Raxus Prime - Sith Temple

[darth shadowlord]

Draken smiled as he felt her presence approach the Auxillary Command Center. He turned his back to the door and waited till he heard the door open and the escort enter the room. He wrapped his arms around her as she kissed him and bent her backwards in a passionate kiss. After a few moments he swung her back up so she was leaning against him. The soldiers in the escorts all had smirks on their faces.

 

"Alright, back to your posts. Enough googling at us and inform the captain to get us underway. Dismissed."

 

The men of the escort looked rather sheepish as they left the room and Draken began to laugh. He leaned in and kissed her hungerily again for a couple of moments before breaking the kiss. He grinned at her slyly and slid his arm around her waist.

 

"This is my apprentice Wybert. So have you heard as to what the plan is yet?."

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

The evil sorcerer king known as Lord Master Ar-Pharazon viciously made his way to the Star Destroyer under his wily command, completely ignoring the Sith apprentice, Wybert, in his cruel wake. Taking his evil time about it, Ar-Pharazon settled in before commanding the racist, entirely male crew to joyously embark upon their journey into glorious war. Precious minutes were debatably wasted/spent as the wicked Ar-Pharazon and his also wicked, yet trusted, allies slaughtered many members of the crew, as brigands loyal to the Sith Master crowd the ship upon his summon, along with wizards, henchmen, killers, demons, warlocks, liars, crooked mechanics, doom speakers, naysayers, extortionists, cannibals, ghosts and mercenary droids. Ghouls and arsonists flooded into the ship too, eager to strike a killing blow against the forces of good as well. Don't count out the ghouls! Marauders, thugs, and elite troops trained in ground invasion also were present, and they were anxious to shoot Jedi Knights and young apprentices too. Large seige tanks were even loaded into storage upon the Star Destroyer, among the usual assortments of ATATs and ATSTs. TIE Bombers, Interceptors, and typical Fighters were primed and ready too. Ar-Pharazon signaled his ship, the Dreadfully Upleasant and Very Unholy Chariot of Unwarranted Suffering to follow along, manned by its crew of murderers and skeletons. Then, when all was said and done, Ar-Pharazon led his massive crew in prayer, to himself.

 

The ship blasted into hyperspace with a fury matching that of an angry sun.

 

To war!

[Wybert]

Wybert listened to Draken as he spoke, he gave a nod to show he understood. When Alora entered the room and embraced his master he just kept his head down. He gave bow to show his respect to the Sith. He waited behind to hear if the Sith knew anything about there mission, he wanted to go to the armory and get ready but he knew that that wasn't as important.

[Rookwood]

...To the very edge of the galaxy the darkness reaches, unquenchable in hunger, insatiable in its hunger. Avarice unrivalled. Only within the stars does the light walk unhindered by the dark, and yet, when the stars burn out, explode into bitter nothingness, the darkness is there to retake everything. Entropy, the inescapable end of beauty, will in itself be the end of us all...

 

A breath

 

Pungent...

 

Another

 

Disgusting...

 

With a calm hand, the ranger brushed a small arachnid from the wall of an ancient starship, half buried within the garbage that made up most of Raxus Prime. A corroding hulk, long since disembowelled by scavengers, the ship lay like a decaying skeleton, left to bleach in the harsh sunlight and acidic air by the progressing ages of discovery. The old and obsolete were left to rot upon the ground, while the young took to the stars.

 

Another analogy for the state of the Republic.

 

The ranger stood for another moment by the cadaverous form of a starship, before turning back to the precipice upon which he stood, overlooking a great chasm, about three standard kilometres across, and more than two deep. Within it, a group of droids, about a hundred strong had begun to work upon the construction of a hidden structure. It was upon his orders the droids toiled, outlining a safehouse. His kind were hunted, and many believed them to have gone from the galaxy.

 

Fools. Darkness always devours the light...

[DeCaro91]

Cayzr guided his ship down onto a trashed landing pad and quickly deactivated the engines. From what he could see of the junk planet from his cockpit window, this was not going to be pleasent. The Rodian, Koobis, had somewhat recovered from the brutal injuries suffered at the Dashade's hands but was still rather sore, Kolto only did so much after all. Desending down the ramp from his ship Cayzr caught a whiff of the pungent air and coughed slightly continuing his way down the Trash heap Koobis in tow. Carefully avoiding any toxic pools of fuel Cayzr slowly proceeded Towards the largest Junk structure he could see, hoping to get a better layout of the planet. As he climbed, he thought of some way to find the man he had been sent to find and concluded that he needed to find some form of life on this rock. The local scavengers would be the best bet as he doubted anyone else would be close at hand who knew who he was looking for. As he reached the summit of the mountain of junk he drew himself up and scanned the area. It was completely desolate. A few bubbling pools of radioactive fuel huge mountains of desh and durasteel as far as the eye could see.

 

How am I supposed to find anyone here its completley deserted. Cayr thought. "Koobis" he barked at the small Rodian.

 

Koobis jumped at the sudden break in silence. "Yes?" He asked tentatively.

 

"How would you go about finding someone here?"

 

Koobis thought for a moment. "Well the best bet would be to find the local scavengers but i have no idea where they would be." He answered wringing his hands nervously.

 

Cayzr snorted and motioned for him to follow as they descended from the mountain of metal hoping to find some clue of the person they sought.

[Emily]

What used to be a fairly regular occurrence, hardly worth mentioning, happened. The Shadow’s Shine emerged from hyperspace over the toxic planet of Raxus Prime for the first time in years. The pilot at the controls let out a sigh as the disc of the planet appeared in the transparisteel window.

 

On autopilot she brought the ship down, her fingers working the controls without seeing them. She didn’t know what to feel. Part of her was happy, in a strange way. But there were also a lot of negative memories associated with being here. It was really bittersweet in an aching way. Home. The word was really foreign to Eris. Was this place home? What even was home, really?

 

As she approached, she could see the tall black spire, looking just as it had when she had left all those years ago as a young, innocent woman of eighteen. So much had changed in her, so why didn’t her childhood home look any different? It seemed as if the landscape should have changed along with her.

 

She set the ship down—her mother’s ship, she suddenly thought for the first time in ages. The ramp lowered as the ship powered down. She sat in the pilot’s chair for a minute, then gathered herself and strode down into the hanger.

 

A delegation of curious Noghri met her. Many of them she recognized. Once they saw her, she could sense the ripple of surprise that spread through them. But after a moment, they lowered themselves to their knees. “Welcome, Lady Skywalker,” one of them spoke in a gravelly voice. “It has been a long time.”

