As I enter into the Dining Hall, I am once more stricken by a sense of deja vu, for the scene is reminiscent of another day when we had all collected here to pit our minds against our adversary. A drop of sadness comes into my eyes; then I had truly believed that the restoration of the Sith would eradicate all sorrow within my breast; how was I to know the dark and twisted path we would then tread upon?

I approach the others, and come to a halt before Lord Recinis. My hand reaches out to clasp his wrist about the Tattoo of Titlement; his repeats the gesture as we once more reaffirm our connections with each other and recognition of our duties to our peoples.

For in the end, that is all that matters, after all.

"I have gone to Phrinnchatka in their night," I say simply, stepping back and casting a glance around to encompass all. "Even now my son undertakes the procedure to see if our new friend here is who he was indeed informed that he was."

I pause a moment, then continue with a slight nod of my head in SerKe's direction.

"It has come into my thoughts that if he was indeed cloned of Kri'faxx blood, and SerKe Kri'faxx he truly is, then that is the fact we must accept. Perhaps the mystery of his being may one day be ascertained; I have already determined that no other Kri'faxx bearing the name SerKe existed in all of Sith history other than the nephew of our fellow Dark Lord of the Sith."

I now move to the food-laden sideboard, and set about preparing a plate for myself that I might break my fast. For it has been long since I have last eaten, and I am aware that a fed mind is a keen one. Yet even as I place food items upon the plate made of our wondrously iridescent Sith metal, I cock my head to the others.

"It may be that he existed after Aeylmaar and I were killed four thousand years ago; this, of course, cannot be proven by any other means than returning to that time, or at least to one prior to when my peoples have been brought here, and at that point seeking particular knowledge of it in the Great Library. Whether this is something we really need spend the energy upon, though, is yet to be seen.

"We have, after all--" I turn now, plate in hand, and come to once more stand in front of my Brother.

"--other items of much greater consideration on our plates at the moment."

I fall into a somewhat brooding silence with that, and with slow bites start eating that which I have taken for myself. For some reason the food is suddenly tasteless upon my tongue, and sits in an equally tasteless lump in my stomach.

“I mentioned to Graysith that perhaps the Book of Ages can shed light on Serke’s situation,” she commented. “But as she mentioned, I do not even know if the book is yet in our keeping, or if Freedon Naad took it with him wherever he has made off to.”

She paused at that, wondering just what had happened to Freedon Naad now that his true Sith-self was back.

He’s probably FINALLY found his true body. Fates be with him that he has, anyway.

Then, “As for Roan, I think we’d best act soon. The longer he has with the Sith, the harder it will be for us to convince them that he is not all he claims to be. He’s a master manipulator; we know from our experience he’s well-versed in the arts of making people believe things in order to accomplish his objectives. He will do the same with the Sith, most likely manipulating them to strike against any who would oppose him. He might even lead them to believe that he should be the sole ruler of the Sith, since it was his plot that eventually brought them back. We simply have to confront him, and lead the Sith people on to the truth that he truly intends to rule over them with an iron fist...”

Quietly she rose to her feet.

"You speak over your head, Shayla!" she said in a low tone of voice. "For we are now with the Sith, and of them; there are protocols to be followed, and ranks of heirarchy.

"This is subject for the Dark Lords' table; when question they have, then question they will ask. And to answer your question: the Tattoo upon our wrists, Recinis's and mine, reveals to all who is true Dark Lord of the Warriors. For on whose wrist is it blackened, and on whose does it rival the gleam of the finest gold?

"But... this shows true Lord only in the eyes of those who would still follow the ways of the Sith. Which Roan, undoubtedly, no longer does because of his renouncement of his race and his heritage."

Now she turned a bit, to face Recinis.

"It is quite obvious he would lead them alone, or with those of his own choosing; what is not so obvious is the question of just who it is he will lead. Who will follow him? He is on the sister planet, the world of the warriors. Warriors are a bloodthirsty lot, but do have honor among them. If he has swayed them...."

She fell silent then, cutting her gaze from Recinis and into the eyes of her adept, before finally letting them linger on Lord Aelvedaar and his son.

"It may not matter that he is pretender, even though we can easily prove it. True, this is all but dire speculation, but...

"Have the Sith returned, only to face the terrible prospect of civil war?"

His head turned slowly to lord aelvedaar, "brother... Had Roan found a Lady to stand at his side in this time? could it be that that has driven him this path..."

He trailed off then and returned to his thoughts.
Does it matter? what is done is done... But then, could this help us, even remotly?

Again his thoughts trailed, and in his blank frame of mind his eyes moved to Serke, again pondering the mans existance...
Suddenly he reached out to aelvedaars mind, "Brother... Could 'serke' be... Of roans blood? a plot of roans sent here, without his own knowledge? Perhaps roan traveled to a time when his son was older, and took the infomation to clone? then hired someone to wait untill this date... And give him the false information? I am unsure, but i do not wish to leave any stone unturned..."

then his thoughts once more turned outward, his eyes turning upon Jharu's, "my son... Always remember, even the smallest possiblity, is still a possibility... And even the impossible, should not be over looked..."

Thus it is I now speak aloud, that all present may hear and consider and offer input.

"Indeed, my Brother," I begin, a small smile curling my lips to see the sudden startlement of those present. I capture a certain pair of violet eyes with my own, assuring her that her defense of me and mine was indeed the correct choice for her to make...

...but at that time. And Time progresses onward.

"There was a Lady in Roan's life, to be sure: his wife, the Lady Kreesha Roan, taken unto his side the day he underwent his acceptance rites into Dark Lordship of the clan. A fiery wench she was... and indeed, is; a warrior herself, one of the few of our woman to ever hold that profession. And quite skilled, as I recall.

"While at the time he took her as but chattel to him, perhaps it indeed is she who had tempered his darkness with the love that he needed to uphold his mastery of the All."

I pause again, now thinking of the possible connection to Serke. My eyes slide slowly into his; he stands in silence off to one side, listening, waiting... and I cannot help but wonder, planning?

...but then what...? Think, Shayla. Roan is currently at least viewed as the Dark Lord of the Warrior Clan, and Kreesha the Lady of the Warrior Clan. So then what...?

Shayla’s thought processes suddenly came to a forced halt as logic dictated the answer.

They are the Dark Lord and Lady of the Warrior Clan. But they have no heirs...

...yet.

Finally, Shayla spoke up. “If in fact Lady Kreesha is the one whom Roan loves with such passion that he can achieve balance in the All, his actions will be driven out of his love for her. After all, he has done everything in his power to bring the Sith back and therefore bring her back to life no matter the risks. Knowing what his actions are driven by may help us uncover what his next move may be; with the consideration that she too is a Warrior I would think that he would make her his equal and ensure that they have heirs to continue their legacy.”

"The only productive use this knowledge serves us is that if indeed a great love such as this is what keeps him mastered in the All, then the only way to defeat him would be to turn him against his Lady. Remember, all is speculation; I do not know if such a thing is possible among the Sith."

She paused a moment, slipping an arm into her husband's.

"I only know that nothing would sway this Lady from the side of her Lord; such thoughts are foreign to me.

"But if such a thing were possible, how would it be done?"

She fell silent then, wondering just how else this possibility could be used to their advantage, hoping that these peoples against whom so much tragedy had been enacted would not have to bear upon their shoulders the dishonorable spectre of civil war...

His mind was reaching out and taking in everything through those eyes, hungrily devouring everything that was said or implied, using the best aspect of a pervect pupil...
[i]We want to persaude the sith... how can they be turned from roan though? if they are loyal to him, that will be hard to break...[i]

Finaly he spoke up not sure of what he was saying but hoping somethign would come out in a manor which made sense. "if we want them to see the truth... Then why not show it to them?

I may not be the oldest, or wisest here... But the truth is always simply the truth... if roan wanted to sway them to keep loyalty with him, then he did not show them the truth, for the truth about him is a horrible thing...

She smiled to herself and curled about him in a relaxed manor, tracing a little scribble on his chest...

Finaly she pulled herself to his face, awaking him with a strong, demanding kiss...

With hima wake she gave him a small nipp before locking her lips in his and pulling even closer, unconciously pulling the soft covers about them to add to the strange unity...

Finaly she pulled away from his lips and kissed his ear gently before whispering... "i have noticed my lord... But i do not fear that our subjects will find out of whatever has happend to remove the mark from your wrist... Instead, we must be stronger..."

he tongue crept out slowly to trace the edges of his ear before her arms wrapped about him and she continued softly, "My lord, I will be honest, i want to hold the power you have found in your endevers... she held it, i want to as well... Please my lord... You must teach me..."

She sighed a slight pure, and allowed her hands to roam gently accross his chest, "i promise to be a deticated student..." with her words done she brought him into another fierce kiss...

She paused, then continued on, hoping her point was coming across. “We also have to keep in mind that an action percieved as “bad” by one person, one group, can be percieved as “good” by the other so long as it achieves its goal. While we think what Roan did is horrible, and that he is a very evil being, the Sith will possibly see all he’s done as “good” because in the end he did manage to bring them back from death.”

Again she paused, this time pursing her lips as she tried to gather all of her thoughts into one final statement. “We aren’t going to be able to prove to the Sith that Roan is bad based on what has happened in the past, because that can be viewed in varying lights,” she stated then. “I’m afraid they will have to see it for themselves...”

"My Lady is second to none other," he purred in his deep bass voice. "True, the mother of the spawn I had to create does hold the power our sorcerers long had discovered... and even longer yearned to hold. If she holds it, given by Lord Aelvedaar to implement the Final Destiny...

"... then my Lady shall have this as well."

He paused a moment, his grip now tightening about her silken flesh. For a long moment he merely stared deeply into her eyes; then his head tossed back against the pillows, and a roar of delight escaped his lips in response to the look he saw flaring within their bi-colored depths. He quieted then, bringing his face to meet hers even as he removed one strong arm to pluck a t'plikk fruit from a bowl upon a nearby nightstand. Bringing it up before her, he thrust his thumb's claw deeply into it, instantly marring its otherwise pristine surface and sending moist juices running freely from the wound.

"Tell me, my Lady," he purred, craning his neck so that his tongue could caress her cheek.

She was not stupid... it could not be as simple as it appeared to be... But what was there beside the obvious?

Quietly she reached out and took hold of the fruit, licking away the jucies from about her lords thumb and turning to look at him, "My lord... I see only fruit being pierced by your strong grasp... And of course... A chance to sedate my hunger..." As she spoke her tongue crept out to remove a bit of the juice remaining on her lips.

How completely and utterly had he failed to see the point of that lesson.

It still rankled.

Another dark shadow flitted through the depths of his eyes, and he abruptly disentangled himself from the blankets and his mate's trailing arms. Sliding smoothly from the bed, he approached a particular set of heavy draperies. A great thrust of one arm and they opened, revealing the waning night which lay upon the city below.

He stood there a moment, frowning down into the quiet Phrinnchatka, struggling with himself. Warrior he was, not a teacher. Then, without turning about, he continued.

"What would you do with this destroyed fruit?" he said at last, then whirled abruptly to stare directly into Kreesha's flashing eyes.

She let them linger there for a long moment.

"All that has been said has made me realize: it is not so much whether or not the Sith view Roan as good or evil," she said softly, a sad little smile coming to her face. "It is the fact that we know he is, and that a great danger he remains. His most dire threat to us -- and to the Sith, and indeed, perhaps to the Galaxy in general, for although I am not certain I cannot help but sense that his plans are far-reaching -- is that he controls the All. None other among the Sith do so with the exception of my Sire-"

Here she paused in mid-speech, turning to Lord Aelvedaar and letting her eyes gaze calmly into his volcanic ones before she bowed her head in homage to him.

"And myself," she finished. "It is true that my son is beginning to learn of this power, for it is inherent in him. But consider this, my allies and friends."

Again she paused, pursing her mouth in distaste before forcing herself on. "Master Rean controlled the All while he lived... as Roan does. My Sire does. In the case of myself and my son, this power was "given," was emplaced whether by the magicks of the Sith or by simple inheritance. But in the case of the original Triad, it was learned. What was learned may be taught.

"I shudder to think that Roan would teach his warriors how to use this strength... and then use it to gain his own foothold in the galaxy. This must not happen; it must not be allowed. If I can think of this, so can he; we must consider that this is something he is planning on doing.

"He must be stopped before he can gain the slightest foothold.

"Now."

Once more she paused, casting her gaze around to all those she held so very dear. Then she quietly rose to her feet, holding up before her the hand bearing the Claw of S'slan. She stood quietly for a moment, drinking in all who were present there, the smile on her face growing even more melancholy.

"I love you all," she whispered...

...then before anyone could move, she opened up a portal through the All...

...and stepped forth into the Temple of the Warriors in the middle of the sleeping Phrinnchatka.

In the Temple in Phrinnchatka....

It was as if she were following a brilliant light. Somehow she had known, deep down within her very psyche, from the moment Roan had taken her those terrible times that he had, that it would come to this. Her feet flew noiselessly across the cold stone floors of the temple as she traversed corridor and passageway, somehow avoiding the presence of any other Sith who might be wandering there. Keeping to the shadows, she flitted along as one, an unerring link somehow kept alive between herself and Roan leading her to the rooms he had chosen to be his own.

At length she found those quarters, and came to a halt before the ornately carved door. She paused there a moment, girding her strength.

Then she stepped in, calmly, walking steadily, the flaring Glyph on her forehead lighting the way.

Before her: Roan was staring out a great arched window. A flaxen haired female Sith lounged upon a great and luxurious bed, holding a fruit in her hand. Both whirled to face her, stunned by her sudden presence there.

