The frustrated young ensign stood at rigid attention, his eyes glued to an imaginary spot somewhere over the left shoulder of his superior officer. He did not move a muscle or even so much as blink as he awaited immediate discipline, clearly expecting the worst.

Surprisingly, for the Imperials had never been known to have velvet-gloved hands, at least not in Palpatine's day, it never came. The officer on deck merely paced around the debriefing room and finally took a seat back at the desk before which he had been standing.

"Did you get the signature of that vessel, Ensign?" he asked mildly. His fingers splayed out on the shining metal of the desk as he waited for a reply. It was not long in coming.

"Sir, yes Sir!"

The ensign opened his mouth as if to offer more, wisely closed it. This was not unheeded by his superior.

"And you have already initiated a trace of it's identity?"

Again came the immediate and affirmative reply, celery crisp. The officer nodded, turned from the ensign, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

"Two extra watches, over two days," he said offhandedly. "You may go."

The echo of the ensign's boots sounded in his ears as he now opened a line to his superior, none other than the Second officer to the captain himself. A short but extremely informative discourse followed, which ended with:

"A hit and fade tactic was used as the vessel escaped, Sir. This is not something used often by the general populace; found among such riff-raff as smugglers and pirates and so on...."

He trailed; the Second obligingly filled the airspace with an almost offhanded, "Indeed; this is so."

Time crackled along the airways... and the Second returned.

"I have direct orders from the captain," he said without preamble. "Proceed with Chalarian-Echo, phase one. This system is becoming far too... busy for one that is supposed to be not only off the charts, but devoid of life!"

The link snikked to a close as the officer on deck rose from the desk, and from the debriefing room proceeded to the bridge. There he began implementing the delicate maneuvering of the immense super star destroyer into its own particular position in the blockading of Khar Delba and K'eel Doba. He smiled as the Relentless began moving out from where it had been lurking, taking her sister-hounds with her, and finally settled nicely into a high orbit around the extremely tilted planet of Khar Delba. He flipped on a connection to the outside, his lips now quirking as he watched the others begin placing themselves in exactly calculated positions from not just Relentless but from others, forming a gridwork of gleaming death which slowly but inexorably began to close about the planet like the jaws of a vise enclose what it grips. Elsewhere, K'eel Doba was being similarly blockaded.

A bulkhead broke in two as a door whooshed open, spilling Captain Landarian onto the bridge. He strode within and came to a stop, tall and firm, before enabling another switch to display what the officer had been watching onto the general screen. The officer on deck could see his captain's chest swell with pride as all hands jerked their attention briefly to take in that beautiful sight, then returned immediately to their individual tasks to make it so.

The Captain nodded in satisfaction and remained silent. He had his orders...

...which he proceeded to obey. He moved over to the communications officer, and leaned over his shoulder, his fingers busy on the gleaming board in front of him.

"Get me a link to Lt. General Tarnus, at this frequency," he ordered, rising up and giving his uniform jacket a jerk to straighten an imaginary wrinkle.

"I'll take it in my ready room...."

--------------------

The ship came out of hyperspace, and Phalomir eagerly looked out the viewport. He stared briefly at the ships orbiting his home world. Ominous and looming, he felt at first a slight fear, then a profound animosity at the beings that would dare intrude upon the masters of the galaxy and challenge their authority over the home planet of the Sorcerers. His thoughts rocketed, ranging from squeezing the life out of the metal monstrosities to totally obliterating the lot.

But it was the Eye that acted.

Phalomir felt a heat rise suddenly within him, his arms involuntary reaching outward. A fiery red energy shot from his hand, through the ship’s hull, and somewhere down to the planet. A strange rippling appeared before the ship and the scenery instantly changed to white whirling of snow.

The ship began to spin as Shayla yelled a disconcerted yelp.

Phalomir collapsed in his chair, gazing at the small hole in the hull, the mighty exterior winds whistling though it.

"Um... can you land it now?" he asked.