 

She nodded. “Yes, it has,” she half-whispered to herself. Then she addressed the Nohgri. “I assume you have been keeping up this temple on behalf of the Sith?”

 

The same Noghri nodded. “We have, Lady Skywalker.”

 

“Excellent,” she replied. “For now, it remains a haven for our Order and not a main temple, but that may well change in the future.”

 

She continued to converse briefly with the Noghri, getting caught up on anything that had changed and getting a status report on the Ewok tribes in the area, as well as ensuring the Noghri’s continued loyalty. She also made sure that Roe’gall knew the Noghri were not snacks, and that they would treat him with the proper respect. It was indeed quite amusing to see how he towered over them.

 

Soon she left the hanger and walked through the complex. It was so strange how everything was just as she remembered it. It struck a melancholy chord in her.

 

Her parents haunted every corner. She kept half-expecting to see them; her father’s mismatched eyes that were the same as her own, a flash of her mother’s tattooed lekku. As she walked, she thought of them. She considered all that she remembered of them, and wondered about all that she didn’t know. There had been so much more to them than she had known. That was normal, but it frustrated Eris. For some reason, it seemed vitally important that she reconcile in her mind how she regarded her parents.

 

Her steps turned unbeknownst to her higher forms of thought and suddenly, she found herself in the throne room at the top of the spire, with its view overlooking the vast landscapes of rubbish and scrap that made up the surface of Raxus Prime. She fell into a brooding state, and fell deep into the Force in an almost meditative state.

 

As she meditated, she could almost hear a voice, echoing through time.

 

“Throughout the course of our lives we attain demons, be they memories, pain, conflicts, sufferings, our anger and our hatred.”

 

It sounded like her father’s voice. ”These dark passions, base emotions to the Jedi, our lifeblood, fuel us... empower us. Harness these things and bring them in a torrential outpour from within the depths of your soul."

 

She didn’t know if she was losing her mind or if the Force was truly granting her an echo of the past, but she was beyond caring. This was a picture of her father as he had been before she had been born. A Sith Master of great power, ambition, and skill, who had endless knowledge and yet always thirsted for more. One who would be ashamed, she was sure, if he knew that his daughter had been reduced to this.

 

Weakness is not the way of the Sith, she thought to herself. So how do I rid myself of this? Where do I go from here? This isn’t where I intended to be…

[Emily]

But the memory of her father reminded her of how he had been in his later years, after his connection with her Uncle Andon. He had seemingly become convinced that the Sith Order had missed something crucial. Her mother had agreed, she knew, although not perhaps quite as much. There were things about the Force and it's nature that the Sith were ignorant of. And, despising ignorance as he always had, he had dared to look elsewhere.

 

But the Force had called him away from them before he could really delve into that mystery. Which is why he had left his legacy to his daughter. She had promised him that she would not be blinded one way or the other.

 

But here she was. She felt blind. The dark side had consumed her, offering her promises to fulfill her wildest dreams. And in that one moment, she had believed it. But now it seemed that she was growing more and more discontent. The darkness that had offered her so much was found to be full of empty promises.

 

And more than that. Deep down, she felt tricked. It had promised her family, protection, happiness. The ability to save the ones she loved. And yet...it had led her to the opposite. She had killed one she had loved. It had twisted the truth and caused her to destroy family. And it had led her into this wandering despair.

 

The chains began to weaken in her soul. For a moment, hope, that emotion so strange to Eris, began to stir. Emily was making a resurgence; a valiant effort to break out of the trap her mind had laid for her. The good that remained deep down fought to be free.

 

But the pit was too deep, and her remorse not yet great enough. The door slipped shut, and the light went out.

 

And in it's place, the dark whispered to her. You have not explored the power the dark side has to offer you. There are things about the Force you do not yet know. Quietus knows them. But he never shared them with you. Let him teach you. Take his knowledge. Become his superior. And then none will be able to stop you.

[Emily]

Having a plan gave Eris new vigor. She rose, immediately determining to put her ideas into action. And first on the list was something that being back here on Raxus Prime had reminded her of. Turning, she headed through the halls of the black spire down to the lower levels.

 

Her father had been an expert at the ancient skill of alchemy. It was through him that she had first begun to learn the language of the ancient Sith, something that she had worked hard at in order to communicate better with Roe'gall. Thankfully, all of his knowledge had not been lost upon his death. The temple here contained vast databanks of knowledge which John had supplemented with his own journals, papers, and notes. She had not made as much use of them as she might have had when she was a girl here, but now she intended to remedy that.

 

So when she ended up in the forge, she pulled out her datapad. Accessing directions, she took a chunk of raw ore in her hands. "Riinhit xinaghi oroswetha indiuaij," she said. Repeating the words of the Sith spell over and over, she drew on the Force and lit the furnace. The art of alchemy was a mix between skill in the Force and skill with your hands. She wasn't sure how well her first experiments would turn out, but she was determined to learn.

 

As she worked in the hot sweaty forge, time passed slowly. Her vigil was uninterrupted save for the occasional curious tuk'ata nose that was shoved into her line of sight. Slowly, her creations began to take shape. She poured the Force into them, and over time, her chanting became almost a song that the swing of her hammer punctuated. Wiping sweat out of her eyes, she plunged the ore into cold water, then reheated it and kept pounding. Over and over she repeated this process until many hours had passed.

 

Finally, she set her hammer down. There on the table lay five small, round, pointed objects. Each was about the size of her hand, multifaceted. Each one had five sharp points about the length of her fingers that branched off in all directions around the flat disk. They were objects designed to be hidden, then pulled out and thrown with deadly ferocity. She had taken the time to layer the edges with cortosis, a handy little ore that would make them able to short out a lightsaber if they came into contact with one. And in their hearts, mostly for decoration, she had embedded tiny gems, each a different shade. They were beautiful and deadly weapons, and she was rightly proud of her work.

 

Now, she just needed to learn to use them.

[Emily]

By the time she had spent several hours in the training room throwing her new weapons, she was drenched with sweat, but pleased with herself. The Force gave her an edge with the multifaceted weapons, allowing her to direct exactly where she wanted them to land, but she had forced herself to nevertheless learn to use them as if she was not a Sith Lady. She couldn't rival a professional, but she was decent, and that was good enough for her, as she never really expected to be using them in a situation where she'd be cut off from the Force.

