. The vessel, in it's new glory, would soon enter the fray.

 

 

Chronoweave departs.

[Camik Rhonik]

Camik flew was going through the landing sequence, he would never admit it but he was a bit worried. He had heard many horrible things about this place and if half of them were true it was going to be a rough time for him. Despite that he pushed on. He had spent to long with this carrot in front of his face to worry about the stick that might be coming. He had spent the last few months chasing rumors and asking questions. It was strange that he was having an easier time finding the sith than he did the Jedi.

 

Right now Camik was putty that could be made into either Sith or Jedi, though if he was honest with himself the rage he felt inside would be better better suited for the Sith, he did not care who trained him as long as he got power. To long had he and his people been pushed down because of the strength of their backs. It was time to reclaim the proud traditions of his people, at least for him.

 

Stepping off the his ship he approached one of the spaceport attendants. Any emotions he had before were pushed down, now he only projected the Cathar he wanted to be. ”I am here for the academy where do I need to go.” While it was a question it he phrased it that it was more a order. Better to start from a place of strength than from weakness, a place he had spent for to much of his life.

 

The attendant gave directions without any fanfare, it was almost like the attendant had gotten used to this kind of behavior.

 

Taking a shuttle he found it was a short trip before he arrived at an impressive looking building. Though most of this structures and statues on Korriban were impressive. As he walked in he wondered what he should expect, and who he should talk to. He doubted there would be a plate of cookies waiting for him that all of the rumors he had heard, seemed to think would be here.

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Commander Beltradrion of the Korriban garrison, he was not particularly force sensitive himself, but had been a long time member of the Sith Armed Forces since growing up in the shadows of the Sith Academy in the little spaceport of Dreshdae. His sharp grey eyes like pricks of polar ice watched each acolyte debark from the transport, he scanned each ID until he got to Camik’s. He looked at him inquisitively,

 

“What brings you to the Valley of the Dark Lords young acolyte? Power? Cookies? Greed?”

 

((Just a NPC post to get you into the academy where your master should post soon.))

[Camik Rhonik]

Walking off the transport Camik saw the security that was in place. It seemed that the force users did not want to be bothered with having to deal with security, at least he hoped that was the case. He was not looking forward to having to pull guard duty if it wasn’t.

Answering the question was simple, of the three choices he was not going to say cookies but having them offered as a reason for coming here made Camik think that maybe the rumors were true. He never would have thought that the Sith were known for cookies.

”I come for Power” He wanted to ensure he was never placed in a situation like he was raised in again. Power seemed the best way to prevent that from happening.

[Berserker]

[Editted]

Edited November 21, 2018 by Guest

[Camik Rhonik]

Getting checked out by security Camik continued on into towards the temple. Not sure where he was going he simple followed the flow of traffic. An organization this big had to have some kind of process for bringing in new supplicants.

 

As he walked a figure walked to beside him keeping pace with him. He looked over at the hooded figure, it was not one that he had seen coming in. Not sure what to make of this person he simply answered them. He needed to get a better feel of the place before trying to stand out. ”I am Camik, and you are?” he doubted this was going to be a conversation short enough that not knowing what to call the hooded figure would simply be impolite.