[ 07-16-2003 08:09 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by patternghost ]

--------------------

"What did you do back there?!" she managed after she stabilized the Supernova. But she never really listened for the response...

...not at that moment anyway. Instead she went to work at starting the landing procedure, praying all along to the gods that her piloting skills hadn't gone to heck over the course of the last couple of years...

...after all, she wasn't entirely certain she'd been doing much flying at the time. Fighting against the wind, Shayla managed to keep the ship from spinning once more, and began lowering her to the snowy ground below. Even as she did she asked the only question that popped into her head back in Phalomir's direction. "Now what, aside from figuring out how we're gonna fix the hull?"

--------------------

Ugghh....

A searing flash of red lanced down from nowhere, ripping into the body of the Dark Lord of the Sorcerers, grasping hold of his essence and taking it under its wing. That which he had taken such pains in learning to control shot back, sending him stumbling back against the glowing crystal he had been idly watching. His horns made a terrible screeching sound as they struck that crystal, the sound reverberating in cadence to the grunt which involuntarily escaped his lips.

Gasping, he turned, his volcanic eyes flying upward, seeking, seeing....

I see it not, but it is clearly there. This cannot be allowed.

Still leaning against the Octahedron, I now splay my hand against it, seeking it's own personal strengths even as She who I once chose used it to bring me forth unto this time. My eyes now explode along with the ravening energies I now channel, reaching outward, sending them back along the exact trajectory from which I had been hit.

Something is hit... lanced like a boil. I sense a distant explosion of sorts, a hazy shadow of a ship comes into my mind, along with an essence of two with whom I have once been acquainted...

Along with someone else.

--------------------

"Sir!" His voice rang out stridently. "I am detecting explosions on the surface; and there was a weird energy spike just prior to it! And for a moment I thought I detected that same ship coming back...."

He turned back to his controls as the officer on deck approached and leaned over his shoulder. The superior Imperial frowned, laying a hand upon the console. Indeed, this system was beginning to be a touch wee fiestier than he had ever expected it would be.

The ensign turned his face up to him.

"Shall I send out a probe, Sir?" he asked, his hand hovering.

The officer shook his head.

"We'll sit here and watch. Lt. General Tarnus is due here within the next day; remain at station keeping until his arrival."

"Yessir," came the obedient reply as the young ensign turned back to his post. The officer straightened, his eyes meeting those of the Second who had just entered the bridge.

They frowned across the expanse of the bridge.

--------------------

The blast blew through the same point that the previous hold had made, a larger one now there in its place. The energy deflected off of Phalomir’s glowing hand and shot backwards into the ship. An explosion rocked the ship, and an instant mix of heat and cold flooded the cabin as the winds blew strongly through the new opening.

Phalomir looked behind him and saw a ball of fire finishing its short life. He rose and ran to the back, instinctively calling forth the power of Sith magick to extinguish the flames. The smoke was still thick, concealing the damage, and he ran back to the front to check on Shayla and Erik.

“Are you hurt?” he called out. His energies already focusing on providing warmth and sealing the cabin.

--------------------

...particularly where that smoke is coming from. We might have a fried motivator or hyperdrive...

...or both. Not to mention the electrical systems are probably shot..."

At that Erik trailed, a thundercloud erupting in his brown eyes. For a moment he stood utterly quiet, then he turned and helped his wife to her feet and starting heading for the hatch, assuming that Phalomir would have the good sense to follow.

"I'd just love to know how you propose we get off this frozen rock of a planet now, considering that even if I could fix the ship, I don't have the parts to do so..."

Guess Shayla gave this ship the right name, unfortunately, he couldn't help but think darkly to himself even as he continued to walk, his wife by his side.

[ 07-16-2003 09:17 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Erik Kartan ]

--------------------

"The two who were here have returned, my son," I intone, striding to where he stands all wide eyes and mute questions. I smile, and lay an arm across his shoulders.