 

Heading upstairs, she took a long shower, washing all the sweat from her body and rejuvenating herself. Toweling off, she stood for several moments naked in front of a long full-length mirror, examining her body with a careful scrutiny. There were things about her look that she didn't like--after all, she was a woman, and so would never be perfect in her own eyes. Her gaze was drawn to the imperfections--the small scar on the right side of her waist from who-knows-what, the puckering of skin on the back of her left calf that made up a small birthmark, the soft flab beginning to sneak into place on her thighs. The longer she looked, the more dissatisfied she became. Finally, she tore her gaze away and dressed herself, but not before a few treacherous thoughts crossed her mind. What is Quietus doing with a woman like me? There are many more beautiful women in this galaxy.

 

The thoughts disconcerted her on a deeper level. Why are we together? When she didn't have an immediate answer, she frowned. She knew how they had gotten together and why. But so much had changed since then. She wasn't even really the same person. So was it just habit then that was keeping them together? Sure, she supposed she missed him when he wasn't around. The thought of being with him could still send her heart racing. But that was just the spectacular sex. Surely, being in a relationship with someone meant something more. Didn't it?

 

Maybe it does for other people, but not for Sith. That was the conclusion she came to. She was aware now, looking back, that she had loved him at one time. But now she felt incapable of that emotion. She liked him, respected him, but that was about all there was to it. A sudden pang of sorrow caught her unaware, and she frowned again at her unruly emotions. It just can't be, she told herself firmly. Love is weakness. It puts too much value on others. Love is a candle in the darkness, pushing the darkness back. And as a Sith, I cannot sacrifice my power for anything, even love.

 

Well, perhaps it would illuminating to ask the question of Quietus next time she saw him. She rather hoped it would be soon. But the Force had led her on this path, and she was determined not to return until she had discovered who she really was. And if that meant them staying apart for some time, then hopefully it would make their reunion just that much more pleasurable.

 

For now, though, she was hungry.

[Emily]

As she finished with dinner, Eris' thoughts turned back on her new weapons. They were itching to be tried out. And frankly, she was ready to do something.

 

As she rose and headed to her quarters for the night, she pondered the feeling. It was...new, to be honest. But she welcomed it as a sign that she was truly becoming Sith. Quietus, she thought, would approve. That would be nice. She didn't need his approval, but her respect of him made her desire it. She almost chuckled aloud. It was just like she was a little apprentice again, following him around in awe and sometimes disapproval. She had been so naive. She understood now how everything he had done had been to better her. Really, a girl could not have asked for a better master, even if she hadn't seen it at the time.

 

That train of thought led her to remember the biggest thing she had held against him for so long. The anguish she had felt--emotionally as well as physically--when he had turned his back on her and allowed her to be killed had changed her. And even once she had learned to accept his actions, it had not been until recently that she had fully understood them. Of course, his reasoning had been faulty, but really, could she blame him? Now she saw it simply as a choice similar to the ones she had been wrestling with lately. He feared that he would grow to love her, and that she would be a burden keeping him from the full measure of power the dark side offered. It was the exact same line of reasoning that she had gone through when she had chosen to kill the fetus inside of her.

 

Suddenly, the implications of what she was thinking hit her and she almost staggered. She was convinced Quietus had been wrong to choose that. Even he had admitted it to her. But she had recently made the same decision, for the same reasons. Didn't that imply that she also was wrong?

 

She frowned and pushed the thought away. Best not think on that, Eris. She opened the door to her quarters and moved over to feed Roe'gall. Her thoughts, however, would not be derailed so easily. In an attempt to force them to, she latched on to the memory of the pain and betrayal she had felt when she had died. Those memories were good--they helped push back everything else until she could feel the stirrings of lingering anger inside her.

 

Suddenly, a wonderful, brilliant, amazing idea came to her. She had vowed, long ago, to get revenge on Terra and Delta, the two operatives working for Ar-Pharazon, for pulling the triggers that had killed her. But she had never bothered to track them down. A slow, wide, wicked grin spread over her face. Such a perfect little solution to her conundrum. She had wanted to try out her new weapons, and vengeance would be sweet.

 

She rubbed Roe'gall along the brow ridge. "Better eat up, Roe'gall. We're going hunting."

[Emily]

The key to her whole plan, however, clearly rested on the ability to track down two individuals in the vastness of the galaxy. She didn't want this hunt to take forever; indeed, she was starting to itch to get back to Quietus' side (as much as she would of course deny that fact if asked). This was, however, one moment where she was almost grateful for her Jedi training. The Jedi had spoken of letting the Force guide one's actions. While that was normally too passive an approach to be worthy of a Lady of the Sith, this was a time where she would concede to a higher authority. The Force could lead her right to those treacherous bastards.

 

Once the black tuk'ata was done consuming a massive pile of meat, she moved to the center of the living area while he paced, towering above her as she sat on the floor. Taking a few deep breaths, she closed her eyes and plunged into the maelstrom of the Force. It wasn't traditional Jedi meditation; she used her sense of anger and desire for vengeance as the plumb line to guide her thoughts. In fact, there was really nothing Jedi about it except in the fact that she had learned it from them and not from the Sith.

 

She fell deeper and deeper into the Force as she hunted. Thoughts and feelings called out to her, threatening to distract her, but she was more iron-willed than that. After about an hour, she suddenly had a vision. A ship traveling through space, being pulled out suddenly, and finding itself in the middle of a small scale battle over an unremarkable world. It was just a flash, but she knew without a doubt that if she could find that battle, she'd find who she was looking for.

 

She opened her eyes and rolled her shoulders. "Alright, Roe'gall. Now we're ready."

 

RIsing, she packed her few possessions and headed down to the hanger. Her time on Raxus Prime had come to a close. She didn't know honestly when if ever she would return, but this time, the thought came without bringing up any particular sense of emotion. If she came back in the future, fine. If not, then not. And minutes later, the Shadow's Shine blasted off the junk world of Raxus Prime.

[Robert McNamara]

Robert sighed as they exited hyperspace. This was going to cut into his time limit. Raxus Prime had been on the way, so that made their little assignment a tad loose in the time restrictions. Rubbing his temple- he scanned the viewport, his bright eyes narrowed and looked at the planet before them- Raxus Prime. A junk-heap. No doubt there were hidden treasures down there, buried in the layers of scrap. Another man may look down on this world and see only treasure. He thought- leaning forward and resting his head on the hands braced at the elbows. The sounds of muscles popping came from his jaw as he flexed it. With a short tsk-tsk- engines were at 95% burn rate, the shields were coming online, scanners sweeped for ion signatures and other traces of a starcraft's engine. The crew was early- as always- to the show. It was best to get there before whomever you may meet.