The female leapt from the bed, lithe as a panther. Roan frowned, then bared his teeth and began stepping toward her.

"No," said Graysith, and held up the Claw.

Then before either could so much as blink, she made a mysterious move with that Claw-bearing hand, and even as the great Dark Lord was raising his own hand in preparation of summoning that magnificent power for defense, she opened a portal into the Elseness...

And transported both herself and Roan into it.

Once there, she committed them further by raising a chronotic shield around them.

Behind them, the portal snapped closed even as the Lady Kreesha was making a desperate lunge to reach it.

Hidden in the Elseness, secured beneath the shield, the Chosen Daughter turned to Ankrist Roan. A small tremor raced through her; then she firmed.

"No one may drop that shield other than the one who erected it, unless it is for the good of all," she said quietly.

"Until you deign to alter your views, we remain here together... for eternity, if need be."

She fell silent then, the Clawed hand raised in preparation of fending off attack, but made no movement other than this. And before her suddenly moisture-laden eyes, the image of Roan gradually segued into that of another imposing Sith, a true and honorable warrior, one whom she knew could now lead his people in the glorious tradition they once held more than four thousand years in the past, as he was meant to do the moment the tattoo flared in golden affirmation upon his wrist.

She let her eyes slide to her own tattoo.

My love, you are not gone from my heart....

”Noooooooooo!!!!!!!!” she moaned, not completely aware that she had even said a word. For a long moment she said nothing more but simply stood in terrified silence, pining to reach out and help and somehow yearning to do so. If anyone was trying to console her or reacting in any other way, Shayla didn’t notice it. Finally, with great effort, she forced the lump that was her heart back down in her throat, and closed her eyes a moment, seeking clarirty admist her rampaging emotions. When she opened them again, she had succeeded...

...mostly.

She turned to Lord Aelvedaar at last and spoke, her words quiet but certain, underlaid with deeply-rooted concern and a sort of undying devotion. ”Please send me to her to assist in whatever way possible...

As adept, as sister, and as a friend...”

Led by pure hate, Lo-Ban found himself searching for those who had hurt him...

It did not take him long to reach his destination... his dark powers easily allowing him to hone in on the two...

His ship landed near the Temple of the Sorcerers...

He entered the temple, just waiting... no, asking anyone to challange his power... or keep him from his path...

A path lead by pure hate...

...to find it suddenly snipping in twain by the ominous presence of a chronotic shield. And in those even briefer fractions of a second prior to that closure, I am stricken by the utterly vast non-ness of that indescribable place that exists between one second and the next....

"It is too late," I say succinctly, my heart growing into the size of a boulder in my chest, and laying there equally as heavy. I sense out further... and slam into a raw wall of pure rage.

But I do not find His signature, no matter how hard I seek. The boulder grows to epic proportions as realization strikes me an even harder blow.

"She- she has taken Roan into the Elseness, and has hidden them both beneath a chronotic shield," I whisper, fighting to remain strong for my own chosen son, for Her son, for her Adept....

For myself.

I open my mouth to continue... but stop. Even as I pull back from that white-hot anger at the end of my sensing out... it is to impact into another nearly as strong and determined.

One much closer to us, here in the Temple.

"Someone comes this way," I whisper and fall silent, waiting, one hand raised in preparation for who and what might come. There is something familiar about the signature of the one who now approaches; I frown as in seeking through my own memories I place a name to that rage.

“Switch me with her,” she said at length, unable to think of anything else at that moment.

Beside her she could literally feel Erik’s look of concern, completely understanding why he felt as he did. Her own stomach seemed to bunch in little knots, twisting and untwisting in seeming randomness...

Shayla frowned then as she realized what she was sensing was more than her horror and concern for Graysith; something else was knawing at her, very nearly slamming into her. She sensed out, easily finding a wall of pure hate coming from Loban Kenobi.

Once more Shayla frowned, recalling the way he had departed from the Stargazer, recalling how he ignored her request that he return to them after telling Erik that he could “have her” then whaling him right between the eyes, knocking him over.

Turning from these thoughts, Shayla looked up into the molten eyes of the Sorceror, relating to him the conditions of Loban’s sudden departure from their party...

...as well as her sudden fear that Loban might be returning to seek revenge for a wounded heart...

She doesn't even recognize me?! More interest in that... WOMAN....

He now sensed the look between Shayla and her husband...

Words cannot express what he felt next, but he was no longer walking toward the two, he was now levitating... his powers growing the closer he came, almost feeding off Shayla and Eric's own force senses...

Closer and closer he came...

Less and less Lo-Ban Kenobi he was...

Now entering the room, he focused on the two he had finally found...

Not only was he still levitating, his ora began to spew dark force lightning...

His arms flew into the direction of each of them, and lightning came forth... encompassing their bodies, they too left the ground...

He spoke without movement from his lips, in the lowest demonic voice imaginable,"You are the accused... I am judge, jury... and executioner... the verdict, guilty... the punishment... death...."

"What say you?" He ended with, and waited... with limited patience...

No. Absolutely not.

The Mother deep within her shot out in protection, and she did the only thing she could at that moment to divert such a direct attack on she, her husband, and her child. Despite any pain she might be feeling in response to the Force lightning, she strove for everything within her to reach out and touch that energy which was the Force. In that moment, a blast of Force shot forward from her, slamming into the levitating Loban. He clearly wasn’t expecting such retaliation, for the blast took him off guard. Immediately he, Shayla, and Erik all fell to the ground, where Erik scurried to her side, concern rampant on his features. Her guard now completely up, Shayla finally spoke a reply to Loban.

“You endanger the innocent with your anger,” she growled, drawing the Force about herself and her husband protectively. Then she recalled a day, back in Prinn’chatka, when Loban had reacted in much the same way...

....but then it had not truly been him.

Was this the case now, or had Loban truly stepped over into the Darkside?

“Search inside yourself, Loban Kenobi,” Shayla stated. “This is not you, but is that Evil that links you to Tyberius seeking for a voice once more as it did in Prinn’chatka when you nearly killed Lord Recinis...”

His eyes were pure white, as his pupils disappeared behind his rage...

The more energy the two put into their defenses, the stronger Lo-Ban's powers grew...

Where one could not imagine a rage more intense... it increased ten-fold, when he realized what it was they were... 'protecting'...

With two swift motions, he summoned all of the dark powers at his will...

Erik flew into a near by wall, Force pushed with great magnitude... he was unconscious...

During the confusion, and 'concern' for her husband, Lo-Ban shot forth a redish bolt of Force lightning... making a direct hit in the small of Shayla's abdomen...

"You live... the sentence has been carried out... I've destroyed the only evidence of your love, your baby lives no more... I have filled it with my rage... my will has been done, I wished to hurt you... but now, I will keep on... hurting you..."

Lo-Ban now lowered, his pupils coming back into view...

With all of his anger and rage transfered into the small babe, Lo-Ban fell into a deep slumber...

Shayla knew Zack Kartan was still living amongst that evil, somewhere. She refused to believe otherwise. She WOULDN'T believe otherwise.

In that moment she did the one single thing any Mother would do when someone placed such a direct attack on her child. She stretched out for him through the shared Force-link that existed between Mother and child.

She stretched out...

I frown, somehow not assured by what the All is telling me, and that being that all the darkness and pain and evil and despair ever rooted in this padawan's soul has been somehow transferred into the innocent life carried by the Adept. Somehow, I sense he is not finished with what he came here for; I nod meaningfully toward my Brother.

"Take your son, and go!" I make the words a clear command, unheeding of the fact that he is Dark Lord of the Warriors. That this Loban would appear so unexpectedly, and wreak such lightning havoc...

...we dare not risk the Heir to the Title.

Lord Recinis casts his emerald eyes into mine, the look within them nearly sending me to my knees.

"I cannot bring her back, you know this," I whisper briefly, battling the pangs of anguish which seek to transform me into a mewling, crying thing. "This was of her own choice, for her love of us all, and to protect the Sith in the only way she knew how...

"Quickly, Brother, before this one awakens. Take your son, for her sake, and go to safety. He needs you now more than ever, especially since Roan's mate may see what your wife has done as an act of war."

I pause at the pure lightning now flaring from his eyes. Then, taking a breath, I continue.

"Warrior Lord you are, and to that we all pay homage. But warrior you cannot be, not now. Your son comes first and foremost; no harm can dare come to him. You must continue his training, you must raise him, you know this to be true...."

Indeed, it is all I can do to keep from breaking down beneath the words which fall from my own lips. The look in Lord Recinis's eyes is enough to give living strength to the dying, and all the more anguished for the fact that he knows what I say is true.

He pauses, then takes a hesitant step. His eyes pour into mine, full of promise and something just beyond my ability to read.

Then he whirls, taking his son by the hand, and departs with him.

I do not need the All to know that it is to a ship he is going... but from there?

Only Kh'lldraan knew the answer to that....

...then stopped, sensing just who was interrupting that quiet place. Seeing no threat in this but only an intent to help, she didn't fight it. So she merely reached out once more to that little one within her who was blazing yet with anger and despair. For it did not matter what had been done to him, he was still her son, and she loved him yet. Likewise did she yet sense him within that anger, as he did her.

Quietly she reached out...

...and after an indeterminate amount of time, she slowly opened her eyes, not daring to release that link forged in love...

...not now, not ever.

They gave into temptation...

...but was he fighting in vain?

Those greeny-blue eyes flooded with despair and sorrow.

Why, why hadn’t she been able to protect him from that attack? Was Loban truly that much stronger than her, despite her training...

...she had quite nearly been a Jedi...

...and she was an Adept...

Shayla’s heart froze.

She was an Adept whose minimal powers had been revoked. And perhaps it would have been those very powers that could have saved her young son from this harm now inflicted upon him.

The despair erupted into something else entirely even as she shot up from her position on the floor, her eyes wide with sudden anger to add to the mix.

Why, with such innocents involved, did no one do a thing to stop Loban Kenobi? And how in all the names of the Fates could Lord Recinis up and leave when Graysith was in such dire danger? Graysith...Jharmeen...SHE would have taken action against Loban’s attack, even as she was taking action against the harm Ankrist Roan was presenting...

...an action no one else was bothering to take.

At this her eyes shot briefly to Loban’s sleeping form, and she extended a hand...

...then froze.

Never attack Shayla, the words came from her psyche. Always protect.

Still she suddenly found herself burning with a desire for retaliation, burning with a desire for justice. For what man dares harm innocent life, unless he is no more than an animal? And how could she be garanteed that this was the end of Loban’s attack?

The answer was simple. She couldn’t.

Her eyes now flooded with an admixture of pain and anger and despair, she shifted her look once more to Aelvedaar after falling briefly on her husband’s still-unmoving form. She opened her mouth, and a quiet and despairing plea fell from it. ”Do something...”

She paused, tears beginning to trail a pathway from her eyes, "Help Graysith... and help my son...

...I would give my life to have them back...”

But, nonetheless, this pain held him from doing anything but open his eyes... and let out a moan...

He gave his body the command to move, putting everything he had into moving...

I rise to my feet, and turn back to Shayla.

"This one shall cause no further harm," I state succinctly. "But he is in need of healing.. This is something in your arena, I believe."

Graysith stepped forth into the Temple of Sorcerers on Khar Delba, practically in the exact spot she had vacated, only to step into an enigma. Before her startled vision:

Shayla, hovering atop an unmoving Erik Kartan. Nearby:

The equally unmoving form of Loban Kenobi of Tatooine, although he seemed to be conscious.

Graysith froze, shocked by the scene... shocked even more by the fact that they were alone in the Dining Hall. Lord Aelvedaar... Ayelmaar... the one called SerKe...

Her husband and her son....

Nowhere to be seen.

She trembled then, tears standing in her eyes, and reached out through the Link she shared with Recinis, that Link she had forged with him, born from her love for him, and she thought, his love for her...

It was gone. Snapped; somehow severed. Cut neatly in twain, as was her heart.

For the briefest of moments she closed her eyes, swaying. Shayla had yet to see her standing there, so quietly did she appear back in the Temple. Then she opened her eyes, clenching her jaws and taking in a deep and fortifying breath.

So be it. It was not the first time she had battled with heartbreak. Her own feelings, however, were unimportant at the moment. Now the welfare of those before her was at hand.

She moved quickly to Shayla's side, kneeling beside her to lay one hand on Erik's pale face, the other going out to instinctively hug her Adept about her shoulders.

"What has--" she began, but got no further. A great wave of nearly overwhelming evil and hatred and rage came washing out from Shayla, blasting into her being, striving to reach out and rend and tear and destroy. She swayed backward for a moment before she realized exactly where that wave originated; gasping, the hand on Erik's face flew up to grasp Shayla by her other shoulder. She turned her so that their eyes met.

Pain-filled greeny-blues met violet ones in turn swimming with pain equally as great.

"What has happened in my absence, Shayla?" she finally managed to ask, taking in the quiet forms of Erik and Loban in one sweeping glance before bringing her gaze back to her Adept as she waited, a lump coming into her throat to battle the even stonier one now beginning to develop in her heart.

After some length of time she finally pulled back from Jharmeen to look into her violet eyes once more, then spoke with a quiet and somewhat shakey voice in reply to the question that had been directed at her. “After you departed...” she paused here, her greeny-blues flitting to the now-still form of Loban Kenobi. She was unable to even state his name. “He arrived,” she said simply then, returning her gaze into Graysith’s, then filling her in on all that had occurred in that brief span of time, including Loban’s strange attack finalized by some sort of hideous evil and hatred being transferred to her unborn son. Likewise did she relate Lord Aelvedaar’s command for Lord Recinis to take his son and leave to train him, believing that Roan’s wife might see Graysith’s actions as a cue for war.