"There is... another with them, my dear Aeylmaar," I begin quietly, giving him a fatherly squeeze. "They have sustained damage to their vehicle; however, this will not prevent their arrival here in Choyapenthe. Although--"

Now I cease to speak, stretching out instead with my suddenly restored powers. I frown; I cannot help but think that perhaps coming to this city was not their first agenda. What that is exactly, even the great power of the All cannot divulge.

"Be prepared, my son," I finish with, and turn back to stare into the depths of the Octahedron. But, not having requested a specific scene to be shown, I see only whirling motes of green and gold, which only mirror the sense of unease which so suddenly begins to rise within me.

[ 07-16-2003 09:35 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

--------------------

And he smiled.

They had indeed landed more or less in the right area. He remembered the crooked peaks to the left, the slope ahead, and peak strangely shaped like an opening hand behind. He performed calculations in his head, walked in large circles, and traced a large rectangle with his boot. Finally he looked around once more and grinned broadly.

“This is it!” he called. Shayla and Erik were still too preoccupied to pay him any mind.

He lifted his arms high into the air and closed his eyes. He felt the energies within him combine with those provided by the Eye, feeding him the power and knowledge to perform the task at hand. He reached outward with his powers, as his father had taught him ages ago, which seemed only a scant few years to Phalomir. He felt the energies slicing through the snow and ice, molding over buried rocks, and sensing the proper triggers. Finally all was in place, and he trained his power downward, all of the triggers clicking at once.

The area completely surrounding the ship began to fall downward, slowly descending into the ice and rock as a cargo elevator in a freighter might when unloading. Shayla and Erik finally broke their concentration and turned gazes to Phalomir, whose hazel eyes gleamed with joy back at them.

“We are home!” he exclaimed. “Prepare to be amazed!”

--------------------

She fell silent for a moment then, still clearly surprised, not expecting anything like this to say the very least. With effort she tore her eyes from Phalomir to look at her gaping husband. His eyes all but read "Are you taking us somewhere to fix the ship or get a new one?"

She couldn't help but grin a bit in bemusement at this...

...but it was only for a brief moment. Once more she turned her eyes to the gleaming Phalomir, and she arched an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an explanation as to just what was happening.

[ 07-16-2003 09:47 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

Aeylmaar stammered, pointing in utter amazement. Directly in front of him, although less than three meters away, the great Dark Lord of the Sorcerers was nothing more than a fuzz-outlined silhouette.

Directly in front of him, the Crystal Octahedron was exploding into a joyous burst of the purest of gold, shining outward in all directions, sending palpable vibrations out, upward, away....

Elsewhere.

The Dark Lord remained motionless. Then he turned around, the movement slow and with great and unspoken import. His eyes pierced Aeylmaar's.

While behind him the Crystal Octahedron settled back into its normal, writhing greeny-gold and remained there.

--------------------

“This is the entrance to my father’s winter home,” said Phalomir. “This is where he performed his greatest work, and where he hid the secrets he wished me to know when the time came.”

The elevator descended further, picking up its pace. Finally it slowed and stopped, bringing its passengers level with a massive hall. Soft light filled the large room. The far walls were carved with intricate runes and images, large tables held many ornate figurines and busts, and books of all sizes lines shelves set into the walls. Several doors were set into the walls.

The temperature was pleasant, the snow already began falling from the ship. Phalomir still grinned and walked to a table, setting his pack upon it. He turned and called out to the couple, emerald eyes twinkling in the soft lights.

“We may rest here and begin work soon. I will prepare a meal! It is good to be home!”

Phalomir let his joy spread through him, feeling truly happy for the first time since… since before he could remember. A soft warmth in his midsection pervaded, however, and one of the many voices whispering around in his mind urged caution, even as the Eye opened to a possible threat lurking somewhere...

[ 07-16-2003 10:12 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by patternghost ]

--------------------

...nor could she help from noticing the tingling of some sort of strange and unspecified tremor in the Force, one she felt frequently along with the flashes of red from her vision. She frowned a moment, wondering at the meaning of it all...