 

No engine signatures or traces of their remnant particles, no active fires either- as sign of something changing. The crew didn't break stride, they were a functioning team. After training, fighting, and patching each other's wounds- you start to know each other. So well that you know what pace the others do things at, and you don't even have to communicate out loud, you just know that person was going to do their job. Rarely the jabber was about work anyways. There was always a different plan though, cooly he said what was to be done- the scattering of automated drones that could only do four things. They worked like remotes, droids you could turn off and on. They released a half dozen and let them drift out into the debris around the planet. The remote droids quietly drifted into space and found their way to a bigger hunk of metal. Ghost's eyes were a fixed to his console- navigation- he was carefully turning the ship over/under/through the junk that floated around the planet.

 

He only hoped Raven didn't try and ruse the... pirates was the right term. Neither was smugglers. But they weren't exactly law abiders either. They were kind of like... rogues. Maybe? Robert and the gang were out for fun, adventure, and money. There was some satisfaction in doing the right thing... and money always helped them get around. Had the Alliance caught on? It was another thought that skipped across his mind. Like a rock skipping along the water. Inevitably the rock would lose it's speed- and sink.

 

Settling in a high-orbit, the men settled into shifts. Some slept, some ate, Robert remained though. While he was cautious- maybe borderline paranoid- he did hold out hope that Raven would be that- Raven. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what it was like to plop a hand on her head- she almost had buckled under the weight. The set jaw when her hair was a mess, and Robert had laughed. He wished, hoped, and prayed to whatever god would listen- that it was still her.

 

Even if you live through a war, there's a price that is exacted. Mental, or physical- it was rare anyone every made it through. So he wanted to be the first one to see her- greet her. Lisa recounted Raven's dealings on public record. Robert knew the record, but a little refresher wouldn't hurt.

 

He stood after a bit, some pacing to get the blood moving, but there he waited. The dark room was almost inextinguishable from the black of space in the powered down state of the vessel, but Robert knew the ship well. He waited, eyes fixed to the darkness and Raxus Prime, below.

[Raven Nasra]

Raven’s personal ship the Trigon’s Fury emerged from Hyperspace far above the junk world of Raxus Prime. It had been nearly a decade since she had seen her old friend, she was nervous, but she trusted the force. It had been a long time she had touched on that old power, since her mistress Tiana had still been alive. She wasn’t a scared twelver year old anymore. Now she had been a senator, a soldier, a dignitary. And here she was, finding her friend, a decade later.

 

 

Raven clenched her robotic hand which glinted faintly under her Imperial Fleet captain’s uniform. Pain from 14 years ago. a shattered arm, a disappointed mistress. No she did not miss that life at all. She straightened her collar and opened the Comm Frequency.

 

“Robert, if you are here, please inform me where you would like to meet.”

 

 

She glanced to the set of battleworn armour sitting in the locker beside the cockpit and grimaced. This could go very badly.

[Robert McNamara]

So, she did come- what appeared to by herself. Lisa confirmed a single ship, no other ships dropped out with her. Everyone had come back to the bridge. Adams and Spook had dawned their armor, Ghost was at the Engine controls- in a space suit. Phantom would have been in the engine room, while Hunter was off with his squad of tech- droids. Robert cinched his jacket, cleared his throat, and stood.

 

"You guys want to see our old friend?" Robert's gaze was on the view screen, the question was more rhetorical. Rigid and tall- irrelevant at this point. "Spook, give her the coordinates. Adams, she is in the zone, correct?"

 

Spook called out that the coordinates for Raven had been sent. Adams remarked that Raven was in the zone, within eyesight even. Lisa chimed that she was still tracking the surrounding area, with help from the droids they dropped. Ghost was looking at Robert, his hand on the controls to the engines. Eye contact with the comrade, and Robert nodded. The ship powered up and it started to move out from its hiding spot among the debris.

 

"Open comm channel to her." Slightly sifting his feet once, twice before speaking, Adam's gave him the thumbs up.

 

 

"Hello, Raven." A lighter tone came out and Robert's heart skipped a beat as he said her name. The one shining moment of his life- his former life- was in front of him. All grown up.

[Raven Nasra]

Long ago, over a decade in fact. She had been cramped in a drop pod alongside her friends. Hurtling at top speed towards a Rebel aligned capital ship. Packed armoured arm to armoured arm, praying that a stray turbolaser round did not sail through the bulkhead and turn everyone inside to fine particulate matter. At least that would have been the painless way to go. Not so much on the other side of the engagement. Raven grimaced as a red flash from a passing bit of debris triggered memories. Vicious hand to hand fighting over Coruscant, blood stained white armour, flashes of grenades, voices of the living and dying screaming through helmet comms, distorted enough to feel unreal. “Hello Raven” but always that voice had been there.

 

 

Calm commanding. Tough, but charming. Hearing it again shook her in her well polished boots. There was nothing like fighting and dying alongside someone. But when it happened, it was enough to make a soldier feel bound to life to the other. She suppressed the childlike giddiness that rushed up at the idea of seeing him face to face again and answered and she keyed her navicomputer to the coordinates.

 

 

“Hello Robert. Feeling better than when we last met I hope?”

[Robert McNamara]

Robert's face pulled up trying to remember. The last time he had seen her just before the Death Star, right? He shook his head from the thought. Alot had changed since then, the Death Star. Imperials had gone the side of the wayard drunk. Drifting from cantina to cantina without another thought. Robert and the guys werent like that. The had all been spit out inside the bombed-out Strider. Their home. Their ship. A lot of time and energy had gone into getting where they were now. Even the ship they were in took some effort to find, let alone run.

 

But- as Robert loved to find out- things always worked out. The ship, a Charger C70 retrofit on a Consular-Class cruiser only needed a few crew members. The survivor's of the 115th had made it work.

 

"Oh I feel fine, all of us are, in fact. But we are curious..." a soft sucking in of air from Robert. "Ahhh, I suppose that can wait until we meet in person. We can meet on the surface, or we can get the airlock prepped for you to come aboard. Either way works for us. I leave it to your best judgement, Senator."

 

There was no scorn or emphasis placed on her rank this time, now- it was uncalled for. Robert nodded to Adams and landing coordinates were sent to Raven's navcomputer of a landing spot big enough for both their vessels. The C70 silently coasted along a debris ring- keeping it's portside flank protected. The flight pattern was casual- at least enough to see that it was a pilot with some military background.