Then words failed her once more, and at last she finally gave in to that despair which was heavy upon her heart. Through the tears she uttered one final and sorrowful statement. ”They did nothing when you left despite the certain danger...they did nothing when he arrived despite the fact he came with clear intent to harm...

...they did nothing...”

That it had to be this... my Sire, who has designed my being these last years... my love; oh Recinis, how could--

She nipped that off in the bud, firming, and reached out to Loban. He moaned, but did nothing in either defense or offense; he merely lay there, an almost stunned expression on his face.

Graysith took hold of Shayla's shoulders again.

"I cannot explain," she began hurriedly, all too aware of the sparsity of time which was rapidly descending upon them. "Not now. But things are not as we have believed... as I have believed...."

She paused again, fighting tears. Her fingers gripped Shayla's shoulders like steel bands and she drilled a desperate look deep into her Adept's eyes.

"There is great good here... but great evil as well. Shayla, remember two things: they are Sith, and we are human... and as such have been used, so terribly, terribly used."

With sudden and fluid grace she rose to her feet, taking Shayla up with her. "You must take a ship; seek the Sith warship if it is still here; Recinis has left but perhaps he has taken a smaller ship.... Take Erik, and Loban, and go.

"Go! Somewhere away from here, find someone with whom we might speak. The hunter Tarnus, he knows of the Sith; perhaps he will have interest and will somehow come to our aide. But Shayla--"

She paused a moment, now casting a glance over her shoulder as if fearful that others would sense her arrival and come back. She gulped, returned her gaze to Shayla's distressed expression.

"My niece... she lives. She is yet a babe, and is on Kamino; find Galen! Let her know that black is white and not all is what it seems; I cannot explain, for there is little time.

"We have been lied to, Shayla; lied to. About a great many things! And this as well."

Now one hand fell from Shayla's shoulders to rest lightly on her stomach.

"I can aid your child, and shall. Then I have a final course to follow. I-- I may not return., but if it is the will of Khaandon I shall see your face again. Do not waste your efforts in seeking me out; I shall find you."

Again she stopped, shaking her head. Her formal aplomb clearly was shattered; it was almost as if she no longer knew who or what she was and as a result was unable to form coherent speech. She opened her mouth as though to clarify her somewhat stilted address... then quietly closed it.

She closed her eyes, and remained standing there a full minute in silence. Then, the Glyph flaring on her brow, she reached out with her talents and as she had once in another dimension toward another great evil, began taking that evil nested within Shayla's innocent baby willingly into her very being. The Glyph flared into incandescent white on her brow, forcing Shayla to squint behind an upraised hand; Graysith's eyes darkened with wild and unholy joy.

Yet in that darkness there sparkled something of good, for in this undertaking she did not purge herself of love. She daren't; there were none to interfere on her behalf, should her next mission prove a success.

From where she was going, she had none other than herself to release her. And from that spark of good and light and love there came a final message, battling against the influx of evil like a salmon battling upstream:

"Do not forget...."

Then the spark died... and her head flung back. Her teeth gnashed, and her breast heaved. Something within her forced her arm away from Shayla's stomach and out to one side, where a portal suddenly opened into another dimension, a dimension of pure darkness and evil and despair.

And with the cry of a valkyrie she strode into that darkness, not looking back.

The portal snapped closed behind her, leaving Shayla and Erik and Loban alone in the Dining Hall of the temple.

And within the protection of his mother's womb, a peaceful and restored child slumbered on.

((OOC: Follow Graysith into Here Be Dragons in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

...but she place a finger atop his lips. “There is no time, we must leave here.”

Then wrapping an arm about him and drawing the Force about them both for strength, she aided him out of the Khar Delban Temple as quickly as possible. She let a sigh of relief escape her lips as the warship came into view, and headed for it, her husband leaning on her for support. Only when he was comfortably laying in the back of that said warship did she address him once more. “Loban has to come with us,” she said, albeit a touch darkly. A look of alarm registered in Erik’s eyes as she said this, so she continued with, “He can’t be left here.”

Then without another word she turned once more to the Temple to retrieve Loban, most definitely not taking great care to help him out as she drug him to the warship, not even so much as desiring to lay a hand on him. Loban she left in a somewhat crumpled heap on the cabin floor, clearly in her sights should he decide to pull anything funny. Then, knowing precisely where she intended to head next, Shayla warmed the Sith warship, then headed for an orbit around Khar Delba. Once in orbit she then dialed in a specific comm frequency, taking care to use a secured channel as she then requested the comm frequency of one Aaron Barnes, knowing the first logical place Galen might have fled after she left Khar Delba was somewhere within the Eagle Enterprises company. She sent off a request to speak with Mr. Barnes, then turned once more to the controls of the warship, heading off safely into a random hyperspace vector and awaiting Barnes’s reply. Only once hyperspace was carefully established did she then drag the still-motionless form of Loban Kenobi along with her to the back of the ship to tend to her husband’s injuries.

She smiled slightly and nodded in affirmation, then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the head. "Get some rest," she whispered quietly, confirming the fact that she was taking him into a sleeping trance with her healing powers. He managed to shift his eyes towards the form of Loban on the deck of the ship, suddenly too tired to form the words that were trying to come to his lips. He looked back to Shayla, noting the look in her eye darken ever the slightest. "Don't you worry about him," she said, again speaking softly yet with an edge of something. Then, "Close your eyes."

He wasn't sure if he ever acknowledged that softly stated directive with a nod or even a word. Before he knew it the Universe drifted away and everything went pleasantly black...

...and considering Graysith's words to her in the Temple, Shayla was really uncertain that there was anyone else she could trust at the moment.

Her greeny-blue eyes hardened as she stared back into those now somehow desperate eyes of Loban Kenobi's. Only then did she realize his predicatment; this didn't mean, however, that she truly cared. But she wanted to know...

Kneeling down, she reached out a hand and jerked his face to hers, simultaneously sending forth enough healing energies so that the muscles of his jaw could begin to work yet again. But nothing futther did she intend to do...not after what he had done, not til she had some sort of proof it wasn't going to happen again.

He dared not take his eyes off Shayla, for to gaze upon her beauty seemed to be all he was capable of...

Taking a deep breath he turned to face his son who was looking at him in a slightly confused, but ever curious manor.

"my son... We go now to teach you of your blood... I can not teach you what your mother was to, i can not teach you the miraculous strength you inherited from her it is forign to me. But my son, i can teach you to control yourself, and in that i pray those powers will be controlled as well...

Jharu,These are strange times,i know not your destiny, but i know this, mine... Mine has come to an end..."

He sighed and turned away closing his eyes to picture his wife. "I will return to you my love... Stay strong, and find the truth, even now i can feel the confusion within you... Feel the trials you have undergone... the pain you have felt..." His thoughts wafted out slowly, hopefuly to find there way to her...
My destiny has come to an end... It was my destiny to protect her... never did i expect to have my heart filled with love... No... How i wish i could stay beside her... But something is not correct in the universe at this time, i can feel it...

Jharu, my son... I hope you can withstand this, i hope you grow strong, your destiny could indeed be far more difficult then mine...

And now we will find our way to a place... A place where Jharu can grow in his mind... I can feel he is of yet not strong enough in that department...

I have trained him to be swift in blade, and true of heart... But his mind, That is my failing, The one aspect this title i could not fully grasp. Never was i stupid, no... But Jharu must be far stronger in thougth then any before...

A sorcerer's mind, A warriors strength, and a weapons master's heart.

The three aspects the sith uphold...

Did he not know what he had just done?

Scowling disgustedly then she stood and walked a bit about the cabin of the warship once more, questing outward to sense her immediate surroundings, beginning to wonder if anyone at Eagle Enterprises was going to reply at all, her concern for Graysith slipping to the forefront of her mind once more as she waited.

(((OCC: Follow Shayla, Loban, and Erik to The Curse of the Uninvited in the CSWU.)))

She lay in that strange state of something other than consciousness, yet not completely removed from the universe; that almost indescribable condition where wise men send themselves to see into other dimensions, and encompassed by which that men discover they can walk barefoot through fire. Deep in this removal from the dark realms about her, something from otherwhere found its way into her being.

It might have been a dream. It definitely was more than that.

"Stay strong, and find the truth, even now I can feel the confusion within you... Feel the trials you have undergone... the pain you have felt...." My destiny has come to an end... It was my destiny to protect her... never did I expect to have my heart filled with love... No... How I wish I could stay beside her... "I will return to you my love...."

Overlaying these shadowed whispers which might have originated in her own mind was a brilliant pair of eyes, eyes shining like liquid emeralds, eyes steady and full of love. A sensation of warmth came from nowhere, filling her being, buoying her up, soothing her battered soul from the terrible deed she had just undertaken, reminding her that first and foremost, whether Dark Lord or not, whether involved in dark schemes or not... he was still her husband, and still loved her as much as she did him.

A moan rose up from deep within her non-waking state, coming from the depths of her heart as she seemed to seek out in turn, her own essence easily able to slip between the harshness of reality to fly upon the wings of thought itself until she came upon a ship, fleeing somewhere in the night.
She reached out to the occupants of that ship.

"I love you, my dearest husband... my dear son...

...and I shall wait."

With a little sigh, that mysterious essence drew back from the place it had been, gathering and coiling upon itself, shrinking in size and density until it retreated totally back into her heart of hearts, warming the Beast who once more lay quietly within her breast.

Perhaps it was a dream. And then again....

Perhaps it was not.

Ankrist Roan came out from the shadows where he had been quietly observing her, and stopped an arm's length from her. He cocked his head a bit to one side, his eyes boring holes into her head.

"Either your teacher neglected to inform you of a great many things, or you weren't as observant a student as I thought, Jharmeen," he said quietly, all pretense of superciliousness gone from him. His eyes cut to the quiet form laying on the bed, then returned to Graysith's violet pair.

"I had the ability all along to not only depart from the elseness in which you placed me, but to drop your shield as well. Jharmeen, recall you not? Trapping me against my will beneath that shield only allows me to use the All to drop it in defense; have you forgotten everything my Brother has taught you? Or did he merely gloss over this one aspect of All usage in his education of you?"

He paused a bit as though waiting for an answer. When none was immediately forthcoming, he continued.

"You will find yourself in K'eel Doba... the K'eel Doba of reality. This is the K'eel Doba I have you to thank for: the one restored to a life cruelly taken from it, the one in which my peoples live yet again.

"As does my mate."

He paused again with that, his lips curling in a fond smile. Then he closed the distance between them, and took her by her shoulders.

"None of this would have been possible without your blood, and for that I must accede apology to Lord Aelvedaar. But for that reason, and that reason only. In all other regards, I spit in his face for what he would have done to my peoples."

Again he paused, reading the depth of the hurt his words caused to come flooding into her eyes... but a hurt not entirely of his own making. Clearly he could read the fact that much of what he had already revealed had been substantiated by what she had found in Khar Delba; he didn't press any further, but simply went on to another topic, letting her continue to come to conclusions of her own.

Now he waved a hand toward the still form of their daughter.

"I could not leave her there, Jharmeen... neither could I leave you. The evil which had taken her, as well as the body of your first love is great... you must believe me when I say I know of this evil. At any moment it might indeed have returned. My honor as a warrior would not let me stand by in silence."

His turquoise eyes slid to the quiet form on the bed, then returned to Graysith.

"She shall become again what she was before he corrupted her: our daughter, and a strong one. Child of my loins, she has a road of her own to travel... as does the unborn child of my wife."

His smile broadened, becoming somehow softer, an expression which suddenly did not seem so much an oxymoron upon his face. He nodded toward her, continuing.

"There are challenges ahead, Jharmeen," he began. "Challenges to the title yet unmade. Whether this be via the return of your own husband, or from his son to my children... and at that, depending on which of the two shall prove the stronger and thus most worthy of that title to Heir of the Warriors of the Sith."

A look of understanding flashed between them. Then his eyes fell to her wrist, glanced meaningfully at his own, and he continued.

"Know this, Jharmeen Q'utaro. As long as that flashes golden upon your wrist, then bride to the challenger you are. As long as it flashes on mine, then challenge to right of entitlement remains unanswered. In the meantime, I am seen as Dark Lord of the Warriors, and my wife Kreesha as Lady to them.

"And you, my dear, now find yourself in a singular position, hovering between two worlds, your destiny fulfilled. Whatever shall you do?"

Now the enescapable meaning of Roan's words slammed into her, and she sank down onto her knees, bowing her head to the truth in them.

For indeed, as long as the strange stand-off she found herself in continued, she was truly stuck between worlds. Created by the Sith for the Sith; she daren't return to her own world. How could she, after the dark deed she had done in the moment of her rebirth? She daren't return to her Sire, for was he not the one who created her? A powerful sorcerer he was, and more than likely would kill or at the very least imprison her if she returned to Khar Delba. For obvious reasons, she couldn't remain on K'eel Doba either; as long as that damnable tattoo flashed a steady gold upon her wrist her life was endangered just by the sheer challenge it offered.

Her only other life was Recinis and Jharu, but they were gone, although she firmly believed he still loved her.

She trembled a bit, swaying on her knees. Then she rose quietly to her feet.

"There is no challenge to you or your wife from me, Ankrist," she finally managed in a somewhat shaky voice. "I bear no claim to the title of Lady of the Warriors, for that hinges only on the actions of my husband, and he--"

She trailed off, unwilling to go further in that arena. Now she merely stared at the floor, her vision growing vague as once more memories of what she had undergone over the past three years scrolled before her eyes. The long road she had traveled as a pawn of forces she thought she understood, but now realized she had not the command of that an ant has over a pebble it struggles to remove from its path.