...then turned to Phalomir, noting the way his emerald eyes glowed in happiness...

...

...Emerald eyes...? Weren't they hazel before...?

Shayla's brows shot up in surprise. And although it might have been the lighting she could have sworn that, as she followed Phalomir further inside his father's humble abode, there was the shadow of something that looked distinctly like Sith horns on the wall...

[ 07-16-2003 10:27 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

“The food here was sealed in various storage units. It should still be edible, I would wager, knowing my father there is some magick in there as well. I will make us all something.”

He bid Shayla to sit at one of the chairs around the small table in the room while he attended to the food preparation. “When Erik is finished looking at the ship, I would like to show him something that might make him feel better. There is a workshop here which he can use, complete with tools and raw materials. I don’t know if he can find exactly what he would need, but I’m sure various materials can be persuaded to bend and contract. My father was not the only member of the family whose blood held magick.” He pulled a block off of a shelf. “Ah, I hope you like blosch.”

He turned back to Shayla and winked, hazel eyes shining brightly.

"And," he added, "I would like to unload the cargo as soon as possible."

[ 07-18-2003 10:21 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by patternghost ]

--------------------

She couldn't stand it anymore. An inarticulate cry came from her lips, and she raised a hand. Then she stepped forward, directly toward the fire licking hungrily before her...

...only to step out into a cooling blast of mist and muted greens. From somewhere in the distance, a haunting cry sounded, echoing as though carrying all the cares of the universe along in that one, solitary note. She stood stock-still, cocking her head, letting herself calm down, hearing her own cry echo in harmony with the fading ululation which finally wailed away into obscurity.

Now she turned, striding across the Dagoban surface, her concentration on one goal only. Rustles and grumbles now came from the surrounding gnarltrees, accompanied by the papery whispers of the white spiders; she utterly ignored the sounds which had once brought her such comfort, and hurried on. And finally she came to her goal.

She paused there before the hunched and crooked grove, lifting her face into the palpable blast of coldness which emanated from it. For a moment she pursed her lips, considering what she had found the last time she had entered therein; the way shown had been so simple, so uncomplicated, so certain.

Now the parameters had changed.

Greatly.

Letting out an involuntary little sniff, she tossed back the flaming nimbus of her hair, getting the tendrils now damp with humidity away from her face. Then she straightened her shoulders, and entered into the shadows between the trees.

[ 07-19-2003 08:59 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------

"You came back," Wicked observed, cocking his head a bit downward to look at her from beneath his brows. The wondrous luster of his turquoise eyes was darkened a bit by something that approached but did not quite touch upon total madness.

"I missed you. Where did you go?"

Graysith worked her lips a moment.

"I returned to complete my destiny," she began but got no further than that. Dark Lord Roan let out an audible snort, crossed his muscular arms upon the broad expanse of his bared chest. It rippled with the glory of the tattoos of his clan.

"Your destiny!" he managed, shaking his head. And while his lips curled into a grin of mirth, the look he shot to her was one of pure malice and disgust. He moved one foot toward her, leaned forward, his lips curling even more.

"By whose authority?" The words gouged her ears like audible icicles. She shivered, straightened, held out her wrist.

"This," she said simply, holding her head high, watching the foursome in front of her with the greatest of care. Wicked licked his lips, Aelvedaar remained inscrutable, Recinis turned his back and Roan seemed to smile....

"No--" The whimper burst from somewhere deep inside her, finally freed from where she had buried it. She stared in desperate disbelief at the unmarred paleness of her wrist. That glance shot frantically toward the other hand; the flesh there was as unmarked as newfallen snow. Hurriedly she tucked her hands up inside the sleeves of her practice doba, even as deep within her breast the Beast lifted its lips in a warning growl.