[Rookwood]

The spirit of this planet was as dark as its atmosphere, a hidden world of The Ancient Sith Order. With a black gloved hand, Rookwood toggled the Fyrebane’s atmospheric scanners, searching for the signal he had received a few days prior. His yellow eyes scanned the computer’s readings for signs of life, settling on a small signal within the equatorial asteroid belt in low orbit. As he made his approach, the Ranger switched to visual scanning to ascertain the location that he had been called to. Great chunks of long corroded garbage hung about the planet, a belt of filth stretching back through the time before recorded history. He settled his ship into low orbit around where the signal had its origin and strapped a breathing mask around his face, sealing for no atmosphere, just in case of a need for jettison

 

“Empress, my name is… Rookwood… and I have come to pledge my services to you.”

[Raven Nasra]

Raven signaled her acknowledgement and began the course to set up the docking rings to align. Raxus Prime, a Yellow-red orb surrounded by swirling rings of compacted garbage, destroyed ships, and rusted out hulks spoke to the past of the galaxy. Decades of war, restocking armouries, R&D, and upgrades left worlds full of retired vessels and garbage enough to fill an entire sector. If one could see the stories of the past, Raxus Prime was a library of lost souls. Raven could feel the eery sour taste of death haunting the edges of her heart. Why anyone would wish to come anywhere near here put her immediately on edge.

 

A second communication streamed through the cockpit and Raven smiled. Already there were people coming to the aide of the Empire. She toggled back on the Comm to Rookwood. “I appreciate your offer kind sir, but I must ask, who are you?”

 

A few minutes later the docking ports were aligned and Raven straightened her uniform. Making sure her blaster was slung tightly against her hip, she marched to the opening. Rapping her knuckles against the gangway she called out:

 

“Captain McNamara, permission to come aboard?”

[Robert McNamara]

"Track and monitor that ship." A snub fighter had come in through the debris- Robert called out, but knew Adams and Lisa were already aligning the scanners. The two expressed there was no threat- the guns on the frigate were capable of dealing with the new arrival- if it should be a problem. The crew intercepted the comm as Raven's ship moved closer. Robert gazed over the small, but possible threat- how did this... blip know about Raven and his meeting?

 

There it was- the Holonet broadcast. The man took a few deep- powerful- calming breaths. Cracked his neck to the side, and to the other. If this was her plan, he wasn't quite a fan, this certainly did not have the right process of steps. A vein in Robert's head pulsed. Of course. Of course.... just as soon as they start one of their most expansive campaigns, this would happen. Raven's plan. But, there was respect the company had for Raven. Mostly unspoken, but felt among them all the same.

 

After the two communicated- Raven brought her ship in a path that would dock with the 115. Robert noted it, and left Adams on the bridge- bolstered by Lisa- to monitor the other ship. Meanwhile- he, Ghost, Spook, Phantom, Hunter, plus Hunter's little tech squad. Two mouse droids and an R4 unit with some panels missing and some plasma scoring. Assembling at the air lock, they poised- sharp and at attention. Robert stood in front of the row- the airlock door down the hallway a few meters. The men were armed and wore their battle gear, but did not stand for fighting. More of a ceremony. Robert's feet were spaced just right, his right hand at his side- his blaster on a holster below it- and his helmet braced against his thigh with his left hand. Butterflies flew in his stomach- his knee even quivered for a moment. He was never this scared in a battle. Why was he now?

 

A knocking from the airlock door- Raven- she was asking for permission to come aboard. Robert knew camera's were on him- Adams and Lisa were watching him. Glancing side to side- he eyeballed everyone. With his eyes back towards the airlock- he nodded silently. A smile played on his face- almost hidden under his beard. The door slid open...

 

"Raven, Formerly of the Imperial 115th Drop Shock Squad, Formerly of the Galactic Senate, now- Empress of the Imperial Remnant- You have grown in life and spirit since last in each other's presence. We welcome you aboard." Robert's voice boomed down the hall and over the hissing of air from the newly pressurized room. A quarter bow from each of them- save the droids. It was unmistakable that they clinging to some ceremonial aspects- and that they were happy to see Raven. Each of them was curious though, especially Robert, as to what was going to happen next- would she ask them to give up their...well everything for her? Robert saw both sides of the picture now, the Jedi were the right choice in the long run. However- would they have the stones to settle matters- or surrender to the inevitable differences. Or with Raven now the de-facto leader- would there be some progressive changes from the young girl?

 

Was she ready for all this? Robert aimed to find out.

[Rookwood]

The voice of a young woman crackled into Rookwood’s tired ears. The hints in the voice was mysterious and dark, with a portion of prideful command which made the Imperial Accent something to adore. It was certainly the voice he had heard on the holonet

 

“I appreciate your offer kind sir, but I must ask, who are you?”

 

Kindness, politeness. The opposite of the Imperial curtness he had heard under Denton. A hunger gnawed within his chest. Rookwood keyed his comlink, powering down his weapon systems for the sake of not being blown out of the asteroid field by the other larger ships. His voice was strong, echoing his own hunger

 

“My name is Rookwood Oblivion, former leader of the Bittersteel Rangers. I feel your new Empire might be in need of a Ranger like myself. Do I have permission to come aboard?”

[Raven Nasra]

The walk to the other bulkhead door was one of the most frightening things Raven had done in quite a while. She had no idea what Robert believed nowadays, considering his current accommodations he even could be a pirate. The new head of state for the Imperial Remnant would keep a hefty price on the kidnapping market. Typing a quick response to Rookwood, she held her breath. After the knock, the door slid open and the booming voice echoed past her and brought a chill to her spine. There he was with his compliment of familiar faces. She crisply saluted them and bowed in turn. She walked forward to her old captain and extended her black gloved hand for a handshake.

 

“I am honoured to be recognized as an Empress by you my friend, it touches my heart. Though I believe the Empire should be beyond such titles As they echo to times long past in which the Sith held dominion. No one suffered more than our troops when that was the case. As I was elected by the Moff Council, Head of State will do just fine.”

 

 

She smiled brightly knowing that he would not enjoy any further trivial conversation and instead enjoyed getting right to the kriffing point, “I am so happy to see you all here again. I would like to extend the hand of the Empire to all of you. A new commission in the Imperial Navy, and a reinstatement of your pension. It would mean so much to me personally if you could return to service and glory in the New Empire.”