She thought of Shayla... and paused.

Her adept, taught by her, chosen by her as well... and who was she now? No longer Chosen Daughter, no longer Lady, nothing but Jharmeen Q'utaro, indeed, nothing but Jharmeen....

She couldn't stand it. The fall from grace was too far. The knowledge that Shayla now had a new life spreading out in front of her slammed into her: a life with a husband and child of her own; there was no room in it for Jharmeen, or should not be. She deserved to be happy; Jharmeen knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that her very presence alone would preclude that from happening as long as she herself could not find answer to who indeed she now was.

Without true strength in self, all one may offer is mundane redundancy....

She sighed in sudden resignation, and rose to her feet.

He smiled to feel her struggle to maintain strength, dignity. Then he pushed her from him, and stared down into her violet eyes.

"I tried to woo you from him, believe that," he murmured. "I wanted a place here for you... now you know this cannot be so. Not as how things stand."

She managed to remain strong, and merely nodded, unable to speak any more. His lips curled into a smile of sympathy, and he shook his horned head, not finding the words to state all he was feeling at the moment. But then, perhaps that wasn't needed; clearly she knew. The words coming from her eyes spoke them as loudly as if she had used her own voice.

"I still have the ship you took as your own; I believe you named her Chosen One," he said softly. "This is yours to take, freely, as is the Sith flightsuit you will find inside. She has been stocked...."

He paused again, somehow feeling that once Jharmeen Q'utaro flew away from K'eel Doba he would never lay eyes on her again. He grunted, pulling her fiercely to him, wrapping her slight frame in his strong arms, completely enveloping her. Laying his cheek atop her head, he whispered softly, "There truly is a place in my heart for you, though you may disbelieve it, Jharmeen. I thank you for what you had to sacrifice for my people."

With that he lifted her chin and bestowed a gentle kiss of thanks upon her lips. Then he took her swiftly to Ch'arlingua, accompanying her to the little Sith fighter, that none would impede her and that she could leave them in peace...

...to find whatever peace she in turn could, wherever in the galaxy that might be. And as he stood there on the tarmac watching the ship soar up into the glittering skies above, something deep inside him told him that she was destined to spend the remainder of her life in haunting search of that elusive goal.

Which at the moment mirrored her feelings exactly.

Her hand shook as she reached out to the log book; sniffling, she firmed, and stared at it. Then that hand managed to stretch out the remaining centimeters, and she leafed the book open.

She had no real clue as to where to go. Therefore she would let Fate decide it for her.

Closing her eyes, she gathered some pages and let them fall where they may. Then with her eyes still closed, she let her finger drop at random. She opened her eyes...

...and smiled to see the coordinates that finger lay upon.

Somehow fitting, she mused sadly to herself. A place one other once removed himself to, perhaps for much the same reason as I. For why else need social creatures seek hermitage in a universe of untold billions?

She could not answer that, not knowing the answer. All she knew was that this was her final destination. At least until fates should decree she should have another.

My love is strong, Recinis, she thought, stretching outward. Thus I obey your unspoken request that I not follow you. There is yet a Link between us... should you decide to find me, you will have the means of doing so. Until that moment should occur, if indeed it ever will, I find peace in the solitary mists of a world bearing haunting beauty....

Her eyes suddenly widened with the realization that complete solitude would drive her mad. An idea struck; the Glyph flared as she opened a brief portal in the All, reached through, and called out in a beckoning whisper.

A distant growl answered her... followed by another. Moments later the muscular form of M'wonBo'o leapt through that opening into Khar Delba, a grumbling G'hrr close on his heels.

Graysith smiled wanly at the sight of the two beasts trying to find room to curl up in the little craft. Then she closed the portal, and sent Chosen One off to its new destiny. A world of mystery, beauty, and one uninhabited by anything other than beasts and legend.

And one she would remain alone in with the two tuk'ata for the remainder of her life, if that is what the gods should ordain.

((OOC: Follow Graysith to Every Thing That Grows in the "CSWU forums, thank you.))

His apprentice, Taehun. He was yet somewhere on K'eel Doba....

Roan drew in a breath, considering. It mattered not to him that he himself had cut off that contact with Taehun so long ago, mattered less that he had gone so far as to forget his erstwhile ally and apprentice. Indeed, as Sith Warrior and Dark Lord of the same, it was not in his nature to be overly concerned with the feelings of those he considered menial, just as it was not in his nature to concern himself with the those who had fallen from his grace. Once defeated, they remained that way in his mind.

But this....

He cocked his horned head to one side, his eyes slitting as he thought.

A dark jedi... lurking on K'eel Doba. Indeed, Taehun's very life was at stake the longer he remained here. Granted, those Sith in the outskirts, in the rural areas farther away from Phrinnchatka might not have any knowledge of the rapidly cascading events as yet; to them it was just another day in a year they thought 4,000 years younger than it really was.

But there were plenty who had been in the plaza at his call, when he revealed the beginnings of his plan to unite the Sith under his rule, when he had mutilated and dishonored the remains of Suranas Rean and his family... and those would indeed be aware that they had died at the hands of the dark jedi.

He paused, debating. Then a decision was made.

His apprentice just might be put to good use.

He whirled, and headed toward a portion of the spaceport reserved for land-flitters... or something similar to those used by the Galaxy in this day. Indeed, these were 4,000 years old... but they served the same purpose as a landspeeder did on Tatooine, and operated in a similar manner. A technician came up with a check-out list, standard operating procedure when Sith would come here to use the transportation vehicle, but immediately bowed back when he recognized who it was.

"My Lord," he said deferentially, waving a clawed hand to the side to indicate that Roan could take his leave as he pleased. Which the Dark Lord of the Warriors then proceeded to do.

It wasn't long before he was out in one of the rare wilderness areas left on this remarkably alive planet. Disembarking from the flitter, he strode to a rocky outcrop, and climbed atop it. From there he could see the awesome beauty of the spires of Phrinnchatka, sparkling like great bundles of glass rods soaring a mile into the K'eel Doban air. To the left of this, blinking and flashing lights bespoke of the spaceport, bustling as techncians rushed hither and yon to give the vessels docked there constant safety inspections.

He smiled, turning his head, gazing about himself full-circle. Here and there, other spires denoting other cities rose to seek the sky; a great breath of satisfaction rushed from him, and he threw back his horned head with a great laugh, delighted with the sight. For the enormity of the situation had finally struck home.

He had actually done it.

Then he composed himself, and sent out a probing tendril through the All to where Taehun was lurking, bidding him hasten and meet him here on the rocky outcrop on the very-much alive Sith planet called K'eel Doba.

Power...

Oh yes, that's right. Taehun remembered the faint hint of amazing power he had felt from Roan when they had first met, and when he had come to serve under him...the power he had gained was indescribable. That's what it all eventually came down to...power.

All the power in the universe wouldn't do him any good if he were dead, however. And being a dark jedi on a Sith planet certainly didn't give him much of a chance of survival. Because of this, Taehun was glad when he found a Sith building that resembled an airport. He had moved very carefully, managing to avoid the guards stationed outside, only to find that the airport was almost entirely empty.

So now, Taehun sat on a darkened platform in the building, watching and waiting for a ship to come in. Below the platform a Sith sentry of some sort would pass by every few minutes, making sure that all ships were there. Taehun was still waiting when he felt the tendril link return, and his master call out to him. Without hesitation, Taehun leapt from the platform and landed silently next to a craft that seemed to resemble a speeder. He quickly hopped on board and started its engines. The controls and displays seemed to be in some archaic language, but that no longer mattered. The link had been reestablished, and Taehun steered the craft out of the airport before any of the guards could react.

Roan lowered his turquoise gaze into Taehun's... then reached out and grasped the man by his forearm.

"I sense your desire for power, my apprentice," he purred in a silky voice, then letting his grasp loosen and Taehun's hand fall from his own. "Indeed, I have always sensed it."

He paused then, stepping out until he stood at the very brink of the rock cliff. His hair blew in the wild wind that suddenly gusted; turning a bit sideways, he indicated the distant spires of Phrinnchatka with a wave of one hand.

"There lies the fruits of the power I wield, my apprentice, power such as you have never seen before. Power which can be yours."

His head whipped about now as he looked over his shoulder, piercing Taehun's eyes with his own. His dark smile grew even darker when he saw the resultant glitter that flashed in the dark jedi's eyes.

"Aye," he whispered, now coming close and leaning down to brush his lips ever so close to Taehun's ear. "The use of this great power... that I can teach you, or can find the one to teach you." He flinched a bit, remembering his failure with his wife, then hurried smoothly on.

"There is only one thing you must do for me."

He paused, straightening. His brow lowered.

"None but a select few shall be allowed the use of this power. It is called the All; that much I shall reveal to you. We Sith have an inherent ability to learn of its use, but it is not in itself inherent to us. Thus any can learn if they are so predisposed.

"You can learn...." His voice trailed off in an enticing whisper. "But as I said, only a select few must be able to handle it. There is a child with this power inherent to her; she must not be allowed to continue without proper... instruction.

"Bring me that child... the child of Galen Danner. FIND HER... and bring her, alive, to me. Then I shall see to your own education in the All... my apprentice."

"I shall carry out your will, milord. However, I do not know how to seek this child out. How will I find the child?" Taehun hesitated momentarily before speaking again. "...and your people, how will I get off of this planet, without being attacked by hordes of Sith?"

"The child is the spawn of Galen JhinDar Danner and the hunter, Sorben Tarnus," he said smoothly. "I... left her with the cloners on Kamino for purposes leading to the completion of what you see here before you."

He waved his clawed hand toward the distant towers, then continued.

"Of that you need know no more at this time. There will be a time later... more than enough time, my apprentice, to fill you in on the information you are missing.

"But knowing where she is will give you a place to start. Unless something has occurred... she is there. If not... then I trust you have some prowess in the art of the hunt?"

He whirled, pinning Taehun with a dark look, one which clearly read the expectations he had of him. They remained locked in a wordless stare, the wind ruffling their clothing, bringing something of a chill into their midst. And at length Roan seemed to see what he desired in in Taehun's aspect, and he nodded.

"Good," he said succinctly. "Then we understand each other. Now, come."

With that he turned and mounted his flitter, watching as Taehun did the same. He took off at a rapid speed, sending rafts of dust skirling in his wake, forcing Taehun to speed up to his side or find himself choking and coughing. As his apprentice drew abreast of him, Roan's eyes glittered even more darkly, and he made a motion to Taehun.

"Draw your cloak more closely around you, that none may see your features," he commanded him through the All. When this was accomplished, he led his adept into Ch'arlingua, and up to a lethally sleek little craft. Of alien origin and technology it was, of a race that had died out entirely 3,000 years in the past. He dismounted before it, and waved his hand toward its matte exterior, one so dull as to scarcely reflect any light at all. He nodded his head to Taehun, then strode up to the ship and slapped his hand on the hull.

A strangely shaped shadow opened up in its side, and a walkway floated from that shadow like gossamer mist.

Roan gave Taehun a meaningful stare.

"Do not fail me, Taehun," he commanded, speaking his name for the first time.

Galen Danner...It was as if it were a name Taehun had heard a long time ago in a dream. The name seemed vaguely familiar, but Taehun could not recall a face that corresponded with the name.

As Taehun entered the ship he removed his dark cloak that had been carefully wrapped around his face, disguising his features thus far. So, he would be Lord Roan's little secret - a dark jedi to go around doing the dirty work. In all honesty, if a dark jedi was indeed capable of honesty, Taehun didn't mind his role at all. He was not a overly proud man, and was willing to give up a little dignity in order to gain power...much more power.

Slowly, the controls in the Sith craft responded to Taehun's touch. Because of the tendril link to his master, Taehun knew just how to operate this craft. The dark ship slowly lifted off, exited the hangar, and left K'eel Dolba with a sudden burst of speed.

Kamino, eh?...

((OOC: Follow the dark jedi Taehun to Kamino in the A Civilization Stirs... thread in the Complete Star Wars Universe forum. Thank you.))

Then, there, far away in the distance, a brief flicker. A light, a beacon, beckoning to her to come, come up, come out, come forth from the darkness... she clawed and scrabbled in blind obedience to that light, slicing out at the muffling darkness, yearning and climbing and striving to breach from the unthinkable depths of Hell to which she had sunk....

She opened her bi-colored eyes with some effort, blinking blearily as she sought to return her thoughts to reality. Into her blinking eyes there swam another pair... a startling turquoise pair, which hovered over her, refusing to depart.

From that impossible deep there upwelled an instinctive shadow of emotion: it was the merest of flickers, but engulfed a wealth of feeling: a selfish grasping out in something which only approximated love... a sudden flood of sheer relief... an immediate and utter offering of who and what she was... complete and soul-consuming terror for what was behind those eyes....

She blinked again, and a face which was vaguely familiar washed into view. She studied it benignly, blinking away those wisps of whatever it was that had bubbled in the recesses of her being, and for a short moment wondered who those eyes belonged to.

A flash of understanding shot through her: a memory of a corridor, standing against one, then later, striving, seeking, always reaching out to go back to her....

"Father?" she queried through lips as dry as a Tatooine well. Then she frowned, wondering why there were no more memories, she was sere of them, she had no beginning, no end, she simply was and knew somehow that he was her father, and that only.

But who was she?