Now Lord Roan took another step forward. "And you would lead us into a future of greatness!" he spat. He silenced then, staring down at her, beginning to shake as if being exposed to an almost unbearable affront to his person.

Beside him, Darth Wicked shook his head, took a step forward, laid his hands on each side of her face as he had done one day years in the past, taking up her hair and letting his mind flow into hers.

"I tried to teach you...."

"No!" She jerked back, pulling back from his grasp like a mount freeing itself from bridle and reins, took a step backward, another, and yet another. Her eyes shot to Roan.

"Our daughter...."

He merely snorted, once again crossing his arms in front of himself. "You let him kill me," he finally accused, then fell silent for a final time. At this, Lord Aelvedaar's hand shot out, as if he was about to mediate between them.

"The blood will mingle, as will the lines," he said. "This is so, this I have seen, the Triad shall be One. We all know it to be true."

Darth Wicked let out a maniacal laugh, and pulling out his lightsaber ignited it and began slashing at the gnarltrees. Recinis merely began striding away, as if seeking the shelter of the surrounding swamps. Aelvedaar merely shook his head and held his arms out to either side of him.

"Really, Brother, you know this to be true," he encouraged. Roan just let out something which was a cross between a guffaw and a bellow, then cooled into pure determination.

"For that to occur, She has to die. You know this." His brows lowered even further.

Aelvedaar cast a glance to the ground, keeping it there as though the very mysteries of the universe were unfolding right there between his toes. At last he raised his head. Sun met daylit sky between the pair of them.

"Yes," he whispered, then sighed.

Graysith merely shook her head, faster and faster, remaining mute, the Glyph blazing out against the entities within the grove but not succeeding in doing so much as ruffle a hair on anyone's head. Now she wrapped her arms about herself, found herself backing up, still shaking her head. Something rough and prickly slammed into her back; it was the trunk of one of the trees. She uttered a little gasp, sidled to the side, and backed some more.

The heavy mists of Dagobah were all around. Something large and probably very hungry flapped overhead, disturbing that chill, creating a more striking coldness within it. She shivered, cut her eyes to her wrist, where the Tattoo of Entitlement glowed a warm and comforting gold.

Then she opened a Portal through the All and returned to her chambers, the experience weighing heavy upon her heart.

[ 07-19-2003 12:53 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------

...and particularly at the notice of his hazel eyes.

WHAT was going on here...?

She frowned a moment then, a disquiet rising for a moment within her at the strangeness of it all. With effort though, she calmed herself and pushed the feeling away...

...even so, she took heed of it.

"Of course," Shayla said simply, getting to her feet. "I shall let my husband know at once."

For another moment she stood then completely silent, a wave of curiosity and that something else rising within her once more. "Phalomir..."

She paused, searching for the words, "How is it that I am to help Thoran. I don't belief I have met either of you and I know little of the Sith...

...or at least, I don't think I do..."

Trailing then she stood utterly silent, her eyes defocusing as a sense of nothing but pure loss tingled at the very corners of her mind.

--------------------

“I do not entirely know what your role in this will be,” he said, “but I do know that when I am freed from this body then I will be unable to aid Thoran. The Eye has a plan, I am sure.”

A sudden tug at his consciousness caused Phalomir to pause. A voice wafted through his mind.

She has returned. Go, speak with her.

“What?” he thought. “Who? How?”

He felt himself ripped from the control of Panthar’s body, then the familiar odd sensations of floating, and found himself in a room, or more precisely a living chamber. He glanced around at the surroundings, noticing the décor, the art, and the mirror… which held the image of a ghostly Sith with a surprised expression… his own.

The sound of the glass breaking on the floor and the brandy spilling made him turn…

----------------

Panthar’s turquoises eyes looked up at Shaya.

“My liege has gone to bye-bye,” he said. “I is the master of much, oh lady of the night. Please to welcome me?”

--------------------

Sorta like the eyes on some of those Sith...

The thought gave Shayla pause. Could these be the eyes of the Sith who were now trapped in Panthar's body...?