[Robert McNamara]

Adams watched the cameras as Raven came aboard- without incident. Good. he thought. Then he turned his attention over to the ship and it's pilot. Rookwood was it? With an inhale, he keyed the comm and opened a channel.

 

"Rookwood, my name is Adams, our ship only has one docking airlock.Come around to our starboard to match our speed and trajectory. Please stand by and await further instructions." Adams called into the comm- sensors were sweeping the area for debris collisions as well as any active weapon signatures.

 

~~~~~

 

Robert smiled like a child the whole time Raven spoke. At least, up until she offered all them money. It wasn't about the money at this point, they were doing fine by themselves. He knew the boys were with him, and they would follow his lead. The fact that all of them shared his smile was their approval of going along with whatever Robert decided. And he had seen this coming, but from Raven, this was backup.

 

Looking back to the crew, a silent nod- and they broke rank and made their way back to their stations. It was just them and a handful of droids afterall, no one as backup on their ship. They were needed elsewhere again. Helmet in hand, he gestured to Raven to walk down the hallway with him.

 

"Walk with me." Not a command, more of a no-option suggestion. As they turned, Robert broke out- "Before I say yes or no, I must ask you something. Well, three things. First, why are you splitting the Alliance you brokered in two? Second- what backing do we have? Third- do you think you can hold it all together? Fourth- Is this launching the Galaxy into another civil war?"

 

The reason, the support, the confidence, and the fallout. That is what Robert sought, he had faith in her. The questions were a test to figure out if she had faith in herself. Raven had been so nervous the first time they were shot out of the Strider and into another ship- she had grown, but he wanted to hear it for himself. Plus he had been on enough suicide missions not to board a sinking ship. There had to be enough backing to the separation that they could hold their own against the GA if necessary. He would get to her Jedi statement in a moment.

[Rookwood]

Rookwood toggled his comlink after listening to the new voice, one coming from the cruiser he was slowly orbiting. He matched the larger ship's speed and pulled to its starboard side. He was close enough to see the light carbon-scoring on the hull, paint chipping away under the stress of micro-meteors. The Ranger slipped his mind into the force, letting his sphere of control expand from himself, letting it feast on the surrounding microbes that could endure the stress of orbital vacuum. Drawing upon the lifeforce around him, the man settled the sphere of control about himself once more, letting his signature in the Force ebb away to nothing, satisfied.

 

"Matching speed, Adams"

[Raven Nasra]

"Walk with me."

 

Raven almost followed the command by instinct. She walked with him after a microsecond of hesitation she had missed him dearly. She nodded to him and smiled.

 

"Before I say yes or no, I must ask you something. Well, three things. First, why are you splitting the Alliance you brokered in two? Second- what backing do we have? Third- do you think you can hold it all together? Fourth- Is this launching the Galaxy into another civil war?"

She sighed softly before answering. “The alliance we established was good at first. When the Senate was still run in equal parts by ex imperials and ex rebels. We formed factions and openly communicated. However you should know that the interests of Ex Imperial Worlds were not given equal footing before the senate. They took the defense fleets and assigned them to only the core worlds, leaving even Kuat to fend for themselves against the endless waves of pirates.”

 

They continued through the corridors, their military style boots making the distinctive sound of heels on durasteel.

 

“We have the backing of the planets still controlled by the Moff Council, to name a few, Kuat, Carida, Oovo, and a few other main sectors. I cannot say it will be an easy journey.” She placed her thin hand on his shoulder, where for years he had worn the imperial crest. “I can hold it together, with your help. We signed this treaty it has provisions for leaving, I do not anticipat-”

 

She held her hand up. There was a darkness here. Only a few hundred meters away. A gnawing hunger. Sith. And then it was gone. Suppressed. She turned to Robert.

 

“The Sith, they are here. We must go now. NOW. We are in danger!”

 

Grabbing her commlink she toggled it to the signal she had been communicating with earlier to Rookwood.

 

"Leave us. We do not need you here. The Empire has broken from the influence of the Sith Lords."

 

Raven spun her hand around in a tight circle. An old imperial hand signal for a rapid evac.

[Rookwood]

"Leave us. We do not need you here. The Empire has broken from the influence of the Sith Lords."

 

Rookwood activated primary thrusters and angled an escape vector, a moment before engaging hyperspeed, leaving the new Empire with one last word projected through The Force, along with an all-devouring hunger

 

<>

[Robert McNamara]

Robert recognized the hand signal, and surely Lisa- who was monitoring via the security cameras would as well. She wouldn't spool up the hyperdrive without his authorization. However, she did know Robert with how much faith he placed in Raven. The girl- woman- was now on a level field, actually she was aiming to be Robert's new boss. The hyperdrive had been spooled since they first settled down into a low orbit. An emergency vector had been plotted- standard procedure- to accommodate for quick exits, should the need arise. Adams of course, knew all this as well. That is why he did try to keep the interloper close. But Rookwood- in the smaller craft had shifted through the debris with ease.

 

Raven said not to open fire- well, implied it- so they had let him go. While Robert did not agree, letting him leave, he did acknowledge the concerns from Raven.

 

Keying the bridge, Robert and Adams did touch base- and drop new programming orders to the drones they had in the system- and then engaged the hyperdrive, with the help of Lisa. They followed their escape vector and would jump several more times before settling into strict destination.

 

Raven's ship would be safe- it was secure- connected to the airlock it would travel with them. Feeling the slight shift in the deck plates- he knew they had shot to hyperspace. Silent listeners had been left behind with perfect camouflage. If Raven had wanted to avoid the Sith, and implied the connection between their visitor and them, it was a good thing they had monitored the situation.

 

The Death Star had made them all paranoid and rigid to covering their collective butts.

[Raynuk Montar]

The Cult of Morthos had operated for far longer than anyone could have realized, but everything they did was ususally relegated to the secretive, covert dealings in the shadows and on the fringes of society. They were eternally patient at times, rooting their way into and through countless organizations and groups; The Sith, the Jedi, the Hutts, Black Sun, even the Galactic Alliance and Imperial Reminent had been touched by the Cult and their hidden members. Simply put, they made it their business to ensure that even their existence was deniable, let alone their plans and actions. But every so often, the Cult had to take more drastic approach to achieve its goals, one which required more than a collection of robed members with compartmentalized information. And that was when a group of hardened loyalists like Azron and his squadron were brought in; this time targeting Raxus Prime.

 