Careful probing via the All had discovered the tiniest speck of ShaRhylla-essence, still lurking deep within her very being, her spirit or soul as some would call it. Though her body had been wrenched into something other by the evil actions of Entaris, and though her mind had likewise been forcibly, if oh-so insidiously, taken, there was yet something of who and what she was hiding somewhere deep within, providing her just that mote of selfness to keep alive the flickering flame of terror against her Dark Heart... and which in fact had made her repetitive and willing self-sacrifice to him all the more satisfying each and every time it had been implemented.

For to those who seek pain and yield to torture, that pain and torture must first be given measure or it is meaningless.

Once found, Roan had instantly realized that tiny, cowering speck needed help... the help of a Sorcerer. But there were none on K'eel Doba; all Roan could do was send a tendril of his own strength into his child's being, washing away all memories of the terrible events that had happened to her since she had fallen to Entaris's dark and cloying hands, supporting that bit of ShaRhylla in the process and hoping that she was of enough Sith blood to persevere.

To his great relief, she had been. And now was awakening, coming slowly back to herself, a blank slate other than that ShaRhylla-essence, which he knew could only get stronger over time.

He laid a clawed hand gently on her sweat-slicked forehead. For now, this was enough. Later, when she was stronger, she would be taught what indeed she had been through, every last detail. For Sith she was, if half-bred, and her ordeal would thus would be shown in the Library annals here in Phrinnchatka. But now--

"You are ShaRhylla Roan, child of my flesh, by the one called the Chosen Daughter of the Sith," he intoned softly, pushing her damp hair back from her forehead, his eyes gazing lovingly into hers. "Later will come more knowledge; for now, my daughter, know this: you have passed through the very depths of Hell. But as a sword passing through those flames, you have emerged the better for it, tempered and strong."

He paused, once again stroking her forehead lovingly, then stooping to kiss it softly.

"Rest now, my child," he whispered in a voice few dreamed Ankrist Roan possessed. A smile creased his sensuous lips as he watched her obey that simple command. Then he settled himself in a chair by her bed, that when she awoke it would not be alone.

Proximity alarms began their wailing bleep as Relentless prepared to come out of hyperspace, signalling for all to come to station-keeping and look alive. The old star destroyer had seen more than her share of days of battle throughout her colorful history, some ending in glory, others not; her current commander, Captain Hekios Landarian, aimed to see she found another notch in her glory belt if there was anything he could do to help it.

He turned to the Officer On Deck.

"Battle stations, and look alive," he ordered succinctly, turning to watch the forward view as the starstreaks condensed into a tiny red ball in the center of it, a ball with two even tinier white dots in orbit about it. He snorted to see the apparent tranquility of the heretofore unknown system, one currently introduced to him as:

"Khar Delba, ey?" he muttered, arching a brow. Then he snorted.

Looks peaceful enough, a couple empty planets circling an isolated and dim little sun....

"Sir!" the science officer whirled at his station, his eyes wide. "I'm picking up lifesigns, sir... a-- a great many lifesigns; in fact, Sir--"

The young lieutenant paused, his eyes wide in surprise. Then he pulled the tiny receiver from his ear, played a tune on his console, read a screen.

"Both planets are fully colonized, er-- that is, I'm reading maybe populations in the numbers of tens of billions. Sir."

He fell silent, staring at his Commander.

Populated?! Captain Landarian's proverbial jaw dropped at this unexpected announcement, but he didn't let a lick of his surprise show on his features. He simply nodded.

"Very good, Lieutenant," he said smoothly. He then called out to the communications officer. "Send data to Coruscant, and inform Lt. General Tarnus of the situation. Helm--"

He turned slightly, waiting the mere second or two for that officer to turn in his seat.

"Lay a course to six parsecs from the Khar Delban sun, standard haunt orbital in the Z-axis," he ordered, raising a calm finger to scratch his nose in thought. "Remain in keeping at that position; inform the rest of the ships to follow suit.

"We'll wait and see if we are issued any orders from HQ. But in the meantime, keep a close watch on those planets, especially if they show any signs of having space capacity."

"Maintain station-keeping until I can get a backup freed to assist you," I ordered. "Remain on battle alert; the situation may be deceivingly quiet, but your circumstances are in level red danger."

I paused, frowning, then let that frown carry over into my demeanor as I creaked forward on my elbows, my hands clasped on the desk in front of me. "Secure link to Captain Landarian," I snapped, waited a few moments, then let out a sigh when his rugged features filled my screen. I interrupted his formalities with a lift of my finger.

"Captain, I cannot stress enough the danger of your current situation... nor can I stress the need that absolute top secret silence is maintained. Not one whisper of your discovery must be let loose from your ships, Captain; I tell you this just short of ordering your entire fleet destroyed to assure that silence."

Landarian's eyes widened fractionally, then he nodded in affirmation. I nodded in return.

"Good," I said. "Then we do understand each other. Maintain watch until backup arrives, and under no circumstances do anything to reveal your presence there. It is of strictest importance that your situation be strictly contained as is for as long as possible.

He nodded once, meaningfully.

"You heard the Lt. General," he finally broke that overwhelming silence. "Not one word of this is to leave the bridge, under penalty of death. Communications, send same intership."

He paused to let the pregnant silence following those words underscore them with more inflection and meaning than he could ever inject into them. At length there was an almost mutual rustling from the people on the bridge, as if each and every one had finally affirmed the severity of their situation into their very cells, and were calmly now waiting to see what would happen next.

Landarian nodded, a slight smile of satisfaction quirking up one corner of his mouth.

"Carry on," he said with a sharp nod of his head, then went off to his own ready room. There he accessed the ship's library and began bringing up everything and anything it might contain about the Khar Delban system and the mythos that was the ancient civilization of the Sith.

Which wasn't much, he was soon to discover, much to his dismay.

Almost....

She awoke with a viscious start, her arms reaching out, fingers tense and coiled, claws and fangs bared as if by that one instinctive reaction she could kill the darkness trying to devour her soul.

Of course it wouldn't work... but that darkness was reduced to a more manageable level as a warm, clawed hand descended upon her, pushing her gently back again, now moving to stroke damp tendrils of her hair from her brow.

"Rest, my child. You are safe."

The voice seemed to come from far away, so very far away. ShaRhylla strained to see who it was that was speaking to her thus, but it was simply too difficult to fully breach that muffling cloud of darkness which yet held her in its thrall.

She merely closed her eyes, shuddering, and not even knowing really what it was that had provoked that physical reaction from her.

Graysith smiled a cold, little smile when Chosen One's proximity alarm began its quiet, musical chiming. Even in the otherness of hyperspace the near-magical Sith fighter was cleanly able to sense out, finding the massing Imperial ships who were hovering just outside the Khar Delban system, and warn her of them. Thus it was that she chose to fully utilize the wonderful capabilities of the little fighter to their fullest extent; reaching out, she snapped off the autopilot, but other than that did nothing.

Still in hyperspace, the ship arrowed onward, aiming for a particular mote within that side-slipped reality where it would lunge with all the certainty of a striking rancor. Graysith's smile never wavered an iota as in this manner the ship slipped entirely past the hulking giants, its cyberbiotic brain now awakening to calculate and perform the impossible:

Bringing a ship from hyperdrive within a planetary atmosphere.

It did so, cleanly, and with a minimum of fuss, slamming from velocities too unthinkable to remotely ponder to a modest couple hundred meters per second, bringing the sith fighter simultaneously into realspace and landing trajectory on K'eel Doba as easily as a leaf would fall from a tree.

Now Graysith took the controls in her hand, choosing to bring the ship into a rolling victory loop over the bustling city of Phrinnchatka. She swooped down low, buzzing it, watching with cold glee as the inhabitants walking about lifted their horned heads in surprise, wondering who she was, and why she was flying in thus a manner. Just skimming the tops of the buildings, she headed to the Ch'arlingua spaceport, for which she showed her clear disdain by buzzing it in turn.

Then she swooped up, barrel-rolled, and headed back to the city, where she brought Chosen One to a feather-light landing in the courtyard of the Great Temple of the Warriors.

The fighter had scarcely settled onto the tiles there when its hatch slid smoothly open, disgorging a slim figure draped in rune-encrypted smoke. The back of her cloak rustled and flared, as if hiding something in the richness of its folds; in this manner Graysith walked out into the courtyard and stared up toward a particular balcony... one joining a particular room, a room belonging to a particular individual.

He came out obligingly enough, his turquoise eyes widening in surprise to see her standing there below him.

Her voice was low and musical, and cut the air like a knife. The Glyph on her forehead exploded into radiance as, lifting her arm high into the air, exposed wrist revealed to him as the sleeve puddled down around her elbow, she showed the brilliant gold of her Tattoo of Entitlement.

"Hello, Ankrist," she said simply, not deigning to honor him with his title.

"I've come back."

Behind him came a small rustling from ShaRhylla's bed... following by the even quieter noise of the door into the room opening from the corridor beyond. Light footsteps padded his way; stopping as a pair of sinuous arms twined lithely about him to lay upon his bared chest, playing about there.

"What is it, my love?" Kreesha's words came into his ears; then she shifted and peered around him. Her claws dug into his chest, drawing blood.

Ankrist Roan ignored the slight pain. His own hands now gripped the stone balustrade, crumbling portions of it to bits and pieces which filtered downward to drift away upon the cool breeze coming from the city streets. Then one hand lifted slowly and with great determination grasped Kreesha's arm, yanking it from him and turning it upright.

There upon her own wrist, the Tattoo of Entitlement glowed like a tiny sun.

The hand he held clenched into a fist.

"I shall tear her lungs out her throat and have her present them to you ere she dies, my love," she growled, beginning to whirl and leave.

Roan stopped her, a returning growl lowering in his chest.

"This is impossible, yet..." he trailed, then leaned out over the balcony. One great fist shot out toward the quiet form below, a clawed finger shooting to point at her in an accusing manner.

"You cannot!" he cried in his deep bass thunder. "It is of the Sith, and Sith only!

"Depart now ere I loose the dogs upon you, and consider yourself lucky to have been let away by this most magnanimous gesture!"

Her violet eyes blackened to twilight.

"Do not speak to me of what is and what is not Sith!" she hissed softly, slowly lowering her arm and joining it with its fellow in front of her. It then shot upward once again, and this time it was her turn to point the finger of accusation.

"I have done more for you and your peoples than generations of fullblooded Sith, and you know it!"

The hand slowly lowered once again as she let those words ring out against the walls of the courtyard surrounding her. The sharp, clarion quality was beginning to dampen, however, as those walls were gradually becoming filled with Sith of all ages, coming to see the sudden commotion occurring at the Temple. They lined the walls, some of them coming into the courtyard itself, but refrained from descending upon Graysith at a motion from the Dark Lord above.

She now flicked her hands against her cloak, flinging it open and back, revealing her sword RoraKessh which she had taken from her closet on Chosen One, a closet where she had placed it that long-ago day she had departed Koris'ian with her new Blood Hunt companion, seeking the destiny which yet lay ahead at that time.

One in fact not too dissimilar to the one facing me now, she mused as she watched Roan's eyes widen at the implication carried upon that one quick motion.

Beside him, his mate was nearly beside herself with blood-lust.

Graysith only smiled more sweetly....

"As the Lady that you are, my love," Roan's words whispered directly into her ear, his hot breath acting like a balm to soothe her anger, to channel it in the direction in which it would be more useful. She shuddered in his hands, slowly recapturing control over herself, and at length stood silent.

"You shall defeat her easily enough, my dearest wife," those words continued, even as she was being turned and led off of the balcony. Through the bedchamber where the spawn of that witch yet slept, she allowed herself to be taken down into the courtyard, and by the time she had gained it she was no longer blind with wrath but fortified by it, and ready to take up the Challenge of Title so clearly given.

So fruitlessly as well, she smirked as she came to a halt, suddenly aware that the dagger in her hand had been replaced by her own sword. She shot a look brimfull of victory into Roan's eyes.

"For you, my love. Her lungs, this I do promise...."

But to all the Sith present, the term "unexpected" didn't come close to describing their utter surprise at it's outcome.

It wasn't that Kreesha was inept. Far from it, as the mate to the Dark Lord of the Warriors and warrior herself, she was one of the most skilled in the way of such, in battle and tactics and challenges thus dealt with on the field of honor. But it was the latter ideal that was to lead to her unexpected defeat at the hands of Graysith. For Kreesha battled with the honor of thousands of generations of Sith warriors behind her, while Graysith...

While Graysith, disdaining the ease with which she could defeat this wench with her Claw, had set it aside to strike back with every lick of strategy and skill she had learned from one of the darkest and most powerful of the dark jedi ever to stride pridefully through the universe:

Darth Wicked.

It was laughably effortless for her to keep Kreesha off-balanced by cunning application of force shove, or using the mere Force to send dust flying into her eyes to blind her, easy enough for the final blow when Graysith sent herself flying overhead in a great Force-boosted leap, lashing down inexorably with RoraKessh even as she soared over Kreesha, her blade ringing down to clamor against the uplifted one of the Sith, to knock it crashing from her hands and skirling away across the stones.

She landed on both feet, her knees bending to absorb the shock, and whirled like a panther. Once more RoraKessh lashed out, this time even as she turned, but as unerringly correct in its trajectory as if it had eyes of its own with which to see.

The flat of the blade impacted against Kreesha's knees, and she was sent crumpling down upon the cold stones. She had scarcely landed when Graysith was there, the tip of RoraKessh at Kreesha's throat.

Her violet eyes stared down into Kreesha's.

"Perhaps the dark jedi were strong enough at that," she murmured, then quickly placed her foot upon Kreesha's throat. The Sith warrior's hands came up reflexively, grasping about her ankle, claws digging deeply, seeking the Achille's tendon. But Graysith had set that foot down just so, and all Kreesha could do was tug against the foot which steadily bore down with greater and greater pressure.