Snapping back to alertness then, she continued with, "I'll also see that the statues which Phalomir requested us take from the Sith Temple are unloaded."

With nothing more than that Shayla then turned on her heel, beginning to head back towards the damaged Supernova and leaving Panthar behind to make his own decisions on what he would do next.

[ 07-20-2003 09:28 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

“Frying meat in a helmet may be good for the gander, but the flock sees what it will. I see much in you that you do not, deep is the cut but severed not is the cord. If I were persuaded and hungry, I could help to redo the knot.”

He then sat in the hallway and began humming a strange tune, eyes rolling.

--------------------

She blinked as she regarded him, knowing instantly who he was, and with great effort lowered her hands simultaneously with the fires which raged upon her forehead. After a moment she succeeded in closing her mouth, clenching her jaw so tightly that her teeth ground together.

Save for those small movements she remained motionless, taking in Phalomir's two-meter height in one nearly disbelieving stare. Then her eyes raked up and down his body, noting the broadness of his shoulders, the shadowy black robe opened to reveal the exotic curlicues of his clan tattoos, the rippling muscles of his chest, the graceful curve of his flattened and spiralled horns...

...as well as the utterly surprised look in his brilliant emerald eyes.

She opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

She closed it a moment, clenching her fist now, and took an involuntary step backward. Her parting words to Phalomir neoned into her mind, strobing there with the taunting knowledge that she would never follow through with her earlier threat.

And he more than likely knew it. And how does one destroy a spirit, anyway?

Her mind backed away from that quandary into the relatively saner issue regarding the fact that, spirit or no, he was now standing in her bedchamber. Her mouth worked again, and finally words found release.

"It is not appropriate to enter into a lady's chambers without invitation," she finally managed, drawing herself up coldly and reaching out to regain her earlier haughty demeanor.

--------------------

...but what was this madness he spoke of even still, and why was there something so strangely yet vaguely familiar about him...?

For even as she turned and looked at the humming Thoran she recognized something of his essence, and indeed it was that very thing that she had felt back on Sullust when Panthar first showed up.

But how could she know this one, he had been a spirit for 4,500 years...

With effort, Shayla forced herself back to reality...

...a thing which she had found herself doing all-too-often as of late. " What is this severage you speak of?" she queried softly. And then, even more softly, "And how is it that you know me at all, for there is 4,500 years between us,and even still I have little knowledge of the Sith, let alone knowledge of their peoples..."

She trailed a moment, her greeny-blue eyes growing impossibly more vague. Then she finished with, "...nor do I have good awareness of just what I have been doing and where I have been for over the past year..."

[ 07-21-2003 06:40 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

He turned his gaze back to the Lady.

“Forgive my unexpected entrance, my lady,” he said happily. “I was sent to speak with you.” Quiet whispers filled Phalomir’s mind, and he tilted his head faintly as he listened. He then turned a warm smile to the Dark Lady and bowed his head slightly.

“I trust your travels were safe. Did you find what you were looking for?”

--------------------

“Lady is wondering what slugs cha-cha bear fills, but morning breaks clear in the desert,” he said. “Much cloudy is her window, much wet is Thoran’s towel. It burns so, it wants to clean them. Will she let Thoran? Will she let it clean? It burns.”

--------------------

She tilted her head down a bit, unable to keep her eyes from making a quick connection with her wrists before they lifted to once again stare steadily into his ghostly green ones. A small exhalation released some of her inner tensions.

"I found... what I was meant to discover," she finally managed, watching him carefully, taking in stride the fact that he seemed to be fully aware of her recent expedition. Time ticked between them; then--

"I assume this is not why you are here, Phalomir. That is to say, I trust I am addressing Phalomir and not his squire?"

Her eyes never left his as she lifted one slender finger, raising the shards of glass from where they glittered against the stones, and sending them off into the hearth of her fireplace, where the flames seemed to leap higher as though anxious to devour them.

--------------------