The trip from Korriban would have normally been a fairly short trip, but the nature of the cult made it necessary to do things in such a way that best hid their movements and intentions. For this reason, the shuttle made several jumps, diverting to Rhen Var and then Thalassia before arriving at Raxus Prime. The 'long way around' path had given Azron the chance to study the layout of the Sith Temple that the one known as John Skywalker had built in the midst of the industrial wasteland planet. The 100-story obsidian tower would be hard to miss amidst the planet that was little more than a junkyard. Finding it would not be a problem, but successfully accessing the temple was the hard part. The longer travel time also allowed him to adequately prepare the squadron that traveled with him for what they would be walking into. Noghri guards and a complex defense grid were the two main hurdles they would have to deal with, and Azron and the squadron commander werent going to take any chances.

 

Luckily the detour allowed Azron to request further help given all the information he had brought together for the assault. When the shuttle arrived in orbit over Raxus Prime, there was already an old, beat up T-6 shuttle waiting for them. On board was another two squadrons of soldiers that were similarly armed as the group Azron was with. Together, both ships descended down to the planet, using the most common routes down to the planet in order to remain inconspicuous, while also selecting one that would bring them in close enough to the temple for their needs. With no trouble on the decent, the two shuttles peeled off near the surface and traveled closer towards the temple. When they got near, Azron put the first steps of his plan into motion.

 

The temple that stood before them had indeed been built by John Skywalker and given extensive defenses. But John had not been the only resident of the temple; his wife, Sirvani Zsahra, adopted mother of Emily, was almost always there along side John. The two would receive guests and visitors many times during their stay within the temple, and one of those guests was Alora, the very Sith that had been a 'guest' of the Cult of Morthos for a very long time in stasis. Long enough, to learn a great deal about the Sith mistress, including the fact that Sirvani had been the woman's best friend. As the shuttles neared, Azron had his female pilot contact the security station for clearance to land in the hanger, standing not far behind her to ensure she stayed on script.

 

"This is Alora Darkknell, friend of the late Lady Zsahra, requesting emergency clearance for two shuttles to land. We are on the run from a group of pirates that seeking to bring us in for the bounty on Force Users and require shelter."

 

Azron was impressed with the balance of poise, concern, and sense of expedience that the pilot had managed to put into her performance. A few scant moments later, a rough voice returned, "Lady Darkknell, we are not showing you on a registered ship..."

 

The pilot turned to Azron, who simply nodded firmly, holding up a fist as a sign to remain firm before producing a datapad and typing on it before holding it up in front of the pilot.

 

"Why the hell would I be flying around on a ship registered to a Sith, especially one familiar like the Sundered Heart?! Didnt you hear me? Theres a bounty on Force Users! Now open the damn doors! Unless you'd like to explain to your Mistress why you refused entrance for fellow Sith!"

 

There was another moment of silence before the rough voice spoke again. "Very well Lady Darkknell, as you wish. Welcome to the temple. I will send someone to greet you and show you into the temple."

 

Azron put the datapad back, and simply smiled; They were in. Without hesitation, the pilot surged the ship forward, the T-6 shuttle following close behind as they passed through the invisible barrier that made up the defensive perimeter, and eventually flew into the hanger and began their landing procedures. Azron had informed the three squadrons of soldiers to prepare, so that by the time the ships had settled, they were but a gesture away from flooding out and into the temple. As the ramp lowered, Azron was the first -- and only -- passenger to disembark the shuttle. He saw a trio of Nohgri approaching from the direction of the temple itself. They all stopped however once they saw Azron, his hood again pulled low as he walked with his head bowed.

 

"You are not Lady Darkknell!" The lead creature said in its rough voice much like the one on the comm. It turned to its companions out of confusion before setting its feet and looking back to Azron.

 

"No. I am not." Those were the only 4 words he spoke before snapping his fist up next to his head, a clear sign to the squadron commander that was waiting at the top of the ramp. On Azron's mark, the commander charged down the ramp in three steps, and planted three blaster bolts into each of the Nohgri, the first on each landing squarely between their eyes. The three corpses had barely hit the ground before the squadron commander was on his short-wave comm, and the rest of his squadron emptied from their ship. Likewise, the other two squadrons from the T-6 shuttle were filtering out and forming up. 28 individuals, all but one of them dressed for combat, made their way to the entrance of the Temple, stepping over the bodies of the Nohgri as though they were little more than rocks.

 

The Cult of Morthos would have what it wanted.

[Raynuk Montar]

Four hours had passed since the Cult of Morthos made its overt and uncharacteristically violent incursion upon Raxus Prime. Together with the support of the three squadrons of soldiers at his back, the cultist known as Azron had cut his way into the depths of the Temple that had been built by John Skywalker. Along the way, the soldiers had done exactly what they were brought here to do; neutralize the threats posed by the Nohgri caretakers, as well as the temple itself.

 

There was no doubt that the Nohgri had the potential to be fierce warriors; it was the main reason they had always been used as bodyguards and assassins by various organizations. But the ones that resided here in this temple, had grown soft. Deprived of true conflict over the years to keep their skills effectively sharpened, and cut off from the rest of the galaxy, they had been relegated to the role of servants; maids, butlers, gardeners, and janitors. To a point Azron felt sorry for the creatures, but they stood in the way of the Cult of Morthos, and for that there was no salvation to be had. So, it was that most the Nohgri that were within the temple that attempted to defend it, found themselves on the business ends of three squadrons of cultist soldiers. There were, of course casualties among the soldiers too, but for the most part they proceeded unabated, leaving a far superior number of Nohgri dead in their wake.

 

Azron had fearlessly lead the way through the temple despite possessing no weapon or armor, trusting the soldiers that flanked him implicitly/ And that trust had yielded dividends as every hostile that rounded a corner or had posted up to defend a point were swiftly cut down by the soldiers. Before too long, Azron found himself standing at a set of massive doors, ones that according to the map one of his squadron commanders was holding for reference, lead to the massive library that contained all the knowledge that Skywalker and his family had collected. He instructed one of the squadrons to make their way back to the ship, and to collect the floating storage containers that were sitting in the cargo areas. They were to secure the path and bring the containers here, an order they followed without question.

Turning his attention back to the doors with a cocky grin, Azron pushed open the doors to the library that was buried deep within the temple. The Nohgri who had been serving as the librarian was quick to his feet with a snarl at the intrusion of beings he did not recognize, but the soldiers’ triggers were faster, cutting the alien down with a small hail of blaster fire. Azron continued walking forward, his hands clasped before him, his hood sitting high on his head. He stepped over the librarian without a second glance, taking its position at the main terminal as the soldiers swept and cleared the rest of the library, finding no one else.