Graysith looked up to Roan, read the inevitable in his eyes. Smiling, she shook her head.

"Not death," she murmured. "It is not necessary, for I have defeated her."

Then she turned her attention back to the fallen warrior. Her sword arm raised high, came swooping down, once... twice... and Kreesha lay completely dehorned beneath her foot.

The Chosen Daughter then placed the tip of RoraKessh into Kreesha's mouth, forcing it open... and now using the Claw reached in and slowly but successfully knocked out her four fangs in quick succession. Then drawing the claw back, she lifted it to Kreesha's forehead.

"That you shall never forget," she whispered sweetly, even though she doubted the Sith ever would.... and proceeded to inscribe her name on the flesh of Kreesha's forehead, emblazoning it there with her first touch of the All that it would remain there for the rest of Kreesha's life.

Which, knowing of the pride these Sith carried, she somehow doubted would be much longer....

She ended the dishonor by raising RoraKessh for a final time, and sending it down straight and true against one of the hands yet holding her by the ankle. That hand was neatly severed from the arm, it's bleeding stump quickly knocked away as Graysith flicked it from her with her sword, watching the golden tattoo become dull and lifeless even as that severed hand bled away what life it might yet have in it.

Then she merely walked up to Roan, and held up her wrist.

"By laws of your own, I rightfully reclaim title as Dark Lady of the Warrior clan of the Sith," she said. She then turned round once, twice, that all the Sith who had come would see it blazing there in golden victory upon her wrist.

The third time she turned, Kreesha was nowhere to be found. In her place were several blotches of blood, four fangs, and her long and beautiful horns. Graysith returned to that place of victory and found where the warrior's sword had been flung; with a quick motion she retrieved it from the ground and raising it high then broke it over her knee.

Then, her flaring Glyph leading the way, she whirled and entered into the Temple, to find her daughter and to take up the place within its walls she had earned.

...then her eyes darkened even further, and she smiled.

"So strong..."

It may have been the whisper of a breath of wind... or the merest of utterance falling from her lips. The approaching Dark Lord really didn't know, nor did he care as he came up behind her slight figure.

A hand bearing a dagger raised...

Graysith raised a hand of her own, almost as an afterthought.

"You should know better than that, Ankrist," she said smoothly, now turning around to view him directly. Her visage darkened with pleasure to see the hideous intermix of pain and rage playing upon his own.

"And what did you expect, Ankrist?" she continued, now turning slightly sideways and taking up her daughter's sweaty hand. She raised the palm of it to her lips in a cool kiss, then held it thus, considering.

The sudden motion a near blur, she took the Claw and incised about her Tattoo... held it over her daughter's wrist, pressing wrist to wrist. And when she pulled away, half that mysterious sigil was imprinted into the very cells of ShaRhylla's flesh.

She whirled then, and stared steadily at Roan.

"She is your daughter as well, and your firstborn," she said, knowing this to be true.

He scowled, but could not deny the truth of her words. He struggled with himself for a moment, then with a growl of anger threw the dagger from him. Coming up, he curled his lip in derision, then swiftly repeated the rite she herself had just performed. And when he pulled his wrist away from ShaRhylla's, it was to reveal the entirety of a new Tatoo of Entitlement as part of her flesh, one half of the House of Roan, the other half House of Q'utaro.

Graysith smiled sweetly.

Erik Kartan jolted from his semi-thoughtful state to full alertness when something within him...

...some sort of "hole" created in the Force by the disappearance of his wife and son...

...snapped back into place. But something wasn't quite right still, he could sense it on a gut level...

...and he could somehow sense it from her as well. She was so very faint...

Where are you? he thought through that link they shared, hoping that in the distance she could pick him up as well.

But to no avail. A simple and very real chill instead raced through him...

...and whether it was from the mere fact Shayla wasn't responding or something else entirely, Erik couldn't be certain. He tried reaching to her several times with the same results, and with each attempt his deep brown eyes grew more distant and more concerned.

If he couldn't get her to respond, he couldn't figure out where she was...

...not without a clue of some sort.

So he was right back to square one even though he knew she lived...

...though this strange lack of response from her implicated something Erik didn't even want to consider right now.

Proximity alerts began to register on the navboard of the warship then, the red light of one particular sigil indicating his approach into Sith space, and the eminence of reversion. He turned his eyes to the navboard then, his brown eyes defocusing a bit as the cold reality hit him.

If Shayla isn't responding, then this is STILL your only chance of locating her...

As if on cue to that particular thought, the warship reverted to realspace...

...and established orbit around the primary planet of the system: Khar Delba.

The voice was most definitely Shayla's, but she sounded drained...and pained. He frowned darkly as her words fell into his worried mind. "I'm on Sullust in the Azure Planetoid, Room 423. Please hurry...I need you so badly..."

The comm fell silent even before he could reply, so he stretched out through the Force for her. Again, she was there, but unresponsive. His frown only deepened.

I'm coming... he thought out to her, programming the warship for a little "sidetrip" before he went to Sullust.

No way could he pick his wife up in this warship...

...and he had the feeling he was going to have to do so in person...

Glancing at the Sith world before him once more then, Erik reoriented the ship then to the appropriate departure vector, and punched the hyperspace sigil. Once more the ship simply glided right into hyperspace, and Erik couldn't help but frown even more darkly, knowing on a gut level that something horrible had happened to his wife.

Dammit, Tyberius...what did you do to her...?

(((OCC: Follow Erik Kartan to The Lion's Den in the CSWU. Thank you.)))

Aeylmaar gave his adopted Father a direct glance, his amber eyes unwavering before the volcanic pair before him.

"Now, Father?" he said simply, his voice quiet and controlled even though every inch of his body was trembling with barely restrained excitement.

The great Dark Lord of the Sorcerers inclined his horned head, closing his eyes briefly in acknowledgment. And when he lifted his face, it was to find his adopted son had vanished.

He smiled.

"Such matters are not of concern to us. You will come about, and return this ship to Khar Delba immediately."

His smile only broadened when Aeylmaar raised a hand and departed from the warship, not deigning to speak so much as another word.

Following his instructions to the letter.

Lord Aelvedaar waved a clawed hand before the Octahedron, and the image of Aeylmaar and Erik swirled into obscurity even as behind him now Aeylmaar stepped from literally nowhere and came up to his side.

He turned to him with a smile, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Well done, my son."

"You did well, my chosen heir," he intoned, placing a clawed hand on Aeylmaar's shoulder. "But this one has apparently chosen to ignore your words...."

With that he turned to the Octahedron, raised both arms, reached out through the All...

Somewhere in hyperspace....

...and within the warship the cyberbiotic brain awoke. It immediately sensed the Calling from its Master, the singing of the Beacon, the Beckoning Home...

...and smoothly popped an emergency override into play, turned itself about in hyperspace, reoriented, and headed toward the unknown space where a dim little star existed with it's twin children....

Still in hyperspace...

Erik hadn't moved an inch from the controls of the Sith warship since the moment he'd known he was most likely headed for Khar Delba. He still had absolutely no control of the ship whatsoever, and had just been reminded of that situation when a light again flashed on the navboard to join the steadily glowing green one that had been since this whole affair had begun.

The new flashing light came from a sigil he recognized: the proximity indicator. He frowned a bit at that, knowing that this usually occurred right before hyperspace reversion.

But this ship was NOT reverting. Rather she continued to blast on her hyperspace course. Erik wondered if he had angered the Sith so much that they were about to get rid of him altogether.

But then, that wouldn't get them their blasted ship back in anything but pieces. Besides, knowing this ship, she could probably revert from hyperspace in but a second and land on an Imperial credit...

Erik wondered just where the ship was going to land, considering Khar Delba, unlike K'eel Doba, had absolutely no spaceport. At least, there wasn't one that Erik was aware of...

And then it happened. In the matter of the blink of an eye, the warship just stopped,, a move that would have been completely impossible for any other ship. But not for this one, apparently.

Erik stood a bit hesitantly, gazed out of the viewport, and wondered just where the hell he was on Khar Delba...

Ahhhh...when dreams become reality, how strange it is...

...but was the return of the Sith a dream, or a nightmare...?

Erik didn't know what to think anymore, considering all the questions that had been raised. But now he'd have to decide, for until he found passage off-world, he was stuck here...

...with all the reborn Sith.

Erik pursed his lips as he considered this, then his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar yet distant little niggle.

Where are you...? Shayla queried.

Erik frowned, knowing he'd have to tell her, uncertain as to how she might respond.On Khar Delba, order to return the Sith warship...

...I don't know how I'll get back to you...

...but I will.

Even as he made this little promise along that treasured Force-link, Erik gathered his wits about himself, and proceeded out of the warship and towards the city, making all due haste and fully intending to not even stop til he reached the Great Temple.

Shayla wanted answers concerning the Sith...

...and he'd be damned if he wouldn't get them while he was trying to figure out just how he'd ever fullfill his promise to return to her...

...a fact Erik was rather thankful for. To those who might have been onlooking, he sure the hell hoped he looked like he felt right at home here and that absolutely nothing was wrong. At length he approached the steps to that Great Temple, a Temple he had visited not so long ago in a much different mental frame of mind. Immediately he proceeded inside, and stretched outward with his senses to feel the presence of Dark Lord Aelvedaar...

...only to come up with nothing. Granted, Erik wasn't all that surprised, but he'd hoped otherwise. A little tendril of anger made itself known at that. Dammit, I really AM stuck here...

gods Shayla, I hope you'll be allright...

He jerked his thoughts from this and sighed, not knowing anything else to do but wander the corridors of the Temple til he could come up with some sort of plan. All the while Erik's mind was full of images, full of memories of times gone by. So clearly he remembered coming to this very planet and being captured...

...so clearly he remembered Shayla's struggle to admit her feelings to him and their interactions with the Sith. In all this, he'd never truly sensed anything untoward from Lord Aelvedaar...

...he'd seemed somewhat distant, perhaps, but not manipulative...

...and Aeylmaar? He'd greeted he and Shayla and the others which such eagerness and with such kindness...

...so how had this all so suddenly and inexplicably changed into something so completely reverse? Was it simply a matter of timing, or had nothing really ever changed at all?

Who was the true master manipulator: Aelvedaar...or Roan?

Erik didn't know where to start with the questions he had, and with the questions he knew his wife had as well. And, at this point, he wasn't altogether certain that he'd find someone who could answer them...

...let alone someone who actually would.

She didn't even stop, but waved an arm and allowed the All to open that door for her. With no hesitation in her stride whatsoever she came within, coming to a halt beside the elaborately curtained bed. A sweep of one arm revealed its warm sanctum: it was empty.

The Glyph flashed one more time, then channeled down the electromagnetic spectrum as a slight noise came wafting to her ears. Graysith let her smile lead her the remainder of the way through this beautiful room she once shared with Recinis, passing the immense fireplace and coming to the doorway leading out onto the balcony.

ShaRhylla stood there, limned against the flickering twilight, her slim figure outlined by the celebratory noises coming up from the courtyard below.

Graysith's smile turned predatory... then she masked that expression beneath one of motherly concern. In one flowing motion she was beside her daughter, one arm going around her shoulders, the other making an expansive motion outward, indicating the city of Phrinnchatka which lay below.

"Soon this shall be yours, ShaRhylla, and more...."

She fell silent then, her grip tightening a bit around ShaRhylla's shoulders before her arm dropped and joined its fellow in front of herself. Beside her ShaRhylla remained silent, but took a small step sideways, to stand closer to her.

The Supernova glided smoothly from hyperspace and achieved a graceful and quick orbit around K'eel Doba under Shayla Stargazer Kartan's touch. Immediately thereafter, she stretched sensors out...

...both those of her ship and those of her own mind...

...to access the nearby area. The Supernova reported a large massing of ships on the outskirts of the system, and Shayla frowned, consciously aware of the implications in this. Likewise, Shayla easily sensed her husband nearby...

...but it was not this all-too-easy find which grabbed Shayla's attention. Something of despair...

...and hope...

...crept into Shayla's very being, as that oh-so-familiar little tremor prodded her Force-senses.

Could it be true...?

Shayla couldn't help herself. Hoping that her very own senses were not decieving her, and consciously admitting a need to know and a longing to find...

...Shayla stretched out along a Force-link she'd established after the All had been removed from her.

Graysith, is that you? she thought quietly and hopefully, finding a possible silver lining in the dark cloud which had been enveloping her very soul since she'd discovered the truth regarding her son...

"Shayla Kartan," he mused as with a quick flick of one finger he returned the monitor to standard operations mode.

Owner of the "Supernova," recently purchased on cash basis in Piriingisi. YT-2000, standard armament and shielding, sleek and fast...

...and suddenly coming in from nowhere to arrow down upon the K'eel Doban surface.

The Captain sniffed, scratched his nose idly.

Never heard of her. But her presence here bodes no good, that's a certainty....

"Shall I deploy a wing to destroy, Captain?"

Landarian started from his reverie, now turning to the lieutenant who was standing at a stiff attention at his side. He blinked, then shook his head.

"Negative pursuit, Lieutenant," he replied. "We have strict orders to maintain at station-keeping only. But send a transmission to Lt. General Tarnus; I'm certain he will find this bit of information most interesting."

He returned the lieutenant's snappy salute, then paused him as he turned to carry out the order.

"Lieutenant... if that ship or any other tries to depart this system, tractor it in."

Then he turned back from the younger officer and settled himself in his captain's chair.

What in blazes was happening out here in the boonies? And how in all the universe would anyone know of a planetary system long lost in myth and rumor, a system he himself could find little information about, in spite of the literary wealth the Empire held in its hand?

He shook himself yet again, and settled down to doing what Imperial ship's captains do best, when they're not actively fighting.

Waiting.

She blinked. The Glyph ravened.

Shayla--

With insidious ease her All-talents created a careful block, that nothing would return to the young woman other than what she herself chose to return... in this case that return being a carefully maintained feeling of surprise touched with happiness. Behind that block, her thoughts whirled.

How easy to simply block this feeble Force-link altogether, she mused. But then--

Smiling now, she allowed a feather-light touch to return along the link.

Shayla, you have found me, here on K'eel Doba. But... I sense sorrow....

I thought you might have been dead...

...the Sith warship was called back to Khar Delba with my husband still aboard...

...and my little boy...

Her thoughts broke at this for a moment, and tears began to flow once more. I was drugged by Master Tyberius...

...and my son no loner responds to me...

She cut her gaze abruptly downward to where Lord Roan was standing strong and lordly among the lesser Sith, condescending now and then to comment or acknowledge some comment given in turn to him. With eerie cognition, he turned up his head, his turquoise eyes now flaring upward directly into Graysith's violet pair.

Unspoken communication danced along that connection. Graysith tightened her grip about Sha Rhylla's shoulders.

Then--

"Where are you now, Shayla?" she purred smoothly, allowing just the right touch of relief to escape with her words along that trembling link she still allowed her adept to maintain with her.

I am currently orbiting K'eel Doba, came the reply. I came with the intent to then go after my husband...

...and by chance also found you...

Now none may enter save those who know how to trigger this lock, he mused to himself, nodding his horned head in satisfaction of his work. Indeed, his apprenticeship in the ways of Sith sorcery had grown in leaps and bounds under the careful tutelage of Lord Aelvedaar; his discovery that the one claiming to be heir to the Rean title was no more than imposter had prompted the Dark Lord of the Sorcerers to allow him to create his own means of preventing anyone from entering into the warship.

It is safe, even from other Sith, Ayelmaar mused, now reaching the chambers where Lord Aelvedaar waited. Holding his horns low in respect, he entered, pausing at the door to bow. Waved on, he went forward and came to a stop beside his adopted father.

"It is done," he said simply, falling silent then as he had nothing more to say at that moment. A particular look from Aelvedaar spurred him on, however; gathering courage to question the Dark Lord, he went on:

Once. Slowly.

"He is inconsequential, and Khar Delba a large planet," he stated flatly, the words uttered softly yet somehow ringing about his chambers.

"You come here, to K'eel Doba, rather than Khar Delba?" she then wondered. "You choose not to go to the side of your husband, yet come here to the place from which we had fled?

"Such loyalty.... Come to Ch'arlingua."

Pulling herself into the reality of her immediate surroundings, she now tilted her head to her daughter.

"Remain here, ShaRhylla," she said simply; then letting her arm drop from the young woman's shoulders Graysith turned and left, heading for the courtyard and the festivities she had so recently left.

...but still this troubled her. Wasn't it all too convenient, too easy?

Even at that, a small portion of Shayla's mind was cognizant of the fact that she was dreading admitting to her husband that their son had been harmed due to her own daring mission...

...a mission which he had not wanted her to fullfill on her own. She frowned even as the spaceport began to come into view in the viewport of her YT-2000.

She couldn't simply abandon him and not be honest with him...

...it wasn't fair after all the trust he'd placed in her.

But Shayla needed someone who could understand the motherly loss she was feeling as well...

...and that was something Erik couldn't do for her...

...and something that Shayla unconsciously knew Graysith could. And there was only one person in the Universe Shayla trusted aside from her husband...

...and that was her chosen sister.

Jerking herself from her thoughts, Shayla gracefully landed the Supernova and let her engines cool. Then, standing, she made her way out of the ship and locked it, making certain to carefully hide the lightsaber in the fabrics of her purple cloak as she began to head towards that sense that was Graysith. As she followed that link, along another forged in love yet felt she thought out:

Erik, I'm going to come for you. But first I'm getting some help...

...and perhaps some answers as well...

Graysith's brows rose as Shayla approached her. She blinked her violet eyes, sweeping Shayla with all her senses, then stared directly into Shayla's greeny-blue pair.

"You come to me armed. I find this... unsettling, to say the least..."

She cut herself off at that, her eyes growing momentarily vague as she recalled a seemingly distant memory of when she had made her own lightsaber disentegrate into the mere molecules it was made of.

In time you will have no use for such toys...

Shayla blinked to clear the sudden mist in her eyes. Then she refocused her gaze on Graysith, pulled her husband’s lightsaber from her belt, and simply dropped it, letting it fall with a dull thud upon the ground.

How she wished it would simply disentegrate now. For even with the possible protection it provided her, it hadn’t stopped her husband from being taken by force to Khar Delba, and it wouldn’t have stopped the drugging which in turn scarred her little child, possibly for life...

"Perhaps then you should not let your weapon from your side, Shayla," she said smoothly, holding it out to her to take.

As they turned and proceeded to do just that, a little tremor in the Force along a very cherished link spurred her to suddenly pause mid-step. She reached out a hand and placed it on Graysith's, then allowed her greeny-blues to fall into that violet pair again.

"My husband...?" she queried worriedly then.

"This much you know as do I, that he is on Khar Delba and to my knowledge perfectly safe. Why should you feel he has come to harm in any manner?"

She paused, casting a quick look upon Shayla. Then she turned forward again, entering into the little Sith tunnel transport and waiting until the younger woman followed her in.

...how can I be certain that he will remain safe? He's stranded," she said with emphasis, "And I haven't told him about the baby..."

Shayla trailed a moment, but kept her cool. "I want to come with you to Prinn'chatka...

In very short time it stopped, the door sliding noiselessly open. Graysith stepped out upon the tarmac at the edge of the Ch'arlingua spaceport, once more holding her hand out.

You know you need Graysith in your life still...but have you ever once considered that perhaps she needs you as well? a little quiet voice whispered.

Shayla reached out a steady hand and laid it on Graysith’s arm, pushing all her own worries and emotions to the side for the moment. “I need my husband in my life...

...but I also need you, Graysith—Jharmeen. There are some things he simply can’t understand, and some places he simply can’t fill. You claimed me as a sister, and as my sister I love you. Once I’ve retrieved my husband I will return, for I know that there are enemies who yet remain in our path...and I wish to do everything I can to help you defeat them. Even now there are Imperial forces massing on the outskirts of the system...

...and I have more than ample reason to believe Master Tyberius is a threat to us.”

Shayla paused a moment. Then, “I will return as quickly as possible,” she reiterated, “You have my word, as your friend...and as your sister.”

She stood quietly, her hands clasped together upon her thrimm, the Claw of S'slan glittering as it reflected the lights of the spaceport, watching as the slim form returned to the freighter, fired it up and took off. Graysith tilted her head back, her neck arching gracefully as she watched that freighter climb higher and higher in the K'eel Doban skies until all that was visible was the distant light of its engines. Then that too dwindled until it appeared to be no more than another star in the deepening night.

Her lips curled.

Shayla halted at that, pursing her lips as the atmosphere of K'eel Doba faded into stars.

I'll be there in thirty minutes.

With nothing more than that, simply feeling the acknowledgement of her husband on that other end of the Force-link, Shayla turned her attentions to the navboard of the Supernova, did a little bit of careful calculating...

...and programmed the coordinates for Khar Delba into the hyperdrive as well as an accurate timer for the hit and fade jump, which would only last about five minutes.

Then she pulled the hyperspace lever and sat back in the pilot's seat, her senses keenly attuned to ship and her surroundings.

I'm ready and waiting, he thought back to her, still keenly aware that something had been upsetting her...

...but she still felt it was her fault.

Had she only LISTENED to him...

The proximity indicator was the only thing that could jolt her from these thoughts. It began glowing a steady red and bleeping the tune of imminent reversion, and Shayla reached for the hyperspace lever, kept steady greeny-blue eyes on the count-down, and pulled the lever right as it hit zero. Starlines faded into Khar Delban space as she achieved orbit around the planet, and quickly located her husband through her Force senses.

Better make this quick, she thought to herself.

As soon as she had mentally pinpointed her husband, Shayla broke orbit, and headed for the surface towards his Force-signature. As the ship began to slow and Khar Delban sunrise began to glint the cabin of the frieghter, Shayla locked onto that Force-signature, and began her landing cycle, making her landing coordinates so precise that Erik wouldn't have more than a three-minute walk to the Supernova.

The little frieghter continued its decent, and landed gently upon the Khar Delban surface under Shayla's piloting. Then, without even cooling the ship's engines, Shayla stretched out towards her husband, prompted him to hurry up...

"Nice ship," he opened with, taking the few steps necessary to close the gap between them and pulling her into his embrace. "I missed you."

Shayla didn't say anything, but merely wrapped her own arms about him and buried her face in his chest, her dark-blonde hair falling to completely cover her face. Her muscles seemed to go limp as her grip about him tightened, and suddenly a wracking sob rocked her, and she shuddered in his arms.

Erik's brown eyes grew almost vague with concern, and he didn't even bother to break the embrace he had about his wife, but rather thought out through the Force: What's wrong?

Shayla's grip about him only seemed to grow, and for a long moment she didn't respond. Then quietly, her body again trembling with sobs, she replied, The baby...

Suddenly her despair seemed to become a part of him as, with no more prompting necessary, Erik reached out along a paternal link to his son...

...only to be hit with a wall of utter silence rather than the lively mischievousness he'd encountered when he'd reached out to his little child before. He tried it again and again as Shayla remained completely silent, still trembling a bit but no longer sobbing. At length he reached out through that Force-link he shared with her, the two words he thought to her exceedingly gentle. What happened?

Again a long moment of complete silence fell upon them, the clicks and whirs of the cabin of the freighter all but unheard. Then, I was drugged...by Tyberius...

...it’s my fault for not listening to you...

Shayla’s thoughts surprised Erik. He was angry...

...but not at her. Rather, his anger was directed at someone else entirely, someone who had chosen to drug the woman who had willingly come to talk with him: Tyberius.

Only at that did Erik pull back from his embrace, keeping one arm around Shayla in support as he reached out with his other to take her chin in his hand and draw those desparing greeny-blue eyes of hers to his, feeling that actual words were needed here. “This is not your fault,” he said aloud, allowing his brown eyes to lock upon hers for emphasis. After a moment he took the hand under her chin and reached behind her head, pulling her gently to himself again, the cabin again falling completely silent for a moment that seemed frozen in time. In that moment, Erik found his anger only growing.

What I would LOVE to do to that bastard...

“There might be a chance for that,” she said quietly.

He arched a quizzical brow in her direction, so she continued on in clarification.

“Just trust me, we have to get back to K'eel Doba,” she explained a bit vaguely, allowing her eyes to do the rest of the talking as she let them mirror the urgency in her heart.

Erik didn't ask for any further explanation, but the look in his eye all but read Well let’s get going then, as though he somehow knew what Shayla did...

...and perhaps he did at that, through the Force-link he shared with her. He moved to the navboard, an arm still about her, and she only slipped from that embrace as she sat in the copilot’s chair, allowing him to take control of the ship.

Which he did. Needing no more than a moment to familiarize himself with the controls, Erik took the Supernova back to the skies and plotted a hyperspace vector, keenly aware of the urgency of the situation. In moments the Supernova faded from something visible into starlines, her arrival at K’eel Doba imminent due to the hit and fade piloting being utilized.

I’m on my way, Shayla thought out along that link Jharmeen still allowed her to maintain, keenly aware that her despair was slowly but surely fading its way to mirror the anger which she sensed within her husband even then.

A pair of Sith warriors appeared from the shadows and bowed from the waist. "M'lady," the aquamarine-eyed one of the pair acknowledged her presence, straightening up to stand in silent expectation.

"Set guards about the temple, and your best pair at the Heir's chambers," she said stonily. Her own eyes darkened a bit before she continued.

"It would appear that there is more amiss regarding our presence here, and this very representation of that which we are --" now she spread her hands out to either side of her -- "must be maintained. No one is to enter freely herein, save Lord Roan and myself; the temple staff are to remain within its walls, and any newcomers denied entry.

"You are warrior of the Sith, are you not -- Salandaar?" she finished, tilting her head to one side as the warrior's name flicked into her mind from his.

Salandaar flicked his eyes briefly to the brilliant orange ones of his companion. Then he returned to Graysith and bowed, this time more deeply than before.

"Head for the spaceport," Shayla said simply, with no other explanation.

He merely turned his attentions back to the navboard, calculated their entry vector, and pulled out of orbit. In but a few moments stars became atmosphere and atmosphere yielded it's way into a view of the planet below. The Supernova's engines slowed, and she began her descent under Erik's piloting. Soon he was completing the final landing procedures, picking a landing platform amidst various and sundry ancient-looking spacecraft.

We’re in the spaceport...

...and on the way to you.

Only then did she turn her greeny-blue eyes to Erik’s brown pair. “There isn’t any time to spare,” she said simply. “We need to be on our way.”

Erik didn’t even attempt to argue at this, but merely stood with his wife, wrapping an arm about her shoulder and guiding the way off the freighter, taking only a moment to secure it before they began to cross the tarmac of the spaceport on their way to find the Chosen Daughter of the Sith...

...and smiled.

"There are two who seek me, Salandaar," she thought out across the link she had made with the Sith guard earlier in obtaining his name.

"They are allowed entrance."

All this effort to bring a little life into the Universe...

...only for him not to respond to his mother...