After a minute searching through the database, Azron finally spoke, directing one of his remaining squad commanders to take his men to look for specific sections of the library that contained physical books; “Rituals”, “Prophecies”, and “Legends”. Once the squadron had found it and reported back, Azron nodded.

 

“Gather it all. The Masters will want everything.” He commanded, before turning back to the terminal to dig through the digital archives, which were much more substantial. While the squadron began taking the books off the shelves and piling them up to be placed into the soon to be arriving storage containers, Azron began downloading the databases that existed within the same three topics, switching out the physical data disks when they became full. One of his soldiers’ approach brought Azron’s attention up from the screen as the man spoke.

 

“Lord Azron, we found a section nearby that seems to contain combat techniques for the Sith. The Commander thinks it might be of use to take those as well? In case we meet with resistance from Force users?” The soldier said, sounding like he knew he was walking a fine line by questioning their orders and suggesting things.

 

The robed man considered for a moment, before nodding. “The Masters will see the merits of learning how the Sith approach combat for our future goals. Yes, grab those as well.”

 

The soldier nodded in turn and ran off to return to the rest of his squadron as Azron returned his attention to the databases. He would likewise take everything that the computers had on combat techniques as well. What he found was descriptions of all seven Forms of Lightsaber combat, including notable uses through history as well as current users on both sides of the Force. He also came across battle plans and formations from when the Sith ruled as an empire ad specific notes on combat taken from notes written by various Sith.

 

By the time the soldiers returned with the storage crates and began loading the countless books they had secured, Azron had likewise collected at least seventeen data disks worth of information from the temple’s database. Five more minutes saw the books they were taking all packed into the storage containers, which were then secured closed, with Azron’s digital collection likewise being packed into a box. They had everything they had come here for, and now was the time to make their escape.

 

Or at least, that was the plan until one of the squadron commanders received a message from the shuttle pilots, and hurried over to Azron.

 

“Lord Azron, the shuttles report a ship incoming; the defense grid was lowered remotely.” The commander said, a hint of worry in his voice.

 

“What kind of ship?” Azron asked warily, before signaling for the group to continue on their path.

 

“Scanners show a… Light Freighter, YT-1930 they say.” The commander reported, the voice of the shuttle pilot faintly heard from his earpiece.

 

Azron silently nodded for a moment, as that was not the ship type he had been worried about. He had been warned that this location might be where the fugitives from the Cult’s operations on Korriban had fled to, but they had been aboard a J-type Nubian Yacht. And that ship was neither seen in the landing bay, nor was it the ship that was on approach.

 

“We will adapt. Make haste and load our prizes first, and then we will see what these new arrivals are all about.” Azron commanded firmly.

 

The group heightened their pace, walking faster through the temple as they made their way back to their shuttles. They ran into six more Nohgri on the way back, stragglers who thought wrong that they would be the hero of the temple’s defense. All of them were proven wrong. The closest one had gotten to being more than a speedbump had ended up with a serrated knife plunged through its head between the eyes; courtesy of a squadron commander after the Nohgri had managed to fell two of his soldiers.

 

When they did indeed reach the shuttles, the storage containers were loaded first, equally split among the three shuttles, which were left to appear empty from the outside, as if they were simply parked there. If this was indeed the subjects that escaped from Korriban, or the ones who aided them, Azron would ensure that they were recovered. When the freighter landed, whoever was on board would see only the three shuttles parked there, as Azron and his followers had made themselves scarce.

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

As the Traitor's Hope made its approach to John's Temple, Jaina observed an uncanny valley between the present appearance of the familiar places in the planet's landscape, degenerating industrial wasteland, and the way it had appeared more than two decades prior. But even the deteriorating landscape couldn't remove the pang in Jaina's gut when the familiar obsidian tower came into view.

 

She expertly navigated the ship into the opening at the base of the tower, the expansive hangar large enough for a fleet of small personal-use ships. At present, the only ships moored here were a handful of nondescript shuttles and a few single-occupant snubfighters: mostly A-wings, but a few TIE fighters were also represented. An uneasy feeling began to leak into Jaina's senses at the lack of acknowledgement. She wasn't exactly expecting a welcoming party, but the utter silence contrasted sharply with the mental image that kept returning to mind; Andon and Emily, playfully skirting around the industrious groups of Noghri who took care of the Temple in its owners' absence.

 

Powering down the ship, Jaina opted to leave everything on standby, ready for quick reactivation. Without knowing what could have happened to the Temple or its occupants in the last two decades, she didn't want to take any chances. Emily had said in her comm that her parents had died a long time ago--was the uneasiness Jaina felt simply related to that? Or the other ghosts this place held for her? Whatever the case, we'll be ready, she thought to herself. Plodding back to the crew quarters, she pressed the controls wired to the door latch, and it hissed open. She pulled her bag off of her unused bunk and took its place, sitting to pull her boots on, as Xae and Tirzah were gathering their things.

 

"Ready to go?" she asked, the question directed to both of them, but eyeing Tirzah. The odd tumult she had felt in the girl's emotions hadn't abated. If anything, it had intensified.

 

Her gaze flickered to Xae. I need to talk to her before we go out there, she told the auburn-haired woman through the Force. There are some things she should know.

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

Tirzah inwardly switched between silent brooding and grudging acceptance of what she'd overheard, getting little actual rest during the remainder of their trip.

 

Jaina. Andon. My parents...or...at least how I got here...

 

Her thoughts tumbled over one another as she'd given up on getting more sleep and instead joined the Jedi Master Ardel Then something she remembered Tares saying about Jedi and families being forbidden. Was it possible that Jaina had been made to give her up in order to return as a Jedi?

 

If that was the case, why did it seem that Xae-Lin had allowed Tirzah to come along with her and Jaina on their relic hunt? The other Jedi seemed to make her own way in a manner much different from the other Masters Tirzah had been around up until that point.

 

Is it possible Jaina and my father had no choice? If that was true then what did it say about the Order that they'd order someone like her to be abandoned?

 

Was my father a Jedi, too? What is Jaina that she would know some one with the title 'Dark Lord'? Every answer seemed to lead to a hundred more questions, and, if she was being honest with herself, Tirzah wasn't really sure she felt like speaking with Jaina, Xae, or anyone right then. All of them had to have known and none of them had been willing to tell her.

 

No, for now, it was easier to pretend to forget what she'd heard, and she didn't bother to acknowledge when she heard and sensed Jaina walk into the room to announce their arrival.