Probably sensing the shift in her emotions, Erik’s grip about her tightened a bit. Then he frowned a bit, as if he were just becoming aware of something else. ”Roan is here,” he whispered, the tiniest bit of apprehension apparent in his voice.

Shayla simply nodded. “I know,” she replied, and simply left things at that as they approached the Sith transport and Erik stepped inside, helping Shayla inside. As they seated themselves and set the transport in motion, Shayla snuggled into his side and laid her head against his shoulder, and Erik let his arm go about her again. In the quietness of that moment, her greeny-blue eyes grew vague. ”What are we going to do if he never wakes up, Erik? Or worse...?”

He laid his head atop hers, and pulled her in closer to himself. “We’ll cross that bridge if and when we get there.”

Again the the transport fell into silence, and Shayla drew all the warmth that she could from the support Erik was providing her. In just a few more moments, the transport glided to a hault, and again Erik took the lead, helping Shayla back out of the transport. His arm went about her again, and they took the steps to the front of the temple, which was guarded by fearsome looking Sith warriors. At the head of them was a Sith with aquamarine eyes. Shayla stepped forward from Erik’s embrace, and bowed respectfully. Erik followed suit behind her. “We seek Graysith,” she said simply, somehow sensing there was no need for any other explanation than that.

Knowing the Temple fairly well due to their past times in the place, Erik easily lead Shayla back to the little lounging area connected to the Dining Hall, where they had spent much time in fellowship with others the last time they had been here. On one of the plush couches nearby the fire sat Graysith.

Shayla stepped out of Erik's embrace, and for some reason unbeknownst to even herself felt the need to kneel once more, her dark blonde hair falling about her face as she did so. Then she looked up, her greeny-blue eyes only for Graysith's. "I have returned as promised, as your friend, as your Sister...

"No need for such supplication, sister," she said smoothly, smiling toward her and then briefly to Erik. "I am pleased that fortune has presented itself in such a manner that we can meet once again. But as Adept--"

Now she rose to her own feet and paced over to a nearby sideboard where she took a plate and began filling it with food. She remained silent during this, the great vastness of the chamber silent as well save for the strangely echoed tick, tick, ticks as fruits and nuts and meats were placed upon the exotic metal of the platter. At length she turned back to Shayla and Erik, plate in hand.

"That is something of Lord Aelvedaar's doing, over which I have no control," she finished as she then went to the hearth, there to stand seeming to mull as she idly began to eat. The crackling flames lit her face, warming her features, and adding new fire to her hair.

"My familial sister Galen is gone, Shayla," she said abruptly, still speaking to the flames. "Long ago; she is filled with despair and mistrust. I seek to amend something of what has been done to her in the past; I sent you to Kamino seeking her daughter. Tell me, did you find JhinDarra, as I asked of you? Have you placed her somewhere for further keeping? Is she safe and well?"

Shayla paused at that, pursing her lips slightly. "I do not know if there is any way to gain Tarnus's trust as well as allow Galen to see her daughter again; I also let her know her child was on Kamino, and even had a brief rendezvous with one of Terrin Danner's men, Jasyn Lancaster. Lancaster took off for Kamino himself before I could let him know Darra was on Coruscant, and that was when I had my encounter with Tyberius..."

Again Shayla quieted briefly, and her look darkened. "I fear with Terrin Danner's death we've lost the only person who might have trusted us enough to return Darra safely to Galen, and even that was uncertain with his demeanor shortly before he died. I worry this might be a problem in the future...

...for there yet remains at least one certain threat to JhinDarra's life, one very formidable one: Tyberius. It may matter not whether she is in the safety of her mother's arms or buried deeply within the Empire...

...for the last time I spoke with Tyberius, he told me that the Universe was in grave danger with the return of the Sith...

...and once more stated that ShaRhylla, as well as Darra, must die..."

With that Shayla simply trailed, and her eyes darkened further as her anger with that shadowy personage began to take the upper hand, growing by leaps and bounds with each passing moment...

"Hostilities with the Empire?" she began at length, toying a bit with a piece of fruit on her plate. She lifted it to her lips, took a small bite.

"I was not aware there were any... hostilities between the Sith and the Empire. But--"

Cutting herself off, she turned away from Shayla and Erik, and stared long and hard into the flames which danced in the hearth.

Coruscant.

It was a long moment before she spoke up again.

"What we of the Sith do now, will in itself bespeak of the relationship we seek within this Empire," she began. "The death of Terrin Danner is indeed unfortunate, and something I can do nothing about... but his death is not the end-all of the relationship of which I speak. The Sith and the Empire will come to terms, this I promise you. But this Master Tyberius--"

Again she broke off, now turning about to face Shayla and Erik once again. For a long moment she simply stared at them, her eyes dark and flat. Behind her the fire limned her with its light.

"The All is in itself not the judicial force by which this galaxy shall be run. It is not to be used for this whim or that; not for one threat or another. I will allow no Sith to learn of its use; in this I do agree with Lord Aelvedaar. What comes to play, what actions are taken, whether they be preemptive, responsive, or retaliatory, against whatever action fate should decree to happen, will not be with the automatic use of this power."

She paused, moving now to set her plate upon the sideboard. Once again she spoke, her voice soft but filled with meaning.

"And thus it is I put you to task. Seek out this Tyberius, by whatever means you can; discover his true intentions, what reason it is he has to seek the deaths of my daughter and my niece. Bring him here to me, if possible. But now--"

She paused, a smile on her face. Her eyes remained dark.

"Thank you for this."

The Glyph ravened into life then, as the Chosen Daughter flung back her head, and now sent her talents questing in a prescribed direction. With the strength of the All to give foundation, she easily broke through the simple planetary blocks Lt. Tarnus had placed about the planet-city at the heart of the galaxy, sensing now about the entire populace for one particular living entity...

...which she abruptly found.

Her smile widened as she made a peculiar motion of one hand, opened a portal through the all, and stepped through.

It closed behind her, leaving nothing but silence and the crackling of the fire in her wake.

((OOC: Follow Graysith into the underworld of Coruscant in Return To Tomorrow in the "Empire/New Republic" forums, thank you.))

For a moment then she simply stood frozen in place til Erik responded by taking her hand and standing up himself. His brown eyes met hers, the concern still there, taking pre-eminence over his anger with Tyberius. She reached for his face and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, letting her greeny-blues fall into the depths of those browns then. "We embark upon this task together," she whispered softly.

Pulling slightly away from him then but leaving her hand in one of his she used her free one to motion forward. "Shall we...?" she queried, turning to him and cocking her head slightly.

He smiled in return, never saying a word or needing to do so for Shayla to read his his heart. With nothing more than that then, they departed the Warrior's Temple and the capital city of Prinn'chatka for the Supernova, not stopping until they'd hit the skies, retrieved coordinates for Kamino via a short exchange with a Stargazer Corporation staff member...

...and blasted off into the blanket of hyperspace towards that very destination.

(((OCC: Follow Shayla and Erik to Emissary in the CSWU. Thank you.)))

FROM "RETURN TO TOMORROW":

That's how they ESCAPED...

He leapt forth to the departing back of Graysith...

...through a portal...

And, so it was... Edgar could only hope he would come out on the other end, whereever that might be...

Not only could he not appear before the Lt. General without his daughter, but to tame the one called Graysith... that would be the key to the fast track he's been after all along...

Either way, most likely he'd never see Coruscant again...

Graysith did not gracefully step through the portal into the Great Temple of the Warriors of the Sith so much as she was literally flung through, as Edgar's desperate lunge sent him slamming into her back. She stumbled in surprise, the force of his impact combining with the force of her body slamming into the cold stone tiles of the temple being enough to send Darra flying from her arms.

But no harm came to the little girl. Even as she shook her head, her eyes flashing in anger, the Glyph ravening upon her forehead, she caught movement from the corner of her eye: it was Salandaar and his companion, coming now to protect her from the obvious threat. As Graysith rose to her feet, wrapping her composure and dignity and ire about her along with her cloak, she saw the former warrior was now holding the child, albeit somewhat inexpertly. His quick action had prevented Darra from hitting the floor as Graysith had done.

Now the remainder of her surroundings came into focus; they were in the great pillared foyer, which was rapidly filling with Sith warriors. Their multi-hued eyes flashing, deadly Sith blades pointing, they ringed their Dark Lady and the stranger who dared to touch her person. In fact even as Graysith composed herself one came bursting forward, an exotic-looking spear aimed for Edgar's throat.

A swift motion of one pale hand halted him in his tracks.

"No," she said, the order succinct but complete. The warrior came to an abrupt halt, panting a bit. Then he stalked backward to his place among the ring of Sith.

Now Graysith turned round to face the lieutenant. She smiled darkly, noting the look upon his face. The Claw gleamed upon her finger then as she waved a hand to one side, indicating the warriors and the chamber and any and all connotations the young Imperial could take from their strangeness.

"This is why the Empire shall fail," she purred smoothly, her upheld hand still holding the warriors in their place. It then moved a fraction.

And in the strong arms of the nodding Salandaar, Darra merely bubbled and cooed as a squad of warriors stepped forth to hasten the young Imperial away.

((OOC: The post following this one has been deleted by its author on 4-13-03. Basically, Edgar straightens up and says, "Fail?" That is all, thank you.))

"Yes," she purred, her voice deepening to match the hue of her eyes. "Fail.

"For fail it certainly will... when the time comes for it. And oh, my fine boy, it shall come. Indeed, it shall come. This I promise you, and perhaps..."

She paused, now gliding up to Edgar to stare deeply into his eyes as if seeking something. A pregnant silence followed, which she let stretch out even further before finally nodding and turning away.

"...perhaps I shall let you live to see this Great Thing with your own eyes."

With that she clapped her hands, whirled and set off from where she was, nodding to the Sith to follow along with their reluctant guest. With no further ado she led the way to the Great Dining Hall, where she moved gracefully up to a beautifully carved sideboard, one groaning with food. Taking up an intricate crystalline goblet, she poured herself a jot of Sith wine, then placed herself artistically alongside the hearth of the great stone fireplace in which flames crackled and leaped.

Still smiling, she lifted her goblet to the young Lieutenant, as if in a toast.

And never once did she so much as blink.

((OOC: The post following this one has been deleted by its author on 4-13-03. Basically, Edgar approaches Graysith, took the goblet, drank the wine, and put the goblet back into her hand. That is all, thank you.))

She leaned forward just a bit, her breath warm upon Edgar's skin.

"In some cultures that would constitute a binding marriage," she purred in a low whisper. "And in others, a challenge to the death."

The Glyph flared on her brow, shining brilliantly into Edgar's eyes and causing him to squint. Her red lips still curled in a smile, she backed up a step, the Glyph howling down as well, raising a hand as she did in warning to Salandaar and his squad, who hovered anxiously nearby ready to take action in her defense, unnecessary though that might be.

"As I said, I may let you live that you see with your own eyes this... definition of position over the Empire, as you so poetically state, as well as the inevitable outcome of that meeting. Anything other than this small taste of what is to come is of no concern to you now."

The smile fell from her lips like the last autumn leaf finally baring the tree for winter, and she glided past Edgar to take up another goblet of wine. Sipping the heady spirit, she turned to Edgar and with one hand indicated the sideboard, inviting him to come and partake of whatever he would like.

"You were foolish to do what you did, young one," she hissed, "as well as to ignore my hospitality when you had the chance to partake of it."

Now she smiled the smile of a predator, one hand flashing upward to halt the forward progress of Salandaar, who at her last comment had begun to round upon the young Imperial. Edgar still remained silent, but now there was something guarded flashing in his eyes, and they flicked back and forth between the Sith warriors and Graysith.

Graysith smiled a crocodile smile.

"Be certain to tell Tarnus that all his Reborn shall not be enough," she repeated the comment she had replied to Edgar while still in underground of Imperial City. Then before anyone could so much as blink, she waved her hand but once.

A portal through the interstices of space and time immediately opened up behind Edgar, who barely had the time to turn and confront it when Graysith waved that slender hand yet again...

...and with a push of her talents sent the lieutenant sprawling back to where she had found him with Darra.

The portal closed with a little snik as the Chosen Daughter turned back to Salandaar with a smile.

ShaRhylla's uncannily bi-colored eyes fluttered at the sensation, and she opened them. For a moment they flicked from side to side in their sockets as she glanced a bit vaguely about herself; then they steadied and affixed to the abyssal pair above her. Her lips parted slightly, worked a bit as her tongue came out to wet them, but before she could so much as utter one word her mother placed a cool hand atop them, interrupting her by that one smooth action.

"Now we are Three, ShaRhylla," Graysith said in a soft and completely assured whisper, her own lips curling sensuously as the hand covering ShaRhylla's mouth now moved to stroke her cheek. Her daughter lay unblinking beneath that touch, simply staring in up at her, unvoiced questions shining in her violet-ringed turquoise eyes.

A certain sort of smile crossed Graysith's features.

"You will know of this, but only when the time is right. And now my child, rest."

Her hand slid over to cover ShaRhylla's eyes, and she could feel her daughter's lids close obediently beneath the flesh of her palm. For although her daughter grew stronger with each passing day, she was not yet well enough to bear the future Graysith had planned for her. Mortal flesh cannot endure the travails of the very depths of hell and recover from it in mere hours or days, whether or not that flesh encapsulated the awesome strengths of the All. And she needed ShaRhylla in absolute physical, mental and emotional perfection, knowing that the passage had given her a strength and maturity way beyond her years.

Graysith's lips curled further and her eyes slitted as by the flickering light of the dancing flames she watched her child fade slowly back into the recesses of restorative slumber.

Soon, my child, she promised her.

Soon.

((OOC: Continues in The Point of No Return in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))